Читать книгу Sundancer - Shelley Peterson - Страница 7

3

ABBY MALONE

On the ground I’m a pet but on my back all friendship ceases. This is a problem.

Bird woke early the next morning and dressed quickly. She’d spent much of the night thinking about her mother and hadn’t got much sleep. But the new day was bright and sunny, and she wasn’t going to waste another second on Eva. Today, she would deal with Sundancer.

She thought about the strange horse as she pulled on her socks. His refusal to communicate with her bothered her. It made her feel handicapped, like a normal person. He was an enigma all right, but Bird had made a vow. She would not be defeated.

As she passed the guest room door she was careful not to disturb Kimberly, who was still fast asleep. She didn’t want to awaken Hannah either. There was something she must do, and Hannah could not know.

Bird crept down the stairs and tiptoed into the kitchen, where she filled her pockets with carrots and sugar cubes and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. Thus fully armed, she walked out to the field. Sunny looked up, stared at her, then aloofly resumed grazing.

Hector waddled down from the barn wagging his tail. Nice day.

Sure is, Hector. Did you sleep well?

Never better.

How’s the arthritis?

Same as usual. You’re not going in there again, are you?

I think I am, Hector.

He’s going to kill you. Stay away.

I know you love me, but I have to do this.

I’ll be watching.

Bird smiled and rubbed his soft, yellow head. You’re a good dog. She climbed up on the fence and considered her plan. Bird had noted the way Sundancer had relished the apple slices the day before. Now it was time for something new. If this horse wouldn’t let her come to him, she’d make him come to her.

Slowly, she climbed down into Sundancer’s field. She placed carrots and sugar cubes about a foot apart in a row beside the fence. Task completed, she sat down in the grass at the end of the row and began to eat apple as loudly as she could. Crunch. Crunch.

Sundancer did his best to remain uninterested, but as Bird continued to enjoy the delicious treat, Sundancer got more aggravated. He was missing out, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Sundancer grabbed the furthest carrot from the ground, eyeing Bird. He ate it, then took a sugar cube. As Bird had hoped, he moved closer and closer as he ate his way along the row. Bird sat still, moving only her jaws as she slowly devoured the apple. Visions of yesterday’s mad charge danced in her head. She was ready to leap out of the way should Sundancer decide to knock her over. But so far, so good.

Fifteen minutes passed before Sundancer’s nose was at the apple. Bird shifted her weight and turned her back to him. She took another nibble.

Sundancer’s neck stretched out to follow the apple. He nudged Bird’s arm. She pushed back. Bird shifted again, forcing Sundancer to follow her.

She let him have a taste. He tried to take the whole thing, but Bird stopped him at a bite. Then another. She put her hand on his jaw and stroked him while he enjoyed his hard-won prize. He didn’t move away.

Very slowly, Bird stood and offered him the rest. As he gobbled the apple, she seized her moment. In one fluid motion, she grabbed his mane in both hands and jumped lightly onto his back, using the fence rail as a springboard.

Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?

HANNAH AWOKE FEELING REFRESHED and calm. It was Sunday, the least hectic day of the week. She stretched and opened the curtains to look out at the day.

She froze. In the paddock directly opposite Hannah’s window, Bird was sitting astride the new horse. Bareback.

As she watched, the big chestnut exploded. He reared up and twisted. Hannah gasped as Bird crumpled into a heap in the dirt. The horse casually kicked up his heels, put his nose to the ground, arched his back, and bucked. His rear legs shot straight up in the air and kicked at the sky. Then he turned and looked at Bird. Bird stood up, brushed off her clothes, and walked toward him.

In her blue cotton nightgown and fuzzy leopard-spotted slippers, Hannah tore downstairs and out the door. “Bird!” she yelled. “Bird!” Both Bird and the horse turned to look. Hector wagged his tail and barked a hearty welcome. Hannah kept running until she got to the fence.

“Bird,” she panted, awkwardly climbing over the rails, “what did I tell you about this horse? He cannot be ridden. We have to do this one step at a time. We must retrain him, like he’s a two-year-old.

He is unsafe! Do you understand?” Hannah spoke far louder than she probably intended in her effort to get through to Bird. “Do you? Nod if you understand.”

Bird nodded. Actually, she had just begun to understand. “Then why the heck did you get on him?”

For the same reason people climb mountains, I guess, Bird reasoned.

The horse was gloating. Bird saw it. There was an arrogant, superior look of satisfaction in his eyes, as if he’d won a contest. Which, in fact, Bird acknowledged he had. Sundancer two, Bird, zip.

Hannah saw it, too, and stared at him. She had her work cut out for her, and it was work that needed to be done now. If Sundancer believed he could push people around, he would try to get his way in everything, until finally he would no longer be useful. She just hoped it wasn’t already too late.

She reached out quickly and grabbed his halter before he could move away. “Bird. Get me the lunge whip, my gloves, and a lead line. Fast. I need my riding boots and the socks that are in them, too. Please. They’re right by the kitchen door. And my jeans. They’re in the basket on the washing machine.”

Bird ran off to do as she was bid. This was going to be good.

TEN MINUTES LATER, HANNAH stood rooted to the ground in front of the proud chestnut gelding. They were in the round pen — a circular enclosure measuring sixty feet in diameter, surrounded by six-foot-high, solid oak walls. It was a valuable training area, and Hannah used it often to teach young horses.

They had interrupted Cliff ’s morning chores, and he joined them now, a curious look on his face. “Hannah, it’s six thirty in the morning.”

Hannah turned away from the horse’s haughty gaze for a brief second to look at Cliff. Three years earlier, he’d come to the farm from the racetrack. He was tall and gaunt and full of horse knowledge.

“Don’t worry, Cliff. I haven’t gone insane, or at least not more than usual. Bird was just dumped by pretty boy here, who thinks it’s funny. I don’t think he should get away with it, and now is always the best time to sort out a problem.”

Cliff nodded. “Give you credit, Hannah. If anyone can fix this rascal, it’s you. Need a hand?”

“Can you get the gate?” Cliff nodded.

Bird watched from the stands as Hannah untied the rope from the horse’s halter. She flicked the lunge whip and yelled, “Get up!” The horse turned to look at her, eyes hard and challenging. “Get up!” Hannah called again, flicking at his hind end. The horse sat back on his haunches, sprang up in the air then dove down with a mighty buck. He turned his back to Hannah and kicked out at her, missing her by inches.

“Get out of there, Hannah!” cried Cliff. He, too, was watching from the stands, and Bird could see the fear in his eyes and hear it in his voice. “He’s going to kill you!”

Hannah flicked the whip harder. “Don’t worry, Cliff, this has got to be done. Get up!” The horse bucked again, sending a rear hoof at Hannah’s head.

“Let me do it, Hannah. Or send him back. He’s not worth dying for.”

“Get up!” Hannah called, chasing the horse around the pen. “Cliff, I’m not going to die. Please. You’re distracting me.”

Now the horse was galloping in a circle around Hannah. “Good boy!” she cooed, keeping her whip pointed at his rear. When he slowed, she flicked the whip and called, “Get up!” Around and around he went. No more bucks, but his eye still challenged.

Bird watched, chastened. She’d failed. Again. No other horse had ever blocked her out this way. She hoped Hannah would be more successful. If she wasn’t, Sundancer would be useless.

Out in the pen, Hannah changed the rules. She put the whip in her right hand and stopped Sundancer’s action. The big horse skidded to a halt and spun his rear toward her, preparing to kick. She snapped the whip loudly, sending him around the other way.

With ears pinned back and tail swishing, he was the picture of a malevolent spirit. Even so, there was no disguising his majestic carriage and his natural grace. His action was smooth and liquid, and he moved around the pen with effortless athleticism.

Hannah was relentless. Around and around he ran, Hannah on his tail, snapping the whip and yelling, “Get up!” She never once touched him, but it was plain that she meant business.

Bird admired the way her aunt worked. Tough lady, Bird thought. Her instincts are right, and she knows what she’s doing. Sundancer needs this lesson. He is the most pigheaded horse I’ve ever met, and he feels superior. Maybe this will make him worse, but it’s worth a try. He’s not good for much as he is.

Twenty minutes later, the horse was flagging but still obstinate. Hannah kept after him.

Bird understood exactly what her aunt was doing. The whole idea was to have him submit. That was the only way he would respect Hannah enough to allow himself to be trained. Many horses hardly resist at all.

In wild mustang herds, the matriarch, or dominant mare, chases a wayward youngster away from the herd and keeps him away until he begs to be included in the group. If she doesn’t let him back in, he will be alone and therefore vulnerable to predators. Young fillies and colts soon learn to behave themselves according to the rules of the herd, or die. Monty Roberts, John Lyons, and other respected trainers base their taming technique on this facet of equine behaviour. Bird had read their books, and she knew from her own experience that they were correct. This was what Hannah was doing now.

Sundancer was breathing hard. His nostrils were flared and bright red. Sweat poured off him.

Cliff interrupted again. “Hannah, he’s going to burst a lung.”

“Better dead than dangerous. He’s no good to anyone this way. He has to submit. He can’t be the boss.” Hannah let him slow to a trot but kept him moving forward.The horse stopped, sides heaving. He faced Hannah and stared at her with hard eyes and a stiff jaw.

“Move on, you stubborn fool!” she cried.

He reared up and lashed at her with his front hooves. Hannah snapped the whip at his feet. He jumped and spun.

Bird had never seen a horse react like this. Usually it took no more than fifteen minutes before the head dropped and the jaws chewed. Then it was a nice, quiet time of saddling up and beginning the training process. But Sundancer did not want to be bettered by anyone. Already thirty minutes had passed and the horse looked like he’d never submit. Hannah was tiring but determined. Who, Bird wondered, would outlast whom?

Sundancer kept moving, trotting now instead of cantering. His bucks and kicks were becoming minimal, and his energy was rapidly being depleted. Still he eyed Hannah with suspicion. How long could he go on like this? Or Hannah, for that matter?

As Bird pondered, the unimaginable happened. The big chestnut gelding sat down on the ground. He simply dropped his rump onto the dirt and skidded to a stop. Then he fell down on his side, breathing hard.

Bird involuntarily rose to her feet.

Hannah ran and crouched beside him. A moment later, she stood, hand on her hip. “You should see his eyes, Cliff!” she shouted. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s trying to rest without submitting.”

She flicked the whip. “Get off the ground! Up! Up!”

Hannah one, Sundancer zip, thought Bird with a smile.

The horse was startled. He had not expected Hannah to persist. He staggered to his feet, then put his head down and rushed at her. She jumped out of his way. Crack went the whip. “Raaaaaa!” she hollered, sounding more like a lion than a human. “Raaaaaaa! Get up!”

Bird could see that Hannah was mad. “Move on!” she cried again as she forced him into another round of circles.

Finally, two long minutes later, the big chestnut dropped his head. Hannah watched closely as he trotted around with his nose almost touching the ground. When his ears began to flick towards her, indicating that he was paying attention to her, she softened her voice. “Good fella. Good boy.”

His jaws started to chew. He was declaring defeat. His tongue licked his upper lip.

“Whoa. Whoa, boy. Good fella.”

Now the gelding stood quietly. His eyes were lowered, his posture gentle. Sweat dripped off his body, creating a damp spot underneath him in the sand. Hannah walked up and placed her hand on his neck. He quivered at her touch, then relaxed.

Bird jumped down from the seats. She was impressed. Hannah hadn’t given up. Now, Bird could finally have her chance.

“Cliff, the saddle and bridle, please.”

Cliff entered with the tack and helped Hannah put on the saddle pad, saddle, then tighten the girth. They slipped the bridle over his head and fastened the buckles. The horse made no move.

“Hannah, you’re so exhausted you’re shaking. No way you’re getting up. I’ll do it,” Cliff said.

“I’m a big girl, Cliff.”

Bird tapped Hannah on the back. Hannah turned to see who was there, and before she could react, Bird had pulled herself up onto the horse’s back.

“Sun … dan … cer,” she croaked.

“Bird!” Hannah hesitated for a moment, deciding how to react. Her eyes blurred. “You named him Sundancer? Well, then, Sundancer it is.”

Hannah led Sundancer around the pen with Bird sitting proudly atop. Bird could feel that his attitude had changed. He was mellow and sweet. He was going to be okay. She signalled to Hannah to let go of the reins.

This is just what I imagined, thought Bird. He’s big and strong and even after his workout there’s more energy in him than I’ve ever felt in a horse before. Power. Wildness. Danger. His ears are flicking around, picking up every sound and reading every nuance. He’s sensitive beyond what’s good for him. Each sense seems magnified a hundred times. It must hurt him to live each day.

Hannah did the right thing, Bird thought. Now it’s up to me to earn his trust. He doesn’t trust because he’s worried about being tricked. I won’t trick you, but you don’t know it yet.

Every human tries to trick me.

Sundancer?

Who else is here?

Well, I won’t trick you.

Why should I believe you?

Because you can hear what I think.

Hmm. But you can hear what I think, too, girl. I didn’t know humans could do that.

Some can, I guess. I can’t be the only one.

You’re the only one I know. Still, don’t count on getting the better of me, girl. I’m very smart.

I’m smart, too.

I’m smarter. I scared you silly.

True, but I came back for another try.

And I dumped you. I can do that again. Any time I want.

Do you know what “putting down’ means?

No.

It means putting to sleep. Permanently. Understand something, Sundancer. You were going to be put down because you’re dangerous. You’re here for your last chance at life.

You’re making that up.

No, I’m not.

I don’t want to die, girl.

I’m glad.

The woman thinks she got the better of me. She didn’t.

She shook you out of your snobbiness.

What do you mean?

You wouldn’t talk to me before.

Oh.

You’d better treat her well. She owns the place.

So?

So it’ll be game over if you cross her.

She wouldn’t do that. I’m the best-looking horse here. By far.

Hannah always says beauty is as beauty does.

Crap.

“Ohmygawd! Look at Bird! She’s riding Phoenix! He’s bee-you-tyful!” Kimberly’s shrill voice surprised Sundancer, and the chestnut gelding’s head shot up. He was immediately tense. He skittered sideways and threw his head around to find the source of the noise.

There’s nothing wrong, Sundancer.

The horse let out a big breath.

He’s always waiting for punishment, Bird thought.

Because I always get punished.

You won’t get punished here unless you deserve it.

That’s what they all say.

That’s because they don’t know better. Here, we understand horses.

I’ll be the judge of that.

“Kimberly, you know how to behave around horses,” Hannah scolded in hushed tones. “Look what happened. You scared him.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t expect this! I woke up and didn’t know where anybody was, and I looked all over the place and I finally came here. I thought you said he was unrideable.”

“Today’s the first day. We’ll know more about him as we work him.”

“Can I get on?” Kimberly asked.

“No, Kimberly. We’re going to take it slow.”

“But Bird’s riding him.”

“Bird was bucked off this morning. She’s now back up.”

“Phoenix looks awesome.”

“He’s got a new name. Bird named him Sundancer.”

“Right. She can’t talk.”

“She said, ‘Sundancer’ when she got on. Sundancer is his name.”

“When I buy him, I’ll name him Phoenix.”

Moments later, Jo, Melanie, and Peter arrived. Soon, everyone was talking at once.

“Who’s that horse?” asked Peter. “What’s his name?”

“Is that Bird riding him?” wondered Melanie.

“Can’t be!” exclaimed Jo. “That’s the new horse. My mother told me to stay away from him. She says he’s mean.”

Hannah turned to face them. “Yes, yes, and yes. Yes, it’s the new horse, and his name is Sundancer. Yes, Bird is riding him. And yes, I’ve heard stories about him, too. That’s why we worked him into the ground before Bird hopped on. Literally.”

“He’s good looking,” said Peter. “I like his colour, except for the sweat. Which is all over him.”

“And check out his shape,” added Melanie. “He’s got excellent conformation.”

Hannah nodded her agreement. “But beauty is as beauty does. Never forget that.”

“And I am definitely going to ask my father to buy him for me,” said Kimberly. “Or my mother’s new boyfriend. He’s old and rich. We’d kick some butt. The judges for sure would notice him.”

“What’ll you do with Pastor?” asked Jo. “He’s a cool horse.”

“Do you want to buy him? As of yesterday when he bucked me off and made a fool of me, he’s for sale.”

“I’ll never sell Gem,” answered Jo loyally.

“Whatever, but Pastor runs rings around her.”

Hannah sensed a quarrel about to start. “Kids, all of you. Get your tack cleaned and your horses groomed. Kimberly and I brought them home and bedded them down after the show. We didn’t fuss with them. They still have their manes and tails braided.”

Kimberly whined, “Can I please ride Phoenix?”

“No, and his name is Sundancer.”

“I’ll always call him Phoenix. You said it was a good name.”

“It is a good name, for all the reasons that you said. But you have to admit it’s rather special that Bird named him.”

“Just because she never talks?”

Hannah smiled at the girl’s persistence. “Exactly.”

Kimberly grimaced and went off to catch up with the others.

By now Hannah’s stomach was rumbling with hunger. “Bird, let’s call it a day and get some breakfast.”

Bird nodded. She pulled the reins to stop Sundancer so she could dismount. He reared up so suddenly and so unexpectedly that Bird slipped in the saddle.

I’m not a plow horse, you know!

She threw both arms around his neck and managed to stay on. What’s your problem?

Don’t pull at my mouth. I’ve got blisters from the last bozo who rode me. Just relax your legs and sit back.

You didn’t need to rear up.

I made my point, didn’t I?

Hannah rushed to take the reins. “Well done, Bird. Now sit tight while we get him quiet again.”

Sundancer threw his head and sidled. This is boring, woman. I’ve had enough. He pushed against Hannah, testing her authority again.

“We’ve got to end on a good note. We can’t let him win, Bird, or all our work today is worthless,” warned Hannah.

Bird sat quietly while Hannah led him. I meant what I said about Hannah, Sundancer. Give her a break.

I’ll think about it. Begrudgingly, Sundancer walked nicely again. Hannah brought the gelding to a halt. “That’s enough. We’ll quit while we’re ahead. Take your feet out of the stirrups and slide down.”

Bird did as she was told, and safely alit on the arena floor.

Peter came running at full tilt, waving his arms. He yelled loudly, “Hannah! There’s a coyote outside the barn!”

Sundancer panicked. His eyes glazed and showed white all around. Hannah braced herself and held on to the reins as he pulled and reared.

Easy, Sundancer. Easy, boy.

No answer. He’d shut down again.

“Sorry, Hannah,” panted Peter. “I didn’t mean to scare the horse. But there really is a coyote. Right outside!”

“Calm down, Peter. Speak softly.” Sundancer reared and walked on his hind legs. He’d begun to sweat heavily again.

Behave yourself!

Bird got no response. Interesting, she thought. He’s truly so frightened that he can’t think.

“But what about the coyote?” asked Peter shrilly. He jumped up and down with anxiety.

“Peter, please. Calm yourself. Don’t worry about the coyote.”

“Can I help?” asked a young woman in jeans and half-chaps. She had come in through the side entrance.

“You sure can. I’ll hold this rascal. Can you get his saddle off?” The girl efficiently unfastened the girth and removed the saddle while Sundancer twisted and jumped around. “Done. What about his bridle?”

“I’ll take it off once I get him to the field.”

“I’ll help.”

Bird followed silently as they led Sundancer through the barn and back to his pasture. The young woman opened the gate, and Hannah led the prancing horse into the field. After turning him to face the gate for safety’s sake, she quickly and carefully slipped the bridle over his ears and dropped the bit from his mouth. Sundancer reared up, twisted, and threw himself into a gigantic buck. Hannah closed the gate behind her and let out her breath.

“What a devil,” she muttered.

“No kidding,” agreed the younger woman. “I heard he was here. I came over to see him. He’s everything I was told, and more.”

Hannah turned to look at her visitor. “You’re Abby Malone. I would’ve recognized you right away, but I was a little preoccupied.” Hannah smiled. “You were a teenager when we last met. I’m Hannah Bradley. So Peter really did see a coyote.”

Abby nodded. “Yes, he sure did. Cody. I’m sorry he caused all that trouble.”

Hannah shook her head and laughed. “This horse was causing trouble before you came.”

From the bushes, Bird took a good look at the person standing beside Hannah. Abby Malone was close to Hannah’s height, and slight. She possessed self-assurance and directness. She was fair and attractive, with a natural good humour that was appealing. Bird guessed her age at about twenty. She listened to their conversation.

Hannah inhaled deeply. “I’d better get this over with. I don’t know if you remember, but my father is Colonel Kenneth Bradley.”

Abby nodded. “I know. That’s not something I’d forget.”

Bird studied her more closely. From family lore, Bird knew that Abby’s father was Liam Malone, who had been her grandfather’s lawyer for many years. Kenneth Bradley had accused him of stealing money from the family trust fund, and Liam had been sent to prison, based on false testimony. It was Abby’s detective work that had uncovered the truth and resulted in Liam’s release from prison. Kenneth was later convicted of stealing the money himself, from his own family’s fund, and served time in jail.

Hannah was talking now. “I’m very sorry about what you and your family went through because of my father. I can’t explain why he did those things. I’m still embarrassed.”

“No need. We got the letter you wrote after the trial. It meant a lot to all of us. In fact, my father kept it. But that’s long over now.”

“I hear that your father’s doing great. I’m glad.” Hannah smiled. Bird emerged from her cover and stood beside Hannah, head down. She wanted to get closer to this young woman who had a coyote.

“Hi,” said Abby. “My name’s Abby. What’s yours?”

Bird said nothing, just stared.

“This is my niece, Alberta,” Hannah interceded. “Eva’s daughter. She was born in Calgary, and my sister named her in memory of the clear air and the smell of pines. We call her Bird.”

“I like both names. Alberta and Bird.” Abby paused thoughtfully. “Birds can fly. They simply open their wings and they’re in a place all their own. Do you do that?”

Bird said nothing, but studied Abby with interest. I like you, she thought. I think you might understand me. A little.