Gwenonwyn of Aileen

By Cher Griffin

Third in the Marla Mesconti Mystery series, this book tells the tale of Gwenonwyn of Aileen, or "Layla", as she's called, a rare-colored buckskin Gypsy horse. Layla loses her rider on an organized trail ride when a camouflaged hunter steps out from behind a tree. Layla is nowhere to be found but soon, Marla is called in to help when Layla is found in a pond miles away from the ride. Can Marla and her friends along with Rick Wassel, her police-force boyfriend, find out who did this heinous crime?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781682224762

Book preview

21

Chapter 1

Tally ho, piccolos! shouted the leader of a gaggle of giggling girls. She settled herself in the saddle and, as the leader of the pack, led the long line of riders onto the trail head.

The Spring Fling trail ride was underway. The annual gathering of horse enthusiasts met at Tingley’s Field in the rolling hills of Andover, NH. There were over one hundred horses signed up for the event and by the sound of the cacophony in the field, everyone arrived and brought friends.

Horses of all shapes, sizes, and colors were assembling in small groups to enjoy the pre-bug-season ride into the woods and dales of the foothills. There were miniature horses pulling small carts, saddle horses of every description and the thundering giants of the horse world, Friesians and drafts.

Milling around a large tractor-trailer were the horses of Reach For The Stars Stables, a popular riding academy in Andover. At the helm was Marla Mesconti, trainer, instructor, and advocate for horses. Her tall, blonde mien was easily recognized as was her reliable helper Marissa. The bouncy red-head tossed a brush to Marla.

This is going to be awesome! shouted Marissa. I can’t believe how many people turned out for this.

Marla turned to look at the mass of horses in various stages of gearing up. I know what you mean. This is going to raise a ton of money for the trail conservancy group.

A tall, handsome man with an Italian heritage etched in his face came around the back of the trailer and approached Marla and Marissa.

He leaned in and planted a kiss on Marla’s cheek. So, you talked me into this ride. What horse will I be subjecting my ignorance too?

Marla beamed at her boyfriend, Rick Wassel, a recent implant to the New Hampshire hills. Rick and Marla met a few years back while working on a case of a stolen horse. Their relationship blossomed when Rick had to save Marla from a wrongful arrest in New York the previous summer. After the case was solved, Rick transferred to New Hampshire to work as a floating detective for the New Hampshire State Police.

Am I going to hurt like hell when this is done? Rick inquired.

Hmmmm…yes, I think you will. But it’s totally worth it! The views we get at the top of the ridge are fabulous and there’s nothing better than a trail ride to free your mind, Marla squeezed his arm.

Rick rolled his eyes, not convinced, but game for a try at it.

Marissa led an older Quarter Horse named Minion up to the mounting block.

Come on Rick, climb aboard. Minion is a total packer. He’ll stop if you fall off.

Rick wrinkled his brow, Gee, you have a lot of faith in my riding skills, kiddo.

Rick climbed to the top step of the block and swung a leg over the saddle. After settling in, Marissa adjusted the stirrups for him and led him to the open area behind the trailer.

You stay here and we’ll be along in a minute. Don’t be going anywhere without us!

Rick dutifully waited in the staging area as one after another joined him. Marla and Marissa were last to mount up. Marla was riding Ritzforg 126, a wild-looking Friesian stallion. Ritz was a gentleman, but with the long, flowing mane and tail, feathered legs and the bushy forelock, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel.

She strode forward to lead the dozen or so riders from her farm onto the trail head. Ritz kept up a formidable pace causing many of the other horses to trot to keep up with his full, long-strided walk.

The trees were in full blush with spring-green leaves popping out on every branch. Wild mountain laurel was in bloom, their delicate white flowers a stark contrast to the cinnamon-colored pine-needle beds surrounding them. The girls took it upon themselves to flirt unabashedly with Rick, teasing him about his lack of style in the saddle.

You think it’s easy keeping up with you guys, Rick lamented.

Marissa giggled, No, it’s not easy because we are AWESOME!

The conversations broke off into separate groups as the horses strung out in a single line. Everyone commented on how beautiful the air was, clean and fresh. The sky was cerulean with not a cloud in sight. Marla pointed out different trees and an occasional lady slipper to Rick, helping him to acclimate to the new state he now called home.

See those lady slippers, Rick? Marla pointed to the delicate pink flowers peeking out of the pine bed. They are protected here. If you see anyone picking them, feel free to slap the cuffs on them.

Rick grimaced, Sure, I can see the paperwork mountain coming out of that arrest.

Everyone up for a little trotting? Marla called back to the rest of the group she could see.

The hoots and calls signaled a definitive yes, so Marla squeezed the big, black horse into a steady, rhythmic trot. Rick kicked Minion into gear and followed along. He looked like he was having some difficulty keeping steady but was not about to let a cluster of hens outride him. No matter how many times he sat down hard a little too close to the pommel he kept his chin up and eyes forward.

Marissa could be heard stifling her mirth in her riding gloves.

Don’t start, Marissa, Rick threw over his shoulder, I’ll have to give you a swirly when we get back.

The rest of the girls in earshot laughed out loud.

The trail riders worked their way up the easy slope heading towards a ridge that overlooked the very field they left less than an hour ago. Minion kept grabbing at the fresh green leaves dangling in front of him where the trail narrowed.

How do you stop this horse from snacking? Rick asked.

Marla’s laugh pealed through the woods, Ha ha!! Good luck with that. Minion has taken countless people on trail rides and knows exactly how to sneak up on them. Just keep a little stronger grip on the reins and when you see him start to wander to the edge, correct him to the middle of the trail. It won’t stop him from trying, but it will slow down the violent yank on your arms.

The group traversed a small stream and the trail took an upward swing before finally coming out into an open area littered with boulders and grass. There were a few other riders taking a break and allowing the horses to graze before getting back on the ride. Marla hopped off her horse and helped Rick off his. They walked the horses as close to the edge as they dared to get a look at the panoramic vista spread before them.

Wow….that’s amazing, Rick breathed through his lips.

Didn’t I tell you it was a gorgeous view? Sometimes I take a ride up here with Marissa and we just sit on these rocks and stare at it. The scene looks like a painting from up here. It’s also very quiet when it’s just us.

The view took in the valley below as well as the small range of mountains on the other side. Red-tailed hawks were seen riding the thermals created in the middle of the valley. It was a view that a camera would fail miserably to catch.

Rick could hear various whinnies and screeches from along the trail on either side of them. Horses seemed to want to whinny if they heard another horse but couldn’t see them. With over one hundred horses on the trail, the whinnying was non-stop.

Marla passed a water bottle to Rick and offered him some crackers she brought along to snack on.

Thanks, Rick accepted the offer.

How’s everyone doing? Marla cast back at the rest of the gang that had finally caught up to them. Various answers indicated the group was ready to finish the ride and get to the wonderful barbeque lunch that awaited them in the field.

Marla led the grounded riders to the rock that served as a mounting block and helped everyone up before hiking herself back in the saddle.

She led the first of the group back to the trail for the hour-long descent into the parking field. A slight wind had picked up as they entered the wooded trail creating a whispering accompaniment to the chatting riders.

The ride down the gentle slope was full of fun obstacles that nature provided. Rick did his best to guide Minion over the fallen logs, creek beds, and rocks.

You’re going to be a great rider, Rick, Marissa pointed out.

Thanks for the vote of confidence. My butt disagrees with you at the moment, Rick grimaced as he wiggled in the saddle.

Marla looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, Wait until you sit down on the couch in the morning, that’s when it reminds you about the two hours you rode today!

As Marla rounded a bend in the trail she saw a woman on foot some distance away. She noticed immediately, the woman appeared distressed.

Where’s her horse? Marla thought out loud.

As they approach her a few minutes later, Marla could see the woman was crying and looked a bit disheveled. Dirt smudges on her hip and knee was a clear sign that she’d fallen recently.

Marla pulled up Ritz and hopped off.

Are you OK? What happened? Did you break anything? Marla’s empathy went into overload.

The woman heaved a great sigh, Oh, my God, my horse spooked and got away from me. I don’t know where she went!

Rick slid off Minion and hurried to Marla’s side with Marissa in hot pursuit.

What did she look like? What kind of horse and where did it happen? Marla grilled the injured woman.

The woman sobbed even louder as she told the tale. I was back there about a quarter of a mile. I was at the intersection where the logging road goes off towards Bogart’s Hill. I was on the main trail and this stupid hunter came out from behind a tree and scared her. She jumped to the side so quickly, I lost my seat!

Marla put her arm around the sobbing woman’s shoulder.

A hunter? This time of year? There is no hunting season that I’m aware of. Are you sure? What did he look like?

I don’t know! Just a big guy dressed in clothes that had leaves all over them. He was so camouflaged I never saw him until he stepped out from behind the tree. He had makeup on his face and a bow and arrow on his back.

Rick’s eyes narrowed slightly and he reached in his jacket pocket for his ever-present note pad.

When you fell off, did the camo man stop to help you? Rick began his questioning.

No! That’s what pissed me off the most. I landed hard and was trying to find which way was up and my mare dashed off down the logging road and the idiot hunter ran back into the woods the other way! I’m so worried about her. She’s all saddled up and could get caught on anything or fall into a bog. I’m a wreck, she answered with a renewed batch of tears.

Marla gathered up Marissa, another well-versed rider named Brandy and a couple more students and instructed them to take the logging road as far as they could to see if they could find the mare.

What kind of horse is she? Color?

She’s a Gypsy Cob. She’s a rare color as well, buckskin. You couldn’t miss her with all that black hair and tawny body. Her mane is braided up but when it’s loose, it hangs to her knees. She’s really sweet and will come to you if you call her. Her name is Layla.

Marla sent the pack of girls off to search for the horse while Rick and she checked out the woman’s overall health. They poked and prodded, asked where she hurt, and Marla got a bandage from her trail sack and stopped the bleeding from a bad rub on the woman’s elbow.

They waited for almost an hour, notifying all that passed by of the loose horse ahead and asked that they keep an eye out for either the horse or the hunter.

Marla could hear the girls coming back down the logging road and crossed her fingers that they had a Gypsy in tow. One after another came into view and her heart dropped when the last of her riders drew up empty-handed.

Marla turned to the woman and said, Look, it’s going to be difficult covering all this terrain. I live nearby and have an ATV that I could have my barn manager, Jorge, bring up. Then Rick and I will help you get a search party going, and we can track her hoof prints better. Let’s get back to the field and I’ll call Jorge now to get him up here with the ATV.

Marla switched gears from laid-back trail rider to four-star general like a lightning bolt. Rick was in awe at how quickly she moved to help someone and to clear up a problem. Everyone mounted up and headed for the field. The distraught woman was hoisted onto the broad and capable back of Ritz to ride double with Marla.

Marla pulled out her cell phone and called Jorge, her best friend and manager of her farm.

Ola, Miz Marla! Jorge answered the call in his signature South American twang.

Hi, Jorge, listen, I have to be quick because my cell signal is spotty. Can you load up the ATV and get to Tingley’s Field as soon as possible? We have a horse gone wild here and I’d like to use the ATV to go find her.

Oh, no! Is it one of ours? Jorge’s concern etched in his reply.

No, I actually don’t know the woman but she is absolutely devastated to lose her prize Gypsy mare.

Okie dokie, I’m on my way!

Marla rang off and led the group back to the field at a brisk trot. She was directing each rider on what to do when they returned.

Make sure they are all cooled down before you give them too much water, just a sip at first, then, all they want when they are settled. Marissa, you will take Ritz and hand off Minion and your horse to Brandy and Lisa, they can walk out those horses in pairs. Once we get them cooled and watered, I would like you to get everyone wrapped and put on the trailer. The driver will probably be eating lunch so I’ll go get him as soon as we land. Rick and I will handle the search and get…I’m sorry, Marla looked over her shoulder, I didn’t get your name!

Beth Amesby, she stated abruptly.

Thanks, Beth. Sorry to meet you under such circumstance and I hope you don’t mind my taking charge. I tend to be a bit pushy. Are you OK?

Yes, please help me. I am a mess and don’t have the faintest idea where to start.

Great! OK, Marissa, I’ll stay here with Rick, and I’ll have you and Brandy oversee the packing. Be sure to get yourselves some lunch before you go. There’s no need to miss the barbeque. We’ll be getting to the field about the same time as Jorge so I’ll send him home to be sure the unloading goes well. Oooh! I must call our ACO. She’s awesome at finding lost animals.

Beth reached forward and touched Marla’s arm, Thank you so much. What’s an ACO?

Animal Control Officer. The one we have is a real finder. She found one of Gameland Farm’s Highlander cows once, thirteen miles from the herd!

I hope Layla’s all right. I just can’t imagine her running that far away! She is so docile and sweet. This isn’t like her at all.

Marla thought for a moment then asked, Why don’t you tell me about her.

She is a six-year-old Gypsy Cob mare. A very-rare buckskin color with a soft, beautiful face, and has a partial blue eye. I bought her about six months ago from a breeder in the lakes region. Her name is Fiona Reilly. Do you know her?

Marla thought for a minute before replying, I know of her, but I never met her.

Beth continued, I fell in love with the breed a few years ago and when I went to see Layla. She was standing in a grassy field by herself and I walked up to the fence just to admire her. She trotted over to me and tucked her nose in my pocket. I was hooked almost immediately. I wanted to buy her right then and there, until I heard the price.

Marla nodded in agreement, Yes, they sure can be expensive. They are rare to begin with, like the Friesian, and supply and demand has kept their prices pretty high.

Yes, well I was on my way out when Fiona stopped me and told me Layla wasn’t the type to just wander over to a person on the railing, she was typically a bit snobbish when she was out to pasture. Fiona must have felt we made a connection. I made three more trips back to the farm and then Fiona offered to let me buy her with a payment plan I could live with. I just fell in love with her and we’ve been a team ever since. This is so unlike her, Bath lamented again.

Rick had been silent since they began the final leg of the trip. As they approached the field, the horses already back from the ride heralded the entry of Marla’s group.

Boy, I’ve heard more whinnying today than I’ve heard in the last thirty years, Rick teased.

Beth smiled at him slightly, Thanks, I needed that.

Marla saw Jorge turning into the entrance to Tingley’s Field just as she reached her transport trailer. She hopped off and put her plan into action. Everyone