AN: Sorry guys, been working on something a little different. But I've been out playing with my own horses, so my muse is back!
Chapter 36
Returning to Trenton
Stepping off the plane I moved towards the baggage claim to retrieve my duffel before hopping a shuttle out to the parking structure where I left my truck. I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and then climbed in next to it. I had started my truck, thanks to modern technology, on the way out of the elevator. I only needed to stick my key into the ignition and let the seat automatically move into the preset position for my driving.
Since the stables were on the way to Trenton I decided to swing by to check on my big man. Maybe sneak in a ride before returning to my apartment and the confines of the city. Pulling down the long winding driveway towards the barns, I spotted Wrangler romping in the pasture with a much smaller, strikingly colored yearling. She was dark bay, almost black, with an oddly shaped blaze that covered half of her face and left one of her eyes blue. To go with the big blaze she had 2 white stockings on opposite front and back legs. This must be the filly that Quinn had mentioned. I pulled up at the barn and grabbed a handful of grain out of Wrangler's bag and his halter off the hook, before thinking and going to search for Quinn, finding him grooming one of his mares down the aisle. Asking him if I should bring in the filly, he advised it would probably be smart, not knowing how she would react to being left out alone. He showed me her halter, which hung under a gold nameplate that read Killer. Quinn rolled his eyes when I gave him the 'should I be worried' look.
"Her name is Death by Stilettos, but she is a sweetie, especially for her owner. Not sure how she'll react to you, want me to go out?"
This time I was the one who rolled my eyes and threw the halters over my left forearm, changing out the handful of grain for a few treats. Stuffing them in my Carhartt sweatshirt before opening the gate to the pasture and whistling for Wrangler. His ears perked, head jerking up and searching for me immediately. Once he found me close to the gate, he nickered at me before bursting into a lope that ate up the ground between us, closing the gap in a few seconds. He jerked to a stop a few feet in front of me and shoved his head into my chest whuffling and lipping at my clothes. It was another second before I felt a set of much smaller lips working at the sweatshirt pocket, Wrangler felt it too and pinned his ears at the much smaller gangly filly. She squealed but held her ground, I was impressed. I put the halter on Wrangler first, feeding him the first of the cookies.
Dropping the lead rope in the universal symbol for ground tying, I moved to Killer, crooning soft nothings at her. I was almost to her when she tipped her nose in the air and moved off a few feet. I followed after her still crooning and clucking at her. We repeated this game a few times before another whistle blew in on the wind. This time it was her head the jerked, searching for the source, whom she obviously knew. I turned towards the gate, expecting to see that Quinn had indeed followed me out. What I found was a whole lot easier on the eyes. Killer blew past me at a full run, sliding to a stop just shy of the fence that a pair of jeans encased legs dangled. Pushing her head into the lap, in a scene reminiscent of what Wrangler had done to me, she almost knocked who I assumed to be her owner off the fence, where she was perched.
Stephanie reached down, rubbing the filly everywhere she could reach. Hopping down from the fence, she began to walk towards me, the filly prancing along next to her. Upon reaching me she held her hand out for the halter, slipping it over the fillys nose and buckling it behind her ears. "She's a shit for everyone but me apparently, Quinn said he put her out here with a clients gelding, the one she played with in the aisle way the other day. Glad to see they get along." She was rubbing the filly's neck and playing with her mane as she spoke to me. "He's a gorgeous boy Ram, caught my eye the first day I was out here. I never knew you had a horse here." I picked up Wrangler's rope and started towards the gate, walking next to Steph. Killer's rope just thrown over her withers so she wouldn't step on it, that filly looked like she would follow Stephanie anywhere. "Yeah, I feel cooped up in the city. I needed a getaway, so I had Wrangler shipped out here and started roping again. Killer seems like a great little filly, you sure have her wrapped around your finger. When did you get her?"
"I've been wanting to get back into horses for awhile now. So when I came out to visit my old high school best friend Melanie to get back into it, we agreed I needed 2 horses to get back into the barrel racing scene. So little miss Killer here is the one I am going to train myself, and my big boy is coming in on a plane this evening, so Quinn left to pick him up. Should be back in an hour or so. So I came out to work little miss here, while I waited on our new arrival." She smiled when she talked about horses, it lit up her face and you could feel her excitement. I wanted to keep that smile on her face for the rest of time.
Falling into step next to her, we walked back to the barn together. That filly never left her side, sure she fooled around with the horses that had their heads stuck over their stalls doors, but she always fell back into step with Stephanie. It was mesmerizing to watch. I couldn't wait to see her work Killer, "Would you mind if I watched before I rode the big guy here?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Yeah no problem, I was gonna try to do some at liberty work with her tonight in the big arena. You're welcome to watch." Stopping outside the tack room she dropped Killers leadrope to the ground and walked into the room. I'd seen fully trained horses not respond as well as Killer did. The bond Stephanie had managed to build was remarkable. When she came back she had a stick and string, and a long lunge whip in her hand and what looked like a long cotton lunge rope draped over her shoulder. I handed Wranglers rope to Steph while I grabbed his bridle throwing it over my forearm before picking up a saddle pad and my roping saddle with my left hand.
I set the saddle on a tack trunk in front of a stall, and went back into the tack room to pick up a brush set. Saddled and bridled, we walked out to the big outdoor arena. I couldn't help but feel like this was as close to perfect as I could get. My horse, what I hoped to could still be my girl and a fresh, open arena.
AN: Please leave some feedback, whether it's what you want to happen, or something you would like me to post on the pinterest board!