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More Than She Bargained For
More Than She Bargained For
More Than She Bargained For
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More Than She Bargained For

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Kate, a young woman full of fun and adventure with dreams of becoming a great horse rider convinces her cousin to join her on a midnight adventure. The two young women decide to sneak down to a neighboring farm where an international rider had lived. The young rider had passed in a fatal accident but several of his horses are still there in his fathers care. After some comical moments the two reach the stable and actually manage to ride two of the horses. As they are leaving, Kate stumbles upon a dead body. Its the owner and hes obviously been murdered.
The police investigation turns up several surprises, including an affair years before between her mother and the murdered victim. Once the young ladies and Kates mother are cleared life seems to go back to normal as the police continue on the case. The lead detective, Michael Barrington, falls in love with Kate as the investigation continues. Although shes often flirtatious, Kate is slow to accept his love but as she finally acknowledges her own true feelings she accepts Michaels marriage proposal. They are seen as the perfect couple and returning from their honeymoon a twist of fate surprises them with a great fortune they could have never expected.
After their first five years of marriage everything the couple had ever dreamed of seemed to be coming true. They had developed an impressive equestrian estate and Kate had gained a reputation as a good rider and trainer. One day without any warning Kates mother dies which rocks Kates world.
Kate becomes obsessed with the secrets and questions her mother had never shared or answered while she was alive. She is relentless and even a bit deceitful in her quest to obtain the answers about her mothers earlier life. Her obsession gains her the answers but almost ruins her marriage. After resolving things with her husband life returns to a harmonious state until fate delivers still another blow.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 20, 2012
ISBN9781466914513
More Than She Bargained For
Author

Steve Farkos

Steve grew up in the typical family that allowed for a dog or two and even a cat, but a horse was something you only dreamed of. Through his life, his artwork and animal fascination always focused on horses. When he met his wife-to-be, Kathryn, in college, he realized others also had this passion for horses even though horses had never yet been a part of their lives. After Steve and Kathryn married and started a family, it would become apparent that their love of horses was still an unanswered call. Horses became a part of all their lives as Steve, together with his wife and their three daughters, took lessons and began to fulfill that dream they all shared. Soon after the family’s involvement with horses grew. The family left suburbia, and Steve started his beloved Winsom Farm, which remains a huge factor in his life. The entire family became successful in their horse endeavors, and Steve’s reputation as an instructor further fueled his passion for both horses and people. His experiences, imagination, horse knowledge, and an everlasting belief in true romance drove him to start writing the stories he gives us now. Steve currently lives in rural Illinois just outside of Chicago, with his wife of forty years, four horses of his own, fourteen boarding horses, five herding dogs, and many sheep as his wife trials her dogs. He teaches riding to students and their horses every day.

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    More Than She Bargained For - Steve Farkos

    © Copyright 2012 Steve Farkos.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

    Printed in the United States of America.

    ISBN: 978-1-4669-1450-6 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4669-1452-0 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4669-1451-3 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2012902308

    Trafford rev. 02/02/2012

    7-Copyright-Trafford_Logo.ai

    www.trafford.com

    North America & international

    toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

    phone: 250 383 6864 21095.png fax: 812 355 4082

    Contents

    Acknowledgements

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    About the Author

    Acknowledgements

    A thank you to my friends, whose encouragement and enthusiastic push got me to start writing again. Special thanks to Alice Bennet who gave so much time to edit the manuscript and also managed to keep me in check. Her professionalism and sense of humor made the process doable and encouraging. She was such a great person to work with and an understanding friend when I doubted myself. I thank Kathryn Eaton for her photographic help in designing the book’s cover and Molly Siebert for her help in completing the publishing journey. Their tenacious efforts made the dream of a book come true. Thanks to all who believed in me and helped see the completion of this dream.

    Whether or not you’re looking for it, love can find you and it will withstand troubles and turmoil as long as a foundation of honesty, respect and intimacy exists . . .

    Chapter 1

    It had been a rough summer in Beaver Falls, Texas. Although the town was small, it seemed to be on the way to many other destinations. The parade of tourists passing through had always made it an interesting place to observe humanity’s glory and strangeness. This year, between the economy and the cost of fuel, fewer than half the normal travelers had come through. With good summer jobs as waitresses, Kate and Vicki had always earned above-average wages, since they were outgoing and nice-looking. Vicki had dark hair and eyes and an athletic build, while Kate looked less athletic and more like a tall, slender model, with her light brown hair and large blue eyes. But this summer was different. They’d worked only part time, and rarely on the same shift. The dearth of travelers had hurt the whole town, but the girls were mainly worried about themselves.

    The two girls were cousins, but they thought of themselves as sisters, for Vicki had lived with Kate’s family since she was eleven, when her parents divorced and her mother died. She now thought of Kate’s mother and father as her own. At twenty, they’d just finished their third year at the local college but were in no hurry to move on, since money was tight and they had no idea where they would go with their lives. Both were tomboys who cared mostly about horses, though Kate had a flirtatious streak. But they had great dreams. Vicki wanted to breed Olympic-quality horses. Kate wanted to ride them. But the girls and their family didn’t have the money to set them up in situations that could lead in the direction they hoped for. Father didn’t think much of their proposed careers and always let them know how he felt. Mother was quietly supportive, but she kept her thoughts to herself around Father in the interest of peace.

    Vicki and Kate had been paying most of their college expenses, but to go on would take more money than they could afford. Without help from their parents, there was no way they could finish school right now, and that wasn’t going to happen based on the economic conditions plaguing the entire country and undermining Father’s work in sales. Their deep love of horses had a connection with a farm down the road from their home, where a famous grand prix jump rider had once lived. The whole town knew about him and loved the recognition his international riding had brought.

    Summer’s over. We’ve got part-time jobs that will be even more part time in the fall. I’m bored, and we need some fun and adventure, Kate said. Let’s make that trip we’ve talked about over to the old Bastian farm and see what we find. The only one who’s ever there at night is old man Bastian. I don’t know, Vicki said quietly. What if we get caught? Mother and Father would really be upset. But Kate wasn’t backing down easily; once she made up her mind, few people could ever change it. Oh, come on Vicki, Kate insisted. There are still horses there, and we can have fun just looking around. We’ll sneak into the barn, and no one will ever know we were there. Vicki finally agreed. Let’s wait till it’s dark and Mother and Father are down for the night. After supper, the girls both went up to Kate’s room. Vicki dozed off, but Kate was so anxious that she just peered out the window watching night darken.

    There were heavy clouds when Kate shook Vicki awake. Get your shoes on and let’s get going. It’s really dark, and we’ll have perfect cover crossing the fields. The girls crawled out the bedroom window onto the narrow porch roof, then picked their way down the trellis with its dying plants. Vicki made it most of the way, then jumped. As Kate began to inch downward, she leaned back and the trellis started to pull away from the house, causing her to slip and fall. Hand over her mouth, Vicki giggled uncontrollably while Kate sat on the ground swearing under her breath. Vicki pulled her up, then brushed some dirt off her backside. Everything seemed perfect for their adventure until the cloud cover began to pass, revealing the full moon as if someone had turned on the lights. Kate saw Vicki was alarmed as it grew brighter. Vicki, look at it this way—now we’ll be able to see better and enjoy our adventure even more. Everything will still be OK.

    Now the moon lit the entire countryside so that shadows of plants danced in the breeze. The grasses, damp from the evening dew, smelled intoxicating. The dried cornstalks rustled like rows of soldiers marching in parade formation. Most of the crops were still standing in the fields, since the past few weeks had brought some record-breaking rains, and the ground held many pools of muddy water. The conditions weren’t conducive to a daytime stroll, let alone a nighttime excursion. But that wouldn’t stop Kate and Vicki.

    I can’t believe we’re actually doing this! said Vicki. It’s time we turned our dream into reality, don’t you think? Kate replied. Now be quiet; our voices might carry. Pretty soon we’ll be far enough out in the field to talk.

    Now the girls were crossing the neighbor’s soybean field next to their home. The leaves rustled as their pants brushed them, because the crop was dry and ready for harvest. The ground was saturated from the weeks of rain, and the girls’ shoes quickly took on extra weight. My shoes will never look the same, said Kate in her princess manner. I think I said you might want to wear those old paddock boots, Vicki answered in her I told you so tone.

    Now came their first obstacle. Mr. Randall’s old barbed-wired fence stood as tall and tight as new, though there hadn’t been any cows inside it for a least a decade, since the old man’s death. Everyone thought the fence should be taken down, but no one ever did it. The son still lived there and really didn’t care, since the fence kept people out. Vicki was first to take on the crossing. How did you do that so fast? Kate asked. It was easy. Put your left hand on the fence post to balance yourself and to push off from. Put your other hand between two of the barbs on the top wire. Then put your left foot up on the second strand of wire as if you’re going to mount a horse. Use a bounce and a swing to jump over the top wire, and you’ll be standing next to me. Kate followed the directions to a tee, but they didn’t work quite as planned. Her shoestring caught on a barb, and the wire twanged like a guitar string, ripping her jeans. Instead of landing on her feet, she bounced and rolled like a badly thrown bowling ball, knocking Vicki flat. As the girls lay in a heap on the wet pasture grass, Vicki yelled, "You klutz! Are you all right? They both stood up, nicely dampened by the wet grass, and took a fast check of each other’s clothing as they laughed at their predicament. Kate felt something warm on her leg, and Vicki spotted blood around the rip in her jeans.

    You’re bleeding where the wire ripped your jeans. You’d better roll up your pants leg so we can see how bad it is—or hopefully isn’t. Kate slowly rolled up her tight and very wet pants leg to expose a three-inch scratch, just deep enough to produce a little blood that the water had made look worse. You’ll live, Vicki announced. Now let’s keep moving or go back, whichever you feel up to right now. There’s no turning back unless one of us is dying, Kate said. Now let’s go do what we planned on.

    The grasses in the old pasture were knee high, and even taller in spots. No livestock had grazed there this year, and no one had mowed the hay either. It was just a large sea of waving grass, soaking the girls’ pants and shoes. They walked on while the light began to dim as clouds started to hide the moon again. The girls were charged with excitement; they’d planned so long for this night. Do you realize that in minutes we’ll be at the Bastian farm? Kate said. We’ll have to be quieter than this, Vicki retorted. And absolutely none of your famous silly-girl laughing. That would wake anyone.

    Mr. Bastian was an elderly man who had always been a great presence around town. He thought of himself as a bit of a celebrity, but it was his son who had put the Bastian name, and their small town, in the spotlight. Hunter Bastian had been a great horseman even as a youngster. The Bastians had moved to Texas from the East Coast, where Hunter had worked with some of the best trainers. They left there after Mrs. Bastian died, and then Hunter trained in clinics throughout the West. But it was as a young man that everyone became aware of his skill on the backs of those big horses. During his teenage years Hunter had earned a name as a grand prix jump rider. After doing well on the local level and in regionals, he went professional on the grand prix circuit, showing a couple of talented horses, one that his father had bought and another that a one of Hunter’s clients asked him to show. He did extremely well, and the money flowed in. Mr. Bastian had the barn and the house renovated as a showplace for Hunter’s success. He became known as the very proud father.

    Then when Hunter was returning from a grand prix competition, he lost both his mounts in a tragic trailering accident. Devastated, he felt he had to quit the show circuit. With no mounts and no desire to be part of the horse world again, Hunter withdrew from the life.

    Then one day opportunity knocked loudly. A beautiful woman came to see Hunter. She’d been a successful rider and well-known breeder in the dressage world. Diagnosed with cancer, she was given only a short time to live. But she had two youngsters she had bred and trained, and on a bet and with a strong belief in herself, she came to see Hunter. She challenged him to learn dressage and show the horses that she could never show herself. Hunter was either touched by her story or overwhelmed by her beauty and charisma (maybe both). He yielded to her proposal like a palm tree in a hurricane. Mr. Bastian was elated as his son once again embraced his passion.

    Hunter trained hard. His riding ability and his incredible balance helped him make the transition from grand prix jumping to upper-level dressage. However, Hunter thought one of the horses she brought showed more desire to jump, so he had started jumping again as well.

    This had angel brought Hunter back to life, and their efforts together spelled success. Only two years later Hunter would ride one of the horses in the World Cup Dressage Finals in Lexington, Kentucky. Then his beautiful angel died, but she had lovingly willed the horses to him.

    Hunter withdrew again and started drinking and taking drugs occasionally, because he felt his world was collapsing again. Mr. Bastian tried everything to turn his son around, but soon afterward he lost him in a terrible car crash. Mr. Bastian then also withdrew and was rarely seen in town. Even his groceries were delivered. He sat in his house and came out only to feed the three horses that were still there. Two were the ones Hunter had competed, and the other was a young stud colt he had recently bought.

    Adrenaline made the girls’ hearts race as they neared the beautiful old barn where the three horses were kept. Do you think the horses will be inside or out in the paddock? Vicki asked. I can’t imagine that even Mr. Bastian would be careless enough to leave those prize horses out all night, said Kate. But we don’t really know him, do we?

    The clouds had darkened the skies more that the two girls cared for; the property now seemed unusually dark, like everything else around. Doesn’t look like any lights are on in the house, noted Kate. The barn looks pretty dark too, except for the sodium yard light on the post out front, said Vicki. Don’t you think that that’s normal for most barns? You’re the only one I know who keeps a night light and music on for a couple of ponies, joked Kate. Well, I think it helps keep them happy," Vicki answered sheepishly.

    The girls were just a few feet from the paddock when a horse charged the fence, snorted, and reared. As they jumped back, Kate exclaimed, Oh, shit! I think it’s the stallion. Really, said Vicki in her most sarcastic tone. So I suppose you think that was his way of saying ‘good evening, ladies.’ He’s a little pissed, if you ask me, insisted Kate. I think we startled him, and we might still be able to make friends with him, Vicki assured her.

    The girls approached the all-weather, vegetation-free paddock armed with long grass pulled from the pasture they had just crossed. The big bay stallion eagerly chewed the grass, keeping a sharp eye on the girls’ every move. Kate doled out the grass as Vicki ran back and forth collecting more.

    He acts like he hasn’t eaten in days, said Kate. He looks fine, but the way he’s going after the grass does seem strange. He didn’t seem aggressive to me, maybe more startled. Aggressive or startled, he scared the pants off me, chuckled Vicki. The night’s not getting any younger. We need to find the other two now, said Kate. You’re right, said Vicki. So the girls left the stallion and moved toward the main door of the barn.

    They found the barn door ajar; they didn’t have to open it much to squeeze in. Vicki turned Kate around. See, I’m not the only one, she declared as she pointed to a night light that was letting them move about the main aisle in the barn without falling over things. As they approached the stalls, they heard the horses whinny. Shhhhh! the girls whispered in unison. Grab some hay, Kate said. We need to keep noise down as much as we can. I wonder why he would have left these geldings in and put the stallion out? wondered Kate. Seems a bit backward to me. Hey, look here. This may be the answer. Vicki pointed to where the stallion now stood. The dutch door was knocked partway out and hung by a few screws on the top hinge. He must have busted the door trying to go back outside, Kate surmised. Do you think we should try to fix it? Kate asked. No! Are you crazy? Vicki snapped. That stallion could eat us for breakfast. And do you think we’re working for Habitat for Horses? OK, OK! Kate replied, But I feel like we should do something. He shouldn’t be out all night. What if he breaks through the outer fence too? If that’s what’s meant to be, it’ll happen without our help, snarled Vicki. Now let’s check on those geldings and decide if we want to do more with them or just get out of here.

    The girls had planned for months how they would sneak over on a moonlit night to ride the two geldings Hunter had taken to the World Cup just a few years ago. Both were decent horsewomen, since they’d ridden together for years on their ponies, Nip and Tucker. The ponies had served them well. They’d done just about everything girls and ponies could do, from campouts, picnics, and day trips to both English and Western shows. Sadly, they’d outgrown the ponies several years ago and had no money to replace them. Vicki had found she loved jumping and had done well at the local shows. Kate had become fascinated with dressage and now had enough understanding of the principles and techniques to put a horse in a good working frame. The plan was simple. Be quiet. Sneak the horses out to the outdoor arena and give them a test ride. They hadn’t planned on using saddles, since they couldn’t be sure of finding any there, and it would have been too hard to carry their own across the fields. But they did hope to find the horses’ bridles in the barn. They definitely hoped for that.

    Let’s see if we can find some bridles first, suggested Vicki. Good idea, replied Kate as they felt their way down the dimly lit aisle, paved in brick. Damn it, Kate blurted out as she tripped on something lying in the aisle and not so gracefully caught herself on a stall grate. Shhhhh! Vicki covered Kate’s mouth and held her finger across her own lips. You’ve got to be quieter or we’ll get caught for sure. They reached what they assumed was the tack room. Much to their surprise, the door was unlocked. The room was dimly lit by the moon, which was shining once more through the cracked window.

    The room was empty except for some old ribbons hanging on the wall alongside some photos of Hunter showing various horses. The saddle racks were all empty; the saddles had either been sold or been taken into the house. There were several older bridles; a few looked as though they would fit their ponies, not the show horses they wanted to test drive. Grab two of the biggest ones, Kate instructed. And bring that halter on the floor too. It may come in handy. Vicki quickly picked what she thought could be made to fit and came back to the doorway where Kate had stationed herself.

    Down the aisle they went, until they were in front of the two horses’ stalls. The geldings whinnied and pawed as the girls approached. All the horses seem well fed, but they sure act as if they haven’t eaten for a while, remarked Kate. Check their water to see if they have any. Vicki peered through the stall bars. They have automatic watering bowls. She spotted a bale of hay and grabbed a few flakes to help them make friends faster. As soon as the horses heard the hay rustling they pawed and whinnied even more. They sure seemed more than a little hungry, unless they were just that pampered.

    Vicki insisted they get to the business they’d planned. I’ll take Ireland, the gray Irish thoroughbred, like we decided. He always seems wilder when they’re turned out. You can have Merlin, the big bay warmblood; he moves bigger and seems pretty level-headed from a distance. Merlin’s the horse Hunter did so well on at the World Cup. A dressage dream horse just for you. Wow, he’s big, Kate said. I bet he’s at least seventeen hands. I just hope I can get on. If I can, trust me, I’ll stay on, she boasted. So the girls slowly entered the stalls, calming the horses and reassuring them they wouldn’t be mistreated. They’d each taken a bridle in and began to fit them. Only a few minor adjustments and they were bridling, or at least trying to. Ireland was easy; he dropped his head and took the bit as Vicki slipped the headstall over his ears. For Kate things weren’t going as well. Merlin would put his head up in the air so it felt like trying to bridle a giraffe. She finally whispered, I could use a little help over here, as she and Merlin danced a polka around the stall. Vicki slipped her hand in her pocket and found a few mints. Here, give him one of these. If he likes it, then follow the next one into his mouth with the bit. In a moment Merlin was bridled and smiling. The girls walked the horses out of their stalls and down to the far end of the barn, where a door led to the outdoor arena.

    As they reached the doorway the horses whinnied again and seemed to balk at going out at night. At first it seemed as if the moon dancing in and out of the quick-moving cloud cover was the reason, but soon it was clear they were listening to the snorts of the stallion who was still caught outside, just around the corner. In spite of the nervous stallion, the two seasoned geldings now walked through the doorway into the small yard area. The horses sniffed the cool night air and began to prance a bit. Easy now, Merlin, everything will be OK. You’re going to have some fun tonight, said Kate. I can’t wait till we reach the arena; the night’s perfect, and I think we’ll have plenty of light with the moon. Vicki, on the other hand, felt as if she was in the center of a merry-go-round as Ireland spun around her in a frenzied half-canter, not wanting to travel in a straight line. All right, big boy. You need to settle down and relax. Life will be good. Now chill, damn it, before I have to get ugly with you, she scolded.

    The girls had planned well in advance who would try which horse. Ireland, being the jumper, showed a bit more spark and an attitude of Go! all the time. Merlin was the bigger mover but always seemed saner and more laid back. So they’d decided on Vicki for Ireland because she was generally athletic and could stay in the saddle with Nip even in his most cantankerous moods. Kate had the better seat and greater knowledge of dressage and had shown Tucker well at her last dressage show, so she’d try to ride Merlin. Vicki also knew the odds weren’t in their favor when it came to Kate’s getting hurt. She’d broken numerous fingers, an arm, and even a leg, not only from riding but from hiking and from trying to ride a mechanical bull, where she didn’t make the eight-second bell.

    Vicki managed to settle Ireland as they came to the outdoor arena, Merlin looked as if he’d just come out of the gym after a hour’s workout. He’d puffed up his chest, flexed his muscles, raised his tail, and pranced at the end of the reins like a gymnast about to perform a difficult floor exercise. He sure feels full of himself, Vicki said. If he keeps this up you may end up with him, Kate joked. You got first pick, and you chose Merlin. He’s all yours now. Anyway, I know you’ll do fine, Vicki added confidently. Now it’s time to put our dreams into action. Who’s first up? Before Vicki could reply, Kate answered, I am. At least if something happens you’ll have to carry me back. Then let’s do it, Vicki declared.

    The outdoor arena, which had once been manicured, seemed a bit overgrown and even rutted from the past weeks’ heavy rains. There were no standing puddles, though, since the arena had been professionally installed with proper drainage. The outdoor arena had been like a show ground, since so many people used to come watch Hunter exercise the horses. He could make even a scruffy horse look like a ballerina, light, supple, rhythmical, and full of confidence. Hunter had truly been a gifted rider and was a pleasure to watch. Vicki and Kate had watched on many occasions and always hoped for a chance to ride some of the great horses that had been here. Tonight would be that time.

    So Kate was to be first up. Without stirrups, Merlin wasn’t going to be easy to mount. Vicki could see she wasn’t sure how she’d get up on the big horse. There’s a huge stump over there off the back of the arena. Great idea, Kate said thankfully. She walked back, using the time to calculate her every move. Vicki followed, assuming her help might still be needed. Merlin settled wonderfully as they crossed the arena on the way to the stump. He eyed the arena as if he knew his job was to work and perform and also to obey. The stump looked the perfect height. Kate put the reins over Merlin’s head and patted him on the neck. Then she jumped up on the stump and prepared to mount, leaning against him first to let him know her intentions. Merlin seemed comfortable with it all until Kate began to swing her long leg over his unsaddled back. Then he squirted forward like toothpaste from a tube. Just a foot or two from the stump where Kate now was on the ground, Merlin turned and peered back as if to ask what her problem was. Asshole, Kate said, pissed and embarrassed. At least he’s waiting for you to get up and not running off, Vicki pointed out. Now get up and get on. We’ve already been here quite a while. So Kate tried again. This time she shortened the reins, checked him back, and swung up. Merlin never moved, as if he knew now what she wanted. Wow! He’s big, and he sure is wide. I feel spread-eagled. I can’t even feel his spine. It’s like sitting on a couch." They started off in a slow walk, clearing the way for Vicki and Ireland to use the makeshift mounting block.

    Come on Vicki, I can tell we’re going to have even more fun than we thought. I feel like I’m on a mountain looking down on the world. Wow, this is so cool! Vicki was walking Ireland around the stump. The seventeen-hand gray seemed nervous again and didn’t want to stand still, especially when Vicki stepped up onto the stump. Kate, walk Merlin over here. Maybe that will make this guy relax. After all, they’re used to being together twenty-four/seven.

    Ireland finally stood near enough to the stump for Vicki to make an athletic jump onto his back. The landing was as perfect as anyone could have planned, considering the distance she had to cover. Perfect in any rider’s mind, but not in the gray’s mind. Ireland lurched forward. Vicki grabbed a handful of mane and sat deep into the horse’s back as he gave a powerful buck. As he bucked again, Vicki’s head looked like it was on a spring. Merlin began to get excited while Ireland continued to let his displeasure be known. Merlin started dancing and giving a few twists, first left, then right, then a simple buck and another buck. Suddenly Kate was airborne and slammed to the ground with a thump and a blast of unladylike words. Ireland turned and headed toward the barn, and Merlin chose the same escape route. Vicki pulled back on the reins and put Ireland on a tight circle. He resisted, tossing his head from side to side, but Vicki stayed fixed in position and softened her aids as he slowly came to his senses and realized he wasn’t going to be hurt. Then she dismounted, took the reins over Ireland’s head, and led him another twenty feet to where Merlin had stopped to eat.

    Vicki could hear Kate coming up from behind. That son of a bitch. I can’t believe he did that. Look at me! I’m absolutely covered in dirt and mud, she bitched. Come here, Vicki said. He broke the reins. He must have stepped on them as he ran off. So you decide. Do you want to try again or just go home? Kate looked at Merlin and made sure there was no apparent damage. Then she brushed some of the dirt off herself and noticed her hands were dark with mud. Vicki started to laugh. If you had a mirror right now, I could almost guarantee we’d be headed home, maybe without even taking the horses back. Kate was not happy at being made out to be that vain, and she quickly answered, Of course we’re going to get back on. I didn’t come this far and get this messed up for nothing. I want to know I can ride him. I would have never come off if I’d had my saddle. So the girls started back toward the stump. Then Vicki spotted a section of old post and rail fence and told Kate to tie the loose ends of the reins in a knot and head over there. I think I should get on first this time. If I can get Ireland relaxed and standing, I think Merlin will be more likely to settle.

    Vicki pulled Ireland near the fence and worked her way up a few rails, assuring the big horse that everything would be all right. This time her mounting went much better. She was closer to him as she swung her leg over and gently slid up on his back. Ireland showed no reaction. He stood calmly and waited for the next command. Kate, now do it just like I did. Use the fence, and you can get high enough to get on quietly and softly. Kate didn’t seem to appreciate the helpful hints, though she followed the steps like a how-to manual. In one smooth move, Kate was also mounted. They began walking to the outdoor arena, which was only about fifty feet from where they’d both managed to mount.

    I can’t believe you didn’t break something, Vicki joked. Kate didn’t respond but silently gave thanks. As the girls reached the riding arena they were feeling more confident about their mounts. Vicki gently moved her legs back and forth to see Ireland’s reaction to simple movements. She could feel the gelding’s explosive but contained power; he was ready to work, just waiting for his rider’s command. Kate slowly shifted from one seat bone to the other to see what Merlin would do. The big gelding shifted his weight to follow her motion. He knew his stuff. Kate leaned forward and patted his neck, one side and then the other. Then she hugged him, and he responded with a faint nicker. I think he likes me, Kate announced. Oh, you think every horse loves you, Vicki teased.

    The sand arena reflected the moonlight, bright as a beach in the Caribbean. Kate was fascinated as she watched her shadow dance alongside on the ground. God, Vicki! Look at us. I think we’re floating. Seriously, are we even touching the ground? Merlin, you are my dream man! Vicki wasn’t listening. Something had caught Ireland’s eye and had him trying out for Riverdance. Vicki tried to calm the big gray as Kate babbled on about her ride. Finally he began to settle, and Vicki finally spoke. I can’t believe the power I can feel under me with this guy. I can only imagine taking those grand prix jumps. Sailing through the air with hang time Michael Jordon wouldn’t know what to do with.

    The girls continued to experiment with the well-behaved and well-trained horses they were stealing an experience on. Kate began to feel braver and asked for a lengthened trot. Merlin’s huge movement began to dislodge her as she grabbed for his mane and pulled on the reins, and, half laughing yet panicked, repeated Whoa! in varying tones and decibels. Easy, Vicki called as she pulled Ireland to a halt in the middle of the arena. Sit up, she said as Kate regained control of her seat and Merlin’s tempo.

    You can’t even imagine how that felt. It was like floating over the top of mini explosions. Unbelievable! I wish I knew the commands for some of the fancy moves we’ve seen him do. Like when he trots in place. That must be awesome. Wow. I can’t believe I just did that. Kate couldn’t get the words out fast enough. She was known to be a talker, but a real thrill had motivated this verbal barrage. He looks even better than you can imagine, Vicki noted. He was floating along, and that wasn’t even all he had to offer you. I think he might still be nervous, though; look at the steam coming off his neck. That’s what they call worry sweat. Vicki suggested Kate just calmly walk the big gelding to relax him and let him know this weird adventure would end soon.

    How’s Ireland doing? Kate asked. We haven’t been able to do much. First he was a little excited about something, and when I got him settled we sat and watched the Kate and Merlin Show. Vicki broke into a trot and began to circle the arena. Kate watched as she very quietly picked up a canter—by far the gelding’s best gait. Vicki sat as steadily as in an easy chair, with hardly any movement as she followed the horse’s movement, ground-covering, yet soft and flowing. I never realized a canter could feel this great, Vicki said in amazement. It seems like we could circle this whole arena in a couple dozen strides."

    Vicki returned to a trot and came to a walk alongside Kate and Merlin. We need to head back to the barn and put these guys up. We have to get home before anybody realizes we aren’t there. Remember, ‘Miss Coordinated,’ we still have to climb back up the downspout to the second floor, now that you broke the trellis, then crawl along the roof to the bedroom window. I know, I know, said Kate. It’s just so much fun riding these two. Can you even believe what we just did and what would it be like with proper gear? The girls started their walk back to the barn, sharing thoughts and dreams at rapid speed. Then Vicki pulled up for a second. What’s wrong? asked Kate. Did we come out here this same way? Vicki said. I don’t remember that big log over there. It might be slightly different, but only by twenty feet or so. It probably just looks different now. We were pretty excited and probably didn’t much pay attention to the scenery," Kate answered.

    Suddenly Vicki cued the gray back into a trot and veered off toward the fallen log. She steered him right at the log, leaned forward, and grabbed a handful of mane as they jumped it. It was a beautiful jump, and Vicki never seemed to be out of sync with the big guy. Vicki raised both arms skyward. Yes! Nice job, Vicki! You belong on a horse like him. You looked incredible, just like any of those grand prix riders we watched yesterday on ESPN.

    As they neared the barn they realized they’d headed toward a different side from where they started. When they got closer they were near the young stallion, who still seemed worked up about something. We’re lucky he didn’t get someone’s attention at the house. I wish we could get him back in his stall, but we could never fix that door he’s wrecked, Kate said. Vicki scanned the area and noticed another door that she believed would lead into the stall area. Look—we can go into the barn right there. The sooner we get away from that stud, the sooner he’ll settle down. It still bothers me that there are no lights on at the house. Just seems strange.

    The girls quietly dismounted, finding it was a lot bigger drop than when they jumped off their ponies. Kate stumbled backward a step or two, then recovered her balance. They flipped the reins over the horses’ heads and stepped in front to lead them to the door they’d chosen to try. It was ajar, so they were confident they could get in. You first, Vicki directed. "Merlin’s stall should be

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