The You I've Never Known

We follow her to the long row of stalls edging the barn. As we stroll, I ask, “So you trained horses in New York, too?”

Oh, yes. I moved there to be with my fiancé. We were both Olympic equestrians and met at a competition.

Love blossomed over dressage.





She’s Human After All


I’d love to know more of the story, but I don’t know her well enough

to ask her to tell it. Shame.

My curiosity is screaming, ASK!

But my logical side wins out.

We walk down the line of stalls,

studying the horses inside them.

Most are Thoroughbreds—tall

and fine-boned, with chiseled

heads and the quick tempers

associated with hot-blood horses.

But a couple of warmbloods

stand out. Though a bit shorter

than their stable mates, they’re

obviously athletes, and strength

is what makes them beautiful.

“What breed are they?”

Hanoverian. I brought the mare’s dam with me from the East Coast and bred her here. The stallion I found in Oregon. He’s amazing, not only handsome, but he has an unparalleled temperament.

We plan on breeding the pair next time the mare comes into heat. These horses practically beg to do dressage, and they’re talented hunters, too.

It is Gabe who asks, Do you show anymore? You, I mean.

No. It’s a time-consuming hobby, and I don’t have a lot of spare time.

The Thoroughbred breeding program is our bread and butter. Hillary showed Niagara, but most of the colts are racetrack-bound. Now Peg does a double take. You like horses, too?

More like I put up with them— and the people I know who like them. He winks at me. Actually, horse lovers tend to be pretty great.

We pass Niagara’s stall and

the mare comes over, as if

she recognizes me and wants

to say hello. Maybe she does, because she sticks her nose over the door

and nickers softly. “Hello to you, too. Sorry. Fresh out of carrots.”

Funny, says Peg. She’s picky about who she relates to. Max said he offered you a job here. Hope you’ll consider taking it. Niagara would appreciate it, and so would I. Hillary won’t be able to ride for quite a while, I’m afraid.





Job Offer Assured


I ask what my duties would be if I came to work at the Triple G.

It would come down to: exercising horses

brushing horses

feeding horses

moving horses

from stall to paddock and back again, no manure shoveling involved.

Plus, if I’m interested, Peg is willing to teach me dressage

teach me to jump

teach me to hunt

teach me cross-country which add up to eventing, something she did as a member of the US Equestrian Team.

I’m not sure I’m equal to all of that, but I kind of want to give it a try.

And that’s what I tell her.





Once Again


It comes down to

convincing Dad to let me work, and allow

me to transport myself.

And, if I can manage that, to finding the time

commitment. Basketball finishes in February, and that will free up my after-school hours.

Meanwhile, it would

just be weekends. Oh, one final question,

“How much could I

expect to get paid?”

A pragmatist. I like that.

I’d have to check in with Max, but I think we could start you at twelve dollars an hour, as long as you’re an able rider. Some of the colts are pretty green.

“Sounds fair. I’ll talk it over with my dad

and let you know

as soon as I can.”





We Wrap It Up


Head back toward the house.

But the rest of her story

is gnawing at me, and I know it won’t let go unless I shake it off, so what the hell. “May I ask a personal question?”

You can always ask. I can’t guarantee I’ll answer it, though.

“What happened with your

fiancé? I mean, when you

decided to move out west,

why didn’t he come, too?”

She considers her reply,

and her sigh is heavyweight.

He and I had planned our future, start to finish, and for him that meant eventing, and New York, not babysitting in California. In his eyes, I chose family over him, and I guess that was accurate enough, though I didn’t feel I had a choice, and begged him to come along. I learned love can’t always weather the circumstances of our lives.





Such Loyalty


To family is humbling,

and also completely alien.

The only family I own

is Dad, and though of course he loves me, I’m sure of that, sometimes he makes me feel like a burden

he’d rather not shoulder.

Yes, he stepped up when my mother deserted us, but should he ever actually fall in love again, would he put me first? Could he love Zelda?

I don’t know, and thinking back over the years, it’s odd he hooked up with so many women, but never connected on a deep emotional level with even one. Is my father really capable of falling in love?





Maya


For Casey


Ellen Hopkins's books