Kit Meets Covington
Page 1
Contents
Chapter 1: A Leap of Faith
Chapter 2: Out of the Gate
Chapter 3: First Impressions
Chapter 4: Sharing with Anya
Chapter 5: Fitting In
Chapter 6: Rules and Regulations
Chapter 7: Throwing Down the Gauntlet
Chapter 8: Drawing a Line in the Mud
Chapter 9: Competition Complications
Chapter 10: Playing Games
Chapter 11: The Gala
Chapter 12: Dressage Disaster
Chapter 13: Grace Kelly and Mrs. Whiskers
Chapter 14: Recovery and Revenge
Chapter 15: Baby Steps and More Revenge
Chapter 16: Tea and Landmarks
Chapter 17: Using Your Resources
Chapter 18: Model Behavior
Chapter 19: Pride & Prejudices
Chapter 20: Faking Fawkes & the Saddle Pad Blues
Chapter 21: A Heap O’ Guys & a Mounting Success
Chapter 22: S’more Trouble
Chapter 23: Coming Together
Photo Insert: Meet the Characters
Whoa! Kit Bridges thought as the plane dipped slightly, sending her stomach into yet another uncomfortable spasm. Flying didn’t bother her much, but turbulence? She could do without turbulence, especially today. Today, her life seemed to be nothing but turbulence. Well, yeah, but it’s a good turbulence, she told herself, clutching a brochure in her fist.
She had been holding that brochure since she’d started her journey from Great Falls International Airport, in Montana. From there she had arrived safely at JFK, in New York City, where she had checked her luggage, waited two hours, and boarded the huge British Airways Airbus A380 jet. Now here she sat, hurtling across the Atlantic Ocean at a bazillion miles an hour and still clutching the brochure as if her life depended on it.
THE COVINGTON ACADEMY
FOR THE
EQUESTRIAN ARTS
That’s what the brochure said, and that’s where she was headed: The Covington Academy, in England, yes, England, which was almost five thousand miles away from — well, away from what used to be home. All it took was a couple of flights, and bammo, she’d be at a new school in a new country, living a whole new life!
The person in the seat next to her gave a loud snore. Kit couldn’t help but giggle. Her father, Rudy, always snored when he napped. Usually he was pretty quiet about it, breathing deeply through his nose and only snuffling a little. But every now and then he’d let out a big honker like that one.
Kit peeked under the brown Stetson hat that covered his face to find that he was still deeply asleep. How in the world could he sleep at a time like this? Their lives were turning upside down even at this very moment, and he was snoring! That was Rudy all over, as mellow as a mountain sunset, a cool, calm cowboy through and through.
Maybe it was time for her to catch a few winks, too. Kit’s emotions had been seesawing between excitement and terror for days now. Sometimes she couldn’t really tell if she was feeling good or bad about all the changes taking place — both feelings put equal butterflies in her stomach. Oh c’mon, change is good, she told herself, especially after everything that’s happened this past year. It’s just what you need. And Dad needs it even more, though he’ll always be the last one to admit it.
She settled back in her seat and tried to relax, letting her mind wander. Not surprisingly, it wandered directly to Charlie, the friend she was leaving behind. She missed him so much already! She and Charlie were the same age: fourteen. They went to the same school, liked the same music, craved the same junk food, and even wore the same fashion style: boho chic.
Kit’s hand drifted to the necklace she was wearing, a going-away present from Charlie, who had announced that it was a “black suede crescent bolo tie with a handcrafted sterling silver lucky horseshoe adornment.” Charlie knew the precise terms for everything, from fashion styles to sports equipment. He had even been there when she’d picked out her new favorite sweater, a long purplish knit number from a thrift store. She was wearing it right now to top off her travel ensemble: layered shirts, blue jeans, a coarsely woven blue scarf with cute little bug-eyed owls on it, and her floppy red felt hat.
Kit wasn’t a fashion nut, but she had her own unique look.
If only I could call Charlie, or even just zip him a text, she thought, peeved that the airline didn’t allow passengers to use cell phones. Then I’d feel better.
She and Charlie had made up a game called Best/Worst that they played whenever one of them had to face a difficult situation. Kit imagined Charlie sitting next to her now and asking, “Okay, Kit-Cat, Best/Worst. What’s the worst thing that could happen when you get to Covington?”
Hmm, Kit thought. The worst thing would be that I’d hate it, but I don’t think I will. I think I’ll really like it.
“Then what’s the best thing that could happen when you get to Covington?” imaginary Charlie asked.
I’ll absolutely love it, Kit thought, then realized, Hey, both answers are good! Smiling, she relaxed her grip on the brochure and closed her eyes.
Time slipped away. She wasn’t sure how much, but suddenly she felt like she was back on her dad’s ranch, riding her old horse, Freckles. He was a small Appaloosa, a gentle soul that she used to ride every chance she got. As he happily carried her along Streamside Trail, she basked in the summer sun, enjoying the heady scent of flowers in bloom while songbirds trilled in the brush and —
Chaos! the world twisting and whirling, a horrible cracking pain in her foot, and drums, drums, the thunderclap of drums beating loud, so loud, so loud in her head, so many drums and pain and fear, and HER HEAD WAS GOING TO EXPLODE AND —
“Cuppa, miss?”
Kit jolted awake. What? Where am I? Who —?
She found herself staring up at one of the flight attendants, who wore a crisp blue uniform with a cute tufted cravat and jaunty cap. “Didn’t mean to startle you, young lady. Just wondering . . .” The woman gestured to her drinks cart in the narrow aisle. “Nothing like a hot cuppa to soothe the nerves, no?”
She spoke in an English accent like most of the other airline personnel Kit had met that day, though Kit heard another accent blended in, maybe Jamaican. “I’m sorry, a cup of what?” she asked, covering a yawn.
The flight attendant grinned. “Just a cuppa,” she said. “That’s what we British folk call a cup of tea.” She was clearly used to explaining British terms to American travelers.
“Oh.” Kit rubbed her eyes and straightened in her seat. “Um . . . I’ve never had tea, actually. I’m a coffee girl, like my dad.” She pointed to the softly snoring Stetson beside her.
“Well,” said the woman, “I think it’s about time you try some then, no?”
“I’m game.” Kit figured she should learn to drink the stuff if she was going to live in England. She had always heard how much British people loved tea, and she didn’t want to look like a totally hopeless newbie. “With milk and sugar, please,” she said. “That’s the way I like coffee, so chances are it’s the way I’ll like tea, right?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” The attendant picked up a plastic teacup and saucer from a stack on her cart and reached for the milk pitcher. “A bit of advice,” she said. “The secret to a really good cup of tea is to put the milk in first.” She did so, then added hot tea from a kettle.
Kit accepted the now-steaming cup and its saucer.
The flight attendant noticed the school brochure, which Kit had placed on her seatback tray. “That’s The Covington Academy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Kit set her tea on the tray. “My dad got a new job there, and I’ll be a new student. A full scholarship and everyth
ing. Pretty cool, huh?”
“You must be one fine student,” said the attendant, offering Kit a few packets of sugar.
“Er, not really,” Kit admitted. The attendant raised an eyebrow at this, but Kit said quickly, “How do you know about Covington?”
“My nephew, he goes to Tonbridge, a boys’ school in Kent,” she replied. “He’s one competitive rider, he is. I go to his shows whenever my schedule allows. Watch out, you may meet him in the arena someday.”
Only if I compete, Kit thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. The issue of her riding at Covington was going to be its own kettle of fish, as her dad phrased it. Not knowing what else to say, she added sugar to her tea, stirred, and took a sip. “Hey, this is pretty good,” she said, smacking her lips. “Way different from coffee, but good.”
“You’ve cleared your first hurdle then, so to speak.” The attendant chuckled at her equestrian pun and began to push her cart farther down the aisle to tend to the next passengers. “Oh, it’s Earl Grey, by the way.” She indicated Kit’s cup. “The tea.”
“Oh, right. Thanks.” Kit took another sip. Whoever you are, Mr. Grey, you make totally delish tea.
And tea was just the beginning, Kit was sure of it. She was going to reach England in a few hours, and life there was going to be good. Better than good. Life was going to be fantastic! I don’t know how, she thought, gazing at the Covington brochure, but I’m totally gonna rock this!
By the time the plane landed at Heathrow Airport in London, Kit wondered if she’d skipped the whole another country thing and gone straight to another planet.
To begin with, the minute she stood up from her seat, her legs went all wobbly as if the force of gravity had doubled. Her feet were so numbed out, it was like they weren’t there. Her poor rear end tingled horribly from a major attack of pins and needles, and everything sounded muffled, as if somebody had wrapped her head in a horse blanket. She knew it was because she’d been sitting for so long in a noisy jet, but that didn’t quite explain it. Everything felt different somehow. Not bad but just . . . weird, though she couldn’t say exactly why.
She heard her father’s wry chuckle. “Hey,” she grunted, “stop laughing at me.”
“Then quit being so funny,” Rudy grunted right back at her. He steadied her as she wobbled out of the plane, through the connecting walkway, and into the terminal, where they spent way too much time collecting their luggage, going through customs, and finding a cab. Kit’s senses had a chance to slowly balance out, though, and after grabbing a quick pastry snack for energy, father and daughter embarked on the last leg of their journey: the drive from London to The Covington Academy itself.
“Oh, my gosh, this is going to be so great, Dad!” Kit enthused as their driver took them out of the city and into the English countryside. “I know we’ve both been totally freaking out, but change is good.” She’d been convincing herself to believe it for days. Now that she was actually in England, she did believe it!
The pastry’s sugar jolt helped.
Rudy stared out the window. “I am not freaking out,” he assured her in a tone that said exactly the opposite.
Kit couldn’t resist saying, “You’re wearing your lucky flannel.”
Rudy glanced down at his blue-checked flannel shirt. He wasn’t the kind of guy who really believed in luck, yet he did think of the shirt as his “lucky flannel.” Go figure.
“Don’t worry, Dad. You are going to be the best chief equestrian supervisor England has ever seen!”
Rudy sighed. “It just all happened so fast. First the mystery package in the mail . . .”
“The phone call where we couldn’t understand a word the lady was saying!” Kit laughed. “And now we’re here! The Covington Academy! A fancy new school for me, a stable full of horses for you — it’s a win-win!” When her father didn’t respond, Kit knew why. The sadness in his eyes broke her heart. “Mom would be so psyched that we’re doing this,” she told him softly.
He nodded. “She always did want to bring us to England.”
“The country she grew up in,” Kit said, gazing out the window. And what a country it is! she thought. She had always considered her family’s little corner of northern Montana to be a land of green mountains, green trees, and rolling meadows full of wild green grass, but compared to England? It didn’t compare.
The English countryside practically exploded green in every direction. Even the barriers that separated the countless plots of land were green. Hedgerows, they were called — long rows of bushes and trees instead of wooden fencing. Even the dirt looks green! Kit thought, giggling to herself. Of course the dirt wasn’t green. It was brown, like regular old dirt. Yet to her eyes, there was an unusual quality to it that she’d never seen before, a deep richness that spoke of frequent rain and wind and thick morning fog. It’s alien dirt, she thought, but not for long. This dirt is about to become home turf!
“So.” Rudy draped an arm around Kit’s shoulders. “Equestrian academy. Does this mean you might actually get on a horse?”
“Not a chance, Rudy. I’m sure it’s not like everyone rides. There’s probably a ton of other stuff to do.”
Rudy rolled his eyes. “It’s Dad,” he drawled, “and will you promise me that you’ll at least consider it? Remember —”
Kit knew what was coming next, so she recited her dad’s favorite saying along with him: “If you haven’t fallen off a horse, you haven’t ridden long enough.”
“Everyone falls off, kiddo,” Rudy added.
Kit just frowned. “Not like that,” she muttered. Her thoughts turned dark, dark enough to bring her mood crashing down.
And then she saw it: her new school. “Holy cow!” Any further words got stuck in her throat as their cab turned off the country road and onto an enormous gravel driveway. The cabbie brought them right up to the front door of the main building.
Her mouth hanging open, Kit fumbled her way out of the cab. “Rudy,” she finally said, “this place is like a castle!”
“Kit,” her father pleaded, “stop calling me Rudy.”
A familiar rumble in the earth made Kit turn just as several students in slick riding uniforms rode by on smartly groomed horses, their hooves clattering against the gravel. They were followed by a young man running and waving his arms wildly. “Circle wide, left flank!” he yelled to several other boys with him. “Move, move, move!”
Rudy’s cowboy instincts kicked in. “They need help,” he told Kit. “Stay here!”
The riders who had just passed dismounted and ran back to offer assistance as the ground rumbled again. Something huge and black thundered out of nowhere and rushed straight at Kit.
I just got here, and now I’m gonna die! Kit thought, too terrified to move.
“Watch out!” Somebody grabbed her and pulled her safely to one side.
Kit barely noticed her savior. All she could do was gape as a beautiful black horse reared up with a wild rebel whinny, his front hooves pawing the air right where she’d been standing. He had no rider and no saddle or bridle. Kit figured he must have escaped the stables. She watched, mesmerized, as the horse pranced first one way then the other, trying to find a path to freedom through the ring of humans slowly closing around him. Kit barely heard her dad’s soft voice calmly issuing instructions to the students so that they could safely capture the animal.
“Sorry,” came another voice, much closer and very much louder. Kit whirled around to find herself face-to-face with her savior, a handsome . . . very handsome . . . young man with an expression of concern on his face. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure I got you out of the way in time.”
“Wh-what was that?” Kit managed to ask.
Seeing that she was all right, he relaxed. “Covington’s wildest resident. He’s impossible to tame. I’m surprised they haven’t shipped him off.”
The young man’s unusual accent finally pulled Kit out of her daze. She looked at him properly an
d almost did a double take. “Are you for real? You look just like a guy from those old movies, the ones I watch for school instead of reading the book!” She felt a silly grin spread across her face. He was really cute. Really. Really.
The young man grinned back. “I’m Nav Andrada. I haven’t seen you before. Are you new to Covington?”
“Oh, uh, Kit Bridges.” Kit stuck out her hand. Nav shook it in welcome while beaming an utterly charming smile at her. His suave manner only made her feel awkward. Oh, yeah, I’m as new to Covington as you can get, she thought, saying aloud, “What was your first clue?”
Nav chuckled. “Don’t worry. The first day of school is overwhelming for all of us. Once you’re sorted, we shall go out for a ride. Hasta luego, Kit Bridges.” He sauntered away, leaving Kit stunned all over again. Castles and wild beasts and knights in tailored suits who rescue clueless maidens, she thought, trying to make sense of all the weirdness around her.
“Are you all right, Kit?” Rudy asked, rejoining her while one of the boys led the recaptured gelding back toward the stable.
Kit was still reeling from what Nav had said: we shall go for a ride. . . . “Yeah, but Dad, you may have been right. I think every single person here rides. And did you see that crazy horse?”
“Should we make a run for it?” Rudy asked.
For a split second, Kit actually took the question seriously, probably because her heart was still pounding. But to leave? Now? “No way! We’re the Bridges. We can totally do this. Check it.” She turned to the main school building. “We live in a castle now!”
“Watch your back!”
Kit spun around to see the black gelding loose again, and again he was heading right for her. “On second thought,” she told her dad, “run!”
She and Rudy bolted through their new castle’s front door.
Dad, that horse was coming straight at me,” Kit panted once they were inside. “Me!” She didn’t know what to think. It was as if the animal had picked her out of the crowd on purpose. Twice!
Rudy took his daughter’s reaction in stride. “Glad to see you didn’t lose your flair for the dramatic on the flight over, Kit.” He took off his Stetson and surveyed the school’s main lobby.