It was time to have a woman to woman chat. Sam had hefted the bucket of grains, and poured it into the corner feeder hours ago, and it had not been touched while she was getting ready for school or even while she was out with Ace. "He's not coming back."
The horse to whom she spoke looked at Sam as if to say, "Whatever." Sam sighed when Witch didn't even care to look at her.
"I guess I'll turn you out now." Sam pulled aside the stall door. The dark horse moved surely, ignoring Sam as she made her way to the connected pasture. "Witch." Sam pleaded, "Come on."
Sam sighed and opened the gate to the pasture. Witch moved towards the water trough, and Sam said, "So you're admitting you're hungry, now?"
Witch snorted, as if to say, "You idiot, I am clearly drinking. Why was I left here with you, you foolish girl? It is not my fault you screw everything up. You are inept, at best. "
Sam smiled, "You're drinking. Right. Well, I'm going to school. I bet you'd like school. You'd be just like Rachel used to be, all cool and confident. She had great hair. You'd be cooler if you ate though."
Witch moved away, with a toss of her mane. Sam laughed, "You're right. You couldn't possibly be cooler if you tried. And yes, your hair is nicer." Witch's vanity was satisfied, it seemed, for she loped away from Sam in the huge pasture. Her gait displayed a confidence that Sam did not feel.
Sam's shoulders slumped, and rubbed Ace's nose, who came up to her seeking a treat after his morning ride, "He was wrong to trust me with her. Can you get through to her, Ace?" His eager eyes promised that he would try. Sam knew it was no use. Witch would eat when she cared to, and no amount of fretting would change it. It had been weeks now, and the proud horse still missed Jake.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Sam raced to the barn every day after school. She was determined to see what, if anything, Witch had eaten. Dad said not to worry, that Witch was okay, that she was adjusting and doing better daily. Dallas said it was normal to miss Jake, though Sam couldn't figure out why he had told her that like she needed to know it, too. Sam ditched her backpack on the porch without going inside, and was glad that she'd worn boots to school. She hopped the fence into the pasture, and laughed as Ace demanded attention. "You silly cowpony, I love you too. How was your mission today?"
A hoof drawn along the grasses told her all she needed to know. "Ah, well. We can't have everything, can we?" Sam knew she had to march through the pasture to find Witch. Sam knew what she needed to do. She had been practicing for months, even before Jake had left for college.
Sam pursed her lips, and blew. Nothing came out, not even a weak trill. How did Jake do it? He simply licked his lips, more often than not, and paused. After a second, he'd whistle, and Witch would come like fire was nipping her heels. Sam tried again. Ace didn't even look up from where he was lazily pulling up grass, and Blue seemed to be laughing. She shot him a look, "Yeah, laugh it up." Still, her voice was light. She was going to get this.
Sam blew out a breath, watching as a curl bounced in reaction. Step one, Forester, is to pucker your lips. Just as easily, she had her tongue curled. Nothing came out but a hiss, no matter how much air she put into it. Sam was frustrated. This had been so much easier in the bathroom, when Ace wasn't staring at her from yards away, as though he couldn't believe her antics.
She tried again, relaxing her tongue, teeth, and jaw. She nearly cried with relief and lightheadedness when it worked. She was whistling, or she had. She was doing it, it was no longer something she practiced in the bathroom. Now that she had the basics down, after trying and trying, she knew that she needed to do the right tones.
It was harder than it seemed. She finally got it, after two tries. It was a weak attempt, but she was willing to make a fool of herself to help Witch. With her reasoning in mind, Sam used her fingers this time, to create two shrill blasts. She heard hoofbeats. Witch crested over the small rise in the pasture, and halted as she neared the fence-line. Her amber eyes scanned the pasture. Sam called out, "Witchy!"
Her eyes were angry. Sam thought she read betrayal in the dark depths. Sam apologized, "I know you don't like the nickname. I'm sorry. I whistled for you. See?" Sam demonstrated, softly. Blue and Witch shared a glance, obviously making fun of her skills. Well, she had done it once well enough to make Witch come, even though nobody else even looked up.
Witch spun around, clearly intending to walk away. Sam tried to pet her, "I thought you might want to go for a ride..." The proud horse's response was as clear as day. She brushed off the gesture, and left.
Sam knew the whistling was key, because something shifted in their relationship after that. No longer was Witch ignoring her. She was now the enemy, or at least it felt that way, but at least Witch was engaging with her. She tried again, the next day. Witch did not come. Sam had to go and fetch her, call upon the manners Jake had taught the horse to tack her up and set out.
One day, two weeks later, Sam forgot to check if Witch had inhaled, and so she landed in the dirt not two seconds after mounting up. Sam's eyes stung as a cloud of dirt met her smarting bottom. "That was my fault, wasn't it?"
Witch looked at her, and Sam felt the words the horse could not speak, "It certainly wasn't mine. You are more foolish than I thought, if you think you are a match for me, little girl."
Sam resaddled the horse. Witch did not try to unseat Sam again for her point had been well and truly made.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Finally, three weeks later, Sam could take no more. Another ride full of indifference hurt like a thousand knives. Witch turned away. She refused the treat Sam offered with a disdainful sniff. Every bit of progress Sam thought she had made felt as though it had been ripped away, left lying there in her upturned palm, Sam called to her retreating form, "I know I'm not Jake, but we're stuck with each other, okay? Seems to me you should get used to it." Sam sat down in the grass, dejectedly. The other horses gave her a wide berth as she cried.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
After some analysis, Sam realized that Witch's mannerisms said it all. She would tolerate Sam only when she needed her, but she would not coddle her. Sam tried to talk to Witch on the rides they shared. She could not think of one thing to say, so she talked about their mutual connection. On one hand, she thought talking about Jake would help Witch to remind her just who wanted them together. On the other, she thought Witch just might be interested in the news of the one person she seemed to love.
Sam talked as they started off, the barn fading behind them. "He doesn't call me, but Quinn says he's fine. I can't bring myself to call him, Witch. Do you think I should? Jen says it reeks of desperation, but can't a friend call a friend? What would I say, though? I'd tell him about you, but I don't have anything to say. You still hate me."
She talked all the while, until they came back in again, "I liked seeing those hawks, too. Didn't you? I wonder what Jake would have thought of them, but of course, he didn't come home for Thanksgiving." Sam had told Witch about the track team's retreat at some resort or something for training and team-building over the Thanksgiving break, but Sam wondered if Witch was even listening, or if she even cared. The rides they shared over Thanksgiving were quieter and more subdued as a result. Witch did not even try to assert her superiority. Sam chewed her lip in worry at how low the horse seemed.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Sam tried to show Witch that while she wasn't Jake, that she loved her. She tried to integrate her into Ace's routines while maintaining her own. She tried to groom her with Jake's notorious precision while playing music, which was something Jake dismissed, but her horses loved it. She hoped Witch would feel more like she belonged if she got her her choice, instead of letting Ace pick Son Volt all the time. One Saturday, Sam planned through grooming, and looked to Witch. Her iPod was in the dock in the barn, sitting on a small out of the way shelf above an outlet. Sam asked Witch, "What would you like to hear?"
Witch's appraisal of her made Sam smile, and she said, "I'll pick today, okay? How about Frankie Valli? I'll put on my mix, yeah?" Sam pushed the buttons and let the music softly play. She moved around Witch, and took up the brush, "Jake'll be home for Christmas in a few days. I'll bet you want to look nice, huh, after all that rolling about in the slush you've been doing?" The firm strokes curried away the dirt and hair. Sam ran out of things to say, so she just muttered along with the songs. Witch blew out a breath, and Sam agreed, "Yeah, I'm no singer. Deal. This is the deluxe package, off key and all." Sam continued brushing, and got lost in the music and in the activity. "Oh, I love this one. You know the words, Witch, I know you do."
Witch turned her head to look at Sam. Her eyes replied, "You are utterly certifiable if you think I care one whit for Diana Ross. However, I will admit that she is not as unpleasant as that swill you play for Ace."
Sam smiled, "You like You Keep Me Hangin' On, don't you, Witch? You can't admit it. I get it. We're cool." Sam stepped back, admiring her work. "Are you going to be okay with the water? I warmed it up for you."
Witch didn't shy away from the application of the warmed water, not even as it slouched down her body towards the drain in the floor, "If I must submit to the assertion that I am anything less than pristine, I suppose the the least you could do is heat the water."
"You're such a good girl, Witch. You like the warm water, don't you?" Sam's goulashes squeaked, and Witch moved away at that, "Hey, you're okay. The water's done. How do you feel about Mane n' Tail?" Sam put the diluted soap on Witch, and rubbed it in with a rubber mitt. Dad said the purchase would spoil the horses, but Sam thought it was fun. "Want to know a secret? You can't tell Jake."
Witch stayed still, and switched her tail. "I'm mildly interested, though I doubt you've many secrets worth the effort it would take to impart them to him. I lack verbal skills, as you well know."
"Once, Jake hugged me, and he asked what I used in my hair. I don't know why. He probably wanted to make fun or something." Sam continued scrubbing, as Witch turned her head, as though she could not believe what she was hearing, "I lied. I use Mane n' Tail. But I told him it was something else, because he'd make fun even worse if he knew I use horse shampoo. It does give results, though."
Witch turned her neck, as if to double check Sam's work, and present her mane to her minion. Sam almost wished she could really speak. It felt like Witch was saying, "I'll say so. Don't you miss my mane, now. I refuse to look slovenly after the magnitude of this undertaking on my part."
Sam stepped back calmly, "Hey, don't go moving around. You're such a good girl. You're doing so well. I'll get your mane as soon as as I'm done with your tail, okay? This is almost over. You're such a pretty lady."
Witch lifted a front hoof, as a woman might when inspecting her nails dully. "I would hardly stop at pretty. I am rather majestic, am I not?"
Sam laughed, and kissed Witch's nose. The horse did not shy away, though Sam thought she looked mildly disgusted at the display of affection.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Sam was disappointed, as she untacked Witch three days later, that she gave no interaction that could be interpreted as a response to her chattering. Still, she kept at it. She talked about the upcoming Christmas season, her excitement at seeing Jake again. She talked about wishing she still had a math tutor. She talked about finding one, and dropping him, because he never explained anything so she could get it. Witch seemed to respond to that, tensing so that Sam patted her neck. Sam talked about how she'd gotten a C+ on another math test, and how Dad was on the verge of killing her over it. Witch didn't seem to care about that. Sam kept coming back to the fact that Jake would be home in 24 hours. He would be home. She could not keep her palms from sweating. That day before school, Witch stepped on her foot twice. Sam knew she'd done it on purpose, as a way to tell her to keep her wits about her. Sam almost thanked her for the reminder.
When she got the news from Mrs. Ely that afternoon, she knew what she had to do. She hopped over the ice, and the piles of snow, uncaring that she skittered and shivered in the freezing and bitter cold. Just days ago, it had been unseasonably warm, and now it felt as icy as her heart. Sam raced to Witch's stall. "Witch." Something in Sam's voice must have alerted the horse, because she looked up directly. Sam let herself into the stall. "He's not coming. He won't say why. He didn't even call me." Sam bit back a sob as Witch stepped away from her.
Sam tried to hug Witch, but the horse's eyes were accusatory, "What did you do? It must be you. He would never refuse to come back to me. What have you done, you silly child?"
"I don't know, Witch. I'm so sorry. I know this hurts." Sam wiped away tears, "Wow, does this hurt. But...please, Witch. We're making progress. I couldn't bear it if I lost you, too. Just think about it. Please?"
Footfalls caused Sam to inhale, and wipe the last of her hasty tears away on the sleeve of her coat, "Sam?"
"I'm here, Dad." Sam let herself out of Witch's stall. "Sorry."
"You weren't with Ace." Dad mused, as Witch popped her head out of the stall. Sam gasped when she realized that Witch was rooting for a treat. Sam offered the one that remained in her coat from this morning easily. As Witch crunched away on it, Dad said, "Well, you're making strides with that horse. I'm real proud of you, Tumbleweed."
Sam forgot to cry, later, when she was alone. Her mind wasn't centered on what Jake's refusal to come home meant, but rather on what Witch's actions, totally out of the blue, had signified for their relationship. Still, in the dark of the night, it was not Witch she dreamed about, but Jake. She woke easily, wondering what on earth he had done, who had become. She fantasized about loading up, driving to the school, and dragging him home hogtied in the back, just so she wouldn't have to see the resignation in Mrs. Ely's eyes, and hear the pain in Quinn's voice. What had happened to the man she knew? He didn't return her calls. Whatever they had been, or hadn't been, would never be. She bottled it up, and threw away the key. Jake couldn't give her his time, but he had entrusted her with his horse. In this, she would not fail, even if it killed her, not because she wanted to show him she was good enough, but because she wanted there to be proof of all that he had given up.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Sam crept back into the barn on Valentine's Day, long past chores. She spent time with Ace, and then with Witch. Witch was sipping water with her usual fastidiousness. Sam knew they had to lay it out there. "I've thought about this for weeks. I have a proposition for you. What's say you and I forget about Jake Ely? We're strong, independent, women. We don't need him. We're too cool for words. We've got each other. We don't need him, Witch."
Witch looked up, "Of course we do, idiot!" Her amber eyes laughed at Sam, or they pitied her for her delusions.
Sam shook her head, driving away the war her mind was waging. She had to be rational. "He left us. We're not going to cry into the dirt, Witch. I've done that enough. And so have you. We're going to let him go, and be just as happy as he is. Except, we're going to be happier, because we have each other."
Witch blew out a puff of air, "You want to make him jealous, and you want me to be in on it. I have never heard of such a devious little ploy, not in all my days. It's foolish."
"See the thing is, you and I, we need to bond. We need to work on being friends. I'm willing to put my all into this. Are you?" Sam sighed, "I'm crazy. It's just...he left us, Witch, but we've got each other, and I'm terrified to lose you, but I don't even have you." Sam began to walk away.
Witch nickered. Sam spun around quickly. "What?" Sam pressed, "This would be so much easier if you could speak." Sam petted Witch, "I'm a silly girl, with a silly, silly, plan."
Witch's dark eyes seemed to be lit with an unholy fire, "You wanted a horse, you've got one. But I don't do things by halves. Hold on to that ridiculously unfashionable hat, girl."
Sam smiled, unaware of the insult to her hat, "Did that nicker mean you'll do it?" She brushed the hair away from Witch's eyes.
Witch stepped away, and rubbed her lips along the pocket where she knew Sam kept treats. "No, you idiot. The nicker meant come here. Give me a treat, and I'll work out the kinks in your plan. It's far too elementary by half."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Sam didn't know what she'd done, but she'd done something. Witch was an entirely new horse as Spring took hold on the high desert. Sam's confidence soared, as Witch did. The horse no longer pulled the petty kinds of stunts she had all term. She seemed to trust Sam, and Sam settled into their dynamics. Their friendship blossomed into something Sam would die to defend. "I think I'm crazy, Witch, but half the time, I think you're replying when I talk."
Witch pulled on the reins, a tiny fraction of an inch, and let go as quickly as she had done it. Sam almost missed it. "I have to do something with my time. It's not as if your little ambles are challenging to a lady of my prowess."
Sam grinned, and urged Witch to fly. She laughed, as the sped like a thundering train across the desert. Sam whooped in exhilaration. They were moving as one. They were doing it. They were a team. When they slowed, it was all Sam could do, not to sob in joy. They were a unit. Their relationship was so different from the one she had with Ace. Ace was her baby, and she would love him until her dying day, but Witch, Witch was an equal. Witch challenged her, and worked with her, if she listened. Witch pushed her to grow, even as Sam knew that she was in charge when push came to shove. The moment of understanding nearly knocked her off the horse.
Witch huffed as she pushed herself up with the horn. "Yeah, I manage to stay on as you nearly kill me, but drop down four or five notches, and I nearly fall off. Yeah. That's how I roll."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Sam was in a bind entirely of her own making. She had to get out to see what was going on, on the range. She felt the unsettling atmosphere, and knew, in her heart, that she wouldn't sleep until she knew all was well. She felt a disconnect that ripped her open inside. She hadn't been out on the range in ages. Between Ace, Witch, school, and more school, she had no time to just be. It was too rare. Still, one night found the Sam standing under the full moon and the stars, which felt so close she could almost touch them. It was almost summer, and she hadn't seen the wild horses in weeks. She just needed to get out there, feel free. She felt hemmed in. There was only so much time a girl could spend in a schoolroom, not with weather as lovely as they were having.
Sam crept into the barn, and stopped. Dallas was in the tack room, working at all hours, as was his wont. She felt Witch's bridle tingle in her fingers, because she'd taken it inside to clean, while Cody slept, but nothing else. They'd been working on bareback, in the ring and then the pastures and even riding with Jen, but this was the litmus test of weeks of trust building, some of which had left her in the dirt. Those times, though, it had been her own fault, not Witch's. The devil on her shoulder whispered tempting things.
Without a word, Sam led Witch out into the yard, praying that she wouldn't be caught. "Can we make this work?" Sam slipped the bridle on, and asked Witch's permission. The horse gave it, and Sam felt something shift from within her soul as her body melded into Witch's back. She worked carefully to sit forward, but her toes dipped, and Witch interpreted that as a signal to go faster, before they even set out. Sam's breath caught in a whoosh, as they sped over the bridge, and into the night before anyone saw.
Once they slowed, Sam inhaled, "I suppose I should thank you for getting us out of there so quickly, but..."
Witch tossed her head and inhaled, letting out a whinny, "But nothing. Your indecisiveness nearly got us caught." Sam wondered if she'd imagined hearing Dallas coming out of the barn behind her.
Sam made a calming noise, and patted her neck, "Shh. You're alright. Do you smell the wild horses?" Sam looked around, and caught a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye on the horizon. There were many other dots following them. After a long period of observation, was satisfied, and made move to turn around. Witch would have none of it. It seemed as though she was intent on moving towards the horses. "I can't believe you're being stubborn now. I let you have your way too much."
Witch pulled back to the left. Sam corrected Witch, by not giving an inch, "We can't go that way. Dad would kill me, and then what would you do?"
Witch allowed herself to be urged back to the ranch, with a snort. "I assure you, I would have no trouble making my way."
Sam grinned, "Oh, Witch, you silly girl. What would Jake say about how I've ruined your discipline? I know, I know... We're not supposed to talk about him. But I miss him, you know, especially on nights like this, when the moments feel so full. I'm glad you're here to share them with me."
"I'm better company." Witch asserted, through a spring in her step, "After all, Jake Ely can't make you feel like the stars are your carpet." Sam laughed in joy, as they sped across the range. Her week of groundation was worth it. Dallas ratted her out to Dad after he read her the riot act himself, which began the very second she set hoof back on her own land.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
After she got off probation, Sam knew her confidence had grown. She didn't sob when Mrs. Ely told her that Jake wasn't coming home for Spring break. Apparently, he was off in Montana with some school friend. No, she didn't sob. If she cried, the only one who knew was Witch, and Sam knew she'd never tell. After that, Sam rarely used a saddle with Witch. It was easier, somehow, not to. She never worried about her saddle if they ended up in the middle of the lake, or not being able to communicate with Witch. Without the saddle, it was freaky how much they seemed to be able to share. She had to hide her disuse from her father, though, because she didn't want him to get suspicious.
It was so amazing with Witch, now that they were training towards bridleless riding. They were finally friends. She could tell her anything, and it seemed that Witch understood her, even the things she did not say. Sam tried to settle into her new life. It was a life without Jake, but she was okay. She would never be angry at him, never, because he had given her Witch. Somehow, she came to terms with that. It was a gesture of trust. He trusted her with the one being that had meant the world, the very universe to him. Sam had expected him to call to make sure she wasn't screwing up his horse, at least weekly, but he never did. He had not called her at all. He hadn't picked up the phone on his birthday, nor replied to birthday card she'd mailed. On a whim that Jen dismissed as desperation, Sam had included a photograph of her and Witch, together. Selfishly, she wondered if he remembered her at all. Sam's memory faded. Jen watched as she slid off of Witch's back. She said the same thing she had been saying for the last eight weeks, "You're crazy."
Did Jen know Sam thought Witch was talking to her, sometimes, that she could sometimes read her body and actions like she was hearing words? "Wh-What?"
"Teaching her that." Jen said, gesturing to the neck rope that Sam hadn't touched for weeks. "She's not your horse. You have no right to train her to bridleless. It's dangerous!"
"I trust her." Sam asserted. "We're a team." Sam wanted to know how far they could take it, how much they could meld. She had read all her life about bridleless riding. She'd seen Dad train horses to it, several times. She'd always wanted to try it, and it felt right with Witch. They'd stumbled into it by accident and circumstance, but Sam wasn't about to walk away from Witch's freely given gesture of trust.
"She doesn't have the temperament for it, Sam." Jen asserted, gripping the metal gate tightly, "Neither do you."
"Excuse me?" Sam said, eyes crackling with fire. Just because Jen didn't understand the promises they'd made each other, didn't mean that she could insult their efforts.
Jen backed off, speaking softly and letting go of the fence. "You know she's not the kind of horse that responds well to bridleless riding. She's hardly compliant or docile."
"Funny, what I just saw was exactly that." Despite her strongheadness, Witch had taken to this like a fish to water. When the bridle was off, she never, never, acted up. Sam wasn't going to put their safety in jeopardy. She wasn't stupid, and if it didn't go well, the bridle would go back on, no questions asked. They'd worked for weeks on cues, on doing it, with the reins tied as a fallback. She had learned something from her father. She would never ruin a horse with foolishness. After all, she'd done it once. Only a fool didn't take the lessons from her mistakes.
"You're desperate, Sam, to hold onto to anything that reminds you of him." Jen asserted. "You're determined to do this, because you think that if you remove every last barrier between Witch and you, that Jake will come back to you."
"That's a baldfaced lie, Jen, and you know it. He gave her to me, and he walked away. Why should we languish away? We don't need Jake Ely." With that, Sam mounted up. Witch seemed to be looking down her nose at Jen. Had she been able, Sam would sworn she flicked her hair like a girl in high school at Jen when she tossed her mane.
Jen called after her, as she stood in the ring at Harmony, "So that's what this is! I pray you don't test theory with me, because I'm not Jake Ely. I won't pick up your bleeding and broken body from the desert floor, Sam."
Sam knew Jen wouldn't. That's why the only people she could trust with her safety, body, mind, and soul, were her horses, and the things she herself had taught them.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Despite Jen's reservations, their fight was quickly forgotten. Sam took to riding with nothing more often than not. When Dad or Dallas was around, watching her tack up, she used the neck rope. Dad sat her down, the first time he saw it, and ran his hand through his hair. Nothing would dissuade her, though, and he knew it. He took her on a ride with Witch several times, running them through the paces.
She and Witch had grown up, somehow. They took to flying over the range in the evenings, staying out until twilight. The mornings belonged to Ace. He was her baby. He was her heart, but Witch was a part of her mind and soul in a way that Sam could not articulate. "Where should we go, Witch?" Sam asked, "I can't believe school ends tomorrow. Wow. Where should I go to college? I keep getting things in the mail. I wish you could show me my future."
Witch flicked a hoof, and Sam smiled. "You can? Really?" Sam patted her neck, "Why you don't you, O Great One?"
Witch turned her head, as if to say, "I hope you were being serious about that nickname. I sincerely do not take kindly to mocking. Remember, you asked for this."
Sam urged Witch onward, and she loped forward, with a grace that stole Sam's breath. Sam urged her into a flying change, just because she could, and Witch knew it. Still, she threaded fingers into Witch's mane, and let the speed take her away. She was a time-traveller, and it was glorious. There was nothing more she wanted. Something welled up inside of her. There was something she wanted. She'd buried it the first time it had come around, but if it ever did again, she would not let it pass by without a fight.
The light of the fading sun shined around them. Sam reached up slightly as the chopsticks holding her hair back flew out, becoming lost somewhere in the brush they left behind. She'd taken to using them because hairties never contained her hair, and pins dug into her, ached under the weight of her hair. Sam leaned down, and used her leg to urge Witch into a gallop. She felt like a warrior, wild, crazy, but wholly in control.
She would take what Witch had taught her, and grasp the future with both hands, whatever it brought. She would always remember Jake, and the love she'd come to understand that they'd let them pass by last year. By giving her Witch, he'd opened the door to another kind of love, another kind of friendship, and she would be grateful for that gift, until the moment she died. Through Witch, her future was now. She was living wholly in the moment. She felt powerful and in control, full of hope and joy. It was a hope borne of confidence and the joy that came from a hard won assurance. This was the embodiment of her future, and the best part was, she didn't have to wait for it. It was now, right there for the taking, lying across the open range like an unplotted map.
The Beginning
Meanwhile, Back at Three Ponies...
Jake slapped his hat against his knee, lost in thought. Quinn was insistent that he come with him before anything else, and after all of this time, Jake didn't have the heart to deny him.
"You can take Digger." Quinn offered, "Come on. There's something you need to see. Hurry up."
"What?" He pressed as they set out. Jake knew that Quinn was beyond angry at his behavior, but there was no way to explain that he hadn't called because he was weak. He knew that in one conversation, he would crumble, come home and never leave again. He had no way of telling them all that he wasn't going back to school. He'd busted himself, gotten his 60 credits throughout the regular terms, and the vacation sessions, and was applying to the police academy next month. There had been no trip to Montana, unless they counted the Montana Room in the school library.
"Come on." Quinn picked up the pace, and came to a stop on a slight rise. Jake was out of breath. Digger was nothing like Witch, and he hadn't been on a horse in almost a year. His thighs nearly hurt, though he would never admit it.
"Why are we here?" Jake asked, trying not to revel in how much he had missed this. He had missed this so much it almost felt like he was bleeding inside.
Quinn fished binocs out of his saddle bags. "I don't know if you'll need 'em. Sometimes, I do, and sometimes I don't. Should be any second now."
Jake wasn't sure what he was waiting for. He was wasting time, sitting here with his brother. He had a lot to say to Sam. He needed to see her, promise her that the radio silence had been personal, but not in the way she thought. He knew he'd hurt her. She called, but never left messages. He would know it had been her without checking the caller ID, because she'd inhale and exhale once on the machine, like the beep had hurt her. Sometimes, hearing her breathe, just once, after a 15 hour day, had been the only thing to get him through the night and wake up the next morning.
After he'd come up with his plan to get all of his credits done in one year, he'd run at it full speed, uncaring what his dormmates thought. He didn't even know any of their names. The Fall credit load of 21 credits...Woah. Was that Witch? Moreover, was that Sam? The rider in the distance moved in unison with the horse. Jake raised the binoculars to his eyes, and his questions were answered. It was indeed Sam and his horse. His heart skipped a beat as Sam's hair fell down, swirling about her in a nimbus he could see from far away.
Jake didn't remove the binoculars. Quinn urged, "Really look, okay?"
He pulled away his gaze from her wide, heartfelt smile, and his heart stopped. There was no saddle. Sam was racing at breakneck speeds across the range, without the support of a saddle. Her hands moved, as did her leg, and he thought, "Thank God, she's slowing down." His heart dropped as she sped up, rather than slowing down. Witch's gait shifted seamlessly from a lope to a full out gallop. Her inky black body looked like a steam engine as Sam guided her without reins. Jake made a broken sound. There was nothing between them, except an amazing trust and a natural skill that amazed him.
Jake tossed the the binocs at Quinn and urged Digger into a lope as his heart pounded. He had no clue what he was doing, but this felt right. His hands were shaking. There would be time to process what his actions meant later. He needed to touch her, feel her heartbeat thud against him as the adrenaline pulsed through her veins, as she reveled in the relationship she clearly had forged with Witch. His horse, his stubborn, willful horse, had met her equal in the valkyrie of a woman before him. He wanted to know if he could keep up with her, match her hoofbeat for hoofbeat, heartbeat for heartbeat, soul to soul. If he could, who knew what tomorrow would bring?
Raven hair and ruby lips
Sparks fly from her finger tips
Echoed voices in the night
She's a restless spirit on an endless flight
Woo Hoo Witchy Woman,
See how high she flies
Woo Hoo Witchy Woman
She's got the moon in her eyes
Witchy Woman, The Eagles
This is just a oneshot I had to write. It's been sitting on my hard drive for ages. I've been kicking around posting it for ages. It's not the Witchy Woman I mention on my profile, but the title fits this so much better. Listen to Jen, she's a voice of reason. Don't do what Sam does without oodles of training and support, as artistic license was applied. As Sam discovered, horses can't talk, but they speak, if only we listen.
