White Horse in Winter by Franci McMahon

Author:Franci McMahon [McMahon, Franci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626394872
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2015-07-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Victoria, Jane, and I were at the barn after the big event. Jane disappeared up the stairs to the loft and dropped hay down into Night’s feeder. Vic fussed over the mare. We were a team, a flock of friends, rubbing Night down, fluffing the sawdust in her stall and cleaning tack. All of my favorite smells in one place. Well, maybe not all.

Victoria cooed over her horse. “You are the most beautiful horse in the world. And the most talented.”

Jane winked at me. “Did you ever think anyone would say that about this mare?”

Oh, how she could stir me up with just a wink. Hard to believe. I smiled to watch the two longtime friends. I sat on a hay bale in the aisle, cleaning Victoria’s saddle and bridle, and we were laughing and girling it up. Jane was with me now. All the way. I mentally took the rental car back and threw away the map of Maine.

Victoria had put the kettle on to heat up in the tack room earlier, and now we heard the whistle. Victoria fetched the boiling water to make a bran mash for Night. She came back toward us saying, “How dumb was that woman to get rude to a news reporter? So, tell me again about the scene with Georgia and the horse trailer. And don’t leave anything out.” Vic did a very good Lily Tomlin snort while stirring the hot water into the bran, molasses, and cut-up carrots.

“I can’t believe the way she acted,” Jane said.

I could, but I didn’t have to rub it in. “Georgia doesn’t know how close she came to becoming the Jolly Green Giant.”

“Amazing.” Vic shook her head while she placed a gunnysack over the mash to let it steam. “I never imagined women behaving that way.”

“Guess anyone can be a butthead,” I observed. “Georgia seemed to think no one could resist her charms. You know, Naomi told me about the pass Georgia made at her. Pretty crude there, too. Naomi thinks Megan was mad as hell at Georgia.”

“Yes, I was surprised at the total lack of finesse. And so pleased my knight rode up at the right time.” Jane smiled at me.

“So, where do you go from here, Vic?” I put the tack over an empty stall door and sat on a hay bale put there for the outside horses. I stretched my legs out ahead of me and crossed them, balancing on one heel of my city boot. “The Rolex? Or will it be Olde England for you?”

“What I really wish I could do is go back to 4-H or Pony Club. More my speed. They won’t let me in, though. I think the cutoff age is eighteen.”

“Look what you’ve done in three months. I’m impressed,” said Jane.

“I did well today, didn’t I? The one exception was that little mental breakdown in the dressage ring,” Vic said, laughing at the memory. She punctuated her statement by shooting the bolt home on Night’s stall door. “Maybe I don’t take it seriously enough.

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