Crown Prince

by Linda Snow McLoon

  CHAPTER 5

  The Tack Shop

  IT WAS LATE FRIDAY AFTERNOON when Mrs. Wagner drove cautiously into the Atlantic Saddlery’s crowded parking lot to drop off Sarah and Kayla. From the number of cars in the lot, it was obvious the shop was crammed with shoppers hoping to take advantage of grand opening specials. Sarah reached into her pocket, just to make sure the gift card Mrs. DeWitt had given her was still there, along with the list of things she wanted to buy for her new horse.

  Mrs. Wagner excused herself from the shopping venture. “I wouldn’t know a halter from a bridle, so I wouldn’t be any help,” she told Sarah. “But Kayla will have some good ideas. I’ll be back in about an hour after I do some errands.”

  Sarah had never been more excited. In fact, all day it had been hard to think of anything other than the horse she’d be getting on Saturday and today’s trip to the tack shop. She had always loved leafing through the pages of tack shop catalogs, but she’d never actually thought she would be shopping for things for her own horse one day.

  Sarah and Kayla hopped out of the SUV and headed for the door where a stiff ocean breeze whipped red balloons on the sign that announced the shop’s opening. Inside, they were met by the strong smell of leather and a dizzying amount of horse tack on display. Several bins of merchandise had signs announcing special bargains. At the far side of the shop, a woman wearing an Atlantic Saddlery polo shirt was celebrating the opening by serving complimentary punch and cookies while she chatted with customers.

  “I’m sure glad you could come with me,” Sarah said, as she picked up a shopping basket. “There’s so much I need to buy. Jack gave me some ideas on what things I’ll need right away, but I’m still not sure where to start.”

  “This is going to be a total blast!” Kayla said. “Do you remember when my mom took us to the tack shop in Bradley when I first got Fanny? Now it’s your turn.”

  While Sarah’s riding experience was limited to lessons at Brookmeade, Kayla had gotten her first pony when she was seven. Kayla’s father had attached a modest two-stall barn to the back of their garage so her mother’s horse could be stabled at home, and not long after the barn was finished, Kayla’s first pony, Fuzzy, had moved in. When Kayla outgrew the pony, a small horse named Chubs took his place. She’d moved up to her Quarter Horse two years ago. The Romanos didn’t have much land, just enough for a small turnout area and riding ring, but they lived close to an undeveloped land preserve where they could hack on miles of trails. Last year they’d invested in a horse trailer so Kayla could take Fanny to Brookmeade for lessons and go to a few horse shows.

  “Are you sure you can’t come with me to the track tomorrow?” Sarah asked. She studied Kayla’s face closely, hoping for an encouraging response.

  “I promised I’d babysit for the Nelsons almost a month ago, and I can’t back out now. I wish I could. I’m coming right over to Brookmeade as soon as I get home.”

  “Oh, Kayla, I can’t believe the DeWitts are doing this for me! I’ve dreamed of getting a horse for so long, and now it’s actually going to happen.”

  “Yeah, it’s awesome! It’s been totally different for me,” Kayla said. “Having a mother who rides makes a big difference.”

  “You’ve had your own horse for so long. Did you ever get a little bored with riding?”

  “If I did, I knew better than to tell my mother. Actually, I remember getting tired of riding Chubs. He was fat and lazy, and it wasn’t much fun taking him for a trail ride. My mother bought him because she thought he was a safe ride. He sure was—all he wanted to do was walk. Having Fanny has made all the difference.”

  “I always thought you had it made,” Sarah said. “If you weren’t my best friend, I’d have been pretty jealous.”

  “Now everyone at the barn thinks you’re the lucky one!” replied Kayla with a grin. “But maybe they don’t realize you’ll have to work to pay for board and lessons. Just think, you’ll get to choose from four horses! Before long we’ll be able to go riding on the trails and maybe even go to shows together.”

  The girls moved out of the way of customers headed for the door, some with large bags. One woman struggled by them laden with a dressage saddle, a saddle rack, and a grooming caddy.

  Kayla looked around. “It looks like this place has tons of stuff. You should be able to get everything you’ll need right here. And maybe I can find a set of green polo wraps for Fanny.”

  “Green goes great with a chestnut,” Sarah said. “But I don’t even know what color my horse will be. Mrs. DeWitt said I should wait on some things, until I know more about the horse. She said that of the four horses, two are chestnuts, one’s a dark bay, and the fourth is gray.”

  “Wow!” Kayla’s hazel eyes widened as she looked at Sarah. “Maybe the gray will have dapples and a silver tail, something like Quarry. That used to be my favorite horse color until I got Fanny.”

  The girls moved to a display of wrap-around shipping boots. “You’ll need a set of these for trailering the horse from the track. And the sign says they’re half price!”

  “They come in quite a few colors,” Sarah said, hesitating.

  “How about black?” Kayla suggested. “Black is good with any color horse. And that style gives great protection.”

  “Good idea,” Sarah said, as she plopped a set into her basket. “Another thing on my list is a lead shank. Jack said that each horse at the track has his own halter, but not a shank. He said not to get a rope lead, but to find a leather one with a fairly long brass shank. It will last longer.”

  Kayla grinned. “Remember how Quarry chewed up Paige’s rope lead when she left it in his stall? She said he turned it into a slobbery glob of strings.” They laughed as they worked their way through a throng of shoppers to a rack of leather leads. Sarah looked them over for a few minutes. “The shank on this one looks plenty long enough,” she said, choosing one and dropping it into her basket.

  Taking Sarah by the arm, Kayla pulled her toward some bins that held various kinds of brushes. “Here’s your grooming stuff.”

  Sarah glanced down at her list. “Let’s see, for grooming equipment I’ll need a stiff dandy brush, a soft brush, a curry comb, and a hoof pick.”

  “Don’t forget a mane comb and a brush for the tail. And you’d better get a pulling comb if you want to keep his mane short and thin for braiding,” advised Kayla.

  “Well, it’ll be awhile before I have to think about that.”

  “Hello?” Kayla said. “Even if you don’t braid right away, you’ll want his mane to look nice.”

  Sarah nodded as she put her selections into the basket, noticing it was getting heavy. She saw a number of grooming caddies stacked on the floor and considered the colors. As if reading her mind, Kayla picked up a red one. “Will this do?” she asked.

  “Perfect,” Sarah said. She looked down at her list. “What about hoof dressing?”

  “That’s a total no-brainer if you don’t want your horse losing shoes.” Kayla pointed to a pile of nested pails in the corner. “You’re also going to need a wash bucket, horse shampoo, and a sponge, no matter what color the horse is!” she added. “And don’t forget a sweat scraper.”

  Sarah laughed. “Slow down! At this rate, I won’t be able to carry everything out of here.”

  Moving to another area of the shop, the girls spotted a collection of model horses on a cabinet by the window. The different breeds had been designed in fine detail, from high-stepping Sad-dlebreds to Appaloosas with spotted rumps. Kayla immediately picked up the Quarter Horse model.

  “Look, Sarah. Except for the color, this Quarter Horse looks exactly like Fanny!”

  “Cool. There must be a Thoroughbred here somewhere,” Sarah said, her eyes running over the display. “Oh, here it is.” She held up a finely molded model identified as the famous racehorse Seabiscuit. After looking at it carefully, she said, “I hope my horse looks just like this!”

  Another model, so dark it seemed to be pure black, s
tood near the Thoroughbred. As Sarah looked more closely, she exclaimed, “It’s a Dutch Warmblood, and it sure looks a lot like Chancellor. Rita’s probably got one of these.”

  Kayla raised an eyebrow. “There isn’t much Rita doesn’t have.”

  “Yeah, it seems like all Rita has to do is mention she’d like something, and her father runs out and buys it for her,” Sarah said. “And what a bragger she is. She’s constantly telling everyone how much better Chancellor is than any other horse in the world. Give me a break!”

  Kayla lowered her voice. “Judson told my mom why she’s spoiled rotten. Did you know that Rita’s mother died right after she was born? Mr. Snyder named Rita after her mother. He never got married again, so she’s never even had a stepmother. Judson said that Rita’s father is always trying to make it up to Rita.”

  “Gee, I didn’t know that. I’ve wondered about her mother,” Sarah said. “That’s a tough break. And I guess it explains a lot of things.”

  They passed a section devoted to rider clothing, displaying several styles of riding helmets, hunt coats, and boots. On their way to the saddle section, they passed the woman serving refreshments. She pointed to the table where jumbo raisin cookies were laid out on napkins. “You girls are doing quite a bit of shopping,” the woman said. “Why don’t you take a break with some punch and one of our super cookies?”

  Kayla looked longingly at the cookies and then back at Sarah. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to lose five pounds before the summer show season begins. I guess I’d better skip the cookies.”

  “I guess I’ll pass too,” Sarah said to the woman. “But thanks.”

  “You’re lucky you don’t have to worry about your weight,” Kayla whispered, as they moved out of the way to avoid some little girls and their mothers approaching the snack table. Just then they heard a familiar voice behind them.

  “Hey, look who’s here!” The girls turned to see Tim and Paige grinning from ear to ear. Both wore riding breeches, and Tim carried a navy blue sheet for Rhodes under his arm.

  “I heard the DeWitts have some connections so you can get a horse from Raceland Park. Is that right?” Tim asked Sarah.

  “Yeah,” Sarah said. “We’re supposed to go tomorrow. The DeWitts are being just super. They’re letting us use the Brookmeade truck and trailer. But this is all happening so fast—I still can’t believe it!”

  “I hope you get a terrific horse,” Paige said. “Just make sure it’s not a confirmed runaway.”

  Laughing, Tim took Paige’s arm as he started for the checkout. “Come on. We need to hurry if we’re going to ride.”

  Paige waved to the girls. “Good luck, Sarah. I can hardly wait to see your horse!”

  Sarah and Kayla watched them walk away. Kayla leaned closer to say in a low voice, “I’ll bet a lot of girls would love to date Tim. He’s pretty cool. And guys would be interested in Paige if she wasn’t already taken.”

  “I bet you wouldn’t mind dating someone like Tim,” Sarah said, looking for Kayla’s reaction.

  “I’d have to shed some pounds first,” Kayla said. “And who would take a second look at someone with a face full of freckles?”

  “Aw, you’re too hard on yourself,” Sarah said.

  Kayla scowled. “If I could only be as lucky as Paige. She’s skinny as a twig and her face looks like she’s never had a zit.”

  “Well, Rita makes no secret of how she feels,” Sarah said. “She’d like to give Paige a one-way ticket to Mongolia. As if Rita has any chance with Tim!” Her face sobered. “I just wish Rita would stop crowing all the time about how perfect Chancellor is!”

  “Rita is weird,” Kayla said. “She can be totally obnoxious, and then out of the blue she’ll do something really nice. And sometimes she’s so funny. You never know what to expect from her. She’s an amazing rider, I must admit, and with that horse she’ll be hard to beat.”

  The girls went down an aisle that seemed to have every kind of horse product imaginable, from shampoo to antibiotic ointments to fly spray. Sarah resisted the urge to pick up one of everything. She looked down at her overflowing basket and frowned. “I just hope my gift card will cover all this!”

  As they headed to another wall rack loaded with bridles and bits, they saw Rita Snyder heading their way, squeezing between shoppers. Rita set her loaded shopping basket down when she got to them. She looked puzzled when she saw Sarah’s basket. “Why are you getting all that stuff?”

  “Sarah’s getting a horse,” Kayla said. “She’ll be picking it up at Raceland Park on Saturday. Isn’t that awesome?”

  Rita’s green eyes widened in surprise. “No kidding! From the racetrack? I guess you want something faster than Gray Fox to run away with you the next time,” she said, grinning.

  Sarah didn’t know what to say, but Kayla came to her rescue. “He’ll sure leave Chancellor in his dust.”

  Rita ignored the jab and turned to Sarah. “Tell me about this new horse.”

  “There are four Thoroughbreds this trainer wants to weed out, and I get to pick one of them. We’ll bring him back to Brookmeade.” Trying to change the subject, she pointed to the display of model horses. “There’s a Dutch Warmblood here that looks a lot like Chancellor. Have you seen it?”

  Rita sniffed. “I’ve already got two. My dad and my grandmother got their wires crossed and both gave me one for my birthday. She looked at Sarah’s basket and frowned. “If you’re getting a horse, you’ll need more than that. I’ve got a whole closet full of stuff in my tackroom.”

  “If you have so much already, how come you’re buying all that?” Sarah asked, pointing to Rita’s full basket.

  “Oh, I like to try different brands. And some of my stuff is getting tired.” She paused a moment. “You know, since you’re just getting started, Sarah, I’ll bring a box of things to the barn for you. Maybe you’ll be able to use some of it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It will just go into the trash for Judkins to take to the dump. You might as well take it. But I gotta go,” Rita said, as she picked up her basket. After she’d started for the checkout, she hesitated and turned back. “Any chance you guys would like to go to the beach with me? I want to check out the new shops that are just opening for the season. The Sweet Shop is supposed to be cool, and there’s a new Abercrombie down there now.”

  Kayla and Sarah looked at each other and then back at Rita. “It doesn’t work for me,” Sarah said. “My mom will be getting back here pretty soon to pick us up.”

  “Another time,” Kayla said. “Sarah will never carry all her stuff out of the shop without my help!”

  When Rita was out of sight, Sarah said, “Offering me some of her stuff was the nice side of Rita.”

  “With the Visa card her father gave her, she can afford to be generous,” Kayla replied.

  Sarah scrutinized her list again. “I hope I’m not forgetting something important. I wonder how much all this will cost. The gift card has got to cover a bridle and saddle too, once I know my horse’s size. And a winter blanket.”

  Seeing her friend’s furrowed brow and her familiar anxious look, Kayla tugged at her sleeve. “There you go again, worrying. Will you ever chill out? Come on. Help me find some green polo wraps so we can check out before your mom gets back.”

  CHAPTER 6

  The Racetrack

  WITH JACK AT THE WHEEL, Sarah in the back, and her father sitting in the front passenger seat, the white Brookmeade Farm pickup nosed slowly onto Ridge Road, heading to the interstate. It was Saturday, and they were bound for Raceland Park. The Brookmeade Farm logo on the side of the horse trailer they were pulling was barely visible in the fog and the light rain that fell. The windshield wipers swished back and forth intermittently as the truck crept along the winding country road, its headlights making the fog seem even thicker.

  Sarah held a tote bag filled with some of her purchases from the tack shop. She rummaged through it, running her hand over the smooth leather of t
he lead shank. Closing her eyes, she imagined leading her new horse into the barn at Brookmeade Farm. What would he look like? Would she end up with the gray, the bay, or one of the chestnuts? Color isn’t important, she thought. When I see my horse, I’ll know he’s the one.

  She leaned her head back and tried to envision the things she’d do with her horse. First she was riding him leisurely through the old orchard on the ridge, letting him eat a few apples along the way. Then they were galloping up the hill from the lower meadow, flying over the stone wall. Then they were performing a faultless dressage test, doing a flying change at X. Then they were….

  Jack’s voice brought her back to reality. “Sarah, have you given any thought to what you’ll be looking for in a horse? It will help if you have some idea what’s most important.”

  They were on the interstate now, and while the drizzle persisted, the fog had all but disappeared. The truck picked up speed as Sarah hesitated. Had she given any thought to what her new horse might be like? Where should she start?

  “What do you think?” she asked, dodging the question.

  “Well, an agreeable temperament counts for a lot. You don’t want a horse that will battle you every step of the way, or one that’s too excitable. And of course you don’t want one that bites or kicks. I know the DeWitts don’t want you to get an aggressive horse, one that might hurt you. Or for that matter, neither would your parents.” Jack glanced at her father. “But then, I hardly think the trainer, Rudy Dominic, will show us a horse with a mean streak.”

  “Sarah, you must have some idea of what you want,” Mr. Wagner said to his daughter.

  Sarah thought for a minute before answering. “Most of all, I want a horse that will be my friend.”

  The men chuckled, but Jack replied, “Actually, I know what you mean, Sarah. You want a horse you can bond with. ’Tis true. Horses and riders can often tell what the other is thinking, and they come to trust each other. When I was competing Donegal Lad in Ireland and we were approaching a big cross-country obstacle, I might feel him hesitate slightly. That told me he wasn’t sure he could jump it. I would sit deep and close my legs, using my body language to tell him it was a go, to be sure. That’s all he needed to make good sport of it, because he trusted me. And it works both ways. If a rider is tense or nervous, his horse will pick up on that and might refuse.”