Pride (The Eventing Series Book 2) by Natalie Keller Reinert

Author:Natalie Keller Reinert [Reinert, Natalie Keller]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Horses, Equestrian, Three-Day Eventing
Publisher: Natalie Keller Reinert
Published: 2016-04-27T04:00:00+00:00

THE STEPS TO Grace’s house were sagging and creaky, spotted with a furry coat of green moss in places, but the broad porch was clean-swept and shining with a fresh coat of paint, and the front door sported a wooden welcome sign with a carved dressage horse trotting over the letters. I admired the wicker rocking chair and love-seat that sat on a worn oriental rug next to the door, and the old bookshelf that housed an impressive collection of mud boots and clogs on the door’s other side. There was a boot jack and a boot-scraper. There were a few bits sitting in a small round bucket, waiting to be remembered and grabbed on the way back to the barn. There was a knotted coil of orange hay-twine lying on top of a pair of scissors. The little things that identify a horsewoman even before she opens the door and you spy the profusion of equestrian tchotchkes and artwork within the house.

I tapped at the ancient screen door, but Grace was already there, opening it up and letting out a blizzard’s gust of ice-cold air. So she spent plenty of money on her air-conditioning, even though her house was old and probably drafty. I identified strongly with Grace’s priorities.

The cottage was more worn on the inside than the outside, with sagging wooden floors that splintered in some corners, and a living room stuffed with gracelessly aging furniture. There were horse show ribbons everywhere—on the lamps, on the walls, on the edges of picture frames. I settled down onto a saggy couch festooned with a racehorse tapestry throw, and leaned over to examine a small trophy gathering dust on the end-table: Virginia Hunter-Jumper Association 1982 Championships.

“You’re from Virginia?” I asked, while Grace stepped into the little kitchen and made some glasses clatter together.

“I was just there showing,” she said, bringing me a glass of iced tea. “I was born in Florida. This was my grandfather’s farm.” She glanced around the bungalow. “This was his house.”

“You come from a horsey family?” That shouldn’t be any surprise. Most successful trainers did. It was much easier to become an accomplished equestrian when all the basics—ponies, saddles, trailers, show fees—were provided for you.

“No,” Grace sighed. “Only my grandfather. My parents couldn’t understand it. But he’d always had horses. There was an orange grove, too—that’s houses now. And a hundred acres of cattle pasture—that’s a golf course.” She looked sad at the thought.

I adjusted myself on the broken-springs of the couch, feeling uncomfortable. Something else to talk about—I looked around the room desperately. “The house is so nice. I like the… I like that picture there, by the TV.” I pointed at the large framed photo: a black-and-white scene of horse and foal, girl and grandfather. It was obviously Grace and her grandfather.

“My grandpa and his favorite mare.” Grace smiled at the memory. “Sassy Susan. He let me ride her when we went to check the cattle.”

“That sounds nice,” I said lamely, and turned my attention to drinking my iced tea for a few minutes.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.