White Horse

By Jolene Loraine

Hers was a life of adventure and perilof facing forest fires and winter storms, predators and wild herds. But for the white horse, her greatest challenge would be in learning to place her trust in the wisdom of her rider, in order to survive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Feb 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781449734251

Jolene Loraine

Born with a passion for storytelling and influenced by film, author Jolene Loraine has begun her publication career with stories of fantasy and adventure, rich with deep character struggles and growth. In February of 2012, her first book, a short story series entitled, White Horse, was published through West Bow Press, chronicling the life of a white horse and the challenges she faces in a mountain realm. In June of 2014, Jolene launched her first full length novel series, Night Hawk, realizing a twenty year dream. Along with writing, Jolene Loraine is active in filmmaking, participating in the independent film community of the Pacific Northwest as everything from a grip to screenplay writer and performer. In October of 2016, she became the owner of White Horse Entertainment, LLC, an independent film company she works diligently at with great hopes for the future. With professional puppeteers for parents, she has developed skills as a puppeteer on the live stage and in film. She has also studied swordplay, performing for five years with the Seattle Knights. She plans to continue her work on the Night Hawk series for both publication and film.

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Contents

Author’s Note

Book One

Book Two

Book Three

Book Four

Book Five

Book Six

Book Seven

Dedicated to the memory of William Butz, my grandfather and best friend. Your life has been a shining example of a noble race run under the guidance of the Rider. May I run with the same faith that was evident in you.

Author’s Note

I have never felt as if my life was particularly noteworthy. Mine was a typical childhood with many of the normal struggles that one faces moving into adulthood. What I have come to find as noteworthy is not myself, but the extraordinary relationship I am still coming to understand in a God of infinite love and wisdom. What I have learned (and am still learning) is the deep power of faith – to trust in someone even when all seems foolish in my eyes. As I have trusted, I have found unfailing devotion on the part of God.

Having grown up with a passion for animals – especially horses – I have found my own life mirrored in the natural world. With this understanding I have written my testimony with all its hardships and frustrations as well as its successes in the form of a horse and her rider. Though the specific events are for the most part fictitious, the struggles and lessons learned are very real. It is my prayer that readers may learn what I have learned from these stories. May their own names be given to the white horse, and may they come to understand the unending love that we are all blessed with through Christ.

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It is time. The wait is over. Make your run.

Book One

TRAIL BLAZING

High within a mountain realm, nestled among untouched forests and raging rivers, lived great herds of horses. They were majestic creatures, powerful and free. Generations of mountain breeding had toned their muscles, strengthened their legs and quickened their step. They were the rulers of their world. The earth shook beneath their hooves. The peaks echoed their piercing cries. Theirs was a proud and noble race.

Among them lived a young, white horse. She was an elegant animal, perfect in form - delicate yet strong as if carved from ivory. Her silken mane fell as a veil across her arched neck. Her steps were as light as a doe’s, and she carried her head and tail with pride. Yet for all her grace, in her dark eyes there shown a wild light that refused to be tamed. In her heart beat the fierce pulse of the mountain woods. As serene as she was in appearance, an untamable fire flowed through her hot blood. She refused to follow. She would not submit. Her life was her own.

Then one spring morning the mountain realm received a new inhabitant in the form of a man. Seating himself on a flowering knoll, he watched the horses in peace and silence. Many within the herd found him a curious addition to their world. With wide eyes and flared nostrils they approach cautiously, stiff and ready to flee. They flicked their tails and pawed the ground, but the man never gave them reason to fear. All that day he sat so quietly he appeared to become part of the knoll itself.

For long hours the white horse watched from a distance, her ears flicking with suspicion. A deep longing to investigate gripped her, but she fought tenaciously against it. Trust was not easily gained. Every wild thought of what could happen swept through her mind, tempting her to retreat and never look upon the stranger again. However, an inexplicable force touched her spirit, compelling her to remain near the knoll. Something more powerful than her wild spirit slowly melted her tension and beckoned her to finally draw step by wary step closer to the man.

His voice remained quiet as he greeted the white horse, but even so, she froze at the sound. She had never heard Human speech before. For some time she held back, contemplating the strange new being seated a short distance from her. A peace surrounded him, a gentleness and compassion she could not understand. As the sun set and the stars grew bright in the clear night sky, the man stood without a word and disappeared among the trees.

At dawn he reappeared, seating himself on the knoll to patiently watch the mingling herd. Once again, the white horse found herself drawn toward the man’s presence. Pretending to ignore him by grazing, she edged ever closer to the knoll. He spoke to her with gentle words and peaceful songs and by nightfall she stood at his side. Then he rose and strode off through the trees bathed in a wash of pale moonlight.

The next day he returned, and the next, and the next. Each day he gained more of the white horse’s trust, and before long she grazed regularly by the man’s side. Her curiosity growing, she would stretch her head as far as she could until her nose almost touched the man’s arm. For a week he let his voice and quiet presence be their only connection, never forcing her to receive more from him than she was willing. As their bond grew, there came a day when he finally reached out his hand to gently stroke the horse’s nose. Instead of recoiling, the white horse found the touch soothing and warm. There was no pain, no fear, no treachery in any of the man’s ways and by the end of a month’s time he had slipped effortlessly onto her back.

The first time the white horse felt the weight of the rider settle upon her, the wild animal instincts assailed her. Squealing with terror, she leaped forward and bolted across the meadow. Large clumps of sod flew from under her churning hooves. Horses balked as she passed, their eyes wide with surprise. Expertly the rider remained fixed to her back. She could feel the same gentle touch, hear the same soothing voice, but the wild nature in her would not let her slow until the limits of her physical strength were spent. As she finally surrendered and came to an exhausted halt, she felt a loving pat on the neck. Her legs shook beneath her. Her sides heaved with each labored breath and foam flecked her body, but there was no more fear in her. As if he had done nothing more than take a pleasant stroll, the rider slipped from her back, gave her one last pat and word of praise, then disappeared among the trees.

In the days that followed, the rider came daily to greet the white horse. She began to anticipate him jumping onto her back, but instead of distancing herself from him, she found herself inexplicably drawn each morning to his side. In time she learned to listen his voice and understand his intentions. They moved as one. As she grew in her understanding of the rider’s ways, she found the experience of working with such a wise mind thrilling. He guided her first around the meadow and then on trips into the woods where her strength and courage grew with each small adventure. The rider always sensed her needs and with