by Suzanne Weyn
Taylor returned to the trailer and clipped Prince Albert to the side, placing some hay for him to munch on as she groomed him. On the other side of the trailer, Plum was grooming Shafir.
Every once in a while there would be the sound of a smack and a shrill whinny from the opposite side. Taylor flinched each time, wanting to stop Plum, but knowing that the girl wouldn’t change her behavior. Shafir was probably playing with a curry comb or hoof pick in Plum’s back pocket, which resulted in a smack from Plum.
Mercedes suddenly appeared, walking toward the trailer. She somehow didn’t seem very excited to be there.
Taylor waved happily, but Mercedes only gave a jerk of her chin in greeting. What was wrong?
As Mercedes approached, Taylor put down the brush she was holding. “Hey, are you all right?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah. Fine,” Mercedes said flatly.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Drop it.” Mercedes said, finally looking Taylor in the eyes. “So, are you excited about your first show? Don’t let me down. We’ve trained too hard for you to mess this up.”
“Excited and nervous. I think I’ll be okay, though.”
“You’re lucky you have a good horse to ride,” Mercedes said, gazing toward Prince Albert but seeming lost in her own thoughts.
“Maybe you should have competed,” Taylor said, thinking that might be what was bothering Mercedes. “I know you don’t have your own horse, but …” Taylor trailed off as she saw Mercedes’ eyes brim with tears.
Uh-oh. Why was Mercedes suddenly crying? It wasn’t like her. Something really bad must have happened.
Mercedes turned away from Taylor, walking a few feet away. Taylor hurried after her, putting a hand on her shoulder, but Mercedes flinched away from the touch.
“You know, you can tell me if something is bothering you. I won’t tell anyone,” Taylor said softly.
Mercedes whipped around to face Taylor, tears streaking her face. “You want to know what’s bothering me? Really? Come on.” Turning, Mercedes walked quickly toward the barn.
Not sure what to do, Taylor looked back and forth between Mercedes and Prince Albert. “Can you keep an eye on Prince Albert for me?” she shouted to Plum. “I have something I have to go do!”
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Plum shouted back.
“Thanks!” Taylor called back, now jogging behind Mercedes, who was already halfway to the barn. “What do you have to show me?” she asked as she caught up.
Mercedes stopped walking and turned on her heel. Taylor was hurrying so closely behind, she almost collided with her. “My horse,” Mercedes said.
“You have a horse?” Taylor replied, confused.
“Had.”
“Had?”
“Had.”
Just follow me,” Mercedes said, moving into the front of the Ross River barn. She turned to the right and walked purposefully down an aisle. The barn was astoundingly clean, with high ceilings and not a trace of dirt. Although Taylor had seen it when she came with Daphne, she still marveled at how tidy this barn was, each large wooden stall bearing its own bronzed name plaque.
Mercedes stopped at the last stall on the left and pointed to a gleaming white horse that lifted its head upon her arrival.
“This horse is yours?” Taylor murmured, looking at the gelding’s strong body and shining coat.
“Was!” Mercedes shouted impatiently, then sighed and said softly, “I told you. I don’t own him anymore.”
Taylor nodded and looked back and forth between the two of them.
“He’s really gorgeous. What’s his name?” Taylor asked.
“His registered name is Montana Wind Dancer. His barn name was Monty when I owned him.”
“He’s Monty?!” Taylor cried.
“Yep. I told you he was some guy I used to like,” Mercedes confirmed. “I really, really liked him,” she added, her voice cracking. She opened the latch to the door and walked in, petting Monty softly.
“When did you own him?” Taylor asked.
“Back when I lived in Connecticut,” Mercedes replied, looking wistfully at Monty. “My dad bought him for me for my thirteenth birthday from a Missouri Fox Trotting breeder. Like I told you, we had our own stable, so I could ride him all the time. He’s a great horse. Does jumps, trails, dressage, everything.”
“So why did you get rid of him?” Taylor questioned, approaching the stall and leaning on the wooden frame.
“I had to. We couldn’t afford him anymore,” Mercedes said quietly, looking down. “My dad was working on Wall Street in the stock market and ended up getting involved with some bad deals. When the economy started turning for the worse and the stock market started going down” — she sighed again — “the first thing to go was Monty.”
Mercedes wrapped her arms around the white horse, burying her face into his shoulder. “And then the cars. And then the house.” Her shoulders moved up and down as she quietly cried into Monty’s coat. Taylor stepped forward, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“So we had to sell him to some person who owned another barn in Connecticut. He bought Monty and a bunch of the other horses from us. He gave Monty to his niece, who lives around here. I e-mailed him a while ago to see how Monty was and found out they’d sold Monty and a few others to Ross River Ranch. I was happy to hear Monty was nearby, but you know how this place is; you can’t just come and visit without permission. The only reason I can be here today is because they’re having this open show. It’s the real reason I didn’t want to compete. If I couldn’t compete on Monty, I didn’t want to do it at all.”
Taylor watched as Mercedes stroked the horse’s soft neck. Monty seemed to respond to Mercedes as if he knew her and missed her. He nickered softly and nudged her chest gently. Mercedes chuckled and grinned through her tears. Reaching into her back pocket, she produced a sugar cube. Monty stretched his neck forward and licked up the small, sweet block. Taylor had never seen this soft side of Mercedes.
Suddenly, an idea hit Taylor. “Mercedes! I’ve got it! I know how we can get you here to see Monty more!”
“What? How?” Mercedes asked, eyes alert.
“The winner of each class gets five free lessons here!” Taylor said excitedly. “If I can get first place, you could come with me and visit!”
“You’re right! I think you could win it, too! You’ve gotten really good, even though we haven’t had much time to teach you,” Mercedes said with enthusiasm.
Taylor looked down at the time on her watch and jumped. “I’ve got to go! I still have to tack up Prince Albert and put on the show clothes Daphne gave me. And my class starts in twenty minutes!” she shouted, turning and walking quickly back toward the trailer.
“Right — go get ’em! I’ll be standing at the side of the ring to help coach you,” Mercedes replied, her tears now gone.
Taylor hurried away. She rushed back to the trailer, to find Plum perched on the bed of the truck, munching on a sandwich.
“You’re going to be late,” Plum said, looking down at Taylor.
“No, I’m not,” Taylor said, grabbing the saddle pad, saddle, and girth from the trailer. She tacked up Prince Albert quicker than she ever had before. Grabbing a hoof pick from the grooming cart, she ran her hand down his back right leg.
“C’mon, boy. Pick up your leg. One last clean.” Then Taylor stopped and gasped, “Prince Albert! No! Where did your shoe go?”
Plum glanced down from her perch, brows raised and a smirk on her face. “Really? You didn’t check his hoofs before putting him on the trailer? What a rookie move.”
“What am I going to do? He can’t jump if he’s missing a back shoe! I knew it was a little loose, but I thought it’d stay on! And my class is in” — she glanced at her watch again — “fifteen minutes!”
“Guess you’re out of luck,” Plum said, hopping down from the truck. She grabbed her helmet and twisted her blonde hair under the cap. “I’ll just have to win this class w
ithout any competition.”
Taylor stopped, midpanic. “Wait, you’re in this class? Isn’t this class for beginners? Eric told me you weren’t riding in it.”
“I just told him that so he’d stop bugging me about it,” Plum said, sliding out of the truck. “But I thought it’d be amusing to ride in the same class as you. Just because.”
So Taylor had been right — Plum knew she was a more advanced rider and decided to join the beginners just to make sure Taylor didn’t win.
Plum put Shafir’s bridle on, yanking her forward.
Taylor’s lower lip began to quiver. What was she going to do? It was hopeless now! She sighed and slumped down next to Prince Albert, feeling defeated. Why even bother to compete?
Just then, Mercedes came running up. “Your class is going on, like, now!” she shouted, motioning for Taylor to hurry.
“I can’t go. Prince Albert threw his back shoe. He can’t do a jump course like this,” Taylor moaned, standing up and walking toward Mercedes.
“Seriously? Oh, no!” Mercedes cried.
The girls stared at each other for a moment.
“Do they have farriers at events like these?” Taylor asked. “Maybe we could get a new shoe put on.”
“There’s no time for that now,” Mercedes reminded her. Then Mercedes’ eyes narrowed, and her face took on a determined expression. “No. You’re not going to lose this chance. We’re going to use Monty.”
Taylor stared at her, dumbfounded. “We’re not allowed to just ride him, are we?”
“I don’t care. It’s a Ross River event — let them supply you with one of their horses,” Mercedes insisted. “And anyone riding Monty is a surefire first place!”
Taylor looked nervously to the barn where Monty was. “I mean, I guess. If you think it’s a good idea,” she said, still not sure this was the right thing to do.
Mercedes nodded emphatically. “Go untack Prince Albert, and meet me at Monty’s stall. I’ll get him groomed and ready. Hurry up!”
Just as quickly as Taylor had tacked Prince Albert, she untacked him with lightning speed. Prince Albert stood there, ears perked, noticing the commotion. Taylor grabbed the saddle and started running toward the barn, then stopped and turned around, looking at Prince Albert.
“Sorry, boy. It’s for your own safety that you don’t go over jumps missing a shoe,” she apologized. Then she hurried off to the barn to tack up Monty and change into her show clothing.
Within minutes, Monty was ready to go. He was a magnificent sight, with his gleaming white coat and thick muscles. Mercedes and Taylor hurried to the entrance gate just in time to see Plum beginning her course.
Shafir snorted and pulled at the reins. Plum held a riding crop in her right hand and began her courtesy circle, picking up a canter. Shafir raced forward, eager to run, but Plum yanked back hard on the reins. Tossing her head in the air, Shafir playfully pranced toward the first jump.
Plum jerked the reins back again. Raising her right hand, she brought the riding crop down on Shafir’s side.
From outside the ring where they waited with Monty, Taylor and Mercedes held their breath as they watched Plum. Taylor gave Mercedes a sidelong glance, not needing words to convey what they were both thinking: Plum’s ride was getting dangerous.
Shafir raced forward toward the jump once again, leaping over it. Plum clung on, clearly not ready for such an unexpected leap. She landed awkwardly but stayed on. The audience could hear her growling and muttering at her horse as she careened around the ring toward the second jump. At the last moment, Shafir ducked out and headed for the jump next to the one Plum was aiming for.
Pulling hard to the right, Plum attempted to drag Shafir back on course, but it was too late. Shafir had plans of her own. Jumping too low this time caused two of the poles to come tumbling down underneath them as the Arabian stumbled forward.
Taylor and Mercedes exchanged another look, this time one of excitement. Knocking down poles meant point deductions, and better yet, going off course meant the rider was disqualified! They turned their heads back to the ring just in time to see Shafir stop right in front of the third jump, sending Plum sailing forward.
The crowd gasped as Plum hurtled into the jump, knocking all the poles down with a crash!
Shafir pranced backward and began trotting around the arena, looking happy to be free of her rider. Plum stood up, shaken but not too hurt. Covered in dirt, she ripped off her helmet and threw it on the ground. She chucked her riding crop toward the outside of the ring. Finally, she stormed out, passing Mercedes and Taylor without glancing up.
“You’ve got this,” Mercedes said to Taylor. “Monty is a very simple ride, just be sure to give him gentle and clear commands. He loves to jump. I guess I’ll go grab Shafir now,” she added, opening the gate and hurrying toward the excited horse.
Taylor nodded, clipping her helmet underneath her chin. Placing her left foot in Monty’s stirrup, she hoisted herself up and onto the saddle. She shifted about in the tack. Everything seemed a lot higher up here; Monty was at least a hand taller than Prince Albert.
Taylor took a deep breath and reached forward, stroking Monty’s neck. “Hope you’re as good as Mercedes says you are,” she whispered to the gelding.
Straightening up, she pushed her heels down and shoulders back, ready to enter the arena. Mercedes finally captured Shafir. She gave Taylor a reassuring wink as she brought the Arabian out through the gate.
“Now entering the arena is number 942, Taylor Henry, riding Prince Albert,” the announcer said over the loudspeakers. Taylor frowned. Would they find out that this wasn’t the horse she registered with? Would they care?
Now wasn’t the time to think about it. She took a deep breath and held her chin high, like Mercedes had instructed her.
As she began her opening circle, picking up the canter, she began to see what Mercedes was talking about. Monty had an incredibly smooth gate, almost more so than Prince Albert. Her confidence grew as she raised herself into two-point, sending Monty sailing over the first jump, clearing it with ease. She looked to her second jump, and once more, Monty eagerly leaped over. All Taylor had to do was direct him where to go, and Monty took each jump like a champion show horse, picking his knees up high, ears perked forward, and landing with grace. Before Taylor knew it, she had completed the course and nodded to the judge, signaling that she was finished.
She looked about frantically for Mercedes as she left the arena, thumping Monty on the neck, giving him congratulatory pats. She hoped Mercedes had seen them! Mrs. LeFleur stood off to the side of the ring, looking baffled and holding Shafir.
Suddenly, Mercedes came hurtling toward Taylor and Monty.
“You did it! That was a completely clean course! There’s no way anyone could beat you!”
Taylor had barely dismounted before Mercedes grabbed her in a joyful embrace.
“Monty did it! I just sat there and told him where to go!” Taylor replied with a laugh as Mercedes moved to wrap her arms around Monty, snuggling into his soft mane.
“They’re going to be announcing the placing soon. You were the last to ride,” Mercedes said, handing the reins back to Taylor. “Go back in there!”
All the competitors entered the arena again, some still on top of their horses, some standing next to them. Taylor looked at the other girls. They were dressed so nicely, and all of their horses were beautiful. She wished she had seen them ride so she could gauge how she had done in comparison. All she could do now was hope.
The announcer began listing off places, starting with sixth. There were nine riders in total, which meant three people wouldn’t even get a ribbon. As the number of riders dwindled, Taylor began to get nervous. Her number hadn’t been called yet, which could either mean she didn’t get a ribbon or it could mean …
“… And in first place, winning the blue ribbon and five free riding lessons here at the beautiful Ross River Ranch, is …” The announcer paused. Taylor held her breath and
looked at the ground, eyes squeezed shut.
“Number 942, Taylor Henry, riding Prince Albert!”
Taylor leaped in the air, startling Monty just slightly.
“Yes!” she shouted.
Mercedes raced into the ring and gave Taylor a bear hug, nearly squeezing all the air out of her. “You did it, you did it! I told you that you could do it!” she cried, dancing around.
A girl with a blue ribbon strode forward, placing it on Monty’s cheek piece. It looked perfect against his fine white coat.
Everyone began exiting the ring, but Taylor couldn’t move — or stop grinning.
Her first show was a great success! She had done it!
“I’d better get Monty back before anyone realizes he’s gone,” Mercedes said. “Would you mind if I ride him back, just for — you know — old times?”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll meet you at the trailer, and we’ll see Daphne’s event.” Taylor smiled as Mercedes hopped into Monty’s saddle and handed Taylor the blue ribbon.
When they were a distance away, Taylor broke into a run, racing down a grassy slope toward the trailer to find Prince Albert who was still hitched there.
“We did it, boy! I won, but I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t helped me.”
Taylor wrapped her arms around Prince Albert’s neck, pressing her forehead into his skin. She loved him so much! Thinking of Mercedes and Monty, she shut her eyes and made a silent promise. No matter what the future might hold, she’d never let anyone or anything take Prince Albert away from her.
From Wildwood Stables #5: Stealing the Prize
Diagonals!” shouted a male voice from the gate.
Taylor snapped out of her daydream and looked to where the voice had come from. A short, skinny man, dressed neatly in a dark blue baseball cap that read USEF, stood at the entrance to the ring. White tufts of hair were visible from under his cap and his thick, gray eyebrows were raised, making his forehead crinkle, as he watched Taylor ride. He wore a simple black T-shirt and the customary tan breeches and polished black tall boots of an English style rider.
