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| part one. Fourteen-year-old Ruby Thompson squirmed uncomfortably in her mother’s sedan, fixing her gaze on her scuffed jodhpur boots. Susan Thompson looked over at her doughter and smiled to herself at Ruby’s nervousness. “You OK honey?” she inquired of her daughter. “Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” she replied, faking a smile for her mother. Susan’s attractive face twisted into a rueful grin as she focused her eyes on the road, her eyes searching for Southbrook Road. Ruby slumped further in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest. At last Susan took a left turn, followed by a right that led down a gravel driveway. They passed a painted wooden sign that said “Southbrook Stables”, and a sign warning drivers that horses were near. They finally pulled into a small gravel parking lot and slowed to a stop in an empty space. Susan took off her seatbelt and turned to her daughter. “You coming?” Susan asked, “or am I the one taking the lesson?” “Don’t tease me, Mom,” Ruby groaned as she unsnapped her seatbelt. “Yes, I’m coming.” Mother and daughter emerged from the sedan and walked towards a sizeable barn that had white siding on it. Who puts siding on a barn? Ruby wondered to herself as she followed her mother self-consciously towards the barn. She hadn’t ridden in six months—since her old barn, Briarwood Farm, went out of business. Ruby was extremely nervous coming to a new barn where she wouldn’t know any of the horses or people, and where she figured she would be considered the barest novice rider. Now, at the sight of the fancy exterior of the barn, Ruby was even more certain she wouldn’t be able to fit in well. Ruby took a deep breath and tossed her fat auburn braid over her shoulder. She squared her shoulders and lifted her stubborn chin. She imagined she wore brand new breeches and boots instead of the ratty tee shirt, jeans, and jodhpur boots. She pretended she had a top-of-the-line riding helmet that didn’t make her head look huge, and that she could afford anything she wished. She did this for all of five seconds. As soon as she set foot in the barn and took a look around, Ruby’s heart dropped to her scuffed boots. The inside of the barn looked as fancy as the outside. There were a few horses out on cross-ties. Big, beautiful, shiny horses that probably cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. And grooming these horses were equally beautiful riders. Some used a state-of-the-art vacuum cleaner to suck dirt off their horses’ coats. Some were lugging around expensive saddles and equipment. All wore brand-name gear. There was an air of money in the barn, and Ruby shifted uncomfortably, her gaze settling on her frayed shoelaces. A woman carrying a clipboard and an attitude walked towards them. “Can I help you?” she asked in a business-like tone. “Yes,” Susan replied, smiling warmly. Ruby’s mother was too nice, in her daughter’s opinion. “My daughter is here for a lesson.” “Name please,” the woman said tonelessly, flipping through the small, neat stack of paper on her clipboard. “Ruby Thompson,” Susan said, and watched as the woman searched for Ruby’s name among her papers. “Thompson, Thompson,” she muttered to herself. “Thompson. Here. It says here you’ve ridden before?” The stern woman fixated her hard gray eyes on Ruby. Ruby gulped silently and nodded. A shapely eyebrow lifted. “Well, I suppose we’ll see what you know then. You can ride Sullivan. His tack is labeled in the tack room.” With that, the woman spun on her heel and started walking away. “Wait a minute,” Susan called out. Ruby looked from her mother to the woman— who was now facing them once more-- and back again. “Yes?” “I’ve forgotten to formally introduce myself,” Susan smiled and extended a hand. “My name is Susan Thompson. This, of course, is Ruby.” The woman tilted her head before extending her own hand and daintily shaking Susan’s. “Miranda Chafey.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Susan said, her voice trailing off as Miranda once again walked away. Susan turned to her daughter. “Well, she was pleasant,” she snorted in an unlady-like manner. Ruby grinned despite the atmosphere and whole-heartedly agreed. “Now,” Susand rubbed her hands together before taking her daughter’s hand in hers. “Let’s find Sullivan.” Ruby sighed quietly and walked down the aisle with her mother, dodging horses and riders. She was excited to ride a new horse, but she didn’t want to show it. As they strolled down the aisle, Ruby’s eyes flickered from shiny brass nameplate to shiny brass namepate. “There’s his stall, Mom!” Ruby said, excitement evident in her voice as she pointed to a stall on their right. She let go of her mother’s hand and went over to the Dutch door. The top half was open but she didn’t see anyone inside. She poked her head over and looked around. Standing in the corner of the immaculate stall was a tall, bay horse. He must have been 16.3 hands, Ruby guessed, and he was absolutely gorgeous. His mane and tail were a silky black and the only white on him was a stripe and a snip running down his face to his lips. “Wow,” Ruby murmered. “Come here, beautiful,” she called out softly, extending one hand. With her other, she dug into her pocket for a peppermint. The wrapper crinkled noisily and Sullivan’s ears pricked up. He whirled his body around and came over to the stall door, nostrils flaring with interest. “You like these?” Ruby asked him, petting his soft nose as he gobbled it up, slobbering on her hand. She giggled. “I guess so.” She half expected the horses here to act like they owned the world, just like the people. She was relieved to find Sullivan acting like any other horse would. Ruby turned to face her mother, who was leaning against a wall, watching the scene with a smile. Ruby immediately felt embarassed for coddling the horse. “Mom, can you run out and grab my stuff for me please?” she asked. “Sure, honey,” Susan replied, and walked out of the barn towards their car. “Be right back, Van,” Ruby assured the horse, and wandered towards the tack room. She had already given the horse a nickname, Ruby thought with a rueful smile. “Who’s riding Sullivan?” A girl’s voice floated out of the tack room as Ruby was two steps away from the door. “Some new girl,” was another girl’s answer. “Why Sullivan though?” The first girl sounded positively shocked, a hint of a pout in her voice. “I don’t know. She’s never even been here before. Chafey must be crazy to put her on someone like him,” the second girl said listlessly and walked out of the tack room right past Ruby. She flushed before walking into the tack room, willing herself to be invisible to the other girl that sat at a cleaning station, scrubbing an expensive looking saddle with a soapy sponge. Ruby turned her full attention to the wall of saddle racks and bridle hooks, her eyes scanning the labels for Sullivan’s name. Then what Ruby had hoped most wouldn’t happen, happened. |
