At Top Speed (Quartz Creek Ranch)

by Amber J. Keyser

  Ella didn’t know what to say. After a moment she asked Jordan, “Would you run the barrels tomorrow?”

  “What?” asked Jordan.

  “Ride Loco Roco through the barrel pattern so I can watch. I want to see how you do it.”

  “I don’t know how I could show you anything helpful, Ella . . .”

  Her enduring humility was almost annoying. “You know tons more than I do,” said Ella. “You’ve already given me so many helpful tips. But now I want to see it in action. I want to observe you.”

  “Like I’m a science experiment?”

  “Exactly! Just imagine I’m the mad scientist and you’re the experiment. I want to watch you do your thing and take notes. Would you do that?”

  Ella realized it was unfair of her to phrase it as a favor, after Jordan had spilled her guts. Jordan was the kind of person that wanted to help everyone, to fill all the gaps, and Ella already knew Jordan would agree.

  “Yeah, I guess I can ride for you,” Jordan said.

  “Great. Tomorrow, then.” Ella stood up, already feeling better, and stretched. “Thank you, by the way.”

  Jordan gave her a funny look. “For what?”

  “For everything. For teaching me. For calming me down. For putting Eight away.”

  “I’m just doing what Mr. Bridle told me to do,” Jordan said, as if gratitude was a foreign language she didn’t understand.

  This time, Ella smiled at that. The way Jordan had helped her back there—she wasn’t doing this anymore just because Mr. Bridle told her. The barrels held the same power over her that they did over Ella.

  “Thanks again,” Ella said. And she meant it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next day, when they were done with their chores, Jordan and Ella met up at the barn. Jordan didn’t speak as she tacked up Loco Roco. She did in five minutes what usually took Ella twenty. Tacking up, riding, and putting away two or three horses every afternoon? That would make Ella pretty fast at it, too.

  Once on Loco’s back, something in Jordan’s demeanor shifted. She sat straight, but not stiff. Relaxed and poised at the same time, like she belonged there.

  “It’s all in here,” Jordan told Ella, who was watching from Jordan’s usual perch on top of the arena fence. Jordan patted her belly as she said it. “All good riding starts right here.”

  It was a mysterious way of putting it, but Ella knew what she meant. She’d felt that, too—how everything she did on her horse rotated around that center of gravity right in her abdomen.

  Jordan started with a simple warm-up, walking Loco in patterns around the arena. Half the time, Ella couldn’t even see the commands Jordan was giving—but after a while she could make out Jordan’s thighs giving a squeeze, or her heel nudging his side, or her left elbow tucking just a little further in to put more pressure on the reins.

  Jordan finished the warm-up with scientific precision. When she was done, Ella ran out to set up the barrels.

  Without preamble, Jordan kicked Loco and they leapt into a gallop. Ella felt like she was at the rodeo again as Loco’s legs flew, kicking up clouds of dust. Jordan had only been riding Loco for a few weeks, but already they seemed as close as Paul and his horse, Roy: speaking without words, listening to each other’s thoughts. Loco turned so tightly around each barrel that the angle of his body tipped nearly parallel with the ground. Jordan’s ponytail sailed behind her like a brown flag. Horse and girl moved in perfect synchronicity.

  They came to the final barrel. Jordan sat forward in the saddle, lending her momentum to her horse. Her thighs and knees and heels all worked together as Loco whipped around the barrel so fast that Jordan had to hold onto the pommel of her saddle to avoid falling off. Loco’s breath came in great gusts as he passed Ella and sprinted to the finish line.

  Ella clapped as Loco slowed to a trot and made a loop on the opposite end of the arena. Jordan walked to where Ella sat on the fence. Loco was sweating.

  “Was that helpful?” Jordan asked.

  A mixture of feelings had overcome Ella. Why couldn’t she ride like Jordan? She made it look so easy. But now, after the hours Ella had already put into it, she saw that it probably hadn’t been.

  Still—what an amazing thing to witness up close! Jordan and Loco were the real deal. And Ella was lucky.

  “Yeah,” she said. “It was incredibly helpful. Thank you, Jordan.”

  Jordan looked away. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’ve done a ton. Look, you’re spending your free time teaching me how to ride. That’s a pretty big deal.”

  “Just paying forward what Mrs. Rose did for me. Anyway, I’ve already taught you everything I know. I told you it wasn’t very much.”

  “You taught me so much already today,” Ella said. Why couldn’t Jordan give herself any credit? “Just watching you, I learned a ton.”

  “Oh.” Jordan appeared stumped by this answer. “Well . . . okay. As long as it’s helpful to you.”

  “Will you do it again?” asked Ella.

  Jordan finally looked up. “Um, sure. Why not?” She turned back to the starting line. “Loco, let’s go try that one more time. For Ella.”

  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

  Half an hour before dinner, Jordan stopped her demonstration.

  “Hey, Ell, want to tack up Eight and do a short ride for our cool-down? Even if she doesn’t get a real big workout today, I bet she’d enjoy getting out.”

  “Oh yeah,” said Ella, jumping off the fence. She went inside, tacked up Eight quickly, and mounted. She jogged out to meet Jordan at the gate leading out of the arena.

  “Shoot,” said Ella, shooting an accusing look at the gate. “Should have stayed on the ground so I could open that.”

  “Got it,” said Jordan.

  She tapped Loco Roco’s shoulder with her heel and tugged only his opposite rein toward the gate. He took a step sideways toward the fence, to avoid coming at it head-on, but Jordan was still too far away to reach the latch.

  It was like watching the trick rider and her horse. Jordan clicked, repeated her request for a side step, and Loco sidled up to the gate. She reached over, plucked the latch open, and managed to hold onto the end of the gate while Loco walked through. With a subtle motion of her heel and her rein, Jordan pulled Loco around sideways so she could get out of the way and let Ella through. Once Eight had trotted out of the arena, Jordan pushed the gate closed behind them.

  “Wow,” said Ella. “That’s a good trick.”

  “Not a trick, just closing a gate.”

  “But it looks hard!”

  Jordan smiled. “It’s not, I promise. Just use your legs the same way I’ve been showing you out in the ring.” She patted Loco on the neck. “And think about what you want to accomplish. Remember what Mr. Bridle said—your horse feels what you feel.”

  She made it sound like some kind of animal magic, but Ella didn’t think it was quite that simple.

  “Try it when we get back,” said Jordan.

  So after their short ride, Ella tried to position Eight by the gate, just so she could reach the latch. But Eight flung her head around, and kept turning side to side so Ella couldn’t reach. Ella grew irritated that Eight wouldn’t listen.

  “It just takes time,” said Jordan, climbing off Loco Roco and opening the gate by hand. “You’re already almost there.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lessons during free time continued all that week, and the next. The show bore down on Ella like a squealing steam engine.

  That Friday night, Ella took Jordan’s dishes to the sink after dinner, as usual.

  “Still at it, Jeeves?” Kim asked as Ella dumped her two piles into the sink. He poked fun at her for this every single night, but not in the poisonous way he used to. Ella liked having someone she could spar with.

  “Still at it, until the day I wake up a barrel-racing prodigy,” said Ella.

  “Let me know when you figure that magic potion out.”

/>   When they re-entered the dining room, Ma Etty was bringing out cinnamon rolls. They seemed full of meaning, or maybe it was the extra layer of frosting.

  “You all have been so focused this week,” said Ma Etty. “So we wanted to surprise you with something cool.”

  Ella perked up. What would the Bridles offer them that qualified for the word ‘cool’? Whatever it was, Paul, who had joined them for dinner, was practically bouncing in his seat.

  “Okay, tell them,” Mr. Bridle said, giving a little eye roll.

  “We’re going on a trail ride!” Paul said, obviously thrilled.

  Ella didn’t know whether to be ecstatic or worried. The last trail ride had been disastrous. She and Jordan exchanged a look.

  “What about practice?” Ella whispered.

  “It’s okay,” said Jordan. “A day off would be good for Eight. Horses need them, just like people do.”

  “All three of us are taking you,” Paul went on, managing to sling a single arm over both Madison and Fletch. He gave them a comrade’s squeeze. “We’ll stop at the lake and make a picnic out of it, maybe do some fishing?”

  “Fishing!” Drew’s hair seemed to stand up straighter. “If we catch something, can we cook it for dinner? Please?”

  Ma Etty raised both eyebrows. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Blech,” Jordan whispered to Ella. “Fish!”

  “Not a fan?”

  “Not in your lifetime. Tastes like . . . fish.”

  Ella preferred this version of Jordan—the funny, sometimes downright talkative Jordan that had started making the occasional appearance. Ella didn’t know if that Jordan had always been there, or if the two of them were rubbing off on each other. Maybe, Ella thought, it was Loco Roco’s influence.

  They feel what you feel. Could it go the other way around, too?

  She had thoughts like this all the time now, thoughts that sounded like Jordan or Mr. Bridle—or even her mom—was speaking.

  “Great,” said Paul. “Tomorrow morning, nine o’clock sharp, meet me outside the barn with horses saddled and ready.” He turned to his plate to start tearing into his cinnamon roll. Then he stopped and said, “But no risky business!”

  “Aw,” Ash said to Kim, with his lower lip protruding. “There go our nefarious business plans.”

  “But, Dallas,” groaned Kim, “what about my secret lair? I was promised a secret lair.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll build it out of the bones of our enemies if we have to.”

  “No bone lairs, either!” said Paul.

  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

  “So you’re telling me the Falcons are going to not only beat the Cowboys this year,” said Ash, turning halfway around in his saddle, “but will make it to the Super Bowl? You realize it’s been years since the Falcs even got close, right?”

  “Yeah, but we have this new guy this year.” Drew raised two fingers to his chest. “Trust me. It’s going to happen. Your beloved Cowboys are going down.”

  “The Falcons are losers.”

  Drew opened his mouth to say something, but their argument had agitated his horse. “Whatever, man,” he said, slowing down so he fell in line next to Ella, instead of Ash.

  “Wouldn’t be unheard of for the Falcons to beat the Cowboys,” said Fletch. “Those mid-list teams always make a comeback eventually.”

  Ash was about to reply, but Ella broke in. “Could we please talk about something besides football? My eardrums are melting.”

  Jordan raised her hand. “I second that motion. Dogs, maybe? Like, how cute are these three goofballs?”

  The dogs chased one another in circles in the woods, running back occasionally to make sure they hadn’t lost their master, then taking off again.

  “Actually,” said Paul, “the big surprise is coming up.” He pointed off in the direction of the distant tree line.

  “Aren’t we almost to Cougar Point?” asked Madison.

  “Cougar . . . Point?” asked Kim, his voice faltering a bit at the end. “Why is it called that?”

  Madison laughed. “Why do you think? This place used to be overrun with cougars.” Kim’s eyes widened and he wrapped one hand around the pommel of his saddle, like it would save him from a cougar attack. “But that was a hundred years ago. The sheriff put a bounty out on cougars decades ago because they were killing sheep, and the hunters went wild. Not many cougars left now.”

  “That’s sad,” said Jordan. “They’re just trying to live. It’s their role in the ecosystem to eat other animals.”

  Ella marveled that Jordan could feel so much sympathy for cat-shaped killing machines.

  “I’d put a bounty on any animal that could end me with one paw swipe.” Kim batted at the air with one hand. “Forget it.”

  Jordan pressed her lips together and didn’t speak, but Ella could practically hear the diatribe she was biting back. The other night, Jordan had found a spider crawling on her pillow and screamed. Instead of killing it, she urged it onto a paper towel and sprinted outside, where she set it down in the grass.

  “Why bother?” Ella had asked.

  “They eat bugs,” she said. “Mosquitos and stuff. Without them, the mosquitos would take over. Just trying to maintain the balance.”

  They crested a ridge and from the front Paul said, “Guess you’re right, Maddie. We’ve reached Cougar Point. Look.”

  A valley swept out below them. A lake, clear and still as a mirror, had carved out a bowl in the valley basin. Their mouths hung open as they took in the view.

  “And that is the glacial lake we missed last time,” said Paul.

  “I guess I’ll be okay fishing there,” Drew said.

  As they headed down the mountainside, Fletch told them, “Lean back! Center of gravity!” Figure Eight’s feet expertly picked a path down the steep slope. The drop-off on the other side made Ella’s heart race, but the horses seemed to know exactly what they were doing.

  Half an hour later, everyone arrived safely at the base of the hill. Paul tied the animals nearby while the kids helped Fletch and Madison unpack the food and the blankets. Then they stripped to their swimsuits and leapt in the lake.

  “Hey!” hollered Drew, just sitting down with the fishing line he’d rigged up. “Stop scaring away my fish!”

  But they got out quickly because the water was ice cold, and only Fletch seemed immune to it. Ella and Jordan dried off and pulled out their lunches, joining Madison on a blanket.

  “How’s barrel racing camp been going?” Madison asked Ella and Jordan. “You two missing your free time yet?”

  “What free time?” asked Jordan. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Pfft,” said Ella. “Not like you did anything cool with it before. You were always moping.”

  “Yeah, but now when will I get my moping in?” asked Jordan.

  Ella laughed. “I carved out a slot for you in the schedule right after dinner.”

  “Great. Now you want me to mope and brush my teeth at the same time? What do you think I am, your trick pony?”

  Madison rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. So you’re having fun, I take it. Think you’ll be ready by next week?”

  “Of course,” Ella said, folding her arms. Wow. She sounded like her dad. Probably looked like him just then, too, arms crossed over his chest as he said, “Of course.” Like you’d just asked him the most obvious question possible.

  Madison laughed. “Okay. Good. Not that I had any doubt, of course. The two of you must make a killer team.” She snorted a little. “Like Jekyll and Hyde.”

  “Hey!” Ella said. “Does that make me Hyde?”

  “I’m too tall to be Ella’s Jekyll,” said Jordan. “And Jekyll and Hyde are the same guy, right? They couldn’t exist at the same time.”

  “Well, uh, yeah,” said Madison, caught off guard. “But one was the scientist, you know . . . The other one was the monster.” She shook her head. “Okay, bad analogy.”

  “No, no.” Ella snickered. �
��That’s accurate. Jordan’s the brain, I’m the maniac.”

  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

  As Ella watched Ash, Fletch, and Madison throwing a Frisbee, and Paul showing Drew how to cast the fishing line, she had the unwelcome thought that days like this were limited.

  “Only ten more days of camp,” Ella said to Jordan, passing back the apple they were sharing. She sighed. “I don’t want to go back to Petaluma.”

  Jordan raised both eyebrows as she bit into the apple. “Really?” she said, a little food in her mouth. “I can’t wait. I’ve really missed Olly and Lola and the others.”

  “I guess I wouldn’t know,” said Ella. “No siblings.”

  “None? Not even step-siblings?”

  Ella shook her head. “Maybe my dad will remarry,” she said. She’d come to terms with this eventuality when Dad started dating again. That she might have a step-mom someday. Step-siblings. Half-siblings.

  “What about your mom?” asked Jordan.

  Ella shrugged. “Dunno. We don’t talk.”

  “Oh.”

  Ella could tell Jordan wanted to ask why, but she probably didn’t want to seem nosy.

  “We don’t really get along,” Ella said, but as soon as it came out of her mouth, she wondered if what she really meant was, She and my dad don’t get along. Ella hadn’t seen her mom in almost two years, making up reasons why she couldn’t visit. She had no idea if they’d see eye-to-eye at all anymore. During the divorce proceedings, the judge had determined both of Ella’s parents fit for custody—but with her mom moving across the country, they had left it up to Ella to decide where to spend the majority of her time.

  Of course she’d thrown her chips in with Dad. He was staying put in their old house; he understood her the way Mom couldn’t.

  Or, at least, she’d thought so.

  “I’m sorry,” Jordan said.

  Ella batted a hand at her. “Whatever. I’m not hung up on it.” But she had started thinking about Mom a lot more since she’d been at the ranch. Especially since she’d become friends with Jordan.