“I know loads of places where you can get free stuff. Wood to build stalls and sand for your ring.”
“It is going to take more than wood and sand to get the kind of clients we need to pay the bills,” I said drearily.
“The people who really want to train with your dad won’t care about that stuff.”
“You’re wrong,” I told him.
But it turned out that Jordan was both right and wrong, annoying as it was. Mom and Dad came back from the bank without the loan that they’d hoped for. Instead they got a high interest credit card that was sure to send them further into debt. No wonder the people on the news were always going on about how our economy was in the toilet and how people didn’t know how to manage their finances.
“At least we could use it for a few things,” Dad said hopefully.
“Forget it. I’ve seen the debt you are carrying already,” Mom replied. “You don’t need anymore.”
And before Dad could do anything about it she had snatched the shiny silver card out of his hands and snipped it into pieces with the scissors. They fell like plastic snow on the kitchen table and for a moment I thought Dad was going to cry. But instead his shoulders hunched over.
“You are right,” he said. “We are done. We’ll never make a go of this place so we might as well get used to it.” He looked at me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry Emily.”
We all went to bed after a dinner of macaroni and cheese just like the old days when Mom and I had to decide between eating well or paying our rent and my stomach grumbled as I stared up at the dark ceiling and silently screamed at God or whoever was up there.
Why were we being punished? I hadn’t done anything wrong? I’d always tried to be a good and decent person and yet bad things were always happening to me. It wasn’t fair. I wanted a golden life like Jess where nothing bad could ever touch me and if it did, it didn’t matter because my family would have enough money to pay their way out of it. I wanted the endless heartache and struggle to stop. But what choice was there? You either kept going or you curled up and died and I wasn’t ready to give up yet.
And the next morning I was tipping feed into our hungry horse’s buckets when a shiny trailer bobbed down the lane.
“I think someone is coming to take Macaroni away,” I called out to my father.
He was in the barn, standing there with his hands on his hips, probably trying to figure out how we could make one or two stalls out of some scrap wood. There was a front coming. It was going to rain a lot and our horses weren’t going to like that. Cat suggested that we just stick them all in the barn together and close the doors and I told her that they would kick each other and we’d end up with nothing but a herd of injured horses.
“I knew it wouldn’t last,” Dad said sadly as he came out and stood there watching the trailer park. “That kid needs a challenge and there is nothing to challenge her here.”
“Maybe if you’d given her a lesson or two,” I said.
“Too late for that now,” Dad said. “But that’s not the Fox Run trailer. I wonder what barn she is going to now?”
But the woman who jumped out of the truck wasn’t a stranger. She was one of the women who had boarded at Fox Run and taken lessons with my father. She had two horses and more money than she knew what to do with thanks to the death of her husband who ran some fortune five hundred company.
“Hello Molly,” Dad said, walking over and sticking his hand out to shake the short woman’s hand. “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like?” she said. “I’m moving my horses in.”
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Dad tried to talk Molly out of it but the woman wouldn’t listen.
“If that little kid has the guts to follow her trainer then so do I,” she said, pointing to where Macaroni stood sleeping in a patch of sun.
I didn’t like to point out that technically she’d jumped ship and abandoned her trainer because she’d always ridden with Missy but I knew that Faith was following her dreams just like I was. Only Molly had the money to pay for the best care and training for her horses and I was pretty sure that there were a lot of trainers out there who were better than my dad. Ones with fancy farms and lots of horses and connections. We had nothing. I still didn’t see why Molly would want to come here.
“We don’t even have any stalls,” Dad said desperately.
“My two boys don’t care about things like that,” she said as she let down the ramp of her trailer. “Besides, a winter outside will toughen them up. We treat our horses far too much like babies, don’t you think?”
“That is because they are babies,” I said. “Babies who like to hurt themselves on nothing and get sick for no reason.”
“If it is good enough for the horses in Europe then it’s good enough for me,” she said. “I spent last summer training over there and even at the top farm we were at those horses romped in the fields when they came back from shows. They got muddy and messy and time off to play.”
“You trained in Europe?” I said, suddenly interested in the slightly bossy Molly Sugden.
“I did,” she said, rubbing her hands on her plaid breeches. “And I hear you’ll be going next year too. Best thing for you. You’ll come back a better rider than you left.”
“I hope so,” I said.
“Good, now where shall I put these two beasts?”
Bourbon and Bailey were two almost identical Irish Sport Horses with slightly roman noses and rich bay coats. Molly had been over to Ireland and had picked them out herself. They were sweet horses and I wouldn’t mind having them on our farm. I just wasn’t sure where we were going to put them.
“I brought my temporary panels,” she said, pointing to a stack of what looked like metal gates in the back of her giant trailer. “And I’ve got miles of electric fencing. These guys won’t touch the stuff so it’s not like they’ll go wandering off.”
Dad looked at me and I looked at him and shrugged. Molly had already thought of everything and now she was here it wasn’t exactly like we could turf her out. Besides, I already liked her a lot.
Molly held her two horses while Dad and I tried to wrangle the metal panels into some sort of pen under a tree.
“How are these things supposed to go together?” I said through gritted teeth as one of the panels got stuck and pinched my skin.
“I have no idea,” Dad said.
In the end Molly left her two horses grazing, trailing their lead ropes behind them as they munched across our grass, not seeming to care one bit that they were in a new place or that their owner had essentially just given them free rein of the property. She rescued us from the panels of death and had them up and together in no time at all. I got the feeling that Molly was going to be a handy person to have around because her small stature was deceptive. She was able to lug bales of hay out of her trailer like they weighed nothing at all.
“Swiped these from Fox Run,” she said with a wink as my dad showed her where to stack them in the barn. “Didn’t pay a whole month's board on two horses for nothing and you know there is no way I’m getting any of that money back. It’s a bit like squeezing honey from a bee’s bottom,” she told me. “You have to grab what you can and get out without being stung.”
And what Molly had grabbed was more than enough hay to last all of our horses for the rest of the month, not just her two, along with bags of grain as well.
“People who treat people badly should expect to have the same done to them,” Molly said as she pulled buckets, muck tubs and pitchforks out of her trailer, all plastered with property of Fox Run in permanent marker.
“But you kind of stole them,” I said. “And now it looks like we did too.”
“Prove it,” she said, grabbing a spray bottle from her trailer and spritzing the black ink until it ran off in black rivers. “See? Got a pen? Write the name of your farm on there and no one will be the wiser.”
“We don’t have a name yet,” I said.
“Well that will n
ever do.” Molly shook her head. “How can you expect a farm to flourish without a name? You’d better think of one and fast and when you do, you put it all over those buckets. I didn’t steal them for nothing you know.”
”I thought you said you didn't steal them,” I said.
“Fine, you caught me,” she said, holding up her hands. “What are you going to do, call the cops?”
“No,” I said, my face flushing red.
I liked Molly but she had a big, bossy personality and she kind of made me feel like I was five years old again.
She looked around. “You know, this place has potential,” she said. “It shows promise. I can see what your father sees in it.”
I looked around and saw it too and felt glad that I wasn’t the only one. I was beginning to think that my father and I were both crazy.
“So, where should I put this?” she said, hoisting her reel of electric fence up on her shoulder.
In the end we had to split up my horse’s field. It was only fair. It was the biggest one. Molly had two giant solar panels that charged the electric tape and rods that we stuck in the ground that were bright orange and supposed to stop the horses from running blindly into them.
“My guys are used to it,” she said when I voiced my concern.
Her horses may have been used to being corralled by gate panels and tape but mine weren’t and they were already curious about the horses that were grazing over in their little play pen. Arion had galloped up and down the fence line and snorted like he was some kind of ferocious stallion. I was more worried about my only team horse hurting himself than I was about Molly’s horses.
“Maybe we should run a double line of that tape,” I said. “Just to be on the safe side.”
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
“You got new horses,” Faith said the next day when her mom dropped her off to ride. “Wait a minute, they’re not new, are they?”
“No,” I said. “More defectors from Fox Run. That is Bourbon and that one is Bailey.”
I pointed to the almost identical bay horses that were grazing side by side. They had settled in with no fuss or bother, making me wish that I could import my own completely safe and sane Irish Sport Horse. They hadn’t cared that they’d been fed out of buckets or that their hay had been dumped on the ground or that they hadn’t slept in a stall. Molly said that they spent the first four years of their lives running wild over the Irish countryside.
They were grounded and happy and normal, unlike my poor off the track Thoroughbred who spent most of the night running up and down the electric fence trying to get their attention by screaming at the top of his lungs. Of course they ignored him, which only made him even more frustrated and in the end I had to go out in the dark and put him in the pen of panels with a big pile of hay before he worked himself sick with worry.
“You don’t have to be so silly about everything,” I told him as I stood there watching to make sure he wasn’t going to smash through the panels or jump over them.
He just stood there looking at the two horses longingly like they were his long lost friends and he’d just die if he couldn’t be with them. Of course after zapping his nose on the fully charged fence that wasn’t going to happen and I knew that Molly would probably say that I could turn him out with her horses because they wouldn’t care but knowing my luck my silly horse would end up kicking one of them and injuring them for life and I couldn’t take that chance. My savings wouldn’t stretch to cover other people’s vet bills.
“I told you,” Faith said, looking smug. “Ethan says that there are a bunch more people who want to come and train with your father too, they are just kind of afraid to give their notice right now.”
“Afraid?” I said. “Of Missy?”
“Well she’s sort of been on the rampage. When people leave it makes her look bad.”
“She’ll get more clients,” I said. “She wants to teach more hunters anyway. Molly rides in the jumpers so it's not like she really lost a client.”
“She’s still mad though,” Faith said. “And I’m glad. Aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
I felt bad that Missy was suffering, even though she was the one who’d put us through hell by getting us kicked out. I guess it was karma, sorting things out in the long run and she was still the one with the fancy facility and all the grooms and people to help her. We were just struggling to get by on our own.
But later that day a dump truck arrived filled with sand and clay.
“Where do you want it?” the driver said.
“Want it?” Dad replied, looking at the piece of paper attached to a clipboard that the driver had handed him. “I don’t even know what it is.”
“Footing for a ring,” the guy said. “That’s all I know.”
“But I didn’t order it. I can’t pay for this,” Dad said, handing the paper back to him.
“It’s been paid in full,” the guy said, checking the sheet. “Look all I need to know is where to dump it.”
I pointed to our front yard while Dad just stood there shaking his head. And when the truck had dumped its load, five more followed until we had mounds of footing piled up like small mountains.
“You know its Molly,” I said.
“Yes,” Dad replied. “I know, but how am I supposed to pay her back?”
“I’m sure she’ll think of something,” I said.
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Dad said with a sigh.
“Nothing like that,” I said. “Probably just lessons for life or something.”
“It's the or something part that worries me.” Dad sighed.
Later a guy came with a tractor and smoothed all the footing out. It wasn’t the fanciest ring in the world but at least now it looked like one. And the next day we had a delivery of our own tractor, complete with a drag and a bush hog. It wasn’t brand new but it would get the job done.
“This is getting too much,” Dad said. “I’m going to have to tell her to stop.”
“Dad no,” I said. “You can’t. She is trying to help and right now we need all the help we can get. You can’t just get mad and tell her to take all the stuff away because then she’ll take her horses away too and what will we have? Nothing. Do you want to have nothing?”
“I just don’t like handouts,” he grumbled.
“Well maybe we’d better start doing some real work to attract other clients then so that we can get this business up and running. Look, there is a schooling show next weekend. We could go to that. Pick up a few ribbons and some new clients along the way. What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Well are we a training farm or aren’t we because if we are, we don’t have time to sit around feeling sorry for ourselves.”
“I know,” he said.
“So we can go to the show then?”
“Yes, we can go to the show,” he said.
So now at least we had something to look forward to. Even if it was going to be embarrassing showing our faces at any show after what had happened but we’d hold our heads high and if luck was on our side, our horses would prove that they didn’t need to live at a fancy farm like Fox Run to win. We could do that anywhere. I hoped.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Having a proper ring to ride in made a huge difference. It was like my horses suddenly realized that they weren’t just here to goof off and neither was I. They all got down to business just like they should have done when the ring wasn’t a ring but a front yard. I guess some things did make a difference after all. And I even got Hashtag to go over the jumps once I’d made them the tiniest cross rails in the world. His confidence had been crushed by Jess and any little change seemed to set him back. It seemed such a shame that he’d done so well at the Halloween show, doing his demonstration and showing how great he was and now it was baby cross rails or nothing again. I wasn’t even sure if it would be worth taking him to the show but it was just a little schooling affair out of
the way. No one would see if he failed and besides, he really seemed to be better in front of a crowd.
I was letting him walk around the ring on a loose rein, trying to decide whether to take him to the show or not when Jordan pulled in but this time he wasn’t on his bike. This time he was driving a truck and pulling a trailer loaded up with wooden boards and posts.
“What are you doing now?” I yelled.
“I figured your new ring could use a fence,” he called back through the open window. “And I just found these lying by the side of the road.”
“Sure you did,” I said.
“Well do you want them or not?” he replied. “Because I can just drive away.”
“Of course I want them,” I said. “Faith doesn’t seem to know how to ride her corners without a fence to keep her in the ring. Yesterday she bulged out so far that Macaroni ran over that bush.” I pointed to the now lopsided plant.
“I told you, I'm here to work,” he said.
“Well you’d better get to work then,” I said with a wink, jumping off Hashtag.
“You know,” he said, getting out of the truck. “It’s a good job I almost work for free.”
“Almost?” I said.
“Yes,” he said looking smug. “I require food and beverages and after I’ve banged in all these posts, I’m sure I’ll need my shoulders rubbed.”
“Well I can arrange the food,” I said. “I’m not so sure about the rubbing part.”
I looked up at the house where my mother was lurking by the kitchen window, watching us. As soon as she saw that I’d noticed her, she stepped back into the shadows. But she hadn’t said anything much about Jordan being around and helping, not like his mother, who’d basically tried to keep us apart at all costs.
“What about your mom?” I asked as Jordan noticed my mother and waved before she vanished. “Isn’t she having some kind of heart attack that you are here?”
“What she doesn’t know, won’t kill her,” he said.
“Great, more secrets,” I said.
Boot Camp (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 24) Page 8
