Disclaimer: Everytime...do you really need the routine explanation?
AN: Okay, I need a break from TM cause we're getting to a good part and it needs to be perfecto. Hopefully this addition will be as entertaining....
More importantly though, I've been slacking in the Shout Out department. Very bad taste for an author her lives and breathes their reviews. So:
FrenchyGoil: Glad to see you're liking TM, maybe this will hit the spot also.
Klover: Loyal reviewer that you are. I need to sit and think how I can fit you in to one of these stories...wait, already I have an idea....yipee!
KatFightOnSkis: I updated, but not TM. Is this as good?
Dakki: As usual I'm just thrilled to see a review from you. They're as enjoyable a read as your stories. Tell Dalton I say hi, and that I'm not one to forget...not liking Eppie...walking a thin line bud, that's all I gotta say....
Book One: Upstate Races
Chapter 3
She's a beaut! Annabelle perked to attention, stopping briefly on the side of the barn that received the least amount of moonlight. The voices of Racetrack and her brother were enough to lead her to the closest window, her memory of the surroundings serving her better than any amount of light. Feeling around for the crates she knew lay beneath, she was able to silently stack them high enough to slip into the low window.
She jumped to the ground firmly, the straw that lined every inch of the barn cushioning any amount of sound that would give her away. She sure is, best horse we've got. It's Pa's horse, not Mr. Webster's. That means I can train her, like a real race horse.
Roz's enthusiasm was evident in his voice and as Annabelle made her way over all the barn's accessories, it seemed Race shared the same enjoyment.
He began some story about the track and what he'd seen the jockey's practicing with their horses, drawing Roz in and boring the hell out of Jack. Sticking his hands deep within his pockets, Jack turned away from the two, searching in the high arches of the barn. He craned his neck back to view what hung from the rafters, walking awkwardly too close to the Macy's half of the stall. The horse snorted, scuffing her feet in annoyance.
Jack chuckled lightly, holding up his hands in defense while backing up into the open area of the barn, between the row of stalls. Didn't mean to overstep me bounds. He remarked, nonexistent to the two deep in conversation on the other side of the stall. Bowing in a symbol of parting, he shuffled backwards to explore more of the barn, turning just in time to see Annabelle stumbled from the shadows. Sweet Jesus, he jumped back, the volume of his voice startling not only the horses but also Roz and Racetrack.
Annabelle, what are you doing? Roz appeared at the head of the stall, watching as Annabelle pulled the last of Macy's reins from her foot. During her traverse of the barn she'd wandered into the tack room, tangling herself in a mess of leather. Roz reached forward and helped his sister, grabbing the straps to hang them on the hook next to the stall. Sneaking around the barn at this time of night?
What am I doing? Roz why were you in Macy's stall and She stepped closer to the trio, snatching the cigar from her brother's free hand. Smoking! Roz, what has Pa said about smoking.
Roz huffed in annoyance, swinging in an attempt to grab the nicotine. Since when are you the poster child for obedience.
Annabelle clenched her fists at her brother's teasing snicker. Pa's rules are for the horse's safety RozMama's just an old goose. Jack felt as if he were intruding on the conversation and in an attempt to remain as invisible as possible he moved flush against the wall. But in the process he kicked over a pail, an echoing ring filling the barn and calling Annabelle's less than pleasant attention. And bringing these boys here. You know the barn is off limits at night. It's dangerous.
Again, what's with you and sticking to the rules? Were you watching us or something? He turned back to where he and Race had been reclining on a bed of hay, running his fingers along Macy's main as he moved. Go back to your kitchen why dontcha.
Frustrated at her brother's stupidity, Annabelle shot Jack a glare, daring him to agree with her brother or say anything otherwise. Stalking further into the stall she ducked under Macy's neck and stopped in front of Race. Pa said you knew horses. There was no way she was going to let Roz's ignorance jeopardize her plan.
Annabelle's attention pulled Race to his feet and he nodded affirmatively, tucking his cigar behind his back when he noticed her steady gaze. Been around em all my life.
Then you'll help us, won't you. Roz moved forward, appearing about to speak but Annabelle cut him off. He told you about the tournament, didn't he? Tri-Area County jockey's only. Winner goes to New York City to race at Sheepshead Bay, you heard of the place?
Hoid of da place Race laughed out loud, his tone friendly as he looked at Jack for confirmation. Lady, dat's da only place a real horseman like meself would go. Race returned to the seat he'd created in the straw, smirking at Annabell'e energy and still chuckling to himself. Yea, I've hoid of da place.
She chimed in, settling on the straw next to him. I was thinking, if we told Pa that we were teaching this one over here, She pointed her thumb to where Jack was still hugging the wall. how to ride, that'd give us enough time for you to help Roz. She shifted to face Jack, You clueless bout horses right?
He blinked quickly at the fact she'd addressed him so frankly before nodding, Yea, well I've ridden once. Nothing much though.
Great. I'll teach him the basics, get me out of that blasted kitchen and Mama won't
Kicking off of the wall where he'd been leaning and sucking angrily on his cigar, Roz interrupted. Wait a second, what's all this about you teaching Jack. I mean, I can tell him what to do while Race helps me with my form. He bent on his hind legs, balancing on the balls of his feet. Mama would never go for you being out of the house so much.
Annabelle cursed silently, standing and pacing in the small stall. She rested next to Macy, grooming the horse lightly with her fingertips. Jack was surprised when the large, very large, animal turned towards Annabelle and gingerly nudged her cheek, licking almost at the delicate skin. After a moments hesitation, Annabelle sighed, Leave Mama to me. Just ask Pa if we can use the ring after supper, for the next week.
The three nodded in agreement and Annabelle headed to leave. Wait, how much time before the tournament? Asked Race, not sure whether to address Roz or the commanding Annabelle.
Ten days.
Jack shielded his eyes from the blinding midday sun, pulling his suspenders back to their rightful place atop his shoulders. Here ya go Jack. Turning towards Race he took the mug of cool spring water, relishing in the way it washed the dust from his parched lips.
Come on boys, make the most of your lunch break if ya know what I mean, Both boys turned as Tom crossed their path, his face and clothes also covered in the dry silt of the fields. The back of his neck was burnt red from long days plowing the crops and his shoulders hunched from the work. Two days Jack had been beside Tom, hoeing and working his hands in the dirt and already his body had adopted the slumped shoulders and slow walk. He was exhausted and wondered how Tom, a man accustomed to his library and books, could stand such a gruesome end to summer.
The three followed the few other workers out of the field, dropping whatever tools they'd had at the edge and dispersing to different edges of Webster property. Ducking into the shade of the Mooring household, Jack soon realized just why Tom tortured his body so. Bending over the shoulder of his wife to kiss her flour-covered cheek and pat her belly, Tom and Rose created the perfect picture of martial bliss. Jack had learned the night before, after a long smoke outside with Kloppman, that Tom and Rose were planning on moving to a larger town near Albany so that Tom could start his own practice. But until the baby was born they'd remain with he Mooring family.
Lunch passed too quickly and soon Jack was lining up behind Race and reentering the blistering heat. We need to stop out front first, Tom reminded, leading the two in a different direction, make sure that Mrs. Webster's front lawn is as she likes it. Tom laughed, passing off a bottle of water to Jack. Have ya met the old lady yet?
No, and by the sounds of it, doesn't look like I want to.
Tom closed the bottle before tossing it over to Race, his hands fumbling for control and finally dropping it to the ground. Nah, she's okay. A little testy. Sure as hell gives Annbelle a hard time. Same thing she did with Rose, although Annabelle's He trailed off, letting the boys fill in the end as they pleased.
She's a fighta, dat's what she is, Race supplemented, removing the hat from his head to wipe at the sweat underneath. Tom nodded in agreement and jogged ahead at the sound of horses approaching.
As they rounded the corner of the house, the landscaped area providing shade with the luscious trees, Jack peered into the side windows of the Webster household, seeing if he could spot Annabelle inside the windows. For the past two days she'd spent most of her time indoors, buttering up her mother so that their plan would work. That night he'd have his first lesson in riding.
He was anxious to see how she behaved in the ring, around Macy or one of the other horses. Hopefully she'd be a little more pleasant than previous encounters. He'd glimpsed aspects other than her temper, that night in the barn, speaking so ardently to Race about the horses, and he'd become intrigued. And her smile, even when briefly bestowed during dinner thanks to Kloppman's soft tease, was quirky. He figured that around the horses she'd be more relaxed, within her element and willing to forget their previous conversationspossibly succumb to his charm.
Coming around the bend of the house, Jack stopped at the end of the main drive next to Tom and Race, both men squinting at the carriage now parked out front. Ah, the queen has returned. Tom mumbled, shifting his weight slightly.
Race and Jack glanced at Tom briefly before returning their attention to the carriage. Already the large trunks on the back were being unstrapped and hauled inside, each one marked with an identical pink bow. The door to the carriage open and out jumped an older man, his hand offered to whoever sat inside.
That's Mr. Webster. Tom explained.
Really? Thought he wasn't coming back from Boston until later in da week. Jack remarked, recalling the information he heard from the previous day's dinner.
Tom shrugged. He was picking up his daughter, Fanny, from her boarding school. You can never tell with that one. At the mention of her name, the young lady stepped out of the carriage, the majority of her face hidden by the large brim of her hat. Only when she turned to the side did Race and Jack catch her profile, and the significant upward angle of her prim little nose.
Race whistled long and low, taking off his hat to beat his face. Tom chuckled at the gesture. Got that right. Annabelle might be a little harsh towards her parents but Fanny Webster, she's down right nasty and Annabelle will be the first to tell ya. They're the same age, those two, but worlds apart.
Looks to me like she needs a trip to da city, Race shook his head in disgust. We'se teach her a few tins bout humility.
Tom my boy! The three turned at attention as Mr. Webster waved them over towards him. Mrs. Webster had come out of the house to greet her husband and daughter and was waiting with an open smile also.
As the three moved towards the trio, Tom whispered, You'd get no where with her. Drives Annabelle up the walls, damn funniest thing I've ever seen, the two of im in the same room.
They stopped a few feet away, nodding in acknowledgement instead of offering their dirty hands to shake. How are things, Tom? Everything ship shape while I was gone? Mr. Webster's grin surprised Jack for it appeared to be welcoming and truly genuine. He addressed Tom not as an employee but as a fellow businessman.
Course sir. Tom replied, tipping his hat towards Mrs. Webster and Fanny. Mr. Mooring's father in law arrived the other day, bringing along two good workers. May I introduce to you Racetrack Higgins and Jack Kelly. He patted each boy on the back after saying their name.
Mr. Webster thanked them for coming briefly. Our pleasa sir, Jack explained, his hat no longer on his head and blocking the afternoon sun. We've been meaning ta get up to des parts. Haven't been out of da city befo.
Any why would you? Lovely city New York is. What is it that you do there?
You could say we're in the newspaper business. Jack slipped Race a smirk, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Fanny Webster had finally removed her ridiculous hat.
Father, it's so hot, may I go inside. She whined, handing her hat off to one of the men passing by. The servant, accustomed to work in the garden, stared strangely at the hat as it sat atop his gardening tools.
Mr. Webster shook his head. Where are my manners? This is my wife Meredith. The boys nodded politely at the aging beauty.
We met the day before Harold. She explained, looping her arm with her husbands.
Oh yes, well, then this is my daughter Fanny. Looking somewhat annoyed that she still hadn't gone inside, Fanny held her hand out, expecting it to be kissed. Jack looked quickly at Race, stricken with anxiety as to what he should do with the lace-covered hand. When no one received her hand, Fanny faced the boys, her expression less than welcoming. But to Jack's surprise, after holding her cold gaze for a few moments the lines around her mouth and eyes softened into a pretty smile. She nodded her head in a gesture of all politeness and refinement.
Mrs. Webster noticed the inviting smile now spread across her daughter's flirtatious lips. Before she could recognize Jack's expression as one of obvious surprise and disinterest, she began to chatter about getting Fanny inside. Nonsense mother, it's a lovely day. Don't you agree Mr. Kelly.
Oh, y-yes miss. Very nice indeed.
Fanny dropped the shall around her shoulders, showing the swooping neckline of her dress. Please, call me Fanny.
Certainly miss. Finding the whole thing amusing, Race chuckled into his hand, molding it into a cough but not before Tom noticed and followed suit.
Have you had the pleasure of dining in out house, Mr. Kelly? Fanny asked, surprising the whole party by her graciousness.
Please, call me Jack. Jack cleared his throat, aware of how everyone was staring at him. And no, I can't say I have. Tankfully, da Moorings have been kind enough to invite us to stay at dere home.
Oh mother! Fanny exclaimed, clapping her hands in happiness. This will be my new project. She turned back to Jack, placing her hand on his briefly, winking as she did so. You will dine with us tonight Jack. I'll plan the whole meal. It will be quite swell, don't you agree mother?
Trying to appear in control, Mrs. Webster fished for an excuse to cancel the evening. Dear, I'm sure Mrs. Mooring has already started preparing for supper.
Pish, she can whip up something else, that's what we have her for. Jack noticed Tom stir uncomfortably in his silence. Besides, she's got her daughters to help.
Mr. Webster, sensing the awkward air among the group as Tom, Race and Jack remained silent and Fanny continued to bat her eyelashes in their direction, jumped in to the conversation, Why, this sounds lovely. He clapped his hands as everyone nodded hesitantly in agreement. Why don't we invite the whole Mooring family to join us. I haven't had the pleasure to meet this father in law. It will be a quiet end to a very tiresome day.
Mrs. Webster understood her husbands attempt to cover up their daughter's improper flirtations and agreed wholeheartedly. Excellent idea, my dear.
And Fanny, seeing this as the time for a slight compromise, said nothing and focused her gaze on Jack.
Oh, Mr. Webster! The group turned to the front door as Mrs. Swan, the head maid who reminded Jack of a louder, more forceful Mrs. Jacobs, appeared on the front steps. She was a heavy set woman but seemed to get around well enough, shuffling down the steps and only slightly out of breath when she stopped. Oh Mr. Webster, I'm so glad you and Miss Fanny are home and safe. Come inside, it's much too hot. Annabelle! As Mrs. Swan ushered the Webster's inside, leaving Tom, Race and Jack to return to their work, Annabelle peaked her head out into the sun, an apron tied around her waist and the length of her hair braided off her face. Annabelle, there you are. Will you grab Fanny's things from inside the carriage. There, be a dear
Annabelle slipped past the Websters but not before hearing Fanny's nasty comment. She turned, but said nothing, and only Tom, Race and Jack saw her tongue slip from between her lips. She jumped down the steps and into the carriage, returning with a handful of fabrics. She called, beckoning him over to the carriage. Can you place that Race and Jack watched as Tom reached inside for what seemed to be the last loose accessory, an elaborate hat, feathers and all.
Annabelle cried, trying to dart away when Tom placed the hat atop her head, But she feared dropping any of the delicate silk and satin fabric. I hate you. She said, although jokingly and while trying to blow one of the large feathers out of where it had drooped in front of her face.
Jack was about to turn when she called his name. Are you ready for your lesson tonight?
He nodded, pushing the accusing feather out of her face. If I'm not asleep, then I'm all yours. His friendliness seemed to work and as Annabelle skipped up the stairs she flashed the three a energetic smile.
Tom was ahead of them, already at the edge of the field when Race spoke to Jack. I'm surprised Kelly he paused to gain Jack's interest. Three days it took. That's a new record. I mean, you'se usually head ova heels for a goil by now. Jack began to protest but Race held up a hand. I agree, taking it slow is the way to go. Annabelle seems to be a handful, even for someone like yourself. His smirk ended the conversation and the two of them returned to their work, Jack's thoughts mulling on the last pretty face he'd seen.
A number of circumstances led to Fanny's dinner invitation being postponed and only the princess herself was truly disappointed. Annabelle, after hearing of the proposition, was ordered by her mother to scrap the turkey and begin boiling lobsters. She could tell her mother was stressed, pleasing Fanny took all of one's concentration, so when Rose waddled into the kitchen intent on helping, Mrs. Mooring had two things to fret over. It wasn't long before Rose's sudden activity led to false contractions and seeing her sisters often pleasant features twist in such pain made Annabelle yearn to be one of those steaming lobsters.
Quickly Rose was moved back to the Mooring household, her mother right by her side to try to soothe her daughter's pain as best as possible. That left Annabelle in the kitchen, trying to prepare the first class meal that was expected even with Mrs. Swan's antics leading towards possible disaster. When Grandfather finally opened the side screen door, wringing his hands nervously, Annabelle was in the middle of stamping out the fire that had sprung onto the back of Mrs. Swan's dress.
She had already finished the side dishes to accompany the lobster, waiting only for the beasts themselves to be ready when she got word that her father and brother were attending an injured horse at a nearby farm, unable to make dinner, and that Letty's cold from the previous morning had transformed into a raging fever. Her mother was a ball of distress and Annabelle's presence was requested immediately.
She left Mrs. Swan to tell the Webster's the sad news of the evening, catching Tom, Jack and Race on their way back from the fields. Jack and Race were obviously relieved to hear that no fancy dinner was scheduled while Tom bellowed at the fact he hadn't been summoned upon Rose's contractions.
The whole evening was a nightmare, Jack and Race distancing themselves so as to not be in the way. Eventually they stole out of the house unnoticed, exploring the woods on Webster's property and returning late in the night. Only then were the lights in the Mooring household out and peace returned to the family.
The next day brought similar work for Jack and Race, their late night adventures making them groggy and clumsy with the tools. Soon they were sent to the barn to help Mr. Mooring unload grain into the horse's stall. As soon as you finish this, you can have your lesson Jack. Mr. Mooring explained, patting Jack on the back before disappearing into the sun.
Roz worked alongside the two and soon the task was done, Jack's arms burning from the chore. As the three made their way out to the ring, Annabelle already perched along the fence, Race mumbled about how numb his arms were.
Annabelle joked, ducking Race's lousy attempt to cuff her face. Inside the stall waited a patient Macy—Jack recognized the horse's honey coloring—and an older looking horse. Both were munching on the generous grass alongside the edge of the fence, Macy's reins now dangling around her head, the other horse wearing only a saddle, no bridle.
Annabelle clicked her teeth, calling the attention of the horses. Macy's all ready for you boys. Roz grabbed at the reins, pulling Macy's head up and leading her out of the ring. Annabelle smiled at Jack, still leaning lazily against the fence, a longer lead rope in her hands. You and I got old Sammy here, slowest, laziest horse in the stables.
Hearing the other boys chuckle to themselves while leaving with Macy, Jack straightened his shoulders. C'mon, give me a challenge or sometin. He jumped the fence, landing right next to Annabelle but on the inside of the ring. She turned around also, slipping underneath the wooden planks because of her skirt.
Ah, Sammy's got himself a kick, don't worry. She clicked the lead rope onto part of the saddle, walking towards the center of the ring while letting out the length of the rope. Get on up when you're ready.
Jack stood on the outside of Sammy, the horse himself still nibbling on the grass below, and prayed he'd make in on the first try. Gripping the saddle and placing his left foot in the stirrups he pulled up and settled into the saddle. Annabelle whistled from the center of the ring, nodding approval as Jack shifted his weight. Where are the reins? He asked.
Don't need
Well, how am I gonna steer? Annabelle tugged on the rope and Sammy began to walk around the ring, following the well-worn path around the edge. At the sudden start, Jack lurched forward, gripping the horn of the saddle with both hands.
Annabelle suppressed her laugh, but a tight smile spread across her lips. Leave the steering to me. She watched as Jack became accustomed to the motion atop the saddle, his hips moving to match Sammy's. After a few minutes of this routine, Jack looking bored as all hell, she called out to him, How bout we try something a little faster.
Please! I'm growing weeds up here.
She laughed again at his confidence and clicked her teeth again, starting Sammy to a trot. Again Jack reached for the horn, his body not adjusting smoothly to the new rhythm of Sammy's. After watching Jack bounce around haphazardly, Annabelle offered some advice. Arms out to the side Kelly, that'll help you catch your balance. Jack did as he was told, almost slipping off the side. Annabelle jogged up to Sammy, stopping the horse for a moment to explain. You need to move with the horse, Jack. He cocked his head to the side in confusion. He trots on a two beat so you need to move like that also. My Pa taught us to say the alphabet in our head, straightening on each letter, try that.
She ran back into the middle of the ring before tugging Sammy to a start again. Arms still open wide, Jack tried the whole bouncing tecnique but with no result. Annabelle shook her head, stopping Sammy again and chuckling to herself. Jack hunched over Sammy's neck, resting his head in defeat. Is that it for today? He asked.
Annabelle rested her hand on Sammy's neck, watching as the horse greedily consumed the grass beneath him. Nah, you're worse than I thought. Jack mumbled a protest but it was obvious Annabelle wasn't paying much attention to him. Straining her neck as she searched the surrounding area she spotted Tom, she called, waving him over with one hand while holding Sammy, Jack still sitting atop, with the other. Can you help me for a sec?
he slipped underneath the fence, running a hand on Sammy as he walked behind the horse. How you doing Kelly? First lesson and all.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. She has me saying the alphabet. Are you sure she's as good as she says she is. He finished in a stage whisper.
Tom laughed, both men watching Annabelle as she adjusted a strap on Sammy's belly and muttered under her breath. Ah, you're still on trotting, huh? Annabelle stood, rolling her eyes as she walked to the other side of the horse, knocking Jack's foot out of the stirrups. He obeyed, returning his attention to Tom. Want me to lead?
Yea...scoot back Kelly.
Jack did as he was told, not sure what was happening until Annabelle put her own foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up, sliding in front of him on the saddle. Woah—wait, what are you doing?
It's a training technique, Jack. Tom explained, walking backwards into the circle and standing where Annabelle had been. Just like the alphabet trick.
While Annabelle shifted in the saddle, feet hanging beside his but not in any set of stirrups, Jack looked around bewildered at the position he was now in. So close to her, he tried to control the blush filling his cheeks. Making it worse was Annabelle's innocence, the fact that she had no idea her presence was affecting him so much. He groaned inwardly as she reached back and grabbed his hands, placing them on her hips. Just follow me. With those three words as his only instructions she nudged Sammy to a start, Tom's persistence moving Sammy to a trot. And just like before Jack began to bounce awkwardly in the saddle, the only steady movement his hands placed on Annabelle's waist. This drew his attention and he focused on the way she moved with the horse.
How's he look, Tom? She asked, her hands out to the side like Jack's had been. Tom nodded his head to say they looked fine, Sammy's trot now starting a second time around the ring. Jack followed Annabelle's guidance and soon they were moving easily through the motion. She could feel his body mimicking hers but she wanted to see just how comfortable he sat. With no explanation to Jack she slipped off to the side, hitting the ground hard and stumbling slightly. She didn't seemed fazed, joining Tom in the middle and clapping her hands at Jack's improvement.
His smile widened at her and Tom's approval, his arms now out like wings, head back as he moved with the horse. The cheering called the attention of all nearby, Mr. Mooring one of the few who leaned against the fence to watch. He joined in with the clapping, climbing the fence when Sammy was allowed to stop.
Nice work, Jack. Mr. Mooring's praise drew a bright smile from Jack as he hopped off the horse. You're a quick learner.
Annabelle's a great teacher, sir. Jack replied, turning to address Annabelle but finding the spot empty. A moment later he spotted her at the edge of the ring, talking with Race and Roz.
Tom offered Mr. Mooring the reins, claiming that he was long overdue for a visit to Rose. Well, she loves her horses. Mr. Mooring explained, rubbing Sammy's coat roughly to shake off the dirt that had collected. He watched Jack's gaze directed soley on Annabelle and chuckled. Kloppman told me bout you son. Jack's silence encouraged Mr. Mooring to continue. Said you're held in high esteem among those boys back home. That the strike made you a hot commodity, but for some reason he liked you better before the strike Jack smiled to himself remembering the first time Kloppman had told him the same thing. said you were a little less serious. Not as many burdens.
Jack turned back to Annabelle, Roz and Race. Can't help life's burdens, sir. I know dat much.
Nah, you're right. You can't change what's happened in the past He turned Sammy in the direction of the gate. But you can move on. Handing Jack the reins, Mr. Mooring held the young man's eye. Not like the girls you're used to, huh? Jack didn't trust his voice, surprised that he'd been so easy to read. Yea, thought so. Pulls you right in, no use fightin it. Although I'll tell ya, in the past she's had her share He paused upon seeing Jack's embarrassed blush. You probably don't wanna hear about her past suitors, though, do ya.
No sir, not particularly. Realizing that he'd admitted some sort of attraction to his daughter, Jack balked at Mr. Mooring's easy smile. I mean—well, sir, not that I'd be doing and courting or nothing.
Mr. Mooring laughed heartily, drawing the attention of his children and Race. He patted Sammy's hind firmly before starting towards his home. Just tell her that Sammy needs to be groomed and fed. And that he mother expects all of you for supper.
Jack nodded in obedience, taking Sammy with him as he joined Roz, Annabelle and Race, catching the end of their conversation about Roz's improvement. We've been training her all wrong. Roz explained, Macy exploring his back pocket with her snout. This new idea that all the jockey's are trying, starting the horse off fast, I didn't think it'd work with Macy but what's really important is right at the end you gotta let the other horse gain a little, just let Macy sense her coming and bam Roz slid his hands together, one shooting out in front of the other in a demonstration of Macy's sprinting ability. She'll take off, pushing in a whole new gear.
And you tried that today, at the track? Roz nodded affirmatively to Annabelle's question. Geez, what I'd give to ride a horse like that.
Silence settled among the group, Roz and Race paying more attention to Jack's appearance than to Annabelle's wishing. How bout you Cowboy, Race smirked, How were your lessons?
Jack cleared his throat, giving Race a looked that threatened punishment later on if he slipped anything of what he'd seen. Great actually, already got trotting over with.
Ah, the benefits of a personal teacher. Roz swung himself through the fence, teasing Jack unbeknownst to Annabelle.
He's really doing swell, She remarked, Sammy's mouth searching her hand for some sort of treat.
While Roz and Race chuckled to themselves, Jack slipped Sammy's lead rope to Annabelle. Your father said that he needs to be groomed and fed and that supper is almost ready.
Annabelle hopped up into the saddle, turning Sammy with the single rope. She began towards the gate, stopping when Jack didn't follow. C'mon Kelly, don't think you're getting off this easily.
Yea Jack, why don't you just hop on up there, it'll be faster. Jogging to catch up, Jack shot back a warning glare, causing Race and Roz to break into a new round of laughter.
He enterted the barn shortly after Annabelle's dismount. She gathered a few tools, the grooming brushes, the rake for the stall, a couple of carrots for Sammy's enjoyment, before shoving them in Jack's hands. Roz showed you how the other night, right? Jack nodded, picking the grooming brush first and slipping in on his hand.
she shut the stable behind her, resting her chin in her hands, elbows on the ledge. Have fun then. And before Jack could protest she had disappeared from the barn, Sammy's snout rooting in his back pocket for the carrots she'd slipped there.
