Star Pupil (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 4)

by Claire Svendsen

  “Ready to get your butt whooped again today?” Becka jumped on top of my bed at the crack of dawn.

  “Just five more minutes,” I groaned, rolling over and pushing her off.

  “You think Miguel made it to the top by spending five more minutes in bed?” she said.

  And the reality of where I was made it through my sleepy brain. I was at Black Gate, training with one of the top riders in the country. Becka was right. This was no time to sleep.

  “He’s not really very much like I imagined,” I said, looking out the window to check on Bluebird. He was standing by his feed tub, waiting patiently for his breakfast and Blue Midnight was standing in the back of his stall, no longer pacing.

  “Who, Miguel?” Becka said, trying to straighten her bed hair in the mirror.

  “Yeah, I mean I don’t know exactly what I expected but he’s kind of, I don’t know.”

  “Mean?” Becka said.

  “I guess,” I said but that wasn’t it.

  Mickey had filled my head with all her talk of Miguel’s money and mansion and I’d expected him to be more like an underwear model guy who had the Midas touch when it came to horses and riders. Like he would whisper magic words in our ears and suddenly we’d be the best because he told us his secret to success. The real Miguel was somewhere in the middle and yet someone else entirely.

  “Well whatever he is, I know he’s going to be mad if we don’t get down there and feed our horses and clean our stalls.”

  “Don’t forget grooming them so that they shine brighter than the sun,” I said.

  “It’s kind of hard work, isn’t it?” she grinned.

  “And it’s also kind of awesome,” I smiled.

  It may have been all kinds of awesome but it was also freezing cold outside. I was grateful that my mom had forced me to bring some winter clothes just in case but I guess some of the other kids hadn’t been as prepared. Some of them were cleaning stalls wrapped in their horse’s blankets.

  “Well this sucks,” Peter said. “How are we supposed to ride in this?”

  “It’s just like the Snowball Cup all over again,” I said.

  “Just as long as it doesn’t actually start snowing,” Becka groaned. “That’s not supposed to happen in Florida.”

  Bluebird was pleased to see me and his breakfast. He inhaled his grain and got started on his hay before I’d even fetched the muck tub to clean out his stall. Luckily he was a pretty clean pony. His manure was in neat piles all in one spot. Others weren’t so lucky. Topaz had spread his around a fair bit but none were as bad as Blue Midnight’s stall. I’d peaked inside when I walked by and seen the manure shredded into tiny pieces by his incessant pacing the night before. It was going to take Jess ages to clean it up to Miguel’s standards and cleaning stalls wasn’t exactly her thing. Only Jess never showed up.

  “Where do you think she is?” I asked Becka.

  We’d cleaned our stalls and waterers and our horses were neat and tidy under their blankets. But Blue Midnight was still calling out for his grain, getting ever more stressed that everyone else had been fed and he hadn’t.

  “Still sleeping?” Becka said.

  “Well she is going to be in big trouble if she doesn’t get her butt down here and take care of her horse,” I said. “Do you think Miguel would kick her out, even though her father is paying for her to be here?”

  “He should,” Becka said. “She obviously doesn’t care about her horse or learning anything. I don’t see why she should get it so easy just because she’s rich.”

  We were watching our horses eat their hay when the smell of breakfast wafted down the aisle. I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days as I inhaled the delicious smell of crunchy bacon and fat sausages. We followed it like hounds tracking a scent to the lounge where we found Dan with a spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other.

  “Food’s up,” he straightened his apron and winked at us.

  “I’ve never smelt anything so good in all my life,” Becka said.

  “I know, I don’t even usually eat breakfast but I’m starving!”

  Everyone’s faces were red from the cold and the wind but the cooked breakfast seemed to make everyone forget how nasty the weather was outside.

  “These sausages are so delicious,” Peter said, stuffing the third one into his mouth.

  “How are you going to ride with all that sloshing around in your stomach?” Hadley teased him.

  “You can talk,” he laughed, pointing to the five pieces of bacon on her plate.

  “I can’t help myself,” she replied.

  Halfway through breakfast Jess appeared, looking sullen as usual. She hovered over in the corner talking to one of the grooms, a young guy with short black hair. He nodded when she slipped something into his hand and then he left. She walked over to what was left of the food and picked up a piece of toast with a look of disgust.

  “Hey,” I leant over the table and whispered to the others. “Did you see that? Jess talking to that groom? You don’t think she was paying him to clean her stall, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her,” Becka said.

  “Whatever,” Hadley sat back to finish her bacon. “I don’t care what she does. I have enough of my own problems to worry about.”

  I sat back knowing that she was right. I didn’t have time to worry about Jess and what she was doing. I had to concentrate on what I was doing and nothing else if I was going to make the team. Let Jess shoot herself in the foot and get kicked out of the clinic. I didn’t care.

  We were just finishing up the last scraps of our breakfast when Miguel burst into the lounge, all full of life and boundless energy. He had a red scarf wrapped around his neck and a wicked gleam in his eye.

  “It’s a glorious day out there,” he cried. “Who’s ready to show me that they have improved from yesterday?”

  “Improved?” Becka whispered. “I’m just hoping that I don’t fall off. My legs are still killing me.”

  Mine were too but this was the chance of a lifetime. There was no time to take a break or sit on the sidelines. Not if you wanted to make the team and that was why we were all there after all.

  “Okay,” Miguel clapped his hands together. “Last one out to the ring has to clean all the stalls.” And he flounced out of the lounge like some kind of demented pied piper.

  There was a mad rush of chairs scraping against the floor and dishes thrown into the sink as we all scurried after him like good little rats. Cleaning our own stalls was one thing, cleaning all the stalls was something else entirely and it was clear that no one wanted to be the last one out to the ring.

  “I’ll bet I get out there before you,” Becka cried, grabbing her saddle from the tack room.

  “Not if I can help it,” I said.

  Everyone was pushing and shoving and prodding their horses into saddles and bridles but I had a sneaky suspicion that this was just another one of Miguel’s tricks. Get out to the ring as fast as you can and forget to poke the saddle soap out of your bridle holes and you might be the one cleaning all the stalls after all. I was just glad that I’d already groomed Bluebird to a shine and taken care of my tack the night before.

  As I dashed past, I saw the dark haired groom slip out of Blue Midnight’s stall. When he caught me looking at him, he ducked his head and tucked something into his pocket. I thought I saw a flash of silver. Something pointed. Something bad. But it couldn’t be a syringe, could it?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I wasn’t the first one out to the ring but I wasn’t the last either. Jess was, which was pretty ridiculous considering that I was pretty sure she’d paid off that groom to clean her stall, groom her horse and do whatever else it was he’d been doing in there. Now what was she going to do? Pay him to clean everyone’s stalls? Or perhaps she thought that since she was a paying customer, she was immune to Miguel’s challenge.

  She stood there with a bored look on her face and Blue Midnight stood next to her looking equally bo
red, a completely different horse than the one who was pacing around his stall the night before.

  “Line up for inspection,” Miguel said, without saying a word about who was the last one out.

  A few people groaned. I knew that in the mad rush they would have forgotten all the things that Miguel drummed into our heads yesterday about turnout and dedication and taking pride in yourself and your horse. He motioned for each rider to bring their horse forward and he went over them with just as much scrutiny as the day before. Almost everyone passed. Just a few got a verbal smack down for a stray piece of hay in the tail or a stained saddle pad.

  “Not bad,” Miguel said, finally waving the last girl back to the line. “Mount up.”

  Our horses and ponies were fresh. The cold wind that was blowing down from the north cut through the arena like a knife. My cheeks already stung and I couldn’t feel my fingers even though I was wearing gloves. But at least in the saddle, I’d soon warm up.

  “Who here takes dressage lessons?” Miguel said.

  A couple of people groaned but Hadley raised her hand.

  “I used to ride dressage before I got Splash,” she said.

  “Good, now why are the rest of you rolling your eyes?” he asked.

  “Dressage is boring,” someone said.

  “Boring? Boring?” Miguel cried. “That’s what you all think is it?”

  A few people nodded but I just tried to concentrate on keeping Bluebird in a straight line. The wind was making him all wiggly and I didn’t really dislike dressage. I just didn’t find it half as fun as jumping.

  “What do you think helps make your horse supple?” Miguel carried on talking as he moved some poles around on the ground. “How do you end up with a horse that can make those tight turns? Do you spend all your time in the air? No. It’s how you get to the jump that makes the difference. If you are not taking at least one dressage lesson a week, you are robbing yourself and your horse.”

  “I’d rather watch paint dry,” Peter said as he pranced by on Rocket.

  “And I’ll bet that Miguel could arrange that for you,” I called after him.

  So instead of trying to coax our frisky beasts over a set of jumps, we had to encourage them to round their backs and bend their bodies as Miguel had us doing shoulder ins down the rail.

  Some of the horses took to it better than others. I was one of the lucky ones. Bluebird was pretty supple and responsive and although I’d never had any formal dressage training, Esther made us work on the flat a couple of times a week doing the same sorts of things. Mickey always moaned and groaned because it was usually around the same time that Esther had us drop our stirrups but now I was especially grateful.

  “You,” Miguel shouted at Becka. “I said shoulder in not head and neck in. Use more leg.”

  Becka applied the correction and Topaz obliged. Soon we were all performing acceptable shoulder ins at the walk so Miguel had us trot. Then, just to make sure things were even, he had us do haunches in as well.

  We spent the rest of the morning doing circles, serpentines and half passes across the arena. As I concentrated on what I was doing, I still couldn’t help but notice how Blue Midnight was acting like a completely different horse. He didn’t try to bolt forward when Jess used her leg or rear up when she tried to stop him like yesterday. I waited for Miguel to say something, to remark on the amazing transformation that had taken place. Surely he would find it suspicious as well? But if he did, he didn’t say anything.

  “Good job everyone,” Miguel finally said. “Go take care of your horses and you have a free hour before lunch. Use it wisely.”

  “Use it wisely,” Becka said. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It probably means we’re supposed to spend it cleaning tack or something,” Peter groaned.

  “I don’t think my tack could get any cleaner than it already is. Besides, I want to check on something,” I said, patting Bluebird’s neck.

  “What?” Becka said.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said as Jess walked Blue Midnight by us.

  “Ready to give up and go home?” she said. “Oh wait, you don’t really have a home to go back to do you? I heard that your mother has a new daughter now so I guess she doesn’t really need you anymore.”

  “You evil, horrible little cockroach,” Becka snapped.

  “Just ignore her,” I said and I was trying to but Jess had hit me where it hurt. I don’t know how she knew about Derek and now Cat taking over my house but she did and she also knew that it was something that could hurt me.

  “She’s just trying to rattle you,” Peter said. “So that she gets a spot on the team and you don’t.”

  He pulled Rocket alongside me and patted my knee.

  “I know,” I said. “I’m used to it.”

  I watched Blue Midnight amble back to the barn and resisted the urge to toss my crop at Jess’s back. She may not have had much riding talent but she sure knew how to piss people off. And I didn’t care that she was a mean, horrible person but I did care if she was going to cheat her way onto the team and as far as I was concerned, drugging your horse was cheating and I knew that Miguel would think so too. Only I couldn’t go to him without solid proof and somehow I was going to get it.

  “Come on,” I said to my new friends. “I need your help.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Shouldn’t we have gloves on or something?” Hadley whined. “If there really is a syringe in here, I don’t want to get jabbed by the needle and contract some horrible disease.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Becka said. “What kind of disease do you think you’d catch anyway?”

  “I don’t know but knowing my luck, I’d be the one to catch it. Last year, I caught pink eye from the county fair.”

  “Well just don’t stick your fingers in your eyes and I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Becka said.

  But Hadley just stood there with her arm in the trash can and a look of fear on her face.

  “Fine,” I said. “Go be look out instead of Peter then.”

  “Because hiding behind the manure spreader is so much more healthy,” she said as she walked off.

  “You really shouldn’t have included her,” Becka said, rolling up her sleeve and diving into the trash can. “I don’t think we can trust her.”

  “You may be right,” I sighed. “But it’s too late now.”

  I’d told them about Jess talking to the groom at breakfast and then how I saw him leave Blue Midnight’s stall with something that I thought might possibly be a syringe.

  “If the horse is getting drugged then that is totally cheating,” Becka said. “Not to mention dangerous. You can’t have a drugged up horse cantering over jumps. What if he trips and falls?”

  “So what if he does?” Peter shrugged. “The only one who would get hurt is Jess and she deserves it.”

  “I don’t want her to get hurt,” I said. “But I don’t want her cheating her way onto the team either.”

  “Fine,” Becka sighed. “But I still don’t see why we just can’t let her get hurt instead.”

  It was easy enough to say things like that but I knew that if something did happen to Jess, she wouldn’t feel that way at all. She’d feel guilty instead. Besides, I’d already lost one person to a riding accident, I wasn’t about to lose another, even if she was out to ruin my life.

  “There is nothing in here,” Becka said, scraping a half moldy sandwich off her elbow. “If he did inject Blue Midnight with something then he probably wouldn’t be stupid enough to just throw the syringe in the trash.”

  “You’re probably right,” I leant against the wall with a sigh. “So now what?”

  “Now we’ll have to try and catch them in the act. Drugs don’t last forever. They’ll have to give him another shot soon. If we take turns keeping an eye out and snap a picture of them injecting Blue Midnight with something then we can show Miguel.”

  “I guess,” I said but I wasn’t too keen on spending
all night out in the cold just so I could get a photograph. It didn’t seem like good enough proof.

  “I still say that horse looks familiar,” Becka said. “Maybe if we found out where he came from then it would help.”

  “How would that help?” Peter said.

  “Because maybe his old owner had to drug him too and that’s why they got rid of him, duh,” Becka said.

  “It couldn’t hurt,” I said.

  “Well while you go and snoop around, I’m going to try and find a guy who knows the score of the football game.”

  “Fine then, chicken,” Becka called after him.

  “Boys,” I shook my head as Peter walked off.

  “He’s kind of cute though, don’t you think?” Becka said, throwing trash back into the bin.

  “You think he’s cute? But you act like you don’t even like him.”

  “Emily,” she stopped mid throw and looked at me, shaking her head. “Don’t you know anything about boys at all?”

  “I prefer horses,” I mumbled.

  “You think that now but just you wait,” then she smiled like boys were this big secret.

  I didn’t know why everyone thought that one day I’d change my mind, like I’d be hit by lightning and suddenly forget all about horses and only think about boys? I mean, what was so interesting about them anyway that would take up every second of every day? I already kind of liked Ethan but only because he was smart and kind and fun to be around. I didn’t think about him all the time or in fact hardly at all when I wasn’t around him. I guess I just didn’t get it. Boys and love were like a puzzle and someone had forgotten to give me the decoder ring, which was fine by me. I didn’t need them anyway.

  There was a computer in the lounge so Becka and I slipped inside while no one was looking. Hadley had said that she wouldn’t come because she wasn’t really very good with computers and besides, she needed to go and sanitize her arms.

  “She just didn’t want to get caught snooping around,” Becka said.

  “Well we’d better be careful. I don’t want to get caught snooping around either. It would kind of suck if we got kicked out of the clinic while we were in the process of trying to get Jess kicked out.”