It felt like the biggest decision I had ever made in my life. I couldn’t quite breathe, but it was a different kind of couldn’t breathe from the panicky kind. It was an excited breathlessness, like the time I’d turned off on to the trail.
We walked the ponies toward each other and I handed Jane Tyler’s reins. She forced a nervous smile and handed me Frankie’s.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she said.
Hailey had hopped on Donald and gathered up her reins. “Me neither. You guys are in deep doo-doo.”
“We’ll be in deep doo-doo together.” I glanced at Jane one more time to make sure she was still in. Until we were on the ponies we could still forget the whole thing, but she didn’t look like she was having second thoughts.
I slid the reins over Frankie’s head and put my foot in the stirrup. I hoisted myself into the saddle, feeling Frankie under me, and suddenly everything felt right. That feeling only lasted a split second, though, because Kitty walked into the ring. She saw Jane on Tyler first. She stopped right where she was and a girl cantering by had to circle so she wouldn’t hit her. Kitty still didn’t move. She looked like she was trying to figure out if what she was seeing was for real since it could be the biggest shake-up of Pony Finals since Hillary Friedman was disqualified for schooling someone else’s pony two years ago.
I could see the thoughts going through Kitty’s head: would she be the one to get the best pony at Pony Finals disqualified? Or would she help out Susie, and figure out what was going on?
Before Kitty could say or do anything, Susie and Martha pulled up in the golf cart. Susie caught sight of us and flew out of the cart before Martha had even come to a complete stop. She busted into the ring looking like she was about to scream, but then she must have realized she didn’t want to draw attention to the situation in case there was a chance of keeping it under wraps and fixing it. She glanced around the ring to survey who else was there and noticed Kitty.
“What are you girls doing?” Susie said. “Is this some kind of joke? Get off now!”
“It’s too late,” Kitty said. “I saw them.”
Kitty had made her decision, or maybe she’d never been considering whether to help out Susie in the first place. Either way, it didn’t matter because we’d made our choice.
“I want to show Frankie.” I sat up taller. “I don’t want to ride Tyler. And Jane doesn’t want to ride Frankie. She wants to ride Tyler, so it’s okay.”
“It’s okay? You don’t . . . you can’t . . . your mother and your father . . .”
I’d never seen Susie so flustered or angry. Her face was red and as she spoke she was gesturing wildly with her hands. “Oh my god, girls, do you know what you’ve done? You’re probably both disqualified because you’re entered on Tyler and you’re entered on Frankie so even if you wanted to switch you can’t.”
Jane’s mouth fell open as she realized Susie was right but I followed up quickly. “I changed the entries yesterday afternoon.”
“You did?” Jane said.
I gave Jane a reassuring nod. After Jane had said she was in, I’d gone to the office and made the changes.
I saw Susie relax a little, her shoulders lowering. At least we weren’t disqualified. But then it was like she remembered that even if we weren’t disqualified, she had a huge problem on her hands.
“Regan, your mom bought you the best pony in the country—what’s going on?”
I looked down at Frankie’s braids. Martha had come into the ring. “I think I know,” she said.
I met Martha’s eyes. She didn’t look mad. She almost looked sympathetic. “Regan never wanted the pony.”
“Is that right?” Susie said.
I nodded and let out a breath that I’d been holding since Mom had first told me she wanted to go look at Tyler. I thought it would feel awful to have everyone know the truth and it was scary, but good, too.
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because she couldn’t,” Martha said. “Her mother wanted the pony.”
Susie sighed and turned to Jane. “And you?”
I spoke up for Jane. “She’s sick of making up ponies and then not getting to show them at big shows.”
“I don’t need to show them for a whole season or anything,” Jane added. “I just don’t understand why I couldn’t have had Ike for Devon.”
Susie rubbed her eyes like she was still hoping this whole scene would just go away. “You guys are going to have a lot of explaining to do to your parents.”
Kitty listened to our whole conversation, not even pretending to mind her own business. I bet she was still trying to figure out how she could get Tyler disqualified.
I reached out and scratched Frankie’s neck. “But can we ride them?”
“I don’t know about that yet,” Susie said. “Tommy will probably want Frankie to go, but I don’t know if your mom will want Tyler to show if you’re not on him. It’s not like he’s got anything to prove.”
I felt a sharp pain at Susie’s words. What if I had gotten Jane into this whole mess and then Jane had the nice pony pulled out from under her just like always?
Chapter 50
* * *
Susie let us school the ponies, but she barely said anything to us. It was like she was still in shock. Tyler went perfectly with Jane. She looked beautiful on him and gave him a smooth and soft ride. If she showed him, she’d have a really good chance of winning. It made it all the more painful to think about her not getting to ride him. I tried to push aside the terrible pit that was growing in my stomach as the initial excitement at making my own choice receded and all I was left with was the fear of having to tell Mom what I’d done. I had a flashback to the car when she’d made the wrong turn and how she’d spoken to me in that horrible tone of voice. That wasn’t my real mom. That was the cancer talking. But would I be able to talk to my real mom?
I tried to concentrate on giving Frankie a good ride. I needed to show Susie that I was good with him. And I desperately needed to practice if there was any way I was going to show him in the Walnut Ring tomorrow and make it past the first jump. I’d ridden him well, but that was at home. I’d never even shown him.
When we got back to the barn, Jane gave Tyler to Martha. I helped Jane untack Frankie and get him put away.
“My dad is going to kill me,” she said as she worked on Frankie’s saddle mark, rubbing his back with a rag.
I brushed Frankie’s other side, putting all my effort into it. “My mom is going to kill me.”
“Your mom is going to kill me.”
I looked at Jane over Frankie’s back. “Your dad is going to kill me.”
We both stared laughing. Jane tossed the rag into the grooming box. “What are we going to do?”
Thankfully Jane wasn’t blaming me for getting her into this mess. She didn’t hate me. But I was to blame. “It was all my idea. I can tell your dad that I convinced you to do it, which is the truth.”
“I’m not letting you take the fall for it.” Jane picked up a brush. “No, this is good. He’s finally going to know how I feel—just like you said.”
“And same for my mom.”
But we both knew we were trying hard to convince ourselves.
After Frankie was put away, I went to Tyler’s stall. Martha was trimming his nonexistent whiskers. She whistled when she saw me, like people do when you’ve done something really bad or really crazy.
“I know. I’m in big trouble.”
“I didn’t think you had it in you.” Her lips were curling up slightly—it seemed like she was smiling, which wasn’t exactly the reaction I had expected.
“I didn’t either.”
Martha switched off the clippers. “Good for you.”
“Really?”
“Well, I’m not sure I condone your tactics, but good for you for doing something besides the self-sabotage thing.”
“You mean going off course . . .”
She ran her hand ov
er Tyler’s muzzle, checking for any missed whiskers. “And missing distances.”
“I can’t believe you knew.”
“I can’t believe no one else did.” Martha rubbed under Tyler’s jaw. He leaned toward her. I felt badly that I didn’t like him more—he deserved a kid to love him. He was just a ticket to a blue ribbon for everyone who rode or took care of him. Martha looked at me with concern. “It’ll be okay, kiddo, whatever happens.”
“I just have to get my mom to let Jane ride Tyler,” I said.
Martha nodded. “Yup, you do.”
Chapter 51
* * *
Before Susie could tell me I needed to call Mom, I went out by the manure pile and called her. The medium model was today and we needed to know whether Jane would be showing Tyler. I wanted to be where no trainers or riders would be—the only people were grooms dumping wheelbarrows.
“Hi, sweetie, how’s it going?” Mom’s voice was fake-chipper, which was only making this harder. She’d probably been asleep when I called and was now pretending she was feeling much better.
“Um, okay.” I tried to gauge how with it she was. Which mom was I talking to?
“What’s up? Is something wrong? Is Tyler okay?”
I wiped my forehead with my free hand. It was already hot out and heat seemed to be steaming off the manure pile. Maybe I should have picked a better location, but it was too late now to find some place else. “Something is wrong. I did something that’s going to make you really mad.”
“Oh, I can’t imagine that,” Mom said. She sounded like her old self, only maybe nicer and more Zen.
“Yeah, well, I talked Jane into switching ponies with me.”
There was a short silence. “What do you mean, switching ponies?”
I made it sound like we were riding bareback or playing sit-a-buck, not showing at the country’s biggest pony competition. The barn announcer came on the PA with an announcement about the pony auction and I had to wait until he was done to speak again. “I didn’t want to show Tyler. I want to show Frankie.”
Mom listened as I told her about my plan and Susie finding us in the ring and how if we didn’t swap ponies now we’d both be disqualified. By the time I was done, she was still quiet. Finally she said, “I’m sorry, honey. I got crazy—the cancer made me crazy.”
I wasn’t sure if she was talking about buying me Tyler, or what happened in the car the day she tried to drive me to the barn. It was hard to figure out how lucid she was now. “Mom, I can ride Frankie well. I really want to. And Tyler can still show with Jane. He’ll be grand champion—I’m sure.”
“Of course you can,” she said. “You’re going to do great.”
Dad got on the phone next and I told him everything that I’d told Mom. “Did she understand what happened? What I did?” I asked him. I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was all too late. Wouldn’t old Mom be more upset?
“Yes,” he said, but I couldn’t tell if he was lying.
“So I can ride Frankie?” This was too easy. It felt all wrong. There was supposed to be a fight.
“Just do me a favor and don’t get hurt,” he said. “I’ll be there late tonight. Wendy’s coming to stay.”
I walked back into the barn to hear Jane having a similar conversation with her dad, only it sounded more normal, punctuated by anger and accusations. It was how my conversation with my mother should have been. It felt crazy to be jealous of people having an argument, but that’s exactly how I felt.
“What pony you ride is not your choice,” Tommy said. “You don’t get to ride ponies like Tyler.”
“It doesn’t have to be Tyler. I just want to be able to keep a pony I bring along for a big show every once in a while.”
“So this is about Devon,” Tommy said. “When someone’s ready to cut a big check I can’t exactly say, wait, hold on, Jane wants to show at Devon. I know you just paid a lot of money, but you wouldn’t mind skipping Devon, would you?”
“Why not? Jen Stiller did it with Maddie and Enchanted.”
“Which is stupid. What if the pony gets hurt? Deal’s off.”
“Then maybe I quit,” Jane said. “Maybe you should find another rider.”
I got goosebumps listening to Jane. She was so brave. I guess all those reject ponies had made her really tough out of the ring, too.
“That’s what you want? Quit riding?”
“No. I just want one big show every now and then on a pony I made. I want one shot to get the top jog and pose for the pictures and see the article in The Chronicle and think, I made that pony a winner. Not see a picture of another girl grinning with my pony and my trophy.”
Jane’s voice was loud now. Not angry, but full of conviction. Tommy was the quiet one. Then they were both silent. Since I couldn’t see them I wondered what was happening. Had Jane or Tommy stomped off? Were they staring at each other? My stomach ached as the silence stretched—I had caused all of this. I was about to go tell Tommy it was all my fault and to give Jane a break when I heard his voice again.
“Okay, I get it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You work hard with these ponies. We could get you a big show—I’m not saying every big show, but a big show, now and then.”
“Oh my god, I never thought you’d see my side! Dad!”
They must have been hugging because their voices were muffled, but then I could make out, “You’re a great rider. I’m sorry I haven’t let you enjoy that much.”
Tears pressed at my eyes again. They were happy tears for Jane and the way she and her dad had gotten to understand each other, but they were jealous, angry tears, too. Had Mom and I gotten the same chance to understand each other, or had it been too late when I’d tried to make her see what I wanted?
Chapter 52
* * *
I stood outside the Walnut Ring before the green medium model, more nervous than I could ever remember being at a show. I’d defied my dying mother, shook up my barn and my best friend’s life, and started the whole horse show gossiping. Now I needed to prove to everyone it had been a good idea. I had to prove that I could ride a green pony, and Jane had to prove that with the right pony she could win big under pressure.
I saw Ava Higgenbotham as I was standing outside the ring.
She glanced at Frankie. “So it’s true you’re doing him instead of Tyler?”
“Yup.” I waited to see what she would say, bracing myself, even though Ava was usually nice enough.
She smiled. “That’s cool.”
The announcer called for my section of the model to enter the ring. Frankie was still a little on the skinny side, but it was amazing how far he’d come from the pony who had arrived back in April. Jane and the grooms had worked hard on getting him clean and clipped and, once we’d learned that we could show the ponies, Jane and I had spent the remaining time before the model applying the final touches. We’d used white horse spray paint to make his hocks gleam brightly and baby oiled his muzzle. The braider had woven in a fake tail—it wasn’t as beautiful as Tyler’s custom tail, but it looked full and pretty.
I was third in line going into the ring and led Frankie down the long side. The judges were finishing up with the group in front of us, who stood their ponies in a line parallel to ours on the other side of the ring. The all-weather footing, groomed to perfection, gave just the right amount under my feet. It was really hot out, but the moment I was in the ring I forgot all about how much I was sweating under my coat and shirt.
Unlike Tyler, who knew how to model, Frankie was nervous and skittish, looking around the arena as if he was watching for someone to give him a clue to what was going on.
“It’s okay,” I told him, patting his neck.
Compared to riding, it would seem like a model class was pretty easy. But strange things could happen. Ponies refused to stand still; they spooked or reared. Last year one of the top ponies laid down and tried to roll, scoring zero, and no chance at an overall ribbon. There was far more talent,
and art, to winning a model than it looked like, especially with a green pony that didn’t have an auto-pose mode. Everything had happened so fast that I’d barely even had time to practice modeling with Frankie.
I led Frankie a few steps forward and then asked him to halt. He came to a stop with one foot more forward than the other. I tried asking him to move his one foot backward so it would be in line with the other by pressing on his shoulder. When he put it back down it was too far back. I decided to circle and start all over. The judges were still finishing up with the other group so I had time. I halted him again, making sure to leave enough room between me and the bay pony in front of us. At the back of the line a pony was skittering sideways, head raised, and I hoped it wouldn’t set off a chain reaction and unnerve Frankie completely. This time I got him to set his feet nearly square with his hind end under him.
I stood in front of him, letting him relax for a few moments. The trick to a model was timing. It didn’t do any good if you had your pony standing perfectly and the judges were looking at the pony four down the line from you. So I let Frankie veg while the judges finished scoring the other section. It felt like it was taking a long time for the judges to finish and the pony in the back was still acting up. Frankie swiveled his head to look behind him. I tried to persuade him to look back at me. Finally, the other section led their ponies out of the ring and the three judges walked over to our group. The judges spread out with two starting at the front of the line and one starting at the back. When the first judge was one pony away from me, I took the squeaky cat toy out of my breeches’ pocket and used it to get Frankie’s attention. I held it out in front of his nose and squeezed it. His ears perked up and he stretched his nose out to reach it. But then he started to fidget and I just knew he was about to move his feet again. The cat toy maybe had been too much for him. I stuck it back in my pocket as he shifted sideways, crowding his feet too close together.
The first judge was finishing scribbling notes on her clipboard about the pony in front of me and would be judging Frankie in a matter of seconds. Should I circle Frankie and try to get him back in place in time for the judge to look at him? Or try to work with how he was standing now? The way he was standing made his chest look sunken and narrow and his hind end was trailing behind him. I had no choice but to circle him. Just please, I thought as I went to line him up again, please let him stand up square.
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