Chapter 3 –And Now I Want To Be Alone

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or added this story to story alert. Your reactions and words really help I am getting married in just over two weeks, so my time is a little crunched at the moment, but I am working on chapter four as I write this, and I hope to have it out soon. Thanks so much!

I stared stubbornly at the plastic step stool by the arena fence. Jasper had told me the week before that it was called a mounting block. Today he hadn't spoken a word to me since he'd made a scene in front of Rosalie.

I gave a gentle tug on Trojan's reins, and walked toward the block with steady determination. The unruffled pony kept up without complaint. He'd been here and done this so many times that I figured a bomb could go off next to him and he wouldn't blink.

Jasper scrutinised me from his vantage point in the centre of the freshly raked ring, and I silently willed Trojan to be on his best behaviour. I had to get this right today.

When I had stopped Trojan at the plastic block, I quickly hurried to check his girth on the side where Jasper couldn't see my face. As soon as I was invisible to Jasper's caustic gaze, I ran my hand across Trojan's satiny shoulder and willed him to be perfect. I tried to check the tightness of the girth with as little effort as I'd seen Jasper manage it earlier. The broad leather piece was quite similar to a belt, and while I had at first balked at the idea of tightening Trojan's horsey belt so much that I couldn't fit two fingers between it and his side, falling on my butt had changed my mind drastically.

"Do you need help with that?" Jasper asked from across the ring. His voice was not at all concerned.

"No," I practically growled, my teeth clenched painfully. I could do this, and I could do it without his help.

Jasper didn't make a sound, but I could feel the arrogance radiating across the open space.

This of course, did nothing for my already tenuous confidence, but I continued to attempt to convince myself that I was the victor in this situation.

Trojan kept up with his constant stream of patience as he stood perfectly still while I carried on my silly internal debate. When I'd finally decided that enough was enough, I grabbed a handful of his course mane in my left hand, stuck my right hand on the back on the saddle, and shoved my left foot into the metal stirrup. After a few awkward hops, I managed to swing myself into the saddle without a complete lack of grace.

I was ecstatic. I had done it; I had conquered some part of this world! Maybe not on my first try, but certainly quicker than I imagined it must take some people. I quickly looked over in Jasper's direction to grin triumphantly.

He wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to my sensational success. "Walk around the perimeter of the ring, make sure he stays on the rail; don't let him cut in," he barked out in his no nonsense teaching voice.

I wondered if he'd ever made little kids cry before. I wanted so badly to make a smart-assed comment, but felt like I had lost my voice. Instead I reached my hand down and scratched Trojan's neck slightly, trying my hardest not to let my frustration and disbelief become visible. Then again, I was pretty sure Jasper had some sort of super hero power that sensed fear.

I gritted my teeth in annoyance and concentration, and gathered the leather reins up in my hands. I tried to sit up as straight as I could, and I firmly commanded Trojan to begin walking. I tried to synchronize squeezing both of my legs against the stubborn pony's sides, and he grudgingly moved off the pressure.

I felt another surge of pride at myself, but was quickly distracted as I remembered how complicated riding really was. I was relieved that I had been graced with natural balance and coordination.

As I continued around the ring, I proceeded to get lost further and further in thought. I was enjoying everything I was learning, enjoying the stead rhythm of the horse beneath me.

The insecurities and reservations that I had about the whole endeavour revolved around Jasper and his affinity for making people feel like complete shit.

There was a part of me that wanted to turn tail and run. I didn't want to be in a situation where I consistently felt worse about myself than usual. At the same time though, I'd gone my whole life without ever really accomplishing anything. Every whim I'd ever tried to act on had ended in a less than spectacular way. I figured finished six weeks of lessons was the best compromise I could possibly come up with. I could successfully finish my course of lessons, learn something new – something that I enjoyed quite a bit – and I supposed I could deal with Jasper for that long.

"Alice!" Jasper called across the ring.

His sharp, sudden voice surprised me, and Trojan executed a swift stop at my body's abrupt tenseness.

"Change direction and come back to the centre!"

I attempted to collect my thoughts, and focused on delivering the correct cues to the indifferent pony beneath me. As Trojan plodded across the neatly raked sand, I felt a comical parallel to the one time I'd been called to the principal's office in high school. The walk of shame, such interesting comparisons I came up with.

Jasper watched me studiously as I attempted to wipe the image from my mind and the amused look on my face.

"Something funny?" he asked in a clipped tone that told me something had better not be funny at all.

I couldn't stand him. I desperately tried to think of something to say, some witty retort, but the words just wouldn't come.

When my voice did return, I let myself down, and all I could muster was a bland, "Nothing at all."

Jasper turned away and barked out a command for me to continue around the ring.

I ducked my head and tried to keep the teardrops in my eyes. There was no way I could keep doing this, I hadn't been made to feel like this in years and I had made a promise to not revisit those times.

I smiled with satisfaction, pleased with myself for successfully getting Trojan back in his stall. He looked at me much like he always did, with hay hanging out of his mouth and a bored expression. I grinned and blew him a kiss, which he predictably didn't respond to.

As soon as I turned to walk back to my car, I reached for my phone and realised it wasn't in its home in my pocket. I tried to control my racing mind long enough to attempt to remember where I had last placed it. Racing through the activities I had done and the places I had been during the day, I remembered with relief that I had placed it on one of the storage containers lining the barn when I'd met Rosalie.

Shit. The barn. The other barn. The one that Jasper had explicitly told me I wasn't welcome in.

But I needed my phone. Bella had been cursed with an inability to walk more than a few feet without messing it up, and my shortcoming had been a penchant for losing cell phones. I absolutely did not want to walk into the house with my phone again; Edward had a better father guilt routine than my actual father.

While I tried to push down the feelings of apprehension, I marched my sore little self into the barn that was forbidden. I tried not to let my nerves overcome me, and I hoped Rosalie would still be standing in the aisle.

The barn was, of course, absolutely empty when I ventured in. I couldn't hear a single sound as I crept into a side door. My plan had been that a side door approach would give me more of a chance of seeing people in the barn before I could be spotted.

I cracked a smile when my plan appeared to work as I tip-toed around the quiet barn.

The intense organisation of the barn had me distracted, so when a horse snorted directly to my right, I gasped so fast that I almost choked on my breath. I managed not to fall ass-over-teakettle and regain proper breathing; I hoped no one had witnessed or heard my retardation. I was a massive espionage fail. It was a good thing I had always favoured Porsches over Aston Martins.

Dragging myself out of my ridiculous inner musings, I caught sight of the horse and nearly choked again.

She was the most magnificent horse I'd ever seen. Her face was so refined and feminine that I couldn't imagine her being anything but a girl. Her soft doe eyes appraised me quietly.

'Come here, gorgeous,' I whispered, holding my hand out and instinctively stepped toward the stall door.

The rich brown colour of her coat melted perfectly into black around her eyes, ears, and muzzle. There was a perfectly symmetrical strip of white that came down her the middle of her face, starting above her eyes and disappearing under her lip. The bit of white between her nostrils showed pink skin, and when I reached my hand out I was amazed at how soft it was.

The horse lost interest with me, and retreated back into her stall, dragging her nose through the yellow hay that filled her stall. I was so reminded of a bloodhound hot on the trail that I had to throw my hand over my mouth to contain the giggles.

When I was no longer shaking from squelched laughter, I became captivated once again by the horse. She seemed to be nothing but long legs, and her body was perfectly proportioned. Flashes of white caught my eye from her legs as she continued to circle her stall. She looked like an athlete, and I could easily have seen her as a human gymnast.

As I lounged against the stall door, admiring the horse, I noticed her halter hanging by the stall door and froze. There was a shining brass nameplate screwed into the leather piece, and the top line told me that her name was Chavalina. The second line read Jasper Whitlock.

This was Jasper's horse.

I shook off the shock and turned to continue looking for my phone. I was semi-terrified that Jasper would show up again in the barn, and not so gently escort me out. My thought wandered then to Jasper's horse. I wondered when he rode her, and what they did. I could see him being knowledgeable enough to ride effectively, but I didn't see him possessing an ounce of the empathy that I thought riding required.

As I turned the corner of the barn, I was both relieved and dismayed to see that the wide aisle was empty. I'd hoped that Rosalie would still be there and that she'd both have my phone and my back in case of a Jasper sighting.

"Damn," I whispered to myself before I made my way down to check each trunk for my missing phone.

When I had gotten halfway down the row of stalls, a quiet voice called out, "Are you looking for this?" I was effectively scared half to death for the second time in ten minutes.

"Whadya want!" I gasped, clutching my chest and whirling to face my intruder.

She was a sweet looking woman with caramel hair, and she was holding my phone in her hand.

"Jesus Christ at a corn husking bee!" I wheezed out, still holding my hand over my heart and trying to breathe normally.

The woman laughed cheerfully, and I felt instantly more at ease. She continued holding the phone out until I felt silly and took it.

"Thanks," I mumbled, and then added, "I'm not supposed to be in here, I'd better go."

The woman chuckled again, more sincere this time, "And who told you that?"

I looked down at my shoes, and answered, "Jasper."

This time she laughed more uproariously. I couldn't help but crack a small smile. When she had gotten her mirth under control she said, "Jasper Whitlock has a huge stick up his ass sometimes, he shouldn't behave the way he sometimes does, even if he has a halfway decent reason to be angry; don't let him get to you."

I threw my hand over my mouth to quench the laughter, but really my mind was whirling over the new information. I guess I had supposed in some way that there was some sort of reason, I had already decided that he wasn't completely a lost cause. I wanted to ask Esme more, to grill her on everything Jasper, but I wanted her friendship more than I wanted to pry. "I'm Alice Brandon," I announced, holding my hand out to her once my glee had been sufficiently suppressed, "I think I really like you."

The woman smiled brightly, her heart shaped face lighting up. "Esme Platt," she responded, grasping my hand in hers and shaking, "it's nice to meet you." As she was speaking, a copper coloured nose appeared over Esme's shoulder and I grinned.

"Who's this?" I asked, pointing to the newest arrival.

Esme placed a kiss on the horse's nose and happily told me, "This is Guinevere. Gwen for short."

I reached out a hand to pet Gwen's face and smiled, "she's beautiful."

Thank you,' Esme answered, stroking Gwen's face lovingly. "I've had her since I was a teenager. She's the best friend I've ever had."

I smiled warmly. "I don't think I've ever had a friend last that long. People always seem pretty fickle." In truth, I felt pretty desolate when Esme talked about her horse. I'd had friends in high school, and I'd made friends in college, but no one had ever stuck. The closest things I had to friends were Edward and Bella, and even that was an often tenuous relationship.

I realised that I had been so excited to begin riding because I was eager to be a part of something; to have a place. So far it hadn't worked at all: Jasper was a moody ass and Trojan was so ambivalent it was almost depressing. Rosalie and Esme gave me a ray of hope to grasp onto, but such things had let me down before. I wondered if I would ever find myself in a partnership with a horse. I'd never seen Rosalie or Esme ride, so I really had nothing to base my musings on, but I figured they were each an equal part of their respective horses. I found myself desperately wanting that connection.

Suddenly I pulled myself out of my reverie and noticed Esme looking at me with an anticipatory and devilish grin. "Glad you could re-join us here on Planet Earth."

My smile was tinged with embarrassment when I answered, "Sorry. I spaced out there for a bit."

"I'll say," Esme chuckled; looking at me like she knew there was more happening than what I was letting on.

"So what do you do with Gwen?" I asked brightly, trying to quickly and thoroughly change the subject.

Esme's face changed brightly in preparation of a conversation centred on her beloved horse, but I wasn't foolish enough to think I was off the hook.

"Mainly we just pleasure ride these days," Esme answered, reaching back to scratch under Gwen's muzzle. "But we've gotten into driving in the last few years. You know, like pulling a cart. We used to be a lot more active, back when she was a lot quicker and more agile and I was fearless and bounced better. I used to compete with her regularly, but we've slowed down a lot."

"Compete?" I asked confused. "Compete in what?"

"Oh, we mainly did eventing. It's the sport they feature in the summer Olympics. It basically descends from the old cavalry days, it showcases the training those horses had to go through. I'll show you all about it one day. I promise," she winked at me when she had finished talking, and I found myself even more impressed by her friendly attitude.

"Wow, that's pretty exciting," I answered, and truly I was in awe. I couldn't imagine willingly sitting in a carriage that was strapped to a horse, or training for cavalry anything.

"Yeah, she's a pretty remarkable mare." Esme was still looking at Gwen adoringly. I was amazed to see that Gwen had not moved from her spot at Esme's shoulder during our conversation. Her devotion reminded me of the Lassie re-runs I'd watched as a child.

"Wait, what's a mare?" I asked suddenly, hating it when I didn't know the meaning of a word.

Esme looked at me curiously, but easily answered, "A mare is a female horse that's full grown, usually older than four or five. A filly is a female under four or five."

"Oh," I said, feeling stupid all over again. "What do you call the boys?"

Esme chortled, but seemed genuinely happy to be teaching me something. "A colt is a young male, a stallion is an older male, and a gelding is a…well, a not-quite-a-boy, of any age."

"That's easy enough to remember, I think," I replied, trying not to feel overwhelmed at how much there was to learn.

"Don't worry," Esme told me reassuringly, "you'll be picking up the lingo before you know it. You'll be talking about cavessons and cavalettis sooner than you know."

I didn't know what either of the terms meant, and I hoped it wouldn't be too much longer until I did know. "Here's hoping," I told her, holding a hand up and intertwining two of my fingers.

"Well, it was lovely meeting you, Alice," Esme said finally, reaching for a lead rope that hung on Gwen's door, "but I've got to get this girl out for exercise and I'm sure you're anxious to get home."

I quickly looked down at the clock on my phone and was surprised to realise I would be at least an hour later getting home than I'd told Edward and Bella. "Crap," I muttered, "yeah I do need to get going. Hopefully I'll see you around here though."

"Yes, I'll be here," Esme told me before adding, "and keep your chin up, Alice. Jasper has his own scars, even if they're invisible to the rest of us, but don't give up too quickly. Things have a way of working out in the best way for everyone."

So, what do you guys think Jasper is up to?