Wind Dancer

By Karen C. Webb

Finally, Hallie Grant was getting a horse of her own.
With money her uncle gave her as a fifteenth birthday gift, Hallie Grant was finally able to get a horse of her very own. Dancer was a scruffy white mare with a bad attitude, but she was fast, really fast.
Unable to control the half Arabian mare on the trail, Hallie takes her to her uncle’s horse racing farm, where she can ride her on his track.
But Dancer outruns all of Uncle Mike’s racehorses, and is soon challenged to match races against other racehorses. Professional racehorses.
As Hallie and her snow-white wonder horse are becoming more and more famous across the country, she finds herself caught up in an unexpected romance with Miguel, who works for her uncle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karen C. Webb
• Release date: Aug 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310792762

Karen C. Webb

Karen Webb lives in New Mexico and has traveled all over the country. She is an avid reader of fiction and enjoys writing it as well, setting her stories in locations she has visited. She writes as time allows, carrying a laptop with her and writing when she can. "I have more ideas for novels than I have time to write," says Karen. She also enjoys gardening, horseback riding and hiking through the mountains, searching for buried treasure with a metal detector.

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Karen C Webb

WIND DANCER

Copyright © 2016 Karen C Webb

All rights reserved.

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All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, in full or in part,

without written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, places or events is coincidental.

The author used the relationship between the young girl and the horse to paint a beautiful picture of emotions, in which Hallie internally wrestles with her feelings about Dancer. I recommend this book for anyone.

Reader’s Favorite

CHAPTER 1

DANCER didn’t know why this strange girl had been tossed up onto her back. But she knew she didn’t like it. And the small crowd that had gathered over by the red gate made her feel more anxious and excited. She pranced on her toes as the young girl lifted the reins. When she felt the rein against her neck, she turned obediently, facing out across the field. She was surprised when she felt the bit loosen in her mouth and the legs pressing against her sides, urging her forward. For many years, all she could remember was the tight hold on her head, the bit biting against her tender mouth, until she'd come to hate anyone who dared climb onto her back.

She hesitated only a second. She pushed the loose bit around with her tongue. Her large hindquarters bunched beneath her, and with a powerful lunge, she was off at a gallop. She ran parallel to the barbed-wire fence, amused at the feel of the girl becoming almost unseated with that first powerful lunge. But now, she could feel the girl righting herself and taking up the rein. Dancer lifted her head high in the air as she ran, expecting at any moment to feel the sharp bit pulling against her mouth as it always had. This had become her habit, over the years, to hold her head really high, to avoid the pain of the sharp bit. But surprisingly, this time it remained loose. The girl bent low over her neck, their two body’s almost becoming one, soaring on as she galloped faster and faster. She couldn’t remember when she’d last enjoyed this kind of freedom with a rider on her back. She knew they were afraid of her, men, women and children who’d dared to ride her. But she didn’t sense any fear from this slip of a girl. She sensed...pleasure, maybe. This girl seemed to be enjoying this breakneck speed across the field.

She was approaching the back corner of the fence, still at a dead run, the wind whipping her white mane back into the girl’s face. But she didn’t slow her speed. She increased it, taking the turn along the fence in back at a daredevil pace. She felt sure of her footing, but she knew the girl on her back would feel unsafe. They always did.

She was surprised when the girl clung to her back and neck, neither sawing at the reins, nor crying out whoa as most everyone did.

She was approaching the next turn, her speed still increasing. She felt the girl lean with her through the turn. Dancer slipped a little, but regained her balance as she came out of the turn. There, that ought to scare her off. She felt the rein tighten more on her mouth and she prepared herself for a fight.

Take it easy, girl, her rider said, reaching down and rubbing her hand along the white neck.

It was unexpected, but she didn’t let it slow her down. They were racing back toward the crowd now and she increased her speed even more. She loved the feel of flying along, barely touching the earth, the wind in her face. And the fear she could see in the faces of the group at the gate as she raced toward them. She reveled in that fear.

She saw them moving back, further away from her mad dash. They crowded in the corner, their backs to the gate as she rushed at them. She waited until the last second, then turned sharply left, away from them. She’d thought the sharp turn would surely unseat her rider this time, but the girl clung to her back as if she belonged there.

Dancer made another lap around the field, her speed increasing until she could barely keep herself from falling on the turns. And still, this strange girl let her go. Her hands had neither tightened on the reins, nor pulled at her mouth as so many hands had done before.

But she didn’t care. She had no love for humans. She tolerated them as long as her needs were met. Food, water, even the occasional currying she didn’t mind. But they would never break her spirit! She would never become the quiet, docile mount these humans demanded. She would fight them to the death. To be allowed to run, full speed as her ancestors had done, flying free across the deserts and prairies. That’s all she wanted now. To be given the chance to run at full gallop, to work off some of her excess energy. To fly free, free like the wind.

As she raced toward the group at the gate, she increased her speed even more, her white legs a blur of motion, her small black hooves barely touching the ground. Her step faltered slightly and her pace slowed a little when she realized they were onto her plan. The group of people were now standing outside the gate. She gathered herself for the sharp left turn.

But now, she felt the reins tighten.

Whoa, the girl on her back called out softly. She felt the right rein tighten and her small ears pricked back, listening to the girl’s voice. But she wasn’t ready to stop her headlong gallop yet. She was having entirely too much fun to stop now. As she went to drop into her turn at a death-defying speed, her head was suddenly yanked around by the right rein. Dancer’s body followed where her head was turned. The girl had kept her course directed straight for the red gate! Now, it was either stop or smash headlong into an unyielding steel gate. She planted her forelegs and almost sat down on her haunches as she slid to a stop. The young girl hopped off her back and was instantly at her head. She patted up and down the sweat-soaked neck. Good girl, she said repeatedly as she stroked. She felt the small hands tremble slightly as they rubbed against her neck.

So...what do you think? Pat asked when Hallie led the mare back through the gate. She’s had some rough handling and it’s made her a little wild, but if you’re not afraid of her, I’m sure you can work it out of her.

Hallie was silent as she considered it. She ran her hands across the thin white coat, noting the black skin underneath. She touched the charcoal nose, watching the mare looking at her suspiciously. She ran her hand along the soft mouth, feeling the hardness at the corners, where harsh bits had pulled and yanked. If this mare was a chronic runaway, she could be dangerous. She had ran away today, and inside a pasture, no less. Who knows what she’d do out there. She looked across the open landscape, all the way to the mountains in the distance, some forty miles away. She stepped back, taking in the huge round hindquarters. There was power there. Takeoff power. She’d already experienced that power when the mare had almost unseated her from that first massive lunge. That kind of power, Hallie knew, came from her Quarter horse breeding. Large, round, powerful hindquarters, built for that instant lunge, for chasing cattle, for quick bursts of speed. She noted the short round barrel, the sturdy legs, the small black hooves. There was a lift to the mare’s long white tail, denoting the Arabian side of her breeding. She wondered if the long white tail had been in the air when they ran, waving like a banner. She looked at the white head and face. A little large and heavy by Arabian standards, but with small, perky ears and the rounded cheek of a well-bred Quarter horse. She also had the long, slim neck of an Arabian and a way of carrying her head high and proud. Her neck arched beautifully, just like a wild, desert Arabian. She could see more of a Quarter horse conformation and lightning bursts of speed; but would there also be the endurance and stamina of an Arabian?

Her last owner called her Dancer, Pat said. Not sure why. Other than the fact that she never stays still under saddle.

Hallie nodded. Even now, the mare’s feet were constantly moving. Hallie had to keep a sharp eye out, so that Dancer didn’t dance across her own small feet.

I’ll let you have her for five hundred, Pat continued. It was originally a thousand, but if you want her, she's yours for five hundred. She was afraid this girl was going to leave without buying this horse. She hadn’t had any takers and feed cost money. And of course, this mare had scared most people who’d tried her out. But this girl, she seemed like she could handle her.

Hallie studied the mare again. She wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at. Maybe if her head had been a little smaller and daintier. But her white mane was so long, it hung off her neck and shoulder. It was coated with mud and matted into knots. It could be pretty though, if she were cleaned up. There was dried mud down her legs from the rains last week, and her white coat hadn’t seen a currycomb for quite some time.

Her conformation was beautiful. Muscles rippled under the scruffy white coat. And the extraordinarily long tail was pretty too, or at least, it would be, once she cleaned her up. The price was certainly right, too. She wasn’t looking for a show horse, after all. Just a nice trail horse, instead of always being forced to borrow her friends’ horses. She stared at the white mare for another full minute, undecided. She’d waited so long for this moment. Years of waiting, of begging her mother for a horse. Years of blowing out candles on birthday cakes, closing her eyes and making a wish each time for a horse of her own. Now that the moment was finally here, did she want to take the first horse she’d seen? The only one she’d even tried out? She stared at the scruffy white mare, watching her toss her head and dance in place. She was filthy and scruffy, but full of fire and ice, with a speed and a spirit likened to a wild stallion, running wild and free across the plains.

I’ll take her, she said finally.

Pat smiled, a knowing smile that made Hallie wonder if she hadn’t made a mistake. Oh well, she thought as she gave the mare one last pat on the neck. If it is a mistake, I’ll just run her through the next horse auction.

Pam, her best friend since, forever, stepped forward and whispered in her ear. She’d stayed out of it until now, providing only the truck and horse trailer to help her friend. But Hallie, she whispered, don’t you at least want to try out other horses first?

No. Hallie smiled down at her shorter friend. I want her. She pulled a white envelope out of her coat pocket, counting out bills for Pat.

Well, let’s get her loaded up then. Pam shook her head. Hallie’s stubbornness never ceased to amaze her. Once her mind was made up to something, nothing could change it. She helped Hallie load the scruffy mare into the horse trailer, expecting the worst. But Dancer went in surprisingly easily. Maybe that was a good sign, she thought. She jumped behind the wheel of her dad’s pickup, and Hallie jumped in the passenger side, still flushed with excitement. Pam didn’t have a driver’s license yet, but she’d been driving her dad’s truck down these country roads since she was thirteen. She did okay pulling the horse trailer, as long as she didn’t have to back up. She glanced over at her friend as she put the truck in gear and eased it out of the lot. Hallie looked like she was going to bubble over with excitement. She didn’t even sit still on the seat, she wriggled and turned, looking back repeatedly, as if to reassure herself the mare was still behind her.

Sunday had been Hallie’s fifteenth birthday. Her special day. It should have been filled with parties and gifts and blowing out candles. Maybe even a special kiss from the best looking guy in school.

Instead, her mom had pulled an evening shift at the A & P, and Hallie had been planning to sit at home alone and watch a movie. Until Uncle Mike showed up at her door. He’d come by in the afternoon, just before Hallie’s mom left for work. Thank God for Uncle Mike. Hallie didn’t see much of him since he and her mother had got into a huge fight and he’d stopped coming around. But he’d never forgot even one of her birthdays, and he didn’t let her down this year either. He’d shown up on Sunday with her gift in a fat envelope. One thousand dollars in cash. The most money she’d ever seen at one time. Even better than that, he’d told her it was for a horse. Her very own horse. No more borrowing her friends’ horses to go for a trail ride or barrel racing with Pam. A horse of her own, that Uncle Mike said she could keep at his horse farm, Sundown Farm. Mike raised and trained racehorses. Quarter horse racehorses. The fastest horses in the world, for a quarter of a mile. Hallie hadn’t spent much time at the farm the last several years, ever since Uncle Mike and her mother had the falling out. It was only about a mile away, but Hallie’s mother had forbidden her going there.

Of course, her mother had gone ballistic when Uncle Mike showed up on Sunday.

She doesn’t need a horse, Marie had screeched at Uncle Mike. She's been riding her friends’ horses for years. She’s even won trophies and ribbons barrel racing with them.

Not the same as having a horse of your own, Mike had told her in his gruff, unsmiling way. He leaned on a cane as he faced down Hallie’s mom. Several years ago a colt had panicked in the starting gate with him on its back. The colt had reared up, falling into the side of the tiny stall. His right leg had been smashed against the metal bars by the weight of the horse, wrenching his knee and tearing the ligaments. Uncle Mike had never ridden again after that fall. He trained from the ground instead, instructing his jockeys in how best to handle each new colt or racehorse.

Hallie had stood silently by while the two of them argued, her body tense and her fists clenched at her sides. She wanted a horse of her own so bad; it had been her dream for years. Yet, nothing was worth this bickering between the only family she had. She felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks as her mother yelled at Uncle Mike.

Seeing the tears on Hallie’s face, Uncle Mike had finally convinced her mom to do the right thing.

Fine, Marie had said, but she can keep it at her friend Pam’s house. She doesn’t need to stable it with you.

Fair enough, Mike had said, happy with the compromise.

So much for a Happy Birthday. But at least, she was finally getting a horse of her own.

It wasn’t that Hallie’s mom hated her or didn’t want her to be happy. She just didn’t seem to understand Hallie, or want to spend enough time with her to get to know her better. Hallie had stomped off to her bedroom, hiding herself away until her mother left for work. She had cranked up her stereo, drowning out the heated conversation from the living room.

I’m really sorry, Hallie, Uncle Mike had told her Sunday afternoon. He’d taken her out for ice cream, though she knew he really just