Garvey led the way to the last stall in the row. Inside was a colt named Storm Chaser. Carole had helped groom him the day before and knew he was frisky but friendly. Now she saw that he was already saddled and tied up in his stall, waiting.
“I asked the groom to tack him up,” Garvey explained. He grabbed the colt’s lead line and led him out of the shed row, with Carole following. Outside, the trainer turned in the opposite direction from the racetrack.
“Where are we going?” Carole asked, confused. “The track is the other way.”
“I don’t want to take him on the track today,” Garvey replied without turning around. “One of his shoes is a little loose, and the dirt will only make it worse. There’s a nice-sizedlawn behind the last barn where the horses graze sometimes. We’ll just take him around that a few times.”
Carole still felt confused. Like most racetracks, Bluegrass Park had a grass racecourse, known as the turf course, inside the main dirt track. Some horses specialized in running on grass, some ran only on dirt, and some could go either way. Carole wasn’t sure why Storm Chaser would be able to exercise on a grassy lawn and not on the turf course. For a second she thought about asking Garvey, but then she thought better of it. He was being about as nice as he had ever been since she had met him, and she was afraid the wrong question could turn him mean and defensive again. She didn’t want to take any chances—especially when she was about to take a ride on a real racehorse.
Making a mental note to ask her question later of someone friendlier, she followed Garvey as he led the colt toward the lawn he had mentioned. Carole had passed it a couple of times the day before and seen horses being grazed there, but at this hour it was deserted. In fact, there was nobody in sight at all, since the back of the nearest building blocked it from view.
Garvey led Storm Chaser to a spot near the middle of the lawn. He waited for Carole to catch up, then nodded briskly. “Okay,” he said. “I want you to get up there, then trot him around the perimeter three or four times.”
“But I should stop him if he’s favoring the foot with the loose shoe, right?” Carole asked. “Which foot is it, anyway?”She hadn’t noticed anything off about the colt’s stride, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
“What?” Garvey said. “Oh, um, it’s his left fore. Pull him up if he’s having a problem.”
“Okay,” Carole said. She gazed up at the tall colt and smiled eagerly. “I’m ready.”
Garvey unsnapped the horse’s lead line and gave Carole a leg up. The ex-boxer was so big and strong that it was like being boosted by an elevator. The stirrups on the small saddle were higher than Carole was used to, so her right foot missed its mark as she settled into the saddle.
She never had a chance to make a second attempt at the stirrup. As soon as her rear touched the saddle, Storm Chaser let out a tremendous snort and bolted forward.
Taken by surprise, Carole grabbed a handful of the horse’s mane in her left hand, trying desperately to regain her balance. She gripped the colt’s sides tightly with both legs and scrabbled desperately for the reins with her right hand.
Storm Chaser came to an abrupt stop after only a few yards, but he wasn’t finished. He whirled around and kicked up his heels in a quick buck and twist. By dropping the reins and grabbing his mane in both hands, Carole managed to stay aboard, though her left foot was jolted out of the stirrup. When the colt suddenly lowered his head and shook it violently, then whirled around and took off once again, Carole lost her seat and went flying off to one side.
She landed hard on the ground, the breath knocked outof her. A quick glance showed her that Storm Chaser had stopped acting up as soon as she was off his back. Within seconds he was grazing peacefully nearby.
Carole soon determined that, luckily, she wouldn’t suffer
“I asked the groom to tack him up,” Garvey explained. He grabbed the colt’s lead line and led him out of the shed row, with Carole following. Outside, the trainer turned in the opposite direction from the racetrack.
“Where are we going?” Carole asked, confused. “The track is the other way.”
“I don’t want to take him on the track today,” Garvey replied without turning around. “One of his shoes is a little loose, and the dirt will only make it worse. There’s a nice-sizedlawn behind the last barn where the horses graze sometimes. We’ll just take him around that a few times.”
Carole still felt confused. Like most racetracks, Bluegrass Park had a grass racecourse, known as the turf course, inside the main dirt track. Some horses specialized in running on grass, some ran only on dirt, and some could go either way. Carole wasn’t sure why Storm Chaser would be able to exercise on a grassy lawn and not on the turf course. For a second she thought about asking Garvey, but then she thought better of it. He was being about as nice as he had ever been since she had met him, and she was afraid the wrong question could turn him mean and defensive again. She didn’t want to take any chances—especially when she was about to take a ride on a real racehorse.
Making a mental note to ask her question later of someone friendlier, she followed Garvey as he led the colt toward the lawn he had mentioned. Carole had passed it a couple of times the day before and seen horses being grazed there, but at this hour it was deserted. In fact, there was nobody in sight at all, since the back of the nearest building blocked it from view.
Garvey led Storm Chaser to a spot near the middle of the lawn. He waited for Carole to catch up, then nodded briskly. “Okay,” he said. “I want you to get up there, then trot him around the perimeter three or four times.”
“But I should stop him if he’s favoring the foot with the loose shoe, right?” Carole asked. “Which foot is it, anyway?”She hadn’t noticed anything off about the colt’s stride, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
“What?” Garvey said. “Oh, um, it’s his left fore. Pull him up if he’s having a problem.”
“Okay,” Carole said. She gazed up at the tall colt and smiled eagerly. “I’m ready.”
Garvey unsnapped the horse’s lead line and gave Carole a leg up. The ex-boxer was so big and strong that it was like being boosted by an elevator. The stirrups on the small saddle were higher than Carole was used to, so her right foot missed its mark as she settled into the saddle.
She never had a chance to make a second attempt at the stirrup. As soon as her rear touched the saddle, Storm Chaser let out a tremendous snort and bolted forward.
Taken by surprise, Carole grabbed a handful of the horse’s mane in her left hand, trying desperately to regain her balance. She gripped the colt’s sides tightly with both legs and scrabbled desperately for the reins with her right hand.
Storm Chaser came to an abrupt stop after only a few yards, but he wasn’t finished. He whirled around and kicked up his heels in a quick buck and twist. By dropping the reins and grabbing his mane in both hands, Carole managed to stay aboard, though her left foot was jolted out of the stirrup. When the colt suddenly lowered his head and shook it violently, then whirled around and took off once again, Carole lost her seat and went flying off to one side.
She landed hard on the ground, the breath knocked outof her. A quick glance showed her that Storm Chaser had stopped acting up as soon as she was off his back. Within seconds he was grazing peacefully nearby.
Carole soon determined that, luckily, she wouldn’t suffer
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