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Another Move
Page 2
 Katy sighed forlornly and trudged into the main barn, which housed twenty lesson
horses and two boarders. Countess, a six-year-old bay Arabian mare with a thin
stripe on her face, poked her head over the latched lower half of the Dutch door
at the sound of the noise and whinnied when she saw Katy, who was her regular
rider. Perking up already, Katy picked up her pace to the stall and gave the
mare a quick pat and a kiss.
Now that she wasn't in such a sour mood, she was
anxious to get out into the ring. She quickly haltered and tied the horse in the
silent, deserted aisle. She stormed into the tack room, still somewhat upset at
the lingering memories of her angry words in her journal. Trying to put her
thoughts on hold, she forced a smile and picked up the English saddle and
matching bridle that was assigned to Countess. She hadn't realized how irritated
she was until she had put her feelings into writing.
Carefully setting
the saddle down on its horn, Katy lifted the saddle pad over Countess's back.
She covered the blanket with a white saddle pad, then set the saddle on top and
drew the girth up underneath. She had tightened it as far as it would go before
she remembered the breastcollar. After putting it in place she hurriedly pulled
the girth back up to the saddle flap and tightened it for the second time. Next
she untangled the bridle, which she had found on the floor where one of the
other girls had thrown it to spite her.
Experienced as she
was, Katy had a bit of trouble getting the obstinate mare to accept the bit. The
mare had not been in training for very long, and since Katy was the most
experienced rider of the girls at the stable, she was chosen to ride the mare.
Her instructor literally had no time to ride or train the mare, so the tedious
job had fallen heavily on Katy's shoulders. She was all too happy to accept,
hoping she could drown out some of her problems in the delightful pastime.
Katy looped the
reins over the mare's neck and loosened the halter. She let the mare stand while
she hurried to the opposite wall to get her helmet and gloves. She grabbed her
crop and zipped up her chaps. After making a final check over her tack, she
pulled the reins back over the horse's head and held them in a confident hand.
She hastily led Countess to the large gate at the side of the indoor riding
arena. Katy opened the gate with one hand while keeping an eye on the horse she
was controlling so that in case the mare bolted, she would still have ultimate
control.
In the arena,
three other girls were already mounted and walking around the dirty ring. All
three of them turned to look at her, wondering who dared to show up late. They
had all tasted Wanda's wrath before and pitied the person on the receiving end
of the lecture. 'Nice of you to join us for today's lesson, Katy.' The sarcastic
voice of her riding teacher rang across the ring.
Katy started but
was grateful that that was all the confrontation came to. She turned to look at
her riding instructor. 'Sorry, Wanda. It's my fault I'm late.' She studied her
riding teacher's profile, committing it to memory. The woman was shorter than
Katy and had short black hair that curled around her face in soft waves. She had
a hat jammed on her head backwards, giving her the classic tomboy look. Her
t-shirt and jeans were old and dirty but fit well and had long since conformed
to the curves of her body.
After checking the
girth and tightening it another two notches, Katy mounted with practiced ease,
settled into the saddle, and nudged Countess with her heels to make the mare
walk. She concentrated on sinking her weight into her heels and straightening
her back and shoulders. She carried her hands low, in front of the saddle, just
at the right level. After the girls had changed direction on the diagonal, Wanda
gave the order for a slow sitting trot. Katy waited until Countess's back left
leg lifted off the ground, then signaled for the trot. This way the mare could
automatically extend her leg and go right into the trot. She executed the move
as soon as Katy asked, moving unhesitantly into the faster gait.
'Good, Katy! That
was excellent.' After another several seconds of observation, Wanda turned to
Diane, a fifteen-year-old girl who was mounted on Rocket. The dumpy little black
pony that she owned was plodding along, barely giving his rider enough gait to
post to. 'Push him harder, Diane! You're letting him get away with too much.
Make him extend his trot, and I said sitting trot, not posting!'
'But this stupid
pony is so hard to sit that I can't help posting!' complained Diane loudly.
'Deal with it!'
Wanda replied, entirely unsympathetic. She held no remorse for riders who said
they couldn't do something. She had ridden every horse in the barn and asked
nothing of the girls that she herself could not do.
Diane emitted a
loud, disgusted sigh and thumped the poor little Welsh pony in the ribs so hard
that he grunted and threw his head up in pain. He half reared and came down at a
fast trot, nearly sending his rider out of the saddle. Fortunately for Diane,
Wanda was looking the other way.
This time she was
watching Merry, a thin girl with long blond hair. She was tall for thirteen, and
she mounted on one of the best horses in the barn, Xenophan. The horse was a red
dun Thoroughbred and only nine years old, so whoever rode him was privileged. He
was sometimes difficult to manage and it took a most experienced rider to handle
him correctly.
Katy had ridden
Xenophan and found him very pleasant to ride, although he could be a handful for
a more inexperienced rider. Katy was riding the best, although the most erratic,
horse in the barn. Countess had not had a lot of training, but with Katy as her
rider she was coming along splendidly. She had wonderful gaits and a beautifully
smooth extended trot, and she was a naturally graceful horse, thanks to her
breed. The mare had already won a lot of show ribbons and continued to improve.
Another student,
Jane Fewther, was a wiry girl with straight black hair that hung to her
shoulders. She was riding her own mount, a horse named Whisper. This was an
eleven-year-old chestnut Anglo-Arab mare that went well for Jane, who was very
shy. Jane had an olive complexion, and her hazel eyes slanted toward her nose.
She was very quiet and seldom spoke. She seemed to love her horse, though, and
lavished it with attention. Jane had only been riding for about a year and a
half, but she was already nearly as skilled as Merry and Diane.
Jane was sitting
quietly on Whisper when all of a sudden from outside the thin walls a horrible
noise was heard. It sounded like a dog-and-cat fight, but it sounded three times
as loud as the usual sort of fight.
Whisper snorted
and bolted away from the wall. She skittered sideways, and, looking at the wall,
didn't notice the jump on her other side. She slammed into it and toppled the
jump. Whisper nearly lost her balance when she went to her knees, but somehow
managed to stumble-step her way back to her feet, where she began a bucking
tirade. Jane sat calmly, letting her body move with the mare's. After a few
traumatic moments the horse was brought under control once again.
Wanda hurried over
to her student's side. 'Jane, are you all right? That was quite an episode
there.'
The tall girl
smiled and nodded. 'I'm fine. She normally doesn't scare that easily. Although I
can't really blame her, considering the level of those screeches.'
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