The Heartbreak Horse

Because She's a Damn Head Case.

Even though I tried to convince her to get some rest, Kate comes to Bray at eight the next morning to feed the horses. I’m just stumbling out of bed at that time, and by the time I reach the barn, she’s already refilling feed buckets for dinner.

“Kate,” I say tiredly. “You broke your leg yesterday.”

“Oh whatever.” She waves a hand. “I feel fine, and anyway, I wanted to make sure Mirage gets ridden today. He shouldn’t have the mindset that throwing me means time off.”

I agree with that. “Good idea.”

“So, did you talk to her—this Riley girl?”

I nod. “I… think she’s coming.”

Kate looks amused. “Do you know when?”

“No,” I admit. “But if she doesn’t get here by noon, I’ll call her. And if she won’t come, I’ll ride. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she assures me.

I help her with water and hay, despite her protests, before I put the horses out. Once I do, we both sit and watch Heartbreak. I’ll clean the stalls later.

“Hey Joey?” Kate asks after a while.

“Yeah?”

“You love riding Mirage. I mean, you love off-the-track Thoroughbreds. That’s why you bought Heartbreak. Right?”

“Right.” Most people in the hunter/jumper world would disagree with me; they think of OTTB’s as last resorts for people who don’t have enough money for warmbloods. OTTB’s are too fast, too spooky, and too energetic. But warmbloods don’t have their spirit—their fire. Why does that not matter to so many people?

“So why did you tell me to use this girl? I mean, sure, she seemed nice enough—called that med student for me, and all. But Cyan says she’s a real b***h, even to you. Why give up the chance to ride Mirage at all, let alone for someone like that?”

I shrug. “It’s better for Mirage, which means it’s better for you. It’s good for Riley. Why not?”

“What about what’s good for you?”

Who cares? What’s her point? “You broke your leg. Your horse needs training. Riley is a mess. You all need help. I don’t. I’m fine.”

Kate smiles softly. “It’s like you can’t even grasp the concept of selfishness.”

I don’t really know what to say, but it’s okay, because at that moment, Riley pulls up in the Porsche.

“Oh my God,” Kate breathes. I just shook my head.

She isn’t wearing riding breeches, probably because all her old ones are about ten sizes too big. She’s wearing jeans with boots and half chaps, just like Val wears.

I can’t read her expression, because I can’t see her face; she’s watching Heartbreak. He was only trotting before she arrived, but when he sees her staring, he starts running again.

I expect her to keep coming down the hill, but she doesn’t. Instead, she ducks through a triangle in the fence and steps into his paddock. I shoot out of my seat as abruptly as the horse seems to shoot a mile into the air.

“Riles!” I shout. “Don’t be stupid!”

But she’s ignoring me. She takes a few more steps toward him. In my peripheral, I see the Infiniti pull up, but I don’t have time to think about Val. Heartbreak is going crazy, tearing up the pasture more than ever, and Riley is just standing there.

And suddenly he’s running straight at her.

“Riley!” I plead, wanting to go help her, but I feel paralyzed, and he’s moving so fast, and she’s just standing there.

And then he’s two feet away, and then one.

And then he stops.

I have to close my eyes and open them again, but they haven’t failed me. He stopped.

None of us dare to speak. He and Riley just stand there, staring at each other, almost eye to eye. His chest is heaving, but she looks perfectly calm. He’s glaring, but she’s just staring. She’s inches away from him.

Val slams her car door closed.

He flinches, but doesn’t move. I nearly die.

“What,” Val shouts, “is she doing here?”

He isn’t looking at Riley anymore, and I know it’s only a matter of seconds before he runs. If she were anyone else, he already would have, but she’s whispering to him, and it almost seems to sedate him.

“Hey, b***h,” Val shouts at her. “You’re not welcome here.”

And then she claps.

He shoots off again, and it’s by sheer luck Riley doesn’t get trampled.

Fuming, Riley comes over to Val at the fence, stares at her for a second, and then slaps her. 

Val screams as if she’s just been sucker-punched.

“I’d have punched you,” Riley informs her with a voice that could cut glass, “if you were even worth the sweat. If I ever see you endanger someone working with that horse again, I will punch your giant, ugly nose into your tiny, little skull. Understand?”

It’s so bizarre, seeing her threaten Val after seeing such a peaceful display between her and Heartbreak. People have clearly screwed her up, but horses haven’t. There was nothing but trust in her eyes when Heartbreak ran up to her—a horse she didn’t even know.

Val just sort of whimpers for a minute or so, clutching her face, until finally she manages to stutter, “Y-y-you’re crazy!”

Riley’s eyes are more wild than I could’ve imagined, ablaze with passion without the faintest tease of reality. “I’m a damn head case, so don’t f**k with me.” 

And with that, she strides confidently over to us and asks Kate, “How high does your horse jump?”