Caroline's Purpose
Title Page
Caroline’s Purpose
Erica Zaborac
Durham, NC
Copyright
Copyright © 2021 Erica Zaborac
Caroline’s Purpose
Erica Zaborac
ericazaborac.wordpress.com
erica_zaborac@hotmail.com
Published 2021, by Torchflame Books
an Imprint of Light Messages
www.lightmessages.com
Durham, NC 27713 USA
SAN: 920-9298
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-61153-392-7
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61153-393-4
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020922345
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without the prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
About the Author
Dedication
Mrs. Davenport,
thank you for helping me realize my dream in fifth grade, and for being here
every step of the process.
Without you, none of this would be possible.
Also, in memory of my horse,
Bo (April 25, 1998-June 1, 2020).
Thank you for being my heart and inspiration.
One
They were flying. The tall green grass bowed in the breeze the horse and rider created as they passed. The trees and spectators were just a blur of color in their vision. Beau’s hooves hardly spent any time on the ground as he galloped toward the next jump. Caroline saw the fence come into view and sat up, cueing her gelding to rebalance himself. He responded perfectly, listening to her body. Caroline smiled, loving the relationship the two shared, and how they could communicate without words.
The jump came closer and closer. Beau got his eyes and heart locked onto the jump. Caroline gave him one last half halt on the reins, then left him alone. They’d be in the air in three…two…one…
Caroline sat up in the dark with a shock, her t-shirt clinging to her damp skin. It took her a moment to remember where she was. She wasn’t on Beau galloping around the cross-country course. She was in her bed, in her room, tangled in sheets from tossing and turning. The now-familiar ache in her right elbow brought her back to the present even more. She reached for her phone to check the time, seeing it was just after three in the morning.
She kicked herself free from the sheets, so she could dry off. Her heart was still racing. She laid her hands across her face and forced her breathing to slow down. Tears of frustration stung her eyes. She wiped them away with a quick, closed fist.
Caroline knew going back to sleep wouldn’t be possible after that dream. She climbed out of bed and padded across the soft carpet to her desk. She rolled the chair out and plopped down. She twisted the knob of her lamp, sighing as the light reflected on the shiny new textbooks lying in front of her. The first classes of her sophomore year of college would begin later that day.
She ran her fingers over the cover of the top book, the one for her general chemistry class. The cover creaked as she opened it. She flipped through the pages, eyeing the graphs and charts and the periodic table, wondering how she would ever be able to understand the concepts.
Caroline closed the chemistry book and glanced at the covers of the texts for her other classes. It was going to be a tough semester with economics and statistics on top of chemistry. But those weren’t the classes she was dreading the most.
Along with the academically challenging classes, she also found herself taking Intro to Horse Science, and Weanling Training and Management, courses she wasn’t sure she could handle. The idea of being around horses again was causing her nightmares, when she could fall asleep at all.
She hadn’t enrolled in those classes by choice. Her academic advisor had been pushing her to choose a major, and because of her past, had suggested Equine Science. Caroline’s throat had closed, and she hadn’t been able to say no. She hadn’t been able to say anything. Her advisor didn’t know why she had left the horse world all behind her.
Very few people knew.
Caroline set the textbooks aside and reached for her laptop. If she couldn’t sleep, she could at least get organized for the semester. She logged in to the University of Arizona website and grabbed her planner. She went class by class, syllabus by syllabus, until every homework assignment, project, and test were written in and highlighted in her calendar. At least she could control those kinds of details.
She was still wide awake when she finished with the last class. Closing her laptop, she scooted her chair away from the desk. She thought about how much more time she would have to study this semester, since she had lost her roster spot on the softball team due to an injury. She still had a managerial position with the team, but that wouldn’t be as time consuming as being an athlete. She spun the chair back and forth, taking in the bare, lavender-painted walls staring back at her.
She had torn all the pictures and plaques from the walls two months ago, when she was told she would never play softball again. The glimmer of the overhead lights on the trophies and medals and the smiles of her teammates had been almost as painful as the torn tendon in her elbow. She couldn’t fix her own arm, but she could get rid of everything that reminded her of her love for the game, of her success on the field. Of everything she had lost. It was all stuffed into a couple of boxes and hidden away in the back of her closet. Another former life, another set of painful memories, packed away and out of her sight. If only it was that simple to get them out of her heart.
Caroline blinked and pushed herself up out of the chair and back to her bed, clicking off the lamp as she went. She needed to try to rest so she wouldn’t be useless on her first day of classes. Watching the ceiling fan spin above her head, counting its rotations, she tried to stop her mind from racing. Her eyes moved from the fan to the dresser, where her dust-covered Bible sat. For a moment, she considered getting up and opening it, as reading the words had once been enough to help her breathe and relax. To find peace and purpose. But not anymore. God had taken away everything good in her life. There was no point in opening the book. Caroline rolled over to her side and pulled her blanket over her head.
It felt like only minutes had passed when her heart skipped a beat and she jumped as the alarm on her phone started screeching at her. Reaching far to her left, she used her thumb to stop the noise.
Her feet scuffled across the carpet as she dragged them to the bathroom. The mint of her toothpaste mixed with the salt of a few stray tears that dripped down her cheeks and into her mouth. She scrubbed away the trails they left, drying her eyes before putting on mascara.
The dresser drawer creaked when she opened it. She grabbed a polo and a pair of shorts, pulling them on without looking
at her reflection…without letting her tired eyes find the school logo or the script spelling out softball underneath it. She reached for her gym bag and put in a pair of rough, worn jeans before going to her closet to find her old paddock boots. She hadn’t touched them in years, and a thin layer of arena dirt and hay still covered them. She stuffed them in with the jeans and zipped the bag shut. After slamming her books into her backpack, she threw the pack over her shoulder, crumpled the gym bag in her fist, and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.
Her dad stood over the stove, sizzling bacon and flipping pancakes. She dropped her bags by the front door and sat down on the stool by the counter.
“Morning, kiddo. This’ll be ready in just a second. How’d you sleep?” Doug Davis’s six-foot, two-inch athletic frame towered over the burner as he adjusted the temperature. Even though it had been years since his last game, the muscles in his right arm still showed how dominate of a major league baseball pitcher he had been.
“I slept fine,” Caroline lied. “Where’s Mom?”
“She had an early lesson to teach, so she’s outside already.” He dished Caroline’s breakfast on to a plate. “She said to tell you to have a good day.”
Caroline nodded her head as she poured syrup over her pancakes. Her mom, Holly, worked as a horse trainer and was still one of the top three-day eventers in the country. Her parents were very different and had separate passions, but they were a perfect match. Together, they made their farm the high-class facility it was.
Because of each of their interests, Caroline had been encouraged to pursue both softball and eventing. She had done very well in each sport, but now, because of fate’s awful sense of humor, she had lost both.
“You okay over there?” Her dad interrupted her thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Caroline scooped a bite of pancakes into her mouth.
“Seemed like you were somewhere else there. Worried about the semester?”
“A little, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Econ and stats won’t be as bad as you’re thinking. You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Doug smiled and winked.
Caroline swallowed. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime.”
Caroline finished her breakfast and checked the time on her Fitbit. “I better get going.” She stood and put her plate in the sink. Stooping down, she gathered her things, patting the front of her backpack to check for her keys and wallet.
“What’s in your gym bag? Are you gonna work out with the team?” Her dad peeked his head around the corner toward the front door.
Caroline’s heart stopped, and panic caused her stomach to tense. “Um, yeah,” she mumbled. “I thought I would run with them if I had time. You know, relieve some stress.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me. Enjoy your first day, kiddo.” He turned back to the kitchen.
“I’m sure I will.” She opened the door and headed for her car, glancing down the driveway toward the barn and the arenas. She saw her mom standing in the middle of the dressage arena, teaching a lady on a light gray horse. Her mom was so focused on the lesson, she didn’t notice Caroline standing there watching. Tearing her eyes free from the scene in front of her, Caroline opened her car door and got in, putting her bags in the passenger seat. Her gaze fixed onto her gym bag, forcing her to think about the lie she had just told her dad.
She hadn’t told either of her parents about the Equine classes she was taking, and she didn’t plan to. Better to keep them in the dark and not get their hopes up that she was returning to the horse scene. She felt guilty about keeping it a secret, and even guiltier about lying, but there was nothing else she could do. Her decision had been made. There would be no going back. With one last glimpse toward her mom in the arena, and a sigh that lifted her blond bangs off her forehead, she put her car in reverse and pulled away from the house, dragging herself toward reality.
Two
Connor Taylor pulled his truck into the grassy parking area at the University of Arizona Equine Center and cut the engine. He stared in awe at the pastures that stretched out in front of him. Most of them were filled with ten to fifteen horses, all with their muzzles down to the grass, grazing in the green oasis that was somehow located in the middle of the Tucson desert. Ten weanlings crowded the nearby pasture fence, eyeing his truck with cautious suspicion. Connor pried open his door, creating just enough space for him to slide out from behind the steering wheel, not wanting to startle them.
One of the babies nickered as Connor stepped toward the enclosure. The young horse pushed his way through the herd, eyeing Connor. Bigger than the other foals, his coat shone like copper. A wide white stripe blazed down the center of his face.
“Hi, buddy.” Connor reached through the fence as the colt stretched his head and neck toward Connor’s hand. “You must be in charge out here the way you just plowed your way over everybody.” The horse bobbed his head up and down, as if he was nodding in agreement.
Connor studied the rest of the weanlings, estimating their ages and breeding with the skills he had gained from growing up on his parents’ breeding farm. The large colt who had nickered at him was probably the oldest, close to six months old. The smallest filly in the group looked to be between three and four months old. All of their coats glittered in the warm sunshine. Their developing muscles rippled as they moved, showing the talented athletes they would grow up to be. They were all stunning. If God made something more beautiful, He had kept it for Himself.
Lord, thank You for creating these creatures and for giving me this opportunity. I’m really looking forward to this class and this program.
A light breeze blew across the pasture, ruffling the manes and tails of the horses in front of him. Other cars began pulling into the lot, and the group of babies went to see each person as they had him, eager to get attention from the students who would be training them for the semester. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Connor locked his truck and headed to the barn.
Dust and spiderwebs hung from the rafters, showing the barn’s age, but the wood, the concrete, and the foundation were still sound and sturdy. Sunlight came in through windows located in the eaves, causing the spiderwebs to glisten. Hanging on the concrete walls in the entryway were the nameplates of the four breeding stallions who were at the farm. Connor stopped to admire the pictures that hung next to each nameplate. He could see how the weanlings got their good looks. In the pictures, the stallions were racing and jumping, chasing cows, doing what they loved. One showed a large chestnut with a white blaze down his face, clearing a huge jump with ease. Connor was reminded of the large colt he had befriended out in the pasture and guessed that this was his sire. He looked at the nameplate next to the picture: Chromeo. Laughing to himself at the clever name, he examined the other stallions on the wall. Along with Chromeo, there was Disco Fever, Lucky Star, and Stellar. They were each a different breed, a different type, but equally accomplished, and champions in their chosen disciplines. Connor moved closer to read more about each one, but a group of girls came giggling into the barn, interrupting his thoughts. With one last glance at the pictures of the stallions, he followed the girls down the aisle to go to class.
The classroom was small and already filled with students. A large window in the back let in the warm sunlight, accenting the light-yellow paint on the walls. The classroom opened up into the tack room, showing Connor leather bridles and reins hanging on one wall, with saddle racks on the other. Through the tack room, there was a courtyard surrounded by rose bushes. The door was open, letting in the breeze and the sweet chirps of birds.
Greeting each student as they walked in the classroom, a sheet of name tags sat on a stool. The girls ahead of him found their names with ease, their giggling conversation never letting up, and went to find seats. Connor looked but realized there was no name tag for him. He bent down and searched on the ground for a missing sheet but didn’t see one.
The instructor for the class, Dr. Carnes
, took a few steps in his direction when he noticed Connor looking around. “You must be Connor?”
“Yes, sir.” Connor stood up. “I was just trying to find my name tag.”
“Well, you don’t have one. I don’t get many guys in my classes, and you’re the only guy among nineteen girls in this one. I already know your name, and I’m sure everyone else will in no time.” Dr. Carnes chuckled as he extended his hand out to Connor.
Connor looked around and noticed that he was the only guy in the room, besides Dr. Carnes. A few of the girls who were listening to their conversation laughed, as Connor did too. “Fair enough.” He shook the instructor’s hand.
“Welcome to class, Connor.”
“Thank you.” Connor found a seat and pulled out a notebook and a pen from his backpack. As he opened it to the first page and wrote the date at the top, the last student walked into the classroom.
Connor recognized her, even though he hadn’t seen her in years. Yes, she was older, but her striking blue eyes with the specks of gold and her wavy blond ponytail gave her away. It would have taken him a lifetime to forget Caroline Davis. He had watched her at competitions for three years, and she had won every single time. When she rode, she was part of the horse. The two danced together in perfect harmony. No one could tell they were two separate beings; they moved as one. She had shone with confidence and purpose. It was an image that was forever engraved into his brain.
He remembered reading about the accident, the one that had cost her everything. Caroline had been so successful at such a young age. No one ever doubted what she would do with her life or the level of riding she would accomplish. But that had all changed.
Connor knew she had quit riding, and from what he had heard, she didn’t interact with horses at all, even though her parents owned and operated one of the most highly regarded training facilities in town. His parents had done business with them for years, selling them horses and breeding ones they already had. Before the accident, Caroline had been following in her mother’s footsteps as a professional three-day eventer and had already started helping her by riding and showing their clients’ horses.