The Midnight Prince

Packs of wolves and herds of Horses

(Natalie)

Chance follows me happily up the driveway to the horse barn and pastures. She reminds me of a little girl whose finally been allowed to go to her friends house, and I’m more than happy to be the best friend she never had. The sun is already blazing in the clear blue sky, not a whisp of a cloud above. There’s a breeze that’s strong enough to counter the heat but not so strong it’ll rule the horses. Which makes it a perfect day for riding.

We stop at the gate that has my personal horses in it. I can see the five of them hanging out about a hundred yards out near their favorite grazing spot.

I lean against the gate and the chain that holds it closed rattles, catching Rodger’s attention. He watches me through his fly mask, waiting to see if I’ll call to them. “Want to see something cute?” I ask Chance, who shakes her head yes.

I make an O with my lips and blow air out at an angle. A long, deep whistle echos across the open field. All five horses heads pop up and they all come trotting towards the gate without a second thought.

“What are their names?” Chance seems entranced by them, which I can’t blame her. I’ve lived around them my whole life and still get caught up in their beautiful movements.

I point to my palomino mare. “Well that one is Tilly, she’s my barrel racer. See how she’s at the front of the herd? That’s because the others know to leave her alone, she’s the boss out there.” Behind her is a black and white paint, and a big sorrel with a wide white blaze down his face and four white legs. “The paint is Bo Peep, she’s a good old lady. I use her every so often for more laid back rides and stuff like that. She’s a really easygoing horse. She’s best friends with Bel-Air, the big red one there next to her. Bel-air is my retired barrel racer and is Tilly’s sire. He did great and even through he’s so big, I rode him from the time I was 8 until Tilly got old enough to ride about four years ago. I still use him in a show every once in a while to keep him fresh.”

“That black one looks like he belongs in a movie!” Chance exclaims.

“That’s Decker. He’s a lot like Bo Peep. He’s nice and steady. Decker is great for farm work, has a level head, and doesn’t get worked up about anything really, just a good, reliable boy. He’s perfect for drunk trail rides.” I chuckle and Chance’s eyes widen.

“You can do that? Can we do that?”

I roll my eyes playfully. “Why don’t we teach you how to ride sober first, okay?”

Bringing up the rear is the lonesome bay Rodger. His dark brown coat gleams in the summer sun, and the sleek black points on his legs, mane and tail make him look so much younger than he is. “The little bay bringing up the end is Rodger. He’s my senior citizen. He taught me how to ride.” I tell her proudly. “I started when I was four, so he’s about 26 years old.”

Chance seems very surprised by this. “He’s older than us! How long do horses live?”

Tilly reaches the gate first and promptly pins her ears to remind the others that she gets her pets and attention first. “They can live up to 40 in some cases. The oldest I’ve seen is 35. But the average is about 30.” Tilly is the first at the gate as always. She leans her head over the gate and nickers at me affectionately.

“Wow that’s insane, I can’t believe they get that old.” Chance reaches out to touch the side of Tilly’s golden neck. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s a firecracker, that’s why we get along so well.” I pat her gently on the chest and Tilly nudges the gate with her nose.

Grabbing a halter, I slip between the metal bars and enter the pasture with my herd. I walk past Tilly, much to her disappointment, and place a halter on Bo Peep. “Come on Peepers, you’re up.” I tell her as I slip the halter into place on her head. I make a clicking sound and signal for the other horses to get out of my way. Tilly pins her ears at Bo Peep but I swat my hand at her and she backs away despite being clearly annoyed that she’s not coming with us.

“Here take this rope, it’s called a lead, and pull her towards you when I open the gate. I’m going to make sure none of the others get out.” I instruct Chance.

Once we have Bo Peep and the rest realize I’m not bringing anyone else today, they mosey back out to the grazing area. Chance and I walk together as I show her the correct way to lead a horse.

We spend around thirty minutes grooming, petting, and tacking up Bo Peep for Chance’s first lesson. Chance soaks up every word that I say, following my directions to a T.

I bring Peep and Chance to the outdoor arena and lead them in. The soft sand and dirt mixtures shifts beneath my feet. It’s got just the right amount of give and cushion for our horses to train and work on. The arena is small compared to most, roughly 20 yards wide by 40 yards long. But there’s plenty of room to practice barrels and poles so I’m content with it. The white fencing that lines it could use a fresh coat of paint, and I mentally add that to the never ending list of things I want to do but will probably never make time for. I imagine jotting it down just below cleaning out the tack room and right above learning to jet ski.

“Okay, your foot goes here in the stirrup and then grab onto the horn up there to pull you up. Once you’re up, swing your other leg over and put it into the stirrup on the other side.”

I give Chance a slight boost and she plops down into the saddle, wiggling her butt around until she’s comfortable. Bo Peep shifts her weight to accommodate her new rider and Chance grips the saddle horn like she might fall from it. “Take a nice deep breath. You’re safe, she’s not going to hurt you. If anything, you’re the predator in this relationship and she should fear you. But see how still she’s standing.” I take Chance’s hand in mine and pull her downward to feel the mare’s steady rise and fall of the top of her rib cage. “See? She’s calm, she’s trusting you to guide her and not hurt her. Peep is a good girl, she wants to teach you.”

“How do you know she wants to teach me and not just get this over with?” Chance c***s an eyebrow, her body slightly less tense than it was seconds ago.

I shield my eyes from the sun with a hand so I can peer up at Chance. “She told me so. I can feel what they’re thinkin’, you know? I just need to slow myself down and look into her. And she’ll show me what’s going on. When you’ve been around prey animals for as long as I have you get to understand their language.”

Chance gives me a look that says ‘yeah okay, whatever you say crazy lady. Just don’t let this horse kill me.’ Fair enough, it’s hard to describe the bond when you’ve never felt it. But they do talk to me. It’s more of a feeling than words. I find their messages in their eyes, or their body language. The energy they give off is the biggest tell, though.

Clearing my throat, I push the reins into Chance’a hands and step back until I’m leaning against the fence. “Alright there you go, give her a squeeze with your legs to go and pull the reins back to stop.” Chance rides around the arena, gaining confidence with each task I give her. Within an hour she’s doing absolutely incredible and Bo Peep seems to have taken a liking to her.

The sun moves through the sky and sweat starts beading along my forehead but I’m not bothered by it. The summer heat is comforting to me. Summer is when our homeland comes alive and grows new. Fresh crops, new livestock, and all the rodeos we can attend. I don’t know how people live in places where it’s cold and dead all year. That’s probably why Flint and I would never work out, even if he did want me. I couldn’t live in a frozen wasteland for the rest of my life. No, my home is here in the heartlands with my family.

“So what’s the deal with your brother? Why’s he all dark and gloomy? I mean seriously, does the guy ever smile?” I ask Chance as she rides past me.

She sighs a bit and turns Peep to practice the barrel pattern again. “I know he seems like a total douche but I promise you he’s not. He’s just going through a lot right now and trying to be as professional as he can given the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?”

Chance hesitates, as if there’s something she’s not sure if she should share or not.

“It’s none of my business what the Prince is dealing with, I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, forget I asked.” I shrug it off and lean against the fence. Liar, all we want is to know what she’s talking about. Nix hisses. My wolf’s voice in my mind is barely a whisper compared to my own inner monologue. Still, the corner of my mouth quirks as I try not to smile. She’s absolutely right, but I have to play it off nonchalant.

Chance trots up to where I’m standing. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. He’s going through a really shitty breakup. His girlfriend is our brother’s mate. She left Flint for Slate and now Flint is completely heartbroken and lost the trust he had for our brother. It’s a good thing we’re here really. I thought he was going to kill them both.”

He’s going through a breakup? That must be why he’s so cold to me. He doesn’t want to love anyone else but her. Great Celeste, I’m going to have to help him move on. He can’t go back home still desperately in love with her or he’ll end up seriously hurting someone, or f*****g up his succession to the throne.

“Damn, that is some really tough s**t right there. I hope he’ll be alright.” Speaking of Flint.. my wolf speaks out, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I turn to see Flint in a dirty white shirt and dusty jeans trudging up the path towards us. “Here comes your brother now.”