Chapter 15The creak of saddle leather was always music to his ears. As soon as he could get away from the barn, only one lesson left for the late afternoon, Westley saddled up his black gelding, Jazzman, and took to the trails. Having purchased what used to be an old farmstead along the outskirts of a state park he, as well as his boarders and students, benefited from miles of trails. As long as they, and others who used them, helped maintain them. A few years ago some teens on four wheelers had left deep ruts along one portion, having thought it a good idea to head out while it was raining. Complaints came quickly, especially after a jogger twisted her ankle.
Westley relaxed, loosening his reins and letting Jazzman have his head. The gelding had participated in his fair share of shows, m
