LAST CHANCE
BY
CLAIRE SVENDSEN
Copyright © 2014 Claire Svendsen
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, places or events is purely coincidental.
For Georgette & Evan
CHAPTER ONE
People always say that absence makes the heart grow fonder but I think it’s just a lie they tell themselves to feel better. The longer my best friend Mickey stayed away from the barn, the worse I felt. There was nothing fonder about it. And her horse Hampton? Well he didn’t even seem like he cared. Other riders had come to try him out but none of them managed to make him go as well as Jess had. It was like they just clicked on some level and he really liked her. Maybe almost as much as he liked Mickey which was bad. Really bad. If Mickey didn’t change her mind soon, she wouldn’t have a horse to come back to.
“Have you heard from Mr. Eastford?” I stuck my head in the office.
Esther was sitting at her desk but she wasn’t working. She was staring off into space which was never a good sign.
“What?” she looked at me like she hadn’t even heard what I said.
“Have you heard from Mr. Eastford?” I repeated.
“No,” she shook her head. “But I expect to any day.”
“Don’t forget, Jess wanted that jumper up in New York.” I leant against the door frame wearily.
“It doesn’t matter,” Esther said. “He has the money to buy them both. You know that.”
“It’s not fair,” I sighed.
I’d tried every trick in the book to get Mickey to come out to the barn, even stooping so low as to tell her that Hampton was sick, which I felt really bad about because it seemed like tempting the fates. But it hadn’t worked. She just said that whatever the emergency was, Esther could handle it. Then she hung up the phone. What kind of horse person doesn’t dash out to the barn at a hundred miles an hour if they get a phone call that their horse is sick?
Esther said that I should just give up. That the more I tried to push Mickey into it, the harder she resisted. She was probably right but I wasn’t the kind of person who just gave up on someone. I was stubborn like that.
“Want to saddle up for a ride?” Esther asked.
“I suppose,” I said but my heart wasn’t really in it.
Bluebird was standing in his field under the shade of a tree. It was spring already and the temperature was rising. Soon it would be too hot to ride much during the day. People in the north were still cleaning up from the last snow storm and we were getting out our bathing suits. It hardly seemed fair but then they didn’t have to deal with mosquitos the size of garbage trucks and hurricanes.
“Want to go for a ride?” I called out.
Bluebird looked over at me and then turned his butt in my direction. I took that as a no. I knew it wasn’t up to him and that I should make him work anyway but I didn’t feel like it. I still hadn’t heard anything from Miguel Rodriguez. He told us that he would make the selections for the team in one month and it had been a month already. At first I thought I hadn’t heard because I hadn’t been chosen and I moped around the house for days before Mom suggested that I ask Becka if she’d heard anything. She hadn’t and she was a really good rider so there was no way that we both hadn’t been chosen. She said that she’d heard Miguel was having a hard time choosing. If that was true it meant that he had his pick from a bunch of really great riders. I didn’t know if I even stood a chance.
I sat on the gate watching the sun turn my bare arms pink, then wandered back inside. Esther was tacking up Princess for a lead line lesson, the little girl with the oversized helmet on her head standing back and looking scared. Her mother gave her a gentle shove towards the pretty black pony. I had to hand it to Princess. She may have had a mean streak and a mind of her own but she knew how to reel the little kids in. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a fairy tale forest with her flowing mane and the forelock that reached down to the end of her nose.
“Hold your hand out like this,” I showed the girl my outstretched palm. “Make sure it’s flat now, don’t curl your fingers or she might think they are carrots.”
The girl gave a nervous giggle. I fished a lint laden sugar cube out of my pocket and placed it on her palm. Princess sniffed it just to make sure it wasn’t poisoned and then gently lipped it up. The girl grinned. The mother grinned. And Esther took them out to the ring for a lesson that would probably be the first of many. It wasn’t hard to make a little kid a repeat customer if the parents could afford it because lessons often turned into kids wanting ponies of their own.
I vaguely remembered the day Dad brought home fat little Pudding for me. As soon as he unloaded the scruffy pony I ran right over and latched onto his leg. No one had to teach me not to be scared. Dad just laughed, pried me off the pony’s leg and tossed me up on his back. I often wondered what happened to that sweet pony. Where did he go? All I knew was that after Summer’s death, her pony and mine had disappeared. I liked to think they had found happy homes somewhere. I didn’t like to think about all the bad things that could have happened to them.
“What about you?” I asked Hampton. “Want to go for a ride?”
He came to the bars and sniffed my fingers, licking up the sugar crumbs. I purposely didn’t look at Harlow’s empty stall. Even though he’d gone to live a life of luxury with Liesl as a massage demo horse, I still missed him horribly. The way he would nicker for his grain and his pretty gray face. Esther would soon fill the stall with another boarder and that would be better. At least then I wouldn’t see the echo of him standing there.
Ethan came into the barn while I was still trying to decide whether to ride or not. Since the weather had warmed up, he’d been spending more time at the beach and his hair was already sun-bleached, his skin a golden brown.
“Someone is riding Faith’s pony,” he pointed out to the ring.
“You know your sister doesn’t care one hoot about Princess,” I laughed. “That pony is a means to an end. She’s waiting until I outgrow Bluebird and then she’s going to be all over him like an ant to a cookie.”
“True,” he grinned. “Your days are numbered.” He leant against Hampton’s stall. “Still no Mickey?” he asked.
I shook my head. When other people asked, I felt like I was the one who was a failure because I hadn’t been able to convince her to come back. There were a few awkward moments of silence where I found myself looking at Ethan’s lips out of the corner of my eye and wondering what it would be like to kiss a boy and then he broke the spell.
“So are you going to ride then or what?”
“I thought I’d take Hampton out,” I said. “Bluebird already told me he’d rather just stay under his tree.”
“Cool,” Ethan grinned. “Come on, I’ll tack up Wendell and we can go out in the jump field. “
“All right,” I said.
Since the weather had turned warmer, we’d spent more time than usual out in the field where it was easier to catch the breeze.
In the tack room, I rummaged through Mickey’s trunk for her martingale. Hampton had been tossing his head and generally acting unruly lately what with all the different people coming to try him out and Esther had suggested that he go back in i
t. Only I didn’t know what Mickey had done with it. I knew she’d had it at the last show but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I tossed out wraps and bits and spare halters until I finally found it in a dirty pile at the bottom of the trunk. I struggled to free it from the tangled mess and when it finally came loose a piece of paper came with it, fluttering to the ground beside my feet.
I picked it up thinking it was nothing. An old show entry or prize list but as I read the words Mickey had written, I really wished I’d never looked for that martingale at all.
CHAPTER TWO
“What did it say?” Ethan asked.
We were out in the jump field but he’d seen me standing there with the paper clutched in my hand and tears in my eyes. He knew that something was wrong.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
“Of course it does.”
He brought Wendell up alongside Hampton and we walked around the fence line, neither one of us really feeling like doing any actual work.
“I think our friendship is over,” I said. “I think it was over before I went off to the clinic and she had her accident. That note just sealed the deal. It’s official, she hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you, besides you can’t make someone be friends with you,” Ethan shrugged.
I knew he was right. I couldn’t force Mickey to come to the barn and I couldn’t force her to like me either. In fact the more I thought about it, the more I realized that we had grown apart. As I’d started striving for more out of my riding, she started caring less about lessons and shows. Maybe it was inevitable but that didn’t make it any better and the note was awful. I clung to the one thought that maybe she had changed her mind and decided not to give it to me and that was why it was stuffed in the bottom of her trunk but she’d still written it and it didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Want to try a couple of fences?” Ethan asked.
“I guess,” I said.
“Come on, it will be fun. Follow my lead.”
So we cantered after Wendell’s chestnut rump, hopping over the fences that were set low after a group lesson of riders just learning to jump. Hampton had given up tossing his head once he realized I wasn’t going to take any of his nonsense and because he didn’t really have to extend much effort, he seemed like he was having a good time. It was actually fun to follow behind Ethan and Wendell, cantering over the grass that was turning green again.
“You know,” I said. “We should talk Esther into organizing a hunter pace or something,” I said. “How much fun would it be to do this only out in the real woods?”
“Now that would be fun,” Ethan grinned. “Better than going round and round in the ring all the time. Wendell and I are starting to feel like a carousel horse at the carnival. I’m thinking about throwing in the towel and trying eventing.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Sure,” he shrugged. “Why not? Wendell isn’t really excellent at anything but he’s pretty good at everything. It might be fun to go jump some fallen trees.”
“I guess,” I said. “But I prefer jumps that fall down when you hit them.”
“Chicken,” he squawked and flapped his arms like wings.
“Hey,” I said. “I was the one who jumped the big log in this very field, remember?”
“Yeah and look what happened after that,” he said.
The log was part of a fallen tree that the previous owners of the farm had used to school their eventers over. I only jumped it once on Harlow and Esther had been furious. The next day she had some guys come in and chop it up for firewood.
“Exactly,” I said. “How do you think Esther is going to help you train to be an eventer?”
“I don’t think she will,” he said. “I’d have to move barns.”
“What?” I stopped Hampton. “You can’t leave me too.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Nothing is fun here anymore. Mickey has gone, you are all about getting on this jumper team. I like Esther and she takes good care of Wendell but I’m not going to stay here if I feel like I’m just in the way.”
“You’re not in the way,” I cried. “Everything is just messed up right now but it will get better. I promise.”
“You can’t promise something that you have no control over,” he said.
And I knew he was right.
“Every barn goes through their ups and downs,” I said. “Everything will straighten out in the end.”
“And Mickey?” he asked.
“Mickey can go stuff herself,” I said.
I was done trying to be the one who always made peace. Okay so she’d had an accident, that wasn’t my fault. And so I’d been mad at her about cheating to get me a saddle. That’s what friends did. They got mad and were honest with each other and then they made up. I wasn’t going to have some fake friendship where I wouldn’t say what I was really thinking because I was more worried about the other person’s feelings than my own. Life was too short for that.
Back in the barn I gave Hampton half of Bluebird’s treats. He’d earned them and I still felt bad that he had essentially been abandoned.
“Maybe it would be better if someone bought you,” I sighed. “At least then you’d only have one person riding you instead of all these strangers.”
I ran the soft brush over his coat. It shone like polished mahogany in the light. I knew him almost as well as I knew my own pony. The tiny scar on his side where he scratched too hard against the fence and had to have three stitches. The white spot on his fetlock where he slid out the back of the trailer on a rainy show day. Each mark a memory of the life he’d lived with Mickey and the one he had before her. I knew that he would have one after her too but I would really hate to see him go.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as I slid the stall door shut. I thought it would be Mom, calling to tell me to hurry up and get my butt home for another horrible family dinner but it was Becka.
“Did you check your e-mail?” she asked breathlessly without even saying hello.
“No,” I said. “Why?”
“It’s Miguel,” she said. “He’s picking the finalists for the team.”
CHAPTER THREE
You know how it is when you really want to know something but you’re afraid to find out in case it turns out to be bad? That was how it was with the e-mail. I stood there with my heart pounding in my chest which was dumb, although I wasn’t so much afraid of the e-mail as not making the team. I tried to imagine what would happen if I hadn’t made it. There would be other shows to win and probably other teams to get on. Just because I didn’t make this one, didn’t mean that I’d blown all my chances. I opened the e-mail on my phone and tried to focus on the words as they danced about on the screen. Then I called Becka back.
“Hey,” I said. “I thought you said he’d picked the team.”
“No,” she replied. “I said he was picking the team.”
“I thought that was what the last clinic was for?”
“Not everyone got called back,” she said. “We are some of the lucky few.”
The e-mail said that the recipients were to report to Black Gate over spring break. They would be required to stay Monday through Sunday and participate in lessons and a show during which they would be judged as part of the final selection process for the jumping team. Only there was a catch. We weren’t allowed to bring our own horses.
“How exactly is he going to judge us without our horses?” I leant on Hampton’s stall, feeling confused. “I don’t want to spend a whole week away from Bluebird. Who is going to ride him while I’m gone?”
“Well I’m sure we’ll be riding something,” she said. “I bet we’ll be riding Miguel’s horses. Oh, that would be so cool if we got to ride some of his Grand Prix horses. I’d kill to ride Interstellar!”
“You don’t think he’s actually going to let us ride any of his priceless show jumpers do you?” I said. “Remember last time? We weren’t even allowed near them in the barn.”
“True,�
�� she sighed. “But he must have something for us to ride.”
“But what is the point? If we make the team then we’ll be competing on our own horses. I don’t want to ride anything else.”
I thought about how great Bluebird and I had been doing. We kind of bombed at the last show, placing third thanks to a giant wall made out of solid red bricks but we hadn’t been the only ones who struggled with that. Since then we had been working really hard and I was looking forward to showing Miguel how much we’d improved. Now it looked like I wouldn’t have the chance.
“I wonder who else is going,” I said.
“Well if your friend Jess makes it then at least we know it won’t be boring.”
“How could she possibly have made the cut?” I laughed. “She drugged herself and her horse the last time. Besides, I think her father is still set on switching her back to the hunters. I’m still scared that she is going to buy Hampton.”
“But if Mickey doesn’t want to ride anymore, does it really matter?” Becka said softly.
She knew that it was a sore subject with me and she didn’t really understand why I didn’t just let it go. But after the note, I was starting to.
“You know what?” I said. “I think you’re right and I think this clinic will be fun.”
“That’s the spirit,” Becka said.
Esther didn’t have quite the same enthusiasm.
“I thought you’d be around to help out,” she sighed. “The little kids are doing a mini camp and it’s all hands on deck.”
“Maybe you could get Mickey to help,” I said.
“Very funny,” she pushed the papers on her desk away from her and crossed her arms. “What makes you think I’d have any more luck with her than you’ve had?”
“You’re her trainer,” I said. “Isn’t it your job to get her back on the horse?”
“Yes but I can’t exactly do that unless she actually comes out to the barn.”
“Well she’s not even talking to me right now,” I said.
“You know it’s not your fault,” Esther said gently. “She wants to blame you and Hampton because she’s mad at herself and the world. She’ll get over it, just give her some time.”
Last Chance (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 6) Page 1
