Wild Horses (23 page)

“See if you can make him circle at the end.”

They had done this earlier, while trotting. Kai pressed the opposite leg, hoping Cayenne would cut across and make a wide circle, yet the horse cut his corner sharp. The sound of hoofbeats was barely muffled by the sand as they passed the two men in the middle, banking a sharp right. Kai felt his balance shift, much like taking a sharp turn on a bicycle, and before he knew it, he was flying out of the saddle. He tucked and rolled, coming to a rest on one knee.

Cayenne still cantered around unhindered, his tail up and ears perked, looking very satisfied with himself.

Kai looked at Attila. “You think he did that on purpose?”

“Could be,” Attila replied. “Tell me why you fell.”

“He turned too sharp, and suddenly I was leaning to the side.”

“I saw your heel come up and your knee bend—that allowed you to tilt to the side. You have to keep your heels down and your body vertical regardless of what the horse is doing.” Attila saw Cayenne slow down to a trot. “Are you all right?”

Kai circled his shoulders, taking an inventory and brushing the sand off his shirt. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He stood and faced the horse. “Cayenne, come!” He crooked his finger at him.

Cayenne flicked his ears toward him in acknowledgment, coming halfway, then darting to the side.

“He’s giving him a command he can’t enforce.” Kai heard Tibor’s comment carry across the arena.

“I know,” Attila said. “Let’s just watch and see what happens.”

Kai glanced at the two men, grateful for Attila’s vote of confidence, and was pleased when Attila halted Tibor’s next comment by placing a hand on his shoulder. They both stood still, observing.

Kai sauntered toward the sliding door and leaned against it, his hips pressed against the woven strap that formed a barrier to keep the horses inside. His back was turned to Cayenne. He was observing the clouds pass in the blue sky. Seconds elapsed, then minutes. Cayenne tossed his head and whickered, but Kai didn’t move. Only his peripheral vision picked up an impatient stir from Tibor. Soon, though, they saw the young horse extend his head, ears pricked forward with curiosity, as though the arena was boring without a playmate.

Soon, Kai felt the warmth of Cayenne’s head against his shoulder. “Hey, dude,” he said in a quiet voice. “You dumped me. That’s not a game I like.” Kai snaked his large hand up to Cayenne’s halter. “Let’s try again, okay?” Kai led Cayenne to the mounting block, barely getting on his back before Cayenne walked along, fretful and high-strung.

“We will trot,” Kai said, stroking the smooth, brilliant shoulder. “Then we’ll play.” He squeezed his legs, sending Cayenne into a faster pace, remaining seated and focusing on keeping his heels pressed down and his butt in the saddle. He asked the horse to circle and the horse did, expecting to canter next, but Kai sat up and said a soft, “Whoa.” Cayenne took a few more steps before slowing to a halt. Kai dismounted and fished a large piece of an apple out of his pocket.

“Well done, Cayenne. This was fun… wasn’t it? Aren’t you the best and the sweetest? There….” He let his hand stroke the horse’s neck and slide down to his chest for a good scratch.

Kai met Attila’s eyes, and beamed. Attila wore a look of proud approval, while Tibor appeared suitably chastised. It occurred to Kai that Cayenne trusted him a great deal. Maybe someday, sometime soon, Kai would learn to trust Attila just as much.

K
AI
drove back from the Department of Motor Vehicles office with a brand-new Pennsylvania driver’s license in his brand-new wallet. Not only was he legal to drive and in possession of an official form of picture ID, the laminated card stated Blue Heron Acres as Kai’s permanent address. His home.

I guess I’m stayin’.

The thought popped into his head unbidden. At first he was alarmed at its sudden appearance, but after a few moments’ reflection, a curious sense of warmth spread through his whole being. He dared a glance at Attila, who sat in the passenger seat. Kai’s new, inexpensive cell phone and a prepaid SIM card sat in its original big-box shopping bag in Attila’s lap. He’d be official now. He’d have proper paper work, a job, even a cell phone. Buoyed by his recent success, he thought back to the test itself.

“That wasn’t hard at all.” Kai was pleased. Moreover, only a week of local driving helped him shake off the rust. Attila let him have his fun navigating the local roads and running errands. He said himself how helpful it was to have another adult around who could run out to pick up extra horse feed. Kai knew that soon he would learn to pull the trailer to a horse show. His newfound skill had become an asset, and he felt stirrings of pride when Attila said so himself.

“When we get back, we’ll lunge all the horses that aren’t being ridden today,” Attila said, rehashing the day’s battle plan. “After that, you get to ride Sen so you know what to expect from a well-trained horse, and then you’ll duplicate the same thing on Dusty.”

“Yes, sir.”

Attila paused. “Don’t call me ‘sir’,” he said. His voice was mild. “Just Attila, okay?”

Kai felt his eyes widen. “Okay… Attila.”

“We have the advanced jumping class at six, so if you feed the horses while I prepare the jumps, you can go down to the house right after that and get dinner started.”

“It’s a pretty full day. Is Sally saddling up all the mounts?”

“Not only that; she is riding two of them. Now that the temperature has dropped some, they demand more exercise,” Attila said as he scratched his shoulder. “And we need to apply the insect repellent to all the fly sheets.”

“All right.” Kai nodded, pulling into the driveway. “By the way, when will Hal start riding again?”

“Next week. Just flat work, no jumps. It will be a relief to have him back. Also, now that you have your paperwork in order, I got the ball rolling on getting you signed up in a health insurance plan.”

“How much will it be?” Kai frowned, going over his budget in his mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” Attila replied, staring out the window. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to keep you safe.”

Kai swallowed, thinking if keeping Attila safe was in his power, he would do the same for him. He had started to think of them as a “we.” A couple. The thought was vaguely threatening, because if he had gained something, he could also lose it.

“Attila? We’re here.” Kai’s voice roused Attila from distracted thought, and it occurred to Kai that he was not the only one who was struggling with their new relationship status.

D
RESSED
for work, Kai strode down the length of the barn with saddle and tack in his arms. He would ride Bubbles today. The mare’s real name was “Chilled Spumanti” on account of her champagne coloring: her luminous, golden coat was highlighted by an ivory-colored mane and tail. Attila had instructed him to let her blow off some steam by lunging her first and only then exchanging her halter for a bridle and working her in a series of trotting exercises. He would work Bubbles for forty minutes, then untack her and move on to her stablemate. All the horses worked that day belonged to Mona, and they needed regular exercise and human interaction. Of them all, Kai loved Bubbles the most, even more than Lindsey’s Zorro. She was a sight to behold in the sun: an apparition spun of gold and silver, prancing and showing off in hope that Kai would bring out the large equine ball and play a bit of soccer with her. He smiled. Maybe he could spare ten minutes after she cooled off a bit. He loved seeing her run to intercept his passes and kick the ball back in his direction, only to walk up to him afterward and request a carrot for a job well done.

He set the saddle on the pile of hay bales and walked up to her door.

“Hey, Bubbles. Ready for some playtime?” He had fed her much earlier, before his driver’s license test. Kai pulled the heavy door open and unclicked the chain that barred his way. Bubbles failed to acknowledge his presence. Her back was turned, her head was hanging, and she was swaying from side to side.

Kai had never seen a horse do anything like that before. He slipped into the stall, bringing his hand to the mare’s rump, easing his way along her left side. “Hey, Bubbles. Won’t you play with me today?” He stroked her neck and grabbed her halter to turn her head. Her eyes were unfocused and dull, her ears motionless. He felt her press her nose against his chest, but her press was different than that of her usual greeting. There was nobody home. Kai realized her neck felt unnaturally hot. “Oh, Bubbles… you’re not coming down with something, are ya?” He peeked into her untouched feed bucket and his alarm grew. “Be right back, sweetheart. Just… be right back.”

He ran through the barn, across the paved courtyard, and burst into the arena, where Attila was working one of the horses over a course of jumps. “Attila! Attila….”

Attila cleared the last jump and turned his head toward Kai. His mount walked toward Kai with no indication of having been asked to do so and stopped one foot away from him. “What is it, Kai?”

Panic seized Kai again. “Bubbles… I think she’s sick. She’s hot, an’… she’s not responding t’me, an’ she’s moving all funny.”

Gray, almost blue eyes fixed the younger man with a calming gaze. “Now, take a deep breath, Kai. Horses do get sick, just like humans do. I want you to walk Brandy around for me until Sally comes in and takes over, then I’ll want you to come see Bubbles with me.”

Air became rare. Kai took a deep breath, banishing the vision of his father’s hospital room from his mind. “Okay. Okay, Attila.”

The other man slid down from the saddle and handed Brandy’s reins to Kai. “I’ll go have a look.”

A few minutes later, Sally came to take over for Kai. She nodded toward the gate. “The boss wants you.” Her tone was all business, but Kai thought he detected a flash of pain in her eyes. When he got to the barn, Attila was on his cell phone with the vet. He hung up, only to dial another number.

“Mona, this is Attila Keleman,” he said, his tone weighed down by grave formality. “I am afraid we have a situation on our hands.”

Kai watched him take a few steps away as he delivered the unwelcome news. As soon as he saw him hang up, he took a few more steps toward Attila, eyes wide. “What’s wrong with her? She was fine this morning! She greeted me like usual. I petted her and she felt fine. Now she’s burning up!”

“The vet is coming,” Attila said. “Although….”

“Yes?” Kai latched onto his every word.

“Look at the way she started walking in her stall. Round and round. She is circling, Kai. What does that tell you?”

Kai plunged his fingers into his long hair and scratched under the rubber band on his ponytail. He had read about something similar recently, and it wasn’t good. “I can’t remember the name,” he admitted. “But I remember this was some kind of a fever… something tropical, I think.”

Attila faced him, but his eyes were veiled and unreadable. “Mona will be here within the hour. The vet will be here sooner than that. I need you to carry on with Sally. Take care of the other horses, Kai, and I’ll stay with Bubbles.”

This was hard—so very hard. Kai peered through the bars of the stable door, taking in the brilliant gold coat of the mare before him and the way it darkened in the shadows of her confines. Her head was bent down at an unnatural angle, her pale, ethereal mane wisping down her formerly graceful neck. He thought his heart would break at the sight of her confused, stiff movements. “All right. I’ll go take care of the others.” Chin high, he nodded to Attila and walked away.

A little, selfish piece inside his heart was glad he didn’t have to stay and watch Bubbles suffer. He spent a moment to send a prayer of thanks that the sick horse was not Cayenne.

A
TTILA
saw the red Mercedes screech into the small parking lot without regard for people or dogs, almost clipping the white van.

Ambulatory Veterinary Service.

Somebody attempted to counteract the dry name in green letters by pasting cartoonish decals around the van’s perimeter; the effect was more one of a deranged Noah’s Ark rather than a reassuring portrayal of sick animals getting well.

Mona and Lindsey spilled out of the red car, slamming the doors and rushing toward the stables, identical ponytails of blonde hair bobbing along the way. “What’s wrong with Bubbles?” Mona said in a high-pitched voice. She need not have been so loud, since Attila and Dr. Murphy stood right by the stall.

“I took some blood samples,” Dr. Murphy said, turning to the owner. “The symptoms seem to indicate a form of equine encephalitis, but the underlying cause is not known as of yet. I need a copy of her vaccination records. Who was taking care of her up till now?”

Mona swallowed. “I have the copies at home… I think.” She turned to the still figure next to the vet. “Attila? Would you have a copy of my horses’ records anywhere?”

Not saying a word, Attila nodded and reached into the pocket of his jeans. After pulling up a customer service app on his iPhone, he scrolled to a special section, which contained Mona Putnam’s six horses. A few clicks later, he handed the device to the veterinarian.

“Ah… thank you.” Dr. Murphy scrolled down the records for Bubbles, then for the other mounts.

His eyebrow rose as he met Attila’s eyes. “Do you mind if I look at the records for the other horses as well?” He asked.

“Go right ahead,” Attila said, not quite bothering to disguise his relief at the vet’s request.

“What do the other horses have to do with anything?” Mona sounded downright defensive.

The doctor was not a tall man, but the way he met her eyes attested to his undeniable sense of presence and gravitas. “What affects one horse might affect the rest as well. However, Mrs. Putnam, I note that even though your horses are vaccinated against all the usual communicable diseases, you have not given them shots against several other things…. Hmm… I’m curious what the titer from Bubbly will tell us.”

Mona paled. “Encephalitis?”

“What does that mean, Mom?” Lindsey’s question went unanswered, so she turned her attention to her trainer. “Attila, what does that mean?”