Five

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I was always in pain. At some point every day I would suddenly feel as though someone had sunk a cleaver into my head. The pain tended to radiate out from my forehead, over my left eye; I guessed that was the spot that had spidered the glass and given me my concussion. It was so intense at first that, whatever I was doing, I would just sink to the ground and press my forehead into my hands, trying to hold my skull together.

My broken finger and ribs didn’t bother me as much, they were just nagging background pains, except at night when the ribs kept me from sleeping. When I wasn’t already awake from the nightmares, that is.

But worse by far than any of those was the constant raw wound in my gut. I felt as though a sharp-clawed, razor-toothed animal had tried to rip its way out of me. I couldn’t eat; not only was I completely lacking in appetite, but whenever I did manage to get a morsel down, stabbing pains in my stomach immediately made me sorry I’d tried. It was so bad that I worried they’d missed something at the hospital, though I didn’t say anything. After a week of watching me sit around holding my stomach, though, Dec dragged me back there. The doctor palpated and ran tests — nothing was wrong. Except for the fact that I felt lacerated inside.

I refused to talk about Blaze. In fact, I barely spoke at all. I was allowed home after two days in the hospital, and Dec let me stay home for another week before suggesting I try going to school. I shrugged. I really didn’t want to face anyone, but I knew Dec wouldn’t let me stay home forever.

I dutifully went to school the next day. Seth hovered solicitously most of the time but we didn’t have all our classes together, and in any case, he couldn’t prevent people from talking to me entirely. So I did my best to avoid eye contact, slinking around with my shoulders hunched and answering in monosyllables if I was cornered. I was grateful for Teri’s presence. She was also suffering over Blaze’s death, and I could feel her unspoken support whenever she was near. When I got home that night I was exhausted. It was Wednesday, which meant that I had a lesson to teach, but I didn’t feel up to it. I asked Seth to cancel it and collapsed into bed.

I woke up screaming. Seth burst through the door seconds later; he rushed over and put his arms around me.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Shh.”

I cried into his T-shirt for a few minutes before managing to get myself back under control. The only times I cried were after waking from nightmares. This wasn’t the first time Seth had run into my room in the middle of the night. Dec had come in too, the first two or three times, but he seemed at a loss for what to say. After that, he’d let Seth handle it. I was a bit surprised that Seth woke up to my screams, because he usually slept like the dead, but then maybe he wasn’t sleeping soundly these days either. It reminded me piercingly of the time after our mother had died. That was the last time I’d cried in anyone’s arms, and Seth had been the one to hold me then, too. Only then we’d cried on each other.

I pulled away from him and wiped my tears on my sleeve. His fair hair was disheveled, and he was in pajama pants.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be dumb, Sis. I’m here for you.” There was a furrow between his brows, and his eyes, which looked almost black in the dim light, were troubled.

“I think I’m going to stay home tomorrow. School’s still too tiring for me,” I muttered.

“Good idea, give yourself time. I’ll tell Dec in the morning if you want.”

I accepted his offer gratefully; the more time I could spend hiding out in my room, the better. Unfortunately, Dec had other ideas about my hiding out. He let me stay home Thursday and Friday, but made it clear that starting Monday I’d have to go back, and keep going. Gran agreed with him.

“It’s not healthy, dear. Your injuries are healing. If you’re to get past this, you need to return to your normal routine, your normal life,” she told me one afternoon when I’d ventured to the kitchen for a drink.

I looked at her incredulously. Normal life? Life would never be ‘normal’ for me again. Not that my life had been that normal to begin with.

“I know it’s terribly difficult, dear, but really — your friends call, and you won’t speak with them. Your students arrive and you don’t teach them. And you’re going to fall too far behind in school.” She came over and put her arm around me. I tried not to cringe. I didn’t like anyone touching me these days.

* * *

Karen showed up the next morning to teach our usual Saturday morning lesson. I forced myself to go outside, more to get away from Dec’s worried glances than to see anyone. It was a bright, sunny day, not too frigid for late January, and my boots crunched in the snow as I made my way slowly to the barn. This was the first time I was venturing in there since the accident, two weeks before. I wasn’t sure whether anyone realized that. Normally I almost lived in the barn, I don’t think it had occurred to anyone that I was avoiding it. But I had been. I didn’t want to see Blaze’s empty stall, the physical symbol of the immense emptiness left in my heart, and in my life.

I stepped slowly into the familiar, horsey-smelling warmth. The sounds of chewing, rustling, and snorting were the same as ever, the most homey sound I could imagine. The glow of the polished wooden surfaces welcomed me, and it wasn’t until I relaxed that I realized how tensely coiled my posture had been. I followed the sound of voices into the main boarder aisle.

“Téa, how are you, honey?” Karen came over immediately and draped her arm around my shoulders.

“I’m... okay, I guess,” I mumbled. What could I say? That I wished a big hole would open up in the Earth and swallow me? “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap, mostly. Dante’s recovering well, though, so I can’t complain.” I flinched at the mention of the other horse’s name. Not that I wasn’t pleased to hear he was improving. I noticed Teri and Julia hovering a few feet away, watching me with sorrowful expressions.

“Hey,” I acknowledged them.

They both came and hugged me then, and I had to grind my teeth and then bite my tongue to keep from crying. I tasted blood in my mouth and pulled away as soon as I could.

“Nice day for a lesson,” I commented, drawing attention away from myself. And hopefully forestalling any questions.

“Yes. How long until you can ride again?” Julia asked.

“Another four weeks,” I responded morosely. Not that I felt any desire to ride, anyway. That was the strangest thing of all; I couldn’t remember a time in my life when riding wasn’t the most fervent desire of my heart. I considered it a basic need, right up there with eating, which I admittedly wasn’t doing much of, either. I made an effort to talk for a few minutes before I escaped to the school horse aisle.

My friends there were all happy to see me. They greeted me with soft whickers, pressing their noses against the bars or reaching out over their half-doors. I went from stall to stall, petting a neck here and a nose there, and being nudged and rubbed against. Their touch didn’t bother me; on the contrary, it was a relief to be in their warm, sweet-smelling, completely accepting presence. After seeing all the school horses, though, I knew whose company I really wanted.

I let myself into Zac’s stall as quietly as I could. He pricked his ears and ambled right over, leaving his hay, and as usual, he came to rest with his chin on my shoulder. I stood with my arms around him for a long time, until I began to get tired.

Karen found me as I was exiting the stall.

“I wanted to ask you, Téa,” she began in a low voice, “are you still okay with telling everyone that I was driving?”

“Sure.” It made no difference to me, and as she had pointed out when she came to the hospital, it would save us both considerable trouble. I wouldn’t lose my learner’s permit — and my chance at a driver’s license — and she would be able to collect the insurance for her truck and trailer.

“I just want to make sure it’s not stressing you out.”

“No. I’m fine.”

The concern in her brown eyes was already too familiar to me. “Call me if you ever want to talk about it.”

I nodded, but I knew I never would. I’d heard all the platitudes, and I didn’t believe them. I’d had my heart broken before, I knew it wouldn’t heal. Scar tissue would just form around it, and make it a little harder.

* * *

Jaden showed up the next day. I was in the house, staring blankly at the computer screen, and he headed straight for me. I shrank back slightly as he got close. He stopped, but didn’t look offended, as some people did. He settled his long frame onto the arm of the couch a few feet away from me. He’d gone to Florida to play polo the day after Christmas and was tanned from his time there.

“Hi.” His tone was light, but his eyes examined my face carefully. I looked away.

“Hey.”

There was a pause. When he went on, his voice was quiet, and rougher than usual.

“Téa, I’m, so, so, sorry, honey.” I heard him take a breath; he went on slowly. “I had to have a horse put down once. She went down under me in the middle of a match, at a full gallop. She couldn’t be saved. The pain and guilt I felt over it were... excruciating. I’m not saying it’s the same as what you’re feeling. Blaze was special. I think everyone who saw him knew that, and the two of you had a tremendous bond. But I do have an inkling of what you’re dealing with. If there’s anything I can do, or there’s anything you want, no matter how minor — or major — just ask, okay?”

I glanced at him; the pain on his face was real. I nodded. He nodded back before heading outside. He didn’t come near me, to my relief, but I’d been surprisingly touched by his words. It sounded like he understood, to a degree, about Blaze. But there was nothing he could do. My life was empty.

School on Monday was hell. I attracted unwanted attention twice by sinking to my knees in the hallway and clutching my head. One of those times I was sent to the nurse’s office. I was happy to miss a class but then I feel asleep on the cot and woke up screaming, as usual, which caused the nurse to call Dec, who came to pick me up. He seemed almost at his wit’s end on the drive home. I was pretty sure he thought I was on the verge of some kind of breakdown, an eventuality that would petrify him. I resolved to keep it together a bit better.

The weeks passed in a fog, getting marginally better as people moved on to fresh topics of gossip. I hardly spoke at school and my teachers had mostly stopped calling on me. I had always been a good student, so they probably wouldn’t worry until they saw my grades, which I suspected would be dropping precipitously. Not that I cared. I was teaching riding again, though without much enthusiasm. Seth had taken over some of my lower-level classes, and he continued to teach them to lessen my workload.

It was mid-February. I hadn’t ridden in five weeks and was beginning to feel the first faint whispers of desire to get on a horse, which I thought was encouraging. Aunt Paloma and Jaden had just arrived for lunch, but before heading to the house I had to change the dressing on Splash’s leg — somehow he had managed to cut himself while he was turned out the day before.

Marcus came around the corner. “Hey, I want to ride and there’s a horse in the arena,” he complained.

“Oh, right. I’ll get him in a minute, just let me finish up here,” I said absently, applying ointment to the gash.

“I don’t have much time,” he said impatiently.

I sighed. Marcus always found something to complain about. I couldn’t very well leave Splash half-bandaged, though.

“Feel free to bring him in yourself,” I hinted.

“Oh, all right,” he said petulantly, turning on his heel.

I was just smoothing down the bandage when a commotion made my head snap up. Through the open arena door, I saw Zac rear up while Marcus swore loudly and jerked on the lead shank. Searing heat flashed through me. I was already running before I registered the chain over Zac’s nose. My sensitive baby never needed that extra control, and Marcus had obviously hurt him.

I launched myself at Marcus from three feet away; the impact from my body sent him down flat on his back. I had just gotten onto his chest and drawn back my fist when I was jerked upward by what felt like an iron bar around my middle. A lancing pain shot through my injured ribs. I struggled instinctively, and my arms were quickly pinned down by more iron.

“Get Zac and get in the barn, now,” a low voice growled in my ear.

I only hesitated for a second; Zac was a short distance away, tossing his head up and down in distress. I gave a curt nod and Jaden released me. I could hear Marcus starting to swear as his breath came back.

“Whoa, baby, it’s okay. Let me see your poor nose,” I murmured to Zac as I unclipped the chain. There was a welt forming across the bony bridge of his nose, and I rubbed it as I led him into the barn. I heard Marcus’s heated voice and Jaden’s smooth one arguing as I passed, my eyes locked on Zac.

Jaden came in as I was closing the door to Zac’s stall. He grabbed my shoulders; I thought he was going to shake me but he just spun me around to face him.

“Téa, have you looked in a mirror lately?” He said it with painful restraint, but his eyes were scorching.

“Um...” I was confused by his question and his unblinking glower was making it hard for me to think.

“You — are — a — small — girl,” he bit off each word distinctly. “For you to attack a full-grown man like that is insane.”

“Did you see what he did to Zac?” I demanded. My power of speech returned in a rush as my temper began to flare again. Small flames were erupting inside my chest, but they felt good. It had been too long since I’d felt anything.

“That’s irrelevant-”

“Not to me!”

“What if he had hit you back? What if I hadn’t been nearby? Did you pause for one second to consider what would happen after your daring rescue?” His intensity was oddly intimidating, considering that he didn’t raise his voice.

I was saved from answering by Seth’s arrival.

“Nice move, Sparky,” he grinned, shaking his head. For once I couldn’t blame him for using my hated nickname.

I couldn’t think of a witty riposte, so I settled for, “Shut up.”

“Seriously though, what are you going to tell Dec when we lose a boarder because he was assaulted by an elf?”

I’d been trying not to think that far ahead, but now I was gripped by worry. It eased a bit when Jaden answered, “I don’t think that will be a problem. For one thing, I pointed out to Marcus that he could be held responsible for any injuries to Zac. And honestly, can you see him admitting publicly that Téa was able to take him out?”

He and Seth both looked at me and howled with laughter.

“If you’re quite done...” I turned away, miffed, but a hand caught my elbow.

“Come on, little Defender of the Downtrodden,” Jaden said, snickering, “let’s go inside and plan your defense. We still have to tell Dec.”

* * *

The brief flare of emotion I’d felt while avenging Zac didn’t last. I drifted through the days in a haze, doing the absolute minimum I had to. About a week later I decided to try riding again. I was supposed to wait another week, but I felt okay. I would just have to be careful of my splinted finger. I tacked up Winter, Seth’s horse, and spent half an hour doing some leisurely riding in the arena. I popped him over a few small jumps at the end; my ribs hurt a bit, but the effort felt good all the same. It was the first thing that had felt good to me in a long time.

So I started riding again, but I didn’t have a particular horse in training and I really missed it. I missed building that bond of trust, imparting knowledge and in turn learning from each horse, and enjoying the flowering of what was, every time, a unique relationship.

Seth had taken our pooled money and bought us a car, an old Toyota that he claimed would run for a long time. I was happy not to be taking the school bus anymore. We got home almost an hour earlier this way, so it was still light out when we got home one afternoon and saw the trailer parked near the barn. We headed straight there.

Dec was in front of a stall in the school horse aisle. Circling nervously inside it was a smallish palomino horse; he stopped only briefly to regard us suspiciously before continuing his inspection of his new home.

“Who’s this?” Seth inquired.

“He doesn’t have a name, as far as I know,” Dec said. “I got him from Rodney.”

I grimaced. Rodney was the type of horse dealer that gave horse dealers a bad name. “What’s his story?” I asked, interested despite myself.

“I don’t know much, but apparently he’s fairly well schooled and can jump a small course. He was outside when I saw him and he’s a nice mover. You’ve been saying we could use another school horse. I know he’ll probably have issues, but I’m sure you can sort them out. In any case, he was cheap.”

That raised my suspicions even more, but he was very attractive, I had to admit. His body was almost the exact color of gold, and his mane and tail, though dirty, were a silvery white. He had a stripe on his finely chiseled face, and good conformation.

“Is he a Quarter Horse?” I asked, noting the well-developed hindquarters.

“Appendix registered, apparently. Half Thoroughbred too.”

That was surprising, given his size — he wasn’t much over fifteen hands, I guessed.

“By the way, we have some more changes coming,” Dec announced as we turned away from the stall. “Marcus is moving his horse out.”

I stiffened. Dec knew about the arena incident, but Jaden had told him that we’d smoothed it over. I raised my eyes cautiously to find Dec watching me.

“It’s okay, Téa, I’m not going to mourn his loss. We all know what a pain he was.”

I relaxed.

“And in any case, we already have someone new moving in — Jaden.” He smiled, obviously happy with his announcement. “He’s going to be a pro at the new polo club next summer.”

“But doesn’t he play in other countries during the summer?” Seth voiced what I’d been wondering, too.

“Normally, yes. And the level of play at the Killean club will be far beneath what he’s accustomed to, but he wants to stay closer to home this year.” The nearby polo club had opened only two years earlier, and I wasn’t familiar with it, as I didn’t know anyone who played polo. Well, besides Jaden.

The next day I went to see the little palomino after school and discovered the reason for his cheap sale price. The minute I opened the stall door he lunged at me with ears pinned and teeth bared; I staggered backward as I slammed the door and heard his hooves crash against it.

“Whoa,” I panted. That was the least friendly reception I’d ever gotten. No wonder he’d ended up at Rodney’s. Since he was on the smaller side he would have been sold as a kid’s horse, and no one wanted an aggressive horse for their child. This was going to take some work, but I was intrigued; it’s quite rare for a horse to be aggressive, and I’d never encountered one that would actually try to attack in his stall.

I went and got a handful of grain and cautiously opened the door only wide enough for my hand to fit through. The little gelding had smelled the grain, but he still pinned his ears back and shook his head menacingly.

“There’s no need for that,” I chided, carefully extending the grain toward him. “I’m just being friendly, see? You’ll like it here if you give it a chance.”

He seemed interested in my voice, so I kept murmuring to him as he took a hesitant step forward and started eating the grain. I was careful to hold absolutely still while he ate, breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn’t tried to bite my hand.

The pattern varied slightly over the next week. After two days I’d managed to get inside the stall and put a halter on him, and I left it on. We normally took them off in the stalls, for reasons of both comfort and safety, but it was safer for me to be able to catch him easily. I asked Dec to make sure no one else handled him, explaining that he was a bit tricky. It made a fair amount of extra work for me since I had to clean his stall after school. I didn’t want Alan, whose job it was to clean the stalls and feed, to be injured. By week’s end, the little palomino had made some progress and wasn’t trying to savage me every time he saw me. He would consent to eat some grain and let me lead him outside to stretch his legs in a paddock.

I didn’t tell Dec the extent of his behavior problems. If Dec knew the horse was that aggressive he would have gotten rid of him right away, and I wanted the chance to work with him a bit first. A horse who threatens people stands a very good chance of winding up dead. Changing his behavior could save his life.

Jaden’s horses arrived the first Saturday in March, and Seth and I went to help unload them. Seth came down the ramp first with a pretty, leggy chestnut mare, and headed inside.

“You’d better stand back while I take Kermit out,” Jaden warned. “He doesn’t trailer well.”

I moved away a safe distance, interested now. Jaden came down the ramp with an obviously stressed horse — he was wringing his tail and sweating, looking anxiously left and right as he backed down the ramp.

“Wow, is he always like that?” I asked as Jaden led his horse into a stall. He left the blanket on, which was a good idea considering how wet Kermit was.

“Unfortunately, yes. He’s an incredible horse, but polo ponies travel a lot, and it’s a nightmare going places with him. Usually, he’s tranquilized but this was such a short trip, I didn’t want to drug him.”

I watched Kermit carefully. This was probably something I could help with, but I didn’t say anything; I’d almost used up my quota of talking for the day. Seth came over and checked out Kermit too.

“Nice horse,” he complimented Jaden. “What would you call his color?”

“Mouse dun,” I answered at the same time as Jaden said, “Grulla.”

He smiled at me. “You’re right.”

“You’re right too. I know it’s Spanish, but that’s what the Western people call it, also. I’ve never seen it on a full-sized horse, though, only on ponies. What’s his breeding?”

“He’s Argentine-bred, a mix of Thoroughbred and local breeds; they make the best polo ponies in the world.” He looked at his horse with obvious pride. It actually made me smile, for a second.

We left Jaden’s horses to settle in, and I went to collect Schweppes, the little palomino. Some of the barn rats — the lesson kids who hung around a lot — had named him after a ginger ale brand and it had stuck. Today he greeted me by swinging his hindquarters my way. As I was about to go in I felt a hand on my shoulder, ready to yank me back. I sighed as I turned to see Jaden.

“It’s okay, he’s only bluffing.”

“How do you know?” His eyes were on Schweppes, his hand still tense on my shoulder.

“Look at him. Sure, his ears are back, but his tail is clamped down, not swishing, and his feet are quiet, not stamping. That’s a defensive posture, though he’s pretending to be aggressive. He’s psyching me out.”

Jaden’s face relaxed. “Hey, you’re right.”

I shrugged. “You might still get a show, though. I’m riding him for the first time today.”

I tacked up carefully. Schweppes was touchy, swishing his tail and sidestepping on the crossties. He snapped at me twice when I got close to his head. Jaden insisted on standing nearby.

“You know, Jaden, this is my job. I deal with difficult horses all the time. You don’t have to hover,” I said. I was a bit annoyed by his lack of faith in my abilities.

“You’re seventeen, Téa,” he replied shortly. “You shouldn’t have a job that warrants danger pay.”

Normally I would have argued, but I was too tired. I let it drop. He could take it up with his uncle if he wanted.

Schweppes was a surprise under saddle. He was athletic, balanced, and fairly well-schooled. It seemed we’d found a good school horse for our more advanced riders — though I might have to supervise when they were handling him on the ground.

* * *

Jaden spent the night so he could get his horses settled. After I was done with Schweppes he spent most of Saturday studying, which made me feel a bit guilty for the lack of effort I’d been putting into school. I figured if an international polo player — who was doubtless used to a much more glamorous lifestyle — could buckle down and study, then I should be able to slog through some prosaic grade eleven material. I went to my room and made an effort for a couple of hours, but I couldn’t concentrate, especially with the puzzle of a new horse to figure out.

I had trouble sleeping, so I stayed in bed as late as possible on Sunday. Unfortunately, I had a lesson to teach at nine, so a few minutes before the hour I dragged myself into the kitchen for some coffee.

“Hey guys,” I yawned. Seth and Jaden were at the kitchen table.

I finished adding cream and sugar and headed out with my travel mug. I nearly fell over when a hand caught the back of my sweater.

“Where are you going?” Jaden asked.

“I have a lesson to teach,” I said blankly. Where did he think I was going?

“You didn’t eat anything,” he pointed out. He looked disapproving.

I shrugged. “I don’t have time, I’m late already.”

He let go, shaking his head.

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” I teased on my way out. “You’ll get wrinkles on that pretty face.”

Jaden came to find me in the cold arena a few minutes later. He handed me a cheese sandwich wrapped in a napkin, and I looked up at him in surprise.

“Eat,” he ordered.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. I took a bite; the grin he gave me made me smile in response. A real smile — I actually felt lighter, for a minute. I turned back to my students, bemused. I wasn’t used to being taken care of.

We all had lunch together, Dec, Seth, Jaden and I.

“Can you bring me copies of your horses’ Coggins tests and vaccination papers?” I asked Jaden before I could forget. “I’ll set up a file for each of them.”

“Sure. You’re the one who does that?” He glanced at Dec questioningly.

“It’s easier that way,” I explained while Dec was chewing. “I usually coordinate with the vet, and I organize the show papers.”

On top of managing the stable, Dec also took contracts as an efficiency consultant, which had been his career before he’d returned to the barn after Granddad died. Seth and I picked up the slack as much as possible while Dec worked on those projects.

“Tell us about Piba and Kermit, what are they like?” I asked.

Jaden was so animated when he talked about his horses, his whole demeanor changed. It reminded me of... well, me. He gave us each horse’s background and told us about their likes and dislikes. I was surprised to hear that Piba was eight; her leggy build made her look like a filly.

“Yes,” Jaden laughed when I told him so, “and she’s the girliest mare you’ll ever meet. Hates to be dirty or walk through mud, and loves to be groomed for hours.”

“What’s the deal with Kermit and the trailer?” I asked him.

He sighed. “I’m not sure. He’s always been petrified of it, and he actually copes better than he used to if you can believe it. For a while I even considered retiring him because the traveling is such an issue. I’ve tried practically everything.”

“Well, if you’re interested, I can probably help,” I offered.

“I don’t know,” he said skeptically. “I don’t think this is something I want to revisit with Kermit. We have a workable arrangement now.”

“Maybe it’s workable, but it’s hardly ideal, especially for him if he’s still getting off the trailer all sweaty and freaked out,” I said.

Jaden didn’t look convinced. Dec spoke up.

“I’d let her give it a shot if I were you, son. And I would watch and learn. She’s got quite a way with problem horses.”

“That’s because I don’t believe there’s such a thing as a ‘problem horse’,” I said with some asperity. “Only horses that have been messed up by bad handling or unrealistic expectations.”

“You’re in for a surprise, buddy,” Seth added with a grin.

Jaden chuckled. “Well, now I’ve got to say yes, I have to see this magic for myself. When do you want to start?”

“As soon as we can clear the snow out of the round pen, I suppose.”

“Well then, I’ll get right on it.” He smiled at me, and I felt suddenly warm.

We went outside. In between the barn and the square, red-brick house was a rectangular building, finished in the same beige and navy as the barn. Most of it was devoted to a two-car garage, but on one side, a separate section served as a storage area. We called it the shed. I went in and found us some shovels and we plodded through the fresh snow to the round pen.

“What are you going to do with him?” Jaden asked once we’d started shoveling.

“Some round pen work for a start, to establish trust, and then I’ll use clicker training to actually get him on the trailer.”

“And you really think it’ll work?”

I shrugged. “Every horse is different. I’ve had good results with that combination in the past, though.” In fact, I’d never seen it fail, but I didn’t want to get Jaden’s hopes up. I didn’t know the extent of Kermit’s trauma. I tried not to think about the fact that he was a very valuable horse, who had traveled to more countries than I had. Or that he was Jaden’s pride and joy. Those thoughts would only make me nervous, something I couldn’t afford to communicate to Kermit.

“Why don’t you let me shovel, Téa? It’s harder for you than for me.” It was true; he was clearing the space with ridiculous ease.

“I don’t mind, it’s keeping me warm. And I’m used to hard work.”

“Unfortunately,” Jaden said under his breath. At least that’s what it sounded like.

It didn’t take us long to clear the pen. Jaden brought Kermit out, and at my request stayed outside the fence to watch.

“Please don’t talk to me until I’m done,” I said. Not only would I need to concentrate, but I didn’t want Kermit to focus on Jaden’s voice.

I led Kermit into the pen and started the process of driving him forward and away from me. He trotted around the ring; eventually, he dropped his head, his inside ear angled toward me, and began working his jaw. I softened my body language, bringing my hands close to my body and angling away from him slightly, and he tightened the circle he was making around me. At that, I turned and took a few steps away from him, and within seconds he walked up beside me. I stroked his neck gently, went to stand on his left side, and tried walking away. He followed closely, now acknowledging me as his leader and therefore, not a predator or someone to be feared.

I walked Kermit back to the barn without the lead shank. He stayed glued to my side the entire way, nudging me occasionally and keeping his near side eye on me.

“Wow,” Jaden commented. “I’ve never seen him behave that way with anyone. How does it work?”

I explained how join-up inspires trust because you are using body language, which is the horse’s own method of communicating, as well as telling him that I was assuming the role of ‘lead mare’ — the real leader in an equine herd, as opposed to the stallion, who is essentially there for protection and to fight off challengers. We were headed back to the house; I was dying for a hot drink. My hands were frozen inside their gloves.

“And what does clicker training involve?”

I smiled at his enthusiasm. We got to the kitchen and started making hot chocolate as I explained.

“It’s really classical or operant conditioning by another name,” I said. “You know, based on B.F. Skinner’s work.”

“The salivating dog and the bell, right.” He nodded. I was glad he was familiar with the premise, at least.

“Could you pass me the milk, please?”

As he handed it to me his hand brushed mine.

“You’re freezing!” he exclaimed. He promptly lifted the milk away and took my hand between both of his. He started rubbing it gently; his hands felt downright hot.

“So how does classical conditioning work?” he continued without missing a beat. His unusual eyes were alight with curiosity as they rested on my face. I felt suddenly strange. My breathing had faltered when he had taken my hand, probably from the shock of his warm hands on my frozen one. He changed hands now, starting on my other one.

“Um,” I struggled to remember what I’d been saying. “Oh, right. Clicker training rewards every partial step toward a desired behavior. For instance, if Kermit took one step toward a trailer — even if he was still fifty yards away — then he’d be rewarded for that.”

“Hmm...” He was lost in thought, still rubbing my hand absently. My hand was tingling, it must have been more frozen than I’d thought. “It must take a long time, then.”

He released me, finally, and I went back to making our drinks. My mind was clearer now that I had my hands back.

“It’s a lot faster than you’d think. The great thing about this method is that it allows you to communicate so easily, you can almost see the lightbulb going on over their heads. You may be surprised at how smart Kermit is.” I couldn’t contain my own enthusiasm either. I always loved sharing this gentle, positive training method, but it was especially nice now, with Jaden so interested and attentive.

We sat at the table, hot chocolates in hand.

“Nothing Kermit does would surprise me,” he said. “He’s the best. Did you know I’ve had him since I was fifteen? And he was three?”

“No, I didn’t.” I felt a sudden, unreasoning stab of jealousy. Though I longed for it, constancy had never been a big part of my life. I’d thought that would change with Blaze. I had thought we’d be together for the next twenty years, at least. I gazed into my mug, feeling the raw wound in my gut again, not wanting to show it.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That was thoughtless of me.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

He hesitated. “Look, Téa, if you ever want to talk...”

I shook my head without looking at him. I swallowed hard and forced myself to raise my head. His face was sympathetic rather than pitying; I was able to hold his gaze.

“Where did you find him?” I was determined to be able to carry on a normal conversation.

He only hesitated for an instant. “In Argentina. He was a birthday present from my mom.”

My jaw dropped. He grinned at my look of amazement.

“I was spoiled rotten, I know.” He paused, thinking. “I was going through a hard time, and I think my mom hoped that polo would focus my energies on something positive, and it worked. At least, it delayed the worst of the trouble.”

I couldn’t believe that I was related to someone with that kind of lifestyle, who could jet down to another continent to buy a horse. Seth and I considered ourselves fortunate, but we were always working, and Dec worked two jobs. I managed to close my mouth while he was talking.

“And what made you pick Kermit?” Attraction — whether between or within a species — is so subtle, yet also so definite. I always found it fascinating.

His whole face softened; his eyes were liquid with affection as he thought about his horse. I felt a sudden rush of warmth toward him. He truly was a kindred spirit, in some ways.

“There were so many things. The Argentineans breed the best polo ponies in the world, so some things you’d expect: he’s very fast, he has good endurance, and he’s agile. But Kermit himself is something else. It was his color that first made me notice him, and as I got to know him I discovered he’s intelligent, and courageous, and tough. He’s got a very strong personality, and I liked that about him. He’s quirky. For instance, the first year I had him he bucked every time I got on him. I checked his tack, had the vet check him from nose to tail, tried changing our routine, but it was just his way of making me take him seriously. That’s how he got his name; he bucked like a frog.” He chuckled at the memory.

I nodded, smiling. It was the kind of thing that would attract me, too.

* * *

Jaden headed back to Toronto, and I headed upstairs to do homework, but two hours later I’d gotten very little done. I sighed; I didn’t know what I was going to do about school. Dec was going to have a fit when he saw my report card.

I found myself engaging less and less with my classmates, except for Teri who, bless her, was the same down-to-earth, supportive friend as ever, despite my grim moodiness. The only points of light were at the barn when I worked with Kermit and Schweppes. I initiated clicker training with Kermit. Since it began with me feeding him treats every time I pressed the clicker, Kermit, like most horses, was happy to cooperate. As we progressed, though, he proved to be very inquisitive and intelligent — I enjoyed working with him. Jaden was right about his horse, he was a character. I also brought Schweppes out to the round pen. It took a lot longer to achieve ‘join up’ with him than it had with Kermit, which just confirmed my theory that Schweppes had trust issues.

On Saturday morning I had Catherine, one of my best students, ride Schweppes in a lesson and within minutes he had bucked her off. I got on him, worried, but he seemed to be fine when I rode him. I was still shaking my head when I went into the barn and saw Jaden. Piba was on the crossties.

“I saw some of the action,” he commented.

“Weird, isn’t it? I’m not sure what’s bothering him.”

“Well, this isn’t my area of expertise Téa, but you’re a very soft, fluid rider. It looks to me like he simply prefers your riding style.”

“I hope you’re wrong there,” I said, shaking my head, “because he’s supposed to be a school horse. Dec won’t keep him if I’m the only one who can ride him.”

Jaden tacked up while I put Schweppes away.

“Wow, that’s a lot of gear,” I remarked. Piba was wearing way more tack than I was used to seeing.

“You’ll have to come watch a game this summer,” he said. “You’ll see why we need it.”

I’d been curious about Jaden’s riding. To be honest, my expectations weren’t high. The horse world is pretty hierarchical and showjumpers, like me, are generally considered to be the top of the heap, although every discipline naturally thought highly of its own style. What I’d heard of polo players didn’t lead me to believe they were particularly skilled riders, though they were certainly tough. But Jaden surprised me. He rode languidly, his natural athleticism becoming evident right away. I noted the differences in riding style, but mostly I analyzed Jaden with the skill honed by many years of teaching riding. He was relaxed, balanced, effective, and most importantly, Piba appeared to be a happy and willing partner in their efforts. I mentally revised my opinion of polo players upward by several notches.

When he was done with Piba I asked Jaden to follow me. I went into Kermit’s stall and patted his neck.

“You’ve got a very smart boy here,” I told Jaden. “He’s learning a lot. Why don’t you take a bow for all your hard work, Kermit?”

Kermit promptly sank onto one knee, his other foreleg extended, and bowed his head down. I almost laughed aloud at the astonished look on Jaden’s face.

“That’s amazing,” he exclaimed.

“I’m not trying to turn him into a trick pony or anything, but I wanted to start with something basic to help him grasp the concept of the clicker. And he learned very fast, didn’t you, Kermit?”

I gave my head a tiny nod, one that would be almost imperceptible to the human eye, and Kermit nodded his sleek head up and down. This time Jaden laughed aloud. He had a nice laugh, I noticed — it was very carefree. He stepped into the stall and patted his horse.

“I can’t believe you taught him that so quickly,” he said, turning to me with his eyes shining. It took me a minute to look away.

“This type of thing is easy,” I assured him. “The hard part is still ahead of us. I was going to start today, in fact.”

The horse trailer was parked in a small paddock near the house. I collected the clicker and some treats, and we led Kermit toward the paddock. Halfway there he raised his head, snorting — he had spotted the trailer. His breath started coming faster, his tail went up and he started jogging and pulling on the lead shank.

At the gate, Jaden turned him loose. Kermit hugged the fence and did a high-stepping trot to the far corner while I headed for the trailer. The fear came out of nowhere. It slammed into me, rooting me to the spot even as my limbs trembled and my breath came in rapid, shallow gasps. The sheer panic made it impossible to think; all I knew was that I had to get as far away from that trailer as possible. I backed away a few steps, then turned and headed for the fence. It took an incredible act of will to force myself not to run. I slipped through the fence boards and waited as my trembling lessened and my breathing slowed. Jaden loped over, frowning.

“What happened?” Damn, he’d noticed. This really wasn’t something I wanted to get into with him. Or anyone for that matter, other than Seth, who obviously knew.

“Nothing.” Fortunately, that came out sounding pretty casual. I was regaining my composure.

Jaden looked skeptical, but thankfully let it drop. I turned to watch Kermit. I pressed the clicker occasionally but soon called it quits; Kermit was agitated and I didn’t want him associating too much fear with the paddock, since he’d be back here frequently.

“He’s a tough case, isn’t he,” Jaden remarked as he led Kermit back to the barn.

“Yes, but don’t give up hope. It’s only our first try.”

* * *

The week at school was tortuous. Not only was I behind in everything, but I just couldn’t find it in myself to care. I hated being there, hated having to talk to people and try to act normal. Maybe it was because my mind wandered in class, and lately, it had begun venturing into forbidden territory — Blaze. Right after the accident, the pain had been so sharp, so overwhelming, that it had been relatively easy to shy away from any thought of him. My mind seemed to instinctively know what kind of suffering would follow thoughts of my dead horse, and it protected itself accordingly. Now, though, stray memories began to infiltrate my consciousness when my defenses were down. It was agonizing.

The only thing worse than school was Zac’s decline. As I had predicted, Anne wasn’t the right rider for him, and I watched with increasing dismay as he became a less confident jumper and eventually started refusing. It was absolutely infuriating, but she refused all offers of help from me. It was the one thing I still felt some strong emotion about, so maybe it wasn’t surprising that I made a foolish decision one night.

It was Friday evening, and I was alone. Seth was at swimming practice; Dec had gone out somewhere and told us not to expect him back until midnight or so. I wondered idly if he had a girlfriend. I was doing the last check of the deserted barn around nine and stopped at Zac’s stall when he whickered to me.

“I know, baby, I miss you too,” I told him, stepping into the stall. He rubbed his soft nose against my cheek. “What’s been going on with you lately, huh?” I asked him. “You’re not yourself out there. You don’t like Anne much, do you? Sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry you got sold to her.” I continued talking as I stroked his neck. The idea hit me with a sudden, blinding sense of rightness — I could ride Zac. Everyone was gone, no boarders would show up this late. I could actually jump some real, jumper-sized fences again.

I was in the arena warming up within minutes. Zac seemed thrilled to have me on his back again. He was going as well as ever, and it wasn’t long before I was jumping a line that I’d set up along one wall. He bounded over so joyfully that before long I raised it, then raised it again. Each time, he jumped it beautifully, and each time, I felt a small shift within me. It was as though, as my body moved in tune with Zac’s, something that had been tightly bound was being slowly released. For the first time since the accident, I felt like opening my eyes.