Bea and the New Deal Horse by L. M. Elliott

Author:L. M. Elliott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-01-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

I still had to spend the morning on Caspian. Not that he wasn’t a lovely ride. And I knew that’s the way of it with horses—a rider must walk before she runs, so to speak.

“The faster you improve, the sooner we can put you on the chestnut,” Mrs. Scott had said. “And we’re on a bit of a fast track here, young lady. A month until the show. It is insanity. But,” she shrugged, “are you willing to be pushed?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right, then.” To begin, she instructed me to stand in the stirrups for a few moments, the iron bar under the ball of my feet, pushing my heels down as far as I could, until my calves stretched out, long and taut. “Now, lower your backside into the saddle slowly, not moving your legs. That will show you what heels down should feel like as you ride.”

The tendons in the back of my calves burned.

Of course, that was nothing compared to the twenty minutes of riding without stirrups to teach me the feel of a seat with a grip. My thigh muscles were on fire as I kept my legs bent, my calves in the hollow behind Caspian’s shoulder blades, my heels clasping his belly.

“Relax your knees and ankles,” Mrs. Scott shouted as we cantered around the ring. “You should feel bowlegged.”

Finally, she let me come down to a walk and dangle my legs to ease the cramping. “Good. We’ll do that every day for the next two weeks until I see no air between your bottom and the saddle.”

Oh joy, I thought with an inward groan.

But joy did come—at the end of that session, Caspian and I took that bitty jump perfectly. Then another, slightly higher, then two, one after another.

“Well done,” said Mrs. Scott. “Come see me after you muck.” She turned and walked up the hill, searching the vivid-blue, cloudless sky as she went.

When I hobbled to the house for lunch—muttering, “I love riding, I love horses,” against my legs’ screaming soreness—Dr. Liburn was there. He’d checked on Ralph and come to report to Mrs. Scott that the stubborn stable hand would only heal if he stayed still. The doctor had found Ralph out in his tomato patch, trying to weed with his good hand, cursing.

She’d left in a huff to fuss at Ralph.

“God help him,” Dr. Liburn had said with a laugh, watching her go.

“He better hope she doesn’t tie him to a chair to keep him still,” Malachi joked. “Would you like a cup of coffee before you continue your rounds, Doc?”

“I would,” he answered, settling into a chair. “I have things to talk with you about as well.”

“I’ll get it!” Viv hopped up and went to the stove, where a steel coffee pot sat on the stove. I rushed forward to strike the match to light the flame for her, so she didn’t burn herself, but she waved me off. “I know how! Let me do it, Bea.”

“She’s getting handy around here,” said Malachi.

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