Welcome to Choteau, Montana, in 2018. What was once only a small city focused on fossils, has now started to turn into an equestrian mecca. Everyone still knows everyone, so the question remains, what will you become? 
From New York to Montana was a huge change in more ways than one. A new apartment, a new job, a new start. Of course, her reputation tended to follow her even as she hoped fewer people would keep up with national jumping news out here. Gail took in the new sight of the farm for a moment before unlatching the trailer door and letting it fall to the ground with a sudden clang. It was one of those trailers with a door by the horse's head instead of risking coming up from behind the contained horse.
Normal people would have led a horse backwards down the ramp. Gail merely unclipped the lead rope and watched as her bay gelding shot out backwards with unnatural speed. The bay Thoroughbred stood several feet back from the trailer nostrils flaring and the whites of his eyes visible. He was the sort of horse that had to be sedated and loaded with a twitch which seemed awfully excessive for a champion horse. No matter how much Gail had worked on desensitization, Jack treated the trailer like being in the belly of the beast. Half a minute later, the woman appeared and calmly clipped the lead rope back on the horse and led him around. Jack was nearly prancing and showed zero signs of settling down. He neighed a belly rumbling neigh that left Gail feeling half deaf for several long seconds after.
It then dawned on her that there hadn't been a whole lot of instructions for when she got here. Jack needed a stall, and she figured that she had to check in with someone like a barn manager, but who that would be, she couldn't say. For the first time in years, she looked completely lost in a barn. Jack wasn't helping by walking normally. At this hour, the kids were still in school, so the barn was relatively quiet. And the lack of head turning and attention was a welcome relief.
Normal people would have led a horse backwards down the ramp. Gail merely unclipped the lead rope and watched as her bay gelding shot out backwards with unnatural speed. The bay Thoroughbred stood several feet back from the trailer nostrils flaring and the whites of his eyes visible. He was the sort of horse that had to be sedated and loaded with a twitch which seemed awfully excessive for a champion horse. No matter how much Gail had worked on desensitization, Jack treated the trailer like being in the belly of the beast. Half a minute later, the woman appeared and calmly clipped the lead rope back on the horse and led him around. Jack was nearly prancing and showed zero signs of settling down. He neighed a belly rumbling neigh that left Gail feeling half deaf for several long seconds after.
It then dawned on her that there hadn't been a whole lot of instructions for when she got here. Jack needed a stall, and she figured that she had to check in with someone like a barn manager, but who that would be, she couldn't say. For the first time in years, she looked completely lost in a barn. Jack wasn't helping by walking normally. At this hour, the kids were still in school, so the barn was relatively quiet. And the lack of head turning and attention was a welcome relief.
