Current Affairs (Tiara Investigations Mysteries) by Lane Stone

it.”
    All of a sudden I was smiling, and I could feel them smiling, too. “Goodnight, Ladies.”

 
     
     
     
    Six
     
    C ontinuation of statement by Leigh Reed. On Sunday morning I woke up early, and Abby and I were out the door. The day was perfect for my little black Jeep, top off. I belted Abby into her canine seat belt, then backed out. The CD from my last drive was Spanish neo-flamenco. I listened to “ Ley de Gravedad ,” or law of gravity, by one of my favorite groups, Ojos De Brujo . The stable was a forty-minute drive north of home. I wore breeches, shirt, and a jacket, and I had thrown my open front shin boots in the back seat. I would wear those for jumping. In my bag I had my hunt cap and the rest of my paraphernalia.   I called ahead, and Georgia Clay, my chestnut thoroughbred, was ready when I turned down the gravel drive. Sure, chestnut is one of the most common coat colors, but there are many shades. My guy is copper red. The first week I owned him I came to the stable every day and watched him walk, trot and canter. I memorized his gait.   Then I rode him, and later I moved up to leading him.
    I turned away the barn manager when he approached with a mounting block. Being a talented man, but of few words, he put it away with a smile. After petting Abby, who was outside the arena watching, he walked off. I slowly lowered my weight onto the saddle, thinking ahhhh . That’s how right it felt.
    We walked around for a few minutes just getting on the same wavelength. He talked to me all the time, and he was absorbing information from me, too. I had to be aware of what my movements were saying to him. I know the power of positive thinking in horseback riding. I didn’t want to be inadvertently telling him what to do wrong. I sat in the deepest part of the saddle and imagined myself part of his movement. For flat work we practiced transitions, because if you can’t do flat work, or don’t want to, you can’t jump. First, halt to walk to halt. Then walk to trot to walk. Next, walk to canter and then canter to trot. Canter to halt. Canter to walk with half-halts. Last walk to canter with half-halts. Then it was time for jumping.
    I dismounted and placed a single pole on the ground. Then I raised my stirrups up a hole and mounted. I picked out a focal point in line with the center stripe on the rail.   Always, I was looking where I wanted to go, keeping my technique simple.   We crossed the pole with movements simple and efficient.
    I dismounted again and put another pole two feet high between a couple of posts. Since horses look at jumps from the ground up, I left the first post for a ground line. Back on Georgia Clay, I had my heels under my butt and down. I pushed down on my knees. With noninterference we moved forward, sharing one center of gravity.   We cantered to the railing, and suddenly I was flying. We landed, and I brought him back to a trot and repeated the jump. Later I added a second fence, and later still we rode the course as a figure eight. Finally it was time to cool down—or rather to come off our high.
    Back in the car with my water bottle I sat and checked in with my emotions. The morning out here had cleared my head. I knew I was avoiding thinking about something, and I knew what it was. My work had added meaning to my life, but what was it doing to my relationship with my husband? Where was my center of gravity now? You have to know that in horseback riding, hell, in life. Was mine with Tiara Investigations or with my husband?   And then the strangest thing happened. I felt at peace. Like it was okay. I could fly with the agency, but my marriage would be my focal point. Sure, it was still an open question, but for now it was all good.
    From there I went shopping for a digital camera.   I accelerated onto Highway 20 in the direction of the Mall of Georgia. The road is lined with shops, and I swear, you can’t throw a stick without hitting a restaurant.
    After a while I noticed