Figments & Fragments

Betsy's Horse

“She’s a beautiful mare,” Jeanine said into her phone. “You should come see for yourself. She’s a nine-year-old chestnut with a black mane and tail. Her name is Ginger.”

“I don’t know,” Greg replied doubtfully. “Riding lessons are one thing, but actually buying a horse? I don’t think we can afford it.”

Jeanine was leaning against the stall, watching proudly as her daughter helped Mr. Jenkins groom Ginger. The small mare nickered softly, enjoying the feel of the curry comb on her glossy hide.

“It wouldn’t cost as much as you think, Greg. Her owner passed away last month and there aren’t any heirs. Mr. Jenkins says the estate lawyer just wants a quick sale. He’d buy Ginger himself, but he knows how much Betsy wants a horse. He’ll even give us a discount on boarding her. And we could offset the boarding fee by letting other kids ride her.”

“Jenkins should mind his own business.”

“Mr. Jenkins is just trying to be nice. Please, Greg, at least think about it. Betsy doesn’t have a grandpa and she seems to have a real bond with Mr. Jenkins. I think it would be good for both of them.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it. But don’t say anything to Betsy. I don’t want her to be upset if the answer is no.”

“Oh, Daddy, Ginger is so pretty,” Betsy gushed, talking a mile a minute. “Mr. Jenkins let me ride her today and we’re the same age and I’m tall enough and she’s so gentle and I gave her an apple after and she really likes me.”

“Slow down, Betsy, you’ll choke on your mashed potato. There are more important things than horses. We’ll talk about Ginger after supper.”

“But, Daddy, Ginger needs me. Mr. Jenkins says I’m her only friend. Please, Daddy, please?”

Greg looked into the pleading eyes of his wife and daughter and conceded defeat.

“Alright, we can talk to Mr. Jenkins tomorrow and see if Ginger is still for sale.”

“Um, about that,” Jeanine took some papers out of her purse. “All we really need is a check.”

“So, my opinion didn’t really matter?” Greg smiled wryly. “The three of you had this all worked out, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to act quickly,” Jeanine said defensively. “So, I talked the lawyer into taking a deposit. The sales contract is null and void if we don’t pay the balance by the end of the month. It’s still up to you, dear, the deposit was only a hundred dollars, that’s all it would cost to say no.”

“Somehow, I think it would cost me a lot more than that,” Greg smiled. “I guess we’ll figure out some way to fit it into the budget. Maybe we can give up ice cream and mocha lattes.”

“Oh, Daddy, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t ever eat ice cream again!”

“That was a mean trick, Greg. Do you know that Betsy hasn’t had ice cream all summer? And she glares at me whenever I stop for coffee.”

“I’m sorry, honey, I’ll tell Betsy I was joking. About the ice cream anyway. Sacrifices must be made, you know. Ow!”

Greg rubbed his shoulder where Jeanine had punched him. Their mock battle had quickly turned into a make-up cuddle that was well worth the pain. And he had to admit that the other horse play had also turned out well. Who would have thought that Betsy would become a weekend riding instructor at the tender age of ten? Or that Jeanine would turn her photography hobby into a successful business? And who would have guessed that pony portraiture could even be a thing?


Author's note: ▼

Winner of the May 22, 2023 round of the The Writer's Cramp - Poetry Week 

Prompt - Write a story using the following words.

chestnut
nine-year-old
null
black
portraiture

611 words