Each test was several hours apart, giving me time to pull myself together and let Winny refuel. Mike was busy with a couple of high-strung Thoroughbreds who'd clipped off their shoes and were now giving him trouble as he tried to pound them back on. I felt a swell of admiration for his incredible patience.
“He's able to put up with Gretchen. Why not a few naughty horses?” I grumbled.
Each test I rode improved. The judge was gracious, marking my score sheets with notes of encouragement and how Winny and I looked like a good pair. Still, my scores were in the fiftieth percentile, not something I was particularly thrilled about.
As we packed up to go home, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of disappointment that crushed me like a ton of bricks. I figured I'd be Danika's prodigy the way she was for Ms. Diederich. My ridiculous dreams of bringing home the blue ribbon went unfulfilled. Bringing home any ribbon would have been nice, a fact which Gretchen seemed to rub in as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her three blue ribbons, laying triumphantly on her lap.
At that moment, I covenanted with myself to work harder than I'd done all winter to claim the coveted first place the next time Gretchen and I competed. Ms. Diederich had already signed Winny and me up for multiple events during the next several months. Gretchen wouldn’t be gracing us with her presence since she’d already committed to a short-term student exchange program to Europe through school. If Winny and I got our qualifying scores—which Ms. Diederich made perfectly clear was an expectation of hers since Winny was experienced enough at the lower levels that all I’d have to do is not fall off—then we’d face Gretchen at Gallant Meadows, the next show she’d entered. Gallant Meadows was looming and I was going to beat Gretchen or die trying.
Chapter Nine
We arrived at Gallant Meadows the day before my eighteenth birthday. Through some talent of my own but mostly Winny’s natural skill, coupled with sheer luck and terror at disappointing Ms. Diederich and Danika again, Winny and I had managed to get our qualifying scores for the recognized event. Gretchen had returned from her tour of Europe a month before Gallant Meadows and picked up training where she’d left off. Either she didn’t know or didn’t want to acknowledge Danika had been having me keep Isis in top condition, but a word about it was never uttered. I didn’t care so much. If nothing else, I’d gained more riding experience and could admire Isis’ abilities more than ever.
Gallant Meadows was one of the few traditional events left in the United States and the second day was dubbed 'Endurance Day' because it consisted of a run on the roads and a fast-paced steeplechase along with a grueling cross-country course. Even then, it wasn't nearly as tough as the courses the military used to test their horses, which is where combined training got its start. It was going to be a battle for first place and while I was a novice in experience, my drive and determination were as hearty as anyone else’s.
There was an electricity in the air that I hadn't felt at the Clear Pond schooling show or the other local events we’d gone to weekend after weekend. I couldn't spot a single sassy Shetland pony or retired barrel racer. The grounds were crawling with vigorously trained, polished eventers, horses and people.
Along with competing at the preliminary level, I had the full responsibility for seeing to the needs of the three horses traveling from Stoney Brooke Stables which stemmed from my role as working student.
“I don't know, Nadia. That's a lot of work,” my mother warned. She nearly dragged me to the doctor after the schooling show in the spring. I'd come home late that evening and slept clear until one o'clock the next afternoon. I had to keep reassuring her that it was just the jitters that had worn me out.
After unloading all the horses and getting them settled in what looked more like circus tents than portable stalls, I meandered over to the show office to pick up my information packet.
Peeking at the other competitor's faces, I figured I must have been on the younger end of the competitor spectrum. I swallowed the lump in my throat and moved up in line.
“Nadia Wells.”
“Nadia Wells,” the pimple-faced boy repeated. He shuffled through a stack of manila envelopes. “Preliminary?”
“Yep.”
“All of your information should be inside, including test start times and your number for the duration of the show.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, already absorbed by the contents of my packet. Without watching where I was walking, I bumped right into Gretchen, scattering my papers across the grassy lot.
Gretchen looked at me with steely cold eyes and left without so much as putting her foot on a paper to keep it from flying away. We had struck some kind of unspoken accord. We didn't talk much and just tried to stay out of each other's way.
As I scrambled to pick up the straggling sheets of paper, Mike trotted over and lent me a hand. “Here, let me help.”
“Thanks. I'm such a klutz.”
Mike laughed warmly. “Don't worry about it. We'll get it all gathered up.”
I stole a glance at his beautiful blue and green eyes. He returned the favor but it made me squirm, looking a little too long at me.
Giving me a hand up, I noticed Chuck leaning against a tree, watching me with odd fascination. I waved to him and he tipped his cowboy hat in reply.
“Who's that?” Mike asked. I dropped his rough hand and I brushed the patch of dirt off my knee.
“It’s Chuck, the guy we got Winny from.”
“Oh, right,” Mike said. “I’ve seen him at Danika’s place a few times but never introduced myself.”
A young woman with golden hair parted into two waist-length braids raced over to us as I was stuffing the last of my information back into my folder.
“Mike? Farrier?” she said, unable to make complete sentences through pants of breath.
“Yeah, is something wrong?”
“My horse is acting lame. I think one of nails of his shoes is irritating him.” She looked as white as the clouds that breezed by overhead.
“I'll come take a look. What stall's he in?”
“Seventy-two.” The girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. Understandably so. To make it all the way here just to have a horse go lame would be awful.
“I'll meet you there after I grab my tools.”
The blond raced back from the direction she came, slapping me with her braids and kicking dirt in her wake.
“Excuse me, Nadia,” Mike grinned with dashing a wink. “Sounds pretty serious.”
I waved him away. “Go on, save the day.” I looked back towards where Chuck had been standing but he was absent.
Isis and Winny were giddy with excitement, snorting the air and whinnying to other horses as they passed. They were almost as embarrassing as freshman girls around senior boys. Dodger, true to his nature, chewed his hay and seemed even more calm at shows than home, if that were even possible. His faded summer coat was now an unattractive muddy brown with blond highlights on his nose and under his tail. Though he was not the most stunning of horses, his gentle nature made him more valuable than most.
I checked the horses' water buckets and hay, then poured a small pile of grain into their feed bucket to try to distract them. They didn't seem to notice the sweet feed and continued to shriek at their competition.
Danika, stylish as ever in her khaki slacks and white tunic shirt, had Gretchen in tow. “Let's go walk the cross-country course before an afternoon ride. Let the horses settle down a bit.” Winny neighed at a big Palomino trotting by. Danika rephrased herself. “Let the mares settle down.”
Beyond the sandy arenas and aluminum bleachers lay acres and acres of lumpy green hills, bordered by a dense forest.
“Alright,” Danika sighed with a course map in her hand. “Let's start from the very beginning.” We marched over to a three-sided corral, just big enough for one horse to stand in. “Nadia, this is the box I told you about, where you'll begin the cross-country phase. Your horse must enter the box and not leave until the timer tells you
that you may begin.”
I nodded, feeling my heart beating a faster tempo. I didn’t care for the pressure of sitting in that makeshift stall, awaiting my fate.
With each obstacle, Danika pointed out the possible hang-ups our horses would have. Some were designed to trick a horse into a false sense of security before throwing a tight curve or blind jump, while others were meant to outright scare them. The course was full of coops, round tops, graves, drops, benches and water hazards.
After a steep ditch into the forest and a lengthy walk along a groomed trail, a swiftly moving stream crossed the path. Gretchen boasted of Isis' confidence over water but I had no idea how Winny would react. All of the months of training and weekends at schooling shows and she had never splashed her feet through water.
“Don't worry about it, my dear,” Danika waved her hand, dismissing the whole thing. I had the feeling that she was using some sort of mind game she picked up from Dr. Swenson to reassure me. “If you aren't concerned, your horse will trust you and go through bravely. Besides, I‘m sure Winny‘s faced water before.”
It took two hours to hike the loop, passing the twenty-eight jumps planted on the course. My feet ached and my stomach growled. Danika sent Gretchen and me away, warning us to be prepared for our four o'clock lesson. She unwrapped a granola bar and waved Mr. Johnson over to walk through the novice version.
At the stalls, I sat on my fold-out camping chair, my bare feet resting on the cooler, fighting conflicting feelings of jittery anxiety and fatigue that threatened to make me doze off.
“Well, you don't look nervous at all,” Mike noted as he pulled up a chair next to me.
I laughed. “Wish I could say it was true. I'm just too pooped right now to know the difference.”
“Well, maybe that's a good thing.”
I offered him a bottled water, which he guzzled without taking a breath. He crunched the plastic in his hands and tossed it into a nearby recycling bin. We passed the time, chatting politely about superficial things. While listening to him talk about his favorite elementary teacher, I finally admitted to myself that I liked Mike. A lot. But there seemed to be some sort of stumbling block between us that kept either one of us from saying what we were really thinking.
Four o’clock came too fast. Mike helped me muck out the stalls and let Winny stretch her legs to get a nibble of green grass before tacking up. The hottest part of the day had passed and the weather was now gorgeous, cooled by a temperate breeze. I squeezed into my riding tights and stuffed my hair into my helmet back at the trailer. Finding no mounting block, Mike gave me a leg up and hoisted me nearly over Winny, like he was tossing a feather in the air. We both laughed while I inched myself to the middle of the saddle.
There was something about sitting on her back that helped ease my nerves. Since my embarrassing debut at Clear Pond, I'd obsessively reflected on why I'd done so poorly, especially when I knew I was capable of doing so much better. We had gone to several more schooling shows in the area and I watched dozens of Olympics and World Cups on DVD, studying how professional athletes reacted to numerous situations. Meticulously, I'd practiced until every movement was perfect, every dressage test was embedded in my memory and every jump was flawless.
Gretchen came around the corner where she'd gone to the trailer for her helmet. Springing onto Isis, she passed us without a word, trotting determinedly toward the area. Winny, without asking, picked up a jog to follow. I halted her, slightly annoyed at her independence. She wagged her head, irritated that I had forbidden her from following. I gave Gretchen a minute head start before walking after her.
In the soft footing of the arena, Winny stretched her legs and fell easily into a rhythmic canter. I gave her long, loose reins before collecting her and getting to work. Ms. Diederich had appeared beside Danika. She kept her hands tucked behind her back and her stern face under the shade of a straw hat adorned with a long, sleek feather.
Danika shouted instructions to us over a megaphone, making her directions precise and clear, even while at the far end. “Gretchen, your left hand is creeping up. Keep it down.” Gretchen threw a stabbing glare at Danika, who ignored her.
Ms. Diederich grabbed the megaphone and repeated Danika, “Put your left hand down, Gretchen.”
Without a protest, Gretchen immediately obeyed. The sting of Ms. Diederich's rebuke was too hard to ignore.
I began taking Winny over small, gymnastic jumps that were no higher than a foot and a half. Feeling her oats, she leapt an additional two feet over the cross-rails.
“Calm down Winny. Geesh,” I muttered over her shoulder. She snubbed me and still bounded over every fence like she was showing off for the swarm of horses. I felt a flash of hot anger burn my cheeks.
My grip tightened on the reins, which Winny countered with a heavy yank on the bit. The force pulled me out of the saddle and pounded my gut on her bony withers. I took it personally. Anger boiled over and I sat up straight. My muscles were solid as stone and I could feel my agitation flowing into Winny.
“Enough!” With one sharp smack of the whip to Winny's left flank, she began whirling and kicking like a bucking bronco. I grabbed the saddle for support and wrapped my long legs around her midsection. She ran right for other horses, who bolted out of her way as she continued to thrash.
All I could think of was how Winny was completely overreacting. One smack of the crop shouldn't have been enough to send her into this kind of frenzy. Almost humorously, I thought to myself how well I was doing. Maybe I should try out for the rodeo, I mused. Winny was calming again under me for which I was grateful. My legs were beginning to feel as useless if they were made of gelatin.
Thinking I'd won the battle and feeling a small increase of pride, Winny kicked up her heels in a last, triumphant effort to rid me from her back. I flew from the saddle, feeling utterly helpless.
When do I hit the ground? I wondered as I weightlessly somersaulted. The sky was blue and clear above me, the morning clouds all blown away by the breeze. Gravity tugged on my body and suddenly I felt like a ton of bricks. Careening back towards the ground, I flipped around just in time to land on my back in the coarse sand. Everything went black.
Chapter Ten
There was a familiar sense of déjà vu as I regained consciousness. Danika hovered over me, looking concerned. Mr. Diederich's face was as emotionless and austere as ever, her lips pursed and eyes squinted. She bent over me, assessing the situation. Mike's blue eyes hovered close, his warm hand behind my neck.
“Nadia?” he whispered. “You've just had a fall. We're going to take you to the hospital.”
My face blushed a deep rosy red. There were faces in the crowd that I didn't recognize, each of them murmuring to one another what had just happened. How long had I been out?
I pulled myself to my feet quickly and took two steps back, away from the swarm of people. “I'm fine,” I lied, my head swirling and body cut and bruised. “Really. I'm okay.” I avoided looking anyone in the eyes, sure they could sense my deception.
“You should really get checked out,” Mike tempted me with his hand now on my shoulder. I managed to look down before I winced. My shoulder throbbed where the brunt of my weight had landed. “It was just a, uh…well, it was a pretty good fall.”
“I'm fine,” I forcefully smiled. “I'm just going to go sit down for a bit.” I turned and hurried towards the barn doing my darnedest to conceal my limp.
Emotions started churning and bubbling in my gut, thinking about my disobedient horse. Rage. Disbelief. Embarrassment. I looked around the park, seeing dozens of other people schooling their horses on the vast property without any trouble.
“Where's Winny?” I turned and asked Mike who trailed behind.
“She ran to Isis and stayed with her, so Gretchen's taken her back to her stall.”
“Huh.” I almost laughed, thinking of Gretchen working for me. I wondered what she'd look like with dirty hands and wisps of hay sticking out of her hair.
Winny gave me an apologetic stare as I passed her stall. I returned it with a scowl, mad enough to send her to the glue factory right then and there. Gretchen had taken off her tack and had given her a good brushing.
Swallowing my pride, I peeked in Isis' stall where Gretchen, her back to me, hummed softly as she vigorously stroked Isis' back with a finishing brush. I cleared my throat and said, “Thanks for taking care of Winny.”
Startled, she gasped and turned around. “Oh. No problem.” I couldn't read her expression well enough to know if she was gloating or truly sympathetic.
“I'm going to rest a minute,” I couldn't look Mike in the face. I turned my back to him and rummaged through the cooler for a freezer pack.
“Okay.” He hesitated. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Grunting my acknowledgment, he stood motionless behind me until he finally strode off. I found a semi-frozen ice pack and pulled it from the cooler. Unsnapping my helmet, I propped up my feet, situated the ice on my shoulder and rested my head on Winny's stall, wearily drifting off to sleep.
“She’s quite a handful, isn’t she, young lady?”
I peeled my eyelids open, unsure of how long I'd been asleep. The sun was tilted farther down in the sky, but hadn't yet reached the horizon. A spectacular display of fiery colors was just beginning. I bitterly refused to appreciate it. I was still sour. And very sore.
Chuck leaned against the support rail of the stalls.
“Yeah, she is.”
I cordially shook his hand but wished he'd go away. The throbbing in my head had been reduced from a rapid hammering to a light thud that coursed with each beat of my heart.
“Is something bothering you, Nadia?”
I lifted my eyebrow, wondering how he'd know. I didn't see him at the warm up ring. Just then, a whispering gallery of college girls slunk by.
Headed for the Win (Nadia and Winny Book 1) Page 6
