"Fuck," Elizabeth yelled as she leapt back. Pronto snorted indignantly, and gave another warning kick into the empty space behind him. Her fist clenched around the hoof pick until it quivered. "Just stand still, you stupid bastard!" She took a step toward the big black's hind quarters, but Pronto bucked and spun in his stall to keep her where he could see her. Elizabeth lashed out, her open palm landing flat and hard against his shoulder.
"Whoa," Betsy hollered from a few stalls down. "Just... whoa." Elizabeth fumed as she heard a stall door slide open and shut. "Come on outta there, Liz." Elizabeth stared daggers at her stallion as she stepped out into the aisle. "Hon, you can't hit the horse," she said flatly. Elizabeth took a deep breath and turned to point at the problem, but Betsy cut her off. "I know, I know. He's a stubborn sonuva bitch. But
you knew that
," she said, pointing at Elizabeth. "I told you that before you went 'n bought him."
"I know," Elizabeth said testily. "But he won't-"
"He won't listen, I know. Won't listen to me either." Betsy smirked and shook her head. "I gotta fight him for everything. Only one he'll listen to is Isabella. Damn kid's a natural." Pronto stared at her through the bars of his stall, and Elizabeth felt her blood pressure rising. "No, ok, see what yer doin' right now? Yer gettin' ready to go back in there and
battle
him."
Elizabeth threw up her arms in frustration. "I thought you said I wasn't supposed to let him win because of his
long memory
!" she shouted.
"Yeah, but, Hon, he's a horse. He weighs 1200 lbs. You can't go in there and expect to out-muscle a horse, see?" Betsy grinned and took Elizabeth by the shoulder. "Come on. Let's walk it off. He needs to cool down too."
Elizabeth shook her head incredulously as she walked. "How was I better at this as a kid?"
"You have any kids'a yer own, Liz?" Elizabeth frowned and shook her head. "Kids're great. You know what they're thinkin' about when they play tag?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, fearing it was a trick question but not seeing how that could be. "Tag. 'at's it. When they take care of a horse, ya see, all they're thinkin' about is takin' care of the horse. Now, you get an adult to play tag, an' they're thinkin' about... tag, and work, and I have that dentist appointment next week, and the tires'r gettin' a little thin on tread on the minivan. Ya see what I'm sayin'? Kids're
pure of purpose
, is how I like to put it, and I 'spect yer head is somewheres else right now."
They stepped out of the back of the small barn, and both women raised their hands to shield their eyes from the afternoon sun. Out in the field, Isabella was riding her big gelding through a slalom of barrels. "It doesn't hurt," Elizabeth said, "that she probably has two cartoon mice helping her get dressed in the morning."
"Aha!" Betsy shouted, turning toward the taller woman. "
Aha!
See? See what you just did?" Elizabeth frowned and shook her head. "Yer mad at the girl cus, what, you think she's prettier'n you? Yer mad at the horse cus he's bigger'n tougher'n you are? You can't control that stuff."
"So what are you telling me," Elizabeth barked testily.
"Look, you gotta clean his hooves, right? So how're you gonna get him to do what you want?" Again, Elizabeth paused, fearing a trick question. "You gotta be smarter'n the horse, hon. So use that big brain of yers and figure out how yer gonna get'm to do what ya want!" Betsy smirked as she popped a cigarette out of her pack and reached for her lighter. "It ain't rocket surgery."
***
The sound of Velvet's unlocked stall door sliding open was faint, but clear. Ms. Winters bit her lip in anticipation. The heavy wooden door rattled. Twice. The deadbolt was secure. The older woman licked her lips and stifled a moan. Quiet. Very quiet. The hinge on the door at the bottom of the steps gave a slow creak, and Ms. Winters almost couldn't take it anymore. Her pony was taking a very long time tonight.
Finally, the door next to her opened, and Velvet crept through. Ms. Winters held her breath, letting the scene play out before her. Velvet slowed to a stop and stood in shock, getting her first real look at the playroom since arriving. The steel haired woman watched the mare's shoulders sag, and then jerk slightly with a sob. As the lightheadedness set in, Ms. Winters slammed the door shut hard, and Velvet whirled with a scream.
"So nice of you to join me, Velvet," she said, taking a step toward the shrinking mare with her arms held behind her.
"No!"
"You saved me the trouble of having to get you myself, and I appreciate that."
"
No!
" Velvet backed away between the matched floor-and-ceiling spreader bars and the workhorse.
"Now, I had my heart set on a good spanking tonight," Ms. Winters said with a grin, as Velvet bounced off the cross and ran for the door. "That's locked too, Velvet."
"
Nooo!
" the mare sobbed, shaking the door handle vigorously.
"What I want is to see your ass
reeeeaaally
pink tonight, Velvet," she said, "but I will settle for bruised and purple." She moved her hands around to her front, revealing the cane she'd been hiding behind her thigh, and tapped it against her other palm. "And possibly a little bloody." Velvet slumped against the door, too exhausted after her day of running to do much more, and whimpered. "Which will it be, Velvet? Spanking or caning?"
Be smarter'n the horse,
Betsy had said. "I want to hear you say it."