Post by syrinx on Jan 18, 2008 12:38:13 GMT -5
Too Little, Too Much
By Syrinx
Rating: PG
just reposting this. Smile it's part of my Gravity Series, sequel to Foundations.
Number 1: Came Calling
It was hot and unbearably humid in Kentucky during the summer, and the first week of July was only a taste of the heat yet to come. Morning works at Townsend Acres were drawing to a close, and the sun was already high on the horizon. Ashleigh Griffen felt a hot trail of sweat trickle down the side of her face, accentuating how miserably hot and dirty she felt. Wiping away the dampness on her face, Ashleigh gave the excited chestnut colt beneath her a pat on the neck and waited for instructions.
“Let’s get in a good two mile jog,” Charlie Burke told her from the rail. “I don’t want the colt to get too ahead of himself today, so Sam will have him on a line with Dominator. Get them both warmed up over one lap and then do the next two nice and collected. No playing and no speed; just jog ‘em.”
Ashleigh nodded her understanding, then flicked her eyes quickly to curiously give the two men next to Charlie a once over. Brad Townsend stood close to the rail, arms authoritatively crossed over his chest and dark eyes pinned to the chestnut beneath Ashleigh. Next to him stood Stewart Hollowell, a well-known English horse owner. Over the past ten years he had won the Epsom Derby three times, as well as several other extremely prestigious races in England. He was a hot name in English racing, and his presence unnerved Ashleigh to no end.
“All right,” Ashleigh nodded to Samantha, whom turned the big bay gelding and trotted out next to her. Wonder’s Pride extended into a canter halfway around the track, his copper mane rising and falling to his rhythm.
“What do you think about Hollowell?” Samantha asked finally, not able to contain her curiosity.
“My bet is he’s another Myron Yeakel,” Ashleigh replied, referring to the New York-based owner that had been interested in buying Pride from Townsend Acres earlier in the year.
“But I thought Mr. Townsend wasn’t going to sell,” Samantha said, keeping Dominator close to Pride, whom was tethered to the gelding with a lead line.
“So did I,” Ashleigh responded grimly, letting Pride launch into a slow gallop. Samantha cued Dominator as well, keeping him anchored to the rail with Pride tugging on the line. Ashleigh was already standing in the stirrups, using her whole body to keep the chestnut in check. As they had progressed with Pride’s training it had become increasingly clear that the colt needed a firm hand during works. Jogs were especially difficult on riders, as the colt liked to haul his head down and into the bridle in an attempt to move faster.
Ashleigh could feel her arms begin to ache, but she had to smile a little at Pride’s eagerness. He was large and fit for his age, using all his power to pour on the speed. Thankfully Samantha was there with Dominator, continually reeling the chestnut in.
The pair galloped through two laps of the training oval, coming to a sweaty stop in front of Charlie. The older man only nodded and gave them a gruff comment of approval. Brad and Stewart Hollowell were discussing something further off, beyond earshot. Ashleigh rode Pride off the track and leapt out of the saddle, pulling the helmet off her head and running a hand through her sweaty dark hair.
“Do you know what that’s all about?” she asked Charlie as the two men walked off to the training complex.
“Looks like we have another buyer,” Charlie replied, taking off his felt hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
“What do you mean another buyer?” Samantha asked as she jumped off of Dominator. “Mr. Townsend said that his deals had gone through. There’s no reason to sell anymore.”
“There wasn’t then,” Charlie said bluntly. “Seems like young Townsend has different ideas. Times are still tight around here, and the past few months haven’t been too kind to the farm. Rumor has it that a few banks have come calling.”
Ashleigh frowned as they led the horses back up the main training barn, silent in thought as Samantha kept coming up with questions.
“Don’t lose your head about it, missy,” Charlie finally said as they walked into the dim light of the barn. It was a momentary break from the humidity. Charlie pushed his hat back on his head and frowned in the direction of the barn office. “The colt hasn’t been sold yet.”
Number 2: On A Daily Basis
The mare paddock was typically one of the calmest places on the farm. Now, however, Ashleigh wouldn’t characterize the pasture as calm. In July most of the foals were old enough to roam from their mothers and race each other across the thick Kentucky bluegrass. In no more than a month these foals would be weaned, making the entire breeding complex at Townsend Acres a screaming fit.
Ashleigh was leading Wonder back from the pasture for evening feed and the petite chestnut plodded along next to her, showing no hint of her excitable racehorse days. Next to her Samantha led the mare’s honey chestnut colt, temporarily named Wonder Boy until Ashleigh thought up something better, keeping one hand on the foal’s neck and the other firmly on the lead rope. Wonder swung her head periodically, checking to make sure her son was still by her side.
“I can’t believe it,” Samantha was saying as they entered the barn. “Remind me never to trust another man’s word again.”
Ashleigh chuckled, patting Wonder on the neck thoughtfully as they led mother and son into their open stall. “I’m sure Mr. Townsend doesn’t want to sell,” she said to Samantha. “He was so relieved back in the spring when his deals didn’t fall through.”
“I know,” Samantha sighed, hanging up the halters and lead ropes on the pegs outside the stall. “But what if this time things are different? I don’t want to be here if Wonder and her foals aren’t here.”
“Your dad works here,” Ashleigh reminded her, picking up Fleet Goddess’ halter and handing Samantha the smaller halter hanging next to it before they set off again for the mares.
“Still,” Samantha scowled. “I won’t want to have anything to do with the farm if there’s nothing worth while to work with. No way am I going to deal with Brad Townsend on a daily basis without Pride and Princess here.”
Ashleigh nodded, feeling the same way. They collected Fleet Goddess and her foal, a tiny dark bay filly they were calling Precocious after her inquisitive nature, and walked back up to the barn.
“There’s always the Keeneland sale this month,” Ashleigh said. “Maybe Brad has something up his sleeve.”
“Like selling every talented horse on the farm?” Samantha asked sarcastically.
“Maybe,” Ashleigh frowned, instantly thinking of Townsend Princess, Wonder’s yearling filly.
Ashleigh patted Fleet Goddess on the neck. The dark bay mare danced along next to her foal, still filled with youthful exuberance. The mare was only four years old, and had only been retired to the breeding shed after an unfortunate accident late in her two-year-old season.
After Wonder had retired, Charlie had purchased Goddess at the Keeneland September Sale, hoping to turn her into their next big name star. Fleet Goddess had been a star, if only for a short while, winning the Frizette Stakes before coming in second in the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Fillies. A small tendon injury pushed her into the breeding shed, where she was bred cheaply to Mike Reese’s stallion, Jazzman. Precocious was the result.
Slipping the mare and Precocious into their stall, Ashleigh paused for a moment as Samantha went to measure out the feed. Fleet Goddess nuzzled her filly for a moment before coming to the stall door and letting loose an announcing whinny. Wonder came to her stall door and let loose one in return.
Smiling bleakly, Ashleigh rubbed Fleet Goddess on her forehead and wondered what it must feel like to make all the decisions.
Number 3: Starting
There were two training barns set next to each other like twins. The closest to the training oval held all the regularly racing horses and the one a few yards away, closer to the paddocks, held the yearlings and underdeveloped two-year-olds. The second training barn was organized chaos at this time of year, when yearlings were being introduced to the fundamentals of being handled and ridden by humans.
Ashleigh stood in the aisle with Charlie in the morning after works, looking in on Townsend Princess. The coppery chestnut looked back at them with wary deep brown eyes, flaring her nostrils as though she knew what was going to happen next. The dismantled bridle in Ashleigh’s hands and the saddle in Charlie’s were enough to clue her in that her life was about to change drastically.
“Hey, baby doll,” Ashleigh crooned to the filly, taking the first steps up to the stall and slipping inside with the bridle. Charlie stayed on the other side of the stall guard, setting the saddle out of sight of the filly.
They had already tested the bridle and saddle on the filly the day before, with good results. Now they would go over the entire process again, only this time Charlie would lift Ashleigh onto the filly’s back and test how she would take a human’s weight.
Ashleigh slipped the bridle onto Princess’ head, meeting little resistance. Charlie was next with the saddle, and Princess sidled nervously then. Charlie made quick work of the girth, tightening it and stepping back as the filly let out a defensive kick with her hind legs, hooves meeting the wood sides of the stall.
“Better get up there quick,” Charlie told Ashleigh as soon as Princess settled down. The filly still looked like she was about to pop, and Ashleigh couldn’t help but have second thoughts about draping herself over Princess’ back.
“Come on,” Charlie prodded her, motioning to the filly. He held Princess as Ashleigh walked up to the filly’s side, Charlie giving her a boost into the saddle. Instead of swinging her leg over Princess’ back, Ashleigh simply pressed her stomach across the saddle.
There was a second where Princess coiled up, stunned by Ashleigh’s weight. Then the filly moved, skittering across the stall and banging Ashleigh’s legs hard on the wood wall.
Ashleigh let out a pained yelp at the contact, reaching up and clinging to the filly’s mane as Princess moved away from the wall and spun in a tight circle, forcing Charlie to go along with them. Finally Princess came to a stop in the stall, breathing heavily and pressing her ears back, trying to focus on what Ashleigh was doing on her back. Ashleigh took the opportunity to slip down, finding several strands of Princess’ copper mane wound around her fingers.
“Well,” she said breathlessly to Charlie. “That was some ride.”
“You did well, missy,” Charlie said simply. “She’ll be easier to work with tomorrow.” Princess looked at girl and trainer and let out a great breath as though in agreement.
They were busy untacking the filly when Hank strolled by, stopping to watch them with interest.
“You’re starting her up, then?” Hank asked, leaning against the stall doorway.
“Got to start her sometime,” Charlie replied.
“She did pretty well,” Ashleigh said, rubbing the place on her ankle that had gotten knocked against the wall. “Only minor injuries this time out.”
“Huh,” Hank grunted, nodding. “Well, I suppose it’s your time to waste.”
“What do you mean?” Ashleigh asked after a second of regarding Hank, stunned.
“Rumor has it that most of the farm’s yearlings are headed to Keeneland between this month and September. I heard Princess was scheduled to go,” Hank shrugged. “I thought you would have known.”
“Damn lot of rumors flying around,” Charlie said, letting himself out of the stall. Ashleigh followed along, hardly feeling so unconcerned.
Number 4: Nonsense
The bruise from her hectic turn around Princess’ stall left Ashleigh’s ankle a little swollen and tender, forcing her to limp as she walked. Through the course of the day, with dozens of stalls to muck out, tack to clean, aisles to sweep, and horses to groom as they came in from the pastures, Ashleigh found it increasingly painful to move.
The sun was sinking on the horizon, casting a mellow orange light over the entire farm and highlighting the coats of the horses as they grazed. Ashleigh was walking down the yearling paddocks, limping as she went. She was all dried sweat, dirt, and fatigue, but she carried it well and didn’t seem to mind. At the moment all Ashleigh could think about was what her mother was possibly putting together for dinner. She couldn’t wait to get home.
That was when she stopped in her tracks, her eyes catching on Brad further down the line of fences. He was leaning against the fence, his arms crossed over the top plank with his chin resting on his wrists. A beautifully marked bay colt grazed in front of him, occasionally lifting his head to nudge Brad’s elbow playfully before checking the man’s pockets for sweets. Brad didn’t move, letting the yearling colt go grazing on. The orange sun filtered over man and horse, making them shine metallic around the edges.
Ashleigh frowned at the sight of him and forced herself to walk forward. She had so many questions. Rumors were zipping through the farm like lightning, and Ashleigh wasn’t going to fall victim to them. She had the man responsible for most of what was going on in front of her, and she was going to get the truth no matter the sudden rapid beating of her heart.
“Hey,” she said, approaching him. Brad didn’t look at her.
“Griffen,” he greeted, still watching the bay colt.
“So what’s the deal?” she asked, and leaned her shoulder against the fence.
“What do you mean?” he returned, not moving.
“The buyer yesterday morning?” Ashleigh asked. “Stewart Hollowell? The yearlings? Everyone is saying that the farm is sending everything with a notable pedigree and talent to the auctions.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Brad said, evading her scathing glare.
“What does that mean?” Ashleigh asked. “I was told today that Townsend Princess is headed to auction, and I can only assume that Pride is up for sale again with you ferrying Hollowell around.”
“That is the case,” Brad nodded, still watching the big bay.
Ashleigh took a deep breath and tried not to blow up. She didn’t have the authority to blow up. “I thought your father had managed a deal to keep Wonder’s foals on the farm.”
Brad sighed and looked over at her, his face set in hard lines. “Are you ever going to stop whining about what happens to Wonder and her precious children?”
“That’s not fair,” Ashleigh shot at him. “You know Wonder is the only thing keeping me working here.”
“Not Charlie?” Brad asked. “I figured the old man would have retired permanently at this point.”
“Charlie has stayed on for Pride and Princess,” Ashleigh said heatedly.
“More incentive to sell them,” Brad replied sarcastically, smiling a little.
“You’d just love to run us off the farm, wouldn’t you?” Ashleigh said accusingly. “You’d sell Wonder and her foals just to get rid of me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Brad responded darkly. “Dealing with your tantrums is almost part of the job requirement to owning this place.”
“Please,” Ashleigh laughed shortly, irritated by how easy he was taking this argument.
“Look, Griffen,” he said, putting one hand against the fence and turning all the way to face her. “This farm runs on more than Wonder. It runs on money, which is starting to dwindle. Without a spectacular showing at the Keeneland sales this month and in September the farm is going to see a major change in the form of bankruptcy. My major motivation here is to make sure it never sees that.”
“It can’t possibly be that bad,” Ashleigh argued. “Things were tight a few months ago, but the farm got through it. Your father pulled it through without selling half the stock.”
“What is it that you think he does?” Brad asked her, implying something Ashleigh didn’t like. “And I’m not selling half the stock. If I can get things just right, the majority of the animals will stay on the farm. If what I’m sending to the July sale brings back enough to the farm I won’t even send the rest.”
“Where does Princess fall in this timeline, then?” Ashleigh asked, getting another sigh from Brad.
“Here we go again,” Brad rolled his eyes, going back to looking at the bay yearling.
“Would you stop it?” Ashleigh asked, flustered. “I think I have reason to be concerned, not that you would understand that. You aren’t exactly putting your main projects up for sale.”
“Are you kidding?” Brad asked her, suddenly looking at her with enough intensity to make Ashleigh flinch. “Do you see that horse?” he asked, pointing to the bay. “That’s Prince’s half-brother. He’s Three Foot’s yearling. He’s going to the July sale. Realize for one moment – just one – that hauling this farm out of a rut isn’t my perverse way of making sure you don’t get what you want. I’ve made my own sacrifices, Griffen.”
Before Ashleigh could argue back, as she knew Brad could never make such sacrifices, she heard yelling coming from the main training barn. Ashleigh turned, looking back. Brad’s attention was already on the barn, and he was pushing away from the fence and past Ashleigh before she registered that she should follow him.
When they got to the barn, Ashleigh blinked to adjust to the dim light. She could see Charlie sitting on the cement floor, his lower arms resting against his knees. Jilly was kneeling next to him, asking him something Ashleigh couldn’t hear as she pushed past Brad and raced up to them, limping a little due to her ankle.
“What happened?” Ashleigh asked, falling to her knees and putting a hand on Charlie’s arm.
“I don’t know,” Jilly told her. “We were talking about Princess and then he just sank to the floor. It could have been a heart attack, but I can’t be sure. I’ve already got an ambulance coming.”
“That’s nonsense,” Charlie said stubbornly, his breath coming in short rasps.
“It’s not nonsense,” Ashleigh said firmly, keeping her hand on Charlie’s arm and squeezing gently to get her point across. “If you’re hurt you’re going to the hospital. No questions asked.”
Charlie grumbled something else about rubbish and mollycoddling, but Ashleigh held her ground. They sat on the floor of the barn, Jilly and Brad standing silently close by, waiting out the long minutes for the ambulance.
By Syrinx
Rating: PG
just reposting this. Smile it's part of my Gravity Series, sequel to Foundations.
Number 1: Came Calling
It was hot and unbearably humid in Kentucky during the summer, and the first week of July was only a taste of the heat yet to come. Morning works at Townsend Acres were drawing to a close, and the sun was already high on the horizon. Ashleigh Griffen felt a hot trail of sweat trickle down the side of her face, accentuating how miserably hot and dirty she felt. Wiping away the dampness on her face, Ashleigh gave the excited chestnut colt beneath her a pat on the neck and waited for instructions.
“Let’s get in a good two mile jog,” Charlie Burke told her from the rail. “I don’t want the colt to get too ahead of himself today, so Sam will have him on a line with Dominator. Get them both warmed up over one lap and then do the next two nice and collected. No playing and no speed; just jog ‘em.”
Ashleigh nodded her understanding, then flicked her eyes quickly to curiously give the two men next to Charlie a once over. Brad Townsend stood close to the rail, arms authoritatively crossed over his chest and dark eyes pinned to the chestnut beneath Ashleigh. Next to him stood Stewart Hollowell, a well-known English horse owner. Over the past ten years he had won the Epsom Derby three times, as well as several other extremely prestigious races in England. He was a hot name in English racing, and his presence unnerved Ashleigh to no end.
“All right,” Ashleigh nodded to Samantha, whom turned the big bay gelding and trotted out next to her. Wonder’s Pride extended into a canter halfway around the track, his copper mane rising and falling to his rhythm.
“What do you think about Hollowell?” Samantha asked finally, not able to contain her curiosity.
“My bet is he’s another Myron Yeakel,” Ashleigh replied, referring to the New York-based owner that had been interested in buying Pride from Townsend Acres earlier in the year.
“But I thought Mr. Townsend wasn’t going to sell,” Samantha said, keeping Dominator close to Pride, whom was tethered to the gelding with a lead line.
“So did I,” Ashleigh responded grimly, letting Pride launch into a slow gallop. Samantha cued Dominator as well, keeping him anchored to the rail with Pride tugging on the line. Ashleigh was already standing in the stirrups, using her whole body to keep the chestnut in check. As they had progressed with Pride’s training it had become increasingly clear that the colt needed a firm hand during works. Jogs were especially difficult on riders, as the colt liked to haul his head down and into the bridle in an attempt to move faster.
Ashleigh could feel her arms begin to ache, but she had to smile a little at Pride’s eagerness. He was large and fit for his age, using all his power to pour on the speed. Thankfully Samantha was there with Dominator, continually reeling the chestnut in.
The pair galloped through two laps of the training oval, coming to a sweaty stop in front of Charlie. The older man only nodded and gave them a gruff comment of approval. Brad and Stewart Hollowell were discussing something further off, beyond earshot. Ashleigh rode Pride off the track and leapt out of the saddle, pulling the helmet off her head and running a hand through her sweaty dark hair.
“Do you know what that’s all about?” she asked Charlie as the two men walked off to the training complex.
“Looks like we have another buyer,” Charlie replied, taking off his felt hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
“What do you mean another buyer?” Samantha asked as she jumped off of Dominator. “Mr. Townsend said that his deals had gone through. There’s no reason to sell anymore.”
“There wasn’t then,” Charlie said bluntly. “Seems like young Townsend has different ideas. Times are still tight around here, and the past few months haven’t been too kind to the farm. Rumor has it that a few banks have come calling.”
Ashleigh frowned as they led the horses back up the main training barn, silent in thought as Samantha kept coming up with questions.
“Don’t lose your head about it, missy,” Charlie finally said as they walked into the dim light of the barn. It was a momentary break from the humidity. Charlie pushed his hat back on his head and frowned in the direction of the barn office. “The colt hasn’t been sold yet.”
Number 2: On A Daily Basis
The mare paddock was typically one of the calmest places on the farm. Now, however, Ashleigh wouldn’t characterize the pasture as calm. In July most of the foals were old enough to roam from their mothers and race each other across the thick Kentucky bluegrass. In no more than a month these foals would be weaned, making the entire breeding complex at Townsend Acres a screaming fit.
Ashleigh was leading Wonder back from the pasture for evening feed and the petite chestnut plodded along next to her, showing no hint of her excitable racehorse days. Next to her Samantha led the mare’s honey chestnut colt, temporarily named Wonder Boy until Ashleigh thought up something better, keeping one hand on the foal’s neck and the other firmly on the lead rope. Wonder swung her head periodically, checking to make sure her son was still by her side.
“I can’t believe it,” Samantha was saying as they entered the barn. “Remind me never to trust another man’s word again.”
Ashleigh chuckled, patting Wonder on the neck thoughtfully as they led mother and son into their open stall. “I’m sure Mr. Townsend doesn’t want to sell,” she said to Samantha. “He was so relieved back in the spring when his deals didn’t fall through.”
“I know,” Samantha sighed, hanging up the halters and lead ropes on the pegs outside the stall. “But what if this time things are different? I don’t want to be here if Wonder and her foals aren’t here.”
“Your dad works here,” Ashleigh reminded her, picking up Fleet Goddess’ halter and handing Samantha the smaller halter hanging next to it before they set off again for the mares.
“Still,” Samantha scowled. “I won’t want to have anything to do with the farm if there’s nothing worth while to work with. No way am I going to deal with Brad Townsend on a daily basis without Pride and Princess here.”
Ashleigh nodded, feeling the same way. They collected Fleet Goddess and her foal, a tiny dark bay filly they were calling Precocious after her inquisitive nature, and walked back up to the barn.
“There’s always the Keeneland sale this month,” Ashleigh said. “Maybe Brad has something up his sleeve.”
“Like selling every talented horse on the farm?” Samantha asked sarcastically.
“Maybe,” Ashleigh frowned, instantly thinking of Townsend Princess, Wonder’s yearling filly.
Ashleigh patted Fleet Goddess on the neck. The dark bay mare danced along next to her foal, still filled with youthful exuberance. The mare was only four years old, and had only been retired to the breeding shed after an unfortunate accident late in her two-year-old season.
After Wonder had retired, Charlie had purchased Goddess at the Keeneland September Sale, hoping to turn her into their next big name star. Fleet Goddess had been a star, if only for a short while, winning the Frizette Stakes before coming in second in the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Fillies. A small tendon injury pushed her into the breeding shed, where she was bred cheaply to Mike Reese’s stallion, Jazzman. Precocious was the result.
Slipping the mare and Precocious into their stall, Ashleigh paused for a moment as Samantha went to measure out the feed. Fleet Goddess nuzzled her filly for a moment before coming to the stall door and letting loose an announcing whinny. Wonder came to her stall door and let loose one in return.
Smiling bleakly, Ashleigh rubbed Fleet Goddess on her forehead and wondered what it must feel like to make all the decisions.
Number 3: Starting
There were two training barns set next to each other like twins. The closest to the training oval held all the regularly racing horses and the one a few yards away, closer to the paddocks, held the yearlings and underdeveloped two-year-olds. The second training barn was organized chaos at this time of year, when yearlings were being introduced to the fundamentals of being handled and ridden by humans.
Ashleigh stood in the aisle with Charlie in the morning after works, looking in on Townsend Princess. The coppery chestnut looked back at them with wary deep brown eyes, flaring her nostrils as though she knew what was going to happen next. The dismantled bridle in Ashleigh’s hands and the saddle in Charlie’s were enough to clue her in that her life was about to change drastically.
“Hey, baby doll,” Ashleigh crooned to the filly, taking the first steps up to the stall and slipping inside with the bridle. Charlie stayed on the other side of the stall guard, setting the saddle out of sight of the filly.
They had already tested the bridle and saddle on the filly the day before, with good results. Now they would go over the entire process again, only this time Charlie would lift Ashleigh onto the filly’s back and test how she would take a human’s weight.
Ashleigh slipped the bridle onto Princess’ head, meeting little resistance. Charlie was next with the saddle, and Princess sidled nervously then. Charlie made quick work of the girth, tightening it and stepping back as the filly let out a defensive kick with her hind legs, hooves meeting the wood sides of the stall.
“Better get up there quick,” Charlie told Ashleigh as soon as Princess settled down. The filly still looked like she was about to pop, and Ashleigh couldn’t help but have second thoughts about draping herself over Princess’ back.
“Come on,” Charlie prodded her, motioning to the filly. He held Princess as Ashleigh walked up to the filly’s side, Charlie giving her a boost into the saddle. Instead of swinging her leg over Princess’ back, Ashleigh simply pressed her stomach across the saddle.
There was a second where Princess coiled up, stunned by Ashleigh’s weight. Then the filly moved, skittering across the stall and banging Ashleigh’s legs hard on the wood wall.
Ashleigh let out a pained yelp at the contact, reaching up and clinging to the filly’s mane as Princess moved away from the wall and spun in a tight circle, forcing Charlie to go along with them. Finally Princess came to a stop in the stall, breathing heavily and pressing her ears back, trying to focus on what Ashleigh was doing on her back. Ashleigh took the opportunity to slip down, finding several strands of Princess’ copper mane wound around her fingers.
“Well,” she said breathlessly to Charlie. “That was some ride.”
“You did well, missy,” Charlie said simply. “She’ll be easier to work with tomorrow.” Princess looked at girl and trainer and let out a great breath as though in agreement.
They were busy untacking the filly when Hank strolled by, stopping to watch them with interest.
“You’re starting her up, then?” Hank asked, leaning against the stall doorway.
“Got to start her sometime,” Charlie replied.
“She did pretty well,” Ashleigh said, rubbing the place on her ankle that had gotten knocked against the wall. “Only minor injuries this time out.”
“Huh,” Hank grunted, nodding. “Well, I suppose it’s your time to waste.”
“What do you mean?” Ashleigh asked after a second of regarding Hank, stunned.
“Rumor has it that most of the farm’s yearlings are headed to Keeneland between this month and September. I heard Princess was scheduled to go,” Hank shrugged. “I thought you would have known.”
“Damn lot of rumors flying around,” Charlie said, letting himself out of the stall. Ashleigh followed along, hardly feeling so unconcerned.
Number 4: Nonsense
The bruise from her hectic turn around Princess’ stall left Ashleigh’s ankle a little swollen and tender, forcing her to limp as she walked. Through the course of the day, with dozens of stalls to muck out, tack to clean, aisles to sweep, and horses to groom as they came in from the pastures, Ashleigh found it increasingly painful to move.
The sun was sinking on the horizon, casting a mellow orange light over the entire farm and highlighting the coats of the horses as they grazed. Ashleigh was walking down the yearling paddocks, limping as she went. She was all dried sweat, dirt, and fatigue, but she carried it well and didn’t seem to mind. At the moment all Ashleigh could think about was what her mother was possibly putting together for dinner. She couldn’t wait to get home.
That was when she stopped in her tracks, her eyes catching on Brad further down the line of fences. He was leaning against the fence, his arms crossed over the top plank with his chin resting on his wrists. A beautifully marked bay colt grazed in front of him, occasionally lifting his head to nudge Brad’s elbow playfully before checking the man’s pockets for sweets. Brad didn’t move, letting the yearling colt go grazing on. The orange sun filtered over man and horse, making them shine metallic around the edges.
Ashleigh frowned at the sight of him and forced herself to walk forward. She had so many questions. Rumors were zipping through the farm like lightning, and Ashleigh wasn’t going to fall victim to them. She had the man responsible for most of what was going on in front of her, and she was going to get the truth no matter the sudden rapid beating of her heart.
“Hey,” she said, approaching him. Brad didn’t look at her.
“Griffen,” he greeted, still watching the bay colt.
“So what’s the deal?” she asked, and leaned her shoulder against the fence.
“What do you mean?” he returned, not moving.
“The buyer yesterday morning?” Ashleigh asked. “Stewart Hollowell? The yearlings? Everyone is saying that the farm is sending everything with a notable pedigree and talent to the auctions.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Brad said, evading her scathing glare.
“What does that mean?” Ashleigh asked. “I was told today that Townsend Princess is headed to auction, and I can only assume that Pride is up for sale again with you ferrying Hollowell around.”
“That is the case,” Brad nodded, still watching the big bay.
Ashleigh took a deep breath and tried not to blow up. She didn’t have the authority to blow up. “I thought your father had managed a deal to keep Wonder’s foals on the farm.”
Brad sighed and looked over at her, his face set in hard lines. “Are you ever going to stop whining about what happens to Wonder and her precious children?”
“That’s not fair,” Ashleigh shot at him. “You know Wonder is the only thing keeping me working here.”
“Not Charlie?” Brad asked. “I figured the old man would have retired permanently at this point.”
“Charlie has stayed on for Pride and Princess,” Ashleigh said heatedly.
“More incentive to sell them,” Brad replied sarcastically, smiling a little.
“You’d just love to run us off the farm, wouldn’t you?” Ashleigh said accusingly. “You’d sell Wonder and her foals just to get rid of me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Brad responded darkly. “Dealing with your tantrums is almost part of the job requirement to owning this place.”
“Please,” Ashleigh laughed shortly, irritated by how easy he was taking this argument.
“Look, Griffen,” he said, putting one hand against the fence and turning all the way to face her. “This farm runs on more than Wonder. It runs on money, which is starting to dwindle. Without a spectacular showing at the Keeneland sales this month and in September the farm is going to see a major change in the form of bankruptcy. My major motivation here is to make sure it never sees that.”
“It can’t possibly be that bad,” Ashleigh argued. “Things were tight a few months ago, but the farm got through it. Your father pulled it through without selling half the stock.”
“What is it that you think he does?” Brad asked her, implying something Ashleigh didn’t like. “And I’m not selling half the stock. If I can get things just right, the majority of the animals will stay on the farm. If what I’m sending to the July sale brings back enough to the farm I won’t even send the rest.”
“Where does Princess fall in this timeline, then?” Ashleigh asked, getting another sigh from Brad.
“Here we go again,” Brad rolled his eyes, going back to looking at the bay yearling.
“Would you stop it?” Ashleigh asked, flustered. “I think I have reason to be concerned, not that you would understand that. You aren’t exactly putting your main projects up for sale.”
“Are you kidding?” Brad asked her, suddenly looking at her with enough intensity to make Ashleigh flinch. “Do you see that horse?” he asked, pointing to the bay. “That’s Prince’s half-brother. He’s Three Foot’s yearling. He’s going to the July sale. Realize for one moment – just one – that hauling this farm out of a rut isn’t my perverse way of making sure you don’t get what you want. I’ve made my own sacrifices, Griffen.”
Before Ashleigh could argue back, as she knew Brad could never make such sacrifices, she heard yelling coming from the main training barn. Ashleigh turned, looking back. Brad’s attention was already on the barn, and he was pushing away from the fence and past Ashleigh before she registered that she should follow him.
When they got to the barn, Ashleigh blinked to adjust to the dim light. She could see Charlie sitting on the cement floor, his lower arms resting against his knees. Jilly was kneeling next to him, asking him something Ashleigh couldn’t hear as she pushed past Brad and raced up to them, limping a little due to her ankle.
“What happened?” Ashleigh asked, falling to her knees and putting a hand on Charlie’s arm.
“I don’t know,” Jilly told her. “We were talking about Princess and then he just sank to the floor. It could have been a heart attack, but I can’t be sure. I’ve already got an ambulance coming.”
“That’s nonsense,” Charlie said stubbornly, his breath coming in short rasps.
“It’s not nonsense,” Ashleigh said firmly, keeping her hand on Charlie’s arm and squeezing gently to get her point across. “If you’re hurt you’re going to the hospital. No questions asked.”
Charlie grumbled something else about rubbish and mollycoddling, but Ashleigh held her ground. They sat on the floor of the barn, Jilly and Brad standing silently close by, waiting out the long minutes for the ambulance.