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He had been grooming one of the yearlings. Just waiting around had starting to drive him nuts. He knew Jeremy was busy and he had said he could wait…but he had little to no patience with anything that wasn’t a horse. He had gotten a short glimpse of the owner and he had looked so stressed so he had more in common with old camelshit than anything else. Something big must have happened or he just had simply forgotten. Perhaps he needed to go see him again…to check at least. The young horse unexpectedly shied away from him at a sudden commotion outside. It snorted like there had been a big scary dragon. His soft words calmed it down rather quickly. The young horse pressed its nose on his shoulder for more comfort and reassuring scratches behind its ear. It exhaled deeply, assured that the man wouldn’t let anything scary happen. The fact that someone had disturbed the calmness annoyed the short man, especially as he recognized the voice of the one that had caused the horse to spook.

How it was possible for Clarice to be normal with the brothers she had, with the family she came from was a riddle to him. Tall and built like a cross between a roman god and the stereotype of a Canadian lumberjack, Edward Shipley was a man of power in many areas of society. His family had lived on their land for a long time and the family acted like they owned the land around them and the people as well. With a familyline that most often seemed to produce boys, Clarice had been unique ever since her birth. She had been treated like the princess and guarded like a treasure of the family.

He had been hired by the Shipley family to “take care” of a “problem horse”. There was – rarely – such a thing as a “problem horse”. More often than not it was people with a horse problem and the main problem being them selves. They wanted the horse to do something it just wasn’t ready for and it had let them know the only way it could. Also, most seemed to think any problem was a quick fix that could be done in the blink of an eye.

It had been an expensive horse all the way from Europe, with papers so fine it was like it would have been written in gold or something. It was a pretty little thing, very delicate and sensitive yet strong, smart and hardheaded at the same time. Fittingly the horse was named Ebony and the coat was so dark bay most thought it was black. The nerves seemed to be on the outside and after watching it for five minutes Willy had known that this wasn’t a horse you could make do anything without asking first. It wasn’t a horse that would give in by force if you tried to make it do something it wasn’t ready for; instead it would only fight you harder.

The brothers had failed in their so called horsetraining and had most likely just added more troubles to the list. Willy remembered that it had taken just a week just to get the horse to allow him to get close, to be able to remove and put on the halter. One week later he had been on its back. Since it had been summer then he had worked shirtless. That was the first time he had seen her, standing at the fence just watching him and the horse.

There was no doubt that she was beautiful but then Carter had showed up together with another woman. Willy had been to busy with the horse at that point to look at her closer. The horse had reacted to the presence of Carter, knowing him as something that caused pain, so it had danced around; snorting and its ears flattened and had almost tossed him off. The oldest of the Shipley boys had laughed at him but then his laughing had suddenly stopped. When Willy had looked up he saw that the woman Carter had come with had said something. Willy had watched as Carters face had become dark at her words. Then the eldest of the Shipley boys had grabbed the woman by her arm as they moved off. He had almost dragged her off. They had argued with high voices that much had been clear but with the horse still standing more on two legs than on four Willy had turned his attention away from the couple. Finally the horse had calmed down; almost as magic as soon Carter had been out of sigh as well as sound range. Willy had looked up at that point and had seen that Clarice still was there, watching with a soft smile on her lips.

After that day she came every day to help him with the horse and after awhile the horse tolerated her too. Not in the same way as him, but close enough. She told him that the horse was really hers and it had been a gift from her brothers. They had gone on a few rides together, with Willy on another horse, to make sure that Ebony was safe for Clarice to ride out with. It wasn’t until it was too late Willy realized that the girl had fallen in love with him. If it hadn’t been her, if she hadn’t been so eager to…do something that he wasn’t really interested in doing…then maybe he had allowed himself to like her. But as things were – that was impossible. Besides it didn’t take long for the brothers to notice what was going on and it didn’t help that he did his best to stay clear of her advances. Once the Shipley brothers had gotten something on their mind, or thought that you did something that would hurt them, even the slightest…you couldn’t stop them.

How many times during the years hadn’t Carter picked on him…both verbally and physically? Most of the time he had been able to keep it cool, fend it off, the degree of injuries had altered from a few to many. Willy wasn’t afraid of getting beat up. Perhaps a little fear would have saved him from getting into trouble. His brother Ben had been more composed than he was. His left hand traced a scar at the back of his neck. They had jumped on him in the dark, like the cowards they always had been, as he had exited the barns. Owen, even if he was smart or perhaps that was why, had followed his brother’s lead. If it hadn’t been for Stevi it might had been worse. Carter had gotten a black eye but not more than that. Willy wasn’t sure if Owen had gotten any injury. When Stevi had come around the corner with Clarice, he had already been quite beat up, lying on the ground doing his best to protect himself, his face a bloody mess. Clarice scream had interrupted her brother’s mid-kick but it was Stevi that had acted on it all and stepped in between them, ordering them to stop. Owen had come with some lame excuse that they had thought Willy had been a thief. They had even claimed it had been him that started the whole thing.

Willy wasn’t sure if Stevi knew that it was him, if she had recognised him as he passed her. It was a long time ago and then she probably had other things to think of than a former stablehand that her ex-husband never paid for the work he had done.

He had made no move towards the paddock, had not done more than to close the gate, had made no move to help the man cornered by the stallion. Willy had heard about La Muerte Lo Sigue, watched the stallion closely but not more than that… Sometimes you could learn much by just watching, both when it came to animals and man, but you couldn’t learn everything. He hadn’t talked to Jeremy’s aunt about if there was a chance to see the stallion at a closer distance, to see her interact with the stallion. His eyes wandered over the oddly marked horse in the paddock as well on the man hiding behind the tree and he let his thoughts drift like a feather on the wind.

He didn’t really care about the reputation the stallion had. He had worked on similar tempered animals a few times before. Most didn’t last long before they met their final fate. This didn’t mean however that he knew EVERY half-crazy animal. Far from it and all animals, crazy or not was needed to be treated with mutual respect. The older woman had a way with stallions and Willy wouldn’t mind to learn some tricks or at least learn something new from Lydia Weatherride. He had been shy around her when he was younger, the few times he had met her back then, but that had been before the accident that had claimed his siblings. After that he had been forced to grow up quickly. He still weren’t what you would call the talkative type since he kept his mouth shut and didn’t speak unless he needed too. It was really only the horses he spoke and even sang to. Some of the most troubled souls needed the comfort of a nice word that saw beyond that first wall of defence.

Even she had calmed down when he... suddenly a movement near the gate of the paddock drew his attention...

...To be continued here....

No ref for horse this time - hence the cartoony look

Description
Previous

He had been grooming one of the yearlings. Just waiting around had starting to drive him nuts. He knew Jeremy was busy and he had said he could wait…but he had little to no patience with anything that wasn’t a horse. He had gotten a short glimpse of the owner and he had looked so stressed so he had more in common with old camelshit than anything else. Something big must have happened or he just had simply forgotten. Perhaps he needed to go see him again…to check at least. The young horse unexpectedly shied away from him at a sudden commotion outside. It snorted like there had been a big scary dragon. His soft words calmed it down rather quickly. The young horse pressed its nose on his shoulder for more comfort and reassuring scratches behind its ear. It exhaled deeply, assured that the man wouldn’t let anything scary happen. The fact that someone had disturbed the calmness annoyed the short man, especially as he recognized the voice of the one that had caused the horse to spook.

How it was possible for Clarice to be normal with the brothers she had, with the family she came from was a riddle to him. Tall and built like a cross between a roman god and the stereotype of a Canadian lumberjack, Edward Shipley was a man of power in many areas of society. His family had lived on their land for a long time and the family acted like they owned the land around them and the people as well. With a familyline that most often seemed to produce boys, Clarice had been unique ever since her birth. She had been treated like the princess and guarded like a treasure of the family.

He had been hired by the Shipley family to “take care” of a “problem horse”. There was – rarely – such a thing as a “problem horse”. More often than not it was people with a horse problem and the main problem being them selves. They wanted the horse to do something it just wasn’t ready for and it had let them know the only way it could. Also, most seemed to think any problem was a quick fix that could be done in the blink of an eye.

It had been an expensive horse all the way from Europe, with papers so fine it was like it would have been written in gold or something. It was a pretty little thing, very delicate and sensitive yet strong, smart and hardheaded at the same time. Fittingly the horse was named Ebony and the coat was so dark bay most thought it was black. The nerves seemed to be on the outside and after watching it for five minutes Willy had known that this wasn’t a horse you could make do anything without asking first. It wasn’t a horse that would give in by force if you tried to make it do something it wasn’t ready for; instead it would only fight you harder.

The brothers had failed in their so called horsetraining and had most likely just added more troubles to the list. Willy remembered that it had taken just a week just to get the horse to allow him to get close, to be able to remove and put on the halter. One week later he had been on its back. Since it had been summer then he had worked shirtless. That was the first time he had seen her, standing at the fence just watching him and the horse.

There was no doubt that she was beautiful but then Carter had showed up together with another woman. Willy had been to busy with the horse at that point to look at her closer. The horse had reacted to the presence of Carter, knowing him as something that caused pain, so it had danced around; snorting and its ears flattened and had almost tossed him off. The oldest of the Shipley boys had laughed at him but then his laughing had suddenly stopped. When Willy had looked up he saw that the woman Carter had come with had said something. Willy had watched as Carters face had become dark at her words. Then the eldest of the Shipley boys had grabbed the woman by her arm as they moved off. He had almost dragged her off. They had argued with high voices that much had been clear but with the horse still standing more on two legs than on four Willy had turned his attention away from the couple. Finally the horse had calmed down; almost as magic as soon Carter had been out of sigh as well as sound range. Willy had looked up at that point and had seen that Clarice still was there, watching with a soft smile on her lips.

After that day she came every day to help him with the horse and after awhile the horse tolerated her too. Not in the same way as him, but close enough. She told him that the horse was really hers and it had been a gift from her brothers. They had gone on a few rides together, with Willy on another horse, to make sure that Ebony was safe for Clarice to ride out with. It wasn’t until it was too late Willy realized that the girl had fallen in love with him. If it hadn’t been her, if she hadn’t been so eager to…do something that he wasn’t really interested in doing…then maybe he had allowed himself to like her. But as things were – that was impossible. Besides it didn’t take long for the brothers to notice what was going on and it didn’t help that he did his best to stay clear of her advances. Once the Shipley brothers had gotten something on their mind, or thought that you did something that would hurt them, even the slightest…you couldn’t stop them.

How many times during the years hadn’t Carter picked on him…both verbally and physically? Most of the time he had been able to keep it cool, fend it off, the degree of injuries had altered from a few to many. Willy wasn’t afraid of getting beat up. Perhaps a little fear would have saved him from getting into trouble. His brother Ben had been more composed than he was. His left hand traced a scar at the back of his neck. They had jumped on him in the dark, like the cowards they always had been, as he had exited the barns. Owen, even if he was smart or perhaps that was why, had followed his brother’s lead. If it hadn’t been for Stevi it might had been worse. Carter had gotten a black eye but not more than that. Willy wasn’t sure if Owen had gotten any injury. When Stevi had come around the corner with Clarice, he had already been quite beat up, lying on the ground doing his best to protect himself, his face a bloody mess. Clarice scream had interrupted her brother’s mid-kick but it was Stevi that had acted on it all and stepped in between them, ordering them to stop. Owen had come with some lame excuse that they had thought Willy had been a thief. They had even claimed it had been him that started the whole thing.

Willy wasn’t sure if Stevi knew that it was him, if she had recognised him as he passed her. It was a long time ago and then she probably had other things to think of than a former stablehand that her ex-husband never paid for the work he had done.

He had made no move towards the paddock, had not done more than to close the gate, had made no move to help the man cornered by the stallion. Willy had heard about La Muerte Lo Sigue, watched the stallion closely but not more than that… Sometimes you could learn much by just watching, both when it came to animals and man, but you couldn’t learn everything. He hadn’t talked to Jeremy’s aunt about if there was a chance to see the stallion at a closer distance, to see her interact with the stallion. His eyes wandered over the oddly marked horse in the paddock as well on the man hiding behind the tree and he let his thoughts drift like a feather on the wind.

He didn’t really care about the reputation the stallion had. He had worked on similar tempered animals a few times before. Most didn’t last long before they met their final fate. This didn’t mean however that he knew EVERY half-crazy animal. Far from it and all animals, crazy or not was needed to be treated with mutual respect. The older woman had a way with stallions and Willy wouldn’t mind to learn some tricks or at least learn something new from Lydia Weatherride. He had been shy around her when he was younger, the few times he had met her back then, but that had been before the accident that had claimed his siblings. After that he had been forced to grow up quickly. He still weren’t what you would call the talkative type since he kept his mouth shut and didn’t speak unless he needed too. It was really only the horses he spoke and even sang to. Some of the most troubled souls needed the comfort of a nice word that saw beyond that first wall of defence.

Even she had calmed down when he... suddenly a movement near the gate of the paddock drew his attention...

...To be continued here....

No ref for horse this time - hence the cartoony look