Late January 2006

DIANA

Dinner was bubbling on the stove; the horses were already fed; the dogs were getting in their early evening naps. Okie was stretched out on the sofa, and Holly was curled up in the chair Terry used for his evening reading. A pretty, peaceful setting for all the non-humans on the place. I, on the other hand, was fighting with my old printer.

Holly brought her head up and leapt from her comfortable spot. Okie had to follow suit though not knowing exactly why. I knew.

There are advantages to his having a key to the house. There is no longer the need to coordinate schedules so tightly; I must admit, I had started to chafe under my own requirement to be home to let him in. That had been particularly helpful today. I no longer have to stop what I am doing to open the door. Sometimes I miss that; today was not one of them. I had my hands full.

“I'm home!” Terry announced while sidling in the door. He has learned how to get in the door without having the dogs make a break for freedom – the freedom to terrorize the neighborhood. I could hear Holly's nails on the hardwood floor; she must be doing her 'Labrador Leap of Joy.' Okie's “Rar-roooo” also greeted the man of the house.

I poked my head around the corner while fighting the printer to get the paper to feed into the slot. The rollers gave out so long ago that I now hand feed each sheet. “Hi! I'm glad you're home.”

I'm not quite sure when I stopped thinking of him as “The Man Who Came to Dinner” and didn't leave. It may have been about the time he took over 51% of the closet space. I would say now he has 2/3 of it.

Along with my closet, he has my heart. He had most of it before I met him; he has all of it now. Things are going so well between us that I hate to do anything that might upset this precarious emotional balance I have with him. I know I am trying too hard to protect myself, and I can't help it. I want him to be happy with me. I want him to love me. I can only hope I am doing a good enough job of showing him how I feel. I am quite happy that he comes home to me at the end of the day. I think I’m afraid to ask for more.

He disappeared into our bedroom with the dogs trailing behind him, looking to all the world, well, if the world could see into our home, like some odd pied piper – a black dog right beside his leg, looking up adoringly, and a curly tailed dark tan dog on his heels. In my mind's eye I could see Terry in the closet grabbing his Levis and t-shirt and tossing them on the bed. I could see Okie hopping on the bed and making himself comfortable on the soft shirt. Holly would be at Terry's side in the closet to help in any way she could as he strips himself of his corporate persona and morphs into 'after-hours Terry.' As he hangs up his uniform, the suit and tie, and tosses his shirt in the laundry basket, his whole demeanor changes; the cares of the world drop from him, and he is ready for some quiet. He would sit on the bed to have the same chat with Okie they have every day about the inappropriateness of t-shirts as bedding. I have watched this scene often enough that I can see it clearly though I am not in the room.

Should I make more of an effort to greet him? Probably. I am fearful a more demonstrative greeting will take something from me. I have no idea what. I really don't want to examine it. This casual attitude is working right now.

Terry ambled in with the dogs trailing, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, and nuzzled my neck before he sat at the bar watching my fight with the printer. “It's unusual for you to print anything. Your preference is to complete forms on-line.”

“Yes, well, most of the small eventing venues don’t have a full time IT person to handle on-line entries, so the entries arrive by snail mail. Besides, they need a copy of the Coggins report. They also don't have a phalanx of volunteers to match entries to Coggins. Oh, I give up for right now.”

I swiveled to face him. I wondered if old eagle-eye would notice the new chair; there would be no reason for him to be able to tell the difference. I had replaced the pale blue chair with the same exact model. I had assembled it before he got home with our tools; I needed to make friends with the new set. I kept my own screwdrivers as the backup in the tool shed.

“How was your day? Did Dino survive the auditors?”

“He did well. I won’t have to testify on his behalf.”

“Given the scrapes you two have gotten each other into over time, I don’t think he would be calling you as a character reference.”

Terry was starting to examine the chair, but the bar was too far away to give it a thorough examination. With an ease practiced around the world in too many bars, he slid from his perch. He leaned over me and ran his hands over the upholstery on the back of the chair, thoroughly smothering me in his belly. He stepped back and turned me in the chair around to inspect the back.

“Is this a different chair? I remember some tears on the back. They're gone.”

“Yep, I had to buy a new one today. Remember sitting here last night?”

The pleased look on his face told me that he did. “One of my fonder memories. It may be the last thing I think about before senility takes it all away.” Pleased turned to smug. “What does the two of us in the chair have to do with a new one appearing? Are you having the other one bronzed?”

“Today, when I sat down to answer some emails, I leaned on the right arm like I always do, and it fell off. It did more than fall off; it shattered along a weak grain. Do you have any idea how that could have happened?”

I could see the wheels turning, re-enacting where legs, arms, and butts of two very energetic lovers had been. That was insufficient for him. His right index finger began a lively dance that clearly was following last night’s movements.

“The best I can reckon it was either your back supporting both of us or my leg that caused the fracture. I could be wrong.” Yes, it had been memorable. “Up. Up, up, up. Let me try out this one. I want the cushion to mold to my comfort as well as yours.”

He rocked side to side settling in, turned it all the way around, and adjusted the height. “Let’s try this one out while it’s still under warranty.” I arranged myself on his lap. Okie lounged on mine. Holly stuck her head through the arm to get a quick sniff of Terry’s crotch.

“Sorry, Holly girl, my lap is filled two deep. Stay right there so you’re close.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He rubbed his 6:45 stubble on my cheek. I have no need for facial peels; I think he does a fine job. It is much more satisfying than going to a day spa.

The devil in him made him do it, I know. He could not resist slipping his cold beer under the front of my shirt and pressing it against my skin. It got his desired reaction; I pressed in closer to him. I knew there was a reason I don’t tuck my shirttails in except when we’re in public.

“Do you still have the connection up?” I was so tempted to make a crack about up. Terry has learned to read my shoulders, even when clothed, and neck. “Don’t answer that. Let’s see if I can type with most of the crew blocking me.”

I truly did not want to get into a mad pash. Dinner would be ready shortly, and I was hungry. I had tried a new dish, an African stew called Shalako. Of course, I had substituted Habañero peppers for the African ones called for in the recipe. After traipsing into town to get a new chair and assembling it, my day had been shot to hell. I ended up with insufficient time to drive all the way across Dallas to the only ethnic African market I knew. Chinese, Japanese, and Indian markets are easily found nearby, but the African market was in far south Dallas. We live in the homogeneous territory beyond the far northern regions. It was incredibly special the day the Albertson’s started carrying fresh Portobello mushrooms. I have heard Shitakes may be available any day.

Another reason I did not want a mad pash was because I did not want to make another trip to Staples to get another chair the next day. I was afraid with the lot of us on the chair it, too, was destined for the dump. Explaining another purchase of the same chair in two days running would be too embarrassing for words.

We found that Terry could type if I was the only one on his lap. Okie left grudgingly. Terry's keyboard shelf was my lap. I ran the mouse on its normal pad. While the enterprise was a lot of fun, I can't recommend the method for speed. Sometimes four hands are not better than two.

“Who manufactured the chair?” Terry had not taken the time to read the tag.

“Armstrong Manufacturing.” The absurdity of how we had destroyed their prior chair and the manufacturer's name was not lost on us. We spent the next minute laughing.

“Right then.” Terry typed. I clicked, and we were soon perusing the parts list for our chair.

“What are we looking for?” I was very confused as this is a brand new chair; what new parts could we possibly need? “Cupholders?”

“We are ordering additional arms so we have a supply in house should the need arise.” I could feel Terry’s thighs tensing under me. I was about to be dumped in the floor. “Off me, Diana. I need to get my wallet.”

“I haven’t been tempted to off you, ever. Dump me in the floor, and I may reconsider. Why do you need your wallet? My credit card is right in this drawer.”

I read; he typed; I clicked. As soon as UPS can deliver, Mr. Thorne and I will have additional arms to install if needed.

“As soon as the arms arrive, one of us will be writing a scathing letter of protest regarding the quality of their chairs. I can’t believe we are the first couple to have broken them.”

“Terry, in American manufacturing today, they can’t test for how we broke the chair. At the very least, it would fall under sexual harassment.” He nuzzled my neck.

“Not if we volunteered for the task.”

TERRY

The food at dinner was fine though the pepper was different than that I had tasted in Africa. Dinner conversation was a different matter and failed to meet with my total approval. I could understand Diana's concern about nervousness, but my total banishment from her return to eventing seemed unreasonable.

“Terry, I do want you to come to at least one show, just not the first one. Without someone guiding you around, you'll have no idea what’s going on and be bored spitless. You could also get hurt. If you were there, I would be more worried about you, and Jack or I could get hurt. I've come to grips intellectually with how dangerous your job can be, but to see you get trampled by an excited horse at one of my shows? No, thank you.”

“You can start my show education now. I haven't memorised the Blue Book yet, but I have made a good start. I AM your groom around here.”

“You certainly can't go as my groom.” Why does the English language have so many different meanings for the same word? I believe it was the American writer, Mark Twain, who observed that the British and Americans were peoples separated by a common language. Add Australians to that, and you’d be on point. My cocked eyebrow led her to believe we might be starting one of 'those' conversations. She rushed on to nip that in the bud. “You aren't experienced enough in handling horses to be a groom at an event. You can't loosen a girth while a horse is standing still, let alone while he is dancing around and blowing coming off the cross country course.”

Blowing? Now that got my attention. Once again, another multiple-meaninged word. Even though she was telling me why I was not a candidate for work this season, her enthusiasm for the sport was radiating off her. “Jack will be as excited as he can possibly get just being around different horses. Maximus has a chance of not getting kicked. Do you know when to put a stud in?” Yes, I did know how to do that though not in the subject she was discussing. She read my leer well. “A stud in a horse shoe is what I meant. Until you have a whole season of watching, I will not even consider you for support staff, let alone working with a horse.” The woman must have a thesaurus in her head for she avoided using emotionally charged words in this conversation after her first slip, though leaving me my lewd wanderings.

“We have lots of time before you even find out if you are entered at Kosse for you to teach me the basics. I can go to the barn with you to watch you school Jack. Alice, that's your coach's name, right?” I wonder if Alice would be offended if I shortened her name to 'Alcie' or if I could get away with calling her 'Coach?' “Alice can walk me through what you’re doing. You'll have to teach me sometime. Why not start now?”

“You’re willing to go to the barn with me?” She clapped her hands over her eyes. “You have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for with that one. That is, unless.... Yeah, that could work.”

I had successfully steered the conversation away from the first event towards my education. “Would you like to finish any one of those statements?” I have so much to learn about how her mind works.

“If I sneak you in, it could work; there is a lot of speculation about you …and Maximus. I'll only tell Alice that you are coming and swear her to secrecy. Yeah, that could work. Mind you that will about three weeks before Kosse.”

“I'll mark my calendar for late February then. You have a date for a schooling session.” Ah, yes. I can surprise her with my correct turn of phrase appropriately used and delivered. “Since you mentioned Maxie, I gather he will be going as Jack's groom? Should I plan on keeping Reags company that weekend?” She ignored the grin on my face.

“Umm, Reags is going, too. I'll need someone to keep track of me. I am not kidding, Terry. I'll be very nervous; it will get communicated to Jack. He never gets terribly upset, but ... If I knew you were there, it would be even worse.”

Precisely the opening I needed. I would go, but Diana would never know I was there. “Well, you’ll need someone to take care of the herd whilst you’re gone. I'll see to that.” Her relief was palpable.

My education began in earnest after dinner. Diana sat down on our new chair and brought up the eventing website. She quickly checked the current Board of Directors and seemed pleased with Area V's representatives. One of the women on the Board is responsible for Diana getting into the sport. They had worked together at an earlier point in time, and she invited Diana along for a very low level event. One horse trial, and Diana was hooked.

She started me off reading the overview whilst she began writing her rules for spectators. (Click here to read Spectator Rules)  I skimmed the overview. Diana had already given me most of that information.

“There's no mention here about the cavalry officer promotion test as the beginning of the sport.”

“They moved away from the cavalry aspect shortly after Patton was so successful with the tanks. It took a different set of skills for promotion. It's only hardcore eventers who even remember the roots.” She leaned over to click me to the rule book. “Next set of reading.”

I groaned at the thought of the 136 page rule book for me. “All of it?” She had pity on me and wrote down the sections that were absolutely mandatory for me to read; that amounted to about 10 pages.

“I'll be riding Novice level all this spring. The pace for cross country is only 350 meters per minute; the jumps are small and pretty straightforward. I don't really have a competitive nature and really don't care about moving up. I take Jack to these things because it is a fun weekend away. We see different landscapes, and eventing people are the salt of the earth. Most of them anyway.”

She started to move away, but I pulled her down onto my lap. “If we can't go lay down to read, stay here whilst I stare at the screen.”

“Gladly. Since I'm having you read piecemeal and not subjecting you to the definitions, some things may not make sense. I'm right here with the answers.” She rearranged herself leaning right so I could see the monitor on the left. She went back to writing my instructions for the event I would attend. I have no doubt a lecture will be in my future.

Dressage is designed to show the horse's gaits and obedience; the arena is 20 meters wide by 60 meters long and is marked with letters round the railing. The objective is to have the aids be as invisible as possible. Dressage is the foundation for both the cross country and stadium phases.

Diana looked over to where I was reading. “Dressage is the dress up part of the event. Coat, tie, white breeches. The hardest part about getting ready for dressage is braiding Jack's mane. God, it's been so long I've forgotten how many braids he's supposed to have.” She started a new page on her tablet labelled “Supplies.” She put Dippity Do on the first line. I thought it was a hair product. Diana flipped another page and put Schedule on it, adding Polish Boots – get Terry to help. I didn't like the looks of that. I have polished enough boots to last me a lifetime. I may be sorry that I got her riding boots for Christmas.

“They even specify how many braids to put in the mane?”

“It's tradition. It would so embarrass Jack if I put in the number of braids to signify he's a mare.” Now she’s gone anthropomorphic on me.

I could see how shamed he would be round the other geldings, considering they had already given up their balls for the cause. Diana added Work on flexibility. I was disappointed I was not included on that task.

I went back to my dry reading. Cross country was first designed to test the cavalry officer and his mount's ability to carry messages from one point to another. It proves the speed, stamina, courage, boldness, and jumping ability of the horse and the rider's knowledge of pace and use of the horse across country. The jumps are natural obstacles such as logs, ditches, and may include water as part of the element. Jumps are marked with red and white flags and must be jumped between the flags. The rider walks the course before the competition begins; the first time the horse sees the course is when he is asked to traverse it.

“This is where you wear your version of a flak jacket?”

“Yes, and for stadium. For cross country it has to be on top of my shirt. Easier for the EMT's to get through it in case of an accident.” She flipped to Supplies. Get new green t-shirts. Long and short sleeved. “This phase is really, shall we say, colorful. Everybody rides in their barn colors. Mine are red, white, blue and green. That way when the tack store has a sale, they always have what I need in my colors.”

I thought to feeding time. The buckets are multi-coloured. I had been so careful to use the same bucket for each horse thinking there might be some code attached to it when in actuality it was Diana's frugal nature. I have so much to learn before I start riding again, not that I’d ridden much in the past.

Diana continued adding background to the dry, written rules. “The rider's shirts help the jump judges. If you screw up at a fence, the judge can describe your colors and how the horse refused. It keeps down the squabbles.” Diana started another new page marked Load. She wrote Hose on one line then Buckets on the next. She flipped to the Supplies page and added Get 5 gallon water bottles.

Her notes were too much for me. She was duplicating efforts here. “Diana, would you like for me to open Excel so you can get started?”

“Hmm? Ah, no, but thank you. You need to read. I already have the template set up. These are just odds and ends that aren't in there already.”

Odds and ends? A fun weekend away? This seems like moving a barn for a weekend.

“How much actual riding do you do on this weekend?”

“It's not so much the riding on the weekend. Including warm-ups, probably only an hour and a half of actual riding time, and only 15 minutes of that is competition. It's the hours in the saddle leading up to that. The event is the goal.”

“How far do you gallop on cross country?”

“A couple of miles. Fifteen or sixteen jumps. It will be interesting to see what Jack does with water. My plan is to trot him into the water so he doesn't get too splashed. I may even walk into the pond if we can't get much water schooling in between now and then. He should be able to step over the jump coming out of the water so the pace won't matter. Most people have already been getting ready over the summer and competed this fall. Jack's a little out of shape, but with smart training he'll do just fine.”

Right, she’s not ‘competitive.’ She is not out to beat any one person. She'll give it her best go. Diana will minimize Jack's and her own weaknesses and maximize their strengths. She sounds like a bloody sports interview.

Back to the dry reading. Stadium jumping differs from cross country jumping in that the stadium jumps can be easily knocked down. The horse and rider must be accurate, controlled, and precise.

“When you do stadium, will you have to rebraid Jack?”

“Not at the Novice level. Stadium is used to weed out the folks who don't have the control required of their horse to go cross country. It's a safety issue. For Novice you do your dressage test, stadium, and then cross country in that order; cross country will be on Sunday. I will unbraid the last two or three braids at his withers for stadium. That way I can hang on to him directly in case we have a bad round. I learned that from an Olympic rider. She was having a lousy round; she almost came off her horse when he flat stopped at one of the jumps. I noticed she had a her fingers laced through his mane; for her to get thrown, she would have pulled his mane out by the roots. She finished the round balancing herself on his neck. Of course, she was riding with broken ribs. I figured an Olympic rider with broken ribs probably rides better than I do healthy. Why shouldn't I use her trick? It's legal. For cross country the horse's mane is completely free.”

“Is that so you can hang on any way you can?”

“Nope. Cross country is rough and ready. Braids are too refined for that. Braids are for arriving at the opera.” The opera …I smiled in memory.

She pointed at the screen again. “Finish with the safety section. Then I'll explain why I’ll probably be such a bitch for the next six weeks.”

I was glad to see all the safety precautions built into the sport. Every bit of safety equipment for both the horse and rider was a requirement. Diana had gone farther with the addition of breakaway stirrups to minimize the chance of her foot being caught in a stirrup and being dragged if there was a problem.

The schedule Diana showed me for working Jack into shape would be grueling. Both Jack and Diana could physically do everything that would be required of them; the major training would be on endurance. Since there are few long trails that allow horses, Diana would be doing interval training with Jack. She wouldn't have to haul him anywhere, and they could work on conditioning daily.

Interval training builds up both the horse and rider's cardio-vascular systems. After the horse warms up by walking and trotting, the real work begins. He is ridden for a few minutes at a faster gallop than he will be required to use. The gallops gradually work up to longer times. Between the fast work, they would trot for lengthier time periods and then back to the gallop. It’s a very effective programme but incredibly time consuming.

“Now the reason I may be bitchy is Jack is in better shape than I am. I’ll be continuing my own separate exercises here at home. I don't mind the riding workout, but I hate doing sit ups.”

“I'll do them with you. It will save me from going to the gym. I’d much rather be working out with you than a group of hot, sweaty men.” A hot, sweaty Diana held much more appeal for me than the Texas Club.

“I'm not going for muscle mass; I’m going for strength. You’ll still have to do your lifting with Dino or Max to keep your shoulders.” Her hand slipped under my sleeve for a quick rub. I wonder if I had enough time to flex before she could feel it? “But sit ups together would be a motivator. Thank you for offering.

“Interval training will be heaviest now – probably four or five times a week for the next month. The bad part of that is Jack will get so bored. He'll probably start looking forward to dressage; at least with that I can throw in different figures to keep his interest. On the days we aren't doing dressage, we'll pop over a few fences to keep him sharp. He needs to be fit enough to do the Training level course when we go Novice. He has the talent.” She switched topics on me. Sometimes keeping up with her changes of thought is enough to cause mental whiplash.

“It’s a very good thing the work team is self-sustaining except for Rod. I could just strangle him sometimes.”

“Are you saying that if I wish to see you, I will have to go to Alice's for a quick snog?”

“I will always make time for you.” She hesitated at the end of that statement; perhaps an endearment almost came from her. “I may be sore for the next couple of weeks and not able to move much from all the additional exercising. Do we have many social engagements between now and March? I'd like to minimize those.”

“Since you’ll be so busy getting ready and working, I think that can be arranged. I'll only accept the most crucial ones.” The only crucial obligation I had at this moment was making sure Diana had some time to spend with me. “Why don't I take the morning feeds when I'm in town? You can sleep in. Maxie chewed my arse pretty well, telling me I should be doing more of the heavy work round here. He's right.”

“He's wrong. I can handle this place by myself. I adore you for offering, but it isn't necessary. How about this for a compromise? Why don't we do the morning feed together? It will give us a few more minutes together. I promise not to issue orders. You know the drill and do a wonderful job. The horses are really relaxed around you now.” Coming from Diana, that was high praise, indeed. I didn't mean to come the tall poppy, but I did.

“It sounds as if life will have to run on a very tight schedule until March. I only ask one thing of you.”

“I know I am asking a lot of you, Terry. I certainly can accommodate one request.” She looked so afraid.

“Please be sure to schedule some time for us. I don't mean just while we're asleep.”

“Thursday nights and Sunday afternoons are already scheduled to spend with you. Does that work?”

“It will. With my recent travel schedule, that may be more time than we've had in a while.”

Diana's prediction did not come true; she never turned into a bitch. We were now into their heavy training schedule, and I have seen her pre-occupied on days when she and Jack had a difficulty; I have also seen her so tired I don't know how she drove home. She has apologized on so many occasions for so many different things that I am speechless; she has felt guilty about the laundry (that's why dry cleaners exist), dinner (she forgets I am a capable cook), computer time (she is bearing the brunt of data analysis for the Cairo project), exercises (I didn't mind that one bit. Holding Diana's legs for her sit ups is a sight to behold. No knickers.), house cleaning (paid house keepers work a treat).

She was apologizing again. “I’m so sorry I’m late. How was your day?” She made up for her lateness with a kiss that kept me from answering her question.

“Sit down here with me for a minute.” I could have phrased that better. “Let's just sit here and talk for a minute. Dinner is started. You cannot kiss me like that and then run off.”

She snuggled into my arms. The fire in the fireplace would last well into the night. Luckily the fireplace is two sided with the other side facing into the master bedroom. No matter what time we decide to have a fire, we can enjoy it without a worry.

I believe Diana could wiggle into a comfortable position anywhere. Her figure has changed in the last month; she is slimmer but stronger. When she wraps her legs round me now, they’re like a vise. Her lips are perpetually chapped from the cold and wind, as are her cheeks.

“Terry, it won't always be like this. Once Jack and I get ready for this first one, I won't have to spend so much time at the barn.”

“Have you heard me complain? You’re so alive now. You’re back to doing something you love, and I’m in the mix. You don't have to change your life completely for me. I don't want you to do that. This is you.”

“You've had to change so much for me. You deserve a beautiful woman, not one who has lousy rough, wind-chapped skin. When was the last time you saw me in a dress? You deserve a lady, not someone who swears like a sailor.”

“I fancy you in sailor mode. As to your dress, did I not tell you a woman in tall, black boots with a whip is every school boy's fantasy?” Something more than Diana's normal guilt was bothering her tonight. She tells me what I deserve when something other than I and my foibles are bothering her. Quite honestly, I don't think she sees my bad habits. Right now she is trying to carry her own wishes and be some fantasy woman she thinks I want. She doesn't believe that I want her. “What happened today? Is something wrong with Jack?”

“Jack's fine. We had a good ride once I got there. Remember Rod?”

“Rod the Project Problem Child? Of course.”

“He had a deadline to get a coherent explanation to Amanda about some sub-routine in the accounting system. She needed it Tuesday. I found out this morning that she still doesn't have it. I spent all morning trying to track him down. He was in Las Vegas! He thinks he’s found some new way to put the odds in his favor!”

“Diana, that’s NOT your fault. He's earning a paycheck to get a job done, not research gambling theories. Has his annoyance factor outstretched his usefulness factor? What did Traub say?”

“Traub said the same thing you did – that it's not my fault, but poor Amanda will have to work all weekend to do the analysis.”

“Poor Amanda, my arse. If she needed it Tuesday, knowing his history, she should have been on him for it last Friday. She should have sicced you on him on Monday. She knows what a soft touch you are; she’s using you to make up for her own and Rod’s failures. They had the schedule. Don't do this to yourself.”

“I feel so guilty.”

“For what? For something you couldn't control?”

“I should have made the phone call on Tuesday to check.”

“Don't all your memos go out with 'Call me if I can help.'? Neither of them called. You’re not omniscient.”

“You would have called Amanda on Tuesday.”

“No, I wouldn't. I would have fired that unreliable letch, Rod, months ago. There is someone in the Government who knows the system and doesn't require a babysitter. Traub should know that. Amanda works the weekend; so what? She already had three days off.

“Diana, you’re tired. You’re trying to take care of too many of us. Let me take care of you tonight.” I disentangled myself from her arms and stepped over her leg. “Give me your foot.” I tugged off her boot, lifted Okie to her side on the couch, and pulled off the other boot. I covered them both with a blanket; they were both asleep by the time I stood straight.

I took her hand.  "Does the world look better today?"

I was driving the truck to the training barn with Diana looking distinctly uncomfortable in the passenger seat. Driving a route is the easiest way for me to remember the written directions.

“I should know better by now. I bite off more than I can chew, and when I run into problems, I beat myself up about it. Had you not been at home last night, I would have had that same conversation with myself, but your voice is so much nicer. Then I’d have settled down, made more lists, and gotten back on track.”

When we turned down the drive to the barn, my unasked question on why Diana kept Jack there and not at home was answered. Alice's land dwarfed Diana's holdings. The front paddock was a good 15 acres itself peppered with natural objects to jump. A dressage arena was tucked in one corner; the jumping ring is sandwiched between two of the cross country jumps. Even with all that, there is plenty of room to gallop a horse. The grazing paddocks are cross fenced behind the big tin barn.

“I don't think Alice kept your confidence. Look at all the cars.”

“It's Saturday. Everyone straggles in sooner or later. It looks like they made it sooner. If you look, I’ll bet Reags is here somewhere, though her car would probably be easier to find that she will be. If you'd rather not stay, I'll get out, and you can come back at noon to get me.”

ALICE

Dee has a great book knowledge of riding. She isn’t a naturally talented rider, but she can apply her learning with the slightest suggestion. Her biggest weakness is her physicality; her riding muscles, in the early days, often needed correcting until they remembered where they were supposed to be and how they were supposed to feel.

When she was working at the local defense contractor, her workload was such that she couldn't ride consistently. When she bought Jack, that changed. No matter what time she finished, she was here, riding under the lights if necessary. She applied that book knowledge with a vengeance.

This barn is a small town in and of itself. We are all in each other's pockets. Most of my adult students work for the defense contractor. When Dee left her job with them, I don't know who was happier for her – her co-workers who don't ride, my students, or me. Her ex-boss is legendary as a miserable supervisor.

During the 15 years I've known Dee, she has always impressed me as being happily single. If she wanted to go somewhere, she did. I've never known her to mention a man she was seeing – not once.

To say I was surprised when she approached me to give some guy pointers when she did her full scale tune up for the upcoming eventing season would be an understatement. You could have knocked me over with a driving whip. If she was bringing him out to the barn, the relationship had to be important though all she had told me was that he's Australian.

I saw Dee's truck come across the stream; there were two figures in it. The one driving was definitely not her. She's got broad shoulders, but the bulk gave it away. That he was driving her truck made me believe Dee was truly serious. Dee's fella had come for the practical part of his education. I hope to God he was worth her wait.

They sat in the truck for a few minutes talking. Since most of the women were in the barn tacking up, I took that opportunity to wander down the aisle, finally breaking my promise to Dee not to say anything about the man she brought with her. If I expected any work from my other students today, it would be better that they not be in shock. Reags even seemed surprised. They all took it well; there were several questioning looks but no squeals. All promised not to pounce on the man.

I saw Dee take something from her neck and hand it to him. He leaned towards her, saw me, and stopped. He does have an expressive face; I could almost read, “Aw, fuck it,” or the Australian version of that sentiment. He kissed her with such tenderness before hanging the necklace over the rear view mirror. I smiled and waved as they got out of the truck before hustling the other students out for their warm up.

Everyone exchanged casual greetings; we all would know his name and more via the grapevine within an hour after they left, even if we had to pump Reagan to get it. I mentally checked off what tack needed cleaning or repairing, which horses needed doctoring, and which stalls needed stripping. Since no one would be leaving before Dee, I might as well get some chores caught up with the extra help my students could provide.

“Hi, Alice Buchanan. I'm glad you could make it out today. It's not terribly busy so I can talk you through Dee's ride.”

“Terry Thorne. Nice to meet you,” he volunteered. Good firm handshake, a wonderful, rumbly voice, and a warm, inviting smile.

“Come on out whenever you want. See the trailer there? I'll be near it.”

“I'll help Diana tack up and then join you. I'd like to get to know the other man in her life a little.” From his choice of words, I heard he knew a little about riding. That's a good sign. A better indicator of his feelings was that he considered Jack the “other” man and seemed to have a sense of humor about it.

Dee got her brush box out of her locker and walked down to Jack's stall. I overheard him saying, “That wasn't so bad,” as he grabbed a brush and started working on Jack. A barn full of women can be daunting the first time even for a drop dead, gorgeous, self-confident man.

I looked out to the field. Reags had a rider on each side of her. The pumping had already begun.

Terry had come up so quietly that I hadn't heard him. He knelt down and was fondling Booker's ears with one hand; Dee's jumping saddle hung easily over his other arm with her water jug clasped in his hand below it. It was too late to warn him about the rest of the pack. They took a couple of disinterested sniffs of his legs; they must have smelled Holly and Okie on him. They were all over him for pats until the mailman stopped and distracted them. The dogs think the property must be protected from the Postal Service at all costs, even more important than mauling a newcomer.

“It only looks like chaos out there. While it’s a group lesson, everyone works on their own thing.” I opened the hatch on the trailer. “You can stow the saddle in here. Your arm will start sweating soon.”

I liked his giggle. “Thanks, Love. How do they all keep from running into each other?” He studiously kept his arms at his sides rather than gesturing broadly the way most newcomers do.

“They’ve ridden together for years. Everyone knows Janis doesn't pay attention to anyone else so they steer clear of her. If someone is having a problem, the rest of the class gives way till it gets corrected. Since Dee will be doing a tune up for Kosse, she has the right of way on everything. The brightly colored jumps are set up the way the course designer normally does his stadium. There isn't much I can do to change up the cross country jumps because they're permanent. I'll have Dee jump them in a different order.”

Dee was finishing her walking warm up lap around the pasture. Barb rode past her, and she laughed. Jack was bending pretty nicely, but he looked a little stiff. When I looked up to her back I could see why; she was tense. Maybe she would loosen up during warm up.

“Dee, do some back loosening exercises.” She looked over and grinned. She had already felt it. Her back would hurt badly tonight if she didn't relax now. She moved Jack into a trot and started twisting at the waist; that moved Jack in a nice serpentine. I smiled at the man standing beside me; he was twisting.

“Try not to ride with her. I'm not sure Jack could hold both of you.”

“Right. I've already broken one of her spectator rules. She stretched Jack before and after she saddled him but neglected herself.”

If she was this nervous with Terry watching the practice ride, no wonder she didn't want him to travel with her. I waited until she was relatively close to us to shout, “Dee, drop your stirrups.” She grimaced but followed my orders. I was still watching Dee but spoke to Terry. “That will help her legs stretch out. Dee's already given you the rules lecture? I thought she was leaving that to me.”

Terry gave me a sheepish grin. “I found her file in the computer. I used it as a test when I hooked up the new printer.”

They share a computer? She let him hook up a new piece of hardware? When my husband, Charles, is gone, Dee is my computer guru. Obviously, they’re sharing more than a computer. I will not wonder what else though it will be hard.

Terry cleared his throat. “Alcie, do you mind if I call you that? It's a Strine thing. We shorten nouns and add a ‘y’ or an 'ie.' If that bothers you, how about Coach? I'd like to get your name sorted as it's likely we'll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“You can call me anything except late to supper.” I sighed. Since I blew out my knee and couldn't ride any more, I felt every pound I had packed on.

"Beauty. Glad that's out of the way."

Dee took back her stirrups and asked Jack for a working canter. She was finally starting to let go some – not as much as she could, but it was better. Jack was rolling nicely along and enjoying himself. He kicked up his heels near a jump he does not particularly like; there may be a varmint tucked in the logs somewhere. Dee used his quasi buck to move into a 3-point position and asked Jack for a higher gear. Terry saw him respond.

“How fast are they going now?”

“Only about 275 meters per minute. She won't ask him for speed until she warms him up for cross country. There's no need for him to get excited for the dressage test. It is supposed to be about control and the beauty of the movement. Bucks are not considered beautiful.”

Dee had what she wanted from Jack and brought him back down to a walk so he could catch his breath. Barbara vacated the dressage ring and brought Major to the side to watch. It's pretty special for one of our own to be doing an entire eventing season. We have high hopes for Dee and Jack.

Dee walked over to us, and Jack started looking for treats. Terry walked to her leg and handed her the water jug. Either she had started teaching Terry about horses, or he came fully trained. He had walked far enough back that he was out of Jack's peripheral vision and had kept the jug in front of his body as he lifted it. Horses can be very flighty if startled. In a horse's mind, lifting a jug of water is a scary proposition.

“Ready?” I asked Dee.

“Ready.” Terry gave her a nod, took back the water jug, and lifted his hand from her boot covered calf.

Diana had the test memorized. This would be the first time Jack will have combined these movements in precisely this order. If horses are drilled on the exact test too often, they begin anticipating the changes. Dee is the brains of the operation; Jack is the willing brawn.

Jack's ears were pricked forward, and he looked alert. As they entered the ring, he cocked his right ear back; he was feeling Dee's aids and 'listening' to them. The diagonal was dead on. The circles were a little small, but that is a common fault with a horse who is ready to move up a level. Dee's grimace in the first circle showed me that she knew it was small. The first canter depart was a little ragged, but it was on Jack's stiff side. Dee sat right down on him, and a blind man could see the aid to canter. Not elegant, but Jack will be working on that canter depart next week. Part of Jack's problem is Dee's stiffness. The trot work was fine but not as light as Jack can be.

Dee was puffing when she walked to us. “How'd you like the ovals? I couldn't see the points.” The points of the circle are not actually marked, but riders develop an ability to 'see' where the turning points should be.

“Try lightening up on the bend, and that should fix the circles. Try some shoulders in next week so he stays flexible and doesn't get bored with nine million canters. Lighten you seat on the trot. He carried himself very well though. Not brilliant, but decent.” Terry observed our conversation as if we were speaking a foreign language. I suppose riding is a language of its own.

Diana hopped off Jack with a pat to his neck and tied his reins to the trailer. After taking off his dressage saddle, she offered him a drink which he gladly took. “No treats right now, Big Boy. After cross country.”

With the words 'cross country' Jack's whole attitude changed. He perked up; his eyes showed more interest.

“I swear, Jack's motto ought to be Dressage hell; let's jump something!” Diana volunteered as she rubbed the sweat off him before putting the Stubben on him.

Barb piped up with, “Dressage, slightly more entertaining than watching paint dry!”

When Diana started her dressage ride, I lost control of the lesson as I knew I would. It was break time, more for the riders than the horses. I checked to see how Terry was faring. “Have you been around horses much?”

“I hilltopped on a very placid mount when I was stationed in England, and I feed Diana's horses on occasion.” Dee gave him a grateful look before tightening Jack's girth one more hole.

“I don't want to do that again. I didn't get his girth tight enough one time, and when I dismounted, the saddle slid under his belly. Jack was wondering if this was something new we were going to try. He was not in favor of it.” Diana started stretching out Jack's left front leg to assure no folds of his skin were trapped under his girth. When Diana finished, Terry stretched Jack's right leg and then ran his hand under the girth.

The true surprise occurred when Terry checked Jack's feet for stones. He ran his hand down Jack's leg, and Jack picked his foot up for Terry. He easily held Jack's hoof in one hand. That isn't all that unusual; we do it every day. What was unusual was the size of his hand. Jack's hoof looked positively dainty in it. He found a stone stuck in Jack's frog and tried picking it out with his fingers. When it didn't dislodge, he straightened and fished a hoof pick out of his back pocket. He slid the pick under the stone, flipped it out, picked up the offending stone, and put it in his pocket. He held the hoof pick up. “Anybody else up for a check?” That was the moment that the barn fell in love with Terry Thorne.

Dee took a swig of water, buckled on her chest protector, refastened her helmet, and hopped on Jack. Does she not know what a gem of man she has there? Her cheeks were flushed; there was no weather related reason for that. Yeah, she knows.

Her cross country ride went very well. Jack jumped several out of stride; he's rarin' to go. Dee did the whole course at 350 meters per minute. The two of them are a thing of beauty as they approach a jump; Dee balances Jack well out from the jump, makes sure he sees it, and lets him do his job. Her form is not perfect, but her legs are so sure.

The barn may have fallen in love with Terry, and he may flirt. I think he flirts like the rest of us breathe; it comes naturally to him – an ingrained charm. Even when he was cleaning Jack's feet, he kept up a running, funny commentary to all of us. Yet the way he watches Dee ride, there is no doubt in my mind that Dee does not have any reason to worry about the flirting. Terry's eyes danced as he watched Dee. I just realized that he doesn’t call her Dee …he calls her Diana.

One of the cross country jumps was pretty technical; Dee had to get Jack carrying his weight on his hindquarters in order to get over the fence. When she balanced him, it was as if time slowed down, and they were in slow motion. To an inexperienced eye, it appeared they were having a problem.

“They're fine. It's a bigger jump than they'll face,” I reassured Terry.

Once they were clear and galloping away, he released his breath. “I can see why one of the rules is not to stand in the trail. They are moving! It must seem even faster when you are riding.”

“It is. I know Dee intends to make up time across one of the pastures at Kosse because she has to take the water slowly. You haven't seen them go that fast yet. Jack settles down pretty well here, but at an event, all bets are off. He may stay fast all the way through.

“I know Dee has asked you not to go with her. Her nerves show in the way she rode the dressage test. If she knew you were there, she would be that nervous during cross country. Imagine those same nerves at that speed. It would be dangerous for her and for Jack.

“If I haven't changed your mind about going, please listen as carefully to this as you did to the dressage analysis. You can see the dressage ring from the corner of Barn 4. At Kosse, there is a hill outside the competition area. From there you can see the start and finish and three or four of the jumps on cross country. You won't see the water, but you will hear when she goes through. The competitors can't see you. For stadium, the bleachers are open in the back. Because of my bum knee, I can't climb the stairs. Most of the time I find friends already seated; they save me a seat next to them. I watch stadium with my head poking out from the rows. I normally have at least a few nervous family members under there with me.” It was hard to gauge his reaction as both of us were watching Dee and Jack during the conversation.

“Alcie, before today, I was going, just not with her. I wasn't going to let her know. She probably invited me along today to teach me about what she does and, more importantly, to convince me not to go. It will be Hell staying home, but with Max and Reags along, she'll be fine. I wonder how I will do.”

“It's always harder on those not riding. Follow her lead. If her nerves get worse, don't go.”

As they cleared the last fence and came down to a trot, Terry put his hand on my arm. “Thanks, Coach.”

NOTES

Coggins	An equine disease that has no known cure. Each horse who is entered in a show must have been tested for the disease and have a negative veterinarian report within at least the prior 12 months.
Kosse	A town in Central Texas where Meadow Creek Horse Trials are held.
Speed conversion	350 meters per minute equates to 13 miles per hour
Serpentine	Half circles linked together to travel in a single direction
3-point	A rider's position in the saddle. The rider's seat lightly brushes the saddle and the lower leg is applied to the horse's sides.
Shoulders in	Plural of 'Shoulder in.' Just like people, horses are naturally more comfortable with either their right or left sides. Their uncomfortable side is called their 'stiff' side. A shoulder in away from that side can loosen the muscles along the rib cage on that side. A shoulder in has the horse's front bent inwards from his hindquarters.
Aids	A rider's way of communicating to the horse the rider's wishes. Hands, seat, legs, voice and body movement are the rider's natural aids. Whips and spurs are considered artificial aids. In a dressage test, the rider is not permitted to use her voice.
Stubben	A brand of saddle, best known for their jumping saddles.