Chasing Dreams

Chapter Two-Horse of Fire

The wind whipped strands of my hair from my neat brown braid as I trudged up the field in search of my horse. Dark clouds loomed ominously causing me to quicken my pace as though I can out run them. Thunder sent a joyful whinny to me as I crested a hill. He came cantering up and stopped in front of me. I buried my face in his mane and wrapped my arms around his neck. After about fifteen seconds he snorted indignantly and pulled himself away gently before nudging my satchel. I laughed and pulled a carrot out.

Our ritual of riding bareback up the field began with me clipping his lead rope to one side of his halter then tied it to the other side. He bobbed his head happily as I hoisted myself up. My fingers tangled into part of his mane as we started of at a bouncy trot. I allowed him to move into a brisk canter followed by a easy gallop. Managing to forget the dark sky and worries of a storm I became one with my steed, moving as though we were born this way.

A smile plasters itself on my face as I loosened my grip on the reins and allowed him to have his head. His long black mane blew back in my face, making it seem as though we weren't horse and rider, but something new and beautiful. Thunder's long even strides cover ground easily like its nothing. His coat wasn't even sheeting with sweat.

We reached the exit in no time and I slid off to open the gate. Thunder waited patiently while I closed it, double checked it and mounted again. My thoughts moved to the clip-chop of his hooves. In preparation for the first show of the season I decided we'd work the flat followed by some cross country, nothing too heavy.

Once we reached the main barn I dismounted and placed Thunder in the cross ties beside the tack room. I made a point of brushing him to perfection and placed his red saddle pad atop his withers. Finding myself admiring my gorgeous horse I shook myself back to the task of getting him tacked up. From my locker I found my matching all purpose saddle, girth and bridle. Placing them pleasingly atop his back I found his bridle and replaced his halter.

When my mount and I had been prepared for our hour of fun I tightened my girth and placed my foot in the stirrup. I expertly got on and clucked my boy into a loose reined trot. When we arrived at the arena I was pleased to find it empty. We worked each gait at the different versions and were pictures of effortlessness and grace.

Smoothly I pushed him into a loose canter. His strides moved fluidly underneath me as I allowed my hips to rock with his motion. The steady rhythm of his hoofbeats was like a soothing lullaby to me. I couldn't help but feel at ease atop his back. Cutting across the center of the arena I worked a circle, maintaining his slow, yet balanced gait.

After lengthening and shortening his strides at the different gaits I decided he was warmed up. His condition was optimum and I didn't fear overworking him. His hearty Morgan stamina served him well and made him willing to please. I couldn't have asked for a better partner.

Slowing him to a free walk I steered him towards the exit. Thunder shifted uneasily as I leaned down to open the gate though. Worried he might pull a trick on me if I dismounted, I had chosen to go trail horse style. The light aluminum gate was simple to move and soon we had exited without a problem, leaving Thunder's worries unfounded.

We picked up an easy jog as we followed the dirt path leading down to the course. A larger horse couldn't have taken the short cut, but Thunder's 14.2 hand stature and compact body made it pleasurable. Tree branches hung overhead creating a canopy of leaves as I admired my surroundings. Thwarting a branch from hitting my face, I criticized my riding inwardly.

My posture straightened at the sight of the course, a large highly challenging course not meant for the faint of heart. The cross country course loomed large as I sat upon my small Morgan. He could do it, but it always baffled me how large the jumps were. Shortening my reins I stopped my gelding then pushed him into a smooth transition into a fast canter. His strides balanced out and soon the first jump was looming large.

I chose a few of the easier jumps for safety's sake. Normally we might have gone for a full round, but I wanted to get in a trail ride before we were rained out. A tiger trap jump followed after a harder brush box. Rating him to a tamer canter, I ticked off the strides. Narrowing my eyes I squeezed in an extra stride just before take off. He landed on the correct lead and with and extra buck for good measure. My eyes twinkled with delight as I looped once around the field before letting him have his head.

I grinned as I patted Thunder's crest. Running my fingers through his mane I urged him into a easy lope up the field. If the road was clear we'd ride down it until came to our secret trail, which was barely large enough for us and therefore hardly visible from the road, making for a perfect place to relax. Once I hit the main dirt road on the farm I was surprised to spot my trainer, Jenny getting out of her truck with a trailer in tow. A loud kicking interrupted my thoughts as I rode Thunder over to her.

Stopping within a few yards I called out to her "Why do you have a trailer? I didn't think you were doing anything this weekend!"

She laughed "I didn't either! That is until I heard Wishing on a Comet was for sale! I don't know what happened, but we've had first refusal on her since she was born and yesterday the owner called and said to come take her today or she'd sell her to someone else!" I gaped at her, Wishing on a Comet had been like the ideal horse, with beauty and bloodlines. She had been on the spotlight since birth, with people offering more money than I would pay for a yacht, and her owner turning them all down. This puzzled my logical mind.

"That horse in there is Wishing On a Comet? That bronco? Why's she like that?" I asked, surprised that such a highly valued horse would be so intent on killing a trailer.

"Oh, she likes to be the center of attention, so she misbehaves is she thinks she's not getting her rightful place in the spotlight. She's perfect otherwise. I watched this video of her performing flying lead changes and side passes on her own. The owner said she'd been in a pasture near the training ring" Jenny smiled, before thinking "Hey, would you mind helping me get her off? Just untack Thunder and leave him in Luke's stall."

"Okay" I replied before dismounting and leading Thunder into the barn. He wasn't that hot so I just untacked him quickly, without placing his cooling sheet on. He didn't appear to care about my abandonment, due to a over stuffed haynet hanging in the corner. I promised I take him trail riding later, then jogged back to Jenny "Who's gonna unload her?"

"Hmmm. How about you? Just keep watch yourself if she gets hyper." I nodded and grabbed the offered rope lead. Opening the side door, I whispered calming words to the flame red filly, whose shine showed up even in the dark of the trailer. Undoing the cross ties, I clipped the rope to her halter and stroked her as Jenny lowered the back. I slid under the front bar and waited for the butt bar to be lowered, before backing her out carefully. She bowed her head and responded with compliance and ease.

Once out I halted her beside the rear tires so that we could take off her wraps and sheet. Grasping her halter I carefully undid the belly straps and the front straps of her blanket carefully as not to startle her. As soon as her traveling equipment was taken off I lead her to the big wooden round pen as instructed. Quickly I unclipped her lead and clambered onto the fence to watch her. Jenny pulled herself up beside me "What do you think of her?"

Resting my feet on a rail I replied "She's a doll on the lead, but I guess I don't know why her owner sold her in the first place. I mean she's perfect, but why would someone sell a perfect horse?"

She shrugged in response and turned her attention to the filly "Her barn names Liberty, fitting isn't it?" I rested my elbows on my knees and nodded, though my thoughts were on Liberty. She tore around at fast paces, then stopped and looked through the rails, calling challenges to the world. She trotted over to us and snorted. I stroked her neck before she cantered off in a red blur. Noting the fire in her eyes, I decided that Liberty was a horse of fire, more fiction than reality. It was then that I realized that our control over her was merely a matter of her willingness and if we did anything to make her doubt us she would be untouchable, a untouchable fireball.