I raced back into the barn and was headed to the tack room when I passed Tara and Camillo. They were laughing and Tara was testing Camillo’s biceps between two fingers. “You must work out.”
“No, I don’t, really,” Camillo said, his skin more apple than peach at that moment. After everything with Connor, Tara was trying to make herself feel better by flirting with Camillo and it was cruel and disgusting. There was no way she was really interested in Camillo. But he didn’t know that.
I shot Tara a hostile look and she muttered, “What’s your problem?”
“Don’t mess with him,” I said.
“Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“That’s ironic coming from you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know you told my dad about Colby and me.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “Believe whatever you want,” she said. “I don’t care.”
Believe whatever you want—as if anyone else would have told him. I walked off in a huff to the tack room. I sat down on my trunk, fuming, trying to get Katie and now Tara too out of my mind. I was about to stand up and start in on the tack when Susie walked in.
“Did I see you and Katie having a fight out there?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Wanna tell me what it was about?”
I didn’t think twice about telling Susie. I needed someone—preferably a woman—who would understand. Maybe she would be better able to judge who was right—Katie or me. “Colby,” I admitted.
“Oh.” Susie smiled. “A guy, how . . . normal.”
“She was mad because he wasn’t interested in her. She thinks she should get everything she wants. But just because her father can buy her the world doesn’t mean Colby should like her and not me.”
Susie was nodding along with my rant, but then she put a hand on my shoulder. “Did you ever think it might be hard for Katie to be your best friend?” she asked. “She’ll never be the rider you are. Ever.”
“I guess,” I said. “There’s also my dad—he doesn’t want me to be with Colby because I’m a groom.” I wondered if Susie might remember my mother. But Susie was younger than her by a good ten years, so they wouldn’t have ridden with Rob at the same time.
“He’s just looking out for you. You know how much he loves you. He’d do anything for you.”
“I know,” I said.
“Listen,” Susie said. “You’re really having a great year and I know you can win. I see it in you. Don’t let everything with Katie or Colby ruin this for you. You’ve worked too hard for that.”
Susie left, and I filled up the tack bucket in the sink with warm water. As I dunked my sponge in, I thought about what Susie had said. Maybe it was hard for Katie to be my friend. But it was also hard for me to be her friend. What if I had Stretch instead of Tobey? What if Rob treated me like Katie? But Susie was right about a few things—Dad was just looking out for me. And above all else I couldn’t let what was happening with Katie or Colby ruin my last two shows. All I had to do was look at Tara and what had happened at the Talent Search to see that it wasn’t worth it. I’d worked too hard to give up now.
After dinner I went back to the barn to do night check. Everything with Katie still clouded my mind, and I was glad for the walk and the chance to be around the horses. I loved the barn at night. Quiet—peppered only with the occasional nicker or pawing—blanketed the barn.
All the lights were off except one, but it threw enough light for me to meander down the aisle. I glanced into each stall to make sure every horse was either munching hay or napping.
When I’d checked on everybody, I went to the tack room to grab a few carrots for Tobey. I noticed the light in Rob’s office was on and I heard him talking to somebody. “Okay, when can you do it?” he was saying.
There was a long silence and I figured he had to be on the phone.
Stretch—I figured. Rob was probably talking to Doc Tanner about a procedure that might help repair his suspensory.
I went into the tack room and got the carrots out of my trunk and then went back to Tobey’s stall. He was lying down. I eased the door open and slowly stepped toward him, crouching lower as I went. I had read somewhere that a horse will let you pat him lying down only if he really trusts you, because since a horse relies on its ability to run away from predators, it’s at its most defenseless lying down. Tobey twitched once like he might get up, but I whispered to him and he rested his chin back down on the shavings. He let me kneel next to him and rub his neck. It was strange looking down on him but not being on his back. He seemed more like a great big dog than a horse.
I fed him the carrots and listened to him breathe in the soft quiet of the barn. I could have stayed in his stall forever, but I knew Dad would be wondering where I was or if one of the horses was sick or got cast rolling in its stall and couldn’t get up, so I stood up and headed back out into the aisle.
As I walked by Stretch’s stall, he popped his head over the door and whinnied. “I don’t have any left,” I said, showing him my empty hands.
I headed outside. I only made it a few steps outside the barn door when I heard someone say, “Hey.” I turned around to see Colby sitting on the bench outside the barn.
“You scared me,” I said, catching my breath. “What are you doing here?”
“Hoping to see you so we could actually talk in person.”
“What if my dad had been doing night check?”
“Then I guess I would have scared him instead of scaring you. Did I see you talking to Katie earlier?”
“Sort of.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I tried to say I was sorry, but I ended up calling her a spoiled brat, which, by the way, she probably is.”
Colby stood up and moved toward me. “I’m sick of just texting. I like the non-virtual you.”
I thought back to what Susie had said about my putting riding first. At the beginning of the finals I hadn’t thought anything could interfere. Now there was so much else going on: Colby, Katie, Becca. “I can’t do this now.”
“Because of Katie?”
“No.”
“Because of your dad?”
“Because of me. I need to focus. I can’t have any distractions—not now.”
“So that’s what I am?” Colby said. “A distraction?”
“Right now, yes,” I answered bluntly. “I can’t be going out at midnight, swimming in the pool half naked.”
“I didn’t know it was so awful,” Colby said.
“It wasn’t; it’s just that . . .” I trailed off, unsure how to explain what I was feeling. All I could think about was that horrible lady at the tack shop—Can I help you? What if Dad was right? What if things hadn’t changed since he met my mother? Maybe it was too complicated and it would never work out between us. “It just won’t work,” I said.
“That’s lame,” Colby said.
We stared at each other for a few more seconds. I wasn’t sure what else I was supposed to say. Were we breaking up? We hadn’t ever officially been together in the first place. Was I supposed to try the pathetic we’ll-still-be-friends line? When Colby didn’t say anything either, I opted for just, “See you later.”
I was twenty feet from the barn when Colby called after me: “Did you ever think this is just what you need right now?”
Chapter Fifteen
* * *
From the stands I saw Katie breathing in and out of a brown paper bag. As if she hadn’t already had the bad luck of Stretch getting hurt and having to ride a new horse at the Medal Finals, she’d drawn first in the order. I could tell by her pale face and stiff arms that she wasn’t going to be good. The horse Rob had found her, whose regular rider had broken her leg the week before, shipped straight to Harrisburg from Cincinnati. The horse was a nice bay that loped along and didn’t seem fazed by much.
No one expected Katie to be good, and so when she got around without a refusal or a completel
y terrible jump, Rob clapped loudly and even whooped. Her father was in the stands a few rows in front of me and he got up after Katie’s round was over.
I watched him walk down the aisle, and I wondered what he would do now that Katie was done riding in the equitation. Katie’s younger brother, Henry, played soccer. Maybe that would be next for Mr. Whitt, screaming from the sidelines at the referee or, more likely, at Henry.
Ten minutes later, Katie trudged up the aisle alone. I could only imagine what her father had said to her. I expected her to keep walking right past me without even acknowledging my existence like she had been all week, but to my complete surprise, she sank into the seat next to me.
“I’m so glad it’s over, Francie,” she said.
“You’re talking to me again?” I asked.
Katie sighed. “You were right. It was just after everything with Stretch and then with my dad and all that stuff with Jump Crew Jackass last summer . . . not to mention that guy at the party and the fact that I almost did something I really would have regretted. Things have just been crazy.” She shook her head. “I haven’t been myself.”
“I should have asked you about Colby first,” I offered.
Katie had tears in her eyes. I wondered if she would miss doing the equitation more than she thought she would. I leaned over and hugged her.
When Colby entered the ring a few riders later, my stomach lurched for him. As much as I’d tried to put him completely out of my mind, he’d kept popping back into it. I missed texting with him and stalking his Facebook page had become a serious problem for me. I kept thinking back to what it felt like kissing him. It made it even harder that every time I saw him he didn’t look away but just stared back at me like he was challenging me to forget him. And the problem was I couldn’t. There was definitely still something there between us.
“What’s up with you two anyway?” Katie asked as we watched Colby ride.
“I told him I couldn’t handle it right now.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because I need to concentrate, and anyway, he’s going back to California after the Maclay Finals—what’s the point?”
Katie shook her head. “At least one of us should be tapping that.”
I smiled, at Katie’s trademark vulgarity, and also because I wished it were that simple for me.
Colby finished his course, and Katie and I applauded loudly. Soon after, Tara rode into the ring on Riley. My stomach plummeted again, this time because I wanted her to mess up.
The crowd quieted. I watched Tara, and after each jump I glanced at Rob, who was leaning over the railing, practically into the ring. He had his coat and tie on for the first time this year. It was what he wore when he thought he was going to win, so he’d look good in the photos. That morning at the in gate before the course walk he’d pointed to his blazer. “I’ve got the coat on. Better not let me down.”
I prayed for Tara to make a mistake, even a small one, but as she rolled along, I realized my thoughts were useless. Ever since the Talent Search she’d been that much tougher. The crowd hushed as she neared the end. When she finished, Rob went nuts, whooping and clapping. He turned from the in gate and hugged Susie. As Tara exited, he held his hands up toward her, still clapping.
A few minutes later, Tara bounded up the stairs, not trying to repress her smile in the slightest.
“Nice ride, Tara,” someone a few rows in front of us said to her.
“Yeah, very smooth, Ex-Lax,” Katie added.
“Screw you, Katie,” Tara said. She continued up the aisle, her head held high, to where her parents waited for her. As her mother hugged her, her father showed her his list of riders. “This one’s yours, Tara,” he said.
Katie turned to me. “You have to beat her.”
“You saw her trip,” I said. “It was flawless.”
Katie grabbed my shoulders. “Beat Tara. You’re the last hope.”
Back at the stabling area Colby was unzipping his boots.
“You rode well,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said. “When do you go?”
“In twenty trips. I’m getting on now.”
I pulled my saddle off the rack and headed to Tobey’s stall. He had his head over the door like he was saying, “All right, let’s do this.” I led him into the grooming stall. I’d spent a half hour that morning currying and brushing him, so all I needed to do was run a rag over his coat, take off his tail wrap, and comb out his tail once more. I was laying the saddle pad on his back when Camillo came running in. He was completely out of breath and he kept glancing back to the tack room.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“La Migra,” he whispered.
If immigration was on the grounds, I didn’t see why Camillo was so upset—he was legal.
“Pero, eres legal,” I said.
“No tienes de que preocuparte.” Camillo bit his lip and then shook his head. “Mi—mi green card,” he stammered. “Es falsa.”
Colby must have heard us, because he came out into the aisle. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said. This wasn’t something for the clients to be involved in.
“¿Mi padre sabe?” I asked Camillo.
“No,” he answered.
“Does your dad know what?” Colby said. So much for his Spanish not being good.
Just then the announcer’s voice rang out: “The one-hundredth in the order is now fifteen trips away.”
“Damn,” I said. I only had nineteen trips until I went and Tobey wasn’t even tacked up yet. Camillo needed to get off the show grounds immediately, but if I took him, I’d miss my spot and be eliminated. I glanced at Colby and decided I had to trust him. “It’s INS. They’re on the grounds and Camillo’s not legal. Rob has no idea. And neither does my father. Camillo has a fake green card.”
“So what can I do?” Colby asked.
I headed back to the tack room, opened the junk trunk, and pulled out the keys to the farm truck. I tossed them to Colby. “Can you get him out of here?”
“Sure,” he said without even having to think about it.
I told Camillo to go with Colby, that he could trust him. To lie down on the floor of the truck and put a blanket over himself and Colby would drive him out of the show grounds. I figured, and hoped, they wouldn’t stop Colby if there was a checkpoint. And I’d cover for Camillo with Rob. I wasn’t sure what I was going to come up with, but I’d figure out something. The only thing that mattered was that Camillo didn’t end up in a detention center and then get deported.
As Camillo and Colby hustled out, I rushed to tack up Tobey and get up to the ring.
“Where the hell have you been?” Rob asked when I got to the schooling area. “You go in five trips.”
“Camillo was throwing up. I think he might have food poisoning,” I said. “He went to see the EMT.”
We did an abbreviated warm-up and then, just like that, I was in the ring. The good thing about being so rushed was I didn’t have time to get nervous. Before I knew it, I was cantering to the first jump. I found a good distance and continued around the course waiting to speed up or get anxious, but I was right there. Right on target.
The crowd hushed, and when I landed off the last jump, Rob whooped like he’d never whooped for me before.
“Great!” he gushed when I came out of the ring. “Smooth as glass. Beautiful.”
My body surged and I couldn’t stop smiling. Beautiful, that was what Rob had said, my round was beautiful.
When the first round was over, I was in third. Addison Bay was in second. Tara held the lead. I couldn’t believe I stood third out of 211 riders. But I told myself to believe it. To believe in myself.
I’d never walked the course for the second round before. I’d always watched other riders from the stands, and it felt like I’d just scored tickets to a sold-out concert. Tara headed into the ring with Rob, but I jogged a few steps to catch up with them—I wouldn’t follow this time. I flanked Rob on
the other side as we continued around the shortened course, which included a Swedish oxer set three strides off the rail, two bending lines set on the off-stride, and a roll back at the end of the ring to a spooky white gate with no standards, only one tall fern on each side.
“When this is all over, I want two ribbons today,” Rob lectured us. “First and second.”
I knew Tara assumed she’d be first and if I was lucky, I’d be second. Rob probably thought so, too. But maybe, just maybe, I’d prove them both wrong.
As we walked out of the ring, Tara pointed to a box in the stands above the in gate. “See that up there? That’s where they interview you if you win.” She paused and then added, “That’s where I’ll be when this is all over. This is my class.”
I wished I had something good to say back, but I couldn’t think of anything. I decided I would have to answer with my riding instead. Rob schooled Tara and me together, paying attention to both of us. I couldn’t believe it when he told Tara to stay in the schooling area with Susie for a few more minutes and then come up. Finally, he was taking me seriously.
By the time I reached the in gate, I was supposed to be going in, which was good because it meant my nerves couldn’t build any more than they already had. A hush fell over the crowd as I entered, and I knew it was because I had become a rider to watch. The announcer’s voice boomed out over the ring: “And now on course, Francie Martinez.”
Before I urged Tobey into a canter, I thought of Colby and how he’d been so cool about everything with Camillo. For a moment it was hard to snap back into reality, to start riding, to start my course. I only hoped he’d gotten him out safely. I forced my mind back to the course, and soon I was focused again. The fact that I was third filled me with confidence, and I rode like I believed in myself. I knew Rob was watching me intently this time, even if Tara was about to go one trip after me.
I rode each jump accurately, no mistakes. I made the bending lines work, found the distance to the Swedish off the rail, and Tobey didn’t even blink at the gate with the ferns. Solid. Rob whooped. He whooped a lot.
The Perfect Distance Page 16
