The Earl's Childe (19 page)

He saw her and, yanking on the reins again, said, “I've got this.”

“Excuse me?” Mum narrowed her eyes.

“I mean, I've got this, ma'am. I'm good for the ring.”

“Have you ridden this horse before, Maximilian?”

Maximilian. He even had one of those fancy, rich, noble-person names. I totally felt the “blue-collar American” that Mum liked to call herself in my blood. Dad always said I took after her.

“Yes, ma'am. We wouldn't have kept him if I couldn't.” Maximilian spoke through gritted teeth, trying to hide how hard he was clenching the reins as his horse danced in place.

“And is he normally like this when you ride him?” Mum raised an eyebrow, and I detected a definite edge to her voice.

“No, ma'am. I think he's just nervous with all the other horses. Just give him a minute. Let me work him out in the ring, please?”

Mum nodded to Coach David, who was also frowning, but he opened the gate to the ring.

Maximilian and his horse jigged their way in.

After a few cantering laps, the two slowed down and stopped in the middle. Maximilian nodded at my mum and the coaches. While the horse wasn't dancing so much, it seemed to almost vibrate with repressed energy. Coach David came into the ring and started giving commands.

I'd dismounted Chixie once my test was over, leaving her in one of the side paddocks with the water trough; it would be a while before the rest of the students got through with their tests. I edged near the small group of Lily and her friends, who gathered just behind Mum and Coach Krissy.

“His form's decent,” Coach Krissy murmured with a frown. “He's not a new rider. He must have shown before.”

“Mmn,” Mum said with an even deeper frown.

“He's kind of cute, too,” added Livy.

“That horse is going to explode any second.” Jared shook his head. Lily nodded.

“He's fighting too much,” Chris said. “But he's good at hiding it.”

“He's not going to keep it together much—” Sara-Not-Beth's observation was cut off by the very truth of her statement. As Maximilian turned a tight serpentine, his horse started bucking, charging for the gate.

For Maximilian's part, he stayed on.

“One rein stop!” shouted David, as Mum called, “Pull up your right rein!”

Maximilian was trying to follow the shouts. Mum launched herself over the fence to join Coach David when Maximilian started hitting the horse around the neck and shoulders with the crop as his other hand clutched the reins. His face was a mask of anger trying to hide total fear. I couldn't help but feel badly for him. But I rather wanted to smack him, myself.

“No! No! Both hands on the reins! Use your one-rein halt!” Mum and Coach David, were both shouting.

After finally dropping the crop—I couldn't tell if it was accidentally or on purpose—Maximilian got both hands back on the reins and yanked one almost to his horse's butt. He clearly knew how to do the maneuver but had forgotten in his panic. Mum was at the boy's hip in a flash. She grabbed the reins, fixed him with one of her particularly fearsome looks, and commanded, “Get off the horse.”

“I'm fine—” Red rose to his cheeks, which had been a ghostly pale.

“Get. Off. The. Horse. Make me say it again and you can pack your things up today.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

As he dismounted, Mum shot the horse a look, right in the eye. It jerked to nip, but she yanked the reins with a “No!”

David came up behind Mum, wrinkling his nose as if he smelled something odd, while she made the horse disengage, crossing its back legs in a circle several times. Maximilian hovered near her.

“He's not intact.” David frowned.

“No, he's a gelding,” Maximilian said. “I read the rules!”

“Rules also say no green broke horses.”

“He's not green broke! He's done shows before. The man who delivered him showed us his records. And he was perfectly fine for me when I rode him before. He just gets bossy sometimes, and you have to show him who's in charge.”

Mum stopped dead still. “You try to show another horse who's in charge by beating him in my sight, not only are you going home, but I'm pressing charges. Do you understand me?”

Maximilian's eyes grew twice their size and his jaw dropped. “I—

Mum shot him her death glare.

He dropped his head. We could hardly hear him say, “I understand.”

“How old is he?” David asked just as Mum asked, “When did you get him?”

“His records show him as twelve. I got him last month. But I've ridden him almost every day.”

“And how often has he acted like this?” asked David.

“Never like this, sir, I swear.”

“What's his name?”

“Son of Storms. Or Stormy.” Gingerly, Maximilian reached out one hand and rubbed Stormy's neck.

“Appropriate name,” David remarked.

Mum pursed her lips, staring at the horse's face. “I remember getting all the vet reports, but that's twenty-some horses,” she said. “Refresh my memory, Maximilian. No hoof or joint issues? Did he nearly take out the vet when he went to take blood?”

“They tried twitching him, but had to sedate him. He needed about four times the sedative for his size. The vet was worried, but there didn't seem to be any problems.”

“David, can you and Krissy finish evaluating the rest of the students? I want to round pen Stormy, here. And then have Maximilian give it a try.”

Coach David raised an eyebrow at her, but nodded. “We can. You gonna be all right?”

“Yeah. I'm taking Heather with me, too, since she's already tested.”

Me? Why me? I shook my head, but went for the gate. “Grab me a rope and a lunge whip, Heather,” she told me. “And meet me in the
far
round pen.”

“Yes, ma'am.” I did as she asked. When I got to the round pen, Stormy's saddle and pad were already on the fence. I handed her both the line and the whip.

“I thought you didn't beat horses,” Maximilian said lowly.

“I don't. Whips are noisy, and a crack is different from pounding on the crest and withers, where you can do some serious damage and freak the hell out of the poor animal. Got it?” Her voice was sharp and Maximilian winced. “You two stand over there. Don't actually lean on the fence, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am,” we both agreed.

Once we were outside the pen and
not
leaning, Mum reached up and removed the bridle. Stormy spun his butt towards her, but Mum stomped, shouted, and snapped the whip beside her. He stopped and stared at her.

Throwing the coiled rope over her shoulder, she stomped at him again, cracking the whip to her side. “Go on!
Shiooo!
She whistled angrily. The horse stepped away a little, lowering his head not in submission, but squaring off.

Almost like a dog.

Wait a minute! I knew this dance…

“Go!” She cracked the whip at her side, waving her other hand towards him and stomping. “Go!”
Crack!
“Go!”
Crack!
“Go!”
Crack!
She stomped closer, moving faster. Finally, he started and jumped away from her. “Move it! Hee-yah! Move it!” Her eyes were on his eyes, her shoulders and arms were up, making her seem more imposing, until he ran away from her. Really. Really. Fast.

Unnaturally fast.

It took almost half an hour for Stormy to start to relax. Mum relaxed her stance and slowed her walk. Taking her lead, the horse turned more into her, spiraling closer. Finally, Mum turned partly away from him, averting her eyes somewhat. I held my breath and heard Maximilian do the same beside me. Stormy lowered his head, keeping the rest of his body submissive, licking and chewing as he approached Mum. She held out her hand, and when he was within reach, she ran it up his nose and to his forehead. I let out my breath as she continued petting him.

With a nod, Mum removed her hand and started walking around the ring. Stormy followed like a puppy. A ginormous, black puppy, but hardly the angry monster he had been earlier. She walked over to us.

After a glance to me, she addressed Maximilian. “Did you see what I did?”

“You made him run until he was tired?”

Mum shook her head.

“I made him run from me until he was willing to negotiate. Horses are prey animals; they assume everyone is out to eat them. But your horse is something special. He's very smart and much more aggressive than other horses. You have to prove to him that little, human you is smart enough, strong enough, and worthy enough for him to follow.”

Maximilian looked at her with partial understanding. “Strong enough?”

“Yep. Strong enough.” She tapped her head. “Here, as much as anywhere else. I'll show you…”

I waited, alone, while Mum explained everything she did and why, then left Maximilian in the ring with the whip. “I'll be right here.” She waited at the gate, motioning me over.

“What do you think?” she asked softly.

“What do you mean, what do I think?”

She just gave me a
look
, then shouted into the ring. “Get bigger! Make more noise, wave your arms!”

Maximilian, for his part, followed Mum's instructions, getting Stormy to run to the edge of the ring. He continued, similar in posture to Mum.

I sighed. “Stormy kind of acts like Ermie.”

Mum nodded. “And he smells a bit like brine.”

“You think…?”

“Not entirely. Definitely not. Still more horse. But I'll be curious what Ermie says to us tonight.”

“Why didn't he say anything last night? Or this morning when I fed him?”

“Turn him around, Maximilian!” Mum shouted.

“You can call me Max, ma'am,” he said as he stomped his foot towards where Stormy was running and switched the whip in his hands, cracking it so the horse switched direction.

“Good job, Max!” Mum said, then added for me, “Because Stormy only got here at breakfast. They paid a transporter who got lost or something.”

“Oh.”

We didn't say much more because Mum moved closer to the gate to better coach Max. Eventually, the two got to the point where Stormy was following Max around like he did Mum. A smile lit up his face and his eyes, which now looked almost indigo in the filtered sunlight of the cloudy day.

“Now, let's see how he is for you tacking him up. Just the saddle and pad, though.”

Stormy stood mostly still for the tacking. The one time he got dancy, Mum had Max make him disengage.

When she pulled out her cell phone to check the time, my stomach concurred with her declaration of lunchtime.

“The indoor ring should be clear. Cut through that and toss Stormy back in his stall. I want to check in with David and Krissy before everyone goes in. Right, guys?”

I nodded, walking along the other side of Stormy, who only needed Max to give him a gentle tug now and then to keep him from snatching grass as we cut through the fields. After Mum left, my stomach gave another little twist, but not from hunger. I glanced around nervously, realizing it was just Max, a possibly-part-kelpie, and me, by ourselves, with no weapons or anything to protect us. What about the red caps Ermie had sensed? Would they come deep into our property? I could hear the rest of the students not that far away, as well as random sheep, cock crows, songbirds, and peafowl cries. If I remembered right, things got silent when something foul was on the hunt. Creepy silent.

Stormy seemed much more mellow now. And horses, like all animals, have a kind of second sense. If we were in danger, he'd be nervous.

“So, why did your Mum want to bring you along? Heather… it's Heather, right?”

I must've jumped when Max spoke to me, because he chuckled and ducked his head so he could see me around Stormy's arching neck.

“Did I spook you?”

“I was just thinking, sorry. And yeah, Heather.” Some part of my brain was working reasonably well, though, because I managed to follow that up with, “I've got a new horse that I'm working with, kinda like Stormy, so I figure Mum thought I'd get something out of watching her and you work with him.”

“Oh! Cool. The thoroughbred you were riding? I mean, she looked good out there. You would have likely placed if it were a show.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. I slowed my steps to scratch Stormy's neck and hide what I figured was a pink face. “Thanks. But, um, no. Chixie's my dad's horse. She's been in movies and stuff. My guy… Well, let's just say Mum doesn't exactly want him with a bunch of other kids and horses yet.”

Max blew out a low whistle. “He's that bad? Why'd you get him?”

I laughed despite myself. “It…just kinda happened. He found me.”

With a warm laugh, Max said, “Don't I know! Stormy just came to me.” I heard him scratching up the horse's neck and to his ear. “He was a gift from…” Max paused. When he continued, his voice was softer, a little guarded. “He just arrived in a trailer, and Mum and I had to sign for him. We got all his papers and stuff from the man who'd brought him, who worked for the old owner. And that was that.”

“Someone just sent you a horse for a gift?”

I couldn't see Max's face well, but I imagined it was uncomfortable from the tone of his voice. “Yes.”

“He
is
gorgeous,” I said, respecting his unspoken wish not to talk about who had gifted him Stormy.

“That he is.”

We resumed walking without speaking as the fields sang, baaed, and crowed around us.

“It's beautiful out here,” Max finally said. “Your family's lucky to have this land.”

His comment caught me off guard again. “We are…but, you must have land, too. Isn't your dad the Earl of…” Crap, I couldn't remember, which must look really rude.

“Perthshire. Yes.” Max didn't seem to mind. “But my mother and I spend most of our time in Perth. We have a house there.” He left it at that, and I let him. His mother and him, not his dad. Enough said.