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Back, baby! Thanks for waiting.

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Three days later found Lantern saddled and ready for… Aiden had no clue what. He rode the colt across the lane and into Abernathy's territory. The driveway was long and dotted by trees clearly planted by man, if their linear spacing was anything to go by.

Every worker they passed glanced up distrustingly as the pair moved deeper into the farm. Aiden glanced around uneasily, but didn't see Slade anywhere. Giving up, he waved a hand in a groom's direction to get his attention.

"Excuse me, sir, where can I find Mr. Yorak?"

The groom glared through narrow eyes and sized him up. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes," Aiden said firmly. It didn't matter that Slade hadn't specified a time… or a date, exactly. He was expecting them. Hopefully.

The other man grunted, but pointed down a well-worn dirt path. Aiden dipped his head in thanks and guided Lantern in the right direction.

About a quarter of a mile away from the barns and even farther from the few paddocks Aiden had seen, the ground opened up into a makeshift track. It was little more than cleared dirt and a rope railing, and probably no larger than six furlongs in circumference, but it was definitely a track. At that moment, an exercise rider was urging a young thoroughbred into a slow gallop around the far turn. It was an ovular path, with sharp, narrow turns and two long stretches in the middle prime for sprinting. As Aiden looked closer, he could see that the far side of the track was inclined.

When the running pair hit the far turn, the rider bent low over the horse's neck and let him loose. The thoroughbred opened up immediately, legs churning and eating up the dirt track. Beneath Aiden, Lantern started suddenly and began to dance in place, eyes fixed on the galloping pair.

Slade materialized beside them. "Off," he barked, making Aiden jump.

"Sorry?" he tried.

"Get off," Slade repeated. He jiggled the tiny saddle that he held in his hands. "You can't race in Western getup."

Aiden swallowed, but dutifully kicked off his stirrups and slid to the ground. As Lantern was still pacing in place, he stumbled when his feet hit the ground. Slade steadied him with a grip on his elbow, then efficiently stripped Lantern of his saddle set. In one fluid motion, the trainer slapped the racing saddle set on Lantern's back and cinched him up before the colt even had a clue what had happened.

Holding the palomino in place, Slade raised an arm and waited until the other rider glanced over. When the signal was seen, the rider sat up and slowed the other horse to a canter just as they came out of the far turn again. As they approached, Aiden could see that the chestnut colt was breathing heavily and his muscles were quivering with exhaustion, but his steps were sure and fluid. They walked the rest of the homestretch, then doubled back to the track entry where Slade and Aiden stood. This close, Aiden noticed how underdeveloped the colt was. He had assumed him to be a two-year-old but this close, he looked more like a yearling.

The rider slid down and handed the reins to Slade. As if summoned, a groom materialized in much the same way Slade had and took the colt away. Aiden assumed they were headed to a horse walker to cool the yearling off. The rider stepped closer. Aiden jerked back slightly when he recognized Sam, the girl from the other night. Not a groom then, after all.

"Sam will take him out," Slade said gruffly, and the girl dutifully grabbed Lantern's reins from Aiden's slack grip. She checked the girth, then accepted a leg up from Slade, sliding into the saddle like she was born there. Lantern froze, not used to having someone else ride him. His ranch training kicked in soon enough, however, and he moved out onto the track when Sam urged him to.

Aiden clenched his teeth briefly, nodally jealous that someone else was riding his colt, but the need to see what Lantern would do on the track outweighed his displeasure.

Sam straightened Lantern out and opened him up slowly, galloping him at a cow-slow pace for one full turn around the small track. As she passed them for the first time, Slade waved his arm in a small circle above his head. A signal, though Aiden didn't know for what. Sam took Lantern through the clubhouse turn a second time, then crouched low and pushed the two-year-old into a fast gallop up the incline. Used to the uneven surfaces of the cattle fields, Lantern handled it better than the chestnut colt had, but he was still breathing hard when they slowed into the far turn. They hadn't even reached racing speeds yet.

Next to him, Slade grunted and glanced down at a stopwatch that he had procured from who knew where.

"How is he?" Aiden couldn't help but ask.

Slade glanced over at him. "Slow," he said simply.

Another hand signal, and Sam was pulling Lantern in. She slid off his back and held him still while Slade ran his hands over Lantern's legs. Up, down, up, down. The horse turned his head to watch, already having caught his breath.

"He seems sound," Slade proclaimed before standing back up and facing Aiden head on. "We'll have our new vet check him over just to be sure, but I don't think we'll have any problems with the old injury, so long as we train him right. We can put him on an endurance-based training schedule to test his legs and build up his bone density. He's a year behind the rest of my racers, training-wise, which means he shouldn't start until he's at least four." Slade sized Aiden up, as if decided what to say next.

"He looks good out there, though," the older man admitted. "Sam, how did he feel?"

"Choppy," the rider said drolly. "And green. But he has potential."

"He's smooth as silk when I ride him," Aiden protested.

The girl cocked a skeptical brow. "You also ride him under Western tack. Tiny little racing saddles don't leave much room for comfort. If your mount is anything but perfect, you're going to feel it." She handed him back the reins, as if daring him to test Lantern out.

"Listen," Slade interjected. "He has potential, but we need to take it slow to make sure his legs can support him during a race. It's going to take time. My fee won't start until he starts actively racing, but he'll still have upkeep fees. New shoes, new tack, better food, and lots of it. He's also going to be put on a strict racing schedule, so you won't be able to keep him at the ranch any more. You'll lose a mount but still be paying for him. Think you can handle that?"

Aiden bit his lip and chewed, unsure. He glanced at Lantern, who currently had his ears pricked and nose turned into the wind. Was he ready for this? For so many years, he had wanted a racehorse. But was it really plausible? What if Lantern was no good? What if he never won a race? Then everything Aiden risked would be for nothing.

He looked back up at Slade. "I have some money stashed away in savings from my summer jobs," he said, the words the tumbling from his mouth before he realized he was saying them. "A year of training, you say?"

"If all goes well." Slade nodded solemnly.

Aiden took a deep breath, then thrust out his right hand. Slade took it. "Deal."

Shown: Lantern

Art, Characters, and Story (C) me

Next on:

Description
Back, baby! Thanks for waiting.

Continuation of:

Three days later found Lantern saddled and ready for… Aiden had no clue what. He rode the colt across the lane and into Abernathy's territory. The driveway was long and dotted by trees clearly planted by man, if their linear spacing was anything to go by.

Every worker they passed glanced up distrustingly as the pair moved deeper into the farm. Aiden glanced around uneasily, but didn't see Slade anywhere. Giving up, he waved a hand in a groom's direction to get his attention.

"Excuse me, sir, where can I find Mr. Yorak?"

The groom glared through narrow eyes and sized him up. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes," Aiden said firmly. It didn't matter that Slade hadn't specified a time… or a date, exactly. He was expecting them. Hopefully.

The other man grunted, but pointed down a well-worn dirt path. Aiden dipped his head in thanks and guided Lantern in the right direction.

About a quarter of a mile away from the barns and even farther from the few paddocks Aiden had seen, the ground opened up into a makeshift track. It was little more than cleared dirt and a rope railing, and probably no larger than six furlongs in circumference, but it was definitely a track. At that moment, an exercise rider was urging a young thoroughbred into a slow gallop around the far turn. It was an ovular path, with sharp, narrow turns and two long stretches in the middle prime for sprinting. As Aiden looked closer, he could see that the far side of the track was inclined.

When the running pair hit the far turn, the rider bent low over the horse's neck and let him loose. The thoroughbred opened up immediately, legs churning and eating up the dirt track. Beneath Aiden, Lantern started suddenly and began to dance in place, eyes fixed on the galloping pair.

Slade materialized beside them. "Off," he barked, making Aiden jump.

"Sorry?" he tried.

"Get off," Slade repeated. He jiggled the tiny saddle that he held in his hands. "You can't race in Western getup."

Aiden swallowed, but dutifully kicked off his stirrups and slid to the ground. As Lantern was still pacing in place, he stumbled when his feet hit the ground. Slade steadied him with a grip on his elbow, then efficiently stripped Lantern of his saddle set. In one fluid motion, the trainer slapped the racing saddle set on Lantern's back and cinched him up before the colt even had a clue what had happened.

Holding the palomino in place, Slade raised an arm and waited until the other rider glanced over. When the signal was seen, the rider sat up and slowed the other horse to a canter just as they came out of the far turn again. As they approached, Aiden could see that the chestnut colt was breathing heavily and his muscles were quivering with exhaustion, but his steps were sure and fluid. They walked the rest of the homestretch, then doubled back to the track entry where Slade and Aiden stood. This close, Aiden noticed how underdeveloped the colt was. He had assumed him to be a two-year-old but this close, he looked more like a yearling.

The rider slid down and handed the reins to Slade. As if summoned, a groom materialized in much the same way Slade had and took the colt away. Aiden assumed they were headed to a horse walker to cool the yearling off. The rider stepped closer. Aiden jerked back slightly when he recognized Sam, the girl from the other night. Not a groom then, after all.

"Sam will take him out," Slade said gruffly, and the girl dutifully grabbed Lantern's reins from Aiden's slack grip. She checked the girth, then accepted a leg up from Slade, sliding into the saddle like she was born there. Lantern froze, not used to having someone else ride him. His ranch training kicked in soon enough, however, and he moved out onto the track when Sam urged him to.

Aiden clenched his teeth briefly, nodally jealous that someone else was riding his colt, but the need to see what Lantern would do on the track outweighed his displeasure.

Sam straightened Lantern out and opened him up slowly, galloping him at a cow-slow pace for one full turn around the small track. As she passed them for the first time, Slade waved his arm in a small circle above his head. A signal, though Aiden didn't know for what. Sam took Lantern through the clubhouse turn a second time, then crouched low and pushed the two-year-old into a fast gallop up the incline. Used to the uneven surfaces of the cattle fields, Lantern handled it better than the chestnut colt had, but he was still breathing hard when they slowed into the far turn. They hadn't even reached racing speeds yet.

Next to him, Slade grunted and glanced down at a stopwatch that he had procured from who knew where.

"How is he?" Aiden couldn't help but ask.

Slade glanced over at him. "Slow," he said simply.

Another hand signal, and Sam was pulling Lantern in. She slid off his back and held him still while Slade ran his hands over Lantern's legs. Up, down, up, down. The horse turned his head to watch, already having caught his breath.

"He seems sound," Slade proclaimed before standing back up and facing Aiden head on. "We'll have our new vet check him over just to be sure, but I don't think we'll have any problems with the old injury, so long as we train him right. We can put him on an endurance-based training schedule to test his legs and build up his bone density. He's a year behind the rest of my racers, training-wise, which means he shouldn't start until he's at least four." Slade sized Aiden up, as if decided what to say next.

"He looks good out there, though," the older man admitted. "Sam, how did he feel?"

"Choppy," the rider said drolly. "And green. But he has potential."

"He's smooth as silk when I ride him," Aiden protested.

The girl cocked a skeptical brow. "You also ride him under Western tack. Tiny little racing saddles don't leave much room for comfort. If your mount is anything but perfect, you're going to feel it." She handed him back the reins, as if daring him to test Lantern out.

"Listen," Slade interjected. "He has potential, but we need to take it slow to make sure his legs can support him during a race. It's going to take time. My fee won't start until he starts actively racing, but he'll still have upkeep fees. New shoes, new tack, better food, and lots of it. He's also going to be put on a strict racing schedule, so you won't be able to keep him at the ranch any more. You'll lose a mount but still be paying for him. Think you can handle that?"

Aiden bit his lip and chewed, unsure. He glanced at Lantern, who currently had his ears pricked and nose turned into the wind. Was he ready for this? For so many years, he had wanted a racehorse. But was it really plausible? What if Lantern was no good? What if he never won a race? Then everything Aiden risked would be for nothing.

He looked back up at Slade. "I have some money stashed away in savings from my summer jobs," he said, the words the tumbling from his mouth before he realized he was saying them. "A year of training, you say?"

"If all goes well." Slade nodded solemnly.

Aiden took a deep breath, then thrust out his right hand. Slade took it. "Deal."

Shown: Lantern

Art, Characters, and Story (C) me

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