The October sun casts beautiful rays across Pine Dell Farm. The leaves are changing their seasonal colors, and the pasture grasses are beginning to fade from their lush summer green.

Tony Vaught, on his trusted horse and companion, Joker, leads a bridled horse named Stormy to the farm's round pen by rope. The rope is slack, and the horse is leading well.

It's time for Tony to show some of his expert skills in the methods of natural horsemanship.

His job on this warm autumn day is to help Stormy overcome a fear of noises, particularly the rustling of plastic bags.

"It's all about horse psychology," Vaught says from the saddle. "There are no problem horses. They are perfect at being horses. They have a problem with the people things."

Julie Scheidegger/The Examiner In the back pasture at Pine Dell Farm, Jenny Vaught works with Jewel, coaxing her through a horse playground she designed to make horses less intimidated by common obstacles. Vaught and her husband Tony use the natural method to train horses.

Trainers like Tony and his wife, Jenny Vaught, use natural horsemanship to get to the root of an issue with a horse like Stormy. 

"People have been riding horses for thousands of years," Tony says. "Once you understand your horse and it understands you, it's easy."

The philosophy on the farm, east of Lee's Summit toward Pleasant Hill, is to use trust and leadership instead of fear or intimidation.

"We use seven games based on the games horses play to establish the pecking order among the herd," Tony said. "All horses are natural-born followers. There's one horse in a herd that is a leader."

The goal in the natural method, as taught by famous "horse whisperers" like Pat Pirelli, is to establish the person as the leader in the relationship.

Jenny met Pirelli in 1991 and knew she found a calling.

"His style was totally different," she said, so she began using the techniques at Pine Dell.

Her love of horses helped her find another calling. She met her husband Tony without having to leave her parents' farm. He was hired to shoe horses, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Julie Scheidegger/The Examiner Tony Vaught's horse, Joker, circles his owner upon his cues while working through his training paces in the indoor arena at Pine Dell Farm. Joker works with Vaught when training other horses and is Vaught's competitive barrel racing horse.

Now their three children live in their mutual world of respect and partnership. There's no mistaking their family bond as they work and play in the pastures and barns. 

Little 5-year-old Caitlyn, their middle child who stands barely 4 feet tall, shows complete confidence when she gets up on her horse Coby.

She loves Coby, and it's evident in the way she hugs and brushes on him. He stands as patient for her as a Pine Dell oak tree.

Caitlyn uses the reins to guide Coby forward and back, putting him through a few of the seven games before their friendly trot in the farm's arena.

Jenny watches her daughter closely from a railing. It's part supervision and part pride in her legacy.

Julie Scheidegger/The Examiner Her arms around Coby, 5-year-old Caitlyn Vaught pets her horse before riding him around the arena. Even at her age, Caitlyn uses natural handling methods with her horse.

"They don't know any other way but natural," she states proudly. "They have never been taught any fear or intimidation." 

Jenny watches Nichole, 10, nearly as intently, but Nichole can do many things on her own already. She is preparing her Arabian horse, Flash, for a ridership competition in November at the American Royal in Kansas City, and she is at home in the stirrups.

"Even if they choose a different path," her mother observes, "the things they learn from natural horsemanship will carry them through."

Family day begins and ends on the farm. Nichole and Caitlyn are home-schooled, first with a lesson plan and then out among the animals.

"We're not out in the barn every minute," Jenny says.

Justin, 2, stays with a relative when the Vaughts do chores or train. Every day is a work day except Sunday, when they go to church or sneak away to catch a barrel race.

Pine Dell has 55 to 70 horses, including 15 of the Vaughts' and the ones they train for neighbors and customers as far away as Germany.

The Vaughts have been thinking of moving their operation to Neosho, Mo., as Jenny's parents, Ed and Karen Moulis ­ owners of Pine Dell ­ want to retire and scale down.

Julie Scheidegger/The Examiner Part of the natural training method is understanding what horses identify as soothing, fun or threatening. Jenny Vaught has one of her horses lie down in the cool dirt of the arena to relax before training.

The Vaughts will never be far from their horses. As Tony puts it, everything they do in horsemanship revolves around confidence and communication. 

"It prepares your horse for anything," he says. "It builds a real strong foundation. Once you have that you can go in any direction."

The Vaught and Moulis families went through an ordeal last March that forced them to rely on their own strong foundation.

A fire on March 29 claimed the lives of 10 horses and destroyed two of their barns.

Tony called it "the most horrific experience I think any of our family has ever gone through."

Family members drew upon each other for support.

"We just pulled together and did what we had to do," Tony said. "We were absolutely overwhelmed by the outpouring of help and support we received in the days and weeks that followed."

The only thing unbreakable on the farm is the family bond.

Caitlyn giggles and shows off for visitors on top of Coby, Nichole puts Flash through some paces, and Jenny takes a half-Arabian named Jewel through some natural obstacles to boost her comfort level. Justin will soon follow when he's old enough.

Julie Scheidegger/The Examiner Jenny Vaught stands by as her oldest daughter Nichole mounts Flash whom she will show at the American Royal in November. Nichole rides Flash around the arena practicing the non-verbal commands she learned from her parents.

"We let the others ride when they were about 3," Jenny said. Justin is already interested in horses, trailing his siblings around on their rounds. 

He sits with his grandmother, Pam Vaught, near the round pen. The sun continues to be bright, shooting colorful rays through the slats in the fencing and illuminating the dust cloud that Tony and Joker are about to kick up.

Tony and Joker arrive at the pen with Stormy in tow for training.

Before Stormy got to Pine Dell, she had lashed out at her owner from fear. From what Tony remembers, she broke her owner's nose. He is ready to cure Stormy's fear of noises.

He produces a training stick with a plastic bag tied to the end. The stick is not for intimidation. The trainer needs to give commands but stay far enough back in case the untrained horse kicks. It's time to go to work.

Tony rustles the bag and tests Stormy's boundaries. Her eyes are wide and although she is curious, she is also timid and pulls on the rope. The expert Tony lets out more rope for a reason.

"I have to show her she has a choice," he says. "It's her choice."

Julie Scheidegger/The Examiner Horses instinctively fear predators, mostly from above their heads and at their feet. Using the natural handling method, Tony Vaught and Joker spend time riding with a young mare, Stormy, while repeatedly exposing her to the sight and sound of a plastic bag. This will desensitize her to non-threatening movement and noises.

Horses are prey animals in the wild and have a natural fear of anything that resembles a predator, Tony says. A rustling plastic bag might be a mountain lion in Stormy's mind. 

Ropes, bridles or horse trailers are not natural either, but they are necessary for the human-horse partnership.

"We start with the lightest amount of pressure possible," Tony says. "Then we get only as firm as we need to be."

In less than 30 minutes, Stormy is more comfortable near the bag, which Tony can now glide along her chestnut colored torso with a gentle motion.

That's enough progress for today. It's almost time for dinner, school work and evening prayers. Tomorrow they will train again until the next horse is comfortable.

Ten years ago, Susan Engle of Pleasant Hill brought her first horse, Sage, to Pine Dell Farm.

"I followed other clinicians' ways and I fell off," Engle said. "It hurt really bad. They trained the horse and gave me lessons on another horse until my horse was ready."

She speaks highly of the Vaughts, whom she now helps by maintaining the farm Web site, www.pinedellfarm.com.

"You start to take on the effects of the training," Engle said. "You become more courageous and you become more aware of the power you have over your environment."

Engle is so comfortable on a horse that she now does bridle-less demonstrations at shows.

"By the end of the day," Engle says, "your horse is so trusting of you and that bond is so tight, your horse will follow."

Tony rounds up the family and they put their horses up for the day, and with that, another day of work is done.

"It all amounts to learning how to communicate," Tony says. "When you communicate in a natural way, you make progress."