Contents
Chapter 1: Night Terror
Chapter 2: Remember, Remember the Fifth of November
Chapter 3: Truth and Dire Consequences
Chapter 4: Shertock Hones Meets Meat Loaf Mush
Chapter 5: A Stable Full of Secrets
Chapter 6: Painful Truths
Chapter 7: Messages Received
Chapter 8: Apologies and Rivalries
Chapter 9: Sneaky, Sneaky!
Chapter 10: Parents and Other Complications
Chapter 11: A Bittersweet Birthday
Chapter 12: Paparazzi, Logs, and Other Hurdles
Chapter 13: A Royal Dilemma
Chapter 14: The House Cup and Horseshoe Luck
Chapter 15: Elaine the Interloper
Chapter 16: Friendship on the Rocks
Chapter 17: No Good-byes
Chapter 18: The Curse of the Missing Horseshoe
Chapter 19: It Only Gets Worse from Here
Chapter 20: “It Was Just a Joke”
Chapter 21: The Ultimate Loss
In the stable, Kit wrapped her arms around TK.
The big black gelding’s neck curved gracefully over her shoulder, his chin bumping against her back. Kit laughed as he raised and lowered his head over and over so that he could repeatedly chin-bump her, whuffling with contentment. His hot horse breath in contrast with the air made her realize she was freezing. Too excited to sleep after the excitement of the bonfire, she had sneaked out of bed and slipped on her mackintosh with just her jammies underneath. Her muck boots, while usually warm enough, weren’t doing the job so well at the moment. She’d neglected to put on socks.
“Okay, big guy, I think the lovefest is over,” she said. “I can’t feel my toes.”
Those were the last calm words she said. The next sounds out of her mouth were a series of incoherent wails as something right outside the stall made a sharp crashing noise, like a door slapping open in the wind. A ceiling timber fell, the heavy wood clattering against the wall, and Kit thought, The roof is collapsing!
TK squealed and jerked away from her, his nostrils flared. He pawed at the straw, his ears nervously swiveling back and forth, his eyes wide and darting. Kit’s first instinct was to calm him, but for once she listened to her father’s voice in her head: “A spooked horse is not a rational animal.” So she shuffled backward and reached around to unlatch the stall door without taking her eyes off him.
The door wouldn’t open. A timber had fallen right through the wooden railings, effectively locking it.
“Kit!”
The lights flickered on, and Kit’s father, Rudy, appeared. He had pulled on a pair of work jeans and boots, but his coat wasn’t entirely zipped up. He pulled at the timber stuck in the stall door, freeing it from the railings and hefting it to one side. “Out!” he commanded, sliding the stall door open.
Kit ran out as TK reared, terrified as the sounds of more falling timbers and the other horses’ growing panic echoed around them.
“Go outside!” Rudy told her. “I’ll take care of this!”
“No!” Kit shouted. “I’m not leaving you!” She almost screamed when hands grabbed her arms.
It was Will Palmerston. He must have heard the horses and come running at top speed from nearby Juniper Cottage. He worked as a stable hand, and his natural way with horses was quite amazing. He took one look at the wreckage in the corridor and said, “It’s not safe in here — you need to get out!”
“No, I need to help Dad and TK!”
Will leaned down, staring directly into her eyes. “Kit. Go.”
Kit resisted. Timbers, old equipment, and bales of hay were still dropping from the ceiling, and she wasn’t about to leave her loved ones in danger.
“Hey,” Will said, his voice softer but no less commanding. “Trust me.”
Will’s steady blue eyes met her own, and in that moment, Kit trusted him. And she wasn’t sure she could be of any help inside the barn, either. She let go of his arms and ran outside.
She stood in the courtyard, covering her face and trying to figure out what she should do. Just as she decided to ignore all good sense and barrel back into the chaos, her roommate, Anya Patel, and several other students from nearby houses came running up, all of them holding robes and coats closed against the frigid England night. “Are you all right?” Anya panted, her words barely audible amid the mayhem of horses whinnying and people shouting.
“No! TK is freaking out, and my dad and Will are in there!”
As if conjured up by the mention of his name, Will strode out of the stable, a cell phone to his ear. “We need an ambulance,” he said into it, and then paused, listening. “To Covington. Hurry.” That’s when his gaze met Kit’s.
She tried to run past him, yelling, “Dad!” but Will grabbed her and held on, even when she struggled. “Dad!” she yelled again, thoughts of her mother flashing through her brain. She’s been gone a whole year, and it’s been so horrible without her. And now Dad . . . no, not Dad, too . . . please, please no . . .
Kit paced nervously, trying to forget the last time she’d spent a whole night in a hospital. It had been when her mom . . . well . . . when that had happened.
Her logical brain knew that hospitals are designed to help people. They’re places where doctors, nurses, and staff have to be able to do their jobs quickly and efficiently for the sake of their patients. But Kit’s logical brain wasn’t in charge at the moment. Her emotions had battered down her logic walls in tsunami waves, reducing her thoughts to a jumble of I hate this place! Where’s my dad? I hate this place! Is he okay? I hate this place! He has to be okay, he has to, he has to, and I hate this big, stupid, cold, sterile place!
Will was the only person with her. Sally Warrington, one of Covington’s English teachers, had driven them to the town hospital, but she had stayed downstairs in the main lobby to intercept any students or staff who came to show support for Kit and her father. Sally had also sent Will to wait with Kit for news of her father’s condition. Kit shuddered to think that even her teacher realized that Will seemed to be a strong, comforting presence for her. He sat on one of the numerous plastic chairs in the emergency waiting room, his padded blue coat piled on his lap, his handsome face blank of expression.
“Why would somebody stuff all the Guys in the ceiling?” Kit muttered as she paced. “What kind of stupid idea was that?”
Leaning forward in his chair, his chin in his hands, Will recited:
“Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot.”
Kit looked at him. “What?”
Will seemed to come out of a trance. “Oh, um — it’s a famous poem about the whole Guy Fawkes thing and the attempt to kill the king. I learned it when I was a kid. It just came to mind because, you know . . . the Guys falling out of the loft and all.”
Kit nodded. The loud crashing noise that had started this whole disaster had been the trapdoor in the stable ceiling, the one that led to the hayloft, falling open. Juniper Cottage hadn’t really won the Covington Guy Fawkes competition after all. Someone had stolen all the Guys from all the other school houses and hidden them up in the hayloft so that Juniper Cottage could enjoy an easy win. Too bad whoever-it-was hadn’t secured the latch properly.
Kit paced some more while Will sat glumly. “I need to know what’s going on!” she finally griped at him, as if he could magically make the doctor appear but was choosing not to just to torture her.
Will grabbed a bag on the table next to him. “Do you want some crisps?”
Kit sighed and turned away.
“No?” Will gav
e a weak chuckle. “Sorry. That’s ridiculous. So not what you need. They’re prawn flavored.”
“Eww, that’s not a flavor — that’s a punishment.” Kit’s response to the little joke slipped out automatically, sarcasm being a major Bridges family trait. What she really wanted to do was scream and maybe throw one of the ugly plastic chairs across the room. Yanking those cheap blinds off the window would vent some frustration, too, but she did none of those things. She just hugged herself tighter and turned farther away from Will.
He tried again for humor, shaking the crisps bag once and then setting it back on the table. “Well, at least you know where they are in case I say something idiotic again.” The joke fell flat, so he added sincerely, “I just wish I could help.”
Kit sat down next to him. “I’m so worried about Dad. What if he can’t walk?”
“Come on, everything’s going to be all right.”
“I hope so. But his foot looked so messed up.”
“Your dad’s a really tough guy.” Will stated it as a fact, a fact in which he clearly believed.
Kit appreciated that. She could always count on Will to tell her the truth, and right now, the truth meant everything. She usually hated being told that everything was going to be all right. Why did people always say that? Don’t worry — everything is going to be all right. She’d heard it over and over when her mom had . . . well. And things hadn’t been all right, not for a very long time. And now they weren’t all right all over again!
Yet here was Will, assuring her that, yes, things would turn out fine, that her dad was stronger than any little foot injury, and despite her own bleak outlook, she believed him. Dad really is strong, she thought. In fact, when this is all over, I bet he’ll go straight to the horse that stepped on his foot and step on him back. A ridiculous idea — Rudy would never hurt a horse — but the idea of such a silly retribution lifted her spirits. “I just wish my mom was here,” she admitted.
“Yeah.”
Kit glanced at her watch. “You know, you don’t have to stick around. Really. Miss Warrington said she’d drive you back.”
“I want to stay, at least until we know something.”
Kit smiled. She was so glad that Will wanted to stay with her. She wasn’t quite sure what was happening with their odd relationship. It felt like it was growing into something more than friendship, but exactly what, she couldn’t yet say. She had hopes, though.
For some reason, that reminded her that her dad hadn’t been the only victim when the Guys had fallen out of the hayloft. “Are the horses okay?”
Will nodded. “Yeah, they’re fine. A little bit spooked, and Thunder got a little nick on his fetlock, but they’re fine.”
“I can’t believe someone would stuff all the Guys in the ceiling,” Kit said for probably the nineteenth time. “I mean, who would —?”
“Hey, Kit?” It was the voice of Rudy Bridges as he appeared through the doors in a wheelchair pushed by a nurse.
Kit leaped to her feet. “Dad!” She threw her arms around him and squeezed with all her might.
“What are you two doing here?” Rudy said around the mass of distraught daughter clinging to his neck. “It’s late. You should both be in bed.”
Kit kept hugging him. “Miss Warrington brought us over while you were in the ambulance.” The pressure of held-back tears strained her voice. “What did they say?”
“I’d tell you, Kit, but I can’t breathe.” Rudy gave her a fatherly pat on the back before gently peeling her off.
“Sorry,” Kit said, standing straight again. “I’m just worried.” She continued to grip his hands, afraid of losing physical contact.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “I just have to have one more X-ray to see if I need surgery.”
At that, Will said, “Oh, no. Mr. Bridges, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, son,” Rudy said. “Why don’t you two head home? It’s going to be a long night for me, so there’s no sense in it being a long night for you, too.”
Kit looked at him as if he’d gone nuts, or as her British friends put it, gone mad. “I’m not going anywhere!”
“I think she means that, sir,” said Will.
“Yeah,” Rudy sighed in defeat.
Kit smiled, glad that her father was accepting the facts. A two-thousand-pound Clydesdale horse couldn’t have pulled her away from him now.
“Well, then,” Rudy said to Will, “why don’t you head home with Miss Sally?” He politely informed his nurse, “My daughter’s going to come with us. There’s really no point in arguing with her.”
The nurse nodded with a knowing smile and started pushing Rudy’s wheelchair to the door that led to Radiology. Kit fetched her coat and turned to Will. “Thank you for being so helpful.”
Even as she hurried after her dad, Kit noticed that a strange look had come over Will’s face.
When her father was wheeled into the X-ray room, Kit automatically followed.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse told her, “but you can’t go in.” When Kit gave her a blank stare, the nurse jerked her thumb at the sign on the door. “X-rays? You do know they’re a form of radiation, right?”
“Oh! Right. Yeah. Sorry.” Kit was directed to another waiting room, where she sat down in yet another hard plastic chair. She let out a long, slow breath.
Now that she knew her dad was going to be okay, exhaustion hit her like a sledgehammer. No, I can’t get sleepy yet, she thought, and bought a cup of really terrible coffee from a vending machine around the corner. After letting it cool, she downed it in three gulps and tossed the cup into the trash.
All the things that were happening to her — they weren’t anything like what she’d expected when she’d first come to The Covington Academy for the Equestrian Arts mere months ago. Her move from Montana to England had happened so fast! She’d barely had time to adjust to all the changes before classes had started. She had made new friends, true, but she still missed her old ones, especially Charlie.
What is he doing right now? she wondered, and pulled out her cell phone to check the time. It was 1:04 in the morning, which meant it was 6:04 in the evening in Montana. He’s eating dinner with his family, she thought. Let me guess . . . meat loaf with ketchup, corn on the cob, and a side dish made with some kind of beans. Oh, and if Charlie’s lucky, cupcakes for dessert. Strawberry frosting, of course.
Thinking about dinner “back home” made her think of her mother. Mom, if you were still alive, you, me, and Dad would still be back in our house together, happy. I could still talk to you and go places with you and — she laughed softly — and even help you with the housework. And I wouldn’t always feel like my heart was in pieces. And I wouldn’t have to wait here in this awful hospital all alone. I wouldn’t even be in this hospital.
Then again, if she hadn’t come to England, she wouldn’t have met TK.
He was just a horse, a silly, irritating, beautiful, stubborn, dancing horse. Kit still didn’t understand the connection she had with TK, but it was there, and she knew that TK could feel it, too. Somehow they belonged together. Why? She didn’t know. But her growing love for the black gelding had been enough to help her overcome her fear of riding, a fear born when she’d fallen off her childhood horse, Freckles. Her foot had caught in the stirrup, and she had been dragged. I was never going to ride a horse again, she thought, but TK changed all that. I rode him! Just a little, but I did it! And she was determined to do more.
But now this awful accident had happened, and TK, along with all the other horses, had been badly scared. TK was an especially skittish horse with unusually delicate sensibilities. It would take time to earn his trust again. Kit vowed to do whatever she could to help him. We’re a team, she thought, yawning again. TK will be all right. And Dad’s foot will heal up just fine, and we’ll all be okay.
Just one question remained: Who put all the Guys in the hayloft?
Will drove back to Covington with Sally. He quietly slipped into t
he dorm room he shared with Navarro Andrada to find Nav in bed and asleep, though he had thoughtfully left Will’s lamp on. This was good because Will stored most of his clothes and other belongings all over the floor in random heaps. He probably would have tripped on his first step into the room. But it also meant that Nav was wearing a black satin sleep mask to block the lamplight, which made him look like a snoozing bandit.
Will smiled at his refined roomie’s habits and climbed into bed, clothes, coat, and all. He kicked off his boots from there and snuggled into his pillow. It would have been nice to fall asleep at that point. It was only one thirty in the morning, so there was plenty of time to rest up for the coming day. But for a long time all he could do was lie there, eyes open, battling with his guilt.
Will woke to Nav shaking his shoulders. “Get up!” Nav hissed. “Red alert! Ducasse just saw Lady Covington heading this way, and I’m sure you know why!”
Will jumped out of bed like a spark from a fire. He pulled off his coat and clothes and began to yank on his school uniform as Nav dressed, too, all the while giving a recitation of all the things they should not have done lately — like steal all the Guy Fawkes dummies and hide them in the hayloft. “It may have started as a funny way to win the competition, but it’s gone way too far now,” Nav concluded. “Who knows what Lady C will do to us?”
“Worrying about a punishment is always worse than the actual punishment,” Will assured him.
Nav shot him a sidelong frown. “You would know.”
There came a knock at the door, and the boys of Juniper Cottage spilled into the room, all of them looking like they were about to face a firing squad. “She’s coming!” Josh announced as if they didn’t know already.
“Lady C?” Will checked. “Okay, just calm down —”
“But th-th-th-th . . .” Josh stammered for a moment, unable to get a word out, he was so frantic. “There’s no time!” he finally blurted out. “How much is a flight to Vegas? Wait, what am I talking about? Nav, dude!” He pointed at Nav. “Your family jet, right? It makes sense! It’s easier!”
Competing for the Cup Page 1
