Shamrock Stable, Washington
Sunday, December 22nd, 11:10 am
As she finished up the first round of games for the beginning riders, Mom gestured to me and I hurried over to her. “What’s up?”
“I’m going to have the intermediates and advanced ride together now,” Mom said, waving for the beginners to turn their horses to face her. “We’ll split the group after lunch. Otherwise, we’ll be late for the potluck and the gift exchange. Tell Vicky she needs Summertime now and she can do Aladdin in the afternoon.”
“You got it.” I went over to the bleachers and passed the word. Autumn looked totally thrilled at the idea of riding with the big kids. Disappointment slipped into Vicky’s face for a moment before she blinked it away and pasted on her peppy cheerleader smile. She’d really worked hard with Aladdin and wanted him for the whole party.
“It’s too big a group for a young horse to pay attention,” I said. “After lunch, we’ll get the beginners to speed up their games a bit and then we’ll definitely have time for you to bring him in the ring.”
“Isn’t Summertime the one you said was afraid of everything?” Tom asked.
“Yes, so he takes a confident rider.” I smiled sweetly at him. “You’ll want to watch how Vicky handles him. He’s your next horse.”
Before Tom could say anything, I glanced over my shoulder and saw the riders dismounting. “Let’s go. We’ll help them put away the horses and then bring out the ones we’re riding.”
In a few minutes, Nevada and I led the troop of four riders from the top barn down to the arena. When we arrived, he snorted at the line of three barrels we’d wrapped in Christmas paper. He shied at the row of plastic candy canes I’d tied to small cones. I jerked on the reins so he had to pay attention to me. “Oh come on, you’ve seen all this stuff before during the summer and at Halloween. I just holidayed it up for the party.”
“Houston didn’t care about the toys.” Eddie told us from the sidelines as I walked Nevada around the ring, passing the group coming to sit on the bleachers. “What’s the matter with your horse?”
“He likes to make things exciting,” I said, jiggling the reins. “He doesn’t deal well with change.”
“I had students like that when I taught school.” Grandma found a place on the bench to sit with the beginning level riders. “It was worth my life to have a substitute because they always played “Sink the sub.” I had to tell them the consequences would be worse when I got back then the momentary pleasure of being stinkers.”
“I don’t think telling Nevada that he has two lunch detentions will work.” I turned him in a small circle and led him forward. “Or a parent conference with his mommy for that matter.”
“Try saying his mom will go to class with him all day,” Rhonda suggested. “Eddie hates it when I do that at his school.”
“It’s embarrassing,” Eddie said. “My friends make fun of me for days.”
“I can see that.” I spun Nevada in another circle. He danced and yanked on the reins. What a monster. I hadn’t even tried riding him yet. I heard Grandma talking to Grandpa, but I couldn’t pay attention to what she said. When I glanced back at our homemade grandstand, my grandfather and Dave were leaving the barn.
The problem with walking Nevada when he didn’t want to manner up was that he knew he could use his size against me. I jerked on his mouth again. He had to focus. I wouldn’t let him break away from me and trample over top of the other riders, especially since Autumn was here with her Shetland pony. I didn’t want this fourteen-hundred pound moron to win.
If I took him back to his stall, he’d learn that temper tantrums paid off and he’d continue bullying me for the rest of his Morgan/Belgian/Quarter-horse life. I was getting majorly ticked so his days were numbered.
“You could tell him to be nice or Santa won’t bring him any carrots,” Autumn told me, her pony cruising placidly beside her. “It works on Dream.”
Before I answered, I heard Grandpa call from the side gate. “Permission to join the class?”
“Everybody stop and stand still,” Mom said. “Keep circling him, Sierra. Come on in, Dad.”
The aluminum gate opened and Luchenbach entered the arena at a stately walk. I heard laughter from the bleachers as the students glimpsed Nevada’s mommy. Dave brought her over in front of my horse, reversing her so we could follow the giant red horse. The guys hadn’t taken time to saddle her—they’d just brought her down to the indoor arena on her bridle.
“You are so busted,” I said, glaring at the four-legged brat who pranced next to me. “Now, everyone knows you’re a total chicken-goober.”
My gelding nosed me, then stopped and stood quiet for the first time since the class began. I petted him, now that he wasn’t being a snot. “I’m so rationing your carrots.”
Dave chuckled. “I’m figuring you can play ‘follow the leader’ and he’ll be ready to work independently after lunch.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “He’s smart enough to know that I can’t thump him in front of an audience.”
“I read somewhere that horses are as smart as three-year-old kids,” Dave told me. “Mine always knew when and where to safely pitch a fit.”
I laughed. I had to admit the guy made me feel better, but not in an icky way. He reminded me of Robin’s dad who always jumped in to look after her. Mom instructed everyone to start walking around the ring again and Nevada followed Luke. She could have cared less about the brightly colored barrels and the candy canes. She was just happy to be part of the herd in the arena. She nickered at the crowd on the bleachers when they applauded as she approached.
Mom called for a reverse and we all changed directions, circling the arena again. Nevada was totally calm now, even if his mom followed instead of leading him. In a few moments, we stopped again. Everyone else tied a knot in their reins, but since I had a romal on mine, a long crop attached to the end of my reins, I didn’t need one. It wasn’t actually meant to hit a horse, but more of a noisemaker to move cattle when cowboys did stock work. However, when Nevada balked, the leather poppers came in handy to get his attention. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Dave position Luke’s. Did he plan to ride her bareback?
I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to stay on the ground. She was a steady old mare. Still, a lot of folks wouldn’t want to try riding a horse for the first time in a game setting. What if she bolted or spooked? Hang on, this was Luchenbach. She hadn’t done either in years. The class moved on toward the mounting benches.
Vicky was one of the first up on Summertime. She rode up to the far end of the arena, Autumn behind her on Dream. They immediately began leading exercises while the next two riders, Robin and Dani swung into their saddles. The other students continued the routine until it was my turn.
I led Nevada next to the bench. Mom stepped up and held the right rein and my off stirrup. “What’s up? I can do this by myself.”
“Humor me. I’m your mother and he’s doing his horse-show crap.”
“Okay.” I swung up and settled into the saddle. I slid my feet into the stirrups and collected on the reins. “I’m ready.”
“Good. Stay put until Dave is too.”
I looked behind me and watched him vault up onto Luke’s wide back. He nodded at me. I reined Nevada toward the rest of the horses and he moved forward at a medium walk like he’d been doing it for years. Talk about a real comedian.
We went through the warm-up of start, stop and turn circles faster than what the beginners could. After that, we rode on the left track, then the right. We lined up for games. Vicky held Summertime down to a slow trot which meant Autumn was the first across the finish line. When it finally got to my turn, I was against Dave. He would do the barrels while I weaved the candy canes.
Mom went over and coached him through the introduction and how to play his game. He added something nobody else heard, but she smiled in a way that I’d never seen her do before. And I’d watched a ton of guys flirt with her over the years. Dave must have a pretty special line.
I’d undoubtedly hear about it later when she shared with my grandmother, so I kept my mind on Nevada.
He snorted at the red and white plastic canes. If I’d been down here by myself, I’d have nailed him either with my legs or the romal for his snarky attitude, but I didn’t dare. Like Grandpa said, “beginners and horses can always learn a lesson in mean, so be careful what you teach,” and I wasn’t setting a bad example.
I reached down to pet Nevada’s red neck. “Hi, I’m Sierra and this is the best horse at Shamrock Stable, Nevada von Puke-stick.”
The audience laughed and I smoothed my horse’s golden mane. “We’re playing Candy Cane Lane. We’re going to weave through the canes three times and beat Nevada’s mommy to the North Pole.”
I hoped it would be as easy as I made it sound. Dave rode up to the first barrel and I sent Nevada after him and Luchenbach. Granted, we were side by side, not directly behind her and this time my horse focused on the job, not on acting scared of the horsy props. I used my seat to ask for a collected trot and Nevada flicked his ears. Then, he jogged a couple of steps.
He wound through the canes, left, right, left, until we reached the far end of the line. We went around the end, then began weaving back. I noticed Dave mirrored us and wondered just what he had in mind. He was only supposed to go through the barrels once, but he went around the last one and didn’t cross the finish line. Instead, he rode through the row of barrels again while Nevada and I went back up the candy canes again.
We made the last turn and I signaled for a trot. Nevada picked it up and jogged home beside his mom. We crossed the finish line and stopped at the same time. Lots of applause and Mom came over to me. She patted my knee. “Nice ride.”
“What are you going to do about Dave’s time?” I whispered. “He didn’t play the game the right way. He should have just weaved the barrels one time.”
Mom smiled and rested a hand on Nevada’s neck. “Oh, I’ll exercise some judge’s discretion and give him a special prize.”
“Okay, as long as you don’t penalize him. He’s never been to one of our parties before.”
“I’ll be fair,” Mom promised. “Now, let’s wind this up so we can have lunch. I’m sure the horses are ready to eat and I know the people are too.”
Robin helped me feed the hay in the top barn. When we reached the indoor arena, we discovered that Vicky had just finished down below. Tom had stuck around to help her. He lingered to feed Shiloh an extra carrot, then passed one to her grown daughter.
“Your horse has a lot of spirit,” Tom told me. “I don’t think I could ever handle one like him.”
“I wouldn’t call it spunk,” I said. “Sometimes, I think he’s in major brat mode. He doesn’t mind small groups, but he really isn’t good in large classes.”
“That’s one way to say it.” Robin heaved a sigh. “Whenever I see you or Vicky ride, I’m totally jealous. You can handle such obnoxious mounts and I don’t want to be on them. I hope Twaziem acts like Lady when you finish training him, Sierra. If he freaks like my brother’s horse, Nitro, or your Nevada, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“He has a completely different personality.” I slid my arm through hers and bumped hips with her. “Twaziem loves you, Robin. He’ll do anything to please you and he’s smart enough to know you don’t like the wild and crazy crap. This is only a phase. Nevada will straighten up soon. He’s just bummed with babysitting.”
“Babysitting?” Tom asked. “What does that mean?”
“He’s tired of carrying unbalanced riders,” I said. “He doesn’t want people yarding on his mouth. He’s smart. He’s figured out if he acts up, only advanced students will ride him.”
Tom shook his head. “And some people think animals are dumb. That sounds pretty intelligent to me.”