Barn Sour (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 26)

by Claire Svendsen

  A spare? I wanted to scream at her. I’d spent more on her present than I had on all the others. Leather halters weren’t cheap, even second hand. And I’d made sure that it was a really good brand so that she wouldn’t be embarrassed to use it at Fox Run but I guess she was anyway. After all, it wasn’t brand new.

  “If you don’t like it, I can take it back,” I had said, thinking how great the halter would look on Arion, whose current one had mystery teeth marks on it. All I would have to do was pry off the now scratched nameplate.

  “Of course I like it,” she said. “Now let’s make you over.”

  “Maybe later,” I’d told her. “I have chores to do.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now,” I said.

  We sat around awkwardly until Mickey’s mom came back to pick her up, which didn’t take very long anyway.

  “I have to go too,” she said. “My mom needs me to help her set up for this party thing she is throwing. And we have to pick up my dress from the dry cleaners.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Not that long ago Mickey would have invited me over when her mom was throwing a party and we would have sat on the stairs and laughed at all the women who were dolled up with their makeup and fancy jewelry and their over the top dresses. But now it seemed like Mickey was turning into one of them.

  In my bedroom, I threw the makeup kit in the trash can that sat next to my desk and threw myself onto my bed. Who was Mickey now? What had happened to her? She had told me that if I wanted people to start taking me seriously then I should start wearing makeup and the sooner the better but I didn’t understand why. Boys didn’t have to wear makeup to be taken seriously.

  I pulled a mirror out of a drawer and looked at my face. It was pale and a little splotchy from the cold weather but I didn’t have any zits. I wasn’t gross looking. Why wasn’t my face okay just as it was? I mean it wasn’t that I thought I was extra pretty or something, one of those girls who looked beautiful all natural and fresh. The truth was that I was pretty plain. But none of that mattered when I was riding. Who would see makeup under the shade of my helmet anyway? It was stupid. And besides, Jordan seemed to like me fine just the way I was and who else was there to impress?

  I spent the rest of the afternoon in my bedroom, moping and occasionally doing some school work. But I also felt relieved that virtual school didn’t have cliques and bullies. Dress codes that you were supposed to break by hitching your skirt higher than was allowed and makeup that took up more room in your bag than your homework. It was hastily applied between classes so that by the end of the day there were layers upon layers that in the light of day just made the girls look like clowns or the women who hung around on the shady side of town.

  In fact Dad and Missy had made a good team when it came to my education. Mom kept hinting that if Cat was going to start real school then why couldn’t I? I told her that virtual school was real school and I was now so far ahead in my education that I would probably graduate early anyway. She didn’t know what to say after that, which was why I did my school work, even though I didn’t really want to.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The next day Oscar’s owner arrived in a Mercedes. Cora Atwell was a rather plain looking woman to be driving such a fancy car and she wasn’t wearing any makeup either. I wished that Mickey had still been around so that I could have pointed it out to her. But Cora did have expensive everything else and she may not have been wearing any makeup but a cloud of slightly vile perfume wafted into the barn as she did.

  “Where is my darling?” she called out.

  I had dashed into Socks’ stall and was applying ointment to his sheath so that she didn’t think I’d been spying on her getting out of her car, which I totally had. The swelling was about half the size that it had been but it was taking a while to go back to its normal size. After all, the fluid didn’t have anywhere else to go. At least he’d stopped throwing himself on the ground and going nuts trying to scratch the thing.

  “Hello?” I said, sticking my head out.

  “You must be Emily,” Cora said, rushing over to shake my hand.

  “I have ointment on mine,” I said, showing her the sticky mess.

  “Yes, well, never mind,” she said, quickly withdrawing her hand. “Where is my poor baby boy? Has he missed me? He must have missed me. Has he been depressed? He must have been depressed.”

  I wasn’t sure that Oscar had missed anything, especially not Cora, who was probably the one who made him so neurotic in the first place. And the only thing he was depressed about was that we wouldn’t let him go in the same paddock as his new best friend, Canterbury. But at least turning them out side by side had stopped him from jumping out all the time.

  “Are you going to ride?” I asked her.

  “Well your father told me that I shouldn’t interfere with his training,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “But I just couldn’t stay away. You don’t think he’ll mind, do you?”

  “No, I guess not,” I said, even though I knew that Dad would be mad that Cora was already going against his wishes and the horse had only been here a few days. Besides I didn’t really think we had much to worry about, Cora would be lucky if she could get Oscar out of the stall anyway.

  “I’ll be in the ring. If you need me, just holler,” I told her, echoing the words my father had told me.

  “I’ll be fine dear,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  I was pretty sure the last thing she would be was fine but that was her business. I wasn’t getting paid to babysit the owners. In fact, I wasn’t getting paid at all.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I had Arion out in the ring later when Molly pulled up. I waved and she waved back. Then she parked next to the silver Mercedes and got out. I saw her look at it suspiciously before going into the barn. I didn’t get off my horse. I figured the two women could introduce themselves and figure it out. After all they were adults. Or at least that was what I thought.

  “What do you think?” I asked Arion as I let him walk on a loose rein.

  We’d just completed the course of jumps that Oscar had jumped the day before and my off the track Thoroughbred had done it just as well as the secret jumping horse in the barn, although I’ll admit that he did it with a lot less polish and a bit more of a scrappy attitude.

  Still, the jumpers were the jumpers and it didn’t matter how you got over the fences as long as you got over them clean. And I figured that since Bluebird was now my team horse, Arion could be my money jumper. The one I took to shows and entered in the big prize money classes.

  I knew that I needed to do something to make some extra cash because I couldn’t exactly ask my father to pay me right now. We may have been making a little bit of progress with our business but we weren’t exactly raking in the money.

  “One more round and then you are done,” I told Arion.

  His gray ears flicked back and forth at the sound of my voice. The tips were dark, his winter coat still fluffy in places because I’d only given him a hunter clip. After all, he was spending most of his time outside and his blanket was a hand me down that was faded and slightly lumpy in places. And I was sort of hoping that by the time I was done, Molly and Cora would have both left because I wasn’t really in a peopling mood.

  We were flying over the big triple bar when I thought I heard something and by the time we’d finished there was actual yelling coming from the barn. I walked Arion around for a few minutes, hoping that the fight would be over by the time I had to go back in there. Or maybe that they would have killed each other because cleaning up dead bodies would be more preferable than walking into the middle of some stupid argument over something dumb.

  I didn’t like discord at the barn and I especially didn’t like it at our barn. There was always drama of some kind or another at stables. It was unavoidable. But I thought that we would be able to avoid it here. I guess I was wrong.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  By the time we got round
to the barn, Dad was coming out of the house. He’d obviously heard the yelling too, even if he did look like he’d just woken up from a nap. He looked over and I motioned for him to smooth down his hair, which was sticking straight up. He needed a haircut but who had money for things like that? Maybe I should have offered to cut it for him. It couldn’t be that much more difficult than clipping horses. And he didn’t look very professional. Then again he wouldn’t look very professional if I gave him a hack job either. He quickly smoothed his messy hair down with his hands.

  “Ladies?” he said as he got to the barn. “What is all the ruckus about?”

  “I didn’t think that people like this would be allowed here,” Molly said, glaring at Cora.

  “People like what?” she replied. “People who actually care about their horses instead of tossing them outside?”

  She motioned to where Bourbon and Bailey, Molly’s two Irish Sport Horses, were out in the back field grazing contentedly.

  “Everyone is welcome here,” Dad said diplomatically. “But not if they start yelling at one another. Now, can we sit down and discuss this nicely?”

  “No,” Molly said. “We cannot.”

  Arion was fussing as I held him, waiting to get by. He didn’t like to stand still and do nothing. But I was kind of mesmerized by two grown women arguing with one another over who was the better horse person. They were acting just like teenagers. It was ridiculous. But I couldn’t really talk since Jess and I got into a fight at the last show. And I knew the next time I saw her would be just as unpleasant. It was a good job that the next team show wasn’t until February.

  “My horses are perfectly content,” Molly said. “I hear yours won’t even come out of his stall.”

  “Well maybe he just doesn’t like it here,” Cora snapped.

  “Oscar likes it here just fine,” Dad said, his voice soothing and calm. “Now let me tell you all about how his retraining has been going.”

  I snuck past before Dad could rope me into telling Cora what a fantastic jumper Oscar was and how we should start showing him. I knew it didn’t matter. Whatever we did to help the horse, he would still turn back into the mess he was when Cora was taking care of him. It was too bad really because with a more confident person at the reins, Oscar might have really blossomed. As it was he had adopted the neurosis of his owner, who right now looked like she was about to cry.

  “Wouldn’t you like to stay and tell Cora all about how Oscar has been doing?” Dad said, looking at me with desperation on his face.

  “Can’t,” I said. “I have to put a cooler on Arion before he catches a chill.”

  And I quickly moved out of the way before Dad could corner me. I wasn’t there to babysit two grown women. It was bad enough having to babysit the kids and even Faith was better than that, most of the time anyway.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Well that was a royal mess,” Dad said later.

  I was sitting in the kitchen with a mug of hot cocoa. I’d found some half shriveled mini marshmallows in the back of the pantry and after inspecting them for mold, and not finding any, had put quite a few on the top of my steaming drink. Now I was watching then dissolve into a swirling mess, sort of like our boarders.

  “You could have stuck around,” Dad said. “I don’t know how to deal with women like that.”

  “Like I do?” I said. “You seemed to manage okay at Fox Run.”

  “That was only because I would pass them off to Missy when they got all worked up like that.” He sighed.

  “Well I’m not Missy,” I said.

  “Clearly,” Dad replied.

  “It’s not my fault they don’t get along,” I said. “What am I supposed to do about it? Force them to become friends. Hug and make up?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You’re right but I don’t know what to do about it either.”

  “Hope they come out to the barn at different times?” I said.

  “Yes well there is always that,” Dad said. “That looks good, what is it?” He pointed to my drink.

  “Hot cocoa,” I said. “And mini marshmallows.”

  “Great, I’ll take an extra-large,” he said.

  When Cat came home from school we were both sitting at the counter on our second mugs of cocoa like two people drowning their sorrows at a bar only our poison was sugar instead of liquor.

  “I hate it here,” Cat said, throwing her book bag onto the floor.

  It almost hit Meatball, who skittered away all teeth, claws and bushy tail.

  “Today sucked,” she added.

  “Two of our boarders tried to kill each other,” I said, trying to sound helpful.

  “Really?” Cat replied, sounding interested. “Did they?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Not so interesting then is it.” She sighed.

  “Annoying though,” I told her.

  “You think that is annoying? Apparently I’m about six months behind in my work, all my teachers hate me and I’m not cool enough for the cool kids and I’m too cool for the rest of them.” Cat sat down next to us. “What is that?”

  “Hot cocoa,” I told her.

  “That looks good,” she said. “Can I have one?”

  I made my stepsister a hot cocoa just like I’d done for my father, wondering if instead of a lemonade stand I could start a hot cocoa one to make some extra cash since they were turning out to be so popular.

  “You’ll just have to start your own gang,” I told her. “And besides, you can’t force people to like you.”

  “And who exactly is going to be in this gang?” she said darkly. “No one will talk to me. I can’t get people who won’t talk to me to like me and be my friend.”

  “I don’t like all this talk about gangs,” Dad said. “No one should be in a gang. You girls are making me nervous.”

  “It’s not really a gang anyway is it?” I said. “It’s a posse or a girl squad.”

  “Feminist power,” Cat said, holding up her fist. “One for all and all for one until someone swipes your favorite lipstick.”

  “That’s it,” Dad said, pushing his mug away. “I’ve had enough estrogen for one day. I’m off to watch the football.”

  “That was kind of sexist,” Cat said.

  “He’s living in a house full of women and now has a barn full of them as well,” I told her. “I think sometimes he wishes I was a boy.”

  “Meatball is a boy,” Cat said.

  “Somehow I don’t think that counts,” I said as the orange cat jumped up on the counter and started licking the leftover marshmallows.

  “Well you could always get your boyfriend to come over and hang out with him,” Cat said.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I told her.

  “That’s what you think,” she replied with a knowing smile.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It looked like my dad was going to get his wish for some male company when Jordan came down the drive the next day on his motorbike. It was cold but he had his leather jacket on, looking so much cooler than I ever could. I didn’t know what he saw in me. It certainly wasn’t the makeup because that had stayed where I’d tossed it, until Cat had seen it.

  “You’re throwing that out?” she had said, snatching the box out of the trash like it was a gold bar.

  “I guess,” I told her.

  “But it hasn’t even been opened and that is the Impossibly Beautiful palette,” she said dreamily.

  “The what now?” I said.

  “Never mind,” Cat said, shaking her head like she knew I would never understand the powers that a box of powder that you smeared on your face could have. Which was right, I didn’t.

  “If you don’t want it,” she said meekly. “Can I have it?”

  “Sure, whatever,” I told her. “I don’t care.”

  “Yes,” she shrieked, jumping up and down. “Now the girls at school will have something to be jealous about.”

  And she ran off to her room. The
next morning she’d stuck her head in my bedroom before she left for school.

  “Well?” she said, pointing to her eyes.

  “Nice,” I said, even though I didn’t think that she looked impossibly beautiful at all. I just thought she looked as good as she always did, which was better than me because Cat looked good no matter what she did.

  I shook my head to clear it of all makeup related things. Jordan was here and he probably didn’t care that I wasn’t wearing any and he’d probably never ask me to either, not like Mickey. And if he did then he wouldn't be the sort of person that I’d want to hang around with in the first place because as far as I was concerned, beauty wasn’t about what you smeared on your face or the kind of clothes you wore, it was about what was beneath the skin. What was inside you, that was what really counted.

  “Hey!” Jordan waved.

  I waved back.

  “You here to see my father?” I asked him, wiping my dirty hands on my jeans.

  I’d been grooming Hashtag because Rose’s sister was supposed to come and try him out later and I wanted him to make a good impression. What with Oscar arriving and our limited pasture space, things were getting a little crowded at Second Chance Farm and having Hashtag out on lease would help not only with the room but also with a little bit of extra cash each month.

  “No,” Jordan said. “I’m here to see you.”

  “Oh,” I replied, feeling all tongue tied.

  “I brought your Christmas present. I’m sorry it's late.” He handed me a lumpy package wrapped in happy birthday paper. “And I’m sorry I didn’t have any Christmas paper,” he added.

  “That is okay,” I said. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Of course I did,” he said, which just made me feel horrible.

  I’d wasted so much time trying to decide what to get Jordan that in the end I got him nothing. I was sort of hoping that by the time he got back, he would have forgotten about exchanging gifts but apparently not. And after spending more than I meant to on Mickey, I didn’t really have enough money left to get him anything decent anyway. I wished I could have taken the halter back because Mickey hadn’t deserved it. Jordan was the one who deserved something and now I had nothing for him.