Chapter 1

Prologue

Firecross was already galloping up the church aisle.

It was too late to rethink how I should have planned the Lord’s Day: with my horse running loose inside God’s House, things weren’t looking favorable for a punctual arrival at my dressage competition later that morning. 1: The Initial Dilemma

I’d been asked to set up the show arena the previous day. I’m not good at many things, but over the years I’ve become quite the guru at measuring out the dressage rectangle and telling people where to put the letters, cones and boundary chain.

Ergo, I’m in huge demand during show season. (But not, I’ve noticed, when dressage teams are being picked.)

However, the other volunteers and I couldn’t begin on time because a Saturday jumper show was running late in the arena we needed to prepare for our Sunday shindig. The horses and their fences weren’t even out of there until 4 P.M.

Normally we’d be finished by that hour. And since the clocks had just changed to winter time, darkness descended early. We’d have to work really fast.

This caused an additional problem for yours truly: I was going to miss the 5 P.M. Saturday Vigil Mass, and would have to go on Sunday instead. The schedule would be very tight: my first dressage test was in the morning, with another in the afternoon. Which Mass could I fit in?

One option was to attend the early morning service, rush home, hook up the trailer, load the horse and hurry to make that first class.

I could have scratched that A.M. ride—it would have made my life easier. But this was the last show of the season, and I really, reallywanted to compete in both classes. After all, I hadset up the arena, so it was only fair I get to ride twice!

The plan’s success depended on my getting to church on time in the morning.

As predicted, I and my team finished putting up the dressage arena in the murky light of dusk on Saturday and it was completely dark by the time I got home.

I fed Wooster, my English bulldog, and let him out to do his business. Next, I dragged my weary feet down to the barn to feed the horses.

Thankfully I’d had the presence of mind to clean my tack earlier that afternoon and put it in the trailer. It was one thing less to worry about in the morning.

Over reheated macaroni and cheese I went through my options for the next day and scribbled three plans on a paper napkin:

Get up early, go to Mass, rush home, hitch up trailer, load horse and go.

Get up earlier, hitch trailer and take it to Mass.

Try and make Mass after the show.

(Note for readers who don’t understand my dilemma:it’s imperative that we Catholics keep the Sabbath holy, unless we have a very good reason. Horse shows don’tcount as a good reason, according to my parish priest.)

I closed my eyes and stabbed the tissue with my right forefinger.

When I opened them a dirty fingernail was resting on: “Get up earlier, hitch trailer and take it to Mass.”

Darn it! Ihate getting up early as it is: earlieris even worse. Once more I poked the napkin with my eyes shut, hoping for a better answer.

But that forefinger rested stubbornly on “Get up earlier, hitch trailer and take it to Mass.”

Okay—best out of five!

No dice. Even when I moved the napkin to improve my odds, the third answer was the same.

Best out of seven?

But if I carried on this way I’d be here all night, and I needed to rest before tomorrow. Go to bed,I told myself. God has chosen this option. Tough!

First I packed my show apparel in the blue tote with Firecross’s Mom embroidered across it in curly white letters.

Next I laid out my church clothes and set the alarm for 5:30 A.M. before laying me down to sleep. Rising at that hour would give me time to feed the horses, hitch the trailer and be on time for the 8 o’clock Mass. 2: The Dilemma Goes Forth & Multiplies

On the bedcovers the next morning Wooster rolled onto his back, and his sudden snoring woke me. I checked the clock.

Six A.M. Eeeek!!What happened to my 5:30 A.M. alarm?

I rushed through my ablutions, threw on my clothes and tossed food into Wooster’s bowl. Leaving the back door open for the chubby hound to complete his own morning routine, I drove the fifty yards to the barn and fed the two waiting horses.

I held the hay at arm’s length while distributing it to my equine pals, to prevent any stray wisps from landing on my Sunday best.

The next task was to hitch my Expedition to the trailer. I studied the rear view camera as I reversed the vehicle, and heard that satisfying clunk!assuring me that I had aligned the tow bar and trailer hitch perfectly.