City Secrets

by Jessica Burkhart

  “Heather! And . . . Sarah. Hi,” said Blake.

  “It’s Sasha,” I said. I was tired of this girl acting like I wasn’t important enough to remember my name. So. Rude.

  “Hey,” Emma added. “What’re you guys doing on the ground? Did you fall?” Her gray gelding flared his nostrils as he tossed his head.

  “Hardly,” Heather said with a snort. “We were walking the jump course. We’ve got a schooling show coming up soon and—”

  “We’ll practice with you,” Blake said, cutting off Heather. I glanced back and forth between them. No one ever interrupted Heather. That was, like, taught to every incoming student on the first day of school. The more I saw Blake, Emma, and Heather together, the less I was able to picture them all being close friends. I wondered if things had just fallen apart when Heather had left for Canterwood. Maybe Heather had been the leader of this clique and Blake felt threatened with Heather back in town.

  “We were kind of going to coach each other,” I said.

  “Well, if you’re practicing for a show,” Emma said. “You should want as many people to critique you as possible.” She smiled down at me from her bay gelding.

  “Fine,” Heather said.

  What?! I didn’t want to ride with these girls! Heather and I had staked out the jump course for ourselves—couldn’t they go somewhere else?

  “Sasha’s riding first,” Heather said.

  “Perfect,” Blake said.

  My stomach churned. This reminded me of a lesson at Canterwood. Mr. Conner had made us all critique one another. Heather had torn up my ride and so had Julia and Alison. I had a feeling that was exactly what this was going to be.

  But worse.

  This was Blake’s and Emma’s territory. They treated Heather like a friend and an outsider at the same time. It had to be weird for her, too. But they’d all at least ridden together before. I’d never seen these girls ride. My gut told me that they were going to be pretty good if they were so quick to want to critique us.

  I circled Limitless at a walk, then eased him into a trot. My fingers, already sweating, were making the reins slick. I let Limitless out of the circle and gave him rein, allowing him to move into a canter. He glided forward and I pointed him toward the first vertical. It was reasonably low with red-and-white poles.

  Don’tmessupdon’tmessupdon’tmessup ran though my head at a dizzying pace. Focus, I told myself. I had to forget about Blake, Emma, and Heather and just concentrate on my ride. If I thought about them, I wouldn’t be able to give my best.

  Limitless was strides away from the vertical, his hooves pounding the dirt, so I started counting strides. Four, three, two, one, now! On now, I lifted slightly out of the saddle and moved my hands along his neck. Limitless jumped into the air, tucking his knees beneath him. He landed on the other side of the vertical and I almost cheered with relief when I didn’t hear his back hooves click the rail. One down! Nine to go. . . .

  Limitless cantered for six strides before we approached the first oxer. The spread was a couple of feet and didn’t have any decorations on the sides to distract the horses. I let Limitless gain a fraction of speed so he had enough momentum to easily clear the spread.

  At just the right moment, Limitless launched into the air, and for a short second we were airborne. There was no rush like it. Nothing made me feel this good. When I jumped I forgot about everything else going on around me. All I could hear was Limitless’s breathing and his hooves hitting the ground. It was my job to get him around the course, and I couldn’t have been more focused. Heather, Emma, and Blake had slipped away, and it was as if Limitless and I were the only ones in the arena.

  Limitless reached the third jump—another vertical. This one was taller than the last and the rails were painted with a dizzying yellow-and-black pattern. Limitless rocked back on his haunches and thrust himself into the air. I gave him enough rein to stretch his neck and he cleared the vertical without pause.

  We moved toward the fourth jump, making a half circle and approaching another oxer. This one was made of dark rails that looked like logs. Greenery and flowers surrounded both sides. There was a lot for a horse to look at with this jump. Limitless flicked his ears back and forth, slowing a notch.

  I squeezed my legs against his sides and drove him forward. If I let him slow, I risked him trying to run out or halt before the jump. I kept his canter steady and I didn’t count strides this time—I kept all my focus on Limitless and making sure he jumped. His hoofbeats quickened as I encouraged him to canter faster, since this oxer had a wider spread. Limitless’s pace increased, but I felt him start to pull to the right. He was not running out on the jump. Gently I pulled on the left rein and used my legs to press him back in line. We were strides away and I pushed him forward. He jumped, hesitating only slightly, and I felt him stretch over the spread.

  We’ve got it, I thought. But I heard a thud as one of his back hooves clipped the rail. The rail tumbled to the ground behind us and I fought back my disappointment. I didn’t care as much that I’d messed up in front of Emma and Blake, but more that I hadn’t been able to make a clean jump when I’d had plenty of time to correct Limitless.

  But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. We approached a double combination, and the timing on those is crucial. Limitless, recovered from his earlier scare, moved toward the first half of the combo with confidence. His long strides carried us to the jump and he cleared it with ease. Two strides later we were in the air again as he took the second half of the combo. We landed cleanly on the other side and it made me smile. That had been perfect.

  The sixth jump, a faux stone wall, required us to make a sweeping turn around the corner of the arena, giving us plenty of time to face it. The extra time, though, caused problems for some horses. They couldn’t see through a wall like they could other jumps, and it was another obstacle where run outs or refusals often happened.

  But Limitless didn’t seem fazed by the wall. His canter didn’t slow as we moved toward the plastic stone. Just before the jump, I lifted out of the saddle and let him arch over the jump. He landed on the other side with a snort, proud of himself, and we headed for the final three jumps.

  We cantered past Heather, Emma, and Blake, but I didn’t allow myself to look at them. I was thisclose to being done, and I wasn’t going to get distracted now. The last three jumps were verticals, each increasing in height. Whoever had made this course had known how to challenge the horse when he was most tired, at the end of the course.

  But Limitless wasn’t showing any signs of fatigue. His stride hadn’t slowed and he was moving with ease over each jump.

  “We’ve got this, boy,” I whispered to him. I knew Mr. Conner didn’t like it when I talked to my horse during a ride, but I couldn’t help it. Limitless was doing great.

  We took the next blue-and-white vertical, hopped over the second, and four strides later, we’d approached the final jump. Limitless seemed to know this was the end of the course. He pushed off hard with his hind legs and snapped his forelegs under his body.

  We’d nailed it.

  I enjoyed the sensation of being in the air and grinned when we hit the ground. I didn’t care about the rail we’d knocked—Limitless had made up for it in every other possible way. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been scared, and I’d learned that I needed to work harder to calm my horse as soon as I realized he was uncomfortable with a jump.

  I let him canter in a half circle, then eased him to a trot. I wanted him to cool a bit before we stood on the sidelines and watched everyone else ride.

  “Great job,” I said, patting his warm neck. “You’re such a good jumper.”

  He pointed an ear back at me, seeming to hear my praise.

  We trotted around the arena once before we joined Emma, Blake, and Heather.

  Heather was the first to smile. “Nice,” she said.

  Emma and Blake weren’t smiling. They just sat on their horses’ backs, staring at me.

  “Thanks,�
�� I said. “Limitless is a really great horse.”

  “Yeah, he’s a decent school horse,” Blake said. “Let’s talk about your ride.” She turned to her friend. “Emma?”

  Emma gave me a tiny smile. “You’re definitely a great jumper. I think, though, you have a few issues with timing. I could tell you were counting strides, and I shouldn’t have been able to. If you’re going to count, at least make it invisible to us.”

  Heather and Blake nodded, and so did I. Emma was right about that. Sometimes it was obvious that I was counting strides instead of completely focusing on my horse and our ride.

  “Heather?” Blake asked.

  “It was a strong ride,” Heather said. “You kept your focus and didn’t let anything distract you.” She gave me a tiny smile and I realized she was talking about Blake and Emma. “You’ve never jumped Limitless before, and it was a good round on a new horse.”

  I couldn’t believe Heather was complimenting me—well, my ride—this much. We were friends now, but she still took any chance she could to correct mistakes in my riding.

  “You do need to pay more attention to your hands on landings, though,” Heather said. “Your hands moved around a lot when you landed, and you tugged on Limitless’s mouth sometimes.”

  I cringed, feeling bad for Limitless. I hated watching other riders jerk on their horse’s mouths and I felt bad I’d done it to him. Leaning down, I rubbed his shoulder.

  “Sorry, boy,” I murmured.

  “Okay,” Heather said, looking at Emma and Blake. “Who’s next?”

  “I’m ready,” Blake said. She urged her horse forward, and I turned to Emma.

  “What’s her horse’s name?” I asked.

  “Walker,” she said. “Her parents and trainer found him in Europe and had him shipped here.”

  Um, wow.

  Blake’s wavy black hair was loose under her helmet and it blew back behind her as she urged Walker into a trot. She took her time warming him up before letting him into a slow canter. She was nearly motionless on his back—just swaying gently with his gait. Her legs, clad in chocolate brown breeches, were light against Walker’s side. She’d protected his legs with blue leg wraps, which drew more attention to his even stride.

  I had a feeling there would be very little to critique about her ride.

  Blake and Walker headed for the first jump, and I sat back in my saddle a little as the two cleared the vertical.

  The girl was good.

  Walker, whom I guessed to be a couple of years older than Charm, had definite experience. He seemed to know down to the split second when to take off for a jump. Every landing was soft, and Blake barely moved in the saddle when his hooves touched the ground after clearing a jump.

  Blake was the opposite of what I’d expected. I’d thought she’d be forceful with her horse and willing to show off at any cost. Instead she was one of the quietest and calmest riders I’d watched in a long time.

  When they reached the stone wall, I was mesmerized. Walker gathered himself, pushed off the ground, and glided over it. His gray coat was almost the same color as the plastic stone, and his form, and Blake’s, were near perfect as they flew over the wall.

  Blake and Walker finished their ride, and she slowed him to an easy canter, then a trot. She rode him up to us and there wasn’t a hint of a smile on her face. I’d be grinning like an idiot after a ride like that.

  “Go ahead,” Blake said. She let go of Walker’s reins and let them drop against his neck. “That ride was pathetic. I messed up so many times.”

  Whhooa! What?! I stared at Blake, waiting for her to say that she was kidding. There was no way she was serious. And even if she had messed up, I never expected her to be the type of girl who’d draw attention to her own mistakes. I’d definitely misjudged her—pegging her for one of those girls who thought every ride was perfect.

  I looked at Emma, wondering if Blake’s BFF would tell her the ride had been perfect and that Blake was crazy, or if she’d tell her friend what she really thought.

  “Emma,” Blake said. “What’d you think?”

  “You’re always way too hard on yourself,” Emma said. “You know what you need to work on—sometimes you rely too much on Walker’s experience and you go on autopilot. If you’d wanted to, you could have pushed him a little to remind him that you’re in charge.”

  Blake nodded and I could tell she was really listening.

  Blake looked at Heather. “You haven’t seen me ride for a while. So what do you think?”

  Heather pushed up her helmet. “I agree with Emma, honestly. You keep knocking yourself for rides that are great. It might help if you jump a less experienced horse a few times to remind yourself how it feels.”

  Blake picked up the reins again. “That’s a good idea. I never would have thought of that.”

  The three girls looked at me since it was my turn to critique Blake. I had to say something or she’d think I was sucking up. But everything had already been said—I really hadn’t seen other mistakes in her ride.

  “I think Emma and Heather covered it all,” I said. “You’ve got a great horse who’s willing to do anything you ask, and you two definitely make a great team. I enjoyed watching you ride.”

  “Thanks,” Blake said. She patted Walker’s neck and eased him next to Emma’s horse.

  “Go ahead, Heather,” Emma said. “I’ll go last.”

  “Okay,” Heather said. Her face was tight as she trotted Cora forward. She had to be feeling pressure to ride well. Riding in front of her old friends, who were now her competition, couldn’t be easy. I took a deep breath, glad my own ride was over. I crossed my fingers that Heather would ride as well now as she did at school.

  Heather and Cora took the first vertical—leaping it gracefully—and I knew then that Heather didn’t need any luck for this ride.

  She urged her horse forward, looking confident and as if she were the only one in the arena. Cora responded well to her, and it seemed to take them only a matter of seconds before they’d cleared all ten jumps. I’d noticed only a couple of minor mistakes, and it was a ride Mr. Conner would have been proud of.

  Heather lined Cora up in front of us and patted the mare’s neck.

  “Well, you’ve certainly improved since you got to Canterwood,” Blake said. I bristled a little at the backhanded compliment. “You’re still making some of your old mistakes. Guess the YENT hasn’t trained them out of you yet.”

  Heather’s cheeks went pink. But she quickly regained her composure and tossed back her head. “And what mistakes would those be?”

  “You didn’t keep enough forward motion,” Blake said. “Cora’s canter wasn’t steady throughout the course, and for a second I thought she was going to break into a trot.”

  “She wasn’t even close to trotting,” Heather argued. “Yeah, her canter did slow once when I wanted her pace steady, but she was far away from trotting.”

  Blake smirked, shaking her head. “Heather, Heather. I thought the whole point of this was to be honest and critique each other. I listened to you, Emma, and Sasha.”

  Wow, that was, like, the first time she got my name right.

  “Because what we told you was actually true,” Heather said. “If you’d pointed out something that had really happened, I would have listened and tried to use it the next time I jumped.”

  “Heather would have listened if you’d given her good feedback,” I added.

  Heather and Blake glared at each other. Uh-oh. . . .

  “Do you have anything to add that really happened, or not?” Heather asked. “’Cause if you do, I’m listening.”

  Blake stared at her. “You know what, this is why we don’t talk anymore. Ever. You went off to Canterwood thinking it’s a better school, which it’s not, and just because you made the YENT, you think you’re the best rider who ever got on a horse.”

  Heather’s face reddened and she set her jaw.

  “Well, guess what?” Blake continued. “You’re
. Not.”

  I sat unmoving in Limitless’s saddle. This was about to get U-G-L-Y.

  “I never said I was the best rider,” Heather said. “And FYI, the YENT has nothing to do with this. You gave me criticism that wasn’t true. Like I already said, if you’d told me something I could improve on, I would have taken it. But you’re just making things up to make yourself look like a better rider. And don’t trash talk my school.”

  “Guys,” Emma interjected, “let’s not—”

  “No, Emma,” Blake said, holding up a gloved hand. “We’re having this conversation. Heather, you left our old school because you thought we weren’t good enough for you. Fiiine. Like any of us cared. Truth? We were kind of glad when you left.”

  “Excuse me?” Heather said. Her tone was rising with every word. “You were glad? We were friends when I left!”

  My eyes met Emma’s and we shared a look of mutual discomfort. How had things gone so wrong so fast?

  “No, you tried to lead Emma and me around like puppies while you got all the glory for being the stary rider,” Blake snapped. “Well, you’re gone now. You’re not the best at Chesterfield anymore.”

  Heather laughed dryly. “You think I came back over break to stage a takeover and reclaim whatever ‘star’ status you seem to think I had?”

  Blake shook her head. “No. Because you think we’re all beneath you, anyway, since you made the YENT. But like I care—now that you’re gone, Emma and I are getting all the attention and work we need to make the YENT during the next tryouts. And you won’t be there to distract us.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Who are you going to blame if you don’t make the YENT? Sad for you that Heather won’t be here.”

  Heather straightened slightly—she was probably as surprised as I was that I’d just stood up for her.

  “Sasha and I are done in the arena,” Heather said. “Enjoy. I wouldn’t want to stay and be a ‘distraction.’”

  She pulled Cora out of line and started her at a trot out of the arena. I kept my gaze off Emma and Blake and let Limitless follow Cora. Heather and I drew the horses even with each other, and I looked over at her.