Last Chance (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 6)

by Claire Svendsen

  “Let’s go do this,” I said, slamming my helmet onto my head.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  The warm up was a cross rail and a small vertical set up in the ring. I cantered Gulliver over them and he was so excited that he gave a little buck after the fences.

  “It’s okay boy,” I patted his neck. “Save it for the real jumps.”

  Dan was acting as steward and as he called me to the jump field, everyone else abandoned their own warm ups and came to watch. Miguel was sitting in the little wooden gazebo that overlooked both the field and the ring where his owners and sponsors usually sat to watch. He had a clipboard and a stopwatch.

  “Good luck,” Dan said.

  “Thanks but I don’t need it,” I said.

  “Suit yourself,” he smacked Gulliver on the rump and we careened into the ring.

  I halted in front of the gazebo and saluted Miguel, then circled Gulliver at a steady canter. This round was about going clean and clear. When Miguel blew his whistle, we headed towards the first jump.

  They were set at about three foot to accommodate the wide range of horses and ponies we were riding but it wasn’t the height of the jumps that would test us. It was the nature of the course. We breezed over an easy vertical, a roll top with fake flowers in front and then cantered on to the double. One stride and we were through. On the back of Gulliver the jumps felt like they were tiny. Merely cross rails that he was stepping over with his long legs. There was another vertical, then a double oxer but nothing fazed him. The line from the red vertical to the black and yellow oxer was tight. He chipped at the last minute but his jump was so powerful that he got over the small fence anyway. Over the triple combination, one stride, two strides, his big chestnut ears flicking back and forth. That got his attention. Now he was getting excited. Starting to rush. Only four jumps left. I had to relax. Forget about Miguel and all the others watching. Pretend that none of this mattered.

  I stroked his neck as he cantered on to the next jump, a white gate that wouldn’t take much to knock over. Instead of trying to ride him, I just let him go. He saw his spot and took it. I let my reins go loose. Just point and shoot. Over the triple bar. Bouncing past the gazebo and towards the crowd of people, starting to gallop. Only two jumps left. He launched feet over the fake wall that was made to look like a castle and then there was the last. A green vertical that matched the grass and made it hard for the horses to see. But Gulliver saw it. He flew over that jump like it was five feet high and then came sweetly back to hand like a pro.

  Cheers erupted from the rail. I’d gone clean. I stole a glance over at the gazebo but Miguel wasn’t looking. He was writing something down. Had I ridden well enough to impress him? I didn’t know.

  “That was amazing,” Becka slapped me on the back as I slid off Gulliver, my knees weak.

  “It’s harder than it looks,” I said.

  “I don’t care,” she said. “Tell me everything.”

  But trying to explain how the course rode with Gulliver wasn’t much use to Becka who was riding stocky Rufus with his big belly and short legs.

  “I don’t know how to help you,” I said.

  “Don’t worry,” she grinned. “If you can do it, so can I.”

  Apparently that was what a lot of people thought. My clear round had given everyone false confidence that the course was easy. Soon I heard rails falling as I walked Gulliver around. I tried not to look but I couldn’t help it. There weren’t very many clears.

  Patrick got too deep in the triple and couldn’t get out. He slid into the last fence and Hadley fell off. She was okay but Dan had to run out there and rebuild it.

  She came out of the ring looking crestfallen.

  “I blew it,” she said.

  “Bad luck,” I said. “That could have been any one of us.”

  Justin had a shaky clear on Bear. There were several close calls where the bay’s hooves clipped several rails but none of them fell.

  “The jump Gods were smiling on us today,” he said as he patted Bear on the neck.

  Jess had a refusal at the castle wall and instead of throwing a tantrum, she just shrugged and patted Oasis, coaxing her over it the second time. Then it was Becka’s turn.

  “Good luck,” I said.

  “I don’t need it. Remember?” she said.

  “Right,” I grinned.

  “Not good luck then.”

  “Smarty pants.” She stuck her tongue out at me and then trotted off.

  If I had to pick a horse or pony that had improved the most, I would have given the award to Becka and Rufus. She’d taken a small horse that looked like he should have been hooked up to a cart and turned him into a plucky jumper. He even had good form, clearing the fences with his knees square, not that Becka could take the credit for that. It turned out he was talented as well.

  They had a close call at the difficult line. She lost her stirrup and jumped the yellow and black oxer without it. I saw her fumbling for it and then couldn’t tell if she had it back or not. But she finished clean.

  Now I was the one to cheer. She was all smiles as she patted Rufus on the neck.

  “I jumped that last half without my stirrup,” she cried. “Did you see?”

  “I did,” I said. “Don’t tell Miguel, he’ll make us all come back and jump without stirrups.”

  “He probably already saw,” she said. “He notices everything.”

  Becka pointed to where Miguel sat making more notes and I wondered what it would really take to impress him enough to make the team.

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  The jump off course was seven jumps. We already knew what they were from Miguel’s course diagram. The red vertical and yellow and black oxer, the wall, the roll top and the triple combination. It didn’t sound like much but the way they were set up, you were really going to have to gallop to keep your time down.

  There were five of us. Me, Becka, Justin and two girls whose names I couldn’t remember. I felt a bit guilty that I hadn’t made friends with everyone but it was too late for that now. We sat on our horses as Miguel gave the order of go based on our speed in the first round. We were third. Justin was forth and Becka was fifth. The other girls had to go first and second having had the slowest rounds.

  Everyone who didn’t make it through had rushed to put their horses away while Dan and a couple of the other grooms set up the jump off course and now they all hung on the fence watching. Waiting for us to fail because there could only be one winner. One person who would get on the team no matter how badly they had ridden for the rest of the clinic. It was basically a free ride. A golden ticket. I had to win. I’d had the worst clinic experience out of everybody. I couldn’t let that count against me as I knew it would.

  This time Miguel informed us that we would not be allowed to walk the course.

  “But that’s not fair,” one of the girl’s whined. She had blonde hair and a pinched nose.

  “You may retire, if you wish,” Miguel said. “Your choice. That goes for all of you. But remember this, I’m not asking you to do anything that I don’t believe you can do. Okay?”

  Becka and I looked at each other and grinned. We had this in the bag. I was used to jumping out in Esther’s field were the jumps were moved daily and no one had time to stride them out. We rode on instinct and trusted our guts.

  The girl who complained was the first to go. She didn’t trust herself or her mount, a dun pony that was pretty feisty. She fought with him and that cost them time. When they got to the triple, she choked and they had a refusal.

  “One down, four to go,” Becka said.

  “Hey, don’t you mean three,” I laughed.

  “Right, three.”

  “No, two,” Justin said.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake,” Becka cried. “We can’t all win.”

  The second girl followed in the first ones footsteps, not quite sure where to hold her horse back and when to urge him on. She had two rails down.

  “And t
hen there were three,” I said, riding off into the field.

  One thing was for certain. I was definitely not going to play it safe.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  We had galloped over the warm up jumps. Gulliver was pumped up and ready to go. He was going to need speed to win but going clear was the main priority.

  “You can do this,” I told him. “I know you can.”

  His ears flicked back and forth and I knew he heard me. Miguel blew his whistle and we took off for the first jump, the red vertical. I’d seen the ponies do five galloping strides to the black and yellow oxer. We did it in three. Roll back to the wall. Bending line to the roll top. Gulliver was going flat out now. We needed collection to clear all the parts of the combination. But trying to slow him down would probably end in a tug of war. He liked to rush. He was happy when he was rushing. I tried to relax and go with him, trusting that he knew more than I did.

  I held my breath as we jumped into the triple. He rapped the middle fence, got in too deep at the third and struggled over it. I knew it hadn’t been pretty but we were clear.

  “Good boy,” I patted his neck as he came back to me now that his job was done.

  We watched Justin attack the course from the fence. He flew over the jumps like they were nothing, going flat out. He finished clean. I couldn’t tell if he was faster than I had been.

  Now it was just down to Becka. She cantered Rufus into the ring with a grin on her face. She was one of the most confident people I had ever met. If anyone had a chance to beat us, it was her.

  Rufus thundered over the jumps with speed I didn’t even know he had. Becka clung to his back as he popped over the fences. He was cute and he was fast. His dark ears pricked and eyes wide like he was suddenly waking up for the first time. Her turns were tight. She saw her distances and Rufus finished clean.

  “Wow,” I said as she came out of the ring hugging his neck.

  One of the golf ball braids had popped out and curly mane stuck straight up but I’d never seen a horse look so proud of himself.

  “Isn’t he amazing?” she said. “I almost wish I could buy him.”

  “Maybe Miguel will keep him,” I said.

  “That would be cool,” she grinned.

  But while some of the horses like Rufus might get to stay now that they had proven their worth, all Fury had proved was that she didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere. What was Miguel going to do with her? I was going to have to find out.

  “Did you win?” asked Justin, walking over on Bear.

  “I don’t know,” Becka said. “But I guess we are going to find out. Here comes Miguel.”

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  We all gathered around Miguel, those of us still holding our horses and those without. He stood on a mounting block with his clipboard and a smile on his face.

  “You all rode very well,” he said. “Well except for those of you who fell off.”

  A couple of people looked at the ground, their faces turning bright red.

  “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said. “Everyone falls off sometimes. Even I fall off sometimes. You all rode well.”

  He looked at his clipboard again.

  “Now we all know that there can only be one winner.”

  Becka and I glanced at each other and crossed our fingers.

  “And the winner of today’s class is Becka Williamson on Rufus.”

  She looked at me, her mouth open and then she jumped up and down and started to freak out. Rufus, who was tired now after his rather exciting day, just stood there ignoring her. I hugged her tight.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said. “I can’t believe I won.”

  “I can,” I said. “You’re good and you know it.”

  “Congratulations,” Miguel said. “You have won the first spot on my junior jumper team. As for the rest of you? Well you’ll just have to wait until I make my final decision.”

  “Don’t worry,” Becka said. “You’ll totally make the team too.”

  “I hope so,” I said but I had my doubts. After all, I’d been nothing but trouble.

  Everyone was leaving, walking back to the barn to put their horses away and pack their bags. The clinic was over and now we would all go home. But I knew I couldn’t just leave. I had to find out what was going to happen to Fury.

  “Are you coming?” Becka said as I stood there with Gulliver.

  “Yes, in a minute,” I said.

  “All right,” she shrugged.

  I went over to the gazebo where Miguel was gathering up his things.

  “Come to talk your way onto the team Dickenson?” he said when he saw me.

  “No,” I said.

  “Good,” he replied. “What is it then?”

  “I was wondering,” I said, my throat dry and scratchy.

  “Yes,” he said. “Spit it out.”

  “I was wondering what was going to happen to Fury?”

  He leant on the gazebo rail looking down at me, the sun on his tanned face. He was a great rider and a good trainer but just like Esther, I knew he wasn’t running a home for wayward horses. Black Gate was a business and Fury was a pony who couldn’t pull her weight.

  “She doesn’t like to be ridden,” he said. “At all. By anyone except you. What am I supposed to do with her once you leave?”

  “I bet she would learn to like you,” I said. “If you just gave it some time. And Pop Tarts,” I said. “She really likes Pop Tarts.”

  “Does she now?” he raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’m sorry Dickenson but time is something I just don’t have,” he sighed. “I have three Grand Prix horses to work, a bunch of others coming up through the ranks like Gulliver here. I wish I had time to sit in a pony’s stall and bond but I just don’t.”

  My heart was pounding in my chest. It was just like losing Harlow all over again only there was no guarantee that someone nice would swoop in and save Fury. More than likely she’d end up on her way to some shady auction and I couldn’t let that happen.

  “She jumped over fire for me,” I whispered.

  “Fire?” he said. “Please tell me that is a metaphor.”

  I shook my head. I hadn’t meant to tell him. I’d intended to keep it a secret forever but the words all came tumbling out. The lightning storm, the tree, the way Fury jumped over the flames to save me.

  He stood there listening as it all spilled out and when I had finished he didn’t seem mad.

  “Please don’t let her go to someone horrible,” I said.

  “I wasn’t going to let her go to someone horrible Dickenson,” he said softly. “I was going to send her home with you.”

  THE END

  COMING SOON

  SHOW JUMPING DREAMS BOOK 7: HUNTER PACE

  Emily Dickenson didn’t win the coveted spot on the junior jumping team but she still has a chance to make it. Miguel Rodriguez will be finalizing his decision for the rest of the team soon and she did get a consolation prize of sorts, the damaged pony Fury to bring home to her barn and train.

  But back at Sand Hill Stables things are falling apart. Ethan wants to give up show jumping and take up eventing, Mickey wants to ride again but she doesn’t have a horse anymore and Emily thinks that putting on a Hunter Pace will solve everything.

  Only it doesn’t. Soon all the local barns are putting together teams to compete and instead of bringing them closer together, the competition only serves to drive everyone further apart. Loyalties will be tested and friendships broken. And can Emily hang on to both the ponies she has to ride or will she be forced to give one of them up for good?

  HUNTER PACE: CHAPTER ONE

  The trailer arrived two days after I got back. Miguel made all the arrangements with Esther. He would be paying board for Fury and I would ride her. When I begged him to keep her, it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Bluebird was my main priority and what with school, my riding time was limited. I wasn’t too keen on taking any of my attention away from him.

  “It’s
a big honor,” Esther said. “Being asked to ride one of Miguel’s horses.”

  “But I only want to ride Bluebird,” I sulked.

  “Don’t be so silly,” she said.

  But it didn’t feel silly. The stall next to the one Bluebird used when it rained was all clean and ready. Esther was just happy because it meant she had another paying customer. Even though we’d been winning at the local shows, business wasn’t exactly booming and with Hampton and Harlow both gone, the barn was looking decidedly empty.

  “Want to ride my horse too?” Ethan said, coming out of the tack room with a bridle in his hand. “He doesn’t like to work. Maybe you could convince him with some Toaster Strudels?”

  “Very funny,” I said. “Besides, it wasn’t Toaster Strudels, it was Wild Berry Pop Tarts.”

  “Oh, that’s okay then.”

  I picked up a wet sponge from the tack cleaning bucket and threw it at him. It hit him square in the face and bounced off his forehead.

  “That’s it,” he cried, dropping the bridle.

  We both took off running and he soon caught me and tackled me to the ground. But then it got all awkward so we just sort of got up and walked away.

  “They’re here,” Faith cried from the barn.

  Ethan’s little sister had been watching out for the trailer. She was obsessed with Bluebird and seemed to think that now I’d have two ponies to ride, maybe she’d get a chance to saddle him up. I already told her that was never going to happen but she wasn’t convinced.

  The Black Gate trailer swayed down the drive and pulled to a stop. Dan jumped out. He was stocky and kind and had looked out for me at the clinic. I waved and he waved back as he went around to unload Fury.

  “Is she okay?” I asked as he swung down the ramp.