Elise tried to love Whirlwind, she truly did. He was gorgeous and willing. She, like her mother, could sense his strength and potential. But he was aloof. She had worked daily with Whirlwind for seven years, yet she’d still never felt a bond with him. That connection between a horse and rider was not merely desired, it was necessary for success in competition. It indicated a true partnership, a willingness to work together to lead them both to victory.
But Elise had always felt hesitant around Whirlwind, and he likely sensed it. Maybe, she thought, their inability to work together was on both of them. Was she holding back from Whirlwind as well?
She felt his eyes on her as she approached, tension already rippling in his body. Two horses were being led out of stalls by the grooms. The clatter of their hooves echoed in the barn. As Elise glanced at Whirlwind, their gazes locked. His eyes flashed and his head pulled up as he snorted, then pawed the ground. There was a change of routine this morning, and Whirlwind was sensitive to change.
“Hey, there,” she crooned softly. “It’s all right. I’m going to take care of you.” When she reached out her hand toward his muzzle, he jerked his head back, refusing to let her touch him.
Elise felt her stomach drop. Whirlwind had a lot of anxiety around trailers. He’d had a trailer accident and, though it had been years ago, he’d never forgotten it. His resistance was already beginning, and she knew it could spiral as soon as he saw the trailer.
Elise let herself into his stall, padded to protect him from his kicking. She was careful to keep her movements easy and her voice low. Whirlwind shifted back when she reached up to put the shipping halter on him, but she was firm, securing the halter and lead rope in one easy motion. She then covered his legs with special wraps for protection during transport. Taking a deep breath, she led him out of his stall, through the barn, and into the yard. Once in the open air she paused, catching her breath as she assessed the situation. Every step would have to be calculated to get Whirlwind into the trailer without causing damage to him . . . or to her. She measured the distance to the trailer in her mind and considered the best approach.
“Uh, Miss Elise,” a groom called out.
She turned toward the voice, seeing a lanky, ruddy-faced man with hair the color of a raven’s wing walking toward her, one hand raised to flag her attention. She didn’t know him—she only saw him around the barn every once in a while—but she was vaguely annoyed at the interruption nevertheless.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Mr. Karl, see . . . he told me that no one was supposed to go near that horse ’cepting him.”
A flare of anger surged up in Elise’s chest. Karl Reiter was Whirlwind’s trainer, a brilliant dressage rider in his own right. Like the horse he trained, Karl was young and had great potential. He had joined the Klug stable in hopes of one day being allowed to ride one of the excellent horses in competition. He wasn’t so much handsome as he was striking, with his tall, lean, athletic body and fine Germanic features. He had the self-confidence, courage, and patience required in a good trainer, and Elise couldn’t help but admit that she admired him. But his confidence often bordered on an arrogance that irritated her, as did the obvious bond he shared with Whirlwind. In Elise’s opinion, Karl had too strong a sense of ownership over her horse. He was, after all, an employee—not Whirlwind’s owner.
“Did he?” Elise asked the groom slowly with narrowed eyes. “Well, you can tell Mr. Karl that Whirlwind is my horse, and I’ll thank him not to interfere.”
“Yes’m.” The groom was clearly eager not to get between his boss and this young woman. He turned and trotted away behind the barn.
Elise was aware of the dangers involved in attempting to load Whirlwind onto the trailer herself, but she’d done it countless times with other horses in her ten years on the circuit. Traveling with horses was part of the equestrian world, where a rider competed in one event after another, sometimes in foreign countries. Yes, Whirlwind was a challenge. But Elise was determined to prove that she could handle it. She could hear in her mind her mother’s words that very morning: If you can’t handle that animal, I’ll find a rider who can.
“Come on, big boy,” Elise said in a calming voice. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. We’re just going for a ride.”
She took her first steps toward the top-of-the-line trailer. Like a stretch limo, it was capable of carrying multiple passengers and was set up with box stalls, fans, and even videos for the horses. “Such a fancy trailer. Only the best for you,” she crooned, hoping her voice would soothe him.
But Whirlwind was having none of it. Having caught sight of the trailer, he laid his ears back, and she could feel him bow up for a fight. The closer they drew to the trailer, the more she could see his muscles tighten. Suddenly he stopped short and yanked his head back. The power of his move almost lifted Elise’s petite frame from the ground, but she held tight to the lead rope.
“Whirlwind, no!” she cried out. “Come on, it’s okay. . . .” Once she got him under control again, she tried to reach up to pat his neck, but he haughtily pulled back his head and looked at her with disdain. Clearly he had no intention of letting her touch him or of getting close to the trailer. He backed away farther, snorting, jerking the lead, refusing her. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head yelling, Get him under control!
“Come on!” Elise tugged on the lead to make him move forward. This time when he raised his head, his nostrils flared and his eyes rolled back. She could see the whites. She froze: the horse was in full panic.
Whirlwind reared up on his hind legs, whinnying loudly. Elise held tight to the lead, pulling back with the weight of her body. It was a contest of wills between a 115-pound body and a 1,700-pound one. Elise was going to lose. For the first time, she was afraid.
Suddenly she felt a strong arm grab the lead and jerk it out of her grip, the owner’s other hand pushing her farther away. She stumbled back a few steps and looked up to see Karl standing in front of the panicked horse, his legs wide and his right hand up. Rather than pull back on the lead, he allowed slack, wiggling the rope back and forth gently.
“Whoa,” he called out calmly. “Whoa, Schätzchen.”
Elise felt shamed by the sheen of tears in her eyes as Karl brought Whirlwind down from his panic, guiding him to walk backward. Karl was confident. Patient. All the things she wasn’t. She saw not one glimmer of fear in Karl’s blue eyes as he stared up at the great horse. Only a calm concern that radiated to Whirlwind.
Watching, Elise felt her self-esteem wither, and her heart was filled with self-recrimination. She knew better than to tighten the lead on a panicking horse, but she’d panicked too, escalating Whirlwind’s fear. The air was thick with humidity from the oncoming storm and the kicked-up dust stuck to her skin. She could taste its bitterness in her mouth.
When Whirlwind quieted, Karl petted his neck, then made soothing remarks as he began walking the horse in wide circles as though he had all the time in the world. Whirlwind snorted, his hooves kicking up the dust in his spirited prance. The other grooms kept their distance, waiting to load their charges until after Whirlwind was settled. Whirlwind was like the oncoming hurricane, moving in an unpredictable, dangerous path. After several more rounds the stallion had calmed down completely. Only then did Karl turn his attention to Elise. Under his shock of blond hair, his eyes sparked with fury.