His Father's Legacy

         Sitting inside the office, John stared out the window at the surrounding farm. The sun reflected off the silky coat of the black Arabian in the nearest corral. He was the newest stud purchased for the farm. Named Midnight for his luminous black-blue coat, he was sure to be a welcome addition. John finalized Midnight’s purchase the week his father died.

         He inherited the farm after his father’s death in May and with it the responsibility of keeping accurate records. He hated paperwork. Between payroll and updating sales records he rarely had time to help Richard train the horses. Before his father’s death he spent eight to ten hours a day overseeing the horse training. He missed the horses.

         He dragged his gaze from the window and focused on the stack of bills on the desk. The farm was financially sound but in order to stay there he would need to hire a business manager. He didn’t have the patience to sit at this desk day after day reviewing sales records and paying the bills. He sighed, picked up the disk containing last month’s sales figures and crammed it into the disk drive. The computer whirred and the figures popped up on the monitor. His eyes moved from column to column trying to make sense of the numbers.

         After several hours of rearranging numbers on the screen he clicked on save and shut down the computer. The sun was setting and his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten in several hours. He shut the door to the office and headed toward the house. Midnight whinnied drawing his attention to the corral. He stopped, staring at the horse, bursts of fire gleaming off his coat from the setting sun. John drew in a deep breath. The air was filled with the smells of horse, manure and hay, a powerful mix.

         He hadn’t ridden in several days and the urge was overwhelming. Guided by need, he headed for the stables. As he saddled his horse, Bob, the tomcat that frequented the barn, wound around his ankles. Cinching the saddle in place, he reached down to give the cat a pet receiving a purr in exchange. He led his horse out of the stable, Bob scurrying ahead.

         He jumped into the saddle and set out to catch the setting sun at a fast trot. He rounded the corner and waved to Richard as he headed into the hills. As he left the ranch behind, the sounds of birds chirping goodnight to one another replaced the whinnies of horses doing the same.

         This was John’s favorite trail through the mountains. He rode this trail for the first time as a boy alongside his father bouncing along hanging onto the saddle for dear life. His mare was gentle, walking slowly and navigating the trail with experience. He could picture his father’s face, filled with pride, as his son grew more confident in his riding. Horses were important to his father and he wanted his son to understand and embrace the farm and his way of life. John had not disappointed him. From the first moment he laid eyes on a horse, he was enamored. Their beauty only overshadowed by their strength.

         He started training horses on his fifteenth birthday. His dad paired him up with an experienced trainer to learn the trade. At fifteen he thought he knew everything and it was difficult for Richard to teach him to be a trainer. He didn’t listen and learned everything the hard way. He was kicked, tossed and bruised and battered by many horses before he learned to listen to the experienced trainer.

         Finally he had learned enough to train a horse on his own. His father purchased Starlight as a colt from a fellow breeder and brought him to the farm on John’s seventeenth birthday. He was beautiful but was high-strung as are most Arabians. John was allowed to train him without input from his father or Richard. He was confident he was up to the task but when left alone with the horse for the first time, filled with doubt. He took the training one step at a time and the finishing result was a well-trained Arabian and the approval of both Richard and his father.

         The soft whinny from his horse brought him back to the present. The mountains lay in shadows, sleeping for the night. He knew he should return to the farm but couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. Looking out over the mountain, John thought of his father’s last days. He was diagnosed with lung cancer shortly after his sixty-fourth birthday.

         The cancer had spread to the bone by the time the symptoms were evident. Never one to seek medical care, his father delayed visiting the doctor for several months after the coughing started. The doctors had no hope to offer to either John or his dad. The progress was quick, the cancer taking his father’s life in three short weeks. In that time, John watched his father’s health fade and his love of life disappear.

         John wiped a tear from his cheek as he turned the horse back toward the farm. His father was gone but would never be forgotten. He left his legacy and love for horses with his son and John would not let him down. He would place an ad in the papers for a business manager in the morning and get on with the business of raising the horses his father loved.