“Much obliged, Dr. Calvert,” Winny graciously thanked him. I laughed, wondering where she was picking up her lingo.
A pair of doves scattered as we walked under the canopy of ancient cottonwoods. The flowing sunlight was shattered by the flapping leaves, making an orchestra of finger snapping noises. In the enormous open field ahead, the cross-country phase was hectic.
Danika and Ms. Diederich had hailed a golf cart and were waiting for us near the warm up ring. Danika played with the scarf tied around her neck while she discussed the competition anxiously warming up over low verticals. Chuck kept a watchful gaze on Gretchen and Isis as they entered the throng of other competitors, vying for their turn at a fence.
“Ah, Nadia, my darling,” said Danika, turning around to greet us. She picked up a small bucket and slopped a wet sponge across my neck and chest. “I'm glad to see you got her calmed down.”
Ms. Diederich inspected my tack and took an opportunity to shine Winny's boots.
“I have some excellent news for you, my dear.”
“What is it?”
“You're in second place after the dressage phase. You must have really impressed Madame Rose with your performance yesterday.”
Winny squealed and danced in the saddle. “I can't believe it!” she shouted, arms raised victoriously in the air. A few other coaches looked at us, surely annoyed that such a green horse and rider were out-competing their students.
“Who's in first then?”
“Gretchen,” Danika said candidly. “She scored a twenty-five on her test while you received a twenty-seven. It's very close and is astounding, especially at your first real event.”
“That is close,” Winny repeated with a grin.
“Best not to get too confident just yet,” Danika reminded us. “This cross-country course is known for dethroning many champions of dressage. You remember the hazards on the course. There are several that will most likely make Winny take a second look. Just be prepared and keep your seat centered over her so you don't tip off if she does run out on a jump.”
No one knew that we had the advantage of having both seen the course and neither of us was about to admit it. I just chalked it up to a bit of luck.
“Go ahead and keep her warm but take it slow. You're going to really need to reserve her strength.”
We merged with the other horse and rider teams and cantered in lazy circles around the warm up area that had been flagged off. I felt a twinge of weakness in my muscles, either for fear or anticipation of what lie ahead. I tried to keep my mind off of it by studying the other athletes. There was some stiff competition but this contest was really between Gretchen and me.
On our third wide circle, I caught a familiar scent. Chuck. He had one foot up on the lowest rung of the fence and I could have sworn I glimpsed that subtle twinkle in his eye.
I beelined for him, much to the confusion of Winny. “What are you doing?” she hissed, a bit agitated. Ignoring her, I continued my brisk pace to Chuck.
“Well, hello there,” he questioningly greeted Winny.
Winny stared at him, speechless.
Trying to be friendly, Chuck mentioned, “Winny’s been lookin' pretty good since your tumble.”
All of a sudden it clicked. “You!” she cried at Chuck. “The storyteller!”
“What story?” he asked, face perplexed.
“The one about the, what are they called? The Connemaras!”
“Oh, right. The one my granddad told me. How did ya like that story? Quite the thriller, I'd say.”
Winny wasn't angry but stumbled over her words as she tried to confront him. “Thriller? I don't know about that. I just want to know just how long you plan on keeping us this way.”
Chuck chuckled uneasily and said, “I’m not sure I follow you.”
“Don't know what I'm talking about? Sure you don't? You know plenty well what's going on here. You made my horse and me switch places!”
He cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond to such a bizarre accusation. “I’m not quite sure I know what you mean, but that story was just that—a story. It’s meant to remind horsemen to look at things from their horses’ point of view. I don’t reckon there was a man who actually became a horse.”
Unable to effectively refute, Winny twisted me in a tight circle with her spurs and we cantered off. If Chuck didn’t cause it, what did?
“Wells, Nadia!” the show steward from the dressage ring called out in her trademark voice. The annoyance of it was magnified by the megaphone pressed to her mouth. “You're in the hole!”
I glanced over at the three-sided start box where Isis and Gretchen were taking off at a full gallop. I regretted not wishing Isis luck, not that she needed it from me. Of course, her reciprocating it might actually have benefited me.
Winny guided me over a petite oxer—which to me looked like a tangle of poles between two jump standards—a couple more times before we walked near Danika for her last words of wisdom.
“You've got your timer set? Each second over is a 0.4 point penalty.”
Winny lifted her wrist with the large-faced watch to prove she had while Danika rubbed me down once more with the sponge.
“Good. Now take a deep breath, Nadia. You're ready.”
Her words were short and sweet but somehow deeply comforting. She led us to the start where a dappled, leggy Thoroughbred gelding chomped at the bit and fidgeted. His rider paid him no attention, appearing to be in deep meditation.
“Let me go. Come on! Let's go!” the Thoroughbred begged to be let loose. I didn't know whether to laugh or be apprehensive about his fearlessness.
“Three, two, one. Have a nice ride,” the timer bid the team. Before he could finish his farewell, the two were already well on their way to the first obstacle, a huge, inviting roll top on the side of the grassy slope.
“Ms. Wells,” the timer called as he smacked a tough wad of pink bubble gum. “Please enter the start gate within four minutes.”
I couldn't bring myself to wait for the inevitable start to the greatest challenge of my young life, confined for four minutes in a tiny box. I circled around and breathed deeply. Winny did the same on my back. Her long legs tensed on my sides and her hands trembled in contact with my bit.
“Thirty seconds, Ms. Wells.”
Kristi and Sidney joined Danika and Ms. Diederich, ready to cheer me on. I could see Chuck by the finish, watching for Gretchen to come in. Winny lead me away from them and leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Whatever happens, happens. It's been a thrill.”
“Same here,” I nickered softly.
I quietly stepped into the start box and quivered, anxiously awaiting the countdown.
“Three, two, one. Have a nice ride,” the timer bid us.
With a deep breath, I spun around and Winny spurred me into a gallop, heading straight on to the first of twenty-eight obstacles between us and a triumphant dash across the finish.
Chapter Twenty
The ground tore up easily under my hooves. Winny settled into the two-point position, perfectly balanced over me as I propelled forward into a gallop.
“Easy now, Nadia. Pace yourself,” Winny coached. I tried to slow myself but my legs wouldn't listen. The challenge of the course was beckoning me to meet it.
Three strides from the roll top, I collected my frame and slowed ever so slightly before boldly leaping. While soaring over the fence, I might as well have taken flight. My feet left the ground and I was airborne long enough to feel weightless, even with my heavy equine body. Surely, whoever had conceived of Pegasus thought of him while on the back of a jumping horse.
Landing on the other side, I flexed my fetlocks and cushioned my body while Winny kept her reins firm but gentle. I wished I could thank her for having such a light contact with the reins, making my bit less intrusive. Even the slightest tug was noticeable. A hard yank would have been agony. Then again, who would know better than Winny?
“Whoo-hoo!” Winny screamed at the t
op of her lungs. She obviously enjoyed the sensation of riding as much as I was loving galloping. Behind us, we could hear the cheer of our little group and with a kick of my heels, we raced off to number two.
The terrain near the start was sloped towards a distant lake. Geese honked noisily as they descended from the air and skidded to a halt on the water but I did my best to ignore them. Sensing dozens of things—the scent of a the dirt trail previous horses had carved, a crow cackling from a maple tree, the flash light from a photographer—made it tremendously difficult to concentrate.
Coming up to the second jump, I shied at the judge sitting in a camping chair, beneath a wide-brimmed hat that could have easily been mistaken for a flying saucer.
“Whoa, girl,” Nadia sat back in the saddle. She scanned our surroundings and located the UFO-sized cap. “Just a hat. Just a judge.” She cocked her head to the side and chortled slightly, “That probably looks really weird to you.”
I still hadn't gotten used the muted tones that I saw the world through. Horses could see color but it was like wearing a thick pair of orange-tinted sunglasses. Some hues, blues and greens, were still vibrant. I could spot a puddle of water or a tuft of green grass a mile away.
We pushed on ahead and bravely sailed over a stone wall that easily reached the height of my elbows. Taking a sharp right, we headed to the next several fences, winding in and out of the sparse trees before leading into the woods.
Winny began panting on my back, nearly as heavily as I was. I snorted, thinking of my friends at school who claimed riding was relaxing and about as strenuous as golf.
Maybe riding a carousel, I thought sarcastically. This is totally different.
Up a steep hill that already was nearly bald from the other horses ripping into it to gain traction, the stairs were built directly into the dirt. I spotted the judge waiting off to the side with clipboard in hand, ready to mark our achievement at the combination. A fresh burst of adrenalin coursed through my veins as we approached. Winny was practically atop my shoulders as I powered up the hill. Launching myself with all of my pent-up energy, we sailed up the first step, landed and without another stride, leapt over the second step at the summit.
Winny quickly adjusted her weight to the back of the saddle while we skidded down the bank on the other side. I looked back to see the judge check off his sheet. Eight down, twenty left to go. And only eight more before showing off in front of Mike.
Back out in the open, Winny urged me to pick up the pace. “We’re on schedule but let’s give ourselves a buffer,” she shouted into the wind. I extended myself further, watching the ground blur beneath me.
A two-tiered wooden oxer was situated conspicuously in the field. There was no guile in the jump, just a straightforward confidence builder, for which I was grateful. Though I had walked the course with Danika and Gretchen only days earlier, my memory of the course was foggy at best.
Near number ten, a patch of bushes on either side tunneled me directly into the coop. In front, a landscaper had lovingly and painstakingly planted dozens of fresh flowers: marigolds, baby's breath, pansies and lavender spelled 'Gallant Meadows.' Some of the letters were indistinguishable, being trampled by horses who took off a tad too late to miss the foliage.
Not wanting to be the one to destroy the masterpiece, I threw myself into the air far before I should have.
Winny screamed and threw her hands and reins up my neck to let me stretch. I snapped my legs tight underneath my chest and silently prayed I wasn't going to land strung halfway over.
Barely reaching the other side, I clipped the back of my hoof on the peak of the coop. Winny stumbled and crashed into my neck with her shoulder. Losing her reins and the stirrups, she hugged my throat with her arms and legs.
“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop!”
I dropped my haunches and skidded to a halt. Trying to raise my head and help Winny shimmy back into the saddle, I realized I was only making it more difficult. Winny dangled precariously before she coordinated herself enough to monkey back to her spot.
Getting herself situated, she poked me with an accusing finger, warning, “Be more careful. The last thing we need is an elimination from a fall.” Sheepishly, I whickered at her.
“Let's go!” She stuck her feet in the stirrup irons and pricked my sides with her spurs. I didn't have to be told twice.
We settled back into our rhythm and sped to the eleventh and twelfth jump, a vertical-grave combination. A wide ditch, resembling a shallow tomb, lay between two skinny verticals. I remembered it clearly as Danika warned Gretchen and me.
“A horse loses sight before he takes off so this grave can be particularly dangerous. If you don't calculate it right, your horse will stumble. Worse, they could break a leg,” Danika had said.
A chill ran down my spine. I didn't imagine Winny would let the vet put me down but being a three-legged horse would be a grave diagnosis.
Winny took a more executive stance as we approached the combo. I felt the weight of her seat on my back and she reeled in the reins, keeping a more firm grip on my head.
Cocking my head to the side, I tried to get a better view of the upcoming grave but my depth perception was ruined. Realizing that Winny would have to be the one to judge it for me, I turned over my confidence to her.
Clearing the vertical, I fit one stride in before I felt Winny's legs grip my sides and cue me to leap. Obedient, I sailed through the air and landed on the other side, kicking up a cloud of fine dust.
“Jump!” Winny commanded. I could barely see through the smoky cloud but I jumped. We cleared the wooden beam by a few extra feet above and away. Winny giggled and slapped my neck while complimenting me on my impressive bascule over the tiny fence. I could hear the judge laughing behind us as we galloped away.
My heart started to flit with nervousness, knowing Mike would be waiting for us soon. Leaving the safety of the vast prairie, Winny aimed me towards the thick grove of trees at the bottom of the hill. Eagerly, I ran.
Joining up with the trees, we raced alongside for a few strides before breaking away towards a small opening. Approaching, the entrance got darker and harder to see through. The sun broke through a cottony cloud and blinded me, making it nearly impossible to even see where we were going.
My steps were becoming shorter and higher, biding my time before I had to plunge into the darkness.
“Nadia,” Winny spoke in a threatening tone.
The older trees creaked and groaned as the entire timberland swayed chaotically to a violent gust of wind. Muscles tense, ears pricked, I stopped a few paces before the forest entry.
“Nadia,” Winny warned again with a sharp stab of the spurs. I flinched but didn't budge. “Go,” she hissed through her teeth. “We don't need this! You're wasting time!”
I danced side to side but couldn't muster the courage to step into the foreboding darkness. Unable to see beyond the thick row of trees at the edge, I could still smell the scent of wild animals that had crossed this path, putting me more on edge.
Winny gave a sharp smack of her crop on my flanks and I hopped forward. I snorted, listening for the breathing of predators that I was sure were waiting just inside the tree line.
Looking around on either side of us, Winny dropped the reins and slid down my left side. “As far as I know, there's no rule about dismounting while no one's around,” she muttered.
She ran in front of me and grabbed the rings of my bit to bring my frightened gaze to her level.
“I know it looks frightening but you have to trust me. It's safe.” She gathered the reins under my chin and pulled me forward. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, I stepped forward. Winny compelled me with a tap of the whip into a trot, disappearing into the darkness of the woods. Taking a deep breath and trying to summon some bravery, I plunged in behind her.
I was blind. All I could see were shining auras, like an interrogation under a spotlight. The bright splotches made me wince, confused and unable to dis
tinguish my surroundings.
Winny hurried back into the saddle and sent me into a short canter. My pupils adjusted and I found myself in the most serene place I'd ever been, nothing like the lion's den I'd convinced myself we were entering. There was a wide path cleared through the forest, peppered with tiny purple flowers and bordered by the tender green leaves of young trees.
The trail curved with the natural surroundings and I was back to galloping full speed within moments. Around rocks and beside a massive fallen tree half hidden by lichen and moss, each stride brought us closer to Mike. Surely he'd be watching for us. He'd promised.
The next four obstacles were successful. Winny landed hard after a drop jump over a bench, but the rest were plain old logs, cut, solid and enormous but easy to navigate.
Then I caught scent of Mike's cologne on the breeze. I pulled harder on the bit. “Keep it up!” Winny encouraged. We bounded towards a steep ditch lined with pebbles. Too wide to leap, Winny slowed me to a collected canter.
At the base of the ditch, hundreds, no, thousands of glistening snakes slithered by, spitting and hissing while they passed. Terrified, I reared and spun around to escape, saving myself and Winny. Sharply, she pulled my head back around and stopped my escape with her boot, pressuring my side.
“What are you doing?” she yelled angrily.
I tried to rear again, mortified that she wasn't seeing what lay in front of us. We were about to stumble into a trail of angry, writhing, and probably poisonous serpents.
We fought for a moment, neither of us willing to concede. Pointed directly at them, Winny pressed me on, urging me to ford through the slithering reptiles. I knew I should obey Winny but could I trust her with my life?
Chapter Twenty-One
“Go!” Winny shouted. Solid as a rock, I refused to budge. She expertly whipped my side, sending a biting sting through my haunches.
“Can't you see them?” I answered back. “We'll be killed!”
I wiggled back and forth, trying to reverse out of the ditch. Winny jabbed me with her spurs, jolting me forward.
Headed for the Win (Nadia and Winny Book 1) Page 12
