Untamed and Unbroken
"Well this oughta be interesting," Malcolm mumbled as he watched the swarm of people coming from the racing barn to his yearling barn. It was near to bursting with eight of the ten stalls filled. It felt even more so with the attitudes that ran rampant in the place. His job was not an easy job to have at Witch Creek Stable. The rest of them got his perfectly broken horses out on the track to gallop around and deal with their manners. Manners that he, Malcolm Floyd, had instilled in the bunch since they're disgruntled and unhappy weaning. Witch Creek horses, true blue ones, were not kind horses from the get-go. They often bounded with one person and stuck with that one person throughout their entire career. If there was a mismatch, such as Indian Darling and Bella Luna, the perfect match was quickly made before the career suffered even further. Often it was turned right around back in the right direction.
Malcolm had been doing just fine with his six arrogant, angry minded horses. Sun King still nipped, Maximum Impact still tried to cow kick when being saddle, Crooked still played all sorts of tricks. But the other three: Saintly Touch, Refute and Summer Romance were perfect. Perfectly mannerly and ready to take the next step up in their training which was to learn to accept a rider's commands and seat. Malcolm nearly laughed as he patted Ro's neck, admiring her sleekness and classic head. He could not see this particular filly doing anything wrong. Ro had the mindset that only came rarely in the Witch Creek stock. She accepted human nature, allowed anything to be done to her. Malcolm was pleased that Summer Romance was more like her sire than her dam. Ashanti was known to pass on a willful nature as shown by her two sons Ashes to Ashes and Burning Blitz. DW Flamekissed passed on a proper mentality and saneness. He basically could be the cornerstone stallion to Witch Creek's program. Especially, since Ro's brother, Refute demonstrated the same mental attitude and physical strength.
The two bays were alike in many ways. Strong shoulders, strong rear-end, expressive heads and clean-cut legs. Ro's head was more feminine while Refute's more masculine. Refute was slightly shorter than his sister for the moment, but would likely grow to be bigger. He was more muscled even at this yearling stage. And he had a kinder, less cunning eye than Ro. Ro was a flirt. Refute was straightforward. Malcolm loved straightforward, especially in this Year Twelve crop. Malcolm gave the pair of star children a pat and moved on across the stall row.
Malcolm stopped two feet away from the stall, eyeing the horse before him just as the horse eyed him back. Now here was one of the best bred colts in the barn with the pedigree to be any type of monster out there on the track. The second foal of The Devil's Touch stood before him proud and arrogant. His right side turned to look at him with either disgust or suspicion. He did not lunge or pin his ears quite yet, but this made him all the more unpredictable. The coal black colt staring back at him could definitely be any kind of horse. Malcolm knew that this was the horse that Ripley planned to win the Triple Crown with. This powerful, enigmatic animal before him. Black with no markings, a tough face and a body to back up his aggression. Malcolm knew that this colt had the potential to do some serious damage if given the chance. Knew that maybe, just maybe, Saintly Touch would be the horse to give Ripley her final stand as a jockey. Malcolm watched the colt until the Night Stalker son broke eye contact and looked toward the barn entrance. He had to because he was blind in his left eye. Malcolm followed the colt's suspicious gaze, nodded to Ripley who entered with long, purposeful strides with a bubbly blond woman walking beside her.
The woman walked straight up to Malcolm, grinned into his uneasy blue eyes and introduced herself. Hi! My name's Lane Thompson. Used to ride the Florida circuits. My uncle Al used to work for Ripley when she was under Battle Brook. He rode DW Flamekissed in his workouts. Malcolm shot an uneasy look Ripley's way. Yes... he understood all of this. But what was this blonde dervish doing in his barn? And why hadn't this been brought to him in some sort of meeting? Malcolm switched his gaze back to where Lane had been standing only to find her darting off to greet Summer Romance. The bay filly snorted, eyes wide with shock, but did not back away. She was a brave type of filly. She accepted the pats with caution, but seemed to relax when Lane relaxed. Summer Romance, out of Ashanti, by DW Flamekissed. Half-sister to Ashes to Ashes. Really I'm pulling for Brooks and him to get their grade one win. Malcolm shot a helpless grin at her. God the woman was quick.
Ripley held back a laugh. Lane Thompson's going to do some riding with us. Particularly with your younger set seeing as I have no need for her currently in mine or Maggie's group. Lane put a hand on her hip at that and Malcolm decided he liked the witty woman. Well that's good. Because I need a person to help me out with this rambunctious group. The women laughed because currently the only three horses awake and standing were Summer Romance, Refute and Saintly Touch. Ripley sighed. The rest of them should be along soon. Just wondering what your rider assignments are going to be for us Malcolm. Ripley's green eyes shifted to the black colt again. Saint was watching her with an openly curious gaze. Malcolm didn't miss much and nodded inwardly. If Saint was looking at anyone like that than he definitely had made his own pick. He'll be yours Marsh. Seems your interest in him has been returned. Don't screw him up on me. Ripley lifted her brows at the man, but moved no closer to Saintly Touch. All in good time. She hadn't been around the black colt since his hard birth last year where she'd had to pull him out and make a quick escape before motherly love turned into motherly murder.
Now since you sent me this wild card, I have to change some things up, but I'm assuming she'll want to ride two different types of horses to keep them from clashing. I'll have to think, but right now the only ones without set riders are Black Magic and Ro. So maybe you'll get them both Lane. Maybe you won't get either. Lane blinked owlishly at him and he nearly laughed. The woman sure was a spitfire. We'll see, she responded. Gave Ro a last pat and then moved on to Refute who was biting his tongue to draw some sympathy. Now you must be the Refutes of the operation. Out of Finale Slew, by DW Flamekissed. He sure is handsome Ripley. He's got the lines to do something big on the turf. Malcolm's eyes drew together. What did you study our breeding calender or something?
Ripley laughed, patted Malcolm on the back and nodded at Lane who was sticking her tongue out at the man. No... I just happened to tell her. Al and I did manage to stay in contact with each other. Lane rolled her eyes and looked toward the entrance. Maggie, Reese, Justin and Laura walked into the barn, clearly in a heated conversation. Lane's ears deciphered the argument being about baseball being a potentially more exciting sport than racing. She also deciphered that Justin was losing vastly to the three women. Lane cocked a hip, leaned against the stall door. She could learn to love this place, just as her uncle had.
Where's Brooks? Ripley interrupted. Maggie, the older horse manager smiled at Ripley. Oh he's coming. It seems Ashes has been moved to the stud barn because of his blood-lust for Cold Mountain. Clint isn't very happy. Ripley narrowed her cat-green gaze. Lane would have shrunk away if such a look had been aimed her way. It was a look made for burying other people. Ripley... You need to talk to Clint. The sentence came from the exotic caramel-skinned woman by the name of Reese Balling Jones. She currently was two thirds of the way through the Turf Triple Crown with Bella Luna. Only the Belmont Turf Classic remained. Now, she did not look like the excited, pressured jockey. Now she looked irritated. He needs to lose his power-trip attitude. It's getting on everyone's nerves. And you can find another person to manage our studs and broods. You plan all the breedings out anyway. Ripley looked at the woman she'd come to think of as her little sister. Reese was right, but that didn't mean Ripley was going to admit it freely. We'll see. He's still been with us since last year. Benefit of the doubt. Most of the problem has come with Cold Mountain anyway.
Maybe that shows Clint isn't strong enough to deal with our horses, Maggie pointed out. And Cold Mountain isn't nearly as bad as the younger set if what Malcolm says is true. Ripley shrugged, narrowed her gaze when Brooks jogged into the barn looking only minutely frazzled. You can start anytime now Malcolm. Brooks shot Ripley a look. Lane raised an eyebrow. Tension definitely brewed between these two. Laura and Justin sat on tack trunks beside one another and waited rather impatiently for Malcolm to speak. They still had stalls to clean out in the broodmare barn.
Alright... Malcolm began, clearing his throat. He wasn't used to all of the attention being turned on him. We need to get started with the bunch ASAP because they are quickly becoming impatient with all of this hands on nonsense and relatively little action. I want to start getting on them today, leaning over them, rubbing them, making them calm with a rider aboard. That kind of thing. I have everyone assigned to a horse and am pretty content with who I've got matched up with who. Malcolm tapped his clipboard, a nervous habit that Maggie found endearing. Hopefully, the rest of our friends will wake up soon and realize their vacation is finally over. Malcolm shrugged his shoulders, looked down at his clipboard and began:
Maggie you get Call Me Crooked. Ripley's riding Saintly Touch. Brooks you drew poorly and snagged Sun King... Brooks chuckled, Guess that depends on whose opinion you ask. Malcolm smirked and laughed. Reese gets Taboo. Justin has Refute. Laura you're getting Maximillion. And that leaves Black Magic and Summer Romance left to be assigned. I'm going to give you, Lane, Ro for the moment. I'm still getting a feel for Black Magic myself. He's a tough case. I'm going to take him to the round pen first while you guys tack 'em up.
Everyone nodded. Laura rubbed her hands together, cast a look at the stall beside the yearling office. Maximum Impact was going to be a whole lot of fun. The bay colt was up and at his stall door. He was the tallest horse in the barn, long, lean and elegant. He, like Taboo and Black Magic, had come from Silver Stride Stables. Only Max had arrived at the end of last year and Taboo and Black Magic had arrived a few weeks ago. He eyed everything through interested eyes and only showed expression when approached by a human. He was a loner horse, like most of the Year Twelve crop. All of them were pretty independent and interested in themselves rather than each other. It made things easy since there was relatively little herd dynamic and at the same time made it hard because none of them followed basic equine rules.
Malcolm approached the last stall door with confident steps and a laid back kind of style. Ripley and Brooks watched with curious eyes at the Yearling Managers approach. Mal hadn't said much about Black Magic except that he fit right in with the crew. Moments before he reached the stall there was a thump from within and shrill scream. Mal arrived at the stall door just in time to find himself face to face with the burly, angry-eyed Black Magic. The colt threw himself at the stall door, eyes blazing and full of fire and fight. Ripley remained still. Brooks drew in a breath and Lane watched with curiosity. The colt had white markings splitting his face vertically and a beautiful dished nose. His neck was bullish and sloped into a powerful chest and monster shoulders. Mal spoke to the colt with a kind voice and an easy-going body position. Black Magic didn't relax. He snorted loudly through his nostrils, his body was tight like a drum. The colt wasn't angry. Angry was something totally different. Lane thought that this was bravado, pure and simple.
Mal proved it further when he opened the stall door and sent the explosive colt hurtling to the back of his stall. Mal simply stood, hands loose at his sides, watchful and wary. Easy there, big man. Don't know what all the fuss is about. I take you in and out of this stall daily. The colt stood in the corner, ears pinned, but his eyes said there was something else bothering him. Mal moved in swiftly, talking calmly and pulled the rope halter up and over Black Magic's ears. See no fuss about it. The horse let out a huff of breath that said he thought there was plenty to fuss over. Mal lead the colt out of the stall, pulling back just when it seemed that the Warlock horse was going to blow through the opening. Alright Man! Settle on down. The colt huffed, skittered to a stop at the sight of all the humans in his barn. His ears pricked fully forward and he took a half step back. Mal stepped forward with authority, however, not pausing to let Black Magic think. The colt followed uneasily, bouncing forward when he felt pinned between the humans. The moment he stepped outside of the barn, Black Magic twisted his head around on his bull neck and looked back, sighing in relief. Mal patted his shoulder, refocusing the horse.
Well... Ripley laughed. That's some horse. Brooks shook his head. Down right that is. The humans separated on that note. Ripley slipped into Saint's stall to begin grooming and polishing that black diamond coat of his. Lane snagged a hard brush and went to tackle Ro's hide. Maggie smiled as she went to her assigned horse's stall. Here stood Call Me Crooked, third daughter of Royal Assault. The bay filly with the silly facial marking looked more like Maggie's old time mount than any of Bee's other fools. Call Me Crooked was Crooked Fire's second daughter, but not the only Crooked Fire foal in the barn. Ashes to Ashes was four years old now and just on the edge of grade one. He had had the most impressive three year old season jumping from grade five to grade two in one season. Crook had the pedigree to do some serious damage on the turf or the dirt. She was also the quirkiest horse in the bunch. She squealed exuberantly when Maggie entered the stall, hide twitching excitedly when Maggie laid a hand on her hide. Crook shook her head and began to pace, shining body glittering where the sun dipped in through the barn. She was very high energy and easily the skinniest of the yearlings. She was already a hard keeper. Her ribs shown through her coat, but she didn't look too skinny. She looked athletic with long legs, long body and a deep chest. Maggie smiled. Crooky girl. Such a pretty girl. So like your mama. I really loved your mama silly girl. Crook's ears dipped far forward to listen, nostrils flaring in excitement. She obviously enjoyed listening to Maggie talk. Maybe you'll turn out to be like your mama, little girl. Maybe you'll be something totally different though. Different is good. Crook relaxed into the brush, letting out a soft sigh as it cruised over her thin-skin. Maggie smiled, lost in memories of a different time and a different horse.
Reese had no such connections to the filly who was deemed to be her match. Reese leaned her elbows on the stall door, content to just look at Taboo for the moment. She was bred superbly with Everyday Hero and Forbidden Wings as a parental combination. She was perfectly conformed with a beautiful head and sloping body. She had the looks of a filly who would float. Her eyes were actually an odd coloration. Not brown, more of a topaz that one often found on palominos, not bay roan thoroughbreds. She looked like burnished silver, nearly grulla. Her small ears flickered and her eyes drifted open as she dozed. Tabz, as she was called by Malcolm, was an easy horse to look at. Very agreeable when you didn't have your hands on her. Reese did not want to break the peacefulness she saw within the filly at this moment. Taboo's hoof was cocked, her head was low and she seemed not to have a care in the world. Mal had once said that the filly lulled you into peace and then struck at the most inopportune time. Reese opened the stall door slowly, testing the "sleepy" Taboo. The moment the door started creaking, the bay roan's head shot into the air and her ears slammed back into her black mane. Reese let out a soft breath, positive now that Malcolm hadn't been kidding. Her topaz eyes lit up with irritation when Reese fully moved into her space. I won't be crooning any soft nothings to you will I Taboo? You've got the kind of back-off attitude that I can appreciate. The molten filly glared, stretching her neck and turning her head sideways, making it clear that if Reese came any closer that it would be a mistake. Her body was tight as a drum, but unlike Black Magic, Tabz was serious about being aggressive.
Brooks heard the hooves slam against the wall in Taboo's stall, heard Reese shout at her with aggression lacing her voice. Brooks smirked. Reese was the most no-nonsense person in the barn. Malcolm had been smart to choose her for Taboo and just as smart to pick him for Sun King. The colt was definitely more El Sol del Mar than Native Flame. His coloring was a brilliant red thanks to Sunny and his body was very lean and greyhound like. Sun King had the dished face, the broad forehead and slim ears. He had a strong chest, clean legs and sloping body belonging to a true dirt horse. The horse promised speed and stamina. Brooks was banking that the colt would make something of himself early on in his career. Much like Mastermind had. Brooks rubbed all over Sun King's body with the chamois cloth, admiring the muscle just waiting to be developed. King would develop into a stunning animal. Hopefully, his attitude would also improve. The chestnut colt was notorious for a violent temper toward other horses, but he knew better than to challenge his human handlers. King bared his teeth only when Brooks touched the inside of his hind legs or in his girth area. Otherwise, the colt behaved like a perfect gentleman.
Malcolm returned to find everyone tacked up and ready. Shaking his head, Mal reminded himself that these were homegrown jocks. They lived, breathed and dreamed racing. It wasn't their fault that they could groom and tack horses up in less than ten minutes. He looked at Refute who seemed a little shell-shocked as Justin tightened the girth. The DW Flamekissed colt wasn't used to such fast work. Mal patted himself on the back. He'd done this enough that it should be old hat to all of the yearlings. Ripley nodded from her stall. Awesome work Mal. He didn't even flinch. Mal smiled, looked at Saint who was now eyeing Ripley with suspicion. No Saint was not impressed in her anymore. Mal called down the row, How'd he do Brooks? Brooks popped his curly head out of the stall and glared. Oh he did just fine after he tried to savage me openly.
Reese and Maggie snickered. Crook's head rested in Maggie's arms. Taboo's was cranked as high as it could go in order to avoid touching Reese's outstretched hand. Mal hadn't expected anything less. Alright so we'll break into pairs for this next portion. Justin and Laura work together. Lane and I work together. Brooks and Ripley. Reese and Maggie. Start with the easier horse. Refute, Summer Romance, Saintly Touch... and well Call Me Crooked. Just lay over their backs as long as they permit it. Then get off, repeat as many times as it takes until they seem settled. Once settled, see if you can swing your whole leg over his/her back.
Ripley cast an irritated look at Brooks as she headed to Saintly Touch's stall. Their relationship hadn't been the same since she'd turned him down for marriage. And honestly... what had he expected? That she'd fall into his arms thanking him for such an offer. She rolled her cat-green eyes. She wasn't going to accept an offer for such a... how had he put it... a business proposal. She'd been a fool to expect flowers and candles and sweet romantic music from a man in the racing industry. Brooks leaned against the stall wall, waiting for her to enter first, not speaking to her.
Saint paced the stall uneasily under his tack. His tail swung from side to side. He was clearly irritated. Ripley nodded to herself, boosting her moral up. If she could handle Hourglass, a horse who loved to play the bucking bronc, she could sure as heck handle her half-brother. Ripley slipped in, leaving the door open behind her enough so that Brooks could follow through. She took hold of the colt's reins, talking and soothing him, easing his anxiety back down to an acceptable level. Satisfied, the woman handed Brooks the reins, went to the colt's saddled barrel. She eased herself over his back, petting his opposite side, talking quietly, confidently. Like Hourglass, Saintly Touch accepted this without really any issue. He stood, swaying beneath her body weight, unsure how to balance. Brooks petted the colt's face. He's a good boy this one. Different, but good. Ripley nodded but did not say anything. She eased up a little more, noting the uneasiness that came into Saint's eyes. It fell away gradually though as time slipped away. Then without another question in her Refute, Ripley eased her foot into the lengthened stirrup and put her full weight across the cobalt colts back.
And that was it... Brooks patted the colt's shoulder with a wide grin spreading across his face. Saint hadn't budged an inch, not even now as Ripley straddled his back. He stood, uneasy, but not worried. Twisted his satiny neck to get a look at her, but nothing more. Ripley kissed and patted his crest, telling him all sorts of good things. Saint just stood there, not the wild bronc his sister had been by half. Malcolm walked by, smiled. He's a different kind of horse than his sister. Ripley nodded, laughed. That's for sure. She swung down off his back, landed with balance. Saint nickered, eyeing her as she walked to his right side, his seeing side. Such a good guy. She palmed him a mint treat, grinned as he gently took it and munched. Well let's see how Sun King handles this.
Call Me Crooked was not laughing and silly now. She ran her stall as fast as she could with Maggie draped over her back. The dark bay filly squealed, ears pinned, let a buck out, but thankfully missed the stall wall. Her blazed face threatened Reese when she attempted to enter. Maggie waved the woman off, loosening her hold on the lead rope connected to Crooks' halter. The filly stopped dead then, legs strong and straight like a four poster bed. Maggie narrowed her eyes, braced herself and was rewarded with a fierce buck that barely twitched her. Maggie snorted when Crook squealed again, twisting the opposite direction now like a pro-reiner. Try as hard as you want. All that's gonna do is make you tired. The filly continued her circling for about another minute when she quit, huffing like a bratty child. Her nostrils flared in and out, eyes gleamed with such disappointment that Reese almost sympathized. Maggie patted the filly's neck when she simply stood still and took the weight. She knew Malcolm wouldn't have approved and his eyes said so when he came to the stall. Don't even start Malcolm Floyd. I didn't break her. She was just being stubborn and you know. The man held up his hands, eyes narrowed and stepped back to go find someone else.
Maggie slid off the filly's back, patted her and removed the saddle. Crook snaked her head at Maggie, but did nothing else. Maggie palmed her the treat, watched her salivate. See no hard feelings. When the women walked out of the stall they saw Laura leading Justin aboard Refute up and down the barn hall. The colt was quiet, ears-flopped to the side, eyes processing, but not cunning. Justin patted the colt's neck, complimenting his ability. He sure is a good boy. Reese snorted, glared at Malcolm then stalked to Taboo's stall.
Lane looked into the eyes of her bay DW Flamekissed filly and saw the world opening before her. Summer Romance sure looked every bit as beautiful as her mama and every bit as tough as her papa. Something about her spoke to Lane, made her dream. Ro simply stood as Lane vaulted onto her back and laid there for a few moments. The bay weaved a little when she swung to lay parallel with the filly. If Ro wanted to do some damage it would be now. She could flew her muscles, knock Lane off and send her for the hills. But she didn't. Ro flicked her ears, stepped to the stall door and watched as Refute was led up and down the hall. Lane was laughing hysterically when Malcolm rushed to the door, spooking Ro to the back wall. Lane caught her balance, smiled at Malcolm who was glaring at her in earnest. I thought this filly was supposed to be tough.
Malcolm grunted, It seems the only fillies that are tough and incapable of listening are the human ones at this place. Lane shook her head, glared, eased up into a straddling position. Ro lipped Malcolm's hands lovingly, barely acknowledging the person on her back. How about them apples? Malcolm rolled his eyes, handed the lead rope to Lane and opened the stall door. Might as well join them. Malcolm guided the filly out of the stall, watching the way Lane balanced for Ro, admitted to himself that he liked her style. Ro whinnied at Refute who neighed back, blasting Justin's eardrums. Ro jogged/walked to her brother and neatly bowled Laura to his other side without remorse. Come on now, Laura called.
Sun King was not half as excited to have a rider aboard as Summer Romance and Refute. The chestnut colt bucked and bucked, tossing Brooks around like a hacky sack. The Native Flame colt showed that his pension for meanness to other horses could extend to humans if they meant to corral him and make him behave. Ripley danced around the sharp flint hooves, keeping Sun King's forehand firmly attached to the ground. Brooks could handle the bucking, but rearing would slide him right off to the ground and in the midst of King's hooves. Ripley signaled for Brooks to jump up when King grew quieted momentarily. His delicate nostrils flared in and out while he paced the stall with Ripley leading him. Brooks rubbed his belly where the horse had managed to hit him in the belly with his withers. Sun King's eyes rimmed with red as he took in Brooks' disgruntled appearance. The chestnut horse shook his mane out, snorted and stood still long enough for Brooks to ease back onto his back. Then he was off again, bucking and bucking and not letting Brooks lay still for a second. Ripley danced with the yearling until he finally was standing still, shaking with fury, not weakness. Brooks slid off for a moment, hunched over and hacked like he was about to throw up. After catching his breath the man hobbled over to King, slithered onto his back and dealt with the bucking blows once more. Ripley could not help, but admire Malcolm's decision to stick these two together. Neither of them knew when to give up the ghost.
It took another ten minutes and two more bucking fits for both man and colt to wave the surrender flag. Ripley smiled as she led King around with Brooks straddling his back, sweat pouring down his face. Way to go Brookson Wells. Brooks waved, but a light smile touched his mouth. Malcolm shot them the thumbs up as he headed to Taboo's stall. He hadn't expected it to be an easy fight between King and Brooks. Not by a long shot.
Reese gritted her teeth as Taboo shot up in the air, legs pawing at something only she could see. Her silver-black ears were locked back in her mane, her topaz eyes glittered with fear and fury. She was a throwback now to a wild thoroughbred just being broke. Reese hunkered down, brown eyes wincing when the little demon came back to earth. Maggie held on, sent an apologetic look to Reese. Reese ignored the look, thought. This filly did not want any part in this nonsense. She thought it was beneath her. She'd been snapped out of her dreaming state, rapidly and quite conclusively. She was not like Supernatural or Bella Luna. She was something totally different. A piece of the wild not meant to be conquered. With a huff, Reese leaped backward off of the filly. Taboo skittered away until she was able to get a look at Reese. Reese looked at Malcolm, shook her head. I'm not breaking her like this. The rest of them can handle it, but Malcolm she doesn't want to be broke. Malcolm nodded at the filly, noted her keen ears. You've got less mounts than anyone else Reese. Give Jabber over to Lane and start gentling her then. Reese heard Maggie take in a breath as Malcolm forcefully stepped into her territory. Listen Bud. I make the shots when it comes to the older guys. She stared down Malcolm, Malcolm stared back. Maggie put her hands on her hips, gritted her teeth.
Reese rides him in the Spring Cup then she can give him up. She'll get him back the second this filly is cleared to go out on the track. You can't hog my girls forever you know. Reese watched the exchange, uneasy, but willing to accept the offer. She calmed Taboo down with soft words and a gentle hand. Soon the filly was clear of all tack and back in her dreaming state. Reese would never have thought the bucking horse had existed if she hadn't felt it for herself. Fine with me. I'll take some time with her and she'll be better than anyone else. Malcolm shrugged, nodded down the hall. You'll have to speak with Ripley and Saint then. I don't think they'll agree with that statement. Reese stuck her tongue out, picked up a brush and began to groom the sweat marks out of the Everyday Hero filly.
Maggie left quickly to speak with Ripley, but stopped to check on Laura and Justin. Maximum Impact stood, towering and fiercely elegant with Laura draped over his back side. He was tense and not moving. Justin patted his cheek, stroked his neck. The colt didn't respond in the slightest. Maggie shook her head. Scared to a standstill was what Max was. Laura talked to the big horse with a calm voice, stroked his neck, scratched under his mane where he liked to be itched. The towering colt just stood, eyes seeing nothing, lost. Maggie shook her head. The horse was not bucking, but somehow that would have been better than this nervous trance. Laura shook her head, jumped from his back. The moment she'd landed, Max broke his statue posture. The bay colt began to pace, wrinkles gathering above his eyes in worry. He mouthed like a submissive at Laura and Justin, brown eyes asking for assurance. Laura hugged him, pet his warm coat until he let out a relieved sigh. Poor guy. We don't have to get it right the first time.
No you don't. Malcolm's clear, deep voice said from behind Maggie. They'll need this kind of treatment until at least July/August. That's when we'll start riding them. Until then we just need to get them used to the bridle and saddle, the wraps, and the hood. Everything that they experience now will benefit them later on. All of them are miles ahead of what I expected. He turned to everyone, cocked an eyebrow. You can all leave my turf now. Justin snickered and Lane and Brooks let out a laugh. Ripley did not look so amused beside Saint whose nostrils were flaring with nerves from the sudden noise. Reese was still lost in Taboo's stall, caught up in the bay-roan filly. Maggie shrugged, signaled for Laura and Justin to take the tack off Max. Time to get these workouts started already. We've got a week until until Turf Triple Crown time and the second half of the season.
Malcolm had been doing just fine with his six arrogant, angry minded horses. Sun King still nipped, Maximum Impact still tried to cow kick when being saddle, Crooked still played all sorts of tricks. But the other three: Saintly Touch, Refute and Summer Romance were perfect. Perfectly mannerly and ready to take the next step up in their training which was to learn to accept a rider's commands and seat. Malcolm nearly laughed as he patted Ro's neck, admiring her sleekness and classic head. He could not see this particular filly doing anything wrong. Ro had the mindset that only came rarely in the Witch Creek stock. She accepted human nature, allowed anything to be done to her. Malcolm was pleased that Summer Romance was more like her sire than her dam. Ashanti was known to pass on a willful nature as shown by her two sons Ashes to Ashes and Burning Blitz. DW Flamekissed passed on a proper mentality and saneness. He basically could be the cornerstone stallion to Witch Creek's program. Especially, since Ro's brother, Refute demonstrated the same mental attitude and physical strength.
The two bays were alike in many ways. Strong shoulders, strong rear-end, expressive heads and clean-cut legs. Ro's head was more feminine while Refute's more masculine. Refute was slightly shorter than his sister for the moment, but would likely grow to be bigger. He was more muscled even at this yearling stage. And he had a kinder, less cunning eye than Ro. Ro was a flirt. Refute was straightforward. Malcolm loved straightforward, especially in this Year Twelve crop. Malcolm gave the pair of star children a pat and moved on across the stall row.
Malcolm stopped two feet away from the stall, eyeing the horse before him just as the horse eyed him back. Now here was one of the best bred colts in the barn with the pedigree to be any type of monster out there on the track. The second foal of The Devil's Touch stood before him proud and arrogant. His right side turned to look at him with either disgust or suspicion. He did not lunge or pin his ears quite yet, but this made him all the more unpredictable. The coal black colt staring back at him could definitely be any kind of horse. Malcolm knew that this was the horse that Ripley planned to win the Triple Crown with. This powerful, enigmatic animal before him. Black with no markings, a tough face and a body to back up his aggression. Malcolm knew that this colt had the potential to do some serious damage if given the chance. Knew that maybe, just maybe, Saintly Touch would be the horse to give Ripley her final stand as a jockey. Malcolm watched the colt until the Night Stalker son broke eye contact and looked toward the barn entrance. He had to because he was blind in his left eye. Malcolm followed the colt's suspicious gaze, nodded to Ripley who entered with long, purposeful strides with a bubbly blond woman walking beside her.
The woman walked straight up to Malcolm, grinned into his uneasy blue eyes and introduced herself. Hi! My name's Lane Thompson. Used to ride the Florida circuits. My uncle Al used to work for Ripley when she was under Battle Brook. He rode DW Flamekissed in his workouts. Malcolm shot an uneasy look Ripley's way. Yes... he understood all of this. But what was this blonde dervish doing in his barn? And why hadn't this been brought to him in some sort of meeting? Malcolm switched his gaze back to where Lane had been standing only to find her darting off to greet Summer Romance. The bay filly snorted, eyes wide with shock, but did not back away. She was a brave type of filly. She accepted the pats with caution, but seemed to relax when Lane relaxed. Summer Romance, out of Ashanti, by DW Flamekissed. Half-sister to Ashes to Ashes. Really I'm pulling for Brooks and him to get their grade one win. Malcolm shot a helpless grin at her. God the woman was quick.
Ripley held back a laugh. Lane Thompson's going to do some riding with us. Particularly with your younger set seeing as I have no need for her currently in mine or Maggie's group. Lane put a hand on her hip at that and Malcolm decided he liked the witty woman. Well that's good. Because I need a person to help me out with this rambunctious group. The women laughed because currently the only three horses awake and standing were Summer Romance, Refute and Saintly Touch. Ripley sighed. The rest of them should be along soon. Just wondering what your rider assignments are going to be for us Malcolm. Ripley's green eyes shifted to the black colt again. Saint was watching her with an openly curious gaze. Malcolm didn't miss much and nodded inwardly. If Saint was looking at anyone like that than he definitely had made his own pick. He'll be yours Marsh. Seems your interest in him has been returned. Don't screw him up on me. Ripley lifted her brows at the man, but moved no closer to Saintly Touch. All in good time. She hadn't been around the black colt since his hard birth last year where she'd had to pull him out and make a quick escape before motherly love turned into motherly murder.
Now since you sent me this wild card, I have to change some things up, but I'm assuming she'll want to ride two different types of horses to keep them from clashing. I'll have to think, but right now the only ones without set riders are Black Magic and Ro. So maybe you'll get them both Lane. Maybe you won't get either. Lane blinked owlishly at him and he nearly laughed. The woman sure was a spitfire. We'll see, she responded. Gave Ro a last pat and then moved on to Refute who was biting his tongue to draw some sympathy. Now you must be the Refutes of the operation. Out of Finale Slew, by DW Flamekissed. He sure is handsome Ripley. He's got the lines to do something big on the turf. Malcolm's eyes drew together. What did you study our breeding calender or something?
Ripley laughed, patted Malcolm on the back and nodded at Lane who was sticking her tongue out at the man. No... I just happened to tell her. Al and I did manage to stay in contact with each other. Lane rolled her eyes and looked toward the entrance. Maggie, Reese, Justin and Laura walked into the barn, clearly in a heated conversation. Lane's ears deciphered the argument being about baseball being a potentially more exciting sport than racing. She also deciphered that Justin was losing vastly to the three women. Lane cocked a hip, leaned against the stall door. She could learn to love this place, just as her uncle had.
Where's Brooks? Ripley interrupted. Maggie, the older horse manager smiled at Ripley. Oh he's coming. It seems Ashes has been moved to the stud barn because of his blood-lust for Cold Mountain. Clint isn't very happy. Ripley narrowed her cat-green gaze. Lane would have shrunk away if such a look had been aimed her way. It was a look made for burying other people. Ripley... You need to talk to Clint. The sentence came from the exotic caramel-skinned woman by the name of Reese Balling Jones. She currently was two thirds of the way through the Turf Triple Crown with Bella Luna. Only the Belmont Turf Classic remained. Now, she did not look like the excited, pressured jockey. Now she looked irritated. He needs to lose his power-trip attitude. It's getting on everyone's nerves. And you can find another person to manage our studs and broods. You plan all the breedings out anyway. Ripley looked at the woman she'd come to think of as her little sister. Reese was right, but that didn't mean Ripley was going to admit it freely. We'll see. He's still been with us since last year. Benefit of the doubt. Most of the problem has come with Cold Mountain anyway.
Maybe that shows Clint isn't strong enough to deal with our horses, Maggie pointed out. And Cold Mountain isn't nearly as bad as the younger set if what Malcolm says is true. Ripley shrugged, narrowed her gaze when Brooks jogged into the barn looking only minutely frazzled. You can start anytime now Malcolm. Brooks shot Ripley a look. Lane raised an eyebrow. Tension definitely brewed between these two. Laura and Justin sat on tack trunks beside one another and waited rather impatiently for Malcolm to speak. They still had stalls to clean out in the broodmare barn.
Alright... Malcolm began, clearing his throat. He wasn't used to all of the attention being turned on him. We need to get started with the bunch ASAP because they are quickly becoming impatient with all of this hands on nonsense and relatively little action. I want to start getting on them today, leaning over them, rubbing them, making them calm with a rider aboard. That kind of thing. I have everyone assigned to a horse and am pretty content with who I've got matched up with who. Malcolm tapped his clipboard, a nervous habit that Maggie found endearing. Hopefully, the rest of our friends will wake up soon and realize their vacation is finally over. Malcolm shrugged his shoulders, looked down at his clipboard and began:
Maggie you get Call Me Crooked. Ripley's riding Saintly Touch. Brooks you drew poorly and snagged Sun King... Brooks chuckled, Guess that depends on whose opinion you ask. Malcolm smirked and laughed. Reese gets Taboo. Justin has Refute. Laura you're getting Maximillion. And that leaves Black Magic and Summer Romance left to be assigned. I'm going to give you, Lane, Ro for the moment. I'm still getting a feel for Black Magic myself. He's a tough case. I'm going to take him to the round pen first while you guys tack 'em up.
Everyone nodded. Laura rubbed her hands together, cast a look at the stall beside the yearling office. Maximum Impact was going to be a whole lot of fun. The bay colt was up and at his stall door. He was the tallest horse in the barn, long, lean and elegant. He, like Taboo and Black Magic, had come from Silver Stride Stables. Only Max had arrived at the end of last year and Taboo and Black Magic had arrived a few weeks ago. He eyed everything through interested eyes and only showed expression when approached by a human. He was a loner horse, like most of the Year Twelve crop. All of them were pretty independent and interested in themselves rather than each other. It made things easy since there was relatively little herd dynamic and at the same time made it hard because none of them followed basic equine rules.
Malcolm approached the last stall door with confident steps and a laid back kind of style. Ripley and Brooks watched with curious eyes at the Yearling Managers approach. Mal hadn't said much about Black Magic except that he fit right in with the crew. Moments before he reached the stall there was a thump from within and shrill scream. Mal arrived at the stall door just in time to find himself face to face with the burly, angry-eyed Black Magic. The colt threw himself at the stall door, eyes blazing and full of fire and fight. Ripley remained still. Brooks drew in a breath and Lane watched with curiosity. The colt had white markings splitting his face vertically and a beautiful dished nose. His neck was bullish and sloped into a powerful chest and monster shoulders. Mal spoke to the colt with a kind voice and an easy-going body position. Black Magic didn't relax. He snorted loudly through his nostrils, his body was tight like a drum. The colt wasn't angry. Angry was something totally different. Lane thought that this was bravado, pure and simple.
Mal proved it further when he opened the stall door and sent the explosive colt hurtling to the back of his stall. Mal simply stood, hands loose at his sides, watchful and wary. Easy there, big man. Don't know what all the fuss is about. I take you in and out of this stall daily. The colt stood in the corner, ears pinned, but his eyes said there was something else bothering him. Mal moved in swiftly, talking calmly and pulled the rope halter up and over Black Magic's ears. See no fuss about it. The horse let out a huff of breath that said he thought there was plenty to fuss over. Mal lead the colt out of the stall, pulling back just when it seemed that the Warlock horse was going to blow through the opening. Alright Man! Settle on down. The colt huffed, skittered to a stop at the sight of all the humans in his barn. His ears pricked fully forward and he took a half step back. Mal stepped forward with authority, however, not pausing to let Black Magic think. The colt followed uneasily, bouncing forward when he felt pinned between the humans. The moment he stepped outside of the barn, Black Magic twisted his head around on his bull neck and looked back, sighing in relief. Mal patted his shoulder, refocusing the horse.
Well... Ripley laughed. That's some horse. Brooks shook his head. Down right that is. The humans separated on that note. Ripley slipped into Saint's stall to begin grooming and polishing that black diamond coat of his. Lane snagged a hard brush and went to tackle Ro's hide. Maggie smiled as she went to her assigned horse's stall. Here stood Call Me Crooked, third daughter of Royal Assault. The bay filly with the silly facial marking looked more like Maggie's old time mount than any of Bee's other fools. Call Me Crooked was Crooked Fire's second daughter, but not the only Crooked Fire foal in the barn. Ashes to Ashes was four years old now and just on the edge of grade one. He had had the most impressive three year old season jumping from grade five to grade two in one season. Crook had the pedigree to do some serious damage on the turf or the dirt. She was also the quirkiest horse in the bunch. She squealed exuberantly when Maggie entered the stall, hide twitching excitedly when Maggie laid a hand on her hide. Crook shook her head and began to pace, shining body glittering where the sun dipped in through the barn. She was very high energy and easily the skinniest of the yearlings. She was already a hard keeper. Her ribs shown through her coat, but she didn't look too skinny. She looked athletic with long legs, long body and a deep chest. Maggie smiled. Crooky girl. Such a pretty girl. So like your mama. I really loved your mama silly girl. Crook's ears dipped far forward to listen, nostrils flaring in excitement. She obviously enjoyed listening to Maggie talk. Maybe you'll turn out to be like your mama, little girl. Maybe you'll be something totally different though. Different is good. Crook relaxed into the brush, letting out a soft sigh as it cruised over her thin-skin. Maggie smiled, lost in memories of a different time and a different horse.
Reese had no such connections to the filly who was deemed to be her match. Reese leaned her elbows on the stall door, content to just look at Taboo for the moment. She was bred superbly with Everyday Hero and Forbidden Wings as a parental combination. She was perfectly conformed with a beautiful head and sloping body. She had the looks of a filly who would float. Her eyes were actually an odd coloration. Not brown, more of a topaz that one often found on palominos, not bay roan thoroughbreds. She looked like burnished silver, nearly grulla. Her small ears flickered and her eyes drifted open as she dozed. Tabz, as she was called by Malcolm, was an easy horse to look at. Very agreeable when you didn't have your hands on her. Reese did not want to break the peacefulness she saw within the filly at this moment. Taboo's hoof was cocked, her head was low and she seemed not to have a care in the world. Mal had once said that the filly lulled you into peace and then struck at the most inopportune time. Reese opened the stall door slowly, testing the "sleepy" Taboo. The moment the door started creaking, the bay roan's head shot into the air and her ears slammed back into her black mane. Reese let out a soft breath, positive now that Malcolm hadn't been kidding. Her topaz eyes lit up with irritation when Reese fully moved into her space. I won't be crooning any soft nothings to you will I Taboo? You've got the kind of back-off attitude that I can appreciate. The molten filly glared, stretching her neck and turning her head sideways, making it clear that if Reese came any closer that it would be a mistake. Her body was tight as a drum, but unlike Black Magic, Tabz was serious about being aggressive.
Brooks heard the hooves slam against the wall in Taboo's stall, heard Reese shout at her with aggression lacing her voice. Brooks smirked. Reese was the most no-nonsense person in the barn. Malcolm had been smart to choose her for Taboo and just as smart to pick him for Sun King. The colt was definitely more El Sol del Mar than Native Flame. His coloring was a brilliant red thanks to Sunny and his body was very lean and greyhound like. Sun King had the dished face, the broad forehead and slim ears. He had a strong chest, clean legs and sloping body belonging to a true dirt horse. The horse promised speed and stamina. Brooks was banking that the colt would make something of himself early on in his career. Much like Mastermind had. Brooks rubbed all over Sun King's body with the chamois cloth, admiring the muscle just waiting to be developed. King would develop into a stunning animal. Hopefully, his attitude would also improve. The chestnut colt was notorious for a violent temper toward other horses, but he knew better than to challenge his human handlers. King bared his teeth only when Brooks touched the inside of his hind legs or in his girth area. Otherwise, the colt behaved like a perfect gentleman.
Malcolm returned to find everyone tacked up and ready. Shaking his head, Mal reminded himself that these were homegrown jocks. They lived, breathed and dreamed racing. It wasn't their fault that they could groom and tack horses up in less than ten minutes. He looked at Refute who seemed a little shell-shocked as Justin tightened the girth. The DW Flamekissed colt wasn't used to such fast work. Mal patted himself on the back. He'd done this enough that it should be old hat to all of the yearlings. Ripley nodded from her stall. Awesome work Mal. He didn't even flinch. Mal smiled, looked at Saint who was now eyeing Ripley with suspicion. No Saint was not impressed in her anymore. Mal called down the row, How'd he do Brooks? Brooks popped his curly head out of the stall and glared. Oh he did just fine after he tried to savage me openly.
Reese and Maggie snickered. Crook's head rested in Maggie's arms. Taboo's was cranked as high as it could go in order to avoid touching Reese's outstretched hand. Mal hadn't expected anything less. Alright so we'll break into pairs for this next portion. Justin and Laura work together. Lane and I work together. Brooks and Ripley. Reese and Maggie. Start with the easier horse. Refute, Summer Romance, Saintly Touch... and well Call Me Crooked. Just lay over their backs as long as they permit it. Then get off, repeat as many times as it takes until they seem settled. Once settled, see if you can swing your whole leg over his/her back.
Ripley cast an irritated look at Brooks as she headed to Saintly Touch's stall. Their relationship hadn't been the same since she'd turned him down for marriage. And honestly... what had he expected? That she'd fall into his arms thanking him for such an offer. She rolled her cat-green eyes. She wasn't going to accept an offer for such a... how had he put it... a business proposal. She'd been a fool to expect flowers and candles and sweet romantic music from a man in the racing industry. Brooks leaned against the stall wall, waiting for her to enter first, not speaking to her.
Saint paced the stall uneasily under his tack. His tail swung from side to side. He was clearly irritated. Ripley nodded to herself, boosting her moral up. If she could handle Hourglass, a horse who loved to play the bucking bronc, she could sure as heck handle her half-brother. Ripley slipped in, leaving the door open behind her enough so that Brooks could follow through. She took hold of the colt's reins, talking and soothing him, easing his anxiety back down to an acceptable level. Satisfied, the woman handed Brooks the reins, went to the colt's saddled barrel. She eased herself over his back, petting his opposite side, talking quietly, confidently. Like Hourglass, Saintly Touch accepted this without really any issue. He stood, swaying beneath her body weight, unsure how to balance. Brooks petted the colt's face. He's a good boy this one. Different, but good. Ripley nodded but did not say anything. She eased up a little more, noting the uneasiness that came into Saint's eyes. It fell away gradually though as time slipped away. Then without another question in her Refute, Ripley eased her foot into the lengthened stirrup and put her full weight across the cobalt colts back.
And that was it... Brooks patted the colt's shoulder with a wide grin spreading across his face. Saint hadn't budged an inch, not even now as Ripley straddled his back. He stood, uneasy, but not worried. Twisted his satiny neck to get a look at her, but nothing more. Ripley kissed and patted his crest, telling him all sorts of good things. Saint just stood there, not the wild bronc his sister had been by half. Malcolm walked by, smiled. He's a different kind of horse than his sister. Ripley nodded, laughed. That's for sure. She swung down off his back, landed with balance. Saint nickered, eyeing her as she walked to his right side, his seeing side. Such a good guy. She palmed him a mint treat, grinned as he gently took it and munched. Well let's see how Sun King handles this.
Call Me Crooked was not laughing and silly now. She ran her stall as fast as she could with Maggie draped over her back. The dark bay filly squealed, ears pinned, let a buck out, but thankfully missed the stall wall. Her blazed face threatened Reese when she attempted to enter. Maggie waved the woman off, loosening her hold on the lead rope connected to Crooks' halter. The filly stopped dead then, legs strong and straight like a four poster bed. Maggie narrowed her eyes, braced herself and was rewarded with a fierce buck that barely twitched her. Maggie snorted when Crook squealed again, twisting the opposite direction now like a pro-reiner. Try as hard as you want. All that's gonna do is make you tired. The filly continued her circling for about another minute when she quit, huffing like a bratty child. Her nostrils flared in and out, eyes gleamed with such disappointment that Reese almost sympathized. Maggie patted the filly's neck when she simply stood still and took the weight. She knew Malcolm wouldn't have approved and his eyes said so when he came to the stall. Don't even start Malcolm Floyd. I didn't break her. She was just being stubborn and you know. The man held up his hands, eyes narrowed and stepped back to go find someone else.
Maggie slid off the filly's back, patted her and removed the saddle. Crook snaked her head at Maggie, but did nothing else. Maggie palmed her the treat, watched her salivate. See no hard feelings. When the women walked out of the stall they saw Laura leading Justin aboard Refute up and down the barn hall. The colt was quiet, ears-flopped to the side, eyes processing, but not cunning. Justin patted the colt's neck, complimenting his ability. He sure is a good boy. Reese snorted, glared at Malcolm then stalked to Taboo's stall.
Lane looked into the eyes of her bay DW Flamekissed filly and saw the world opening before her. Summer Romance sure looked every bit as beautiful as her mama and every bit as tough as her papa. Something about her spoke to Lane, made her dream. Ro simply stood as Lane vaulted onto her back and laid there for a few moments. The bay weaved a little when she swung to lay parallel with the filly. If Ro wanted to do some damage it would be now. She could flew her muscles, knock Lane off and send her for the hills. But she didn't. Ro flicked her ears, stepped to the stall door and watched as Refute was led up and down the hall. Lane was laughing hysterically when Malcolm rushed to the door, spooking Ro to the back wall. Lane caught her balance, smiled at Malcolm who was glaring at her in earnest. I thought this filly was supposed to be tough.
Malcolm grunted, It seems the only fillies that are tough and incapable of listening are the human ones at this place. Lane shook her head, glared, eased up into a straddling position. Ro lipped Malcolm's hands lovingly, barely acknowledging the person on her back. How about them apples? Malcolm rolled his eyes, handed the lead rope to Lane and opened the stall door. Might as well join them. Malcolm guided the filly out of the stall, watching the way Lane balanced for Ro, admitted to himself that he liked her style. Ro whinnied at Refute who neighed back, blasting Justin's eardrums. Ro jogged/walked to her brother and neatly bowled Laura to his other side without remorse. Come on now, Laura called.
Sun King was not half as excited to have a rider aboard as Summer Romance and Refute. The chestnut colt bucked and bucked, tossing Brooks around like a hacky sack. The Native Flame colt showed that his pension for meanness to other horses could extend to humans if they meant to corral him and make him behave. Ripley danced around the sharp flint hooves, keeping Sun King's forehand firmly attached to the ground. Brooks could handle the bucking, but rearing would slide him right off to the ground and in the midst of King's hooves. Ripley signaled for Brooks to jump up when King grew quieted momentarily. His delicate nostrils flared in and out while he paced the stall with Ripley leading him. Brooks rubbed his belly where the horse had managed to hit him in the belly with his withers. Sun King's eyes rimmed with red as he took in Brooks' disgruntled appearance. The chestnut horse shook his mane out, snorted and stood still long enough for Brooks to ease back onto his back. Then he was off again, bucking and bucking and not letting Brooks lay still for a second. Ripley danced with the yearling until he finally was standing still, shaking with fury, not weakness. Brooks slid off for a moment, hunched over and hacked like he was about to throw up. After catching his breath the man hobbled over to King, slithered onto his back and dealt with the bucking blows once more. Ripley could not help, but admire Malcolm's decision to stick these two together. Neither of them knew when to give up the ghost.
It took another ten minutes and two more bucking fits for both man and colt to wave the surrender flag. Ripley smiled as she led King around with Brooks straddling his back, sweat pouring down his face. Way to go Brookson Wells. Brooks waved, but a light smile touched his mouth. Malcolm shot them the thumbs up as he headed to Taboo's stall. He hadn't expected it to be an easy fight between King and Brooks. Not by a long shot.
Reese gritted her teeth as Taboo shot up in the air, legs pawing at something only she could see. Her silver-black ears were locked back in her mane, her topaz eyes glittered with fear and fury. She was a throwback now to a wild thoroughbred just being broke. Reese hunkered down, brown eyes wincing when the little demon came back to earth. Maggie held on, sent an apologetic look to Reese. Reese ignored the look, thought. This filly did not want any part in this nonsense. She thought it was beneath her. She'd been snapped out of her dreaming state, rapidly and quite conclusively. She was not like Supernatural or Bella Luna. She was something totally different. A piece of the wild not meant to be conquered. With a huff, Reese leaped backward off of the filly. Taboo skittered away until she was able to get a look at Reese. Reese looked at Malcolm, shook her head. I'm not breaking her like this. The rest of them can handle it, but Malcolm she doesn't want to be broke. Malcolm nodded at the filly, noted her keen ears. You've got less mounts than anyone else Reese. Give Jabber over to Lane and start gentling her then. Reese heard Maggie take in a breath as Malcolm forcefully stepped into her territory. Listen Bud. I make the shots when it comes to the older guys. She stared down Malcolm, Malcolm stared back. Maggie put her hands on her hips, gritted her teeth.
Reese rides him in the Spring Cup then she can give him up. She'll get him back the second this filly is cleared to go out on the track. You can't hog my girls forever you know. Reese watched the exchange, uneasy, but willing to accept the offer. She calmed Taboo down with soft words and a gentle hand. Soon the filly was clear of all tack and back in her dreaming state. Reese would never have thought the bucking horse had existed if she hadn't felt it for herself. Fine with me. I'll take some time with her and she'll be better than anyone else. Malcolm shrugged, nodded down the hall. You'll have to speak with Ripley and Saint then. I don't think they'll agree with that statement. Reese stuck her tongue out, picked up a brush and began to groom the sweat marks out of the Everyday Hero filly.
Maggie left quickly to speak with Ripley, but stopped to check on Laura and Justin. Maximum Impact stood, towering and fiercely elegant with Laura draped over his back side. He was tense and not moving. Justin patted his cheek, stroked his neck. The colt didn't respond in the slightest. Maggie shook her head. Scared to a standstill was what Max was. Laura talked to the big horse with a calm voice, stroked his neck, scratched under his mane where he liked to be itched. The towering colt just stood, eyes seeing nothing, lost. Maggie shook her head. The horse was not bucking, but somehow that would have been better than this nervous trance. Laura shook her head, jumped from his back. The moment she'd landed, Max broke his statue posture. The bay colt began to pace, wrinkles gathering above his eyes in worry. He mouthed like a submissive at Laura and Justin, brown eyes asking for assurance. Laura hugged him, pet his warm coat until he let out a relieved sigh. Poor guy. We don't have to get it right the first time.
No you don't. Malcolm's clear, deep voice said from behind Maggie. They'll need this kind of treatment until at least July/August. That's when we'll start riding them. Until then we just need to get them used to the bridle and saddle, the wraps, and the hood. Everything that they experience now will benefit them later on. All of them are miles ahead of what I expected. He turned to everyone, cocked an eyebrow. You can all leave my turf now. Justin snickered and Lane and Brooks let out a laugh. Ripley did not look so amused beside Saint whose nostrils were flaring with nerves from the sudden noise. Reese was still lost in Taboo's stall, caught up in the bay-roan filly. Maggie shrugged, signaled for Laura and Justin to take the tack off Max. Time to get these workouts started already. We've got a week until until Turf Triple Crown time and the second half of the season.