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The Triple Crown 1 Kentucky Derby
Author:
Arianna Flemming PM
Only three fillies have won the Kentucky Derby, Regret 1915, Genuine Risk 1980, and Winning Colors 1983. now in the year 2016 one farm falling on bad times finds the courage to keep their last mare and foal. With this small hope in the stable will they rise to the challenge of the Derby when the foal is ready and grown. Can they make it to the Triple Crown? R&R please:)
Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure - Chapters: 2 - Words: 3,329 - Updated: 10-27-12 - Published: 10-10-12 - id: 3064677
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

A/N hello dear readers this is a story about a racehorse, sorry if things are not up to par with what really happens in the Horse Racing World but i will try to make this as true to real-life as possibly, now I did do research and a Thoroughbred can come the Buckskin color type it is just rare. now this is a fictional story but i will be putting real-horse facts and tidbits that i find as the story goes on. please R&R i would like that very much for i like this story a lot :) ps not all chaps will be as long as this one but they might:) enjoy readers enjoy!

The Triple Crown 1 Kentucky Derby

Part one: The New Foal

Chapter one

It was pre-dawn in Kentucky; the pale moonlight that covered the dew filled pastures of Silverbrook Farms faded as the sun returned. The grass tall but heavy with dew fell onto its self as a mare lay in the wet grass. The bay mare's flank heaved as she pushed her foal into the new world. The forefeet came into the wetness of the new world, and head came forth, the mare gave a pain filled squeal into the dawn as the first Sun ray floated over the barns and onto the sweaty mother to be. Her tail lashed as she pushed the shoulders out, pausing for a breath, she pushed harder and the foal was out. But the mare had been in labor since midnight and was very tired.

The sun came to its fullest of morning its mighty yellow rays picked up the dark gold of the foal that lay in the tall grass. The foal is a filly and unusual one at that for she is solid buckskin with no white on her body at all. Her soft brown eyes took in the grass and the sun which seemed to bright for her newborn eyes. With a flick of her baby tail she gathered her solid black striped legs underneath herself and rocked to her hooves in one try! She raised her head proudly, a fire alighting in her calm brown eyes; the brown with a black swirl in the clear shiny orb with a hint of gold, took in her new land, food was not on her mind at the moment. She took one tiny step her black hooves glistening as the sunlight caught them. Her chest swelled as she took a deep breath, eyes flashing fire she took off racing the sun's long rays of the morning.

A figure watched from the barn as the mother arose from the ground and watched her last foal race the sun.

"Bellasong is a good mare, Joe." a dark deep voice came from the figure that watched the foal just seconds old galloping with wild abandonment. The holder of the voice is Clint Carver, tall olive-skinned and with blue-green eyes with short black hair.

"Hey Clint, shine the light on the foal more I think that she is a Buckskin!"

"Joe TB don't have that color of foals, but alright,"

The man shined the light on the foal as it flashed by in a blur of dark gold. Then in a flash she slid to a stop by her mother. Flanks heaving as she caught her breath. Long black stripes starting from her knees on her front legs slid down to her black hooves the same with the length on her back legs, well-rounded haunches, nice shoulders, a strong graceful neck followed by a well-shaped dainty like head with kind golden brown eyes and perfect ears, eyes and muzzle.

"She is Perfection!" cried Clint in shock.

"Wait until The Boss sees her, Clint! Man will he be happy!" Joe hissed with excitement. The blond-haired man named Joe.

Joe Cazival is a short little man but he has long blond hair that he where in a pony tail wrapped in a bun, and a slightly weathered face for one as young as 27 years of age, light amber eyes.

Clint lit a cigarette, the red glow coming from the vile thing, the smoke wafted in the morning air. Clint watched as the new foal galloped to her mother Bellasong.

Joe frowned at his mini boss, "Clint, my friend, those things will be the death of you!" Clint glared at Joe before turning back to the mother and baby.

"Yep, that filly will be something."

"Sad that Silverbrook needs to sell most of the stock just to pay the bills,"

"Yes, it's a real shame I had hoped that Bellasong and her last foal would stay here,"

A third voice spoke up from the behind them.

"They will, boys."

The owner of the voice was the farms deputy of sorts as it is his sister that owns the farm that the siblings have inherited from their parents.

Zane Ruffsheild, middle-aged man in his early forties medium height; with fading black hair and light grey eyes; stood in the barn-way overlooking the pasture that held Bellasong.

He smiled and his teeth flashed in the brightness of 7 a.m. morning.

"We will keep the mare as it is my sister's own horse but after a year the foal will be sold and you guys will be without a job, for this is a breeding farm not a Racehorse Training farm. Just thought I would give you guys a heads up before the year is gone and you boys are kicked off, sorry that came from the Leader," Zane gave a crooked smile.

The filly felt hungry after her first run and walked closer to her mother who licked and nuzzled her. "You are a special foal my daughter," whiskered Bellasong softly to her suckling foal. She licked her newborn and then began to eat more of the grass that she was standing on.

The foal suckled her fill, her soft golden-brown eyes closed and she sank to her knees into the lush sun drenched grasses of her birth pasture. Her flanks and abdomen rose and fell with each breath of sleep.

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The morning grew into early afternoon when the Missis of Silverbrook came down to look at the foal with smile on her face. The woman has long flowing black hair and burning green eyes. She has that air and attitude of meaning business. Alice Swift twenty-nine with a kind heart, she looked on at the newborn with a smile on her red lips.

"Zane, Joe, Clint, tell me boys can we keep them?" she asked as she took the spyglass and focused on the foal, marveling at its beauty. Odd that one! A buckskin Racehorse? That is nigh impossible but here it- "Is the foal a male or female?"

"Filly, ma'am,"

Yes here she is the finest daughter of my Breeder's Cup Classic mare: Bellasong's Triumphs! Wonderful! She broke her mind musing to speak to her hands again.

'Try and catch them, give the mare warm bran-mash and a good box stall,"

"Yes Ma'am, will see that they are treated like a Queen and Princess," Clint spoke quickly then departed to gather the mare.

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Bellasong sniffed the wind that had picked up and smelled Clint on the wind. Why is he coming? With a twitch of her tail she moved away from him with her foal in tow. Catch me if you can Twoleg! "Come on my daughter lets run!" with a flip of her head the bay mare dashed away from the human with her newborn galloping right beside her. The foal lengthened her long legs unfurling them ever faster, the fire of racing flashing in her eyes; she swept past both her mother and the humans chasing them. She flipped her tail, and in full stride rocked to the lead of her own race.

With a tiny scream she galloped into a corner unknowingly and she was caught!; she gave a loud squeal she lashed out with her back legs catching, one of the other work hands that sure was being dumb standing behind a horse even a foal at that! The filly kicked and the kick caught the silly man in the chest and with eyes blazing with fury the filly leaped over the fallen man and vanished into the next corner. But this corner led into a large stall, it was a run-in type stall that opened into the pasture. It is here that the filly is trapped and captured.

With fire still blazing in her eyes the filly lies down and falls asleep, bone-tired.

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Alice looked the tired filly over noting the strong haunches and well-developed muscles already forming on her legs and powerful shoulders. But her neck is a little on the short side along with her back but that fire will burn the track for that Alice was sure. "She makes up for her shortness with a deep chest and nice long straight legs. Her black socks are perfectly marked on her legs just the right height," Alice wrote all her thoughts down onto her paper on that she use later but for now she thinks of a name.

Alice looked at her bay mare with loving eyes; her last foal is perfect in her eyes so she will need a good name. Sierra of the Rockies. The name came to Alice in a flash and she knew that was going to be the foal's name. She wrote the name down and then left to talk with her brother about how they would register Bellasong's last foal.

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The room was full of small statues of famous horses one of the filly Regret winner of the 1915 derby the first filly of three to win the Kentucky Derby. Alice looked at her small staff with a slight smile on her face.

"Bellasong's new and last foal is to be called, Sierra of the Rockies. I chose that name for I believe that she is very strong, like the mountains of which she is named. For don't mountains tower over all? And so shall Sierra."

Joe looked into the bright gaze of his employer and raised his hand she nodded at him to say what he wanted.

"Miss Alice, I want to know what your plans for Sierra are."

"Glad you ask, Joe, I want her to be trained by the best so that she may win the Triple-Crown, which is all I have planed right now, after that we will see as she will not be our filly as we will have sadly sold her before then,"

"Do we have to?" asked a girl who was a newly hired person named Kris Willowstone.

"I have money, from my last race, we could use that to keep and train the filly, could we not?" the girl looked with pleading light amber eyes, her light brown hair up in a ponytail.

"Kris that is noble and kind of you but-"

"I must interject my dear sister, we could use what Kris is offering, I think but can she still ride after breaking her arm two months ago?" Zane spoke up swiftly.

"My arm is fine!"

"Silence! I must think on this, dismissed until I call all of you,"

Alice paced after they had left and she knew that they needed the money if they where to stay afloat and it would mean keeping her beloved mare's last foal.

"I'll do it!" She cried aloud with a smile on her pretty red lips.

But what about a trainer and the training track you have neither of those things! The mind voice asked her.

"Those I will get in time but first-things-first to change this Breeding Farm into a Racing Stable in three years," the woman felt happy with her plan. For a training track could be made and a trainer could be found or they would send Sierra to one but first she would have to grow up. Training won't begin until she was two.

"Crew you may come back in I have made up my mind."

She waited until they shuffled their feet as if they could not stand it any longer.

"We are going to the Derby together! Kris will come with me in the morning to the doctor then to the bank if, the doc give Kris the 'okay' to ride.

With smiles on their faces they all five of them went to the stable to look at the future of the Farm.

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Bellasong looked at her foal nestled deep in the hay. My last foal I know will do great things! Then the light bay mare also folded her legs and went down in the hay/straw to sleep.

Alice and her crew looked at the last horses in the barn that once held ten horses, "The Future looks Bright my friends, let's hope that we have a great year!"

Sierra whickered in her sleep her legs moving as if she was running her first race.

Kris Willowstone was happy that night as she watched Sierra sleep. One day I will ride you, Sierra of the Rockies and we will be great! With a yawn Kris turned and left the barn to go to her trailer home parked by the stable. The rest save Zane went into the Bunkhouses.

For though the birth was in the morning it was still very early and all they had to take care of was Bellasong and Sierra so they all went back to bed for an hour.

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By mid-morning the staff was up and moving, Kris went with Alice to the doc and he gave her the okay to ride in a few races but she should still be taking it easy for a broken arm is not to be taken lightly.

"Next stop the bank with some of the money to make our own training track." Kris said with a smile for she dreamed of riding that filly into history.

"Yes let's go!" Alice spoke after a pause.

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Clint, Joe and Zane all watched as Sierra ran around the pasture of her home.

"Will she do good you think at the races in two years?" asked Joe as he waved the filly down as she was galloping to fast along the fence and a trough was in her way. But she ignored him and swerved with the grace of a Quarter Horse.

"Hard to tell, boy but I think she can at least place," Clint said before walking away.

"I hope so," Zane said.

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Running! I love it! Thought the solid buckskin as she filled her lungs with air and pushed her legs and hooves ever faster. I want to run faster! I run past my mother into the big pasture loving the feel of the wind on my fur. I see something up ahead and I know that must slow down or crash into that tall shape with strange green things on it like grass. Suddenly I hear other hoof beats and I see my mother racing to me. Ha I think not! Swerving to avoid that strange thing I dash around her and trip! I feel my body fly into the air, I land with a thump and I lay still, breathing hard from my fall and my fall.

I open my eyes to find my mother nuzzling me, "Get up my sweet," I rock to my hooves with a sigh, I stood tall and proud, how I love my life right now but my mother tells me it will get better when I get older but why must I wait so long? I want to race now!

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