Post by Ripley on Aug 26, 2016 9:22:37 GMT -5
Who Me?
Color Coded For Each Individual Yearling
Ripley snuggled Keller against her chest and soaked in the child's warmth for the last few relaxing moments for the day. A heavy fog graced Battle Brook with its presence, so thick that she could barely see beyond the wide front porch. Right about now her fiance, friends and employees would be cleaning out stalls, feeding morning hay and letting horses out for the day. Usually she could hear the whinnies and scuffling hooves, but today there was comforting silence. She smoothed a hand down Keller's soft flannel shirt, smiling when he stirred long enough to grab a lock of her hair.
"And you always said you would never be a contented mother," Ripley murmured. She rolled her eyes to the porch rafters, remembering the days of fear and unease. Her career had been called into question, her whole lifestyle. The terror of finding out she was pregnant to a man who was only her boyfriend had scared her more than the financial situation. It was the matter of the whole thing, not the future that had horrified her. Luckily, Brooks had stood by her side, stuffed a ring on her finger and he was still around to care for and love their gorgeous blonde son. She'd struck the jackpot. Two years later they still weren't married, but they were a little closer and she wasn't in a rush.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel had her sitting up. She cuddled Keller close when headlights slashed through the whiteness, announcing Susie's arrival. Malcolm's stand in mother had also become hers. Keller was as much her grandson as any paper relationship. The stout woman clambered out of her car and was up the steps faster than she could blink. Susie's face was stern and her usually laughing eyes annoyed. "What kind of partners are you taking on? Ones that cut off a lady at the neck and leave her suffering in the ditch?"
Ripley couldn't help, but snort. Susie was not a lady. She was a full blooded woman who handled herself and prided herself for that fact. She would be more likely to leave a person dead if they threatened her than the opposite way around. A rebel heart had never found a more perfect host.
"Don't you laugh at me, Marsh," Susie grumbled as she promptly removed Keller from Ripley's arms. The boy just rubbed his chin on her shirt collar, not even waking up to the obvious tension. "I'm serious. I much prefer that Landing boy over these roughnecks."
Ripley simply lifted a brow at that and handed over the diaper bag. "I hardly think Jacob Briggs is a roughneck. He's 68 years old. You could practically date him."
Susie let out a belly laugh, clutching her hand to her stomach and looking up to the ceiling. "Puh-lease. And tie myself to a man after being free for so long? No. Thank. You." Susie turned her back on Ripley, bumbled down the steps, muttering all the way. "Let's get out of here Keller before your mother starts inhaling too much of the fog... You know there's rumors that fog makes people do crazy things."
With a dismissive wave, Susie tucked Keller neatly into his car seat and climbed into the front seat, leaving Ripley shaking her head and wishing for a cup of coffee.
*****
She found the accused roughneck dogging Malcolm as he filled water buckets in the yearling and weanling barn. Jacob's short frame and bowed legs were hard to miss, as was his endless scowl. Ripley paused at the nearest stall, peering in to check on Pure Innocence. The half-sister to Notorious was easily worked up by confrontation, but she seemed content as she licked her grain bucket clean.
"I just don't understand why you want to wait for Ripley," Jacob said gruffly.
Malcolm huffed, slapped the water spicket off and looked right at the weathered man. "Because I said so."
His desperate and cliche response was enough to have to Ripley laughing. Both men stiffened and looked her way and she had the pleasure of seeing both embarrassment and relief cross each man's face. "Ripley!" Malcolm exclaimed in a hurry. She could almost hear the "thank goodness you're here."
Jacob pulled his hat off and spun it in his hands, his dark brown eyes analyzing her boots, jeans and t-shirt as if he were searching for a reason to walk off into the sunset. "Good to see you, Ms. Marsh."
"Ripley," she replied. "Sorry about the heavy fog, Jacob. It's that time of year again when you need to know where you're going to navigate this place. Luckily, we have an indoor track where we can show off our yearlings today."
"They broke already?" Jacob asked, brushing off her apology like a cobweb.
"Yes, but we haven't been doing any heavy work lately. Just walking. Our more mature horses have been jogging on the synthetic. We'll start cantering and galloping in October and November. Step up the light breezing in December and do a few serious works, including one from the gate before the first start in January."
Jacob simply nodded at that, having no qualm with the way Ripley trained. The woman was renowned for her ability, but even the big trainers needed assistance now and then. "And why am I here?"
Right to the chase, Ripley thought as she led the way down the barn while at the same time texting her riders to meet her at the yearling barn asap. "Because," Ripley said as she swung around to face the wiry man. "My farm is huge. I have a hundred head out there at least and I think two barns will be better than one. You've taken the time to look into my project horses and I think you'll be an asset for the youngsters as well. Connor and Savvy seem certain that they have enough people to consider taking on some horses for next year. We'll ultimately decide at the start of Y17, but you might as well look now."
Malcolm appreciated the nothingness that came out of Jacob's mouth. It was the first time the old man had shut up since he arrived a half hour ago. Ripley was the kind of woman that could steam roll you flat and offer you the world in ten seconds. It was a talent she'd developed ruthlessly.
When Jacob merely looked beyond her shoulder, Ripley smirked. While she hadn't been open to the split of her barn at first, she had to admit that Connor and Savvy had picked a good man for the job. "My jocks will be here in a moment to help us lead them over to the indoor, but I can get started now."
Jacob kept a masked face as Ripley led a surprisingly brawny filly from her stall. He didn't need to be told her parentage to know she had to be descended from the Touch Up line. She had that look. She regarded her caretakers with a lazy air, flicking her rather large ears over her head in boredom. Her big brown eyes were gentle as Ripley stroked her neck, but there was an attitude that lurked beneath the surface. She was a little lanky, butt high at the moment, but he could see a formidable force developing in the future.
"This is our GS Judgement x Fiery Touch daughter. You probably recognize her. He stamps his fillies in the same way. Colts he stamps differently, but his girls are obviously his."
Jacob nodded, feeling minor satisfaction in correctly identifying the filly. He watched Ripley hand the filly over to Malcolm, watched the bay pin her ears when the trainer asked her to step into a forward walk. There was the attitude he'd expected. However, he was impressed with her walk. When she moved, she moved powerfully and with the man holding her head. She was interested despite the pretend disinterest. He expected her to be a runner because everything Touch Up produced turned to gold at some point.
As Malcolm disappeared, a group of six people walked into the barn. The group was an array of differences, but he recognized them all as BBS's top jocks. He took stock of their determined expressions and noted that he wouldn't make much difference of jockey changes when his group moved to Full Flight. Ripley did many things correctly, but top among them was her ability to match the right rider with the right horse.
"Just in time," Ripley said as she pulled the next horse out. He caught the glimmer in her eye and knew that this one was probably not coming to him. He couldn't blame her though when the animal stepped from the shadows into the light.
The colt was as elegant as they came with a classic head, a lean body and long legs that molded into perfect shoulders and powerful hindquarters. He had a sharply intelligent eye, a presence of a top horse and he took Jacob's breath away when he turned that eye on the trainer. "Who's this?"
Even Ripley could hear the tenor of excitement in Jacob's voice. She smiled brilliantly at his approval and directed Brooks to lead the colt down the pathway. He had a tremendous walk, a willingness to move purposefully even if he didn't have a place to go. "He is one of the first sons of Red Herring. A son of Silver Tide."
Jacob grunted, but was likewise impressed. Trust Ripley to mix a freshmen stud--a stud so renowned for his ability to press a front runner into the ground that who he took out with him was almost as huge as the races he won--with classic broodmare lines that were proven to produce sires. Even if this horse never ran a lick on the track, his pedigree was drool worthy for the breeding shed. Watching the horse strut out the building, Jacob was nearly certain the animal would be a runner.
"The first two horses you saw were Amnesty, the filly, and Bold Trick," Ripley pointed out as she turned to the next stall. "This next filly is Cataclysmic, the first daughter born with Mastermind as her sire. Her dam is Candid Silver, dam of Ares and our filly Pele's Wrath."
Jacob crossed his arms over his chest, struggling to see where he would fit in here. Every horse screamed "top dog" and he highly doubted Ripley would give them up to her second string trainer. This was almost an embarrassment of riches in his humble opinion. He set his expression when the filly was led out, expecting fireworks. The filly marched out of her stall with her ears flat against her head and her eyes blazing. He was set back by the ferocity he saw in the watch eye, wary of her more than coltish filly and Bold Trick.
Her sire had been an elegant animal, arrogant, but not mean. Mastermind had exuded class and an understanding that he was king--which he had been and still probably was. This one... she had a rebel heart. When Ripley turned her down the path, she kept a firm hold on the chain... a chain that hadn't been there for either Amnesty or the colt. Cataclysmic tossed an aggravated don't mess with me look over her shoulder at him. He was knocked back by her hellcat attitude and her swinging walk. She was a short thing, but every inch of her promised speed.
Jacob watched the grey march away, so distracted by her until another horse, another filly took her place. He loosened his tight grip on his own arms, forcing them to their sides just as he forced himself to take a look at the horse before him.
"This is Katana. A daughter of Instant Success and Mizadori." Jacob tilted his head to get a look at her. It had been a long time since her parents had run, her dam a consistent racehorse, but not the greatest. Her sire had been a three year old spark, one who ran impressive races, but who hadn't struck fear in anyone. She was a good looking filly. Her front toes were a little pigeon-toed, but her pasterns on all four legs were the right angle and she had a nice big butt. She wasn't the most impressive filly to look at for now, but she had a kind high and she was still growing.
She walked off with David Carter, a man infamous for his great rides aboard the temperamental Notorious. He liked her walk and her quiet confidence. Cataclysmic was a tough act to follow, but the latter filly promised a durable career if not brilliance.
The line up of yearlings was intense and Jacob was really feeling a bit humbled as Ripley walked down to the next stall. He was seeing the Year Seventeen crop of Battle Brook juveniles before anyone else. He thought that what he had already seen was going to be a new wave of talent, but there were still seven more to go. Holding his breath, Jacob clicked through his list of horses that he would want on his team.
"This filly," Ripley began as she guided a narrow chestnut from her stall. "...is Pure Innocence. She's a half-sister to Notorious and Grayson Meadow's Incineration. We have very high hopes for her. She has some Little Miss Innocent lineage through her sire The Innoncent Skier and we think she could be quite the turf runner."
Jacob circled around, getting a good look at the youngster's body. Her ears tipped backward when he took an extra hard look at her legs in an effort to find some sort of conformation fault. There was nothing. She was a lean filly, but her half-brother, Notorious, had that greyhound look to him as well. She watched him through small, narrowed eyes as if she were contemplating taking a bite of him if he continued to look at her. He smirked, finding her meanness oddly charming. She'd be a nag to work with, but Note hadn't exactly been a piece of cake according to Savvy and the rumor mill in the racing world.
The chestnut was led off by Reese, pinning her ears when a curious horse poked its head out of the stall. She continued on even though it appeared she would have loved to finish the job. Jacob tilted his head when the next horse walked out of the stall. The horse, a colt, was a classic bay with interested eyes and a friendly disposition. The tension in his body gave him away first. He danced sideways, tucking his chin to his neck, and let out a body shaking neigh that echoed in Jacob's ears. The horse had a fine body, but he was a hyper thing. Jacob wrinkled his nose, uncertain what to make of the hothead.
"Rogue Prince!" Ripley chastised. The colt flung his head high like a giraffe, avoiding her before he attempted to plow her over. She yanked on the rope, tightening the knots of the rope halter on his nose. She relaxed her grip and glanced around until she locked eyes with Laura, who didn't appear keen on taking the colt. Grudgingly, Laura took a hold of the rope and led the horse off. He trotted with his neck bowed, but he didn't bowl her over at least.
Ripley wiped her hands and sighed. "He's a work in progress. Another Notorious type. Studly. He's really intelligent. A son of Mr. Hat and Clogs and Crowned Cookie. His half-sister is Crowned Queen. She remained at Star Thoroughbreds thoguh when they went off the racing map."
She was good," Jacob said quickly. "He has the looks of a fast horse."
"That's an understatement," Ripley mumbled and stepped to the next stall.
The next horse, another plain bay, greeted Ripley with a nicker that vibrated his throat. Jacob liked the horse when he stepped from the stall, appreciating the thick bone in his legs and the big chest and shoulders. Where Bold Trick had been classic, this one promised to be burly when he grew up. The colt rubbed his face on Ripley's chest, lifting his head after to peer around for the colt who was now gone. "This guy is Tap Out, our first son of GS Royal Crown and Whipped Cream."
"Ah. That's where the body comes from," the older trainer stated as he walked around and took a good look at the colt. "He looks just like her. Could be anything with that sire though. Turf, dirt. Both of them were good at middle to classic distances."
"Good memory," Ripley muttered as she passed Tap Out off on the nearest groom. The colt had a strong walk and screamed class even with a relatively new pedigree. So far, this one was the one he thought he might get his hands on. He couldn't see Ripley passing him Cataclysmic or Bold Trick considering her attachment to their sires and dams. He wished he'd brought a pad to remember the pedigree and names. He likely wouldn't see these horses again until late winter when they began their real work for the races. A lot could change in the youngsters over a course of a few months.
The crowd in the barn was thinning down with just Kendall Williams, Jacob, Ripley and two other grooms left to assist. He counted the stalls that remained full and nodded to himself. Getting down there in stock, he thought. It was fine with him. He had enough to mull over for the new year.
The next colt was nearly black and perhaps the most solid horse he'd seen yet. This one's eyes were playful and excited. He moved with an overbearing confidence that just said to dare him to slow down. He pinned his ears and danced sideways when a colt across the way poked his head out into the aisle way. An otherwise bulky animal, it was almost unexpected to see the blistering fire. Jacob narrowed his eyes when the thick colt was lead away. He moved softly on his feet for all his weight and that intrigued Jacob immensely.
"Popcorn Blitz x The Goodness. He's a half-brother to Game Over, but he's built more like Swing Dancer," Ripley said when the colt was paused before the door. "Popcorn Blitz throws body into his foals that's for sure. He can be a grouch, but he really learns quickly. Can be stubborn, but for the most part he's straightforward to train."
Jacob could see a bright future for the temperamental colt. Something about the animal just struck him as potent. The colt flashed one more dark look at the equine threat before he was lead away.
"Now, if you liked Bold Trick, you'll like this guy," the trainer said by way of introduction. She motioned for a groom to step up and lead the horse out. He was the brown one who had insulted the last colt. The dainty head, the sharp, fiery eye and the perfectly formed body all struck Jacob in one hard blow to the gut. Certain horses carried themselves like fools, but not this one. He carried himself like a master swordsman, lightly and with malice.
He was almost stunned speechless when Ripley reached up and rubbed the horse's forehead. He'd expected the animal to strike, so wild was his initial appearance. Instead, the colt just cocked a foot, relaxed into the pressure and sighed. "He's sweeter than he looks. He's starting to get a 'tude during training, but back at the barn he's a baby. He's my first hope of a true distance runner by Ashes to Ashes. His Crescential and Requiem lines from Screaming Mimi should help to balance him out."
The older trainer grunted. He should have recognized the body type. The horse just had that feeling of old, wild lines. The Crooked Fire genes had made a comeback in the form of Call Me Crooked and through Ashes' daughters Fading Embers and Pele's Wrath. While Ashes was throwing shorter running horses, Screaming Mimi had oozed distance and stamina. Looking at the bay horse before him, he saw a perfect mixture of sire and dam.
"Last two," Ripley said with a smile. She gestured for the final groom and Kendall to step up and pull the last two horses out in tandem. Jacob stepped back as a bay and near black filly erupted from their wooden stalls, neighing like crazy fools. He frowned as Kendall spun the seal brown filly to a halt. The horse had a wild eye, a mean one too. She pinned her ears and would have launched her small body right around Kendall if not for the girl's quick dodge and hand on the chain. The horse shook her head as if she had a fly bothering her, but it was from impatience, not annoyance.
Her counterpart watched the flurry of action, mouthing anxiously like a baby. While she was the more mature of two in body type, her eyes still held the innocence of a baby. Jacob had to admit that he liked the lighter bay filly upon physical consult. She was well put together and strong in the back end. He liked that big motor look for races when late speed counted most. The seal brown filly was a slight thing, narrow and generally unmuscled. Her hide glimmered like a raven's wing and she looked healthy, just not as physically mature.
"Alrighty then," Ripley gasped in exasperation. "I promise that they aren't usually this misbehaved. The bay filly is Wayward Lass, daughter of Flawed Princess. Seal brown is Wild Annie, a Jessie James x Wild Kiss combo."
Jacob snorted, recognizing the seal brown daughter for all that she was worth. For all of the personality tics that Jessie James passed onto his runners, he sure could sire several good ones. Where distance might be questionable for the Ashes and Screaming Mimi colt, it wouldn't be a problem for the little thing standing in front of him.
He watched both fillies walk, noted the flash of attitude from Annie and the eagerness of Lass. He couldn't say which walk he liked better. Both fillies appeared athletic in movement and each had their own attractive features. He pressed a hand to his chin, circling the fillies when the groom and Kendall brought them to a halt. He was intrigued by Wild Annie and in love with Wayward Lass. He patted the bulkier filly on the neck and smiled when she tilted her head around to nudge his arm.
"You've given me a lot to think about," He remarked when the leftover horses walked away. Ripley nodded and placed her hands on her hips. "That's a good thing, by the way."
"I know." Jacob lifted a brow at her stilted words, certain he'd offended her somehow, but when he looked at her, she wasn't even looking at him. She stared at the ground until he cleared his throat. Something wrong?"
"Nothing. Just don't know how I'm going to split this crop down. I see everything I want to see in all of these horses. I pretty much know where they'll go and how I'd like them raced. It'll be an experience handing them to someone else."
"You don't have to, you know," Jacob replied gruffly.
"I want to," she clarified. "Anything that caught your eye?"
Unwilling to flash his hand too soon, Jacob shrugged. "The Mastermind filly looks like she could be something extra special. Bold Trick is good. The rest all need some growing and track time, but they're a nice bunch."
Ripley could tell the man was holding back. There was a twinkle in his eye that hadn't been there when they started this whole ordeal. She narrowed her own green eyes and crossed her arms. "I agree. They show their best on the track. Now that it's fall, we can start getting to the cantering and loping. We've done a lot of groundwork and jogging, building up those bones for long careers. Come, let's go watch them in the paddocks."
Jacob nodded and followed the auburn haired woman from her barn, keeping his arms loose at his sides instead of rubbing his hands together as he wanted to do. He'd been dreading the interaction in the days leading up, but now he felt like he was flying on cloud nine.
"And you always said you would never be a contented mother," Ripley murmured. She rolled her eyes to the porch rafters, remembering the days of fear and unease. Her career had been called into question, her whole lifestyle. The terror of finding out she was pregnant to a man who was only her boyfriend had scared her more than the financial situation. It was the matter of the whole thing, not the future that had horrified her. Luckily, Brooks had stood by her side, stuffed a ring on her finger and he was still around to care for and love their gorgeous blonde son. She'd struck the jackpot. Two years later they still weren't married, but they were a little closer and she wasn't in a rush.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel had her sitting up. She cuddled Keller close when headlights slashed through the whiteness, announcing Susie's arrival. Malcolm's stand in mother had also become hers. Keller was as much her grandson as any paper relationship. The stout woman clambered out of her car and was up the steps faster than she could blink. Susie's face was stern and her usually laughing eyes annoyed. "What kind of partners are you taking on? Ones that cut off a lady at the neck and leave her suffering in the ditch?"
Ripley couldn't help, but snort. Susie was not a lady. She was a full blooded woman who handled herself and prided herself for that fact. She would be more likely to leave a person dead if they threatened her than the opposite way around. A rebel heart had never found a more perfect host.
"Don't you laugh at me, Marsh," Susie grumbled as she promptly removed Keller from Ripley's arms. The boy just rubbed his chin on her shirt collar, not even waking up to the obvious tension. "I'm serious. I much prefer that Landing boy over these roughnecks."
Ripley simply lifted a brow at that and handed over the diaper bag. "I hardly think Jacob Briggs is a roughneck. He's 68 years old. You could practically date him."
Susie let out a belly laugh, clutching her hand to her stomach and looking up to the ceiling. "Puh-lease. And tie myself to a man after being free for so long? No. Thank. You." Susie turned her back on Ripley, bumbled down the steps, muttering all the way. "Let's get out of here Keller before your mother starts inhaling too much of the fog... You know there's rumors that fog makes people do crazy things."
With a dismissive wave, Susie tucked Keller neatly into his car seat and climbed into the front seat, leaving Ripley shaking her head and wishing for a cup of coffee.
*****
She found the accused roughneck dogging Malcolm as he filled water buckets in the yearling and weanling barn. Jacob's short frame and bowed legs were hard to miss, as was his endless scowl. Ripley paused at the nearest stall, peering in to check on Pure Innocence. The half-sister to Notorious was easily worked up by confrontation, but she seemed content as she licked her grain bucket clean.
"I just don't understand why you want to wait for Ripley," Jacob said gruffly.
Malcolm huffed, slapped the water spicket off and looked right at the weathered man. "Because I said so."
His desperate and cliche response was enough to have to Ripley laughing. Both men stiffened and looked her way and she had the pleasure of seeing both embarrassment and relief cross each man's face. "Ripley!" Malcolm exclaimed in a hurry. She could almost hear the "thank goodness you're here."
Jacob pulled his hat off and spun it in his hands, his dark brown eyes analyzing her boots, jeans and t-shirt as if he were searching for a reason to walk off into the sunset. "Good to see you, Ms. Marsh."
"Ripley," she replied. "Sorry about the heavy fog, Jacob. It's that time of year again when you need to know where you're going to navigate this place. Luckily, we have an indoor track where we can show off our yearlings today."
"They broke already?" Jacob asked, brushing off her apology like a cobweb.
"Yes, but we haven't been doing any heavy work lately. Just walking. Our more mature horses have been jogging on the synthetic. We'll start cantering and galloping in October and November. Step up the light breezing in December and do a few serious works, including one from the gate before the first start in January."
Jacob simply nodded at that, having no qualm with the way Ripley trained. The woman was renowned for her ability, but even the big trainers needed assistance now and then. "And why am I here?"
Right to the chase, Ripley thought as she led the way down the barn while at the same time texting her riders to meet her at the yearling barn asap. "Because," Ripley said as she swung around to face the wiry man. "My farm is huge. I have a hundred head out there at least and I think two barns will be better than one. You've taken the time to look into my project horses and I think you'll be an asset for the youngsters as well. Connor and Savvy seem certain that they have enough people to consider taking on some horses for next year. We'll ultimately decide at the start of Y17, but you might as well look now."
Malcolm appreciated the nothingness that came out of Jacob's mouth. It was the first time the old man had shut up since he arrived a half hour ago. Ripley was the kind of woman that could steam roll you flat and offer you the world in ten seconds. It was a talent she'd developed ruthlessly.
When Jacob merely looked beyond her shoulder, Ripley smirked. While she hadn't been open to the split of her barn at first, she had to admit that Connor and Savvy had picked a good man for the job. "My jocks will be here in a moment to help us lead them over to the indoor, but I can get started now."
Jacob kept a masked face as Ripley led a surprisingly brawny filly from her stall. He didn't need to be told her parentage to know she had to be descended from the Touch Up line. She had that look. She regarded her caretakers with a lazy air, flicking her rather large ears over her head in boredom. Her big brown eyes were gentle as Ripley stroked her neck, but there was an attitude that lurked beneath the surface. She was a little lanky, butt high at the moment, but he could see a formidable force developing in the future.
"This is our GS Judgement x Fiery Touch daughter. You probably recognize her. He stamps his fillies in the same way. Colts he stamps differently, but his girls are obviously his."
Jacob nodded, feeling minor satisfaction in correctly identifying the filly. He watched Ripley hand the filly over to Malcolm, watched the bay pin her ears when the trainer asked her to step into a forward walk. There was the attitude he'd expected. However, he was impressed with her walk. When she moved, she moved powerfully and with the man holding her head. She was interested despite the pretend disinterest. He expected her to be a runner because everything Touch Up produced turned to gold at some point.
As Malcolm disappeared, a group of six people walked into the barn. The group was an array of differences, but he recognized them all as BBS's top jocks. He took stock of their determined expressions and noted that he wouldn't make much difference of jockey changes when his group moved to Full Flight. Ripley did many things correctly, but top among them was her ability to match the right rider with the right horse.
"Just in time," Ripley said as she pulled the next horse out. He caught the glimmer in her eye and knew that this one was probably not coming to him. He couldn't blame her though when the animal stepped from the shadows into the light.
The colt was as elegant as they came with a classic head, a lean body and long legs that molded into perfect shoulders and powerful hindquarters. He had a sharply intelligent eye, a presence of a top horse and he took Jacob's breath away when he turned that eye on the trainer. "Who's this?"
Even Ripley could hear the tenor of excitement in Jacob's voice. She smiled brilliantly at his approval and directed Brooks to lead the colt down the pathway. He had a tremendous walk, a willingness to move purposefully even if he didn't have a place to go. "He is one of the first sons of Red Herring. A son of Silver Tide."
Jacob grunted, but was likewise impressed. Trust Ripley to mix a freshmen stud--a stud so renowned for his ability to press a front runner into the ground that who he took out with him was almost as huge as the races he won--with classic broodmare lines that were proven to produce sires. Even if this horse never ran a lick on the track, his pedigree was drool worthy for the breeding shed. Watching the horse strut out the building, Jacob was nearly certain the animal would be a runner.
"The first two horses you saw were Amnesty, the filly, and Bold Trick," Ripley pointed out as she turned to the next stall. "This next filly is Cataclysmic, the first daughter born with Mastermind as her sire. Her dam is Candid Silver, dam of Ares and our filly Pele's Wrath."
Jacob crossed his arms over his chest, struggling to see where he would fit in here. Every horse screamed "top dog" and he highly doubted Ripley would give them up to her second string trainer. This was almost an embarrassment of riches in his humble opinion. He set his expression when the filly was led out, expecting fireworks. The filly marched out of her stall with her ears flat against her head and her eyes blazing. He was set back by the ferocity he saw in the watch eye, wary of her more than coltish filly and Bold Trick.
Her sire had been an elegant animal, arrogant, but not mean. Mastermind had exuded class and an understanding that he was king--which he had been and still probably was. This one... she had a rebel heart. When Ripley turned her down the path, she kept a firm hold on the chain... a chain that hadn't been there for either Amnesty or the colt. Cataclysmic tossed an aggravated don't mess with me look over her shoulder at him. He was knocked back by her hellcat attitude and her swinging walk. She was a short thing, but every inch of her promised speed.
Jacob watched the grey march away, so distracted by her until another horse, another filly took her place. He loosened his tight grip on his own arms, forcing them to their sides just as he forced himself to take a look at the horse before him.
"This is Katana. A daughter of Instant Success and Mizadori." Jacob tilted his head to get a look at her. It had been a long time since her parents had run, her dam a consistent racehorse, but not the greatest. Her sire had been a three year old spark, one who ran impressive races, but who hadn't struck fear in anyone. She was a good looking filly. Her front toes were a little pigeon-toed, but her pasterns on all four legs were the right angle and she had a nice big butt. She wasn't the most impressive filly to look at for now, but she had a kind high and she was still growing.
She walked off with David Carter, a man infamous for his great rides aboard the temperamental Notorious. He liked her walk and her quiet confidence. Cataclysmic was a tough act to follow, but the latter filly promised a durable career if not brilliance.
The line up of yearlings was intense and Jacob was really feeling a bit humbled as Ripley walked down to the next stall. He was seeing the Year Seventeen crop of Battle Brook juveniles before anyone else. He thought that what he had already seen was going to be a new wave of talent, but there were still seven more to go. Holding his breath, Jacob clicked through his list of horses that he would want on his team.
"This filly," Ripley began as she guided a narrow chestnut from her stall. "...is Pure Innocence. She's a half-sister to Notorious and Grayson Meadow's Incineration. We have very high hopes for her. She has some Little Miss Innocent lineage through her sire The Innoncent Skier and we think she could be quite the turf runner."
Jacob circled around, getting a good look at the youngster's body. Her ears tipped backward when he took an extra hard look at her legs in an effort to find some sort of conformation fault. There was nothing. She was a lean filly, but her half-brother, Notorious, had that greyhound look to him as well. She watched him through small, narrowed eyes as if she were contemplating taking a bite of him if he continued to look at her. He smirked, finding her meanness oddly charming. She'd be a nag to work with, but Note hadn't exactly been a piece of cake according to Savvy and the rumor mill in the racing world.
The chestnut was led off by Reese, pinning her ears when a curious horse poked its head out of the stall. She continued on even though it appeared she would have loved to finish the job. Jacob tilted his head when the next horse walked out of the stall. The horse, a colt, was a classic bay with interested eyes and a friendly disposition. The tension in his body gave him away first. He danced sideways, tucking his chin to his neck, and let out a body shaking neigh that echoed in Jacob's ears. The horse had a fine body, but he was a hyper thing. Jacob wrinkled his nose, uncertain what to make of the hothead.
"Rogue Prince!" Ripley chastised. The colt flung his head high like a giraffe, avoiding her before he attempted to plow her over. She yanked on the rope, tightening the knots of the rope halter on his nose. She relaxed her grip and glanced around until she locked eyes with Laura, who didn't appear keen on taking the colt. Grudgingly, Laura took a hold of the rope and led the horse off. He trotted with his neck bowed, but he didn't bowl her over at least.
Ripley wiped her hands and sighed. "He's a work in progress. Another Notorious type. Studly. He's really intelligent. A son of Mr. Hat and Clogs and Crowned Cookie. His half-sister is Crowned Queen. She remained at Star Thoroughbreds thoguh when they went off the racing map."
She was good," Jacob said quickly. "He has the looks of a fast horse."
"That's an understatement," Ripley mumbled and stepped to the next stall.
The next horse, another plain bay, greeted Ripley with a nicker that vibrated his throat. Jacob liked the horse when he stepped from the stall, appreciating the thick bone in his legs and the big chest and shoulders. Where Bold Trick had been classic, this one promised to be burly when he grew up. The colt rubbed his face on Ripley's chest, lifting his head after to peer around for the colt who was now gone. "This guy is Tap Out, our first son of GS Royal Crown and Whipped Cream."
"Ah. That's where the body comes from," the older trainer stated as he walked around and took a good look at the colt. "He looks just like her. Could be anything with that sire though. Turf, dirt. Both of them were good at middle to classic distances."
"Good memory," Ripley muttered as she passed Tap Out off on the nearest groom. The colt had a strong walk and screamed class even with a relatively new pedigree. So far, this one was the one he thought he might get his hands on. He couldn't see Ripley passing him Cataclysmic or Bold Trick considering her attachment to their sires and dams. He wished he'd brought a pad to remember the pedigree and names. He likely wouldn't see these horses again until late winter when they began their real work for the races. A lot could change in the youngsters over a course of a few months.
The crowd in the barn was thinning down with just Kendall Williams, Jacob, Ripley and two other grooms left to assist. He counted the stalls that remained full and nodded to himself. Getting down there in stock, he thought. It was fine with him. He had enough to mull over for the new year.
The next colt was nearly black and perhaps the most solid horse he'd seen yet. This one's eyes were playful and excited. He moved with an overbearing confidence that just said to dare him to slow down. He pinned his ears and danced sideways when a colt across the way poked his head out into the aisle way. An otherwise bulky animal, it was almost unexpected to see the blistering fire. Jacob narrowed his eyes when the thick colt was lead away. He moved softly on his feet for all his weight and that intrigued Jacob immensely.
"Popcorn Blitz x The Goodness. He's a half-brother to Game Over, but he's built more like Swing Dancer," Ripley said when the colt was paused before the door. "Popcorn Blitz throws body into his foals that's for sure. He can be a grouch, but he really learns quickly. Can be stubborn, but for the most part he's straightforward to train."
Jacob could see a bright future for the temperamental colt. Something about the animal just struck him as potent. The colt flashed one more dark look at the equine threat before he was lead away.
"Now, if you liked Bold Trick, you'll like this guy," the trainer said by way of introduction. She motioned for a groom to step up and lead the horse out. He was the brown one who had insulted the last colt. The dainty head, the sharp, fiery eye and the perfectly formed body all struck Jacob in one hard blow to the gut. Certain horses carried themselves like fools, but not this one. He carried himself like a master swordsman, lightly and with malice.
He was almost stunned speechless when Ripley reached up and rubbed the horse's forehead. He'd expected the animal to strike, so wild was his initial appearance. Instead, the colt just cocked a foot, relaxed into the pressure and sighed. "He's sweeter than he looks. He's starting to get a 'tude during training, but back at the barn he's a baby. He's my first hope of a true distance runner by Ashes to Ashes. His Crescential and Requiem lines from Screaming Mimi should help to balance him out."
The older trainer grunted. He should have recognized the body type. The horse just had that feeling of old, wild lines. The Crooked Fire genes had made a comeback in the form of Call Me Crooked and through Ashes' daughters Fading Embers and Pele's Wrath. While Ashes was throwing shorter running horses, Screaming Mimi had oozed distance and stamina. Looking at the bay horse before him, he saw a perfect mixture of sire and dam.
"Last two," Ripley said with a smile. She gestured for the final groom and Kendall to step up and pull the last two horses out in tandem. Jacob stepped back as a bay and near black filly erupted from their wooden stalls, neighing like crazy fools. He frowned as Kendall spun the seal brown filly to a halt. The horse had a wild eye, a mean one too. She pinned her ears and would have launched her small body right around Kendall if not for the girl's quick dodge and hand on the chain. The horse shook her head as if she had a fly bothering her, but it was from impatience, not annoyance.
Her counterpart watched the flurry of action, mouthing anxiously like a baby. While she was the more mature of two in body type, her eyes still held the innocence of a baby. Jacob had to admit that he liked the lighter bay filly upon physical consult. She was well put together and strong in the back end. He liked that big motor look for races when late speed counted most. The seal brown filly was a slight thing, narrow and generally unmuscled. Her hide glimmered like a raven's wing and she looked healthy, just not as physically mature.
"Alrighty then," Ripley gasped in exasperation. "I promise that they aren't usually this misbehaved. The bay filly is Wayward Lass, daughter of Flawed Princess. Seal brown is Wild Annie, a Jessie James x Wild Kiss combo."
Jacob snorted, recognizing the seal brown daughter for all that she was worth. For all of the personality tics that Jessie James passed onto his runners, he sure could sire several good ones. Where distance might be questionable for the Ashes and Screaming Mimi colt, it wouldn't be a problem for the little thing standing in front of him.
He watched both fillies walk, noted the flash of attitude from Annie and the eagerness of Lass. He couldn't say which walk he liked better. Both fillies appeared athletic in movement and each had their own attractive features. He pressed a hand to his chin, circling the fillies when the groom and Kendall brought them to a halt. He was intrigued by Wild Annie and in love with Wayward Lass. He patted the bulkier filly on the neck and smiled when she tilted her head around to nudge his arm.
"You've given me a lot to think about," He remarked when the leftover horses walked away. Ripley nodded and placed her hands on her hips. "That's a good thing, by the way."
"I know." Jacob lifted a brow at her stilted words, certain he'd offended her somehow, but when he looked at her, she wasn't even looking at him. She stared at the ground until he cleared his throat. Something wrong?"
"Nothing. Just don't know how I'm going to split this crop down. I see everything I want to see in all of these horses. I pretty much know where they'll go and how I'd like them raced. It'll be an experience handing them to someone else."
"You don't have to, you know," Jacob replied gruffly.
"I want to," she clarified. "Anything that caught your eye?"
Unwilling to flash his hand too soon, Jacob shrugged. "The Mastermind filly looks like she could be something extra special. Bold Trick is good. The rest all need some growing and track time, but they're a nice bunch."
Ripley could tell the man was holding back. There was a twinkle in his eye that hadn't been there when they started this whole ordeal. She narrowed her own green eyes and crossed her arms. "I agree. They show their best on the track. Now that it's fall, we can start getting to the cantering and loping. We've done a lot of groundwork and jogging, building up those bones for long careers. Come, let's go watch them in the paddocks."
Jacob nodded and followed the auburn haired woman from her barn, keeping his arms loose at his sides instead of rubbing his hands together as he wanted to do. He'd been dreading the interaction in the days leading up, but now he felt like he was flying on cloud nine.
