But Hashtag looked so happy that I almost felt bad about pushing him back into the world of jumpers and the little voice in the back of my mind said that maybe I’d just found his new career and that meant that he’d need a new home and I didn’t want either of those things to happen. But I couldn’t force him to do something he didn’t want to do and I wouldn’t. If Hashtag wanted to be a hunter then I’d let him.
“Well boy,” I told Arion as I slipped my saddle up onto his gray back. “It’s just you and me now. Think you can do it?”
He looked at me with his soft brown eyes and I knew that while I wasn’t paying attention, he’d slipped into the number one spot. He was now my go to horse and he was about to prove it, again.
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
The jumper class had a course that was more complicated than it looked. While the fences weren’t that high, the person who had put it together obviously hadn’t measured out their striding quite right because the distances were either really long, really short or nonexistent.
From fences two to three you could do a really long three or a really short four strides. It was really three and a half strides and that just didn’t make sense. From the fifth to the sixth fence there was an awkward four and a half stride line. Then from the second to last to the last fence, you had to gallop all the way from one end of the ring to the other.
While I wasn’t sure about the messed up distances, I knew that Arion would be really good at the galloping part. He was an ex-racehorse after all.
“You’re just going to have to let him eye ball it,” Dad said after we’d hopped over the warm up fence a couple of times. “Just look for your spot and take it, even if it’s a long one. Those fences aren’t that high and you don’t need to bury him at the bottom to get over them.”
“Right.” I nodded.
It was what I’d already decided to do anyway but it didn’t hurt that my trainer was telling me the same thing.
“Do you think Mom will cook a turkey this year?” I asked him as we stood by the ring and watched the first rider go.
“What, in the oven?” he said.
“Well where else would you cook it?” I laughed.
“I don’t think her cooking skills are that good,” he replied.
“It’s not that complicated,” I said. “I could help.”
Dad looked up at me sitting on Arion’s back and for a moment got a misty look on his face.
“You know,” he said. “I’m proud of the way you have handled this whole thing with your mother.”
“Well it didn’t hurt that Missy made it easy to hate her in the end,” I said. “She took back my team horse and kicked us out of our home. What kind of person does that?”
“One who has been hurt,” Dad said, shaking his head. “I never should have treated her that way. I got what I deserved.”
“Well I didn’t,” I said.
“I know,” Dad replied sadly. “And I am sorry you got caught in the crossfire.”
“I know.” I sighed. “Let’s forget it. I need to concentrate.”
I couldn't think about big family dramas when I was about to go in the ring.
We watched the first rider try to tackle the strange distances and get it wrong. They had refusals and were eliminated. So did the second rider. And the third.
The people who were putting on the show were over by the judge’s stand looking nervous. They knew that they had got it wrong and it wasn’t like they could go in and start adjusting the fences now. We were all stuck with the course they had created, no matter how messed up it was.
The next girl that went in on a chestnut horse was the first to make it around but she had three rails down. Invigorated by her success, people started to make it around the course without refusals if they either let their horse go really slow or super-fast.
“You know which one we are going to do, right?” I whispered to Arion as we trotted into the ring. “Go as fast as you can.”
He tossed his head and his gray mane danced in the warm breeze. It didn’t really matter anyway. It was just a schooling show. But I did want him to win. I wanted him to win more than anything.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
I tapped my helmet to the judges and then closed my legs around Arion’s sides. We cantered briskly up and over the first fence, a teal blue and white vertical, then on to the second, a yellow and white oxer. We really galloped to the third and got there in three strides, popping over the fence. Arion threw in a small buck because he was so excited and I patted his neck and turned to the fourth jump.
We flowed this way and that over the course like it was a river and we were the water, finding our way as best we could. We had a couple of close calls. It wasn’t like the course was a piece of cake for us either. Arion rapped a couple of the rails with his hooves but they didn’t fall. We galloped to the last fence, a plain white vertical standing there in the sun and I knew that we would go clean.
We were two strides out. I’d seen our distance. I knew where our take off spot was. Now we were one stride away. We had this. Then a car backfired. It sounded like a firework or a gunshot but I saw the car out of the corner of my eye and the cloud of black smoke that belched out of its exhaust pipe. Arion saw it too and heard the loud noise. He faltered for a second and even though I encouraged him on as best as I could, we lost our take off spot, got in too deep and had the top rail down.
“That was too bad,” Dad said, shaking his head as we came out of the ring.
“But he jumped it,” I said, patting my horse and beaming. “He didn’t refuse or freak out and bolt. He listened to me.”
I leaned over and wrapped my arms around Arion’s neck, hugging him and telling him that he was a good boy and that it didn’t matter because I knew that he had done his very best. And in the end only one person went clean and we were the only four fault round so we stood there in the ring and accepted our red ribbon, the third of the day.
“I guess red is our color,” I said with a smile as we walked back to the trailer.
You couldn’t win them all, even at a schooling show and sometimes things happened that were out of your control and you just had to roll with the punches. And I was getting used to that.
“Besides,” I added. “Red is festive. It sort of puts me in the Christmas spirit.”
“Can we at least get Thanksgiving out of the way before you start going on about Christmas?” Dad said with a groan. “I know what you are like about that holiday and saying that you can get a little obsessed is putting it mildly.”
“I’d just love it if Christmas was perfect for once,” I said with a sigh. “Don’t you think maybe we could make it perfect this year?”
“I don’t know,” Dad replied. “Can we?”
“Christmas is always perfect,” Faith chimed in as soon as she heard the word Christmas. “I already know what I want and I’ve been good all year.”
“Have you really?” I asked her, raising an eyebrow as I jumped to the ground.
“Well maybe not all year but I’ve been good for most of the year and that counts, doesn’t it?” she asked, looking worried.
“I think as long as you’ve tried your best then it is okay,” I told her.
As we packed up to go home I thought about whether I’d really been good all year long. Had I tried my best like Faith had? I wasn’t exactly sure.
CHAPTER FORTY
We returned to our little run down farm tired and happy. Molly had cleaned up in her classes and Bailey and Bourbon had a handful of ribbons to show for it. Faith won both her pony classes and I had my seconds, which I didn’t even mind because I was thinking about hanging them on a tiny Christmas tree in my bedroom and red would look much better than blue anyway.
The horses we had left behind were standing in their field, waiting for us. They nickered to the horses in the trailers and Bluebird replied, probably telling them that yes we were home. And it was funny but the old place did already feel like home. In some ways it f
elt more like home than Fox Run ever had because it was ours and no one could take it away from us or kick us out into the street. My worst nightmare had come true and yet we had survived. And here we were to prove it, coming back from a show just like the old days.
“It was a good day,” I told my father as we unloaded the horses. “But we didn’t get any new clients.”
“Yes we did,” he said with a grin. “I handed out business cards to almost everyone there and three people already signed up for lessons and two of them want to come and see the place for boarding.”
“Lessons and boarding,” I said, looking around. “We don’t even have any lesson horses or stalls.”
“We will,” he said with a knowing smile. “We will.”
I didn’t like to ask where he was going to get the money for those things because I didn’t want to ruin such a good day and he was in a happy mood so that was all that mattered.
“And where did you get business cards from anyway?” I said as he handed me Bluebird’s lead rope.
“You don’t always know everything,” Dad said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a card.
He handed it to me and I stood there as the sun set, looking at the white card with the black silhouette of a horse jumping a huge fence. Second Chance Farm. That sounded about right. And there was my father’s name, printed out in bold letters and beneath it was my name.
“I’m on here,” I said, looking at him curiously.
“Well you work here too, don’t you?” he said.
“And you named it.” I looked back down at the card. “You named the farm.” For a moment I felt a little hurt that he hadn’t asked me what we should name our farm but it didn’t matter because I couldn’t think of a more perfect name anyway. “I love it,” I added.
“I knew you would,” he said.
And we put our horses in their respective fields and they all dropped and rolled to get the itches out of their coats after a long day at the show. All except Bluebird who stood by his bucket because he knew that food came first and rolling came later.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
After the show we got a lot of people calling to come and check out our small farm. Dad fielded the calls and tried to put people off for a few weeks because he said he knew someone that was ripping out the inside of their barn to turn it into a workshop, which was an utter tragedy and should have been outlawed but meant that they were getting rid of their stall fronts and that maybe we might just be able to make them work in our barn.
I kept schooling Arion while giving the other horses time off because I knew that he was my best hope for the show next month but he still had his green moments. I knew that even though he was coming along really well, he was nowhere near as seasoned or experienced as Bluebird or Socks, who I missed terribly but refused to think about because it hurt too much. Instead I concentrated on the upcoming holiday and the turkey, which we were somehow supposed to figure out how to cook.
“I think you are supposed to take the guts out,” I told Cat who was pulling the wrapping off the giant bird.
It was Thanksgiving morning and we were standing there in our rundown kitchen, trying to figure out how to use the oven.
“Guts?” she said, looking at me kind of horrified.
We were both still in our pajamas as Dad had offered to feed the horses breakfast if we put the turkey in the oven. I think he got the better deal.
“Yes the bag of gross guts that they put inside it,” I said.
“Why on earth would they do that?” she said.
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I think some people put it in their stuffing or something.”
“Gross,” she said. “And there is no way I’m sticking my hand in there.”
“Well I’m not either,” I said.
In the end my mother was the one who came to the rescue, sticking her hand elbow deep into the turkey and fishing around inside it.
“See?” she said, pulling her arm out and brandishing the bag like a trophy. “Piece of cake.”
But Cat and I had already fled the room, gagging.
In the end the turkey came out quite well, all golden and brown and juicy, even if the oven did quit working halfway through and my dad had to kick it with his boot a couple of times to get it going again. And we had vegetables and an apple pie that was bought from the store because none of us knew how to make one.
We sat around the rickety old table in the kitchen, looking at our feast. It wasn’t much and we had mismatched plates and tarnished silverware but at least we had food, for which we were grateful.
“I think we should all say what we are thankful for,” Dad said as we sat there looking at the food.
Cat rolled her eyes, which was more like the old Cat I remembered but I knew even she had to be grateful that they weren’t stuck up in Wisconsin in the snow with a mad man anymore.
“I’ll go first,” Dad said. “I am thankful that we have a roof over our heads.”
We all nodded in agreement.
“I’m thankful for that also,” Mom said. “And for the kindness of people that I haven’t always been the nicest to.”
She looked at Dad. He looked at her and then at his food. They didn’t kiss or touch or anything. I didn’t really think they were getting back together but I was starting to think that maybe my mother really did want them to.
“I’m thankful for Phoenix,” Cat said. “Because he is really fun to play with.”
I looked at Dad who seemed surprised. I’d told him that Cat was starting to show some interest in the horses and why wouldn’t she? After all, she was surrounded by them all day long.
“I’m thankful that Bluebird is okay,” I said. “In fact that all the horses are. That they are healthy and happy and so are we.”
We raised our classes of cranberry punch and chinked them together and then we ate. We ate until we were so stuffed that we couldn’t even move.
“Who wants to volunteer to do the dishes?” Dad said.
No one did so we all just left them piled up in the sink and passed out on the couch for the afternoon, for which I was very grateful because I hadn’t realized how exhausted I really was until I stopped doing things.
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
The next morning I was out in the ring trying to move the jumps into a gymnastic exercise for Arion when Jordan came roaring down the drive on his bike. My stomach did a sort of flop when I realized it was him and then my cheeks flushed red because I didn’t want my stomach to do that for boys, only horses. I busied myself with the jump poles and pretended that I hadn’t seen him until he came over to the fence and whistled.
“I’m not a dog,” I told him as I went over to the fence.
“You came though, didn’t you?” he said.
He had a point.
“Did you have a good Thanksgiving?” I asked him.
“My mom tried to cook the turkey in the microwave and it exploded,” he said. “We ended up ordering pizza.”
“Why didn’t you call?” I said. “You could have come here. We had a turkey and everything. It was delicious.”
“I don’t think my mom would have liked that very much,” he said, looking at the ground.
“I thought you didn’t care what she thinks,” I said.
“I don’t,” he replied. “But it’s complicated.”
“Oh,” I said.
We stood there awkwardly for a few minutes. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say but if Taylor didn’t want him to come over and he wanted to obey her wishes then why was he even here?
“Is that what you came to tell me then?” I said. “That you can’t come over anymore? Because you could have just texted.”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t say that I couldn’t come over. I just said that it was complicated. But your dad said that you might be getting some stalls. I thought I’d offer to help him install them.”
“Well we don’t have them yet,” I said.
“I know, jus
t offering my services,” he said.
“Do they come at a price?” I asked him. “Because we are not exactly flush with cash right now.”
“I know,” he said. “Sometimes people just want to help out of the goodness of their heart you know.”
“Really?” I said. “Because everyone always seems to have an ulterior motive in the end.”
“You are so jaded.” He shook his head. “Can’t you just believe that people are good for once?”
“Maybe,” I said with a sly smile.
I was leaning on one side of the fence and he was on the other and I was just thinking that maybe I should kiss him and get it over with when a truck and trailer pulled down our driveway.
“Are you expecting somebody?” Jordan said.
“Not that I know of,” I told him. “Not yet anyway.”
But as I looked down the drive, shielding my eyes from the blinding sun, I saw that the truck and trailer wasn’t a new person bringing their horse to board with us. It was the Fox Run trailer. But what was it doing here?
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
My heart was racing as a million awful scenarios flew through my mind. Missy must be coming to take another of our horses away. Perhaps she had talked Faith’s parents into changing their minds and Macaroni was going back to Fox Run. Or she’d decided that she wanted Chantilly and the foal back there just because she knew it would hurt me.
“I won’t let them take any of your horses away,” Jordan said as though he had read my mind. “They’ll have to get through me first.”
“Thanks,” I said, climbing over the fence. “But Missy wouldn’t really do that, would she?”
“I’ve heard rumors,” he said. “Things aren’t going well over there since you left.”
“What rumors? What is going on?”
“It’s probably best you don’t know,” Jordan said.
Boot Camp (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 24) Page 10
