HOME | DD

Description
Previous:
Of Lawyers and Legalities OF LAWYERS AND LEGALITIES

Stevi had just gotten back from the local clinic. Harry was carrying in a couple of bags from the car and into the kitchen. Stuff that Martha had requested since Stevi had been going into town. Though Stevi had just gotten the cast off, the doctor had recommended using the crutches for a couple of more days – just until she felt comfortable walking on her own. So, Harry had volunteered himself to carry the bags, so that Stevi wouldn't have to struggle with the balancing act.

"Thank you Harry," Stevi smiled as he hurried back out for the last couple of bags and she shut the car door once he had them out, "Y

Someone once said that what doesn't kill you only make you stronger. The bay gelding that was standing just a few stalls from the spotted mare hadn’t been in this barn more than a week since his owner moved him here but he acted like he had lived here all of his life. He was used to being in new stalls and settled easily. To describe the horse with one word the word “average” would come to mind. Mike didn’t look like much to the world. He was a bit on the short side for a thoroughbred, just about 15.2 hands high and had a bay coat with no special markings other than a white stripe on his head and a white sock on his left hind foot. He lacked chrome that would have made his coat sparkle. There was nothing about him that could make him stand out in a crowd. Except perhaps the white markings on his left side shoulder that clearly weren’t natural; those could perhaps be seen as “special” for an otherwise very ordinary looking horse.

The horse had always been looked upon as someone that was worth less due to his small stature and somewhat scrappy appearance. He was often passed unnoticed because of it and people missed his kind personality. The gelding did what he was told to do and never really put up a fight, not even in the more scary situations. Despite that, his tries stayed unnoticed. His first trainer, a man named Irwin Miller, had seen some potential in him as the horse came from England as a budding two year old, but he didn’t see him as the really big star. With a more successful and a more “showy” horse in the barn, one that stood out when it came to both color and temper, Mike’s slight potential were easily forgotten. As the time passed Mike was downgraded to an exhausting schedule of smaller races. Despite of this he stayed all sound throughout his career without even a tender leg or a lost shoe. The star horse however seemed to be prone to kick himself every now and then.

Mike failed to win his first ten races and more often than not he finished back in the field. After that, training him was almost made by afterthought by Miller and Mike was sometimes the source of some rather cruel stable jokes. As a two year old he had a racing schedule with a total of twenty-seven starts but he only managed to win three of these and he came in second five times. Six of these races had been claiming races where Mike could have been bought for a shy sum of money - but nobody wanted him. At the end of the racing season he was occasionally used as an outrider horse or as a rabbit for other, much better horses.

While he had not lived up to his true racing potential, he wasn’t that poor of a performer that Miller thought him to be. But Mike wasn’t alone. Many racehorses never break their maidens and they often fail to win even a single race. The next season, as a three year old, Mike was again less than impressive. He was now seen as a dud and nobody really cared about him. There wouldn’t be a shriek of sadness across the country and nobody would miss him if he would have dropped dead in his next race. There would be no flocking of fans at the farm gates or him receiving truckloads of get well cards. No, he was the classic everyday backyard horse. Easily seen and just as easily forgotten.

Overall he was a decent race horse, not great but decent. The passion and fire in his heart, his will to please were strong despite everything and with the right support he might have become someone. However, in the big racing industry where fortune and fame meant everything an ordinary bay gelding with a bit of bad luck would soon have earned him self that last ticket to the auction house if it hadn’t been for one man. Someone that in a way saw him self linked to the horse and someone that saw that Mike was something more than just an everyday claimer. Then a cruel twist of fate would tie them even tighter to each other.

~ ~ ~ ~

He didn’t see the other horse and rider over his shoulder until too late. To this day he is still not sure what happened but the last things he remembered from the accident was that quick flash of fear you feel when you loose the control of what you are doing, the slow motion feeling where everything, even the sound almost came to a complete halt. There was also the sound from the horses, the image of flailing legs, the other rider flying through the air and then – his own hard impact with the rail and the dirt. Apparently there was some sort of newbie testing Willy had missed hearing about. The prank itself was, when it came down to it, rather innocent. However Willy had taken a lot of painkillers just some hours before and shouldn’t perhaps have ridden at all that day but that ride was his one shot with the trainer and he weren’t going to miss it. The pills made his reaction time slow and the injuries from the assault themselves didn’t help.

Thankfully he didn’t get more hurt than he already was nor did the other rider and horse get any injury but poor Mike - he bravely tried to get his rider out of harms way as good as he could but got some pretty deep gashes from the broken rail on his shoulder in the process.

Neither the owner nor trainer saw any point of keeping a horse just for the fun of it, paying for vet and board hoping it wouldn’t affect the horses running skill. With a “no name horse” Mike’s destiny seemed to have been sealed when he had been just three years old.

With the last of the money from his father Willy bought the horse. He wasn’t really sure why he did it at the time but it was something with the horse that reminded him about his brother. About the same time he made the discovery about his condition and he let his spot as jockey pass. For a time he worked as an outrider while he let Mike recover, most of the paycheck went to the horse’s vet bill. To save money he also gave up his apartment and slept on mattress in Mike’s stall. After the bay gelding had healed up he took some stray jobs with Mike at his side. The former racehorse learned to be ridden in both western and english style and were a good help for his rider when it came to calm horses that was on their toes.

~ ~ ~ ~

Willy inhaled her scent deeply as the woman embraced him. He just couldn’t help it as he felt her warmth, everything that was her. Clarice Shipley had always smelled like…well heaven….or like a mixture of heaven and all the tropical flowers of the world if that was possible to combine the two. He wasn’t sure what sort of perfume she was wearing but it sure wasn’t anything like that female singers own brand that some of the younger female grooms had on. Her womanly body was pressed tightly against his own in a firm hug. Everything about her spoke of coming from a better place in society and she had moved as such too, most likely without knowing it.

After a little while he carefully tried to detangle himself from the woman’s hold but her grip tightened like she thought he would disappear if she let go. It wasn’t because he didn’t like it, because he did…oh god…he did. There wasn’t something nicer than having a woman’s arms around you but…this particularly woman…it was not wise to be too friendly with her. He had learned that the hard way. At that time, he had just done his job, what they had paid him to do…or rather…said they were going to pay him…and he had done his best to be professional about it.

But the daughter of Edward Shipley she hadn’t been so discrete over her budding feelings for him. It wasn’t hard for her brothers to add two and two together. Yet he hadn’t done a thing as to compromise her honor. It had almost been the other way around. She had wanted him to kiss her, to hold her, to…go further, invited him to do so but as hard as it had been he had rejected her - for her sake.

He had told her that it wasn’t something she should rush into. That he wasn’t really the one she was looking for – even if it hurted to say the words. She was everything he wanted. Despite the hurt he told her that she should take her time and not settle with the likes of him. In a softer tone he had added that he couldn’t offer the things she was used to and it wasn’t right – to her – to make her believe things he couldn’t fulfill. There was no way of course for him to know if she was experienced with the…other subject in question…because he himself had no experience whatsoever. He still was waiting…for the one but he wasn’t really sure what he was waiting for. Ben had been the one that the girls liked and wanted to date, and heck…the boys admired him even if he took a girl right from under their noses. His brother had often been picked first in sports and the all girls wanted him to ask them to the dance… It was like all the good things had been offered to his slightly older brother only and he got left with…well the leftovers. If picked at all he was always last even if he wasn’t bad at sports. He was short that was all. Willy doubted Ben would have waited. If it had been Ben then Carter had probably liked him or at least not looked at him like a roach that needed to be squished.

Finally the young woman let her firm hold of him loosen slightly so he could take a step back. He corrected his shirt that showed off his upper body well without being tacky. Thanks all the farmwork he had been doing, both now and before, he was nicely toned in a “natural way”. His muscles were built up by actual work and not by some point focus on a special musclegroup at the gym.

“Good morning and Merry Christmas…Miss Shipley…Mrs. Shi…eh…Miss Stevi…”

His warm honey brown eyes looked at the two women, but he tried to look mostly at Stevi and he smiled as an excuse for calling her by her old name. He tried to keep his gaze locked at Cleo’s owner, making Clarice vanish in some sort of grainy blur on his left side. It felt safer to focus on Stevi since he might blush if he looked directly at Clarice. Especially with the thoughts that had passed still fresh in his mind and because he still could feel her scent, both on him and coming from her. Not that he was scared of her brothers, of what they could do if they knew, but he was rather safe than sorry.

Of course Carter would have a hard time being allowed back here. He didn’t have worry too much about the Shipley brothers doing anything to him while he was here. His thoughts flashed to his time at the Shipley homestead. As the brothers had discovered their sisters liking to him they had taken him aside. They had said they didn’t want his dirty kind around her, taking advantage of her, luring her into giving him all her money like that had been the case. They didn’t even want him to talk to her. They had spoken of what was in store for their sister, talking over her head like she was nobody, a piece of flesh. It even slipped out that their father had someone planned for her already and that she was destined to greater things.

Willy had stepped up for her at that point, his eyes glowing in anger, saying something in the lines that whoever she chose to speak to or be with was her choice and hers alone. Things had been well between him and Clarice then but Carter and Owen must have said something to her later because she didn’t talk for him for days afterwards. She didn’t come to watch him train her horse and if she had to answer his questions about Ebony she had one of the grooms nearby. It was like she – suddenly – had been afraid of him. That had made him a little sad.

A few days after they had taken him aside and he had spoken up for her, her brothers had attacked him without warning as he came out from the barn. He had been taken off guard and the first hit had been with something hard to the back of his head. That had left him partly stunned for a while, unable to do anything. With some well aimed hard kicks to his stomach and head they had kept him grounded and it was only when Carter almost tripped over him that he finally managed to fire off a punch of his own. It had been a weak blow that probably hadn’t hurted that much but he still had gotten a charge for it…for battery despite the fact his injuries was much worse. He hadn’t been that surprised though…the Shipley’s had a good lawyer and he didn’t.

Owen had after his blow towards Carter, kicked him in his back, making black spots appear in front of his eyes. Blood had been running down his face and from his nose when he suddenly had heard a high-pitched scream as well as another angry female voice. He didn’t see who had screamed, or who it was that made them back away from him because at that point he was almost unconscious.

--------Cyrano De Bergerac (7.2f) (Bold Lad (IRE)(7.7f) x Miss St Cyr)
---- Millkom (GB) -r (10.7f)
--------Good Game (Mummy's Game (8.6f) x Bright Brook)
-- Nice Try Mike (GB) Bay TB Gelding (7yo)
--------Komaite (USA) (7.1 f) (Nureyev (USA) (8.0f) x Brown Berry (GB))
---- Lunar Music (GB) -r
--------Lucky Candy (Lucky Wednesday (7.7 f) x Be My Sweet)

Continued here:

Horse ref: [link] by ~Blacke-Horse-Design

Description
Previous:
Of Lawyers and Legalities OF LAWYERS AND LEGALITIES

Stevi had just gotten back from the local clinic. Harry was carrying in a couple of bags from the car and into the kitchen. Stuff that Martha had requested since Stevi had been going into town. Though Stevi had just gotten the cast off, the doctor had recommended using the crutches for a couple of more days – just until she felt comfortable walking on her own. So, Harry had volunteered himself to carry the bags, so that Stevi wouldn't have to struggle with the balancing act.

"Thank you Harry," Stevi smiled as he hurried back out for the last couple of bags and she shut the car door once he had them out, "Y

Someone once said that what doesn't kill you only make you stronger. The bay gelding that was standing just a few stalls from the spotted mare hadn’t been in this barn more than a week since his owner moved him here but he acted like he had lived here all of his life. He was used to being in new stalls and settled easily. To describe the horse with one word the word “average” would come to mind. Mike didn’t look like much to the world. He was a bit on the short side for a thoroughbred, just about 15.2 hands high and had a bay coat with no special markings other than a white stripe on his head and a white sock on his left hind foot. He lacked chrome that would have made his coat sparkle. There was nothing about him that could make him stand out in a crowd. Except perhaps the white markings on his left side shoulder that clearly weren’t natural; those could perhaps be seen as “special” for an otherwise very ordinary looking horse.

The horse had always been looked upon as someone that was worth less due to his small stature and somewhat scrappy appearance. He was often passed unnoticed because of it and people missed his kind personality. The gelding did what he was told to do and never really put up a fight, not even in the more scary situations. Despite that, his tries stayed unnoticed. His first trainer, a man named Irwin Miller, had seen some potential in him as the horse came from England as a budding two year old, but he didn’t see him as the really big star. With a more successful and a more “showy” horse in the barn, one that stood out when it came to both color and temper, Mike’s slight potential were easily forgotten. As the time passed Mike was downgraded to an exhausting schedule of smaller races. Despite of this he stayed all sound throughout his career without even a tender leg or a lost shoe. The star horse however seemed to be prone to kick himself every now and then.

Mike failed to win his first ten races and more often than not he finished back in the field. After that, training him was almost made by afterthought by Miller and Mike was sometimes the source of some rather cruel stable jokes. As a two year old he had a racing schedule with a total of twenty-seven starts but he only managed to win three of these and he came in second five times. Six of these races had been claiming races where Mike could have been bought for a shy sum of money - but nobody wanted him. At the end of the racing season he was occasionally used as an outrider horse or as a rabbit for other, much better horses.

While he had not lived up to his true racing potential, he wasn’t that poor of a performer that Miller thought him to be. But Mike wasn’t alone. Many racehorses never break their maidens and they often fail to win even a single race. The next season, as a three year old, Mike was again less than impressive. He was now seen as a dud and nobody really cared about him. There wouldn’t be a shriek of sadness across the country and nobody would miss him if he would have dropped dead in his next race. There would be no flocking of fans at the farm gates or him receiving truckloads of get well cards. No, he was the classic everyday backyard horse. Easily seen and just as easily forgotten.

Overall he was a decent race horse, not great but decent. The passion and fire in his heart, his will to please were strong despite everything and with the right support he might have become someone. However, in the big racing industry where fortune and fame meant everything an ordinary bay gelding with a bit of bad luck would soon have earned him self that last ticket to the auction house if it hadn’t been for one man. Someone that in a way saw him self linked to the horse and someone that saw that Mike was something more than just an everyday claimer. Then a cruel twist of fate would tie them even tighter to each other.

~ ~ ~ ~

He didn’t see the other horse and rider over his shoulder until too late. To this day he is still not sure what happened but the last things he remembered from the accident was that quick flash of fear you feel when you loose the control of what you are doing, the slow motion feeling where everything, even the sound almost came to a complete halt. There was also the sound from the horses, the image of flailing legs, the other rider flying through the air and then – his own hard impact with the rail and the dirt. Apparently there was some sort of newbie testing Willy had missed hearing about. The prank itself was, when it came down to it, rather innocent. However Willy had taken a lot of painkillers just some hours before and shouldn’t perhaps have ridden at all that day but that ride was his one shot with the trainer and he weren’t going to miss it. The pills made his reaction time slow and the injuries from the assault themselves didn’t help.

Thankfully he didn’t get more hurt than he already was nor did the other rider and horse get any injury but poor Mike - he bravely tried to get his rider out of harms way as good as he could but got some pretty deep gashes from the broken rail on his shoulder in the process.

Neither the owner nor trainer saw any point of keeping a horse just for the fun of it, paying for vet and board hoping it wouldn’t affect the horses running skill. With a “no name horse” Mike’s destiny seemed to have been sealed when he had been just three years old.

With the last of the money from his father Willy bought the horse. He wasn’t really sure why he did it at the time but it was something with the horse that reminded him about his brother. About the same time he made the discovery about his condition and he let his spot as jockey pass. For a time he worked as an outrider while he let Mike recover, most of the paycheck went to the horse’s vet bill. To save money he also gave up his apartment and slept on mattress in Mike’s stall. After the bay gelding had healed up he took some stray jobs with Mike at his side. The former racehorse learned to be ridden in both western and english style and were a good help for his rider when it came to calm horses that was on their toes.

~ ~ ~ ~

Willy inhaled her scent deeply as the woman embraced him. He just couldn’t help it as he felt her warmth, everything that was her. Clarice Shipley had always smelled like…well heaven….or like a mixture of heaven and all the tropical flowers of the world if that was possible to combine the two. He wasn’t sure what sort of perfume she was wearing but it sure wasn’t anything like that female singers own brand that some of the younger female grooms had on. Her womanly body was pressed tightly against his own in a firm hug. Everything about her spoke of coming from a better place in society and she had moved as such too, most likely without knowing it.

After a little while he carefully tried to detangle himself from the woman’s hold but her grip tightened like she thought he would disappear if she let go. It wasn’t because he didn’t like it, because he did…oh god…he did. There wasn’t something nicer than having a woman’s arms around you but…this particularly woman…it was not wise to be too friendly with her. He had learned that the hard way. At that time, he had just done his job, what they had paid him to do…or rather…said they were going to pay him…and he had done his best to be professional about it.

But the daughter of Edward Shipley she hadn’t been so discrete over her budding feelings for him. It wasn’t hard for her brothers to add two and two together. Yet he hadn’t done a thing as to compromise her honor. It had almost been the other way around. She had wanted him to kiss her, to hold her, to…go further, invited him to do so but as hard as it had been he had rejected her - for her sake.

He had told her that it wasn’t something she should rush into. That he wasn’t really the one she was looking for – even if it hurted to say the words. She was everything he wanted. Despite the hurt he told her that she should take her time and not settle with the likes of him. In a softer tone he had added that he couldn’t offer the things she was used to and it wasn’t right – to her – to make her believe things he couldn’t fulfill. There was no way of course for him to know if she was experienced with the…other subject in question…because he himself had no experience whatsoever. He still was waiting…for the one but he wasn’t really sure what he was waiting for. Ben had been the one that the girls liked and wanted to date, and heck…the boys admired him even if he took a girl right from under their noses. His brother had often been picked first in sports and the all girls wanted him to ask them to the dance… It was like all the good things had been offered to his slightly older brother only and he got left with…well the leftovers. If picked at all he was always last even if he wasn’t bad at sports. He was short that was all. Willy doubted Ben would have waited. If it had been Ben then Carter had probably liked him or at least not looked at him like a roach that needed to be squished.

Finally the young woman let her firm hold of him loosen slightly so he could take a step back. He corrected his shirt that showed off his upper body well without being tacky. Thanks all the farmwork he had been doing, both now and before, he was nicely toned in a “natural way”. His muscles were built up by actual work and not by some point focus on a special musclegroup at the gym.

“Good morning and Merry Christmas…Miss Shipley…Mrs. Shi…eh…Miss Stevi…”

His warm honey brown eyes looked at the two women, but he tried to look mostly at Stevi and he smiled as an excuse for calling her by her old name. He tried to keep his gaze locked at Cleo’s owner, making Clarice vanish in some sort of grainy blur on his left side. It felt safer to focus on Stevi since he might blush if he looked directly at Clarice. Especially with the thoughts that had passed still fresh in his mind and because he still could feel her scent, both on him and coming from her. Not that he was scared of her brothers, of what they could do if they knew, but he was rather safe than sorry.

Of course Carter would have a hard time being allowed back here. He didn’t have worry too much about the Shipley brothers doing anything to him while he was here. His thoughts flashed to his time at the Shipley homestead. As the brothers had discovered their sisters liking to him they had taken him aside. They had said they didn’t want his dirty kind around her, taking advantage of her, luring her into giving him all her money like that had been the case. They didn’t even want him to talk to her. They had spoken of what was in store for their sister, talking over her head like she was nobody, a piece of flesh. It even slipped out that their father had someone planned for her already and that she was destined to greater things.

Willy had stepped up for her at that point, his eyes glowing in anger, saying something in the lines that whoever she chose to speak to or be with was her choice and hers alone. Things had been well between him and Clarice then but Carter and Owen must have said something to her later because she didn’t talk for him for days afterwards. She didn’t come to watch him train her horse and if she had to answer his questions about Ebony she had one of the grooms nearby. It was like she – suddenly – had been afraid of him. That had made him a little sad.

A few days after they had taken him aside and he had spoken up for her, her brothers had attacked him without warning as he came out from the barn. He had been taken off guard and the first hit had been with something hard to the back of his head. That had left him partly stunned for a while, unable to do anything. With some well aimed hard kicks to his stomach and head they had kept him grounded and it was only when Carter almost tripped over him that he finally managed to fire off a punch of his own. It had been a weak blow that probably hadn’t hurted that much but he still had gotten a charge for it…for battery despite the fact his injuries was much worse. He hadn’t been that surprised though…the Shipley’s had a good lawyer and he didn’t.

Owen had after his blow towards Carter, kicked him in his back, making black spots appear in front of his eyes. Blood had been running down his face and from his nose when he suddenly had heard a high-pitched scream as well as another angry female voice. He didn’t see who had screamed, or who it was that made them back away from him because at that point he was almost unconscious.

--------Cyrano De Bergerac (7.2f) (Bold Lad (IRE)(7.7f) x Miss St Cyr)
---- Millkom (GB) -r (10.7f)
--------Good Game (Mummy's Game (8.6f) x Bright Brook)
-- Nice Try Mike (GB) Bay TB Gelding (7yo)
--------Komaite (USA) (7.1 f) (Nureyev (USA) (8.0f) x Brown Berry (GB))
---- Lunar Music (GB) -r
--------Lucky Candy (Lucky Wednesday (7.7 f) x Be My Sweet)

Continued here:

Horse ref: [link] by ~Blacke-Horse-Design