Equine Dressage Center, waiting for Jaime Cabot to finish cooling out her horse so Jess could have a better look around.
"I don't know what good you think this is gonna do," she muttered, once again, to Eric, while Jess waited between them and stood very tall, drinking in the scents and sounds of the stable.
Eric, once again, shrugged. "She says she's a horse. This'll give her a chance to see, well, that she can't possibly be."
"If it was that easy, someone would have straightened her out long ago."
Another shrug. "Maybe Jaime can talk some sense into her. Anyway, she knows a lot more about horses than we do."
That was true enough. Jaime competed in the upper echelons of dressage and could swap horse jargon with the best of them. "It's pointless," Dayna intoned, crossing her arms. She leaned against the plank wood wall and stared sourly at Jess' tall straight back. Her choppy hair was more evident from this vantage; although the front strands fell just short of her shoulders, there were also coarse lengths that fell unevenly to the middle of her back. And though Dayna had classified the odd color as similar to dark wet sand, there seemed to be some kind of darkened stripe running through the middle of the unparted mess.
Jaime, a short woman who was dwarfed by a tall young Hanoverian, led the animal to its stall at the far end of the aisle and hauled the heavy stall door closed behind it. She twitched the end of her long dark braid behind her shoulder and came to meet them, looping the lead rope around her hand. "Hey, guys, what's up?" she asked cheerfully.
"We found a friend who's . . . interested in horses," Eric said, casting Dayna a glance as he spoke up before she had the chance. "Jaime, this is Jess. Think she could look around?"
"Sure," Jaime said. "Just let me turn Silhouette into the ring first." A few minutes was all it took to turn the stalled mare loose in the indoor arena at the end of the aisle. Dayna glanced at her watch, a distinct message to Eric that she was not about to show up late for work because of this futile venture.
Jaime took them on a stall-to-stall tour, telling Jess a little about each of the horses—boarders, competition horses, retirees. Jess was a bundle of curiosity and intensity and movement, greeting each animal with an exchange of puffing breaths—and, for two of the horses, squeals of annoyance. Jaime's expression changed from curious to poker-faced; when they reached the end of the aisle they left Jess leaning on the arena gate, watching Silhouette play, while Jaime led Eric and Dayna to the opposite end of the stable.
"Who the hell is this woman?" Jaime asked bluntly. "She's damn odd, I can see that much for myself."
"Dun Lady's Jess," Eric said, and offered a smile.
Jaime's hazel eyes narrowed. "That's a horse name, not a woman's."
"Exactly," Dayna said, staring hard at Eric. "That's the problem."
"Come on, you two. I don't know what you're up to, but as long as you brought it here, you might as well let me in on it."
"Both barrels," Dayna warned her. "We found her at Highbanks yesterday. She was naked and scared to death; she had a saddle and bridle with her. She doesn't know much English, or much of anything else for that matter, but she did manage to tell us that she's a horse."
Jaime gave a snort of laughter, but her amusement died away when they didn't laugh along with her. She looked at Eric for confirmation and he gave an apologetic shrug. "Well," Jaime said, her voice too level, "she does have the coloring of a dun."
Dayna was momentarily speechless, until Jaime smirked; she smacked the equestrian on the arm. "Not funny."
Jaime's smile faded only slowly. "What else do you want me to say?"
"We were sort of hoping that just being here would knock some sense back into her," Eric said, looking over both women's heads to the ring, where Jess now frolicked along with the frisky mare. As if inexorably drawn to the sight, the three silently moved down the
"I don't know what good you think this is gonna do," she muttered, once again, to Eric, while Jess waited between them and stood very tall, drinking in the scents and sounds of the stable.
Eric, once again, shrugged. "She says she's a horse. This'll give her a chance to see, well, that she can't possibly be."
"If it was that easy, someone would have straightened her out long ago."
Another shrug. "Maybe Jaime can talk some sense into her. Anyway, she knows a lot more about horses than we do."
That was true enough. Jaime competed in the upper echelons of dressage and could swap horse jargon with the best of them. "It's pointless," Dayna intoned, crossing her arms. She leaned against the plank wood wall and stared sourly at Jess' tall straight back. Her choppy hair was more evident from this vantage; although the front strands fell just short of her shoulders, there were also coarse lengths that fell unevenly to the middle of her back. And though Dayna had classified the odd color as similar to dark wet sand, there seemed to be some kind of darkened stripe running through the middle of the unparted mess.
Jaime, a short woman who was dwarfed by a tall young Hanoverian, led the animal to its stall at the far end of the aisle and hauled the heavy stall door closed behind it. She twitched the end of her long dark braid behind her shoulder and came to meet them, looping the lead rope around her hand. "Hey, guys, what's up?" she asked cheerfully.
"We found a friend who's . . . interested in horses," Eric said, casting Dayna a glance as he spoke up before she had the chance. "Jaime, this is Jess. Think she could look around?"
"Sure," Jaime said. "Just let me turn Silhouette into the ring first." A few minutes was all it took to turn the stalled mare loose in the indoor arena at the end of the aisle. Dayna glanced at her watch, a distinct message to Eric that she was not about to show up late for work because of this futile venture.
Jaime took them on a stall-to-stall tour, telling Jess a little about each of the horses—boarders, competition horses, retirees. Jess was a bundle of curiosity and intensity and movement, greeting each animal with an exchange of puffing breaths—and, for two of the horses, squeals of annoyance. Jaime's expression changed from curious to poker-faced; when they reached the end of the aisle they left Jess leaning on the arena gate, watching Silhouette play, while Jaime led Eric and Dayna to the opposite end of the stable.
"Who the hell is this woman?" Jaime asked bluntly. "She's damn odd, I can see that much for myself."
"Dun Lady's Jess," Eric said, and offered a smile.
Jaime's hazel eyes narrowed. "That's a horse name, not a woman's."
"Exactly," Dayna said, staring hard at Eric. "That's the problem."
"Come on, you two. I don't know what you're up to, but as long as you brought it here, you might as well let me in on it."
"Both barrels," Dayna warned her. "We found her at Highbanks yesterday. She was naked and scared to death; she had a saddle and bridle with her. She doesn't know much English, or much of anything else for that matter, but she did manage to tell us that she's a horse."
Jaime gave a snort of laughter, but her amusement died away when they didn't laugh along with her. She looked at Eric for confirmation and he gave an apologetic shrug. "Well," Jaime said, her voice too level, "she does have the coloring of a dun."
Dayna was momentarily speechless, until Jaime smirked; she smacked the equestrian on the arm. "Not funny."
Jaime's smile faded only slowly. "What else do you want me to say?"
"We were sort of hoping that just being here would knock some sense back into her," Eric said, looking over both women's heads to the ring, where Jess now frolicked along with the frisky mare. As if inexorably drawn to the sight, the three silently moved down the
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