“I told you,” I said. “I’m not going to win it.”
But she just grinned.
“Jordan?” Taylor shouted across the crowd. “Where is Jordan?”
The guy who had sold me the ticket appeared. He was tall and muscled and cute in a bad boy rock band sort of way. Mickey waved at him and I thought I saw him wink back but I must have been imagining things. He was far too old and much too cool to be interested in someone like Mickey.
“My son Jordan will be doing the honors.” Taylor held up the hot pink bucket where the tickets had been placed. It looked like there was a lot of them. I knew my chances were slim to none.
Jordan held the bucket over his head and shook it up and down. Everyone laughed. Then he stuck his hand in and swirled it around a few times, making sure the paper tickets rustled about. Finally he made a dramatic show of sticking his arm right to the bottom and then pulled out a rather crumpled pink ticket stub.
“And the winner is,” he announced. “Emily Dickenson.”
“What?” I said. “No, that’s not right. I never win anything.”
But people were slapping me on the back and shoving me forward to collect my prize. Mickey was laughing at me and I was trying not to step on people’s feet as I made my way up to the front. Taylor enveloped me in a hug and Jordan was grinning. The saddle was thrust into my arms and I was squished between Taylor and Jordan as someone snapped a picture.
“For the newsletter,” Taylor said.
Everyone was congratulating me and saying what a wonderful saddle it was, when Jess pushed her way to the front.
“I demand a do over,” she said. “Emily Dickenson is a cheat.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Don’t be such a sore loser Jess,” Mickey said.
She was standing protectively by my side. My wing man. Always there to back me up no matter what.
“I’m not a sore loser,” Jess stuck her nose in the air. “How many tickets did she buy?” she pointed at me.
“I bought one,” I said.
“Exactly,” she cried. “I bought three and my friend bought five. I bet a bunch of other people here bought more than that. So how is it even possible that she won the saddle when she only bought one ticket? It’s statistically impossible.”
“It’s a raffle,” Jordan said. “It’s all about luck.”
“Well she doesn’t have any luck,” Jess said. “Now what are you going to do about this?”
“What are we going to do about this?” Taylor started to laugh. “Nothing. All contests are final. Thank you for your concern but there will be no do over.”
“So you’re just going to let it slide? Just like that?” Jess said, her voice getting louder again. “Don’t you know who I am? Who my father is?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t care who your father is, this is my store and my rules. The girl keeps the saddle and if you don’t like it, well then you can just feel free to leave any time your little heart desires.”
Jess stood there for a moment, her face turning redder by the minute. I thought that if she stayed much longer, steam might actually start coming out of her ears.
“How dare you,” she snapped. “You’ll be sorry. You think your stupid little store will survive around here without the likes of me? I’ll never buy anything from here and I’ll tell all my friends not to either and just wait until my father hears about how you treated me. You’ll be closed in a month.” She turned on her heels and strode off, grabbing her friend’s arm and pulling her along behind her. “And don’t ever call me sweetheart,” she yelled over her shoulder.
“I didn’t mean it as a term of endearment,” Taylor laughed.
I was still standing there clutching my saddle, almost afraid to breathe in case someone else decided that I really hadn’t won it after all.
“It’s okay,” Taylor said. “The saddle is yours. Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with people like her before.”
“So have we,” Mickey said. “Every time we go to a show.”
“You show against that girl? You poor things,” Taylor said. “What a nightmare.”
“She’s just mad because Emily beats her all the time,” Mickey said.
“Well I’m glad to hear it,” Taylor put her arm around me. “You know, the store is considering sponsoring an up and coming rider in the community. Give me a call some time. You sound like you’d be the perfect candidate.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling awfully overwhelmed and embarrassed.
“I can’t wait to see how the saddle fits on Bluebird,” Mickey gushed as we sat in the truck on the way back to the barn.
“Me either,” I said. “But we can’t exactly see properly in the dark.”
“Tomorrow then,” she said.
“Can’t. My evil stepsister is arriving tomorrow and I have to play nice so that I can go to the clinic without interference from Derek.”
“Well that sucks,” Mickey groaned.
“I know.”
I clutched the saddle tighter. It was heavy in my lap but I didn’t care. It was mine. All mine. I finally had a decent saddle. So why did I feel so guilty? It was something in the way Mickey had been so sure that I would win and the way that Jordan had almost winked at her. She wouldn’t have rigged the draw, would she? I needed a saddle more than anything but I didn’t need to feel guilty every time I rode in it, wondering if I shouldn’t have really won it at all. When we got back to the barn, I pulled her into the tack room.
“Ouch,” she said, rubbing her arm where I had grabbed her. “What is the matter?”
“This saddle,” I whispered, making sure Esther was well out of earshot. “I won it fair and square, right?”
“What do you mean?” she said.
“I mean that you didn’t flirt with Jordan just so you could get him to pick out my ticket, right?”
“What are you trying to say?” she crossed her arms. “Maybe he just liked me.”
“I don’t care about any of that,” I said. “All I care about is whether or not this saddle should really be mine. Was Jess right all along?”
“What, so now you believe everything that Jess says? You want to take the saddle back to the store and let someone else have it?”
She was starting to shout, her face angry and hurt. Maybe I’d been wrong to accuse her after all. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“No,” I said. “It’s just, I don’t know. Never mind.”
“Never mind is right,” she said. “That’s the last time I do something nice for you Emily Dickenson.” And with those words still hanging in the air, she strode off.
I felt sick. Jess had been right after all. The raffle had been rigged but it wasn’t my fault, hadn’t even been anything to do with me at all. I looked at it sitting there on the saddle rack, all new and pretty and ready to fix my stupid leg that was always slipping back in the other saddle.
If I took it back to the store, if I admitted that the saddle should never have been mine then I would be doing the right thing. But then I’d also be without a saddle to ride in the clinic with. A clinic that was one of the most important things in my riding career. Without the saddle, I’d have to forfeit my place. With it, I had the opportunity to catch the eye of Miguel Rodriguez and have him take me under his wing. Train me as his own special student. Give me a leg up in a world where I didn’t really stand a chance alone. If I didn’t have money then all I had left was trying to get connections and the clinic was the place to get them. I couldn’t give that up.
“Everything alright?” Esther poked her head around the door.
“Fine,” I said, slipping the cover back over the saddle.
“It will still be there tomorrow afternoon,” she smiled. “You’ll be able to try it out then.”
“I know,” I said, and slid the door shut behind me.
I would treat the saddle with the upmost of care. I’d clean it and cover it and try not to get it dirty. I’d use it for the clinic because I didn’t have a choice but whe
n I came back, I would go to Taylor and explain that my best friend was only trying to help and that she didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I’d return the saddle and let Taylor raffle it off again. Then the guilty feeling would go away and everything could go back to normal again.
I left the barn knowing I had a horrible morning to get through but at least I had the saddle waiting for me and even though it wasn’t going to be mine forever, at least it would be mine for a little while.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Derek told me to wear a dress. I laughed in his face. I didn’t mean to exactly, it was just that I hadn’t worn a dress since I was seven and unless you counted the monstrosity that I’d been forced to wear for the wedding, which I didn’t, then I technically didn’t own a dress.
“What do you mean she doesn’t own a dress?” Derek asked my mother.
Mom was in the kitchen looking neat and tidy in a navy blue pant suit, something that I suspected Derek had picked out for her. What was the big deal? Catherine was just a kid like me, not the queen of England. I didn’t see why we all had to pretend to be something we weren’t. She was going to figure out how screwed up we all were soon enough.
“Just leave her be,” Mom sighed.
Score one for the biological daughter.
“You know what would be really cool?” I said.
Mom looked over at me. I could tell she was just willing me to be quiet but I couldn’t help myself.
“What?” Derek said.
“If I stayed here and then I could make a big welcome home sign and it would be all ready by the time you guys get back.”
“And sneak off to the barn as soon as we’re gone? I don’t think so,” Derek said.
Man, the guy really knew me. That sort of sucked.
“We’re all going to the airport,” Mom said.
So we did. I sat in the back of the car, making a mental check list of all the things I needed to pack for the clinic. Eventually I stuffed my headphones in my ears and turned my music up to drown out Derek who was starting to sound rather weepy as he went on and on about how he hadn’t seen Catherine in ages and how he couldn’t wait to see her. We’d been hearing about how fantastic she was for weeks now. She was on the debate team, she volunteered at the homeless shelter and she had adopted a Romanian orphan. Not actually adopted but she sent part of her allowance every month to the orphanage where her precious dollars and cents paid for diapers and milk.
Don’t get me wrong, it all sounded fantastic. But it was the sort of thing you read about in books. Not real life. There was no way Catherine could be that great unless she wasn’t a real girl at all but someone who had been abducted by aliens or something.
The airport was pretty deserted. I trailed behind Mom and Derek, feeling totally grossed out as they walked along holding hands. Mom was putting on a good show, trying to be the doting stepmother. It was disgusting. How could she just forget about Summer and replace her with saint Catherine? The whole thing felt all wrong.
I sat on one of those uncomfortable plastic seats while Mom and Derek hovered about by the gate. It was still warm from the butt of the last person who had sat in it and they were all attached together by a big metal bar so that every time the kid down the row jumped up and down, my seat moved. It was starting to make me feel sea sick. Or maybe it was just the impending sense of doom.
The noise started to filter down the corridor before the people did, the excited mummer of travelers who were happy to escape their plane in one piece. Derek beckoned me over but I just pretended that I didn’t see him. Let them be the ones to hug and kiss the perfect daughter. I was just fine on my plastic seat in the corner, thank you very much.
They came by in droves, parents with screaming kids and business men in suits. Everyone looked tired and cranky, their emotions raw and on display for all to see. That was what air travel did to you. I kept looking for a preppy girl in a wool sweater and plaid skirt, which was how I imagined her in my head, all braids and braces and bright shining eyes only I didn’t see anyone who looked like that at all. I couldn’t stop hoping that maybe she had changed her mind and decided not to come after all and suddenly I didn’t feel so sick anymore.
I could tell that Derek was getting worried. He’d left my mom’s side and pushed his way to the front, trying to see where Catherine was but the crowd was thinner now. Most of the people had already come off the plane. The only ones left were those whose kids had fallen asleep and were now screaming their heads off because they’d been woken abruptly and were tired and cranky.
But there was a girl, standing alone with a suitcase. She looked like she was Catherine’s age but it couldn’t be her, it just couldn’t. Then she caught Derek’s eye and waved and I just knew that my whole life had suddenly got a million times better.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She was the anti-Catherine. Well, at the very least she was the polar opposite of the image I had created in my head. She had hot pink hair that tufted in spikes around her face, thick black eye shadow and a nose ring. There were tears in her fishnet stockings that I was pretty sure she had made herself and the black mini skirt complimented her combat boots in a really cool way I was sure I could never pull off.
Derek just stood there with his face pale and mouth hanging open. It was one of the best non horsey moments of my life. I waited for something to happen. Surely he would snap and start screaming at his own daughter like he did at me but eventually he just closed his mouth and walked over to her, his shoulders hunched like someone had just piled a fifty pound sack on his back.
He leant in to hug her but she pulled away, still smiling but obviously wary. I didn’t blame her. I didn’t like him but he wasn’t my father and even though mine was missing, I had my rosy family memories to hold onto. I wasn’t sure that Catherine had any of those.
They stood there looking at each other awkwardly until my mom came to the rescue, all smiles and non-threatening gestures. Then they came over to where I sat slumped in my plastic seat, hoping they would just forget about me and I could go and live with the unclaimed baggage.
“Emily, this is Catherine,” Mom said.
“Cat,” she said.
“Hi,” I stood up, realizing that she was a lot taller than I was.
“Hey,” she said back and that was it.
She trailed behind them on the way back to the car so I trailed behind her. I was curious about this girl who was now a part of my family. She was nothing like I had expected her to be. Instead she was something new and different but that still didn’t mean I particularly wanted her around, sharing my home and my things and more importantly my mother. I already had to share her with Derek. Wasn’t that bad enough?
In the car she stuck in her headphones so I did the same. Mom looked in the rear view mirror and then at Derek. I knew she was probably thinking that instead of ending up with someone who was going to be a role model for her wayward horse mad daughter, she ended up with someone who had the possibility of being something far worse.
“This is it?” Cat said when we got to the house.
“This is it,” Derek said, sounding apologetic.
“It’s bigger than it looks,” I said, feeling defensive.
This was the house that my mother and I had lived in long before Derek came into the picture and even though it wasn’t much, it had been ours. It was only smaller now because Derek took up so much of it with all his junk and his stupid cars parked out front.
Mom showed her to the spare room which had been filled with stuff nobody wanted before we spent a whole day clearing it out. Now there was just a single bed, a chest of drawers and a TV that only got certain channels and sometimes you had to thump it a few times with your fist to get rid of the wavy lines.
“Thanks,” she said and shut the door.
I went to my own room to change into my riding clothes. I’d grab a quick sandwich and then I had my beautiful new saddle just waiting for me to try out. I certainly didn’t need to stick around and w
atch Derek finally explode. When I snuck back down to the kitchen, I could hear Mom and Derek whispering about Cat. This was turning out even better than I ever could have hoped for. Instead of getting all up in my business, now they would have Cat to pick on and annoy and yell at.
“She has what?” Ethan asked later at the barn.
“A nose ring and pink hair,” I said, switching the stirrup leathers from my old saddle to the new one.
“No way,” he grinned.
“Yup. Derek looked pretty mad but he didn’t even yell at her, at least not yet anyway. He just stood there with his mouth open looking all stupid.”
“He probably couldn’t believe it,” Ethan said.
“I could hardly believe it myself,” I said. “But I couldn’t stick around to see how it was all going to play out. Got to make sure this saddle fits Bluebird for the big clinic.”
Mickey was out in the ring working Hampton. I’d waved when I saw her but even though I was pretty sure that she had seen me, she didn’t wave back. I guessed she was still mad about the whole saddle thing but she couldn’t be mad at me forever.
“Ready for a test ride?” Esther stuck her head around the corner.
“Yes,” I grinned.
Bluebird looked like he had rolled in the biggest, muddiest puddle he could find and it took ages to clean him up well enough to try the new saddle on.
“You can’t keep it looking perfect forever,” Esther looked at her watch and frowned. “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”
“Alright,” I said, wiping a stray dust spot off with a towel.
It was alright for her, she just thought the saddle was mine. She didn’t know that I was going to have to return it eventually.
I placed the saddle on Bluebird’s bare back so that Esther could check the fit. She walked back and forth and stuck her fingers under it while I tried to tell if it was good or not. Finally she stepped back and smiled.
“I do believe you have found the perfect saddle for your pony,” she grinned. “How lucky is that?”
Star Pupil (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 4) Page 3
