Ten Year Grudge

Chapter 2

After Leah’s phone call I tried to close my eyes and sleep until the alarm was suppose to wake me. But for some reason, sleep alluded me.
I got up and stumbled into the kitchen where I pushed the button to brew the coffee. The machine made a clunking thunking noise, probably in shock of having to go into use so early in the morning. I shuffled in towards the bathroom for my morning grooming ritual-if you could call running a brush through my hair and throwing it into a pony tail grooming. I didn’t bother with a shower since I’d be getting dirty in a matter of minuets anyway. I ran a brush through my shoulder-length blonde hair all of 5 times and tied it high off my neck. I brushed my teeth with as much vigor as I could muster this early in the morning. The mouthwash helped open my eyes a centimeter and the cold water on my face another half inch. There was still no way I was functioning on no caffeine.
I looked at myself in the mirror to see the results. I had a decent face, maybe a little too round with eyes that took up the center of my face and still a left over freckle here and there. But the real fault on my face was the thin white scar that stretched from my eye, slanted down my check to the edge of my mouth.
Two years ago, I decided I needed a new stallion to keep watch over my small herd of mustang mares on the two-hundred acre range I'd bought next to my property. I'd been keeping Tribute out with them, but neither of us were happy with the arrangement. Tribute had become too happy with his new life as a show pony, and I missed seeing the horse every day.
So I’d gone up to Wyoming to find a stallion in a local round up. I’d been drawn to beautiful buckskin stallion with a regal headset and intelligent eyes. He’d been six at the time, young enough to keep up with a heard and still able to be domesticated. But someone had already spoken for the horse.
Other than the buckskin and one older stallion that they were keeping with the head, there had only been one other stud colt: a three-year-old black with fiery eyes and a nasty temper.
When I’d gone into the ring, to get a closer look at the horse, it had taken three men to rope the horse and two more to get him standing still.
Some mustangs were too wild to be tamed, and loco as the devil. As I watched the colt, I saw he wasn’t. He was clever. Crazy horses a lot of the time ran right into the ropes trying to escape. The black neatly dodged every rope for over a half an hour before they captured him.
And I’d made the worst mistake I’d ever made. I’d walked right up to the colt. He’d looked me right in the eye and reared, striking out and snapping one of the ropes. He’d just barely grazed my cheek, but it had scared all the same. I liked to think it was a reminder to never get that close to a wild mustang.
Even though the colt proved to be high-spirited, I’d brought him home with me. I was never able to ride him, as I didn’t want to break that spirit of his. The colt, whom I’d named Trial, was now five years old and we’d reached an understanding: I fed him and he’d wouldn’t act up.
As soon as I heard the timer beep, I was off to the kitchen again where my three-month-old lab Border collie mix was waiting. "Nice of you to join me," I said as when I'd left the bedroom she'd still been sprawled at the foot of the bed. My old dog had died about four months ago, and although I mourned his death, I always had to have a dog in my life to take the edge off the loneliness, especially now that Drake was gone.
Good riddance, I tried to tell myself without much conviction. I’d always blamed myself in times like this. What had I done wrong? What could I have done?
I shook off the depressive funk I felt coming on. I'd been off antidepressants since I'd graduated college and for the most part I functioned perfectly well without them. Most of the time I could feel it coming on and latched on to some other emotion, most of the time it was determination that bordered on bull-headed.
I returned to my room and threw on a t-shirt that had once been white and a pair of comfortably worn blue jeans. I let the puppy, Delia, out the back door into my fenced-in yard and watched her tear around in the grass, chasing shadows.
She needed a playmate, I decided. I’d always had more than one dog in my life, except when I had Rex. But by the time I moved him here he’d been in pretty bad shape and I hadn’t wanted to stress him out by getting another dog.
I’d see about visiting the shelter later.
I snuck out of the gate as Delia chased something or other around the perimeter of the fence and headed down to the barn.
The late August heat hadn’t come yet and the morning was reasonably cool with fog hanging in the pastures.
In one of the top fields, a small band of mustang colts were already kicking up their heels before the heat of the day caused them to be limited to the shade. In the next paddock over, a group of fillies groomed each other.
I paused to watch them. A lot of them were Trial's offspring that I would train and sell off or train at various expos. There were three of Tribute's offspring: two fillies and a colt. I had a strict limit on his breeding. I kept most of them for myself or sold them once they had solid training on them. As of now all of them were halter broken and that was about it.
I watched them for a few more moments before going down to the barn. There was a small paddock that surrounded the barn and a gate that led off to a field where some of the horses were turned out at night. There was another field behind the barn where any of the horses I had in for training were turned out. I gave a sharp wistle as I closed the gate to the paddock behind me and made my way into the barn. I heard the pounding of hooves as I opened the barn and turned on the lights and fans. There were seven stalls on either side of the barn. One side of horses belonged to me, the other side were mainly boarders in for training. I made my way into the feed room as my INSERT NUMBER horses came trotting into the barn. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they found their way to their own stalls.
I brought their feed buckets out and started at the end of the barn. The first horse was a chestnut mustang mare named Celia that was carrying one of Tribute's foals. She was a mare with a sharp mind and a great personality and was a great riding horse when I wasn't using her as a broodmare. I put a chain across her door as I moved on.
The next horse was mulling around outside her stall but followed me and the food inside. She was one of Tribute’s foals that I had kept. The little filly was black like her dad with a blaze and two socks. She was beautiful, and too smart for her own damn good. The mare had been a bottle baby because he mother, a first-time broodmare, hadn't accepted her and wouldn't let her nurse. I’d called the filly Pippa, my first mistake. Normally I didn’t name foals because I would get attached too easily. But it had just kind of slipped out and I’d started calling her Pippa. She’d been one of the fillies that year I was supposed to take to a show and break. At some of the shows, I would sell the horse I’d broken at the end to the highest bidder and if I had two, then I would raffle one off. Pippa was supposed to be the raffle horse that year. After I’d collected all the money and everyone had his or her tickets, I’d changed my mind and had had to find another horse to raffle. I’d ended up canceling the sale of the other colt and raffling him off.
“Should have gotten rid of you while I had a chance,” I teased, rubbing Pippa's neck as she ate. The filly simply shook her head and continued munching. I slid the filly's door shut; a chain wouldn't deter her from wandering around.
The next horse was one of my competition horses. Even though my main training was focused around the wild horses, I had never lost that competitive spirit I’d had when I was younger. The gelding I was standing before now was a clumsy looking black warmblood. His name was Excalibur, whom I called Claimer. Most of my horses only got a little bit of grain and were fed a mainly hay and grass diet, but Claimer got a sizable amount of grain to keep his weight up. He stuck his nose in ground feeder as soon as I entered the stall and followed it as I put it on the ground.
Next to Claimer was one of my other non-mustangs. My quarter horse gelding Bayou was moody at best, but he was one of the best Polocross horses I’d ever known and I kept him around for that reason. He laid his ears back when he saw me as if to say "took you long enough." Once I'd fed him he paid me no mind.
My next mare was another of the lucky ones carrying Tribute’s foals. Becca’s temperament matched Bayou’s. I’d raised the mare myself and had never been able to get that streak of wild out of her. She was fiercely protective of what was hers, which made her an amazing mom. She was also the only horse Tribute allowed to boss him around which in my book earned her the title of ‘Boss Mare’. Her response to me entering the stall was nearly identical to Bayou.
The next horse was the last of the non-mustangs. Talegha was an old show horse, one that I had ridden and competed in college. When the school had retired him, I had immediately taken him in. He had taught me a ton and now enjoyed his retirement and only gave the occasional pony ride. The old horse was as gentle as a lamb and the friendliest I’d ever met. When Leah brought her twin girls down, the gentle black horse would be the one I put them on.
Finally, in the last stall, was Tribute.
He was tall for a mustang, standing nearly sixteen hands with no markings to break the black of his coat.
“Pretty boy,” I murmured, stroking his jaw. Unlike a lot of other horses, Tribute didn't immediately dive for the grain bucket. He only got a handful of flax seeds to help his coat shine and I added a pepermint to help with the flavor. He leaned in to my stroking hand and waited patiently for me to put his grain on the ground.
I collected everyone's ground feeders and let several of the horses back out. I had my horses on turn out as much as possible. Only Tribute, Bayou and Claimer remained in.
After the other horses had moseyed back down outside to get some grass before the heat of the day, I wandered back into the tack room and grabbed Tribute's bittless bridle.
“Let’s go up and work a while shall we?” I asked Tribute as I slipped under the chain across his stall and adjusted the harness over his nose.
I walked up to the ring, letting the stallion follow as he always did. He stopped and nibbled a few bushes but when he realized I was still walking, he picked up his pace and bumped me with his nose as he came up from behind.
I absently patted his velvety muzzle as I puzzled over Leah’s phone call. Why in hell would she call here when she knew I resented the son of a bitch? Before Leah had realized how much I hated Ace, she’d teased us about our similar ages, Ace being only a year older than me. She’d tried her hand at matchmaking when I was about eighteen and failed. When I’d realized what she’d been doing I’d chewed her out good and she’d never tried to set me up again.
Thank God for that. But then again the only long-term relationship I’d had had been with Drake and look where that had ended up. The little jerk-off had mooched off me for a few months while seeing his other girlfriend. I don’t know why I expected anything else. Look what my Dad had done.
I hadn’t trusted men for ten years, the one exception being my uncle Jack who’d taken all three of us under his wing. He’d been there for everything my father hadn’t. He’d taken me to and from work on countless occasions, taken me fishing and crabbing on my days off, he’d been to every one of my birthday parties and every other special event in my life. My pictures were right up there with his sons' and grandchildren’s.
I don’t know why I’d trusted Drake. Maybe because I was feeling down because Leah had just announced her second pregnancy. I knew I’d never have a family of my own because there was no way in hell I was getting married. No, I corrected, I’d always have my horses as the best family in the world. So Drake had snagged me in a tight spot. It just proved to me that I couldn’t trust my own judgment.
When we entered the arena, Tribute trotted into the ring, swinging his elegant head from side to side and kicking up his heels like he would at the beginning of a demonstration.
“Show off,” I called to him.
Tribute stopped to look at me. I latched the gate and made my way to the center of the ring, the stallion’s eyes following me the whole time. When I reached my spot, I turned to him and threw my hands in the air.
Tribute obediently threw up his head and went up on his back legs, pawing the air and flicking his head.
“Good boy,” I called as he came down and flicked my wrist. The black horse’s head bobbed up and down in time with my hand. “Good,” I repeated. I made a circle in the air with my arm and Tribute turned in a circle and looked at me again. I made a half-circle with my arm and Tribute turned so his rump faced me and looked back at me again.
“Stand boy,” I said just loud enough for him to hear. The horse turned his head and waited. I took off towards him and a moment before I jumped; I called, “up!”
The second I landed on the stallion's back, he reared again, yet not big enough to unseat me. “Wonderful,” I said, rubbing his neck vigorously. “Come here,” I said, patting my knee.
Tribute turned his massive head towards me the best he could and I slipped the bridle from his nose. I urged him to the fence to set the bridle on the gate, and then wheeled him again.
As we worked our way to the end of the ring, I heard a car pull up. Vic was early. But I trusted that my youngest sister would know to start bringing in the boarded horses and feeding them.
Victoria came and helped me in the mornings and at night. She helped feed, muck and ride when I wasn’t able to. She was also a freshman at the State College.
I didn’t bother to holler instructions or even turn to say hello. When I was in the ring, I thought it was only fair to give all my attention to the horse and I rarely noticed anything outside the ring.
I leaned back a little and squeezed with my knees, causing Tribute to come to a halt. I shifted my weight to the left and squeezed with my right leg to make the horse sidestep into the middle of the ring. I took hold of his mane, put my right leg to his loin, my left to his shoulder, and pulled his mane to the left. We swung around to face the front of the arena and I praised him.
I led him into a series of sidesteps and other dressage movements before asking him to back up and do it all over again.
“Whoa,” I called in the middle of a Piaf and tapping his left foreleg. Tribute lifted the leg. I let him set it down and repeated the exercise with all four legs until we were moving forward with every leg suspended in mid-air for a moment before it touched the ground.
When we reached the middle of the ring, I halted him again and tapped his left foreleg again, but this time kept tapping it, making it appear that he was waving.
“Good boy!” I rewarded, leaning over his neck to rub him everywhere. Tribute bobbed his head and I pulled a Snickers bar out of my pocket.
Tribute pawed the ground, searching for more candy. I shook my head and smiled. I tapped his leg lower down and shifted all my weight to his shoulder. The big horse went down on one knee and I swung my right leg over his neck and dismounted with a flourish.
I was bowing to an imaginary audience when I heard clapping coming from the front of the arena. I whipped around, my checks heating with embarrassment. Standing by the fence was six-foot of dark haired, dark eyed hombre. Ace.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded.
Ace flashed me his pearly white teeth. “Enjoying a free show by the great ‘Mustang Tamer’.”
I felt my checks get hotter. “Well show’s over. Goodbye,” I said, walking towards the opposite gate and hearing Tribute follow me.
“Hey wait,” I heard him scrambling to get his tall frame over the fence and catch up with me. Before I knew it, his large arm was slung around my shoulders and he was hugging me close. “Did I tell you how good you looked on that horse novia? Sexy as hell for one thing and too beautiful to be real, riding through the mist like that.”
“There wasn’t any mist in the ring.”
“Hmm, maybe it was just the lust clouding my eyes.”
I glared at him and pushed him off. “Cut the crap. Leah already called me. And I’ll tell you what I said to her: there is no way in hell I would allow you near any of my horses.”
“You’re allowing me to be around one right now.”
I stopped and flipped to face him. “Not anymore, get off my property before I call the police.”
“Aw now that hurts. We’re family.”
“You see it as family, I see it as an unfortunate arrangement that’s like a boil on my ass.”
“Now your Padre wouldn’t be happy to hear you say that.”
“Of course he won’t. And you act like I care.”
“Come on Niki you know I’m good around horses. Remember when I came with Mama and your Papa last year and your prize filly had gotten out. I had the little chica rounded up faster than you would have.”
I hated remembering that day over a year ago when dear old Dad and his wife had showed up on my doorstep for no reason at all. I’d been chasing Pippa, who had once again made it out of her stall; terrified that she’d make her way to the road and get hit.
“You had a candy wrapper in your pocket and she like the sound,” I hissed through my teeth.
“Maybe. Plus,” he added, not at all joking now. “I really need this job. Mama is driving me crazy. Leah said you have an apartment in the barn…”
I stopped walking to get nose-to-nose with him. “Read my lips. No…fucking…way.”
All the pleading and teasing went out of Ace’s eyes. “You know I could sue you for racial discrimination. We know that’s why you won’t hire me.”
“No. I won’t hire you because I hate your guts. Take that back…I hate your whole family’s guts.”
“So you’re not letting me get a job because of it? Sounds like I have a good case already. No reason other than hating my family.”
I didn’t let him see that I was practically shaking inside. I hated confrontations and a court case would hurt my reputation and the farm’s. Ace, I had to admit, was a good worker. Good enough to find work on some other farm.
“Why don’t you go up the road to that boarding stable? They pay a lot better than I do.”
“Yeah but they don’t provide living quarters.”
“I can’t right now. The apartment hasn’t been used in years and I don’t know what could be in there.”
“Then I can live with you at the main house just until we get the apartment fixed.”
“No. I’m not having you in my house.”
“I’ll live in the basement. I know you have a room down there.”
“It’ll take a lot of time and money to fix that apartment.”
“I’ll do it myself for a few hours each day. And I’ll pay for the materials out of my check.”
I glared at him.
“You’re out of excuses novia. I know you wouldn’t be happy if I had the lawsuit paperwork started.”
“That’s blackmail,” I hissed, my vision tinged with red.
“You call it what you want. I call it an incentive.”
“I’ll need your references,” I said, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get them together for a few days.
But again Ace surprised me when he pulled what appeared to be half a dozen pages from his pocket and handed them to me. “I had a feeling you would ask for them.”
I scanned the pages, recognizing some of the names.
“I don’t have time to read them right now. I have to get all the horses fed and exercised.”
“If you would take a second to read them, I could help you too.”
“I’d have to draw up a contract for you to work for me. It’s a rule.”
“One that you made for yourself?”
“Yes. So I know how much I’m paying you and how long I’d have to put up with you.”
“Look Nik. I’m desperate. I really don’t want to take this issue to court.”
“That sucks. And neither do I.”
“I would do it to.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second. But I think Leah could talk you out of it. You always did have a soft spot for her,” I teased even though I’d never been happy about it. I knew that Ace had had a crush on Leah since he’d come to the U.S. That had been just another strike against him. I’d kept Leah away from him and the rest of his family as much as I could. I’d been relieved when her and her husband Tommy had started dating. Tommy was one of the best guys I knew and was fiercely possessive.
“I don’t think so,” he responded. He pulled a few more papers from his other pocket. “Because here are the papers.”
I stopped dead and starred at them, snatched them from his hands. I ran my eyes over them. Sure enough, he was going to sue me because I wouldn’t hire him because he was a damn Mexican. I could fight this, I thought urgently. I could pull up the budget records…that would show I had more enough in the budget for another hand. I could simply say I wasn’t hiring…but truth be told I’d been looking for another groom, but a female one. I could tell the judges I was looking for a woman for the position…then he would sue me for sex discrimination. Damn him.
I glared at him. “I hope you like working in the hot sun all day."