Ok, this might still be considered a bit of a prologue, but bear with me people. The next chapter should get into the real action and the Heartland stuff. It will get longer, I promise. I usually write 7-8 page stuff once I get past the prologue.

Leap of Faith

Chapter 2

::Daniel::

"Something decent?" I asked, wondering what Nick meant. Surely his daughter knew a good horse when she saw one, right?

"Emilie has a tendency to look for a green-as-grass runaway type of horse. She'll never actually look for a flashy show horse, she just turns the others into them." Nick replied with a grin. "Ally was an ex-racer that had no idea what a trot or canter was…" Nick broke off, glancing into the stall as I led Storm in.

::Emma::

"Damn bumper-pull trailers! How the heck are you supposed to back into that tiny socket?!" Have I ever mentioned that bumper pull trailers are my worst enemy? Give me a gooseneck any day. After a while I FINALLY managed to get the trailer hooked up to the truck. Of course, then I had to get all the stupid cords and chains hooked up too. I wish trailers were easier to hook up. Hooking up is my least favorite part of trailering. Well, then again, depending on the horse, loading up and unloading can be a real pain too.

I got back into the cab and drove off, checking the directions every couple minutes. My dad gives awful directions and it didn't help that I hadn't been here in a year. Eventually I found my way to the livestock auction place (after three wrong turns and stopping at a gas station to ask directions), parked the trailer, and headed for the auction barn. "Try to get something decent. Hah. Decent. Yeah, right." I said out loud, receiving an odd look from some guy standing in the doorway. I watched as show horse after show horse after show horse was led into the ring. Then there was a short break in which a lot of people left. Glancing toward the parking lot, I noticed that most of the nicer, shiny trailers were leaving and the parking lot was now dominated by "pots" as they are called. The trailers used to take horses to the slaughter house. Well, dad gave me a few thousand. I could save a couple of horses. Who cares if I was supposed to get a good horse. I sure as hell don't.

I watched the first few horses led in. First was a bay horse so old that it was roaning out and its back was hanging unbelievably low. The others were all too old. About 15 horses later we got into the young horses that had been mistreated at some point. A nice bay 8-year old went to a girl who looked about 16. A tall black colt caught my eye. He was about 4 and still in a growth spurt, but it looked like his conformation was perfect for jumping. By my guess he was thoroughbred-y type, perhaps a bit of Hanoverian mixed in. He had been abused and was extremely head shy. I could see a few scars on his head, but from here, I couldn't tell exactly what made them. I managed to buy him for $2000.

(A.N.- I'm just improvising most of this auction stuff cuz I've never been to one)

I still had some more money, so I stuck around. A few more horses went through until a potentially flashy filly came in. She was a bay morgan and a way on the small side for jumping, but her hind end looked pretty powerful. She had obviously been broken in by charros. She had a scar around her middle and around each fetlock. Somehow I didn't quite believe that the diamond-shaped star was natural either. She kept trying to set back and run away from her handlers. A couple of the killer buyers threw in bids, but the girl who bought the bay bidded too. I outbidded her and the killers weren't willing to go any higher, so I got her.

I walked back to the trailer and grabbed a couple halters. I figured that the colt would be easier to load, so I went to his stall first. He was trying to hide at the back and since he was black he did have an advantage, but it isn't too hard to spot a 17 hand horse. I slipped into the stall and shut the door behind me. I leaned on it, but didn't move as the horse glanced at me suspiciously.

"So what should we name you, big guy?" He snorted at the sound of my voice.

"Hmmm… Apollo? No, that's more of a chestnut or sorrel name. They say that if you name a horse Sugar or Sweetie it'll be a brat, so what do you think of Diablo?" Another snort. I grinned.

"Oh you don't like it? Devil and Demon are too plain. How about Donas? That one's Gaelic. Then again, you can imagine how an announcer could screw that one up. I've even heard them screw up on 'Hershey' so maybe we should stick with English, huh?" I pulled a carrot out of my pocket and held it out to him. He stretched his neck out and tried to take the carrot without getting near me.

"Sorry buddy, but you aren't getting this until you come a little closer. Hmmm… names. How about…. Burn? Wow, I've been listening to WAY too much Three Days Grace. But seriously, how does that sound? A little plain as a show name, so… Crash 'n' Burn? Yeah, it fits. And if that whole opposite thing is true, maybe you won't ever have problems with jumping!" I said with a grin. I took a step closer to the horse. He didn't shrink back. I walked up to him and patted him on the neck. He flinched, but didn't back away. I broke of a small piece of carrot and gave it to him.

"Alright buddy. I'm going to put the halter on you. I think it'll fit and I promise it won't be too small." I held the rope halter carefully and slipped it over his nose without touching him. I gave him another piece of carrot and gently slid the top piece of the halter over his neck, carefully tying it off. "Good boy! See, halters aren't scary and neither am I. If I ever hurt you, you've got my full permission to beat me into the ground. Honest. I would really deserve it." I opened the stall door and led him out, making sure he didn't bump into anything. I led him through the barn, out into the parking lot, and over to the trailer. I walked him around in front of the trailer for a while before asking him to load. He actually went in pretty well. I walked up to him and gave him a carrot before I closed the divider and left to get the filly.

I found her tied in a stall wearing a too-small halter. "Hey little girl. How ya doin'? I took another piece of carrot and held it out to her, but she wouldn't take it. I carefully unbuckled the halter and put it around her neck, untying it in case she set back. I started rubbing her neck, slowly moving up toward her neck. When I got my hand about halfway up her neck, she threw her head up, threatening to set back.

"Well, I guess I'll have fun getting this on you." I said quietly. I whispered to the filly in Spanish, not really paying attention to what I was saying. All the time, I gently rubbed her neck, using a technique similar to T-Touch, but I didn't really know how to do it, so I just made up my own way. I held the halter up carefully, offering it to her, giving her the option to put her nose in it. She didn't toss her head, but she didn't lower it either. I gently slipped the halter over her ears. Or at least I tried to. As soon as my hands touched her head, she flew backwards, head it the air, threatening to rear.

"Sorry honey, but right now, I'm gonna have to do this the hard way. We'll work it out later, alright?" Moving slowly, I walked up to her, first tossing the lead rope over her back and sliding it up to her neck and I held it there. Then I pulled her head down and kept my arm over it. If she threw her head, my arm and I were going with it. I got the nosepiece around her nose easily enough, but she fought for all she was worth to keep me from crossing the crownpiece over her head. When I finally managed to, I found that she wasn't really halterbroke. She didn't understand the concept of leading at all. I walked around putting slight pressure to push her forward. She tried to kick me. Wonderful. I was in the middle of a big auction, trying to load a horse that wasn't even halter broke. Damn I'm screwed. I had no way of working with her to teach her anything here. I would just have to BS my way back to the trailer, then into it. Fun. Right.

Have you ever seen the video for Terri Clark's song "Girls Lie Too"? OMG it's hilarious.

Oh and the thing with the filly, we used to have a horse at the barn where I board Hershey that was a 14.2 morgan who could jump the back fence (9 ft high) from a standstill. Needless to say, George could even jump out of his stall.