DARK HORSE (EBOOK)

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DARK HORSE
Chapter 1

The horse show was finally over. Spencer yawned for what felt like the millionth time. Her feet hurt, her legs and arms ached, and her brain felt fuzzy with fatigue. She couldn’t wait to get home to her bed and get a full night’s rest, but first she had to help Burr unload the horses and tack.

He backed the long trailer up to the Big Barn’s rear entrance and they stumbled out of the cab. The spring night was cool and crisp and clear.

Spencer stopped a moment to find the Big Dipper in the night sky and breath in the familiar smells of the barn. Over two hundred years old, it stood strong and tall, three stories of oak post and beam that had hardened like iron and weathered to a soft, silver gray. The barn was as familiar to her as her own bedroom and equally loved.

“I’ll get the horses if you’ll start with the tack and feed,” Burr called from the rear of the trailer.

“Deal,” Spencer said. She switched directions, opened the tack room at the front of the trailer, and grabbed the first saddle off the hanging racks.

The five day show, the first of the season, had been grueling. Between them Burr and Spencer had put in over one hundred and forty work hours as they cleaned stalls, hauled water and feed to their charges, groomed and tacked, and helped out in general wherever an extra hand was needed.

The Rocking Bear Ranch had done itself proud: Iris Peterson’s students had brought home well over half of the top ribbons and trophies.

“Burr, where does this go?” Spencer asked, stifling another yawn as she carried a fancy western saddle into the barn. The saddle leather was heavily tooled and was inlaid with intricate silver work.

She admired the saddle maker’s craftsmanship as she tried to get a better grip on it, but her tired muscles were refusing to cooperate. She staggered a few steps under the saddle’s weight and almost dropped her burden.

“Mmmm,” said Burr, “I think that belongs to a student who never showed for her class. Put it on that rack next to you and I’ll take care of it later. Why don’t you head home, Spencer? We’re almost finished here and I can easily handle the rest. You look beat.”

Spencer glared at Burr. She had very few friends and Burr was her most treasured, not only because he had once saved her life, but because he valued the same things she did. After spending her first year of college with a roommate who believed that clothes and hairstyles and who dated who was what mattered, it was nice to be with someone again who looked beyond all that surface stuff.

“I would love to go crawl into my bed, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to finish up alone. Besides, that would be admitting that I can’t keep up with you, and we both know that’s not going to happen. Thanks anyway.” She smirked as she carefully placed the heavy saddle on the rack.

Despite her bragging words, Spencer knew she should accept Burr’s offer and head home. This show had been her first big show, both as a worker and as competitor. It had also been the first show held at the Big River Equestrian Center after the original owner’s untimely death last year. That death had shocked their small community and put Spencer in the limelight as she had been with David Billmore when he died.

At her employer’s urging Spencer had entered her Gypsy Vanner mare in a special all-breed halter class and was thrilled to win second place, even though she suspected that Belle would have taken first if the judges had been more familiar with her breed.

“Don’t expect too much,” Iris had warned her. “It’s the first time you or Belle will be in a show ring, so just enjoy the experience and know that you’ll do better next time. Above all, have fun. That’s the main reason to participate—for the fun.”

Despite an attack of the nerves, it had been fun. In Spencer’s opinion Belle was far and away the most eye-catching horse in the ring, but the judges had chosen a young Percheron named Harry to take the blue ribbon.

Still, Spencer wore a broad smile when she proudly accepted the red ribbon as she knew she and Belle had done well for first-timers.

She put away the last saddle and walked back into the trailer to scoop out the leftover hay from the mangers. She filled her arms and heard a scuffling sound from underneath the hay box. Spencer gasped and dropped the hay and ran out of the trailer.

“What is it?” asked Burr. He hung the newly filled water bucket and latched closed the stall door. “Is something wrong?”

“I - I think something’s in there. I heard it moving when I grabbed the hay. What if it’s a rat?” Spencer shuddered. “I hate rats. Maybe it’s another rattlesnake. Remember the two we found in the stall last summer? Listen.”

They stood just inside the trailer and listened but heard nothing. Then the soft scuffle sounded again.
“There! Did you hear that?” asked Spencer, grabbing Burr’s arm.

“Huh, we must have picked up a rat at the show barn,” said Burr. “I’ll be right back.” He left the trailer and quickly returned with a pitchfork. “Lift up the manger cover when I nod,” he whispered.

They tiptoed the length of the trailer and stopped a foot short of the manger. Burr hefted the pitchfork into a strike position and then nodded at Spencer. She grabbed the manger platform and lifted it up as he moved to strike.

“Wait! Burr look! It’s a little boy!” Burr lowered the fork and they stared in disbelief at the dirty child curled up in one corner of the storage space.