A Mysterious Ride

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Arin:
i loped blackthorne gently to the mouth of the cross country course. the cool morning breeze lifted my fire colored ponytail off my back, and i sighed in contentment.
then, i heard hoofbeats... coming fast, from the east. definately not sid or mary anne.... and katie was doing paperwork. yuliya wasn't here yet... so i surmised it must be a berryhill rider, come to borrow our course.
"not on my watch, you don't!" i whispered, and began to cut an angle through the foliage to intercept the mystery intruder.



Owen:
i had decided to borrow sterling's course. i'd bet no one else was on it, and, besides, the woods were too tough a track for a trained steeplechase horse. not enough room to gallop full out.
but, upon entering the course from the side, i heard heavy hoofbeats tapping a staccato beside me. a veil of branches separated us... i could only see an outline of powerful horse and slender rider beyond the leaves.
"Wanna race?" i yelled on impulse.

Arin:
the mysterious visitor came into a hazy view. he rode a tall horse, and had a natural look to his riding. then, of all impertinent things, he aske dmy to race!
"Sure, but if i win, you get off the property!" i shouted back, equally sly.

Owen:
"you're on!"

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Arin:
with a swift kick of my heels, Blackthorne and i were off like a shot. his impossibly long mane stung my face, and tears came to my eyes from the speed, as we approached the first jump.
all the jumps on the Stelring course were long, divided in half by the screen of trees, so that multiple competitors could ride at once. the first jump was known as "Blackbeard," a hedge of wiry, thorny brambles and bracken oner a little ravine. in other words, it looked murderous, but was really a snap, as long as one held one's confidence.
having experienced blackbeard before, my horse and i cleared it without fault. now, for the next one... "Valentine's," a big slope with mud and rocks on it.

Owen:
the girl on the other side of the trees and her horse made it over the first jump, an unseemly pile of brush, without trouble. as a matter of fact, they soared. Ballerina, of course, took it in stride. the next one, i could tell, had a big hill on the other side... "we'll clear the whole thing." i whispered to my horse, letting my reins slack.

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Arin:
I leaned into the jump as Blackthorne leapt towards the steep slope. i was sure he could clear it in a single jump...
suddenly, a covey of sage grouse, also called "idiot hens," erupted from a hedge planted at the side of the jump. in midair, Blackthorne Shilleaughs, premeir Friesan sporthorse, swerved in what i'm sure resembled a cabriole. for a moment, we were suspended in the thin air of jumping altitude, and i let loose a scream.
Why? frankly, because upon alighting at the bottom of the hill, no such thing happened. instead, we plunged into the muddy, rock-strewn slope on the leeward side of Valentine's. i instinctively let go of the reins and bailed; Blackthorne let out a whinny of terror that rent my heartstrings. i rolled to a stop, muddy and bruised, but not badly hurt. but, what about my horse! i ran up the slope towards the ebony mass of horseflesh...

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Owen:
throught the trees, i noticed somthing wrong... my opponent wasn't following me anymore! pulling Ballerina to a stop, i tried to peer through the stand of trees...
suddenly, a piercing equine scream rent the air. Her horse was hurt! i spurred my horse through the copse, and came out at the bottom of the jump. the rider, covered in mud and foliage, was hurrying as fast as one could considering the circumstances, towards her horse. dismounting and tying Ballerina to a tree, i ran up after her.

Arin:
by the time my opponent reached me, i was already kneeling at Blackthorne's side. he was breathing hard- the horse, not the amazing-looking guy, of course. tears stung my eyes, but i blinked them back. "he fell... some of those idiot hens startled him." i said gravely, the huge lump in my throat making my voice rise a few octaves.

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Owen:
i immediately fell in next to the girl at her friesan's head. "we need to get him back to sterling... i don't think a vet could make it out here." i said gravely, stroking the stallion's head to calm him.

Arin:
"I'm not sure if he can get up." i swallowed the lump in my throat. "but atleast we can try." stripping off Blackthorne's saddle and removing his reins, i clipped the leadrope i had tied to the cheyenne roll strings to his silver halter. "on the count of three, you lift his head up, and i'll try to lead... one..."

Owen:
i slipped my hands under the ebony head of the horse, wondering what would happen. my forehead broke with sweat... would this Blackthorne have to be put down?

Arin:
"...two...." i gave my horse a kiss on the forehead, and positioned myself at his side.

Owen:
"....three!"

the massive, elegant horse pushed off the ground with a lurch, stumbling on his injured foot. the two people at his head steadied him, quieting his rapid breathing.

Arin:
"he can stand!" i cried happily, laughing through my tears. i moved my hand towards Blackthorne's nose to congratulate him....

Owen:
"Thank heavens!" i put my palm up to the friesan's nose to express my thanks....

the two hands met for a split second. two pairs of eyes- no, scratch that, three, since balcthorne was watching- locked upon each other.

Arin:
embarassed, i drew my hand away as if it had been burned. "thank you so much. i think i can lead him through the shortcut, but it will be a pretty long walk." i blushed right up to the roots of my red hair.

Owen:
"oh, no need! i bet he'd feel better if we ponied him behind Ballerina. herd instinct, and all that." i sawed my teeth on my lower lip, a habit that develops when i'm nervous.

Arin:
"ummm, well then... i'll help you tie him, and then start heading back...."

Owen:
"no need. we can ride double. Ballerina can handle it."

all quiet on the western front. too quiet. an awkward silence followed.

Arin:
"o-kay then."
i quickly led Blackthorne, who limped but was still capable of movement, over to the lean thoroughbred who gave the larger horse a sympathetic look. "your horse is beautiful," i commented. then, i fastened the lead to the cinch on the english saddle.

Owen:
i wordlessly sprang into the saddle, then let down my hand for the redheaded girl to grab onto.

Arin vaulted into the saddle with little difficulty. now that her horse was okay, she could feel perfectly self concious about hanging on around the waist of one of the best looking guys she had ever met. when she had to tighten her grip to stay seated as Ballerina clattered for footing on the slope, her blush increased in intensity.

but, then again, it was kind of romantic...

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Owen:
we didn't have to ride far. luckily, Blackthorne much improved... despite the mud, he carried himself well with only a slight trace of a limp. "i think he'll be fine, but let's bring him to sterling for sure!"

Arin:
"of coure! but we have to finish our race sometime."

Owen:
both of us laughed, half in releif and half in good spirits. the sun broke from behind a cloud, and, as we stopped in a meadow to admire the view, blackthorne and ballerina toughed noses. how sweet!

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Owen:
"well, we'd better get back to Stelring before those clouds break." the sun was beginning to creep behind a layer of cirrus clouds. "do you think we should let your horse off his lead? i bet he would go faster, but still keep up with us."
Arin:
"Great idea!" i slid off of the tall throughbred, my legs like jelly as i hit the ground, and stumbled...
Owen:
i grabbed the redheaded girl's forearm to keep her from toppling over. "not used to riding without a saddle?" i laughed. but it was sort of... embarassing, but nice. i unclipped the friesan's lead, to distract myself. i'm no lady's man, but my supposed similarity to James Franco has earned me more than a few secret admirers. i quickly let go of her arm, and rapidly changed the subject. "i can't beleive it, but i think we still don't know each other's names. Owen Lahey." i reached down to shake her hand, but realized that i was already down at Ballerina's side. oops.
Arin:
he caught me! he caught me! it was like somthing in a romance movie! "Nice to meet you, Owen. A-arin Doherty." i said, shakily returning his gesture. i tried not to have a dead fish handshake,a s that is a sign of weakness. however, i believe i accomplished a cold fish, clammy fish, or crazily shivering fish hanshake. very smooth, arin. very smooth.

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Owen:
did i hold her hand too long?
i let go of it quickly. "i think your horse has decided to leave us behind." i said, motioning to a black shape in the distance, trotting belligerantly in the direction of Sterling.

Arin:
"he has! we'd better catch up, before Katie think that i got mashed." i laughed, this time acceptin Owens hand readily as i sprang up behind him.

Owen:
"hold on tight!" as Arin's grip tightened, i spurred Ballerina into a run, and we pelted across the course, headed downhill, towards Sterling. her laugh reached me from behind...