One Glorious Ambition Read Online Free PDF

two friends.
    “I’ve only made the acquaintance with cart horses.”
    “And a fine family line those old cart horses descend from.”
    Dorothea had not thought much about the lineage of horses, but she said, “Yes. Predictable, hardworking, and usually gentle with children.”
    He lifted a bushy eyebrow. “All attributes of a good wife.”
    Dorothea laughed. “Oh, Mr. Frank. What would your wife say to such a comparison?”
    “I have no wife.”
    “Your boldness suggests why.”
    Her instructor laughed, his bearded mouth an O of delight. “I think we shall have a good time at your lessons, Miss Dix. Shall we begin?”
    The mare chosen for her was named Mercy. She stood firm while Mr. Frank walked Dorothea around the animal, let her run her hands down the legs and gently pick up the hoof to show her how to check for small stones or wounds that might have been overlooked. He had Dorothea stand in front and breathe into the horse’s nostrils and let Mercy breathe back at her.
    “That’s how she’ll remember you,” he told her as she stroked the mare’s velvet nose.
    When he thought she was ready, Mr. Frank assisted Dorothea into the saddle and straightened her skirts around the sidesaddle’s hook.
    Mr. Frank pointed out that Mercy kept her head straight, didn’t brush back to nip at Dorothea’s knee nor lay her ears back with the knowledge that a novice was in the saddle. Instead, the horse, led by Mr. Frank, walked straight into a small paddock area where Dorothea was led around until she recognized what Mr. Frank told her to be aware of: the subtle movement of the horse’s ears, the shift in pace if Dorothea leaned forward or held the reins too tightly. She felt like a baby bird perched high in a nest, a bird that could be pushed off in a moment.
    “A light hand is always best,” her instructor told her when she pulled on the reins and the horse lifted her head and stopped. “Never pull too hard. You’re charming her in a way, letting her gain confidence that you know what you’re doing. Once that message is communicated, the two of you will form a bond not likely broken. Are you feeling secure enough to let me release my hand?”
    Dorothea nodded though her heart pounded. She licked her lips and tightened her grip on the reins. She thought of nothing else except staying on.
    Mr. Frank let loose his hand, and Mercy picked up her pace. Dorothea shifted slightly. She became aware of herself in the presence of power, the give and take of movement between rider andhorse. She looked ahead at the trees outside the paddock, heard Mary and her friends laughing in the distance. She had no desire to join them. Riding Mercy was enough. Feeling the strength of the animal and knowing that her hands sent signals through the reins gave her comfort though she didn’t know why.
    She pulled back on the reins then, and the horse sidestepped and shook her big head, the bit rattling like loose chains against a steel door. Mercy halted, then danced around, pitching Dorothea forward. Her hands grew wet and she hoped she wasn’t sending messages of fright to the horse that danced to the other side now, twisting her head at her rider. Dorothea tried to remember if she should let loose or hold tighter, then the horse leaped forward.
    Dorothea chewed at her lip. She moved her knees, movement that seemed to confuse Mercy into a trot. Dorothea was off balance, grabbing at the mane with one hand. She held the reins tighter, both in one hand now instead of one rein in each.
    “Lighten your hand!” Mr. Frank shouted. “You’re giving her too many messages!”
    Yes, a lighter touch
. Against her instincts, Dorothea lowered her hands and loosened the reins. Immediately, Mercy slowed to a gentle walk, and Dorothea’s heart stopped beating at its rushing rate.
    “I’m so sorry, so sorry.”
    Mercy twisted her head around at the sound of her voice, and Dorothea saw the long lashes flutter before she turned back. The mare walked