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Kellen’s attention sweeps from Lunar to me. “I just ran your brothers off, and they’re not too happy with me. I’d like to know what the issue is.”
I’d love for Kellen to know all about me, and now is the time. “Let’s go for a walk.”
I climb back over the fence and take Kellen’s hand. I lead him along a path through casual gardens Dr. Schoen has planted over the years. We end up at the lake where there’s a bench she placed as a memorial for her late husband. The sun hangs low, painting the water orange with ripples of yellow and red.
“You’ve obviously figured out that Blackburn Farms is a big deal, not just in Kentucky, but in the saddlebred world. This breed of horse is now bred worldwide, and our farm has a long list of champion stock.”
“What do you mean by champion stock? And how do you achieve that?”
Smart man. “You train the horses to show. You train riders to show them to their potential. You enter the horses into shows, and they win championships. Same as with horse racing… the winners produce gold for the owners.”
“So Blackburn Farms not only breeds saddlebreds, but you train as well?” he surmises.
“And show. Me and my siblings all took turns in the show ring. These days, Ethan only trains other riders, but Trey, Wade, and Kat still show with their horses in addition to training.”
Kellen glances back at the barn, which we can just see the top of in the distance. When his gaze comes back to me, he asks, “You and Lunar. You showed?”
I nod, looking out over the water. “I’ve been showing saddlebreds since I was six, but Lunar was the first I helped foal and raise. I was twelve when he was born, and I helped my dad and Ethan break him to the saddle. I was showing him by the time he was three and I was fifteen, although I showed other horses when I was younger.”
“I feel like those ages are important.”
“It’s not unheard of, showing so young, but I was what one might call an exceptional rider. I won a lot of blue ribbons over the years. I trained hard, of course, but with Lunar, we had this bond where I just knew what he needed, and he knew what I needed. It was almost symbiotic. We won the world championship three years in a row.”
Kellen blinks at me, mouth hanging open.
“I was training with him for a run at a fourth. It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college, and we were at a show in Virginia. We were in the ring, at a trot, and there was this girl—her name was Molly—we’d competed against each other over the years. She was very good, but that particular show, her horse was young and a little rambunctious. She came up behind me, going faster than we were. Lunar and I were on the rail, and in that instance, you pass on the right and give wide berth. I don’t know if she wasn’t paying attention or she couldn’t control him, but she got too close to Lunar. He spooked and kicked back with both feet, catching the other horse in the chest. I held my seat, but Molly’s ride went crazy, and she fell off.”
I squeeze my eyes shut because even though that was seven years ago, the memory still makes me sick to my stomach.
Kellen’s arm goes around my shoulders, but he remains silent, giving me time to continue on my own terms.
“Her boot caught in her stirrup, and she was dragged around the arena. The fact she was hanging from the stirrup freaked her horse out even more, and he bucked. When a rider is off, we stop in our tracks and keep our horses still, and it was torture watching her horse running around, bucking with her hanging from the stirrup while trainers entered the ring, trying to stop it.”
“What happened to her?” He’s pushing me gently to get past the details that clearly hurt to remember and to the worst part. He knows the story so far wouldn’t have changed my life’s trajectory.
“She took a hoof to the head.” Kellen frowns as if trying to imagine that. “We wear derby hats in the ring, not helmets. And when she was being dragged and her horse was kicking, it caught her in the head. I watched as it happened. So the exact moment of connection, I knew she wouldn’t survive it.”
“Jesus,” Kellen says on a sharp inhale, pulling me in closer. He presses his lips into my hair.
“I never went in the show ring again. I was done. It was too traumatic to have watched that, and I was scared. I’ve taken some nasty falls, even broken some bones, and every time my confidence got dinged up a bit. It’s natural. It can set riders back months in training, but I was always able to get back up on that horse, so to speak.
