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Chapter 22 – Ingrid

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On the first day of horse camp, Ingrid awoke at three in the morning. She tossed and turned for ten minutes then gave up, hopped out of bed, and headed down to the main building for an early morning shower.

She arrived at the corral as the first rays of sunlight whispered through the trees. The horses stirred, glancing at Ingrid in surprise, then unease. So early? What could be going on today?

She rustled around in the tack shack, hauling out the one more folding table she had stashed the night before, setting up paint and yarn and ribbons. The children would arrive at nine, and she wanted everything ready.

At ten to nine, the children blew in like a hurricane, bouncing up and down like little kangaroos. Their grateful and weary parents waved goodbye, looking as if they were about to bolt. Among the children, there appeared to be no shrinking violets in this crowd; no shy wallflowers lurking around the fringe. Eleven girls and two boys ran to the corral fence and climbed on it, screeching in delight. “Horses! Look! They’re so cute! I want that one! No, he’s mine.”

Ingrid leaned down and greeted each child with a smile and a handshake.

Olivia drifted to the corral, nearly engulfed in the wave of children arriving, and observed the whole scene.

Ryder had saddled his horses for the day’s trail ride.

Was it Ingrid’s imagination, or had Ryder made a point of not coming near her when he had to greet his guests? Whatever. She didn’t have time to worry.

“Welcome to horse camp,” Ingrid smiled at the kids. “Come, let’s talk before we get started.” She led the children, who were reluctant to leave the corral fence with the horses so tantalizingly close on the other side, to the pasture near the end of the trail that led from the cookhouse. She grabbed a clipboard with all their names and had them sit in a circle. “I’m Ingrid,” she began. “When I’m not here in Stehekin, I live in Bellevue, and after the summer’s over, I’ll be attending a university in California. I love horses. My horse is still in Bellevue this summer, and her name is Pumpkin. I would like each of you to tell us your name, where you live, and what you like about horses.”

They all began to talk at once in a loud clamor. Ingrid gently quieted the group. “We’ll go one at a time, and the rest of us will listen carefully when someone else is talking. Will you go first?” She indicated to a girl who looked taller and older than the rest. As each child said their name, Ingrid checked their name on the list Olivia had given her. Thirteen kids in all. A manageable number.

When introductions were finished, she explained what the day would hold. “Today, we’re going to get to know the horses, and learn how to behave around them.”

One little munchkin who looked about eight raised an arm frantically. “Will we get to ride a horse today?”

“Not today,” Ingrid smiled, and all the children groaned in disappointment. “Today we get to make friends with the horses. We’ll learn their names, and they’ll learn ours. Here are some important things we’ll learn and practice. First, how to approach a horse. Talk to your horse quietly when you walk up to him or her, and always approach near the horse’s shoulder. While horses have excellent peripheral vision—that means they can see to the sides really well—they also have blind spots both in front of, and directly behind them. Don't walk up to a horse directly in front or behind them. You can really surprise them if they don’t see you. A soothing voice also helps the horse understand that you’re not a threat.”

The children nodded their heads earnestly.

“We don’t duck under a horse’s neck because they can’t see us there, so they might get startled. Another thing we don’t do is wave our arms around by their faces.” She emphasized the point by waving her arms wildly over her head. “Horses don’t have arms and they sometimes get surprised by people who move their arms in front of a horse’s face.”

There were a few giggles. “We never run here at horse camp, whether we’re in the corral or not. Sorry, you runners, you’re going to have to walk for the week.” A few more giggles erupted. “And we’re going to learn more and more every day. It’s going to be fun!”

The children cheered.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Ingrid stood as did all the children.

And so the day went, with slow, quiet instructions as Ingrid tried her best to combine fun with safety. Greta arrived during lunch break, and shortly after lunch break, they handed out ropes and taught them how to braid, telling them they were going to braid the horse’s mane, which brought another round of appropriately quiet cheers. During the kids’ lunch, she and Greta tied thirteen horses to the corral fence. A little step stool sat by each horse, and she demonstrated how to approach the horse from the side, near the shoulder and step up on the stool. She paired each child with a horse and introduced them. One by one, the children climbed on the step stools, carefully petted their horse on the neck, and with help from Ingrid and, thank heavens, Greta, the children braided the manes.

Late in the afternoon, Ryder returned with a party of four. After the guests had left and he had put the tack away and the horses to bed, Ingrid noticed him standing near the corral, eyes fixed on her, smiling with what appeared to be an expression of approval. Her cheeks grew hot, and she redoubled her attention to the child she was helping. Mortification over her silly schoolgirl kiss that alienated him would haunt her, but she couldn’t think about that now. Now she had thirteen kids under her care and there was no room for distraction.

Before she knew it, it was four o’clock and the parents began to saunter in. The first day was done. No one had gotten hurt or sick. No one had cried or resisted. The horses had displayed infinite patience with the little creatures fiddling around with their manes, which was exactly why the Ranch had Norwegian fjord horses. They possessed a charming, gentle disposition, were willing to work, and wanted to please.

Everyone was tired but happy, especially Ingrid. After saying goodbye to each child, who then skipped off with their parents, she worked for two more hours, removing halters from horses, stacking stools and supplies in the tack house, along with all the tack. She brushed each horse down as she thanked them for being so good. She ate dinner at seven, took a shower, and fell into bed, asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

One day down, four to go.