by Suzanne Weyn
Taylor sat in the hay with her back to the wall, and Claire loaded the fawn into her lap. “Oh, it’s so precious,” Taylor whispered, overcome with fondness for the defenseless baby animal. Taking the bottle from Claire, she tipped it to the fawn’s lips, and the baby guzzled voraciously.
“Not too much,” Claire warned. “A little at a time.”
Mrs. LeFleur came to watch alongside Claire. “It’s good you went to look for it,” she commented. “How did you know it would be there?”
“Taylor got worried when she saw a dead deer on the road and then heard coyotes at night,” Claire told her.
“Yes, the coyotes worry me, too,” Mrs. LeFleur agreed. “What if one got into the stable? I imagine in nature the horses would kick and rear. But in their stalls they’re too confined to really defend themselves.”
“Some people keep llamas,” Claire said.
“Llamas?” Mrs. LeFleur echoed in surprise.
“Yeah,” Claire said. “They’re very fierce against coyotes, I hear.”
Taylor was barely listening; all her attention was focused on the fawn. How sweet it was! It had waited so bravely for its mother to return, never wandering from its spot.
Mrs. LeFleur and Claire left her there with the fawn. Taylor fed it for a few more minutes, keeping her eyes on its lovely little face with its glistening black nose. Sensing that someone had come into the stall, Taylor glanced up and found Eric looking down at her.
“Hi, what are you doing here?” she asked quietly.
“I wanted to talk to Mrs. LeFleur,” he said, coming inside and sitting on the floor beside her. “You look very natural sitting there feeding that fawn; like you’ve been doing it all your life.”
Taylor smiled at that. “Thanks,” she said. “But believe me, this is the first deer I have ever fed from a bottle.”
“You’d never know it.”
“What did you have to talk to Mrs. LeFleur about?” Taylor asked, pulling the bottle away as the fawn drifted to sleep in her arms.
“Remember I told you Ralph Westheimer laid me off?” Eric said, and Taylor nodded. “So I was wondering if Mrs. LeFleur could hire me.”
“I doubt it. Her money is pretty tight. You know how we all volunteer here. And Mercedes has still been coming to the barn, even though she’s not supposed to.”
“Does Mrs. LeFleur know Mercedes isn’t supposed to be coming here?” Eric asked.
“No,” Taylor replied, shaking her head.
“Don’t you think she should? Mercedes’ mother might get even more angry at Wildwood if she finds out Mercedes has been coming to the ranch without permission.”
“Maybe so,” Taylor allowed, “but I don’t want to be the one to tell her. You shouldn’t, either.”
Eric sighed. “If I volunteered to work for Jojo’s board, do you think Mrs. LeFleur might go for that?”
“Possibly,” Taylor considered. “That’s how I board Pixie and Prince Albert here.”
The fawn stirred in its sleep and then lifted its head, seeming to search for the bottle. “Want to feed it?” Taylor offered.
“Okay,” Eric agreed, taking the bottle and holding it for the baby deer.
“Have you named it yet?” Eric asked softly.
“No. Do you think we should?” Taylor asked him. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“Give it a name that would suit either way,” Eric suggested.
Taylor gazed down at the white spots speckling the deer’s soft brown coat. “Spots?” she suggested uncertainly. “Maybe not. It won’t always have spots. A deer loses them as it gets older.”
He nodded and stroked the fawn. “It must have been a late season birth, because a fawn is usually losing its spots by October. It’s unusual, but I’ve seen spotted fawns in October occasionally.”
Taylor looked at him with admiration. He seemed to know so many things in so many areas.
“I like the name Spots,” Eric went on. “Later on, when the spots are gone, it will remind us of when it did have spots.”
Taylor looked at Eric, and he met her gaze. Us? Taylor liked the sound of it. Us. She suddenly noticed that, for the first time, she felt comfortable with him, not all jumpy and nervous inside. It was a good feeling. “I suppose Spots could be an all right name,” she agreed.
Taylor loved having Eric so close, right there next to her as she fed the deer. She felt so peaceful and happy. It seemed like one of those things that could only happen at Wildwood Stables.
By the following Saturday, Mercedes had given Taylor five more English riding lessons. Today, Taylor’s legs ached from all the hard work as she stuck one foot in the stirrup and swung onto the saddle. She groaned, shifting around in the seat, fixing her stirrups to the appropriate shorter length.
“Come on! You can’t be that tired, we haven’t even started the good stuff yet!” Mercedes said, shaking her head.
Mercedes made her way over to the side of the corral and dragged out the PVC pipes they had been working on. Going over ground poles in two-point position was the intro to jumping. Taylor had been practicing her jumping position as Prince Albert trotted over the poles, picking up his knees so not to knock into them.
It helped that Prince Albert had clearly done all this before. At least one of them wasn’t completely new to English riding. Mercedes had explained all the basics of jumping to Taylor and even lent her a book on it. All of it made sense to Taylor — but the thought of actually doing a jump made her stomach tighten with fear.
As Taylor began her warm-up laps at a walk, she noticed something different about today. Mercedes was dragging more poles than usual into the center of the ring. What was she planning?
After a few laps, Taylor picked up her trot, making certain to get the correct diagonal, just as Mercedes had taught her. She glanced down to Prince Albert’s outside leg as it swung forward, while she rose out of the saddle at the same time. Mercedes had been right — English was a lot harder at first, but she had quickly gotten used to it.
“What’re you using those extra poles for?” Taylor shouted to Mercedes, who was dragging what looked like even more pieces of jumps into the ring.
“I thought you said you wanted to learn how to jump,” Mercedes responded, not turning to look at Taylor as she hoisted one of the pipes onto a rail. “I’m setting up cross rails for your first jump.”
Taylor halted Prince Albert.
Jump?
Now?
It felt like she had only just begun to ride English!
Taylor’s heart fluttered. She had been waiting for this for so long, and now that it was finally here, she was suddenly nervous. “But … uh … don’t you think I should practice the poles some more?” she stammered, her voice suddenly small.
“Don’t freak out on me. We’ve gotten this far, you’re not backing down now,” Mercedes demanded, folding her arms over her chest.
“But …” Taylor began to protest.
“No buts!” Mercedes insisted. “It’s not even a big jump. It’s the lowest the cross rail will go. You’ll be fine.”
“But, no,” Taylor protested again. “I’m not ready.”
“Taylor!” Mercedes shouted, throwing her arms wide with exasperation. “You have less than two more weeks until the competition! Did you forget that? I know it’s a beginner’s contest, but you have to begin to be a beginner.”
Taylor cringed. She had just assumed that by the time Mercedes set up an actual jump she would feel ready. But she wasn’t one bit ready!
“Just stay in your two-point when you go over,” Mercedes told her, repeating instructions she’d already given to Taylor. “Give Prince Albert plenty of reins so he can stretch his neck out, and be strong. We’ve gone over this plenty of times. Now go! Try it!” Mercedes finished, looking at Taylor expectantly.
Taylor looked at the cross rail. It was two horizontal crossed pipes with a vertical supporting pipe at each end.
That was the lowest it would go?
It looked awfully high from Prince Albert’s back.
Taylor took a deep breath and patted Prince Albert’s neck, whispering to him. “You’ll take care of me, boy, won’t you?”
As he always did when she spoke to him, Prince Albert responded. This time it was with a neigh that Taylor wanted to believe sounded confident.
Taylor stroked his neck and sat upright. “Okay, let’s try this jump!”
In the center of the ring, Mercedes tapped her foot, clearly becoming impatient with Taylor’s nervousness. Taking another deep breath, Taylor clucked at Prince Albert and trotted around the outside of the ring, keeping her eyes on the jump as Mercedes had told her to do.
She stared down at the jump as it got closer and closer.
Her grip on the reins tightened as they approached, and she leaned forward into her practiced two-point.
Taylor squeezed her eyes shut and winced as Prince Albert picked up his front two feet and hopped over the jump, clearing it with ease and landing lightly on the other side.
Mercedes laughed from the center of the ring as Taylor and Prince Albert trotted out of the jump.
“Don’t shut your eyes next time!” she said, still laughing at Taylor’s beginner mistake.
Taylor opened her eyes and looked around.
She had done it! Cleared her first jump! It was a bit jerkier than she had expected, but not that bad!
Her heart raced and adrenaline pumped through her system. Prince Albert even seemed to enjoy it as he pranced around the outside of the ring, ears perked, ready to go again.
“I did it! Prince Albert did it! We both did it!” Taylor shouted exuberantly, patting Prince Albert’s neck.
“Now do it again — less sloppy this time, and with your eyes open!” Mercedes instructed.
“Sloppy?” Taylor frowned. She’d thought it had gone pretty well.
“Yes, sloppy. You were all hunched forward and crunching your face, like something was going to hit you,” Mercedes told her. “Plus, your leg was way too far behind you. Pull that leg underneath your body, and I want you to sit up nice and straight, shoulders back, chin up, and look where you’re going.”
Taylor supposed Mercedes had a point. She was scared the first time, and her eyes were shut.
Nudging Prince Albert forward into a trot again, Taylor rounded the arena toward the jump. This time, she had her eyes glued on the cross rails. She made sure her leg was in the correct position, her shoulders were back, and her chin was up in an almost defiant manner.
Taking a deep breath as Prince Albert sped up a bit, she jumped. Grinning, Taylor watched the jump go by underneath her.
She’d cleared it!
That was perfect!
Mercedes couldn’t say anything about that one!
Filled with pride, Taylor turned toward Mercedes. “How’d you like that?” she asked with a hint of boastfulness.
“Are you kidding?” Mercedes cried, slapping her palm to her forehead. “When I say ‘keep your eyes on the jump’ I don’t mean stare at it like it’s going to bite you!”
“I didn’t!” Taylor protested.
“Always look where you want to go — not at the ground.”
Taylor pouted for a lap. She thought she had done a good job on that one.
“Now, do it again,” Mercedes demanded. “Look at the jump — don’t bug-eyed stare at it. And make sure to breathe. You keep tensing up before going over. Jumping is supposed to be a very fluid motion, and you look so stiff up there.”
“One more time. Okay, boy?” Taylor requested of Prince Albert, petting his neck again.
Prince Albert snorted and picked up his trot without even being asked. Taylor gritted her teeth in determination. She was going to make sure Mercedes had nothing bad to say about this next jump. She glanced down at Prince Albert’s outside leg, rising up on the correct diagonal. She posted her way around the ring and was about to focus her gaze on the jump when someone standing at the gate caught her eye. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Oh, no, Taylor thought, anyone but him.
Prince Albert rounded the ring, heading toward the jump.
Eric was right there!
Watching!
Taylor’s eyes instantly went from being fixed on the jump to being fixed on Eric.
“Pay attention!” Mercedes shouted, seeing Taylor’s distraction.
But it was too late.
Prince Albert was already leaving the ground for the jump before Taylor could get up into position. Her breath caught in her throat as she was thrust backward.
Prince Albert sailed through the air — without her.
Taylor landed with a thud on her butt, dust flying up around her.
After clearing the jump, Prince Albert stopped on the other side. He turned around to look for his rider.
Taylor groaned and rubbed her back.
“Are you all right?” Eric shouted, hurrying forward from the gate to help her. He reached out a hand to her to pull her up.
Taylor’s face flushed red with embarrassment. The hurt of being seen falling by Eric was much worse than the hurt of the actual fall. Prince Albert nickered loudly, as if to say, “Hey! You belong on my back, not on the ground!”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” Taylor grumbled, brushing the dirt off of her jeans. She didn’t dare to make eye contact with Eric.
She’d fallen once before when he was around, but somehow this time it seemed more humiliating. Back then, she hadn’t really known him too well. Now she could sense some new relationship was forming between them, and it was more important that he thought well of her.
Mercedes jogged forward, grabbing Prince Albert’s reins.
“If you look at the ground, then that’s where you’re going to go!” Mercedes scolded, not at all concerned that Taylor had fallen.
Eric brushed some dirt off of Taylor’s back. In another situation, she might have been thrilled to have him touching her, but this wasn’t what she’d had in mind. “It’s okay, everyone falls,” he said kindly.
“That’s what Daphne says,” Taylor mentioned as she brushed dirt from her jeans.
“Because it’s true,” Eric said.
He was so sweet, and she liked him so much!
“Yeah, well, if she had been looking above the cross rails and not under them, she wouldn’t have fallen,” Mercedes put in.
“She’s just learning,” Eric defended Taylor.
“Did you talk to Mrs. LeFleur? Are you volunteering here now?” Taylor asked Eric hopefully, more than ready to change the subject.
“Yep.”
“Great! And are you bringing JoJo here?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Awesome! Is that why you’re here today?”
“No, not really. Plum asked me to help her with her jumps. She’s entering the beginner jumping contest over at Ross River.”
Taylor stared at him, not sure of what she was hearing. “She’s entering the advanced jumper, you mean.” She was confident it was what he’d meant to say.
“No, the beginner,” Eric insisted.
“Plum?!” Mercedes asked.
“But she’s not a beginner,” Taylor protested, her voice overlapping Mercedes’.
“She’s not all that advanced, either. She’s probably somewhere in between.”
Taylor looked to Mercedes. “Can she do that?”
“I suppose it’s up to her to decide what class she wants to be in,” Mercedes replied. “Why is she doing it, though?”
“She wants the lessons,” Eric answered. “They have great instructors over at Ross River.”
“She wants to keep me from winning,” Taylor argued, folding her arms angrily. “Are you helping her?” she asked Eric.
“She’s my cousin,” he answered.
Taylor didn’t consider that a good enough answer, and she kept her angry gaze on Eric, silently waiting for more explanation.
“Okay, I was helping her because she’s my cousin, but she was being suc
h a little brat that I walked away and came over here,” Eric admitted.
“You were going to help her beat me?” Taylor asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m entering that contest!”
“But this is your first jumping lesson, and the contest is less than two weeks away,” Eric pointed out. “How can you possibly enter?”
“It’s for beginner jumpers,” Taylor reminded him.
“But you’re not a beginner jumper. You’re not even a jumper at all yet,” Eric insisted.
“She will be!” Mercedes told Eric forcefully.
Eric quirked his mouth into a doubtful expression. “In two weeks?” he questioned.
Taylor started to speak, but Mercedes jumped in first. “Yes! In two weeks! I’ve taught other riders to jump in two weeks. Taylor is not exactly a beginning rider.”
“Don’t get mad,” Eric said, holding his palms up to them. “I just didn’t think you would enter a contest like that because you ride Western. So I didn’t see any harm in helping Plum.”
What he was saying was perfectly reasonable, and Taylor knew it. Still, she couldn’t stop staring at him with an injured expression. He didn’t think she could win the event, and he would be working with Plum to make sure she didn’t.
It didn’t endear him to her. In fact, maybe Travis had been right about Eric all along.
She’d show him who couldn’t win the event! “All right. Well, I have to get back to my lesson,” Taylor said, now more determined to win the event than ever before.
By the time Taylor got home that evening, her every muscle ached. She and Mercedes had worked for another three hours after her fall — and clearly it showed, because as soon as she walked into the kitchen where her mother and Claire were having some tea, Jennifer stood. “Taylor, what happened to you?” she cried in alarm.
Turning to look at her reflection in the window, Taylor burst into laughter. She was filthy from head to toe, the dirt on her face streaked in patterns of sweat. Her ponytail had somehow been swept to the side and jutted out at a right angle from her head. Her jeans were split open on the side seam, a result of her fall. Her left cheek was scraped, also from the fall.
