Dreaming of Tomorrow. Susan Kohler

her shoulder.

      “Doesn’t having a mare in heat arouse the male horses?” Emily asked.

      “Most of these old boys are geldings,” David grinned, “which means they don’t have all their, umm, original equipment.”

      His running commentary made the show much more interesting for Emily. He was a lively conversationalist, with a subtle sense of humor. Emily forgot her usual awkwardness around men, or more specifically a handsome man, and began to really enjoy herself.

      The gorgeous woman rode up with David’s horse.

      “Will you be okay until I get back?” he asked before mounting the huge black horse.

      “Sure, I’ll be fine.” Emily smiled at him. “Good luck.”

      David mounted and rode his horse over to the warm up arena. Emily watched him between opening and closing the gate. He looked great on a horse, natural and relaxed, but heck, Emily thought, he’d look great anywhere. The teenagers finished and the senior riders started through the course. David was second, right after the gorgeous woman. Someone came over to talk with Emily and she didn’t catch the woman’s name. She did notice the woman’s ride however, it was one of the fastest of the day. Great! She looks terrific and she can ride like a demon!

      David was next. His horse entered the arena looking lazy. Target was a giant, muscular horse, almost coal black. He trudged in, looking like he couldn’t run if he tried. David sat relaxed and held the reins loosely in one hand. Target plodded calmly over to the starting point and stood still. David picked up the reins with both hands and made a clicking sound, and Target exploded into a burst of blinding speed. He wove through the poles as easy as it could be done, then after crossing the finish line he stopped, settled down and plodded slowly out of the arena. The announcer called out his time, and it was the best so far. The time held up after all the riders had run the poles, so David had won the senior event. This time he went in to accept the small sliver plate. He gave the plate to Emily as he left the arena.

      “Here’s a memento for helping us out today.” He dismounted. “Let’s go get something to drink before they begin the next event.”

      “I can’t take this, you won it,” Emily protested.

      “I have plenty of ‘em, Target here is pretty good.” He patted the horse with affection. “In fact, I usually don’t take the awards home anymore, enough is enough.”

      Emily was touched by the gesture. “Then I’d love to take it, thanks.”

      “You’re welcome.” He smiled, taking Emily’s hand. “Come on, it only takes about five minutes for them to set up the next event.”

      They walked a short distance to a very nice looking motor home with a horse trailer hitched to it. There were several folding chairs next to the trailer.

      “Have a seat. What can I get you? I have Coke and beer, and of course iced tea and even water.”

      “I’d love a Coke.” Emily smiled at him.

      “Diet or regular?” David asked.

      “Regular, please,” Emily replied ruefully, “I hate the diet stuff.”

      “Me, too.” David grinned.

      David walked into the motor home and brought out the Cokes. It seemed like the minute he handed the cold can to Emily, the announcer called for the next event to begin.

      “Ain’t that the way?” David stood up. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Three

      They walked back over to the arena. The next event started without any surprises, but about halfway through the twelve and under age group a horse stepped on Emily’s foot. David was right there as Emily gasped with the pain of having a thousand pound animal in steel shoes land on her.

      “Just elbow him in the ribs and tell him to move his big as . . . ah body,” he advised.

      Before she could do it, David leaned down and picked up the horse’s hoof, holding it high in the air as Emily moved her foot out of the way.

      “Are you okay?” David asked.

      “It’s tender but I think it’s all right,” she told him, shaking and flexing her ankle.

      “It’s a good thing you wore boots.” David was relieved.

      “I borrowed them from Laura,” Emily admitted. “She insisted I wear boots here.”

      “Laura’s a very smart woman,” David muttered with a strange look on his face.

      “The next event is called Flying Figure Eight,” David said as they got back to the job of opening the gate. “It’s a run down to the end of the arena, with a figure eight loop around those three poles and a run back. It’s fairly easy and the times should be quite fast, around 10 seconds each. The whole event should go fairly quickly. Then we’ll run quadrangle. After that we’ll have a lunch break.” David smiled almost shyly then asked, “Will you have lunch with me?”

      “Are you sure?” Emily said with surprise. “That’s going above and beyond helping out the novice.”

      “I’d really enjoy it,” David said gently, realizing that Emily was shy.

      During the event there was an incident when one of the horses, another one of what turned out to be a relatively low percentage of arena-shy horses, backed hard into a sleeping horse tied to a rail by the arena entrance. The second horse, surprised and resentful at being awakened out of a nap, bit the first horse and pulled back from the rail he was tied to, fighting the rope. The rope broke and the already upset horse fell over backwards.

      In spite of her fear of horses, Emily was scared sick that the beautiful animal might be hurt. She hurried over to the animal who was just rising to his feet, getting there even before David. Gingerly, she reached out and caught the end of the lead rope, talking quietly to the nervous horse. She looked down and saw blood running down the horse’s foreleg just as David got to her.

      “David, he’s hurt!” Emily said in a shaky voice, pointing at the trail of blood.

      “Let me look at him,” David said, looking Emily in the eye. “Are you okay holding him?”

      “Sure.” Still, she surrendered the end of the rope gratefully when another rider came over and offered to help.

      “He’s okay.” David straightened up. “It’s a fairly minor cut.”

      Addressing the gathered riders, he asked, “Where’s Mike?”

      A young man jogged over. “I’m here. What happened? Someone said Max was hurt.”

      “He got spooked and broke his rope when one of the horses backed into him. I thought I told you not to leave him unattended so close to the arena,” David said with a trace of anger. “His leg is cut but it’s not too bad. If I were you, I’d bandage it up and take him home. Your saddle is pretty scraped up too.”

      “You’d like me to take him home, wouldn’t you? Especially since I’m your closest competitor for the annual high point trophy,” the younger man snapped angrily.

      One of the other riders spoke up, “Don’t be a jerk, Mike. Your horse is hurt and it’s your own darn fault. Do what’s right for your horse and worry about the trophy later.”

      “You’re right, Cap.” Mike turned to David looking abashed and said, “Sorry about that. I was just upset. I really am more concerned about Max than any trophy.”

      “I have some bandages and ointment in my trailer if you need it,” David said with no trace of resentment.

      “No thanks, I’ve got some.” He reached out and took Max’s rope, scratching the big horse’s head affectionately.