Lexington Horse Painting With Groom Novels & Stories

Like Baldur, they were Amish buggy horses, worked to the bone and tossed aside once they couldn’t perform their job anymore. Bailey, a pretty paint horse, is Aunt Kim’s Quarter Horse. She bought him from an auction fifteen years ago as a colt and had to bottle feed him. I spend a week of my summer helping out with him when I was a teenager. It was my last summer before Everly was born. “Who’s that?” I ask, pointing at a pretty palomino grazing near Bailey. “That’s Penny,” Aunt Kim says. “Her owners help out around here in exchange for free board.”

There was no way to say no to that face. She grinned and reached over to her tools, handing him the curry comb. “You're in luck. The mucking is done. But the horses do need to be groomed.” Jace grinned, momentarily dazzling her with his smile as he reached for the comb. His fingers connected with hers and for a moment, the world stopped spinning. Heat sizzled up from her toes, around her spine, and back down again. Ella blushed, pulling back and pointing to the second stall with a white horse head poking out. “That's Commander.” She hoped he didn't notice the husky quality her voice had suddenly taken on, or the way her heart was thudding in her chest from their brief contact.

Alexander said with a little smile. An hour later, the Beaumonts were riding hard along the sixty-two acres of the grounds. Julian rode his favorite reddish-brown mustang as he sported black riding pants, riding boots, and a blue shirt. Cassandra had mounted her favorite brown Thoroughbred. Alexander rode a palomino. He had to keep blocking out the memory of him and the duchess riding palominos along the beach in The Keys. The last thing he wanted was his family to notice something was off with him. The head of the family rode Champ, a blacker than black stallion that had won several horseshows in his heyday. They raced to the big oak tree that had been on the estate for fifty-two years. The

The air smelled of horses and hay, a scent I had come to associate with Alex. As I rounded the rustic barn, the sun dipped low, casting a warm golden hue over the landscape. There he was, a familiar silhouette in one of the round pens, moving with a patience that felt both mesmerizing and deeply comforting. Inside the pen, a wild palomino filly shifted nervously, her shimmering coat catching the light while her large, expressive eyes darted around. Alex’s voice was low and steady, coaxing her with soft words that resonated in the stillness of the evening.

Sam stuck her tongue out at Dani as she continued grooming Bourbon, “What’s the worse thing that could happen?” Kevin shook his head and gave Dani a knowing look as he turned and started back to the porch. “That’s what I’m afraid of” he murmured. He sat on the porch, leaning back in one of the rocking chairs as he watched the girls going through their routine. Kevin watched the girls finish their horses, load them into the trailer, along with two others, a black leopard Appaloosa named Harley Quinn and a blue roan Quarter Horse named Rebel. Sam ran up to the porch, and hugged her father closely kissing his cheek before she stood up.

"He's pure Arabian. My one extravagant purchase." He reached over and rubbed the horse's shiny black nose before fastening on a rope halter. "Can't quite trust this guy to take himself straight to the pasture. He's been known to take off." Jenny followed along as Cole led the animal to the pasture and closed the gate before removing the halter. When he did, the horse whinnied loudly and cantered off toward the other end of the pasture. "We still have one more before we get started, but I thought maybe you might like to learn how to groom a horse. Would you?"

Dad chuckles while lifting me onto a large white draft horse that has a moon and feathers painted in blood on hit’s side. “You look absolutely stunning by the way,” Dad mentions while leading the horse down the road towards the lake. The path his decorated with string lights create a canopy over tables set up near grills. I look towards the lake where everyone is waiting near a pair of birch trees with lights in them. Osric is shirtless showing off his tattoos, wearing a black leather wrap around his hips that’s trimmed in fur, with matching bracers with a long sword on his hip. Embry stands to his right wearing his blue tartan kilt and no weapon while remaining bare chested like Osric.

Rodrigo galloped faster and faster on his horse. He was riding a sprightly mare named Hera. She was stark white and so beautiful. An absolute pleasure to ride. He loved that his stud farm covered acres of land, allowing him to ride for miles without any probing eyes. And he did ride, every single day if possible. His morning rides were the highlight of his days. He stopped Hera at a small little hilltop and gazed over his lands with awe. In the morning sunlight, he could see the farm already in action. Horses grazed in the pastures. Xerxes was training in the special enclosure designed for him. His staff was going about their duties, moving in and out of the various sheds and buildings. He l

Once there, he grinned proudly and let out a loud, “Yee-haw!” “You're up next, Grayson,” Laura told him as she fixed the stirrups to better fit Alexander's long legs. Grayson had the apprehensive look again from the other day. He kept looking up at his horse like she might step on him. Mia patted her horse and started to go to him, but Carter beat her there.

I replied, tousling his brown locks playfully. As we continued our tour of the stables, Dorian introduced me to the various animals that were housed there. From spirited young colts to wise old mares, each had its own unique personality and story. Dorian's passion for these creatures was evident in the way he spoke about them, and I found myself genuinely enjoying our time together. "Here's Nightwing," Dorian said, leading me to a magnificent black mare with a sleek coat. Nightwing, recognizing me, nickered softly and nuzzled my hand.