And We Danced

by Toni Mari

  I glanced up at Windsong. His face was tense and alert, but he also was chewing hay. He watched the two horses closely. Every time one of them moved a little, he stopped chewing and poised, ready for action. When they grabbed another bite of hay, he did too. I was happy and, frankly, a bit surprised that he was behaving this well.

  Kate returned trailed by Brianna’s and Hailey’s parents. She inspected the horses, adjusting a strap here and there, tightening the girths. The mothers helped the girls put their hair up and straighten up their show clothes. Kate insisted riders look formal for every show, and the girls wore their sharp black show jackets over snowy white breeches. They had beautiful stock pins in the ties at their necks and they wore matching earrings. Velvet, formal black riding helmets rested over their netted hair buns. There wasn’t a stray hair to be found on them or their tightly braided horses. Finally, everything was to Kate’s satisfaction, and their fathers helped the girls onto their horses.

  We paraded together to the outdoor warm-up arena, leaving Windsong on the trailer. As soon as we rounded the side of the trailer, I jumped at the shrill, frantic scream that pierced the air. It was followed by loud pounding. Our whole trailer was rocking.

  I was all for pretending I didn’t hear a thing and kept on walking.

  But Kate stopped. “He’s going to hurt himself, if he keeps that up,” she worried.

  I rolled my eyes. It was too much to hope for a quiet uneventful show with Windsong. He was such a drama king. “Should I go get him?” I asked reluctantly.

  “No, it would be too distracting, worrying about him acting up and possibly getting loose,” Kate said immediately.

  Even though I was thinking the same thing, it still hurt a little that she had no confidence in my ability to handle him. Why was I even at this show?

  “Let’s just go, he’ll settle down.” And I started to walk.

  Kate grabbed my arm. “You go back and stay with him. Feed him some treats or something. Calm him down.”

  Unbelievable. The girls and their parents had continued to the warm-up ring. This pain-in-the-ass horse was really getting on my nerves. “Fine.” I spun around and stalked back to the trailer.

  Windsong stopped pawing the trailer wall when he saw me and whinnied frantically.

  “Shut up, idiot.” I walked right past him and plopped down on the running board.

  Windsong nickered softly and stretched his neck way out, trying his hardest to reach me. I turned my shoulder. “Dumbass. Why can’t you just stand there and wait until we take you off?”

  He nickered again and nodded his head up and down. He pawed with his front hoof and then stretched out toward me again.

  I looked over my shoulder at him.

  He nickered and nodded his head again.

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed. He was so silly and needy. I sighed, stood up, and climbed in the tack room of the trailer to find my treats. I nearly landed on my ass when Windsong whinnied and threw himself against the trailer, rocking the whole thing.

  “I am right here, dumbass.” I grabbed the treats and jumped out of the trailer. I handed him a few and he took them anxiously. I climbed up onto the running board so I could be eye level with Windsong. I stood next to his window, using one hand to hold the handle on the side of the trailer and the other to stroke his neck. “I am right here. We weren’t leaving you. You have got to be a little more manly, not such a crybaby.”

  After a minute, I slid down onto my butt and leaned on the trailer. It was still pretty cold, but the trailer blocked the wind and the sun felt really nice. I closed my eyes and let myself relax and drift toward sleep.

  Another trailer pulled in, doors opened and a trailer ramp was dropped. I didn’t bother to open my eyes. A horse was unloaded and there were voices. One voice in particular made my eyes spring open. Shit!

  “Not like that, idiot! He likes his hay net exactly as high as his chest. Why don’t you listen to me?” Melinda’s nasally voice rung out.

  The shiny silver trailer was parked about fifty feet away from ours. It had a beautiful rainbow arcing over a prancing horse, the logo for Rainbow Ridge. And there in all her spoiled glory was Melinda Kratz. She wasn’t actually touching her horse, but she was telling everyone who was what to do. I leapt up, dashed to the tack room and jumped through the door. My first thought was to hide, don’t let her see me. But she would recognize Windsong’s head and know that I was here with him. When I disappeared into the tack room, Windsong, ever helpful, let out a noisy whinny. I smacked myself in the head. I grabbed the first thing my hand touched, which happened to be the manure fork, and nonchalantly stepped out of the trailer.

  Sure enough, Melinda was sauntering over with a nasty grin on her face. “Hello, Jane,” she purred. “I am surprised to see you here. Are you in my class?” She asked as if the class was hers to share or not.

  “I am if you are doing the Junior Rider Test,” I answered with more confidence than I felt. All last year I saw Melinda and her horse ride this same test and win more often than not. The chances of me scoring higher than her today were slim to none. Her horse would have to dump her or leap out of the ring, eliminating them, for me to place higher than her today given I was riding the devil horse.

  “Oh, good. I always like a bit of competition. It gets so boring being the only one who rides in these upper-level classes. Plus, it’s more of an accomplishment when I beat someone.” She grinned, smirking over her shoulder, and traipsed back to her trailer where her groom was holding her horse.

  She didn’t give me a chance to respond. I got it. This was my first show on Windsong. I was here to get some experience; the scores weren’t important today. But did she have to rub it in that she was going to beat me? I glanced at Windsong and scowled. She was the main reason I wanted a different horse because just once I wanted to beat her at a show. Just once I wanted to feel sweet victory and let her wallow in failure. I plopped back down. Not going to happen today, maybe never with this horse either.

  The girls came back to the trailer in a noisy pair, chattering and laughing. Their parents followed behind and my parents were with them.

  “Hello, sweetie.” My mom gave me a quick hug.

  My dad squeezed my shoulder. “We’re here. Let the games begin.” He pecked my cheek.

  “Did you bring me a chest protector and shin guards? I think I’m going to need them,” I mumbled.

  “Introduce Windsong to your dad, sweetie,” Mom directed. “He seems to be behaving nicely.”

  “For now, when everyone is right here. Wait until we have to go in the ring away from you all.” I pulled my dad closer and Windsong stretched his neck out and twisted his head to the side trying to reach him. “Dad, meet my doom, the devil horse, Windsong,” I said with a flourish.

  Dad lifted his hand to touch Windsong’s velvety nose. Windsong gave him a lick with a slimy tongue. Dad grinned. “I like him. He has good taste.” Dad pretended to wipe his hand on me.

  “Okay, it’s time to switch the horses. Jane, after we unload Windsong, I’ll hold him. You help the girls put their horses on the trailer. Once they are secure, we’ll tack up Windsong.”

  I didn’t let it show, but my whole body turned to jelly. This was it—I was going to attempt a test with this horse at a show when I couldn’t even do it at home. This was nuts. Insane. I racked my brain trying to think of an argument to skip it and head home that Kate would listen to. I got my period just now. I twisted my ankle jumping out of the trailer. Windsong smashed my hand with his hard head. My mom was sick and we had to take her to the hospital. I have amnesia and I don’t remember the test. Ahhh, she wouldn’t believe any of them.

  As my mom checked my hair and clothes, Melinda rode by on her horse heading to the warm-up. “Good luck, Jane. I’m worried about you on that beast. Don’t break a leg,” she called.

  My mom hissed, “Don’t move,” around the hair pins in her mouth. “She’s trying to shake you up. Ignore her.”

  Good
advice. The problem was I worried about me on that beast too.

  Kate stepped closer and held my two shoulders, Windsong’s reins in one hand. Looking me in the eye, she said, “We are here for the mileage. This is a test run. I want you to do the movements as best you can. The goal is to see how he acts at a show. Just get through it. We aren’t even trying to get a score, just finish. Melinda doesn’t matter today.” She gave me a little squeeze and repeated, “Today.” She smiled. “You will beat the pants off of her when we go to the qualifiers.”

  I nodded. I heard the words but didn’t have the faith. I tried to control my trembling. I took a few, deep cleansing breaths. “Right. Let’s just go.”

  Chapter 15

  “Awww. How cute. Like a pony ride,” Melinda sneered from on top of her horse.

  I was on Windsong, but Kate was reluctant to unclip the lead rope she still had attached to his bridle. The warm-up ring was small and full of horses zooming in different directions at all different speeds. I hadn’t practiced riding Windsong with other horses in the ring. I had no idea what he would do when they were all so close.

  “Now or never, I suppose,” Kate said. She gave me a confident nod and unclipped the lead. She opened the gate and tugged Windsong in.

  I nearly couldn’t breathe. My hands shook. Melinda’s snide comment hadn’t even penetrated the icy fog enveloping my brain. Windsong walked calmly into the ring. His head was up and swung back and forth as he looked at all the other horses. I forced a deep breath past my tightly pressed lips. Okay, here goes.

  I gathered the reins, found a clear path to start my trot, and gave him a squeeze with my legs. He picked up the trot smoothly. In fact, it seemed he liked having all those horses close by, gently reaching his nose out and attempting to touch them as they sped around us. I didn’t let him and he didn’t try really hard, but I could tell he felt comfortable with the crowd. I smiled. Big baby. I patted his neck. “Good boy, you crazy thing.”

  I made sure I went past the spot on the fence where Kate stood as often as possible. Each time I was close by, she called out an instruction or piece of advice. I focused on the warm-up, keeping Windsong quiet and trying to give him confidence, as I concentrated on completing each of Kate’s instructions. I jumped in the saddle when I heard Melinda right next to me.

  “That’s Windsong, isn’t it? I can’t believe you can ride him.”

  Neither could I, but I wasn’t going to let Melinda know I agreed with her.

  “Is that Bellvadere? He looks so much older. Is he doing okay?” I asked with exaggerated mock concern.

  Melinda’s smarmy look morphed into anger. “Prepare to be annihilated,” she hissed through her teeth and yanked her horse away from me.

  I already knew that was going to happen. I frowned, pressing my lips together, trying not to let the smile emerge. I had just scored a point against Melinda. I rubbed Windsong’s neck. If I had been on Paddy, I would be upset right now, knowing that I could ride really well and try really hard and she would still beat me. I would have been feeling depressed and frustrated. Today Kate, my mom, everyone was expecting me to lose. I felt the pressure lift from my shoulders; he was going to act like an idiot and I was going to lose no matter what I did. I was here to lose, easy peasy. I smiled and started posting again, happy with my acceptance of failure. In the back of my head, a niggling idea that none of this made sense pecked at my conscience. Losing couldn’t really be okay, acceptable, could it?

  Kate clipped the lead onto Windsong’s bridle again and we walked over to the show ring. The indoor riding arena was big enough that there was plenty of room around the outside of the dressage ring. Short, white plank fencing about a foot high marked the boundaries of a rectangular area twenty meters across and sixty meters long. All dressage arenas worldwide were required to be the exact same size so that riders could perform their tests precisely. In the middle of the short side on the opposite end from where the judge sat was an opening in the boards where we’d enter on the centerline and approach the judge for a salute before our test began. There was a section marked off inside the building where the spectators could watch the performances. We stood just outside the entrance to the building where we could easily see the ring while waiting for our turn.

  A girl trotted a short, muscular gray horse around the outside of the show arena. As she passed the spectator area, a tall man wearing riding breeches nodded to her and gave her a thumbs-up. Must be her coach. A bell chimed signaling the pair to enter the arena. I watched the rider and actually relaxed for a moment. Kate held Windsong’s lead and he stood quietly, bumping his nose into her shoulder and looking around.

  This girl was a decent rider, but her horse was uninspired. He chugged along pleasantly, doing his job, but he was not exciting to watch. He reminded me of Paddy. Maybe that was how it looked when I rode Paddy. The pair lengthened stride across the diagonal of the arena. The horse’s hooves barely left the ground. They rounded the corner and turned down the centerline to finish in front of the judge with a final halt and salute. There was desultory applause, someone shouted—almost certainly her mom—and the two turned and walked out of the arena.

  The girl’s face was grim, and I was pretty sure I knew how she felt. When she reached the edge of the arena, the tall man stopped her, praising her efforts. He turned and enthusiastically patted the horse’s neck, making a loud, clapping noise.

  Windsong startled, threw up his head and back pedaled in his usual way. Melinda was behind us waiting for her turn in the ring. She wrenched Bellvadere violently to the side to avoid being broadsided by Windsong’s rump. Kate still held the lead and ran to keep up with us. I wasn’t expecting the sudden movement and lurched forward, grabbing the front of the saddle to hold on. We finally stopped moving when Windsong came up against a fence. I felt him tuck his butt under as he stopped.

  “Holy crap! You okay?” Kate asked putting her hand on my thigh.

  I waited for air to refill my lungs before I answered. “No! What happened?”

  “He was watching that rider and her coach. I think the loud slapping scared him. Maybe he thought the guy was beating the horse or something.” Kate rubbed Windsong’s neck and he lowered his head and nuzzled her shoulder.

  It was my turn in the ring, so we didn’t have time to speculate.

  “I don’t want to go in there. Let’s scratch.”

  “Calm down. We need to do this. You need to do this.” Kate led Windsong back up to the indoor.

  She released me and I trotted Windsong around the perimeter of the arena. When I came around the end again, I passed Kate, with my mom and dad, on the rail of the spectator area. Ironically enough, Kate nodded at me and gave me a thumbs-up. It was a shame that wasn’t a magic sign that would make Windsong perform a test like the little gray put in. Today, I wouldn’t mind an uneventful performance.

  Chapter 16

  I shook my shoulders and rolled my head around, trying to release some of the tension in my body. I was glad there were solid walls around me because Windsong was pouring on the power and we were flying. At least I wouldn’t be careening around an open field if he didn’t listen to me.

  The tinkling of the judge’s bell zinged through my body and I felt icy cold as my muscles weakened. I stopped breathing for a second and fell down into the saddle with a plop. I had to turn down the centerline and begin my test, but I couldn’t think or plan the movement. I gave a sharp tug on the reins and pulled Windsong’s head to the left. He bounced in place and spun into the ring, butt skidding to the right. Shit! Just get to the halt and salute. I ignored my numb arms and stared sightlessly at the judge.

  Windsong stopped but nodded his head up and down signaling his discomfort. I saluted shakily with my right hand down to my side. I made myself take a deep breath and remember what came next. We trotted forward and turned left, jerkily lengthening the trot across the diagonal line. As we moved along, I could think more about riding and less about where we were. After two minutes of
trot work, we began the canter movements. My nerves had calmed and I was just riding. Although our movements weren’t precise, I started to enjoy them. Windsong’s energy, while relentless, carried me through many of the movements and I didn’t have time to fuss.

  Cantering down the long side, I concentrated on preparing for the next movement. A trailer door slammed startling Windsong, and me—except I didn’t leap straight up in the air three feet like he did. My stomach flew up into my throat and slammed back down to my toes as I snatched back on the reins to hold on. Windsong landed four hooves bouncing on the ground. I jerked the reins again so that he wouldn’t take the chance and run, but that made him rear. I was not going to let myself be eliminated by falling off! I threw myself onto his neck and twined my fingers in his mane. I pushed my feet down on the stirrups to keep from sliding out of the saddle. “Easy, boy,” I whispered. “Windsong, easy, big boy.” He landed and trotted sideways, but let me ease him into the walk as I popped back up in the saddle. That’s when I realized I was on the wrong side of the fence. Shit!

  “Why don’t you re-enter the arena and pick up from where you left off?” the judge kindly called to me. “I’ll keep scoring you for educational purposes, but your score won’t count.”

  I nodded and trotted back into the arena. I started the canter again but couldn’t get Windsong together. I barely did the right movements in the right places because he was jumpy and oversensitive. I was jumpy and oversensitive. Forget our flying lead changes; I might have gotten half of them, I wasn’t even sure. Instead of skipping lightly across the diagonal, we jerked and bounced. During our last trot lengthening, Windsong broke into a gallop and I snatched him back. He half-reared again but dropped into the trot. Finally, finally, we turned down the centerline to our final halt.