Six Degrees of Lost

By Linda Benson

Hi Everyone! I am pleased to announce the release of my newest novel from Musa Publishing. It's called SIX DEGREES OF LOST, and it's out as an ebook right now, although I hope to have some promotional print copies soon.

Sometimes you have to take a journey to find out where you really belong.

Olive’s mother is headed to jail and her brother to join the Army, so thirteen-year-old Olive is uprooted from sunny California and dumped in Washington State like a stray. That's exactly what she feels like surrounded by her aunt’s collection of homeless dogs, cats, and horses.

Fourteen-year-old David’s future is already carved in stone. From a military family with two brothers serving overseas, he’s been pointed towards the Air Force Academy his entire life - but a rafting trip gone awry might ruin his chances.

When a runaway dog is almost hit by a car, the search for its owner leads Olive and David, two teens from entirely different backgrounds, to an unlikely bond. Will their growing attraction to each other be enough to keep Olive from a foolhardy journey to find her mother? Will David risk his family’s plans to save her?

This book was inspired by some things in my own life. First, the setting: it's set in a rural portion of the Pacific Northwest, much like the area I live in. Second: the story line about returning lost animals to their homes was inspired by a group of friends here in the country who always call each other when we spot a strange dog on the road, or a new cat, or loose livestock of any kind.

The main story of Olive and David, however, took on a life of its own once I set these characters on the page. It's told from two viewpoints, with Olive and David narrating alternating chapters, and even I was totally surprised by the turn of events when these two meet and become friends. Darn teenagers! You just never know what they might do. *grin* But for me, this is one of the joys of being a writer - watching your characters become real on the page.

As for horses - well, there are two old horses in this novel. They play background parts, I have to admit, but they are there, as well as lost dogs, abandoned puppies, homeless cats, and even an annoying peacock. These things just seem to wander into my stories, no matter what I do.

Below is a small excerpt from the book, shortly after Olive and David meet, when she shows him the horses for the first time.

 

 “So what’s with all those dogs barking in the back yard?”

“They’re foster dogs. My aunt takes them in when they get too crowded at the animal shelter. Some of them aren’t adoptable, and would be put to sleep otherwise.”

“Really?” I gulp.

“We’ve also got six cats in the house, plus the horses out back. Come on, I’ll show you.” The yellow dog jumps up and down, begging for the stick. Olive flings it down the driveway. I see a small shelter out back, with sagging fences. Olive is already headed that way, taking short barefoot steps on the gravel, so I follow.

A sway-backed pinto horse, with a mouth full of hay, sticks his head out from the shelter and then turns and goes back to his breakfast. It looks kind of bony. “Wow,” I say. “Skinny.”

“Yeah, that’s Paintball.” She grins. “Well, that’s what I call him. He was found wandering loose up in the National Forest. Aunt Trudy says somebody just dumped him there.”

“Why would anybody do that?”
            Olive shrugs. “I know. Hard to believe, huh? I guess they couldn’t afford to feed him, but still, that’s just mean.”

A huge brown horse wanders over to the fence. “Who’s this one?” I reach between the strands of wire and pat his head. He’s just as skinny as the first one.

“My aunt says he’s ancient, and we’ll probably never get his weight back on. They found him tied to a tree in front of the animal shelter, but they don’t really have any facilities for horses there, so he came here instead. He’s sweet, huh?”

“Yeah, he seems nice.” The old horse pushes his head underneath my hand, clearly enjoying the attention.

“I call him Shakespeare. ‘Cause he looks so noble and elegant.”

 Elegant? I think. That’s a stretch. “Can you ride them?”

“I don’t know. Aunt Trudy says we don’t really know that much about them. Anyway, it’s been too hot, and she’s always busy. She’s a clerk at the animal shelter thrift shop, and she takes turns working down at the shelter, besides feeding all these animals here at home.”

Olive talks so fast she makes my head swim. She barely takes a breath, and rattles on. “So besides the ones she takes in from the shelter, my aunt is always finding animals, too. She says there must be an invisible sign at the bottom of the driveway that says: Lost Animals Stop Here.”

“Is that how you found this dog?” I stroke the big lab’s ears, and he presses against me.

“He was standing in the middle of the road,” she says, “and almost got hit by a car.” She smiles. “Maybe he was reading the sign.”

“Ha!”

“And Aunt Trudy says there must be another sign down there, too, that says: Dump Your Unwanted Animals Here.”

“Really?” I stare at the pattern of freckles dappling Olive’s nose. Very cute.

“Last year she found a mother cat and four kittens in a box out at the end of the driveway where someone left them.” Olive swipes a strand of hair from her face. “And three other cats have just shown up here, too. Mugsy, Stinker, and Paws. And there was a pony last year that just came trotting up the driveway, and no one ever claimed him, but Aunt Trudy found a home for that one.”

“Wow,” I say. “So what about you? How’d you get here?”

Olive ducks her head suddenly, and doesn’t answer.  Me and my big mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

I hope this excerpt has been enough to pique your interest. If you have an ereader, this book is available right now, for $4.99 on Amazon (and also Amazon overseas), Barnes & Noble, from Musa Publishing, and will be available from all major online booksellers soon, as well as Overdrive, for libraries. Hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think!

Meet Jane Ayres - Guest Blog

From time to time we feature a guest blog from another horse author. Today we welcome UK author Jane Ayres, who has published several horse novels for children and teens. She also has a piece in WHY WE RIDE.

Sharing the journey

by Jane Ayres

When I was a child I avidly read every pony book I could lay my hands on.  My favourites were by the Pullein-Thompson sisters - Diana, Christine or Josephine - and I devoured tales about girls who were lucky enough to have a pony.  I wanted to be those girls, so I started to write my own pony stories.  With a twist.  Because, after pony books, my next favourite reading subject was ghosts and the supernatural.  So I wrote a creepy tale called Dream Pony about a girl whose perfect new mount goes unexpectedly berserk at a horse show.  It doesn’t end well for the girl or her pony, but it was the first story I got published by a short lived but wonderful UK magazine called Pony World.  I was 14 years old and the thrill of getting my work in print was….well, it’s hard to put into words.  (Ironically!) 

Since then I have written many “straight” pony tales but I especially enjoy combining two genres. Sometimes, the supernatural element is implied or ambiguous rather than explicit.  I am interested in exploring the dark side of characters (and horses), especially in my last few books, The Horse on the Balcony, Dark Horses, The Runaway Horse and Last Chance Horse. 

But the novel I am currently writing reflects another thread that runs through many of my books.  Often the “life journey” of the characters, human or animal, is paralleled with an actual journey.  It’s only in later years that I have realized how much this figures for me - and how far back it all goes.  When I was 10, I started to write a pony novel which was never finished.  It reflected my reading influences, which, as well as pony books,  included a lot of Enid Blyton Famous Five, Secret Seven and boarding school stories. My novel featured two girls (whose names I can’t recall) and their ponies, Nutmeg and Shadow.  The girls are away at boarding school when they get the news that Shadow has been stolen, so, with no clues whatever, they secretly run away from school, with a few friends, and set off on a horseback mission to solve the mystery and get their pony back.  Midnight rides and picnics also featured heavily!

The second book I had published, in my mid twenties, was called Wild Horse Island and the main character is Zephyr, a wild horse who is taken from his herd on a remote island and begins a long journey to find his way home, encountering two lonely people whose lives he changes.  More than twenty years later, I was asked to update the story and extend it before it was republished as Zephyr of Wild Horse Island.  This book remains dear to my heart.  Years later, without even realizing it, I explored related themes in Coming Home, a rare non-horsey novel about a girl and her two Norwegian Forest cats who are tragically parted but, after many adventures, find each other once more. 

When I got thinking about the stories that grip me as a reader, they often involved characters undertaking, often unwillingly, some kind of journey.  I like to feel when I am reading that I am sharing that journey with the characters, whether it is a girl trying to find her stolen horse, or a loyal pony finding its way back home.  I believe the act of reading, and writing,  a book is a kind of journey.  And I hope I will be travelling for a long time to come.

To learn more about Jane and her books, follow her blog: www.janeayres.blogspot.com or find out more about her books here:

http://janeayres.ponymadbooklovers.co.uk/

Thanks so much for dropping by and visiting, Jane. European readers, have any of you read Jane's books?

It's a Maybe: The Retired Racehorse Book

Sometimes I think that my greatest talent is coming up with awesome ideas and then sticking them on the back-burner until I have "time." (As if "time" were something I was ever going to possess, to clench in my fist, to cackle a villainous laugh over. I've got you at last, Time! Probably not.)

Stuck on my backburner I have various art projects (what to do with that charming little Sam Savitt paperback before it decays entirely? Something amazing. I'll look it up later), an entire manuscript imaginatively named The Eventing Novel (I'll completely rewrite that eventually), and, most annoyingly of all, the Retired Racehorse book.

I've been planning the Retired Racehorse book since the day I started Retired Racehorse Blog. You might know it, a little WordPress project that made me moderately Internet Famous amongst a small proportion of Thoroughbred enthusiasts and got me a lot of Facebook friends. (Hi Facebook friends! xo) I meant to just keep training Off-Track Thoroughbreds and blog about their training as I went, and eventually put it all into a lovely retraining manual, since it can be difficult to consult a blog before you go out to ride.

YOU PROMISED ME A BOOK

But it spun all out of proportion and somehow I ended up a writer in New York City. I attribute this development directly to Retired Racehorse Blog, and I still want to write the book, out of appreciation, at the very least! The blog deserves its book!

The problem, of course, is that I'm not training horses anymore, and I can't just make up fixes for problems. I don't have a set curriculum for a horse. I'm not Natalie Keller Reinert Horsemanship MasterClass, Inc. My blog posts were mentally composed as I was riding, thinking through the problems that the horse was presenting me as I tried to trace them to their roots in his early training as a racehorse.

And then yesterday I was in the basement of the Strand Bookstore, which is one of my favorite places to be (certainly it's my favorite basement) and I found a gorgeous little vintage hardcover of Ahlerich: The Making of a Dressage World Champion, by Reiner Klimke. It's basically a detailed—incredibly detailed—training diary of one of the most wonderful dressage teams we've ever seen. Just wonderful.

I didn't buy it, because it was $40 and my price limit for books is closer to $1.

But it did remind me that I had a perfectly good diary of training a retired racehorse from racetrack to amateur eventer in five months, and I really ought to pull the Retired Racehorse Book off that back-burner.

Except I still really don't have time.

And then today I saw a WordPress plug-in called Anthologize, which is supposed to make your blog into a book automagically, and I thought, this is the sign! I'll do it today! 

But then I read the instructions, and it doesn't work on WordPress.com hosted blogs. (i.e. dot wordpress dot com blogs, aka free blogs.)

So I pulled out my hair for a few minutes (it's really long and I can spare a few strands) and then took a deep breath. I'll still do the Retired Racehorse Book. Just not at this exact moment. When I have time.

Snowman: The Eighty-Dollar Champion

Last night I stayed up late to finish this book:

The Eighty-Dollar Champion

Snowman: The Horse that Inspired a Nation

by Elizabeth Letts

Ballantine Books/ Random House/2011

After wiping tears from my eyes, I got up this morning to give it five stars on Goodreads, and here is my review:

You can't help but be inspired but this story of a once-in-a-lifetime horse that was literally saved out of the back of a killer's truck. It's not only a story of Snowman and the special bond he had with a young immigrant from Holland named Harry de Leyer, but it's also the story of a moment in history. Elizabeth Letts seamlessly weaves us in and out of the rich American country estates, where horses were king, to World War II Holland when the Nazis occupied the country. But it is mostly the story of Snowman, a quiet, gentle half-plow horse, who accomplished so much in the show jumping world that it allowed an entire nation to dream big dreams. You'll believe in miracles too, after reading this, and you'll never look at a rescue horse in the same way again. 

Author Elizabeth Letts says this on her website:

Harry de Leyer first saw the horse he would name Snowman on a bleak February afternoon between the slats of a rickety truck bound for the slaughterhouse. The big gray horse had matted hair, open wounds on both knees and harness marks across his chest. He was as plain and friendly as a favorite mutt. A man’s best friend kind of horse Harry decided. He bought him for $80.

I have to credit the author for keeping us on the edge of our seat through horse shows and jump-offs, triumphs and let-downs. This fantastic horse and the special relationship he shared with a young riding instructor who saw his potential is well worth the read. Truly inspiring and if you're a horse person, you are going to love it. I was lucky to get an early copy from our library, but this is one book I'm going to buy and keep on my shelf.

The story takes place mostly in the 1950's, and Snowman has long since gone to Horse Heaven. But Harry de Leyer is alive and still riding at age 83. Here's a recent article about him: http://www.readthehook.com/100790/horsin-around-galloping-grandfather-trains-legendary-equines

Tomorrow, September 21st is Harry's birthday. He'll be 84. Wish him a Happy Birthday!

Have you read the story of Snowman yet?
      

The Girl Who Remembered Horses

by Linda Benson

Exciting News! My novel THE GIRL WHO REMEMBERED HORSES has been accepted by Musa Publishing for their brand new YA imprint and will be out very soon. The tentative release date is November 11, 2011 for e-book, with paper book coming (hopefully) soon after.

Here is a short synopsis:

Several generations into the future, Sahara travels with her clan in a barren environment where recyclables are bartered for sustenance, and few remember horses or their connection to humans. But Sahara has recurring visions of riding astride on magnificent animals that run like the wind. With the help of Evan, a young herder from the Gardener’s Camp, Sahara discovers a crumbling book containing pictures of humans riding horses and learns her visions are real. Confronting a group of hunters led by hot-headed Dojo, Sahara rescues a wounded horse, but the animal escapes before it can be tamed.
Sahara is labeled a foolish dreamer and almost gives up her quest. Following horse tracks into a remote ravine, she finds wild dogs attacking a dying mare, and must drive them off in order to save the foal. Now she must not only attempt to raise it, but finally convince her clan of the ancient bond between horses and humans.

THE GIRL WHO REMEMBERED HORSES is a speculative fiction novel, but is not a fantasy. I tried hard to make the horse details as real as possible. It was inspired by a college research project on women and their obsession with horses, as well as the changing status of horses today as we become a more urban society.

This book is a labor of love and very dear to my heart, and I am so excited! Just wanted to share the news. Also, The Girl Who Remembered Horses has a Facebook Page already https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Girl-Who-Remembered-Horses-by-Linda-Benson/246748438694685 
If you want to stop by and "like" it, you'll get all the newest details, including cover art, which I haven't even seen yet!

Question - How many of you have an e-reader? You'll get first peek at this book!

Winner of The Horse Jar

And so to announce the winner of our second Great Summer Reading Giveaway

*drum roll please*

THE HORSE JAR, by Linda Benson, goes to HorsesAndTurbos - Jackie!

Jackie - if you'll email me linda (at) lindabenson (dot) net - I'll get the book sent out to you pronto.

Thanks to everyone who entered, and stay tuned. A new contest will be posted very soon, with more chances to win books!

We do appreciate all of you that read this blog, and this is our way of giving back.

Congratulations to the Winner, and thanks so much to all that entered.

Happy Summer! Happy Reading! Happy Riding!

Verna Dreisbach and WHY WE RIDE

Meet Horsewoman Verna Dreisbach: Verna Dreisbach is an author, educator and literary agent. Her stories have been published in EQUUS Magazine, Bernie Siegel’s Faith, Hope and Healing and Calaveras Station literary journal. She is the founder and president of Capitol City Young Writers, a non-profit organization dedicated to the education and inspiration of young writers. She graduated Magna Cum Laude with both a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree in English with honors from Phi Kappa Phi and Sigma Tau Delta International English Honor Society. Verna lives in California with her husband, three kids, and myriad animals.

Verna and Chicklet

Verna's most recent project has been as author and editor of the book WHY WE RIDE: Women Writers on the Horses in Their Lives (Seal Press/Perseus 2010.) Here's a description:

Women and their horses — a symbiotic relationship based on trust, camaraderie, friendship, and love. In Why We Ride, Verna Dreisbach collects the stories of women who ride, sharing their personal emotions and accounts of the most important animals in their lives — horses. This collection of 27 stories includes the heartfelt thoughts of a range of women — those who rode as children, those who spent their girlhood years dreaming of owning a pony, and those who have made a lifelong hobby or career out of riding. Each story reveals how horses have made a difference — and an impact — in the lives of these women. The bonds formed, the paths ridden, and the hills climbed all combine in this provocative, compelling anthology. With a foreword by best-selling novelist Jane Smiley, Why We Ride offers a reflective view on the relationships between women and horses.

Here's an excerpt from the book - to whet your appetite:

I have been in love with horses since I can remember. And I know I’m not alone as I remember images of that first glimpse, sensations of that first touch, and ultimately the exhilaration of that first riding lesson. As a young girl - I was hooked. But it wasn’t until junior high that I found my true love.

Like dog owners who profess their breed of dog as the only one they’ll ever own for reasons ranging from loyalty to intelligence, personality or “just because of the way he makes me feel,” horse owners are no different. We choose a horse for her beauty, her ability, or for what we see of ourselves, reflected in her. I found beauty in the racehorse, the thoroughbred racehorse - a beauty that captured my heart long before a boy ever did. Enticed by their long, slender legs and narrow faces – I treasured the climb upon their back, the long view down from above, and the effortless movement of their long strides, the sensation of the ground passing under us as if Pegasus had taken flight. But mostly, I love their passion to run and how their sweaty bodies glisten in the sun, sweat dripping from their bellies to the ground - a passion so intense that it seeps through every bead of sweat that tickles their skin, in every muscle that twitches. The prancing, the inability to stand still, the glaze in their eyes as they near the racetrack – that reveals their spirit. That tells their story.

Wow. Can anybody relate to that? I know I can. To learn more about Verna, please visit her website www.vernadreisbach.com We hope to hear more from her in the future, and in the meantime, try and find a copy of WHY WE RIDE. Sounds like a winner!

Horse Books and GoodReads

Besides being a writer, I'm also an avid reader (especially anything about a horse) and I thought I'd mention a couple of recent reads that might be new to you. WAR HORSE, by well-known British author Michael Morpurgo, is now being made into a movie by Steven Spielberg, due to come out in August, 2011.



Told in first person from the horse's point of view, it's the story of Joey, a horse who is sold to the cavalry during World War One, and who experiences the horror of war in the trenches of France. But he still remembers his young master, Albert, from the farm where he grew up. Will he ever see him again? This is quite a touching story, and you might enjoy finding a copy and reading it before the movie comes out next year.

DREAM OF NIGHT, by Heather Henson, is a recent release. Told from three different viewpoints - an ex-race horse, an abused girl, and an aging horsewoman who takes them both in, it's a quick read and you might enjoy it. I did.

I belong to a reader's site called Goodreads. It's a lot of fun to connect with other people and see what they are reading. If you enjoy reading and finding new books, you might like it, too. Here's their main page: http://www.goodreads.com/ and here's my page, if you'd like to friend me on there: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3421565.Linda_Benson

Happy Reading, everyone! Any other good books you'd like to share?

Secretariat - the movie

I saw the movie Secretariat last night, and it was grand. Not only does it showcase our greatest horse athlete of all time (winner of the 1973 Triple Crown -set track records for Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes that still stand - appeared on cover of Sports Illustrated, Time Magazine, and Newsweek) but the movie is a great human interest story and great family entertainment.



The actors are wonderful and I really enjoyed watching Diane Lane portray Secretariat's owner, Penny Chenery, as she stood up to the "good old boy" fraternity of horse racing and gave us all something to cheer about.









Five different horses, four thoroughbreds and a quarter horse, portrayed "Big Red" during the film, although none were quite so magnificent as the actual horse himself (pictured above.) The racing scenes are quite thrilling, with up close photography that brings you right into the action.

There may be a few horse people that have tiny quibbles about the accuracy of a few scenes, but this is not a documentary, but instead a warm and rousing movie that had the audience at the edge of their seats.

For people who would like to know more about this great horse, I highly recommend the book by William Nack (who shows up, Bill Nack, as a character in the film.)

SECRETARIAT - The Making of a Champion, Wiliam Nack, Da Capo Press

Secretariat died at the age of 19, suffering from laminitis, and his autopsy revealed a heart twice the size of a normal horse.

Some reflect this may have led to his greatness.

Go see this film. Take the family. You won't be sorry.

Reading about Horses

When I was a horse-crazy kid (before I became a horse-crazy adult) I read everything I could get my hands on about horses. I made a goal of reading every horse book I could find in our library, in the kids section - anyway. That habit has carried over to this day, so I'm always on the look-out for a good horse book. (Hint: Writers love books - so we read a lot, too :-))

Here are two recent horse novels (published in 2010) that I truly enjoyed - and you might, also:

The Outside of a Horse, by Ginny Rorby

Dial Books for Young Readers/2010

The Outside of a Horse deals with the power of horses to heal. We all know the expression, right? The Outside of a Horse is good for the Inside of a Man (or Woman.)

This novel is the story of Hannah Gale, whose dad returns from the war in Iraq a different man than when he left. With her family structure in shambles, Hannah retreats to the solace of horses at a nearby stable. There's lots of details here for horse-lovers, from Parelli techniques to Triple Crown winners to rescue animals, but it is ultimately Hannah's story. She's a wonderful character, who has been dealt a raw hand in life. How she deals with it, and how she attempts to heal both her dad and herself, makes for a very moving story. Highly recommended.

Riding Invisible, by Sandra Alonzo

Hyperion/ 2010

Riding Invisible is told in journal format, and when you first pick up this book, it appears to appeal to a younger audience. Don't be dissuaded, though, the story packs a punch. It's the journal of Yancy, who runs away with his beloved horse Shy, after his brother Will (diagnosed with conduct disorder) has threatened harm to Shy. We've all threatened to run away with our horses, right? But what if you had to, to save your horse? And considering that Yancy starts out without much of a plan, riding through the paved streets of Southern California without telling his parents he's leaving, well . . .


Riding Invisible is both an adventure story and a serious story of a family coming to grips with a difficult situation, and a boy finding his own courage and voice through it all. Wonderful book, and highly recommended.


You can probably find both of these books in the YA (young adult) section of your nearest bookstore or library. Or you can put them on your Christmas list. I bet you'll like them.


Can you recommend any good horse books you've read recently? We'd all like you to read ours, of course, but there are lots of other good books out there, and we love to share. Tell us what you'd recommend.

An Old Cowboy and a Blaze-faced Horse

by Laura Crum


Led and Lad. That’s who I’ve been thinking about lately. Led was the cowboy who taught my uncle to rope. And Lad was the horse who taught me to ride. The two of them are connected in more than one way.

Led was the last working cowboy on a famous old ranch in these parts. In the end this ranch became a state park, and Led ended up living on my uncle’s small horse ranch. Led was not only a working cowboy, but also a competitive rodeo team roper—in the 1940’s. As an old man, he taught my uncle, just beginning his team roping career, the value of a good rope horse. And thus we come to Lad.

Previous to Led’s instruction, my uncle, raised on a dairy ranch, bought cheap trading horses and tried to rope on them. The horses had no experience and neither did my (then young) uncle. The results were not spectacular. It was Led who began to teach my uncle the basics of team roping and helped him to find and buy Lad, a registered Quarter Horse who had been trained to be a competitive team roping horse.

Lad may have been the first registered horse my uncle bought. For sure he was the most expensive horse my uncle had ever purchased to that date. Lad cost six hundred dollars, the equivalent of six thousand these days, a fair price for a middle of the road rope horse.

Lad was not a fancy horse. Foundation bred and fairly coarse and common looking, Lad was dark brown and had a plain head and a big blaze. He had been raised on a ranch and was nobody’s pet. But he knew his job and was well broke enough that a kid could ride him (and I did—though he spooked occasionally and dumped me once in awhile). Lad and another old rope horse named Tovy effectively taught me to ride.

Both Led and Lad were a constant part of my life for many years when I was young. The old man and the horse gave me the background that is still my basic footing in the horse biz. They knew, none better, the true cowboy way. They were tough, effective, fair, unsentimental critters, and from them I gained a sensibility I still have, though I’ve modified it a bit over time.

My uncle, the most unsentimental of the lot, did give Lad a good long retirement and kept him until he died. As for Led, his story is sadder. In his old age he fell in love with a young woman and left my uncle’s place to live with her. She eventually found a younger man and essentially threw the old cowboy out, leaving him to end his days with a nephew who lived in a big city. Led wrote me a letter before he died, saying that he little thought he’d meet his end so far from horses and all that he’d loved. I wrote him back, but I knew that no words of mine could change the pain of that situation.

I often think of Led and Lad and am grateful for the tradition and way of life that they brought to me. Though Led was an old man when I knew him, we often talked horses together, and I learned a great deal from him. And the knowledge he passed to my uncle, my uncle passed to me. From the time I was very young, I knew how to tie a proper horseman’s knot and how to get along with a snorty old rope horse (this would be Lad). I rode my uncle’s many trading horses, I brought in the cattle, I helped my uncle start young horses. By the time I was eighteen, I was starting colts on my own. I spent two years working on a commercial cattle ranch and several summers working for a mountain pack station. When I went to work for professional horse trainers in my late twenties, I had a background that helped me to evaluate what I saw and take the parts that worked for me and discard the rest. Eventually I progressed to training my own cutting horse and competing on him (reasonably successfully-—see my previous posts titled “Winning” and “Once Upon A Time” for that story), and finally to breaking and training team roping horses for myself and my friends. I made some pretty nice rope horses, if I say so myself. And it was essentially because of Led and Lad that I had this knowledge.

Today, it is this foundation that helps free me to make my own choices. Because I know how the cowboy thing is really done, I’m not buffaloed by others’ opinions. I feel comfortable following my own path. If I enjoy trail riding on my steady bombproof horse (wearing my cozy Ugg boots) and don’t need to compete and train any more, I’m OK with myself about that. And I owe this confidence very largely to the old cowboy and the blaze-faced horse. I still take my son to the roping arena to ride with my uncle and the other ropers, even though I no longer care to rope. But I want my son to absorb the same tradition I absorbed, to learn how the thing is done from people who can really get the job done. I’m hoping this will free him and give him confidence, just as it has for me. (And no, I’m not saying that team ropers are more skilled than people of other horse disciplines. By and large—this is a generalization—they are practical, competent horsemen—if you really can’t ride and deal with a horse it is pretty much impossible to go full blast down the arena and rope and turn a steer. Thus the event itself weeds out those who have no horsemanship skills at all. On the other hand, many ropers know little about the fine points of working with a horse and their horsemanship can be a pretty crude thing. However, people who rope have to do more than just talk the talk.)

I’m guessing that lots of you in other horseback disciplines have had a mentor or a special horse that really gave you a grounding in the horse biz. Certainly many people who write in here have given very helpful, insightful opinions in the past, when it comes to training and relating to horses, and just life in general. Anybody have any stories to share on this subject? I’d love to hear your take on it.

PS--It’s a good thing I’ve got an indoor activity right now, as it has rained non-stop for almost ten days and no riding is happening here at all. My riding ring looks like a holding pond. My hairy, muddy horses are squelching through the slop. So far all are sound, healthy, eating well, keeping their weight on… knock on wood. The saddle horses don’t seem to mind the break from work. My thirty year old pasture pets are warm and dry under their blankets. During a brief lull yesterday I pulled on my rubber boots and walked around all corrals and pastures, ascertaining that every horse does have plenty of dry ground where he can get out of the mud (and I could see by the signs that they were spending time there). So things are going reasonably well, considering. But it is not fun horsekeeping weather.

It is, however, ideal weather for writing, and I have been getting quite a bit of writing done on book #12. And, as you can see by the sidebar, I’m also getting ready to announce the arrival of book #11. Yep, “Going, Gone” comes out this spring; I’ve put a short synopsis on my website, for those who are interested. This book centers around the murder of a livestock auctioneer, and involves a rescue horse, nefarious kill buyers, and a heroic horse blogger, as well as a thrilling (if I say so myself) horseback chase scene, so there should be something there for everybody. Not to mention “Going, Gone” features illustrations by Janet Huntington of Mugwump Chronicles, so all you fans of mugwump won’t want to miss her very nice drawings.

The book will be available in April, and I believe that you can already preorder it from Amazon and/or the publisher. However, I am planning to announce a special offer for horse bloggers only, so stay tuned for that. Until then, stay dry. Cheers--Laura

Winter, Horses, Books, and Life

by Laura Crum


Its that time of year again. The days are short and chilly and we have rain (or snow) and the horse corrals are muddy (or frozen). Most of us aren’t riding as much as we were and its easy to feel guilty about that (see my previous post on “Taking a Break”). Its also easy to feel down this time of year and focus on problems, like my saintly kid’s horse who wasn’t a saint on his last few rides (see my previous post on “The Lazy Horse”). These last six months have brought me the loss of three friends—two to death and one to disagreement, and its easy to feel sad about that. My husband and son have colds…well, I could go on, but I won’t. Suffice it to say that the winter season can get you down.

But Monday night was the solstice. We lit candles together as a family and acknowledged that we’re turning the corner…now the days will begin getting longer. We’re headed toward spring. And I thought about all the things in my life that are beautiful and delightful, as the candles sparkled in the winter night.

My husband and son are happy and (besides the colds) healthy, as are my horses, dog and cats. Henry may be lazy, but he’s hale and hearty, after going through colic surgery at the age of twenty. How grateful I am for that. We built a little addition to our house this summer—a small separate house with two rooms and a bathroom—much needed, as we live in a 650 sq ft house. This new little house turned out great and we’re so happy with it. I’m grateful for that. We live in a beautiful place where I can keep my horses at home and go trail riding out my front gate. I’m really grateful about that. I have the use of a lovely pasture just ten minutes away to keep my five retired/rescued horses—I’m thrilled about that. I have good friends and family around me. My life is great—I’m very lucky. I try to say “thank you” every single day.

On the writing front, the eleventh book in my mystery series about equine veterinarian Gail McCarthy comes out this spring. Titled “Going, Gone”, it revolves around the murder of a livestock auctioneer, and includes kill buyers, rescue horses, and a heroic horse blogger. Not to mention, for those of you who are fans of mugwump chronicles, “Going, Gone” features illustrations by mugwump herself. I’m sure you will all agree that the book is worth its purchase price for Janet’s drawings alone.

I hope that those who have enjoyed my books in the past, or enjoyed my blog posts on EI, will read “Going, Gone”. Many of my horses are used as characters in the story, and my local trails provide much of the background. I think you will find lots to interest you, and I’d love to get your reviews. The book should be out in April—it can be ordered from the usual sources or directly from the publisher—ordering info is on my website.

Currently I’m hard at work on book number twelve. The publisher has agreed to buy this book and release it in Spring 2012. Since my goal has always been to write and publish a dozen books in this series, I’m pretty tickled to be working on number twelve, knowing it has a berth. I’ve been very fortunate in my writing career, and I’m grateful for that, too.

Finally, I’ve very much enjoyed writing blog posts for EI, and getting to know those of you who write back. Season’s greetings to all, and I hope many blessings come your way. The earth is now tilting back toward the sun, for us in the northern hemisphere; may the coming year be a good one. Cheers--Laura

Endings and Beginnings

Hello,

My thanks to all the readers who shared their wonderful stories with me when I posted about losing my horse Topper. I sat and figured how long it’s been since I haven’t either loaned or leased a horse. It’s been twenty years! Even with Topper in retirement, I still felt connected to him.

He’s been laid to rest in the same field as my first horse, Spencer, who passed away as well. It makes me happy to know that they’re together. When I bought Topper it was because Spencer was getting a little too old to jump and I anticipated lots of jealous behavior. There was some if I was riding Topper and Spencer was in the ring or the field adjoining it, but in the main he was more depressed about not working. We put him back to work as a lesson horse and he was too busy with his new career teaching beginning riders to worry about Topper and me.

Topper was magnificent to look at and an amazingly talented fellow. In fact, there was one judge in particular who always placed him, pretty much no matter what I did in the saddle. When I retired him, I had guilt because he’d been limping and my trainer said it was the shoes. We had the farrier out a few times and it got somewhat better, but he still seemed stiff off and on. My instinct had been to get an equine vet whom I knew and respected, but was not the vet for this facility, out to see him. When my trainer disagreed, I demurred.

When I moved to another barn, the trainer there called the vet I liked best, who was in fact the vet for her facility, and he found Topper had a cyst on his cannon bone. We sent films up to Cornell, but there was too much degenerative arthritis around the leg at this point and they advised retiring him. My in-law’s farm is Shangri-La for horses and I know he was happy there, but I’m still kicking myself for not trusting my instincts and overruling my trainer right away. I might have been able to correct the problem surgically and have had Topper with me a few more years before retirement. I learned the lesson of always making sure you’re comfortable with a facility’s vet for everything, not just the basics, because it can be difficult to bring in someone else.

I may not have a horse of my own again. Instead I’ll be a horse mom catching a ride where I can, but I have many years of happy memories and lots of experience to help my kids. Now that it’s fall and it’s the perfect time of year for riding. I’m going to make time for a Mommy ride!

Sincerely,

Mary

www.marypaine.com

Death Reins In

Hi Everyone,

I have been out of the loop for some time and do apologize. Kids are back in school and life is sort of getting back into a routine that I can manage.

I wanted to share something with the readers here and get some opinions. I had a conversation with a literary agent a couple of weeks ago who said that she heard horse fiction does not sell well. This really bothered me for obvious reasons. Do you all buy that? If so, why? I believe that there are a lot of readers out there who want to read anything and everything if it concerns horses. Let's face it, horse folks are a passionate group of people and there are a lot of us. I say we make some noise! Support horse related fiction, movies, etc!

For those of you who have never picked up one of my mysteries, I thought I'd give you a taste over the next few weeks and post some chapters from my second book in the series--Death Reins In. The bad thing is, I only have my original copy on the computer so you'll get some typos with it, but the story does not change. Due to copyright I cannot post the entire manuscript, but I can give you a good chunk. Hopefully, you like the series and you may decide to head to the local book store and pick up a copy of one of the books. Keep in mind that if you got a copy of each one of our books here on Equestrian Ink and put them in a basket with some horse treats, maybe a lead rope, some other goodies, you would have one heck of a nice holiday gift (hint, hint).

Have a wonderful week. Happy riding and reading.

Cheers,
Michele


Death Reins In


PROLOGUE

Memories raced through Bob Pratt’s mind—both good and bad—as he lay gagged and tied in the trunk of the car. He hadn’t seen the make or model, didn’t even really know what had happened other than he’d been ambushed from behind as he went to get into his truck at the end of the day. He’d worked late, jotting down his notes on one of Eq Tech’s new supplements, specifically designed for racehorses. Bob didn’t even really feel it when he’d been slammed over the head--by what he didn’t know, by whom, he could only guess at. There were a handful of enemies who’d want to see Bob in this state, and probably a few people he called friend. The trunk smelled like dirty socks and fast food. He could hear the faint thumpings of rap music and occasionally he thought he might have recognized the sound of laughter coming from inside the car. Did that mean there was more than one person who’d taken him when he’d left work? Probably. He wasn’t exactly a little guy at over six feet. They knew he would’ve fought, so the sneak attack had to have been carefully planned.

His head ached as if it had been shoved into a vice, making it almost impossible to think, but he wanted to try—try and play out what had happened. He needed to remember if he’d heard anyone say anything, if he noticed anything at all. Damn, he’d been so caught up in his findings that he simply had not been paying attention. He had to try though, had to, in case he ever made it back alive. But the deep hole in his gut told him that wasn’t going to happen, which led him to one continual thought streaming through his mind: his sister Audrey, and what this would do to her if he didn’t come back. Oh hell, what if his theories had been right? What if he had stumbled onto something sinister and revealed too much to her when they’d spoken the other night over dinner? He didn’t think he had. As soon as she’d guessed something was wrong with him, which Audrey was so astute at, he’d tried hard to blow it off, said it was a little woman trouble, an issue at work here and there, that sort of thing. But he knew his sister well. He knew that nothing escaped her and if he’d said one wrong word, she might have picked up on it. He had to get out of this. He could feel his heart racing, beating hard against his chest, could smell the horse he’d been working with at the center on him, now mixed in with his own fear and angst.

Oh God, what if? What if he didn’t get out of this? Poor Audrey. He’d given her problems all of their lives and now—finally--when the two of them had made amends over the past few years and grown close again, he was leaving her. All alone. He loved her. She was a good sister. She had a sweet smile, warm-hearted nature, and a gentle touch with her animals that everyone who knew her admired. And she’d never given up on him. Never. She’d always believed in him and picked him up off the ground. Even when he’d turned his back on her, his sister had been right there with open arms, cheering him on. She was the reason he’d been able to not only maintain an equine veterinary practice, but also a position as a top researcher with Eq Tech in some very exciting fields of equine medicine and health.

The car slowed. What were they going over, an old bridge, a railroad crossing? A plume of exhaust wafted throughout the trunk, dizzying his already altered senses. Noises. More noise from outside; and the smell. It had changed, drastically. Petroleum; yes, that’s what it was. And something else? Food? Trash? Death? A mixture of all three. Then it hit him. They’d crossed the border. He was in Mexico. Oh Jesus, they were surely taking him there to kill him. He knew now that what he’d found out was the truth. And they knew he’d discovered it. The back of his neck broke out in a cold sweat.

The road wound around several curves, jostling him from side to side. Then, through the drone of the car and the grade of the trunk, he sensed they were going up a steep slope, maybe a mountain. And then he got it. He knew where they were going. Soon enough they’d be skirting the Baja coastline. He’d made this trip himself before. Would they kill him there along the highway down to Ensenada and dump him in the ocean? Or would they take him east and leave him to rot in the desert? Either way, Bob realized he was totally screwed.

He should have lived differently. Should have made peace with the people he’d hurt. But it was too late for that, if he was right about who was behind this abduction. He would not be coming back. He’d been found out and would be dead before the sun came up. He was sure of it. Bob prayed his sister would accept that and drop it. Oh God, how he prayed for that.



CHAPTER ONE

Michaela Bancroft smiled as she placed a hand over Genevieve Pellegrino’s smaller one. Together they brushed the horse. Michaela spoke in calm hushed tones as the little girl’s father, Joe, Michaela’s good friend from childhood, had directed her. At first Michaela had been apprehensive about working with Gen. Joe had never told her, until she started giving her riding lessons, that Gen was autistic. She'd thought that maybe she was just quiet and a bit slow. Michaela hadn’t been around Joe’s family much after high school. Although they had always remained good friends, life seemed to get in the way. It was her Uncle Lou’s murder that had brought them back together.

“That’s good. See how clean he’s getting?” Michaela said. “What a good job you’re doing, Gen. Look at how pretty you’re making Booger and he likes that a lot.” Working with the little girl was as therapeutic for Michaela as it was for Gen. Maybe even more so.

Once Booger had the therapeutic saddle on him and Michaela slid a headstall over his ears, she kept him on a lead line and put Gen up, leading him to the arena. Over the course of half an hour she watched as the child relaxed into the saddle and seemed to almost become one with the horse, a smile appearing on her face as she asked him to trot. Booger performed his version, which was more of a very fast walk, semi-jog. But Gen didn’t seem to care that Booger was lazy. An easy calm came over the little girl’s face and she truly looked relaxed up on the horse.

“Okay, Gen. It’s time to get off now and we’ll give him a brush-down. Are you ready?”

Gen nodded. Michaela helped her dismount. With a slight movement of the hand, Michaela pushed aside the strands of curly black hair that had fallen into the girl’s eyes. “You did a great job today. I am so proud of you.” She removed the school saddle from Booger’s back and set it inside the tack room, which was in serious need of an overhaul. She’d have to get on her assistant trainer Dwayne about that. He knew better than to keep things in such disarray.

She brought a soft bristle horse brush back to Gen and placed it into her hands. She knew to keep the barn quiet when the girl was there. No country/western on the radio blaring through the breezeway, and she’d asked Dwayne to wait to turn any of the horses out. He also knew to keep his distance when Gen was there. She figured at this time, mid-morning, he was likely making a feed run. They were getting low on grass hay.

As Gen slowly brushed Booger, Michaela stood back and watched her, knowing it gave the girl a sense of peace and accomplishment. There was a connection being forged between horse and child that could only benefit both of them. “Why don’t we give him a treat?” she asked in a soothing tone.

She didn’t get a response other than a slight glance from Gen. It was important though, she’d learned from Joe, that Gen be apprised of all that was going on. It helped her stay focused, but without overwhelming her. Gen handed her back the brush and followed her into the feed room; the smell of molasses and fresh cut alfalfa perfumed the air. Michaela grabbed a blue bucket off one of the post nails and scooped it into a trashcan filled with oats. “Okay. I think he’ll like this. What do you think?”

“Yes. I think so.”

Good. She’d spoken to her today. That made Michaela wonder about Joe’s offer. Should she take it? She wanted to help out. It felt so damn good to work with Gen, but what if she screwed up? What if someone got hurt? She couldn’t take it if that happened. She didn’t want that kind of responsibility, but the pleasure and peace it gave her to work with Gen brought her senses to life. It was as if she’d found her calling.

They gave the horse his oats, and after a good brushdown put him back in his stall. Taking him to the wash rack and bathing him would be too much for the child. She’d wait and let Katie, her afternoon student, wash him when she was finished riding.

After putting Booger away, Michaela was startled by the sound of a car horn. Oh no. She looked at Gen’s face, which suddenly turned ashen. The car pulled to a stop outside the breezeway and Michaela heard Katie’s voice. “Michaela, Michaela, my dad brought me early. I wanted to come help.” The nine-year-old bounded down the breezeway.

Michaela started to bring a finger up to her lips to quiet the enthusiastic girl, but it was too late. Gen let out a horrible, almost primal scream. Her eyes widened with fear.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Katie yelled out, only exacerbating the problem.
Michaela was stuck between the two children and for a moment stood paralyzed, looking from one sobbing girl to the next. Regaining her wits, she went to Gen and in a low voice started reassuring as she wrapped her arms tightly around her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. No one can hurt you. I’m here. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

“Michaela?” Jude Davis appeared in the doorway. Katie got behind her father and peered around him, looking terrified.

“Call her parents please. Their number is on the schedule list in my office. I’m going to take her to the house.” He nodded and Michaela picked Gen up, continuing to talk to her as the child began to calm down.

“Can I help you?” Jude asked.

“No, just please call her dad and ask them to come over.”
Gen was a tiny girl for her age, but not so small that Michaela didn’t feel her fifty-some-odd pounds in her lower back. Going through the back door, she took the girl into her family room, where she closed all of the curtains and sat the child down on the couch. Gen had stopped twisting around and now fell quiet. Ah, better; but Michaela felt horrible.

Minutes later, Joe and Maryann Pellegrino came through the door. “I am sorry,” Michaela said.

Joe waved a beefy hand at her. “Happens.” He looked like an Italian Pillsbury Dough Boy, concern furrowing his bushy eyebrows. “I’m sorry we ran out on you like that.” They’d dropped Gen off today rather than stay to watch her lesson, which they usually did, because they’d had some errands to run.

Michaela felt responsible because she’d insisted they go on ahead and take care of what they needed to with their other four kids. She’d assured them she could handle Gen. What had she been thinking? Well, she now knew what she’d have to tell Joe about his proposition.

Maryann contrasted Joe, being ramrod thin and almost frail looking. She headed straight to her daughter and turned back to Michaela as she sat down next to Gen, grappling for something in her purse, finally finding a medication bottle. “It’s okay, Michaela. This happens from time to time. Do you have a glass of water? I’d like her to take this.” Maryann was calm and collected. The premature lines on her face told Michaela that she shoved much of her worry into the recesses of her soul and likely dealt with them late at night, so as not to worry others in her family. She couldn’t imagine what she went through day to day to manage her large brood, and Joe on top of it.

“Sure. No problem. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, though.” She handed Maryann water and watched as the woman continued to calm her child. Michaela asked Joey what the medicine was.

“Some herbal treatment. Maryann is all into these supplements and herbs and things. Next thing you know, we’ll be having gurus by the house or she’ll be taking the poor kid to yoga or something crazy like that.” Maryann shot him a dirty look. “I’m sure they’re good for her, but I’d feel better if they was FDA approved.”
Maryann stood and took Gen’s hand. “We better get going.”
Michaela nodded.

“You did the right thing, Michaela. No sorries needed. I’d like to talk with you about what Joe and I have been up to, because it concerns you, but she gets tired after these bouts,” Maryann said. “Maybe Joe can tell you while I put Genevieve in the car.”

“Tell me what?”

“We’ve gone ahead and recommended you as a therapeutic riding instructor.”
Michaela’s jaw dropped.

Maryann whispered a goodbye as she closed the door behind her and Michaela turned back to Joe. “What is she talking about? I told you I’d think about it. Why would you put in a recommendation without asking me?”

“We was thinking, Maryann and me, and we got to talking that you’ve been so good for Gen that we went to her therapist and the center she goes to for treatment and told them you would be perfect for the job. Therapeutic riding helps a lot of autistic kids and we don’t have nothing like it out here in the desert. We think you’d be perfect for it.”

“Oh no. No, I can’t do that. Look what happened today. And,” she shook a finger at him, “you had no right to do that without running it by me.”

“But you handled it the right way. The way you were supposed to. You love kids. You make my daughter happy. Give this a try. I see how much it does for you too. After your divorce and then losing your uncle, I know what you’ve been through, and I see you smiling when you’re teaching my daughter. Working with her makes you happy and you’re damn good at it and, trust me, after all these years I’ve seen the good and the bad in this thing, and it takes quite a person to work with these kids. You got what it takes.”

She shook her head vehemently. “Joe…. Oh, man, I don’t know.” She knew that he was right about being happy when she worked with his little girl. But a center? A therapeutic center where she taught more kids? Granted, she now had the facilities to do it after inheriting her uncle’s place, but could she do it? Really?

“Will you at least talk to the gal from the center?”

“I don’t know, Joe. I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“No one’s gonna get hurt.” He raised an eyebrow, then wiggled the other. He knew how to work it. That always got her. For years she’d been trying to figure out how to wiggle just one eyebrow while keeping the other cocked.

Michaela had known Joey since junior high, when they’d bonded over pimiento loaf sandwiches that everyone else thought were gross, and a mutual love for Billy Idol. Joe had been teased for his weight and Michaela had been on the shy side, so they’d formed a friendship that stuck over processed meat and eighties music. Joe was also known around town as the man with a million cousins. He came from a large Italian family whose ties were far reaching and, many suggested, of the unsavory nature. All Michaela knew was that Joe was a good guy with a lot of relatives, who knew how to find out information or get things done that other people seemed to have a problem doing. And, she was indebted to him. If not for him and the cousins, it was unlikely that the person who killed her uncle Lou last year would have been caught.

“Oh God, Joe, why do you do this stuff to me?”

“I think you should think about it,” Jude said. She’d forgotten about him.
Katie stood quietly at the front door. Jude waved her in. The girl wiped her tears, hesitating. She was a petite thing with wavy, blonde hair like her dad’s and a splash of freckles across her nose that reminded Michaela of what she had looked like as a kid. Michaela had never lost the freckles across her nose and even sported a few more since childhood.

Joe went over to Katie. “It’s okay, sweetie. She’ll be fine.”

Jude shook his hand. “She didn’t mean to frighten her. She was excited and…”

“Hey, I got a handful of kids, and a lot of cousins.” He laughed. “I know she didn’t mean no harm and Michaela handled it. You talk to her, see if you can get her to agree to running a center.”

“Think about it, he said as he walked out.
She walked over and pulled Katie into her. “You didn’t mean to upset Gen. We all know that.”

“Why did she scream like that?”

“She’s autistic, honey, which means she doesn’t react the same way you and I do. She actually hears and sees everything going on around her. Like, listen quietly for a minute. Really listen.” They fell quiet. “Did you hear the birds outside? What about the pool running from out back? Can you hear the grandfather clock ticking from the library? And, if a horse got out, I bet we’d hear all the horses go crazy calling out to him. Gen doesn’t filter out the noises in the way that we do. She hears all of them together at once and it’s very loud to her. So, she kind of shuts down to keep the noises out as much as possible. To you, it probably seems like she’s not friendly or she’s weird. But to her, it’s the only way she can handle life.”

“So, when I started yelling, it scared her and on top of all the regular noises she hears it made her really scared, so she started screaming out.”

“Exactly. You’re a smart kid. What do we say we go have that lesson now? I didn’t know you’d be early, but it works out great because I’m going to the horse races tomorrow in Orange County and I need to be at my friend Audrey’s house early in the morning.”

“Okay, let's go!”

Katie ran up ahead of them. Jude walked back to the barn with Michaela. “You’re headed to the races tomorrow, huh? Sounds like fun,” he said.

She sensed a slight hesitation in his voice. Detective Jude Davis and his daughter Katie had come into Michaela’s life while the detective investigated her uncle’s murder. Since that time they’d shared coffee dates, lots of phone calls, even a lunch and one night a glass of wine while Katie scoped out the trophies Michaela had won over the years showing horses. There was something between Michaela and Jude. That much she knew, but what it was exactly, she wasn’t sure. “I am. My friend Audrey Pratt is taking me. We go every year. She used to work with race horses and has a lot of friends in the industry, plus she manages a young woman who is an up and coming country western singer and the girl will be entertaining before the races start. I thought it would be a good time.”

“Sounds like it.” He cleared his throat. “Anyone else going with you?”

“Nope, just me and Audrey.”

“Oh. Well, you’ll be back tomorrow night, won’t you?”

Michaela looked at him, her expression amused. His light blue eyes had darkened, and he palmed his hand through his hair, something he did whenever he seemed nervous. “Actually, no. I’m going on up to Malibu with Audrey and stay with the girl’s mother, another friend of Audrey’s. There are some horses we want to check out. I’m thinking about purchasing a few more, possibly a better lesson horse for Katie since Booger isn’t much of a challenge for her. Audrey takes in animals off the track to let them retire in peace.”

“Ah.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you aren’t too keen on me going?”

“Oh, no. I think you’ll have a great time.”

She stopped and looked at him. “Jude? What’s up?”

He sighed. “Actually…well, I wanted to ask you to dinner. That’s all. I thought it was time we had dinner together. You and me. A real date. Candles, wine, flowers.”

“Oh. A real date.”

He nodded.

“That would be nice. Can you wait a few days?”

He smiled. “I think so.” He squeezed her hand and then let it go.
Michaela’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t had a real date in years. Life was ever changing though, she’d learned that for sure, and although she’d lost quite a bit in the past few years, it made her realize that maybe it was time to live again.