Prince Ali Read online

  PRINCE ALI

  AN ARABIAN HORSE NOVEL

  WONDER HORSE BOOK ONE

  VICTORIA HARDESTY AND NANCY PEREZ

  PO Box 221974 Anchorage, Alaska 99522-1974

  [email protected]—www.publicationconsultants.com

  ISBN 978-1-59433-757-4

  ebook ISBN 978-1-59433-758-1

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2017933157

  Copyright 2017 Victoria Hardesty and Nancy Perez

  —First Edition—

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in any form, or by any mechanical or electronic means including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, in whole or in part in any form, and in any case not without the written permission of the author and publisher.

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Nobody writes a book in a vacuum. There are lots of people who help. We’d like to take a minute to thank some of the people who helped us with this story.

  Rebecca Gordon, Lynn Votaw, Bob Von Boeckmann and Sharon Zarogoza read several versions of this manuscript offering suggestions, questions and pointing out rough spots.

  Retired Deputy Sheriff Robert Johnson of the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s office helped us figure out what the Sheriff’s Department would most likely do in a high profile criminal case like this.

  Chris Kramer, our first reader sent us in the opposite direction of where we were headed. We are so thankful she did. Her observations laid the foundation for this book and several more in the same category.

  Our husbands, Michael Naquin and Ray Perez, supported us and held back the myriad of interruptions that occur daily in the average household.

  Rebecca Goodrich suggested a publishing company for us with an excellent recommendation. She also provided tough love and guidance when we could no longer see the forest for the trees.

  Lastly, our friends and families who put up with the “crazy writer” in their midst and encouraged us to keep at it.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Prince Ali stood quietly breathing in the fresh salty air and enjoying the early morning crispness. He stood tied to the side of his horse trailer while his best friend, 13-year-old Becky and her mother, Caroline Howard brushed him down on both sides. He yawned and stretched his neck when Becky reached his withers. “I don’t know what this ‘parade’ thing is,” he thought to himself pushing his withers into the brush. “But it beats taking those cold baths at o’dark-thirty at the horse shows.” That morning Becky bathed him inside his barn with warm water. He relished the luxury of a warm bath. Ali shivered involuntarily remembering all the times his first class of the day was at eight in the morning. That meant he was in an outdoor wash-rack by 5:30 a.m., sometimes before the sun was up, getting his bath in freezing water from a hose.

  Becky peeked her head around Ali’s neck and under his head. “Mom, you did tell Aunt Ginny and Chris and Sharon that Ali was the Grand Marshall in the parade, didn’t you?”

  “Of course, sweetheart! Do you think I wouldn’t tell your coach or Ali’s trainer about this?” Caroline chided.

  “Are any of them coming to watch?” Becky asked.

  “Honey, Chris and Sharon O’Neal have that whole training facility in Colorado to run. We talked about it and decided it didn’t make any sense for them to hop a plane to come out here for one parade when Chris has so many other horses in training. Ginny lives a hundred miles away, you know. She’s been here twice this week to coach you and Ali already. She has her own ranch work to do today. I told them I would get them a copy of the video. I’m on the parade committee. I can do that.” Mom grinned at her.

  “Well, as long as they get to see the video, Mom.”

  “Do you think I would forget to tell the world’s best trainer and coach about you riding him in the parade? Not on your life!” Mom laughed.

  Ali was the Grand Marshall of the Swallows Day Parade in San Juan Capistrano, California. He would be the first animal ever to hold that position. He fit all the qualifications. He lived in San Juan Capistrano; in fact he’d been born there five years earlier. He was a prominent citizen. He was famous. He did charity work with Becky and the Howards. And he was available when Rex Taylor, the famous movie star, had to bow out because of a movie deal. The choice of a horse for the Grand Marshall gained approval immediately from the parade committee members when their Board of Directors filled that crucial slot on short notice. The local equestrian community loved the idea when the announcement came out in the local papers. “Why not?” people thought. “The parade celebrates our heritage. Horses have been an important part of our history for generations.”

  The staging area was in the large Regional Occupation Program parking lot directly across from the famous San Juan Capistrano Mission. Mom parked her truck and trailer in an area near the rear exit, next to the last building in the lot. It gave them enough room to take Ali out of the trailer and work on him between the building and the trailer for privacy. The building would also provide shade for Ali later in the day.

  Prince Ali was an extraordinary five-year-old Arabian stallion. By his fifth birthday he’d earned so many National Championship trophies Mom had to expand his trophy case from one to two. He’d also earned two World Championships along the way. Prince Ali rose to national fame when he stepped in as temporary mascot for the Colorado Mavericks football team. His performances thrilled millions in person and on television.

  The Howard family was delighted the parade committee asked Ali to be the Grand Marshall for this year. Becky pestered her parents for weeks to ride Ali in the parade. Mom finally caved in and agreed after many conversations with Ali’s trainer, Chris O’Neal in Colorado and Becky’s coach, Ginny Hartley. Her concern was that Ali had no experience with parades. There had been a few minor mishaps at the parade over the years. She didn’t want either of them hurt. Chris knew Ali better than anyone but Becky. He worked with them and saw firsthand how Ali protected “his Becky.” Ginny’s advice had been the same. “Let them have some fun! Those two are perfect together. They’ll do just fine!”

  Becky was so excited about riding her best friend down the parade route she hardly slept a wink the night before. Mom insisted she eat breakfast that morning. While Mom and Becky got Ali ready, Becky was all business on the outside and nervous and jittery on the inside. Becky always chattered to Ali when she was excited. This morning it was non-stop. Mom had seen it before many times. When Becky was on a roll, Ali would sometimes nod his head as if he were in agreement with her or shake his head as if he didn’t. He would turn around and stare at her like he couldn’t believe what she was saying, snorting at the same time. When Becky said something really funny to him
he had a special response. He blew through his closed lips and made a sound remarkably like a raspberry. Mom swore that horse answered her back. This would be the first time most of Becky’s school friends saw Ali under saddle. In fact, Dad and Mom were happy they would be able to show off their unusual “son” to their friends and neighbors at home for the first time.

  Despite the tension and noise in the parking area, Ali stood still. He knew Becky was going to ride him. He loved riding with her and couldn’t wait to get started. His motor was humming. The energy from the people getting ready for the parade was different from anything he’d experienced. He could hear it all as other animals were tacked, hitched, saddled, decorated and groomed for the parade. High School bands tuned their instruments on the grassy area next to the parking lot. Horses whinnied, mules brayed, goats bleated. He could hear wagons rolling on wooden wheels, carriages come out of trailers and truck beds, leather squeaked, shod hooves rang out on the pavement, people chattered as they climbed up on floats. Drivers began shuttling their animalpowered vehicles through traffic to their starting places. People gave orders, moved animals and gear around and climbed into their costumes. There was action, noise and color everywhere you looked on this beautiful early spring morning. Ali could hear it all but couldn’t see it yet because the horse trailer blocked his view. His ears spun around like a helicopter taking in all the racket.

  Becky applied lotion to Ali’s face and ears to enhance the black of his skin where the hair was thinner on his muzzle and around his eyes. It defined his facial features and added shine to the silver hairs on his face. Mom finished brushing him down and sprayed his coat with a shine and conditioner polish. She smoothed his mane and took tangles out of his tail. Becky applied hoof-black polish to his hooves so they gleamed like patent leather.

  Each working on one side of Ali, Mom and Becky put his costume on. The costume was elaborate and took some time to complete. Ali stood quietly as they worked. When the last piece of the costume was in place, Mom adjusted the crystal medallion on the brow-band to the center of Ali’s forehead. She polished away any fingerprints on the jewel.

  Mom and Becky stood back and looked Prince Ali over, brushing loose hairs from the velvet and adjusting tassels. Ali looked superb. This was the costume he wore at the United States and the Canadian National Championship shows last year. He brought home both trophies for the Arabian Native Costume Under-Saddle class.

  The teal velvet of the costume contrasted with the silver of Ali’s coat. The blanket covered Ali from withers to tail along the top and hung just below his belly at the sides. The bottom edge of the blanket was scalloped. Long tassels attached in three places on each scallop. Hand-set Swarovski crystals in a floral and geometric pattern followed the edge of the blanket and the bottom edge of the abba, or cape, Becky would wear. They sparkled in the sunlight. The deep teal and silver tassels almost dragged the ground along the bottom edge of the blanket. The tassels on the breast collar came to his knees. They swayed and glittered in the slight breeze. Shorter tassels on the reins and on each side of the headpiece hung down on either side of his neck.

  “Well, it’s time to get you in your outfit,” Mom told Becky. Ali was ready to get moving. He sifted his weight from leg to leg impatiently.

  Mom helped Becky step into the teal lamé jumpsuit, zipped it up and tightened the sash at her waist. She fastened the abba around Becky’s neck and adjusted it to show off the gorgeous rondel floral pattern in crystals on the back. She helped Becky put on the turban and tucked her blonde ponytail underneath it. She attached a sheer veil over the lower part of Becky’s face. Becky slid her feet into silver slippers, pulled on her silver riding gloves, prepared to mount Ali.

  “You pay attention to your horse and keep your eyes and ears open, hear me?” Mom said seriously.

  “Yes, Mom. You know Ali will take care of me.”

  Ali nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, Mom, you know I always watch out for Becky.”

  “I know that. But you also need to take care of him. He’s never done a parade before. Don’t be afraid to grab hold of the reins and stop him if he acts like he’s going to spook. Then just talk to him until he calms down.”

  “Yes, Mom I’ll be careful,” she answered, looking away and rolling her eyes.

  “Just when did I ever spook while Becky was riding? I don’t spook anyway!” Ali snorted, hurt by the suggestion.

  “Okay, then. Now, up you go,” Mom boosted Becky into the saddle.

  Mom walked around the horse and rider one more time adjusting little things. She had to admit these two were stunning. They were going to get a lot of attention on the parade route.

  “Time to head off to the staging area. Do you remember your place in the parade?”

  “Yeah, we should be about in the middle of the parade. Has Dad found you a place to sit yet?”

  Mom checked her watch. “He’s there now. We’ll be on the front porch of the El Adobe restaurant.”

  Mom walked beside Becky and Ali as they passed through the trailer parking area toward the parade Staging Area. People stopped what they were doing to watch. Mom heard bits of comments from people as they passed.

  “Is that the Howard’s famous Arabian horse? We heard he was going to be the Grand Marshall in the parade.” one lady whispered to her friend. “He’s beautiful! And they’re letting a kid ride him?”

  “Yeah, just look at that costume.” her friend replied. “That’s amazing! I heard that young lady has a lot of experience with that horse.”

  “He’s sure better looking than ol’ Rex Taylor,” someone shouted. His friends laughed. “Say, Melba, maybe you can get that horse to give you a kiss like you wanted to lay on Rex. He looks a lot younger anyway!” More laughter followed. Becky just sat up straight and kept Ali moving forward smiling under the veil. She knew they were quite a sight and enjoyed the attention. This was going to be a fun day!

  Heads turned as Ali passed. Ali also knew he was looking good. His necked arched, his ears pricked forward, his nostrils flared and he strutted like a peacock. The tassels on the reins, headpiece, breast collar and blanket swayed with his movements. Because of the crowds and all the activity, Becky kept Ali to a slow walk. For Ali, that was difficult. All he wanted to do was trot on. The soft morning sunlight sparkled on his silver coat and the jewels on the costume. He was picture perfect.

  “Hey, how about we have lunch at the El Adobe after the parade. I know how much you love their tacos and enchiladas. We can take Ali back to the trailer and haul him home after the parade. We can meet your dad at the El Adobe when we get back. He’ll hold a table for us.”

  “Good idea, Mom!” Becky’s stomach growled at the thought of enchiladas. She was too excited to want breakfast that morning but now she was glad Mom made her eat something.

  She saw people and animals milling around the Staging Area. “We’re here at our place now. We’ll be okay if you want to go join Dad. Ali’s feeling perfect this morning. He’s solid as a rock,” Becky stroked his neck, “aren’t you boy?” Ali nodded his head.

  “Well, I was going to stick with you two until the parade starts, but if you are sure you’ll be okay I think I will go join your Dad. I’m ready to sit down for a while. It’s been a long morning.”

  Mom patted Ali’s neck affectionately. “You be a good boy for me, you hear?” She hurried off to join Dad not knowing how good Ali would have to be in a very short while.

  CHAPTER TWO

  One week earlier…

  At one-thirty in the afternoon the old blue truck bounced down rutted roads on worn shocks and tires. The driver turned into the long, almost invisible driveway toward a falling-down cabin. A plume of dust followed, settling slowly into the countryside. Calvin and Danny Hix spent the morning working on a ranch 10 miles away. They’d mucked stalls and repaired several hundred feet of pasture fencing for the property owner who bred horses for the race track.

  When they reached the cabin, Calvin threw the truck in
parking gear and set the brake before climbing out. He reached into the cooler in the truck bed for two cold drinks and tossed one across the bed to his brother. Danny caught his with one hand.

  The two men sat down in creaking lawn chairs beside the cabin and stretched out their legs in the sunshine. They twisted the caps off their bottles and tossed them in nearby weeds. Each took a long pull of the cold liquid. The old truck engine ticked as heat dissipated. An occasional splat of oil dripped onto the gravel below. Neither of them said anything for a while. They just looked out across the hillsides surrounding the cabin.

  Located in northern San Diego County, the hills were a vibrant green this time of year. February rains brought fresh grasses and wildflowers out among the scrub oaks and mesquite. The twenty-acre property was miles from the nearest town, Ramona, and the nearest neighbor as well. Calvin and Danny preferred to live “off the grid” so finding this abandoned place was a lucky accident.

  The two brothers resembled each other with sandy hair and tall lanky frames. Calvin was the oldest, nearing thirty. Danny was the better looking of the two but had the mental capacity of a little kid in his twenty-five year old body. He could not survive without Calvin. They did anything to earn a living. Calvin had enough social skills to get them honest work on local horse ranches in the area. They cleaned horse stalls, painted barns or mended fences. They could change the oil in a tractor. They knew how to fix a leaky faucet or toilet, build a new gate, clean up a yard or paint a room or a house. They were pretty good hands with horses too.

  Danny closed his eyes under the mid-day sun and almost fell asleep until Calvin spoke.

  “Ya know, Danny, we’re goin’ to have to scrounge up a few bucks pretty quick if we want to have your birthday party in two weeks. Our jobs‘ll only pay a coupla hundred so we have to come up with an idea.”

  Danny kept his eyes closed but nodded his agreement, and cackled out loud. He would be twenty-five in exactly two weeks and Calvin wanted to throw him a big birthday party. He’d never had a birthday party in his life. He didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, but he always went along with Calvin.