4. Irremediable

The Wonder.

Ashleigh's Wonder was the only name the farm bothered to submit with the registration paperwork on the filly. Ashleigh tried not to let this bother her, so she commonly told herself it was just a foregone conclusion. Tom O'Brien's name for the foal had stuck, and Ashleigh had no reason to be disappointed. Wonder. It was a good name. It was fitting. It was true.

It did not stop Ashleigh from worrying. When the filly spent most of her yearling season grazing among other late developing fillies, she wanted to know when the trainers would come for her. She worried that Wonder was being forgotten. She voiced her rising fears to Charlie, who only told her to bide her time. The trainers, he assured her, would definitely come.

When they came she was afraid they would handle the filly all wrong. Wonder was changing before her eyes, growing and shedding off the friendly foal antics of the summer previous. She stepped lightly through her paces, dodging and missing her cues. Ashleigh watched when she could, clung to the rail of the round pen, fought like an overprotective mother for her say in a wayward offspring's uncertain future.

She didn't know if she was going to get anywhere. Wonder, although treated with all the patience Maddock could muster, was certainly on no fast track. Ashleigh could only look at the training oval and try to push down the rising feeling of impatience, of injustice. She didn't want to yell that it wasn't fair, but it seemed like it was the only thing she dreamed of doing. She looked at Brad, who had eyes only for the Prince and wanted him to know how deeply unfair this was. She knew he'd only laugh in her face, and what was worse was she knew she would deserve it.

"I want Ashleigh to handle her first," Maddock said, completely out of the blue. Ashleigh looked up from the aisle and at him like she hadn't heard him right.

"Are you listening to me, Ashleigh?" Maddock asked, standing outside the filly's stall, one hand on the door as she gaped at him. "You've been hanging around here all summer, Griffen. I might as well put you to use."

"Oh," was all she said, stumbling forward and meeting him at the door.

"Have you done this before?" he asked her, looking at her intensely, as if he could pull the answers from her head before she could speak them.

"No," she said quietly, and cleared her throat. "No."

"I'm going to give you a leg up and you're going to rest your stomach over the saddle," Maddock said. "If she tenses up, and you'll feel it, I want you off of her. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," she said, nodding and taking the helmet that was handed to her. She fitted it on her head, buckling it and following Maddock into the stall, where Wonder stood, tacked and ready for something she couldn't anticipate. Maddock lifted her up on three, and before she knew what was happening Ashleigh was balancing with all the grace of a sack of grain on Wonder's back.

"Whoa," she said, feeling the filly quiver uncertainly. She gripped the saddle with one hand, tried to keep her legs still, to reach over and stroke the filly's neck. That did it. The filly screamed, jumping sideways as Maddock hauled Ashleigh unceremoniously to the ground.

It wasn't their last attempt. It was just a beginning, by far the first in a long succession of failures. The filly wanted no part of Ashleigh's weight, and each time she came off, Ashleigh's greatest fear was that somehow the filly would connect her with the dreaded pressure on her back. Each time the filly turned to her with panicked eyes, instantly calming at the sight of her.

Persistence was the only thing that won out. Maddock, too busy to devote his time, allowed Charlie to take command, and by fall the filly was settled enough under saddle to take her first trembling steps on the track. During her tenth day of track work, after a nightmare trip around the oval leaving Ashleigh shaking like a leaf, Maddock pulled Wonder out of training, saying it was too soon.

"It can't be too soon," Ashleigh pleaded, not bothering to say that if they waited any longer, the filly would never race at all. That was the unspoken truth everyone already knew.

"Ashleigh, she needs to take baby steps," Maddock sighed on his way back to the training barns, Ashleigh struggling to keep up with his longer strides. "I've put her with the slowest group, and she's proving to need special treatment outside of that. I'm going to have to recommend saving her for breeding."

"What will happen to her if you decide to wait?"

"I have decided to wait," Maddock said, walking into his office, Ashleigh hot on his heels. "In the meantime she'll stay in her paddock, eating her head off."

"Let me work with her," Ashleigh requested. Maddock looked dubiously at her, as if she'd just said she was qualified to run in the Kentucky Derby tomorrow.

"Charlie can help me," she persisted. "She's too young to be bred next year anyway, and while we work with her she's no longer your problem."

"Ashleigh…"

"Wonder needs baby steps, and I can help her, Mr. Maddock. I know I can. If she doesn't improve, she won't, but this way we're at least giving her a shot to be more profitable for Mr. Townsend."

He smiled a little at that. "You catch on quick to how things work around here, kid."

Ashleigh blushed, and glanced down at her dirty fingernails, fighting the urge to push harder while he appeared to be deliberating. Instead she looked up at him, keeping her pleading eyes and respectful silence.

"Fine," Maddock said, waving a hand in the direction of the stable. "Just don't get yourself killed. If you take the filly out, I want Charlie with you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Ashleigh said, hardly able to restrain her glee.

"I don't want your father coming after me if you get hurt," Maddock said.

"I won't get hurt."

"That's wishful thinking, Griffen," Maddock told her. "Go tell Charlie."

She spun out of his office and raced down the barn aisle, only pausing long enough to give Wonder a kiss on the nose.

The news wasn't met with nearly the amount of enthusiasm as she wanted. Charlie was reserved, but then he was almost always reserved, if not pessimistic. Her parents, having been prodded into letting her ride Wonder in the first place, only worried more. Caroline rolled her eyes. Linda had her doubts. Rory was the only one who thought it was undeniably awesome. Those were his words.

"One thing we're going to work on right now is that seat," Charlie barked at her during their first ride on the trails. To her surprise, Charlie had no intention of working Wonder on the training oval. To her further surprise, he seemed more interested in her riding than in Wonder.

"What's wrong with it?" Ashleigh asked, trying not to sound petulant. Charlie only looked at her and started to bark commands while they rode, and when they got back to the barn, Wonder was perky and thriving while every point in Ashleigh's body ached.

By the turn of the New Year, Ashleigh had to admit her riding was vastly improved. Wonder, by comparison, was the one receiving the schooling. Linda often came with them, shouldering Belle into the filly while they walked, crowding her into Dominator, making the filly learn that racing meant contact, meant pushing back and fighting for room, whether Wonder liked it or not.

The lessons were slow, were arduous. Charlie rotated the horses, rotated the riders, made Wonder carry Linda, Jilly, even himself, as much as she carried Ashleigh. The filly churned over the frozen ground in February, working through every weather condition, every situation Charlie could throw at her without the benefit of a training oval. Whenever Ashleigh questioned him about working on the track, she was met with stony silence or a command of keeping her patience. Ashleigh thought she had patience by now. She had patience in spades.

By March, while the ground was beginning its slow attempt to unthaw, Charlie said it was time.

"Nothing big," he said, sitting on Belle and holding Wonder's lead rope. The filly was breathing deeply, her nostrils flared for the scent of the upcoming spring. "If I see this animal bolting down the lane at a full gallop, I swear I'll have Jilly ride her for the next week."

"I won't go too fast," Ashleigh promised, hoping desperately she had the power to keep the strengthening filly in check. Wonder was nowhere near the strength of colts like the Prince, but she certainly could challenge Ashleigh if she wanted. Ashleigh hoped now would not be that time.

"I marked a spot further down the lane," Charlie said to her. "It's two furlongs give or take, and I'll go down there and serve as your marker. When I give you the signal, I want you to do what we've been practicing. Start her at a standstill, and gallop her down to me."

"Okay, Charlie."

He looked at her for a long moment and nodded, muttering something to himself as he trotted Belle down to their position in the field of brown grass. Ashleigh collected herself, turning the filly to face their intended path, feeling her heart beating chaotically in her chest. Wonder tipped her ears back, dancing with anticipation.

Charlie took off his hat and held it over his head, made sure he got Ashleigh's attention. His pale blue eyes were directly on her as Ashleigh prepared herself for the start. Then his hat dropped. Wonder jumped and took off.

Ashleigh tried to keep the filly straight, tried to keep herself balanced on top of her surging body. Wonder darted left, veered right, and finally ran semi-straight enough to slip by in a field sobriety test. In a moment of what Ashleigh could only assume to be carefree antics, Wonder kicked up her heels and booted her right out of the saddle. All she could remember was hitting the ground on her back, feeling the wind rush out of her lungs, and noticing that the sky was particularly blue.

"Damn it," she heard Charlie yelling. Wonder's hooves thundered off, dissipating until she couldn't hear them at all. She groaned and sat up, doing a quick mental check. Arms moved without pain, check. Legs, check. Torso, check. Bruises? Oh, there would be bruises.

"Are you okay?" Charlie asked her. They were alone in the field. Ashleigh didn't want to get up yet, but the filly was gone, running crazy somewhere. They had to get Wonder before Wonder literally ran into trouble.

"I'll live," Ashleigh grumbled, pushing herself to her feet and brushing the grass off the seat of her pants.

"What the hell kind of riding do you call that?" Charlie said, sitting on Belle and making no move to find their wayward horse.

"She…"

"She did what horses sometimes do," Charlie reprimanded her. "You should have ridden through it."

"I'm sorry," Ashleigh stammered.

"Little good that does," Charlie muttered, turning the mare and stopping when they weren't alone in the field anymore. Ashleigh turned to look at the trail head, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Brad Townsend leading her filly by the reins. He had that infuriating smile on his mouth, the one that Ashleigh wanted to smack right off his face.

He rode up to them, taking his time at a walk while Wonder impatiently stuck her head over his horse's withers, giving all of them the evil eye.

"Look who I came across on the trail," Brad called to them, ambling up while Wonder danced her hindquarters away from his mount, an ever patient riding horse from the family's private stables.

"That's a stroke of luck," Charlie said, spitting on the ground and giving the filly a wary glare. "Knowing that one she's more likely to run into a tree than take the easy way."

Brad's smile widened, stopping the horses next to them and handing Wonder's reins to Ashleigh. "Word to the wise," he said, "keep this one on a short leash. She looks a little flighty."

"Thank you," Ashleigh said, forcing the words out of her mouth. Brad only nodded, the grin becoming a smirk, irritating Ashleigh past the point of politeness. "Although I don't think I asked for your opinion."

That seemed funny, at least to Brad. "So you've moved her up to breezing?" he asked, directing his question to Charlie.

"Light work," Charlie nodded. "I wanted to see if I could get a time out of her this afternoon, however slow."

"Think you'll have another go today?"

"No doubt about it," Charlie said, looking down at Ashleigh, who tried not to make a show of sighing. She was happy they were going to try again. She was. She just didn't want him to see it. Not yet. Not until they were ready to shock him so much he couldn't use any of those condescending, snide comments anymore.

"You ready, Ashleigh?" Charlie asked her, dismounting to give her a leg up into the saddle. Ashleigh nodded, boosted onto Wonder's back, and made a concerted effort to not look at Brad on her way back to their starting point.

When she stopped and turned Wonder, she saw Charlie and Brad sitting on their horses at their makeshift finish line. Both were looking straight at her. One determinedly, one curiously, full of bemusement. Ashleigh set her mouth and waited for the signal.

"Are you ready for this?" she whispered to the filly. Wonder tipped her ears back, hearing the words. "I am."

Charlie dropped his hat, and Ashleigh cued the filly forward. They galloped, veered and shifted, unable to stay straight, but she stayed in the saddle. Wonder, still bewildered about the purpose of it all, did as asked and little more. They made it to the marker, one baby step completed, far from shocking anyone.