At Risk

Chapter 8

I decided to do an extra long chapter since I haven't been updating lately!  Hope you enjoy!  Please vote and comment what you think!

I ran through the barn with one thing on my mind, this tack box.  I was currently walking around in the loft looking for the red paint, which I hoped we had.  After 20 minutes of searching, I accepted that there was none and walked over to Cody's stall.

"How you hangin' in there baby D?" I asked and she shot me a look of annoyance.  I huffed and rolled my eyes, muttering "stupid horse" as I walked over to Missy's stall and got her out.  Since Cody broke the clips in the aisle of the barn, I just tied Missy to her stall with her lead rope.  

I tacked her in my old western saddle and paired it with a blue saddle pad.  I used her only western bridle and then walked her out of the barn, where I used a brick to get on her.  I warmed her up in a couple slow circles and we headed towards town to get some paint.  We were passed by two trucks and before long we were in town.  I pushed Missy to a trot and made the turn into the hardware store.  I tied her and walked inside.

"Kendall!  It's been awhile since I've seen you in here!" Jerry, the store-owner, greeted me warmly. "What can I do for you?" He asked after giving me a once over, presumably to see if I was in here for any obvious reason.

"I need some bright red paint.  Some that wouldn't stain anything or hurt the horses." I explained and he walked over to the paint counter.

"Who on Earth for?  Y'all aren't painting that barn, are you?" He looked skeptical as he searched for the paint I needed.

"Nope.  For my new horse's tack box.  Prince died of unknown causes a couple days ago and I need to have Dakota ready by fair." I explained, trying to avoid telling him which horse I actually got.

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that.  However, I didn't know the Hart's were selling Dakota.  How's he doin'?"  

"Not that Dakota.  Different horse, but the Hart's Dakota is just fine.  I saw him last week.  I believe Lexi is showing him which would mean you should see both of them at fair together in the same class."

"Are you eventing this year?  Dakota is a jumper." He raised one eyebrow at me.

"Sure am.  That's what you do when you have a 17.3 horse." I said as he pulled out two cans of paint.

"Christ, Kendall.  You sure you should be eventing with a 17.3  horse?  Doesn't seem like your thing." He said as he pulled a can opener out for the paint.

"Well, I'm making it my thing." I tried to switch the direction the conversation was going.

"Well, I got primary red," he showed me a beautiful, flashy paint and quickly secured the lid again and opening a much deeper, mysterious red, "and this was a paint I mixed up but the lady didn't like, so you could probably get a bargain price on it."

"Can I have both?" I asked, mentally mapping this box out in my head.

"Certainly.  A bit of an afterthought here, but where'd you get this horse?" Jerry asked and I cringed.

"Kickin' K Ranch," I said, but explained when he sent me a quizzical look.  "The ranch where that crazy horse was at." I said quietly.

"That ranch?  Passion, was it?  Wicked horse.  I wouldn't trust that horse even in a halter show." He shuddered when I nodded, getting offended at his comment. "She still there or did they finally kill her?"

"No, she's not there.  Or dead." I said, clenching my teeth as we walked back to the register.

"Who was crazy enough to home that horse!?  Rip your life apart, that's what she'll do," at that moment, I lost the little bit of self control I had left.