Heart and Soul (rewrite)

Chapter Eighteen

Molly unloaded me herself, and settled me in without assistance from any of the barn helpers, of which there seemed to be many. She even patted my shoulder. I decided it was something. After checking my water buckets, adjusting the light sheet I wore, and fluffing my hay one more time, she closed my stall door with a promise to return in the morning. I peered out from behind the bars and took in my new home. A grey mare was across from me, and on my left was a dark bay gelding. On my right, a paint mare. She nickered at me.

"Hey! What's your name? Mine's Crystal, and I'm an eventer. Well, almost an eventer. I'm still working on stadium jumping... and dressage... but I like cross country! My rider's the best, she feeds me carrots and sugar and apples and-"

The mare had spoken all without taking a breath. "Woah!" I interjected, tossing my head. "Slow down! My name's Charm, and I'm a dressage horse."

"Pretty name!" The mare cooed, obviously through a mouthful of hay, though I couldn't see her anymore. Before I could reply the dark bay gelding beside me spoke up.

"Crystal, she's a dressage horse. She's refined, the best of the best. Like me. She doesn't want to talk to a two-bit mud pony."

The paint snorted, and the grey mare glared.

"Well, Scooter Pie," she spat his name out, and I heard him turn around. "She seems pretty damn nice to me, just let her be. Stop stereotyping. If I recall..." A mischievous glint shone in her eyes. "At your last show, you dumped your rider after your walk pirouette. Why was that, again?"

He grumbled. "Dolly..."

"What was that? You got annoyed because she was touching your mouth too much? Because you hate being collected?"

I perked up.

"I hate that too!"

Scooter, as that seemed to be his name, was at the front of his stall in seconds.

"It's the worst! Tiny steps and burning muscles and concentration! I hate it!"

"What are you?" I asked, trying my best to see him.

"I'm a Thoroughbred, off the track."

"Me too!"

We bonded over our shared experiences, although his seemed much kinder than mine. The grey mare had been a polo pony, but was now a hunter, and Crystal hated dressage just as much as I did. The night passed quickly and easily, but all too soon Molly was fitting the saddle on my withers. It was a big, heavy saddle, but a soft eggbutt snaffle helped sway my opinions. Molly led me to a massive indoor, empty this early in the morning, save for a grey haired woman perched on the mounting block.

"Morning, Molly! Is this the new prospect?"

"Third Time's a Charm, registered off the track Thoroughbred, only ever schooled dressage, but she's trained to second level. She has some holes, her shoulder-in is extremely lacking and she tends to come off the contact in upwards transitions and lean for downward, but I think she'll do well. "

The woman nodded, and as Molly mounted and started me out on a loose rein she evaluated my conformation aloud. Molly nodded and hummed in response. After two laps of walk we began a trot circle, still on a relaxed rein. We worked on our bend in both directions, downward transitions, upward transitions, spiraling in, leg yielding out, stretching and collecting, changing direction. We even extended our trot down the long side, although Molly had to struggle to get me back.

By the time we finished I was sweating and blowing, but all Molly gave me was a single, emotionless pat. No cookies after she put me in my stall, no hugs, no rubs, no scratches on my chest. I watched her go, and decided she was the one who needed training.

So began our intensive program. Rides six days a week, a day in one of the several pastures. I gradually came to accept the contact, and even though I hated it I even collected sometimes. Scooter, Dolly, Crystal and I became best friends, but Crystal reminded me of someone... another paint... and a redhead... But I rarely had time to remember. Molly's training was progressing. Slowly, but surely. I would push my head against her, nibble her shoulders, rest my head on her back as she picked out my feet. Sometimes, she even laughed. She was more physical with me now, rubbing my face after the bridle came off or scratching my heart girth, and sometimes she even talked to me.

Five months into my time with Molly saw the grey haired woman, Meredith, standing outside my stall, handing Molly a sheet of paper.

"Sign up for Level one, test two. Do you know it?"

"Yeah, that was as far as I got with Midas."

"Perfect, just pop that in the mail and you're in. I can drive Charm, I'm taking Charlie and Scooter anyway, maybe I can find someone else and fill up the trailer... Anyway! I'd give her a bath on Friday, and keep her in overnight. She'll be fine."

They sorted out the details, and sure enough, Friday saw me in the wash stall, enjoying a thorough bath. Spending the night inside wasn't my favorite thing, and I was itching to roll, but shavings just aren't the same. On Saturday, I was loaded on the trailer next to Scooter. A ten minute drive, and Molly was fighting with me as I spooked at tents and the massive amount of trailers.

Finally, Meredith managed to tie me up, and Molly put the saddle on. As she climbed on my back from a mounting block and began the walk to the warm up ring, I could feel her shaking. The ring was full of people, some fighting with hot horses, others on perfect dressage horses. Unfortunately, Molly and I fell into the former. She asked me for a trot and I took off bucking, and she almost lost me. After that, we walked in a tight circle, the reins trembling as she shook. Her anxiety fed mine, until I was wound up and upset. Our number was called. We walked across the driveway to the ring, and began walk around it.

I felt her take her deep breath, sit back more, take the reins, and squeeze. This, this was a different Molly. This was the Molly I knew. I picked up my trot, speeding down the long side, but a strong half halt had me back on the bit. The rider in the ring saluted, and the small audience clapped. I spooked, but Molly pulled me back, carefully putting me back together again. The bell rang, and she took another deep breath. I felt her relax, just a little bit.

We entered down centerline, Molly keeping a steady trot. She collected me for X but we overshot. I felt her brace against me before we stopped, and I braced right back. She took that moment at X to relax herself again, then asked me for a trot. We turned right at C, and at M she guided me down the diagonal, asking me to extend. I gladly obeyed, taking big, exaggerated strides. I felt Molly soften on the reins, losing her bracing stance. At K she turned me in a ten meter half circle, and L saw us leg yielding right.

By the time we halted at X again Molly felt like herself again, and after her salute, she did something to me she'd never done before.

She leaned down and hugged me.