Leopard's Kin
She nodded and bit her lip. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, tugging on his jacket sleeve. “This is hard work!”
He chuckled and took the catalogue from her. “What’s next?”
“Well, after that last horse, I’m not sure if I should even look at this one, but....” She leaned in close to him to see the catalogue on his lap and he got a soft whiff of her hair. He subtly closed his eyes and sent up his own statement of gratitude while she paged through the brochure.
“Here, this one,” she said for only his ears to hear. “She’s gorgeous – I saw her earlier when we were looking around. But she’s short, stocky and the perfect size for western pleasure, reining, or kids events. Plus, I think she’d be an excellent ‘gamer’ – doing barrels, keyhole, pole-bending – that kind of stuff. Her bloodlines are excellent and she’s still young. I think she’s going to go for a lot of money.”
“Hey,” Noel said with a slight edge to his voice. “Don’t talk yourself out of it. What you believe you create.”
He could see she wasn’t confident again and in a moment of inspiration, grabbed her arm and stood up.
“What are you doing?” she asked in confusion, standing up next to him.
“C’mon,” he insisted. “Let’s go see the mare – you need to find your motivation again.”
Lori trailed along next to him, not seeming to mind that he still had hold of her wrist, but he didn’t know where he was going and so asked her to lead the way.
She brought him to the holding pen where the mare was kept and he guided her up to the gate. He stood directly behind her, close enough to feel her heat against his chest.
“Now, think,” Noel directed in her left ear. “How are you going to start her training?”
Lori answered automatically. “Roundpen, of course – they all get started in the roundpen.”
“And how do you think she’ll respond to that?”
“Well, looking at her calm eye, I think she would probably – ”
“Ah-ah,” Noel corrected her. “She is going to be...”
He felt Lori take a deep breath and start again. “She is going to be quiet – not like Curtis’ colt. I’ll be able to get her turning in to me on the first session and desensitizing will be easier with her, too.”
“Good,” he said, daring to put a hand on her shoulder and give her a soft squeeze of encouragement. “And when will you start riding her?”
Lori looked at the mare for a few moments, considering. “She should probably – I mean, she is going to be ready for a saddle by the start of the second week.”
“And will you groom her every day?”
“Yes, all the horses get groomed daily.”
“And what will that feel like? Imagine what brushes you’ll use on her, where her ticklish spots are. Is her skin sensitive or is she dull? She’s got a long, full mane – how will that feel when you run your fingers through it? How will she give her foot to you when you try to pick her hooves?”
Noel continued on, bringing the experience to life for Lori, knowing that if she could do those things – even in her imagination – it would help her to create it. When he felt the shift in her from bleak hopelessness to possibility, he asked her to go one more place with him.
He took her by the hand this time and led her back to the grey gelding. Again, he parked her in front of the pen gate and stood behind her.
“Look at him, Lori – really look at him. He is yours. You created the experience whereby you own him. You did this!” he encouraged, shaking her lightly by the shoulders. “So don’t tell me you can’t buy the bay mare – you’ve already proven that you can!”
**********
Lori felt nauseous as the bay mare was ridden into the ring – she wasn’t sure if it was from excitement, adrenaline, or fear. Noel’s pep talk had her believing this was within the realm of possibility, but there was still that niggling fear in the back of her mind that said this horse was beyond her reach. Knowing that such thoughts were lethal to her dream, she kept pushing them away, envisioning instead the mare in her barn, nosing up to the grey or trotting circles around her on the lunge line.
She took a deep breath as the auctioneer finished his description of the mare’s features, blowing it out in a huge exhale as he opened the bidding. It was high, of course, but nobody agreed to the opening suggestion and she waited until a few other people had begun at a more reasonable bid before jumping into the competition herself.
She tried to ignore the horse’s flawless gait as it trotted around the ring, back and forth in front of her, the rider steering the mare with some difficulty towards the multitude of people hanging near the rails. That was a good sign to Lori – the less control the rider had over the horse, the better. It would discourage people from bidding on the horse if they thought she was a handful.
The bid had jumped another hundred dollars and the auctioneer’s helper in front of Lori pointed her way. Would she offer another hundred? She nodded, making eye contact with the helper then looked again at the horse. She did another quick scan of the mare’s legs; she didn’t seem to be making any missteps, her head wasn’t bobbing up and down – another sign of lameness issues or chronic pain – and she had a nice heel-toe landing in the sand of the ring. All that reassured Lori that this was a good prospect, but some of the people she was bidding against would also know this was a find and would keep bidding.
Two other people shouted out bids and suddenly the assistant was checking to see if she’d go up another $200 from her last offer. She nodded, reluctantly, knowing she’d only have a few more offers in her before the mare would be out of reach. She could feel Noel next to her and reminded herself to keep breathing. Her heart was pounding like mad and she could feel fear starting to inch up her spine as the auctioneer continued his loud, steady drone of numbers in the enclosed space.
All eyes were on her as the bidding came back to her – another hundred; would she accept? Things were escalating too quickly and Lori forced herself to calm down. She could feel the blood pounding in her temples and the fear snaking a few more inches up her vertebrae as they reached nearer to her threshold.
“Half,” she called to the auctioneer’s helper. Maybe by jumping $50 instead of $100 she would slow down the bidding.
Two of the other bidders dropped out at that point and Lori realized she was bidding against one other man across the arena. She knew him by sight – he’d been to many of these auctions and had deep pockets, bringing home strings of “ponies” to resell off his farm. He jumped it a full $150 and Lori closed her eyes briefly, deflated. When she opened them Noel was looking at her.
“You can make this happen,” he said quietly as the auctioneer continued to babble on.
She gave a small nod to Noel and a larger one to the helper, confirming the bid of another hundred dollars. This was it; she might have one more bid in her, but then she’d have to let the mare go.
The auctioneer had his attention focused on her rival across the ring and Lori felt panic settle in as she saw the mare slipping out of her grasp. In reflex, she clenched her fingers around the mangled catalogue in her lap and sent up a silent prayer. Help me, she breathed.
She heard her competition up the bid by another $50 and all eyes came back to her. This was it, she knew – she would agree to $50 more and then she’d have to stop. Lori closed her eyes for a split second and envisioned the auctioneer saying “Sold! To the lady holding number 57!” When she opened them she nodded to the assistant and claimed the bid one final time, letting out a huge exhale of air as she did so.
And then a miracle happened. Somebody in the stands to her right stood up in order to leave the arena and began shaking out a bright white blanket they’d been sitting on. The mare, who was being guided with more and more difficulty around the ring, balked in dramatic fashion when the blanket started flapping and soon she was doing a mini impression of a bucking bronco a
round the ring.
Members of the crowd who were close to the horse gasped in shock, standing up and trying to get away from the bellowing horse as the mare bucked in blind fear. The rider managed to stay on for the first few leaps around the arena, but then the horse began kicking out with her back legs, as well, and on one unexpected change of direction, sent the hapless passenger sailing across the arena.
More cries of alarm and gasps came from the crowd and a thrill of fear went through the assembly as the very real danger of the mare climbing through the stands took hold. Mercifully, in the nick of time, one of the auctioneer’s helpers managed to grab hold of a trailing rein and bring the mare under control again. When others saw that, they sprang to action, checking on the rider who was standing and spitting dirt. Soon everyone was settled again and those nearest to the action resumed their seats.
The mare was blowing hard through her nostrils, clearly still frightened and seeking some reassurance that the blanket wasn’t going to eat her. The rider came over and patted the mare, saying a few soft words of comfort, but declined to get back on. Instead, the auction resumed with a quieter auctioneer directing his attention to Lori’s rival and a keyed-up, sweaty horse being led around the arena. She was prancing, flipping her head in irritation, jumping away from her handler and generally looking unmanageable. Lori firmly suppressed a smile.
She knew the mare’s behaviour would easily be rectified by a few days of desensitizing and training; she also knew that the man bidding against her wouldn’t want to put in that kind of time or training. He focused on quick turn-around times with the horses he purchased.
It came as no surprise to her, then, when he declined to jump even another $25 and after scanning the crowd and calling once...twice...the auctioneer banged down his gavel and did say, “Sold to number 57!”
In her joy, Lori realized that she had jumped to her feet and Noel was standing beside her, as well.
“She’s mine!” she bubbled over with delight, sending a beaming smile at Noel.
“You did it!” he celebrated with her. Then he opened his arms and she practically bounded into them with happiness.
**********
They lingered at the outdoor arena gate for awhile as the sun was getting lower on the horizon, watching the bay mare and grey gelding settle into their new surroundings.
“I guess I should get the others in from their pastures before it gets dark,” Lori said but she remained at the fence rail, not willing to let this happiness be replaced with the boring routine of chores.
Bear had come over to roll around at Noel’s feet and he squatted down to comply with the demands for a belly rub. The fringe on his jacket was too much for the brown tabby to resist, though, and the tom alternated between batting at it and rolling over for more caresses.
Lori watched them silently, feeling that utter sense of contentment that washed over her whenever Noel was around. She wasn’t sure when she would see him again; she thought it best to savour the moment.
“Thanks for coming along today, Noel. And for the pep talk,” she added with a grin. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
He looked up at her and smiled back. “Of course you could. And now that you have some of the techniques down, you’ll be able to do it a lot more without coaching.”
She looked back at the mare and gelding who were nosing around the arena, checking out all the new scents, and shrugged one shoulder. “I’m just happy with everything that I’ve got on the property right now. I love my two horses, I’ve got two clients’ horses that are earning me money and I found two great horses today that should bring a fair bit of money when I sell them in a few months.”
Noel gave Bear a final scratch behind the ears and stood up, moving to stand next to Lori at the fence again.
She turned to look at him, leaning against the rail as she did so. “You know, Noel...I think that’s the first time I’ve been able to say that I was truly happy since Cody died.” She shook her head, thinking back on the past four months. “It’s been such a struggle.”
He cocked his head, studying her, and the brim of his hat hid one eye from her view. “Well, if you can...take something from that, Lori. What you created today you can create every day. It doesn’t have to be a struggle unless you view it that way. Remember, if you think that it’s hard and you say that it’s hard, you’re going to make it hard.”
“Well, I’m sorry...but losing a spouse is never easy. You can think and say differently, but it’s not.”
Noel reached out and pulled a splinter off the rail, fiddling with it as he said his next words. “You’ve been around enough animals, I’m sure, to know that they mourn their mates or friends, too. But they don’t dwell on it – that’s the important difference. They acknowledge the loss – and I agree, it is painful to feel that absence – but they get over it much more quickly than most humans do.”
Lori cleared her throat. “Why is that, do you think?”
Noel looked at her and gave her a gentle smile. “Maybe because they know death isn’t permanent. Maybe because they can see – or feel – the presence of their companion when we can’t. Maybe because they’re too ignorant as animals to carry those memories for longer than a few days.”
Noel flicked the splinter into the grass near where he was standing. “Take your pick,” he said. “Why did you eventually stop grieving?”
Lori guarded her expression, not wanting to get emotional now. She looked down, though, knowing exactly why she did. “Because I realized it wouldn’t bring him back,” she said softly, suppressing the tears. “I realized it was...pointless.”
“Mmm,” Noel confirmed. “Well, maybe animals just know that a lot better than we do.”
Chapter 15
Perhaps it was because Lori and Noel had such a poignant discussion about Cody and grieving that she remembered the night before he died. Perhaps it was because the kittens were demonstrating the same odd behaviour several days after the auction. For late October the weather had been unseasonably warm and Lori had taken advantage of the fresh air to work Rick’s mare in the outdoor arena before saddling up Piper and going for their much-anticipated rides around the property. She planned to do them as long as she could, knowing that when the winter hit in full force the snow would be too deep to ask the Quarter Horse to struggle walking through the drifts.
With two more horses on the property now, Lori was discovering her days were tremendously full; between the cleaning of stalls and the training, she was now finding it difficult to cram everything into the shortening daylight hours so she ate a granola bar at breakfast between stall-mucking, grabbed a sandwich at lunch between training sessions and then would work straight through until the sun went down, only then coming into the house and fixing a quick supper of macaroni-and-cheese, scrambled eggs, or soup.
Tonight, she practically crawled her way up the back stairs and into the house, deciding she was too exhausted to do more than pop a frozen dinner into the microwave. She noticed it immediately: the kittens wouldn’t leave her alone. While they had certainly been more protective of her since Cody died and spent their nights on the bed with her, rarely did they cling to her feet as she walked to the kitchen like they did this evening. And when she sat down on the couch, stirring her pre-fab spaghetti and meatballs, they both lied down next to her on the sofa, their small furry bodies each pressed to a hip.
“Okay, you two,” she stated, looking down at them in bemusement, “You’re freaking me out.”
Leia gave her a quiet look, full of concern, and stretched out a paw to gently place on her thigh. That gesture triggered a host of memories for Lori – Luke had done the same thing the night before Cody died. She remembered him placing his paw across her lips – the oddity of the gesture was burned into her memory to rekindle five months later. For the other kitten to be doing it now raised all the hair on the back of her neck and Lori gingerly placed her supper on the coff
ee table in front of her then extricated herself from the kittens and went to the phone.
When they followed her, looking up at her with intelligent eyes as she lifted the receiver, she swallowed thickly and dialled Jeret’s number.
He answered with that reassuring deep voice and she let out her breath with a rush.
“Hi Jeret,” she said with relief. “Is Noel there?”
“He is, yeah,” Jeret affirmed. “But he’s in the shower right now. Can I have him call you back? Or is it something I can pass along to him? He should only be a few more minutes.”
“Oh...well...I just had something strange happen and I’m a little weirded out. The kittens are acting very bizarre. Anything happening at the zoo with the cats there?”
“No – nothing odder than what’s been happening recently, anyway. Your Min is still only eating enough to get by and a lot of the tigers, lions and leopards are pacing more than usual, but they’ve been doing that for months. Why? What are the kittens doing?”
“Well, they won’t leave me alone tonight – they’re, like, glued to me. And I had forgotten this until just now but they acted the same way the night before Cody died. I just wanted to make sure you guys were okay.”
“Hmm,” Jeret responded. “That sounds a little ominous. Let me see if I can hurry Noel along.”
She heard Jeret put down the phone and then his footsteps retreated, the steady pad of his feet echoed a few moments later by his knocking on the bathroom door. A brief, unwanted, and appallingly intimate image of Noel in the shower flashed before Lori’s eyes while she waited and she shook her head in embarrassment. She was not attracted to the man that way. And besides, Cody had only been gone five months – what was wrong with her?
She heard Jeret’s deep murmur as he filled Noel in on their conversation, then more footsteps sounded as Noel came to the phone.
“Hi Lori,” he started. “Jeret’s told me about the kittens. Is everything okay there?”
“Here, yes,” she answered. “I’m just worried about you guys – the last time this happened it was when Cody died. I know it sounds crazy, but do you think they were trying to warn me?”