Mares and Mothers: First Encounter
Mares and Mothers
Chapter 1
First Encounter
(Fiction)
(This is the first chapter of a story I'm continuing to work on. As always, it's a work in progress.)
The bay stallion was lunging and lurching across his corner box stall, his nose stopping inches from the metal bars as he bared his teeth and bellowed a guttural, testosterone-fuelled scream that reverberated off the walls of the forest green and white stable.
His hooves thudded repeatedly against the wooden walls of his big stall and the sound echoed down the stable's stone corridor.
It was clear why the young stallion was so agitated, with the head stablehand Yves walking a beautiful chestnut mare back in forth in front of his stall. She was strutting, showing off to the stallion. The mare was in season with her tail slightly elevated to display her wares.
“Yves, I think you've got Kodi's attention,” said Rebecca, standing in the middle of the gray bricked aisle of the barn, laughing and shaking her head at the heightened excitement of the sleek colt as he tossed his head at the mare's heavy scent. Her laugh was bubbly and caused her brown curly ponytail to bob along the top of her shoulders.
“How about you take the mare to the shed now, I'll bring Kodi along in a minute,” Rebecca told Yves.
“Sure,” Yves replied, leading the mare to the breeding shed off the left side of the otherwise empty stallion barn.
“You want any equipment on her?” Yves yelled over his shoulder. Just then the mare reached for Yves and nipped, catching the sleeve of his shirt in her teeth.
“Cut that out!” he yelled, reprimanding her with a swat on her snout.
“You better watch her, Yves,” Rebecca joked, laughing. “It looks like she likes you!”
“Let's keep the equipment to a minimum, let's just see what she does first,” Rebecca hollered back as Yves stepped out of the barn, keeping the mare's teeth far away from him.
The chestnut mare, a former successful racehorse turned broodmare, had arrived at the barn only two days before and Rebecca had slipped her into Kodiak's breeding schedule after Denis, the in-house vet had confirmed she was ovulating.
“The less restraints the better in my book,” Rebecca said to herself since Yves was now out of earshot. “Kodi's got to learn the right way too.”
This was the part of the job that Rebecca loved the most. Combining two stellar bloodlines to see if a remarkable foal would be the result in 11 months time. For three years now, this had been her job as manager of Clairview Stables, a prestigious barn that mainly bred and raced thoroughbreds but also bred and trained a few sport horses.
For Kodiak though, this was his first official week on the job as a stud. The five-year-old stallion had cleaned up at the racetrack in the past three years. Last year, though, that winning streak was put to an end by a tendon injury that meant his early retirement to the breeding shed.
Kodiak was one of Clairview Stables' most successful racehorses in recent years and to have the homebred stallion now at stud had caused a spark of interest in the industry and already his appointment book for the year was nearly full.
The former racehorse was still learning the ropes _ and the proper protocol for getting permission from a mare to mount her _ but he had caught on quickly that girls meant a good time. It was easy to tell that so far the stallion liked his new job and all the perks that went with it as he stood tall in his stall, his ears pricked, waiting for the next move.
“Hey big boy, you'll get relief soon enough,” Rebecca said, stopping outside Kodiak's stall to reach in through the steel bars to pat his nose, which was quivering as his nostrils flared, still savouring the mare's scent.
His eyes were dark and alert, his ears flitted back and forth, picking up any sound within radius. His muscles were taut as he fretted and paced along the front of his stall and there was no hiding what his excitement did to him.
Rebecca slipped her roughened hand into the pocket of her kakhi work pants, picking out a cube of sugar to give to the stallion. The sweet smell of the sugar diverted the colt's attention for a moment, just enough for him to put his strong, fuzzy lips through the bars to nip the cube from her fingers.
“Watch it, kiddo,” Rebecca said, snapping back her hand and examining her fingers in feigned shock. “I need those, you know.”
Rebecca strode across the gray interlocking brick floor and reached up to a wooden rack on the wall to grab a leather lead shank with a heavy brass chain attached to the end.
She walked back to Kodi's stall, her steel-toed boots thudding heavily on the stone walkway. The stallion was prancing on his toes in his stall at the sight of the lead, knowing that this meant his time to perform was quickly approaching.
Rebecca opened the stallion's door, and firmly said, “Kodi, Stand.”
He reluctantly obeyed. But like a little kid who hops up and down on each foot in the hope that it counts for standing still, the stallion shifted his weight from hoof to hoof, unable to contain his anticipation.
Rebecca weaved the brass chain through the metal rings on the colt's halter and over his nose, giving her some leverage if he misbehaved, and clasped the clip to the other side.
So far the young stallion had been well behaved, albeit a little impatient. Rebecca knew that these first few weeks would be the most important to set the rules down about what the stallion could and could not do when it came to the mares.
She gave a gentle jerk on the shank to remind the stallion that she was in control, and opened his stall door, quickly grabbing a long, thin whip after she exited.
The stallion, now in the corridor leading to the breeding shed, called out shrilly to the mare, who whinnied in response. This set off Kodiak who danced sideways, his neck arched gracefully, and he pranced sideways down the hallway, his hoof beats clattering on the stone, each muscle clearly defined on his taut body.
