A lovely story for readers of any age, Emerson was the first book that I published. It takes the reader to Loafing Hills horse farm, located in the foothills of Sugarloaf Mountain in Maryland. Here, the reader will enjoy the visit with the farm family and their horses.
Emerson was a handful for Carol Spencer to break, train, school and show. She persisted, enjoying exciting experiences with her wonderful horse. I promise, you'll enjoy this story.
Emerson begins at a horse sale in North Carolina. Carol Spencer and her dad, Ned, were looking to buy a horse for her. Here they found and purchased a three year old unbroken, rather ungainly gelding named “Emerson.” Carol was thrilled...Her dad was not. He tried his best to talk her out of getting him, but fourteen-year-old Carol was mesmerized by this animal. Ned gave in.
Emerson is shipped to Loafing Hills Farm, whereupon Carol works diligently getting Emerson in shape and broke to ride. This story goes on to cover many years of schooling and showing. It presents horseshows, parties, weddings and adventures, including tragedies and triumphs, with a surprising and uplifting conclusion. This is a novel based on true experiences, readers of any age will enjoy it.
Excerpt from...
Chapter One
Carol Spencer, blue eyed and golden haired, circled a big, lanky bay gelding whom its seller called Emerson.
At fourteen, Carol was already an experienced rider, but this awkward creature was like nothing she had ever seen. Would this horse be one she would be proud of having at Loafing Hills, her father Ned's farm in the Blue Ridge range in Maryland?
Her father inspected the animal and shook his head. "That's the saddest looking thing on four hooves, Carol, are you sure you ought to consider it?"
The thin, gray-haired man who was showing the colt handed the leadrope (shank) to Carol. The large, fifteen-three-hand horse attached to it observed her curiously and nudged her.
Carol and her father, Ned Spencer, had been on a trip to Georgia to visit his parents when she spied the sign:
HORSES FOR SALE
"Oh, Dad!" she had exclaimed. "Let's go in and find out what they have to offer. You promised me a horse for myself. They just might have what I'm looking for."
"Well, all right," he had said reluctantly, "but don't you realize we're a long way from home? Anything you get would have to be shipped back."
She laughed. "Of course. We wouldn't ask any poor thing to walk all the way back to Maryland!"
Mr. Spencer smiled warmly. His daughter was dear to him because she was his only family since her mother had lost her life in an auto accident when Carol was only three. He had raised her under the care of Mrs. Donavan, their housekeeper at Loafing hills Farm. From the time Carol was nine, her father, Ned, had made a business of buying and selling horses. These incuded racehorses. He purchased them from racetracks and retrained them as hunters or pleasure horses. He developed a good market for them and had a brisk trade. Loafing Hills' animals earned fame for their soundness and performance. The work was rewarding, and the Spencers found it interesting and satisfying.
Carol had begun taking riding lessons at the age of ten from a very experienced equitation teacher. She had become a very good, experienced rider, and she dearly wanted a horse of her own.
When Carol saw Emerson, she was immediately intrigued. Though the ungainly colt was only three, his bones were so prominint that he looked misshapen. His belly was distended like an overloaded sack, making his dark coat that rippled over his wide-set ribs, appear to have a washboard effect.
Ned Spencer asked, "What do you see in him, Carol?"
"I think he shows promise." She stroked his nose. It was velvety smooth under her affectionate touch.
"You sure have a lot of faith," her father said.
"Anyone who believes in horses has a lot of faith," Carol replied.
"Umm," Ned murmured. "I dunno, Carol."
"Oh, Dad! Come on now!" She walked the horse a dozen paces. "How do you like his gait?"
"He moves nicely. Shuffles, stumbles, and is about to fall," he joked. "Better hang on to him. He may need you to hold him up."
"Oh, stop, Dad," Carol laughed. "Probably he has more worms than an acre of ground, but a dose of medicine and a diet of grain will put him in condition. He'll be beautiful!"