Beginner's Luck (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 18)

by Claire Svendsen

  “Because I said so,” I said.

  “Ugh, that’s what my mom says,” Faith whined. “And it’s not a reason.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Come here.”

  She walked Macaroni over to me with a sigh.

  “Now get down.”

  “Why?” she said.

  I raised an eyebrow and put my hands on my hips.

  “I know, I know,” she said. “Because you said so.”

  She slithered out of the saddle and stood there looking more like a petulant five year old than her usual adult like self.

  “Now go and jump that course of jumps.”

  I pointed to the brightly colored small fences that they had been working over. She was about to get back into the saddle when I grabbed the reins.

  “No,” I said. “You jump them, without your pony.”

  “What?” she cried. “What is the point of that?”

  “Go and do it and then you’ll see.”

  “But everyone will laugh at me. I mean I used to do that when I was like three years old. That’s what babies do.”

  “Babies also whine and don’t do as they’re told and as a result don’t get to go to shows either.”

  “Fine,” she snapped.

  I rubbed poor Macaroni’s face as Faith took off at a halfhearted run. She leapt over the first small vertical and made her way to the next.

  “Faster,” I yelled. “And jump higher. Pick your feet up.”

  The course wasn’t that high or that long but by the time Faith came back to me she was huffing and puffing and her face was red. It was hot, the afternoon sun high in the sky and the temperature almost ninety degrees. Only diehards like us rode at this time of day.

  “Tired?” I said.

  She nodded and gulped in the air.

  “Legs hurt?”

  “Yes,” she said sheepishly.

  “Now how many times did you jump that course?”

  “Once.”

  “And how many times did Macaroni jump it today?”

  “Oh poor Mac,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. “I made you jump it like three or four times and I didn’t even think once about how tired you must be. I’m a horrible, horrible person.”

  “No you’re not,” I said gently. “But your pony is not a machine. You need to let him save some energy for the show. If he jumps a million jumps today, how will he feel this weekend?”

  “Really tired,” she said.

  “Right and you have to factor in the heat too. You can’t ask as much of him when it is hot like this. Okay? Being a good rider isn’t just about who jumps the highest or how many blue ribbons you get. It’s also being the best horseman you can be and putting your pony’s needs first. Got it?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just get so excited.”

  “It’s okay.” I put my arm around her. “I get that way too sometimes. Now get a cool drink and we’ll head off for the trail. I think Mickey is finishing up her lesson.”

  I pointed to the dressage ring where Hampton was walking on a loose rein and Miss. Fontain was walking next to him, waving her hands about like she was trying to explain something to Mickey.

  “Oh no,” Faith said. “I couldn’t possibly ask Mac to go out on the trail now. I’m going to cool him off and give him a nice bath and everything.”

  “We’re only going to walk,” I said. “He’ll be okay.”

  But my lecture must have really sunk in because nothing I said would change Faith’s mind. She was stubborn like that and in a way I was kind of glad. I wanted to talk to Mickey about Dakota and Jordan and things that she was almost too young to understand. The hardship of having everything you loved snatched away from you and the completely and utterly confusing feelings you had for a boy that you liked and were mad at all at the same time.

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

  We rode along the shaded part of the trail because it was too hot to be in the sun and when we found a shady spot under some trees where the grass was tall and green, we got off and let the horses graze. Mickey had seen Faith running around the field and wanted to know what had been going on. When I told her, she laughed.

  “You are so mean,” she said. “Poor Faith. She won’t want to ride Macaroni at all now.”

  “Of course she will,” I said. “But she has to understand that she can’t ride that pony into the ground.”

  “Sounds like she needs two ponies,” Mickey said.

  “I think she’d be happy with a whole barn full of ponies,” I said.

  “Who does that remind you of?” Mickey said.

  “Very funny,” I replied. “Besides, I already told you that I’m trying to get Dakota the ride on Wizard.”

  “And Jordan is okay with that?” she said.

  “Jordan is okay with whatever I say right now.” I sat down on a tree stump. “He just wants me to not be mad with him.”

  “Seems like it’s working,” Mickey said, sitting next to me.

  “I was never mad at him,” I said. “I was worried.”

  “But he should have told people that he was okay. It was dumb to let people think that he’d been kidnapped or something.”

  “He had to work some stuff out,” I said. “I get that.”

  “Well if you ever run off and don’t let me know you’re okay, when you get back, I’ll kill you,” Mickey said.

  “I believe you,” I said, laughing.

  But in the back of my mind the idea of disappearing for a while was appealing. Going someplace where no one knew who you were and starting over fresh. I could see why maybe Jordan had wanted to stay hidden a little while longer.

  “Well I’m just glad everything is back to normal,” she said.

  “Whatever that is,” I replied.

  But the day before the show it seemed like everything was finally going to be normal again after all. The mail came and with it my father’s reinstatement. He tore open the letter and then whooped and hollered around the kitchen, grabbing Missy in his arms and swinging her about.

  “Be quiet,” she scolded him. “Owen has just gone down for a nap.”

  But Dad didn’t care. I’d never seen him so excited about anything before. I hadn’t realized the toll that the whole ordeal had taken on him. He’d slunk back from Europe with his tail between his legs and now he’d been vindicated.

  “Does this mean maybe we can concentrate on getting our own farm up and running now?” Missy said. “Instead of funneling all our spare cash into the save your good name fund.”

  “Yes,” Dad cried. “We’ll fix up the house and the barn and we’ll fill it with ponies and horses for Emily to ride. What do you think Em?”

  “Sounds great,” I said.

  I didn’t add that it almost sounded too good to be true because I was a little afraid. It was like the dream I’d had my whole life coming true. Being able to look out my window and call to my pony in the field down below. To ride day and night and know that everything was ours. We wouldn’t just be tenants who ran the farm. The hired help. It would all belong to us. The house. The land. The horses. All of it. And no one would ever be able to take it away from us. It would pretty much be the best thing to ever happen to me and as my father grabbed my hand and started to spin me around, I let myself believe that he could make all my dreams come true because in that one moment, it seemed like he could.

  CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

  The schooling show wasn’t a big deal. It was one of those that was being held at a local farm to help raise money for their new arena, which meant we were all going to be jumping out on the grass, only all the grass was now a crunchy dried up sea of brown thanks to the sudden lack of rain. Since the storm the day I rode out to the beach to find Dakota, we’d had nothing but endless days of scorching sunshine.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird?” Faith said. “Where has the rain gone?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, staring out of the barn aisle at the clear blue sky. “But
when it starts again you’ll be wishing that you’d never asked for it in the first place.”

  “I suppose,” she said. “But everything is so dry and crunchy. It’s gross and too hot. At least the rain cools it off.” She pulled her t-shirt away from her body and flapped it about trying to make a breeze.

  “Go and sit in front of the fan in the tack room if you’re too hot,” I said.

  “Can’t,” she said. “Have to bathe Macaroni.”

  She went off to get her pony and I stood there staring out at the dying grass and the already dead plants. It had been my job to water them but considering the fact that they dried up about five minutes after you turned off the hose it was kind of a lost cause. But Faith was right. We did need rain and lots of it. Small brush fires had been popping up all over the state and a burn ban was in effect. Fire freaked me out. I didn’t even like to think what would happen if one came anywhere near us. It made me feel sick just thinking about it.

  I tried to push the thought of the world burning out of my head and went to clean Arion’s tack for the show. I had lumped everything into a big pile in front of the fan and was soaping away when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I looked around to see Dakota standing there, back in her usual blue jeans and plaid shirt.

  “Hey,” I said. “Want to come in and help me clean tack?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  She came and sat down next to me and I gave her a sponge and Arion’s bit that had dried up crusty grass slobber all over it.

  “Gross,” she said.

  “I know, he’s a pig,” I replied with a laugh.

  “So your dad called me,” she said after we’d sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “He did?” I said, pretending not to know.

  Really I did. I’d heard him the night before when I’d come down to check on the horses. He was in the office on the phone talking to Dakota’s grandparents. I don’t know what they told him, probably the same thing that I already knew, that Dakota’s life had suddenly become very hard, much harder than any fourteen year old should have to deal with. But whatever was said worked. Dad agreed that Dakota could come back and take lessons and that she would be allowed to ride Wizard at the show but if she did anything else stupid, she was out for good.

  “I like your dad,” she said. “He’s nice.”

  “Most of the time,” I said.

  “My father is dying,” she said after a long pause.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I focused on the noseband I was scrubbing so that I wouldn’t have to look at her. I knew that if I was her I wouldn’t want people to look at me and pity me.

  “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have taken Wizard. It was wrong. I don’t even know what I was thinking except that I needed to get back home to Texas.”

  “You were going to ride Wizard the whole way back to Texas?” I said.

  “I know, dumb right? We never would have made it.”

  “You really wouldn’t have made it,” I said. “Wizard is many things but he is not an endurance horse.”

  “He’s pretty cool though,” she said. “I like him a lot.”

  “Well just don’t get too attached,” I said. “The boy who owns him will want him back when his broken arm heals.”

  “I know,” she said. “My grandparents are thinking about leasing me a horse to ride.”

  “Well that’s cool,” I said.

  “I don’t know that I’m totally into this whole jumping thing though,” she said, looking around at the English saddles lined up on the racks. “I miss running barrels.”

  “I’m sure we could set some up for you somewhere out of the way,” I said, imagining the horrified look on all the hunter and dressage princesses when they saw Dakota galloping hell bent for leather around some fifty barrel drums. “Maybe you could even teach me a thing or two?”

  “I doubt that,” she said.

  “I think you’d be surprised at how much I don’t know,” I said. “I may act like I know it all but I definitely don’t know it all.”

  “Me either,” she said. “Especially when it comes to life stuff.”

  “I just close my eyes and hope for the best half the time,” I said.

  “I do that over the jumps,” she said.

  “Well please keep your eyes open at the show this weekend,” I said. “We really don’t need you and Wizard to crash and burn.”

  “I’ll try.” She laughed.

  “You’d better,” I said.

  “Deal,” she said.

  We were both laughing when Mickey appeared and soon Faith joined us and we all sat there in the tack room eating popsicles that my father had brought down and laughing about Dakota and Wizard’s adventure on the trail. It was funny now even though it hadn’t been at the time. Scary things were always like that. Sort of like you were so relieved they were over that you had to laugh otherwise you’d cry. But I hoped that Dakota would have a good time at the show and that it would help her to forget her old horses and her dying father because neither of those things were anything to laugh about at all.

  CHAPTER FORTY NINE

  It’s going to be ninety five degrees,” Faith wailed. She was clutching her phone, staring at the weather app with tears in her eyes. “It’s too hot. Poor Macaroni,” she added.

  “Told you,” Mickey said as she walked past. “You’ve created a monster.”

  “It’s fine,” I told Faith. “Go and put Macaroni’s shipping boots on.”

  I pushed the boots into her arms and shoved her in the direction of Macaroni’s stall, shaking my head.

  “What have you done to my little over achiever?” Missy said as she came out of the tack room. “It’s like she doesn’t even want to ride now in case she hurts that pony’s feelings.”

  “I was just trying to teach her a little compassion,” I said. “You know, make it so that she didn’t think Macaroni was a machine who could jump a million jumps.”

  “I get what you were trying to do,” Missy said. “But I think your plan has backfired and I have no room for a student who wants to wrap their pony in a blanket and read him bed time stories instead of riding him.”

  “She’s not that bad,” I said.

  But no sooner had I said the words than Faith came back with a worried look on her face.

  “Missy?” she said. “I can scratch at the show if it’s too hot, can’t I?”

  Missy just nodded and sighed.

  “Thank you,” Faith said before running off again.

  Missy turned to look at me, totally unamused. “Want to bet that she’s not that bad?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she rides,” I said, even though I had no idea how I was going to do that.

  We loaded the horses and ponies and headed off in the direction of the show. Arion bounded into the trailer like a toddler pumped up on sugar, his ears pricked and eyes shining brightly. I was just glad that I’d already dosed him with his ulcer medication. I didn’t need that over excitement turning into something else after the show.

  Dakota sat in the back of the truck with us, her face a little green.

  “Don’t be nervous,” I said. “It’s a tiny little show, just like going out to school at a different farm really. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It feels like a big deal.” She gulped. “What if I mess Wizard up?”

  “Then my father will fix him,” I said. “Besides what is there to mess up? Point him at the jumps and he’ll jump them. The horse is practically a schoolmaster.”

  I knew now why Jordan had been able to go from a rock band playing, motorcycle riding, tattooed bad boy to a seemingly flawless jumper rider. It wasn’t his mad skills at all. It was Wizard. He was like Encore, a horse that could make even the worst of riders look good. A horse that would do his job regardless of what you did up in the saddle and forgive even the most horrible riding mistakes and the worst distances. A horse that would jump despite you instead of because of you. Basically a
horse that was worth their weight in gold. There weren’t too many of them out there. Jordan was lucky and so was Dakota because I had no doubt in my mind that the horse was going to save her butt today more than once.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  I was right. The show was a small local affair that a lot of my usual competition had decided to skip. That meant that Arion and I had a good shot at winning the baby jumper class. In fact we all had good chances, even Dakota. And Faith was usually a sure thing anyway, except maybe not now that I’d ruined her drive to win at all costs.

  We unloaded the horses onto the brown grass and tied them to the trailer. There were no stalls to rent here, the only barn being the one that housed their regular horses. Luckily the trailer parking was alongside a fence where a row of old oak trees draped in Spanish moss provided ample shade.

  “I’m going to scratch,” Faith said, wiping the sweat off her forehead. “It’s too hot.”

  “Good luck Faithy Waithy,” a girl called out as she walked past. She was leading a flashy black and white paint who was braided and sparkling in the bright sun. “Dragon is really on his game today. Don’t expect us to come in second like we did last time.”

  “You can try to beat us but you won’t,” Faith snapped back.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have named your pony after food that makes you fat,” the girl yelled over her shoulder.

  “Well maybe you shouldn’t have named your pony after something that kills people,” Faith yelled back.

  “What was that about?” I said. “Besides, didn’t you say you were scratching?”

  “Not now that I know Melanie Kurzinsky is here with her evil dragon pony,” Faith said, picking up a brush and attacking Macaroni’s coat with it.

  “Okay,” I said. “Who is Melanie Kurzinsky?”

  “My arch nemesis,” Faith said.

  “Aren’t you a little young to have an arch nemesis?” I said.

  “Everyone has an arch nemesis,” Faith said.