enough, she would make a trip down to the barns to see the October foals.
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Nealy let her breath out in a loud swoosh the minute she entered the warm, moist barn. She inhaled almost immediately, savoring the pungent smell of hay, warmth, and manure. She loved it, felt at home.
She took everything in at a glance, much the way sheâd done back home in Virginia. She knew her duties and the time allotted to each. The barns ran on schedules and she had to run on the same schedule. She ran, her jacket flapping with the breeze, to the stallion barn with its shady overhang and oversize stalls. She knew the barn held twenty-five, sometimes as many as thirty stallions a year. Unfortunately not all the stallions were Blue Diamond studs. Maud had told her earlier that Blue Diamond Farms had an excellent reputation as a breeding operation. People paid handsomely for the privilege of standing their stallions at the farm. As she walked under the overhang, she touched and caressed each stallion curious enough to see what she was about. They knew her now and always whickered softly when she stroked their beautiful heads. âOn my way back, you each get an apple,â she whispered.
Outside she watched the hot walkers take their horses in a counterclockwise walk around the walking ring. It took forty minutes of walking and then a pause for the horses to sip water, at which point, the overheated horses would be back to normal, resting pulse.
She headed for the paddock where Danny Clay, the stud groom, would soon lead Private Dancer to his stall. If she hurried, she could have the stall ready for the stallion by the time Danny got there. All it took was new straw, a shaking of hay, fresh water, and a measure of grain mixture that Jess had concocted for this special stallion. With little grass at this time of year for grazing, Jess had left orders for extra feed for Private Dancer, who was on active stud duty. It was her job to make sure the horse was given preferential treatment, which wasnât hard to do since sheâd developed a rapport with the huge animal. She longed to mount him just to see if heâd let her on his back, but she knew she would never take the chance unless Jess or Maud said it was okay to do so.
Nealy worked in earnest, breaking into a sweat as she forked hay into the stall. She tossed her jacket over the railing and never gave it another thought. She finished just as Danny led the snorting stallion down the middle of the barn to his stall. Nealy stood quietly to the side, waiting to see if the big stallion would pay attention to her. He snorted, reared back, and came down prancing and pawing the concrete. He tossed his head to the side, jerking free of Dannyâs hold, trotted over to the stall, picked up Nealyâs jacket, and backed up until he was abreast of her. His big head bobbed up and down, his signal that she should take the jacket. She did. She slipped it on. âYouâre just an old softie, Dancer,â she whispered. âHowâd you know it was mine, huh? Did it smell like me?â While she talked her hands were busy rubbing and stroking the big animal. âCâmon, now, show me you appreciate this. A little love and devotion go a long way. We both know that.â The stallionâs body quivered as he used his big head to nuzzle Nealyâs neck, making her laugh in delight. âLook what I have for you!â Nealy held out an apple from her pocket. Dancer nodded before he lowered his head to take the apple from the palm of her hand.
âI donât know how you do it, Miss Nealy. That horse wonât take anything from me or Wylie. The truth is, this animal hates Wylie, and Wylie is afraid of him. Maybe Dancer senses his fear. Heâs gentle as a lamb right now. He lets me handle him, but he wonât cozy up to me the way he does you.â
âIâm a girl, Danny. He knows the difference. You have to talk softly, and your hands have to
Â
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Nealy let her breath out in a loud swoosh the minute she entered the warm, moist barn. She inhaled almost immediately, savoring the pungent smell of hay, warmth, and manure. She loved it, felt at home.
She took everything in at a glance, much the way sheâd done back home in Virginia. She knew her duties and the time allotted to each. The barns ran on schedules and she had to run on the same schedule. She ran, her jacket flapping with the breeze, to the stallion barn with its shady overhang and oversize stalls. She knew the barn held twenty-five, sometimes as many as thirty stallions a year. Unfortunately not all the stallions were Blue Diamond studs. Maud had told her earlier that Blue Diamond Farms had an excellent reputation as a breeding operation. People paid handsomely for the privilege of standing their stallions at the farm. As she walked under the overhang, she touched and caressed each stallion curious enough to see what she was about. They knew her now and always whickered softly when she stroked their beautiful heads. âOn my way back, you each get an apple,â she whispered.
Outside she watched the hot walkers take their horses in a counterclockwise walk around the walking ring. It took forty minutes of walking and then a pause for the horses to sip water, at which point, the overheated horses would be back to normal, resting pulse.
She headed for the paddock where Danny Clay, the stud groom, would soon lead Private Dancer to his stall. If she hurried, she could have the stall ready for the stallion by the time Danny got there. All it took was new straw, a shaking of hay, fresh water, and a measure of grain mixture that Jess had concocted for this special stallion. With little grass at this time of year for grazing, Jess had left orders for extra feed for Private Dancer, who was on active stud duty. It was her job to make sure the horse was given preferential treatment, which wasnât hard to do since sheâd developed a rapport with the huge animal. She longed to mount him just to see if heâd let her on his back, but she knew she would never take the chance unless Jess or Maud said it was okay to do so.
Nealy worked in earnest, breaking into a sweat as she forked hay into the stall. She tossed her jacket over the railing and never gave it another thought. She finished just as Danny led the snorting stallion down the middle of the barn to his stall. Nealy stood quietly to the side, waiting to see if the big stallion would pay attention to her. He snorted, reared back, and came down prancing and pawing the concrete. He tossed his head to the side, jerking free of Dannyâs hold, trotted over to the stall, picked up Nealyâs jacket, and backed up until he was abreast of her. His big head bobbed up and down, his signal that she should take the jacket. She did. She slipped it on. âYouâre just an old softie, Dancer,â she whispered. âHowâd you know it was mine, huh? Did it smell like me?â While she talked her hands were busy rubbing and stroking the big animal. âCâmon, now, show me you appreciate this. A little love and devotion go a long way. We both know that.â The stallionâs body quivered as he used his big head to nuzzle Nealyâs neck, making her laugh in delight. âLook what I have for you!â Nealy held out an apple from her pocket. Dancer nodded before he lowered his head to take the apple from the palm of her hand.
âI donât know how you do it, Miss Nealy. That horse wonât take anything from me or Wylie. The truth is, this animal hates Wylie, and Wylie is afraid of him. Maybe Dancer senses his fear. Heâs gentle as a lamb right now. He lets me handle him, but he wonât cozy up to me the way he does you.â
âIâm a girl, Danny. He knows the difference. You have to talk softly, and your hands have to
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