Riding on Air

by Maggie Gilbert

  William.

  Wearing his battered farm hat, work shirt and boots, William was ambling towards us with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. I couldn’t believe it was really him.

  My heart boomed against my ribs and started racing along, banging so hard it made me feel queasy. What little moisture I’d worked into my mouth disappeared, sucked out of me like rain on the desert.

  “How’s it going?” he said as he reached us.

  “Crap thanks to you,” Tash said coldly.

  William’s gaze flickered from her to me and then away again.

  “Tash, come with me,” Eleni said.

  “Why?”

  “So I can kill you. Come. Now.”

  “But—”

  “Now. I want to ask the gear steward something.”

  Tash, who obviously believed that about as much as I did, finally let Eleni drag her away. My face burning, heart trying to climb out of my throat, I was glad to see her go. Whatever William had to say to me, I didn’t want Tash there to provide an acid commentary from misplaced loyalty.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi.” William kept his eyes on Jinx and reached out to rub his nose. Jinx butted him in the arm, obviously pleased to see him again. I knew how he felt.

  “Jinx is looking well,” William said.

  “He’s going well. Tash has been riding him up until this week.”

  “I know.” William finally looked up and those blue eyes left my head reeling, just like always. Breathe in, breathe out, I reminded myself. Don’t faint and fall off.

  “You look really good too.”

  “I—so do you.”

  “I got your text.”

  “Yes.”

  “I was coming anyway.”

  “Oh.” Hope, that had spiked so madly sky-high when I saw him walking towards me among all the horses and people, sank rapidly back to earth. He might have got my text, but from the sound of his voice, he hadn’t got my message.

  Chapter 22

  Numbly, I lifted my right foot free of the stirrup. I glanced down to make sure the crate was still in the right place, but Jinx had sidled too far from it. I looked around for the girls but they were still stalking the gear steward who now had a couple of riders on horses waiting for their check.

  “Can you please bring that crate over?” I asked William.

  “Why?”

  “I have to get off and put my jacket on. I need to have a gear check and I have to be fully dressed.”

  William gazed up at me for a long moment.

  “What?” I mean, I knew this look wasn’t altogether flattering—my hair was by far my best feature and right now it was scraped back into a bun—but he was looking at me so intently I was starting to wonder if I’d smudged hoof oil on my face or something.

  “Why don’t you just put your coat on without getting off? While you’re on Jinx?”

  It was my turn to give him an eye-popping stare.

  “Says Mr Safety. Jeez, that’s a good way to have an accident even if your hands work properly, let alone—what are you doing?” I gasped, because William had stepped up beside Jinx and put his hands around my waist.

  “An assisted dismount. Kick both your feet out.”

  “William!” I mumbled, rattled and a tiny bit thrilled. My hope-meter was on the rise again as I kicked my other foot free and leant forward so he didn’t have to reach so high. He set me on my feet, only inches separating us, his big hands still circling my waist. I felt seared by his touch through the thin cotton of my shirt, sick with throttled hope and delight to be so close to him again.

  “You really can be careful. I guess you did mean what I hoped you meant.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him I’d never do something as stupid as change my clothing while I was sitting on my horse and then shut it again. Perception was everything. He believed I’d been riding Jinx when I wasn’t up to it and taking dangerous risks, so why should I be surprised that he had assumed I’d do other risky things on my horse?

  Especially because, in what he thought about my hands and my ability to ride Jinx at least, he’d been right. I’d sent him a text that said: ‘U were right about my hands. U were right about a lot of things. Love U. M’.

  “I meant it Will. You were right and I’m sorry I was such a bitch about it. I just—I have to do this today, it’s been my dream for so long. It’s what makes me feel normal.”

  “Forget normal, why can’t you see how special you are?”

  “I—special? No, wait. Just listen.” With both ears fully pricked, I thought, remembering my midnight conversation with Jennie, and it gave me courage to say what I had to say. “I get it now that you weren’t trying to ruin my life by stopping me riding. You were actually trying to protect it. Trying to protect me. And I guess that means you really do care about me. But I couldn’t understand how that could be, so I never let myself believe it. And that meant I couldn’t see why you acted the way you did. I thought I didn’t trust how you felt, but that wasn’t true. I didn’t trust how being with you made me feel. I was afraid that I was fooling myself and I just couldn’t bear it.”

  “I’ve always cared about you. I just had to wait until you were old enough that Gary and Brendan wouldn’t run me off with a shotgun.”

  Such a thrill ran through me that I forgot what I was going to say next. I reached up and slid my gloved hands around his neck. I was aware, even in that moment, that the only reason my hands were in good enough shape to do that was largely William’s doing. But that wasn’t what made me do it. I just couldn’t stand not to have my hands on him, not to know if he meant it. I needed to know if he was going to welcome my touch. I’d have pulled my gloves off except I knew that would really be pushing it with my hands and I still had to ride two tests.

  William kissed me then, despite how seriously unattractive I had to look in my hairnet and helmet. He kissed me as if he didn’t care about the people riding, walking and driving past, as if he didn’t hear Tash’s wolf whistle and Eleni telling her to shut up. He kissed me with an intensity that had me forgetting about championships and tests and everything going on around us. My stomach turned a slow flip and slide, then sank slowly back into place.

  When his lips parted from mine, for once I didn’t feel shocked and cold with the loss. I felt the lingering warmth of his mouth, the actual warmth of his hand on my back, and I stood in a bit of a daze while Tash got my reins sorted and Eleni and William both helped me into my jacket because now I was running late, but I didn’t care.

  The nerves had gone. My stomach had once again become an organ I didn’t really notice, rather than one that took up most of my attention with its unwelcome contortions. There was so much I needed to talk to William about and I wanted to tell the girls it was all OK now, all of it, but there was no time. They had me buttoned up, mounted up and were directing me towards the gear steward. I knew it was all going to have to wait until after I did my test.

  The nerves were gone. I sucked in a huge breath and let it out. I took the next one automatically, without having to make myself suck it in. I was grinning like a sideshow clown as I rode Jinx into a neat halt beside the frazzled gear steward. For the first time that day I started to be able to actually think about the test pattern we were about to perform and how best to prepare Jinx for it in the shortened warm-up time we had left.

  I rode Jinx into the dressage arena, straight up the centre line in sitting trot, driving him forward softly into my hands with my seat, eyes straight ahead on the judge sitting in her car. Just before the X in the middle of the arena I half-halted Jinx, timing it just right so that we made our halt bang on X. I could sense through my seat that Jinx was beautifully square. I could just glimpse the flowing arch of the black rosettes along his gleaming neck and as I took the reins in one hand and saluted the judge, I felt lifted on a bubble of happiness. We were off to an excellent start and that counted for so much in a test.

  The judge nodded back to me. I took the
reins in both hands once more and sent Jinx forward again in sitting trot, keeping my head up, making that left turn back onto the outside track right in front of the judge a crisp, impressively deep turn to show how supple Jinx was. I concentrated on breathing—in, out, in, out—and seeing the patterns I needed to ride so I could prepare early and ride Jinx strongly into each movement.

  I reckon there are three keys to riding a good competition dressage test: prepare for the movement, let it happen and prepare again for the next one. There’s no time to look back on mistakes. You have to empty them straight out of your head or you’ll just make more mistakes on the next movements. When riding a test there’s a lot to remember. A lot to get right.

  Our first leg-yield was tentative as we were going to our weak side. We wobbled a bit and had an ugly transition coming back from showing a lengthened trot across the diagonal, but I just kept breathing and kept riding. Kept looking for the shape of the next movement.

  Everything we did in one direction, we had to repeat the other way. I knew we were going to lose some more marks there because one thing judges look for is symmetry and Jinx and I were still noticeably better one way than the other. Although not nearly as much as he’d been before; Tash riding him for a few weeks had evened him up a lot. It showed me what two good hands and a really good rider could do.

  On our better side now, going to the right, Jinx settling into a beautiful springy working trot and a nice half 10-metre circle to set up for the leg-yield, yes, great, and so a much better lengthened trot that way too. Now for one of the tricky bits with Jinx—the walk transitions.

  OK, not too bad there. A bit of excess enthusiasm from Jinx as he anticipated going back into trot and the transition was too early, but that was done. Now the canter work and hope my hands would cope. Hope I could hold him.

  It was weird, like riding with my ears stuffed full of cotton wool so I couldn’t hear anything except the flutter of air through Jinx’s nostrils and, when I lost the connection a little bit in the first canter so he got too heavy on the forehand, the sound of his hooves hitting the ground. Each movement was judged out of 10 and we’d lose marks for that, but it didn’t matter. Another hard lesson learned along the way of years of competing. You could try to be perfect but dressage judges tended not to believe in that; the best I’d ever had was an eight and that was for about the best working trot circle we’d ever done and probably were ever likely to do.

  Jinx was going really well. Even my vision had shrunk down to this tiny bubble of awareness that was limited to the arena and my horse. I always had an ability to concentrate well at competitions but this was something new. This was amazing. I could see and feel everything so clearly. It was like I knew what Jinx was going to do almost before he did it and I could adjust for any little errors. And he was obviously getting the same vibe from me. He was moving through each movement so sweetly, back giving, neck arched, jaw soft on the bit, the reins almost springy, like elastic in my hands.

  Sweat rolled down my face and soaked the back of my shirt beneath the hot wool of my coat. I could practically feel my knuckles ballooning within the tight leather of my gloves. But I ignored the increasing burn in my joints, like I ignored the stinging distraction of the sweat, and I just rode. We did a 15-metre circle in canter, some lengthened strides, oops got a bit fast and flat there but he came back to me easily enough. Then into trot to change canter leads and I was a bit late with my aids for the transition, so a couple of really horrible disunited strides, but a little check with my hands—ouch—and Jinx corrected, smoothing out into his lovely energetic canter.

  Cantering the other way, another 15-metre circle, oops again, that was a bit ugly, had to be more like 17 or 18 metres, but my hips and hands were really starting to hurt. Only a couple of movements left now, don’t worry about what’s behind us, just concentrate on keeping it together through this last little bit. I want to finish as well as we started, please Jinx, come on, to hell with glass hands, damn it, that’s right, breathe, half-halt, eyes up, here comes B, start your turn now.

  Sitting trot up the centre line for the last time, straight at the judge. A split second choice to make: nothing left in my hands, so be conservative and know I can halt precisely on G or go for a big spanking trot and risk overshooting?

  Stuff it.

  I rode Jinx energetically forward, sitting tall and relaxed in the saddle, allowing with my hip joints even though they were just about screaming at me with every springy stride Jinx took. I stared straight at that judge and it was no effort at all to find that little smile you were always supposed to find, to show the judge you were enjoying all this and you thought you’d done a good test, no matter what kind of mess you’d made of it.

  I knew I hadn’t made a mess of it, even if bits of it weren’t great. Good in this case was great and by the time I half-halted before G I could feel my face stretching in a grin, rather than the polite smile that was more appropriate. And maybe that grin sent some kind of unconscious message to Jinx via my muscles, because when I asked him to halt he tucked his hindquarters under and planted his feet, his neck rising up out of his withers like an escalator as he halted as strong and square as you could hope from a perfect dressage horse.

  I snapped off a salute to the judge and let go of any hold I had left on that grin—I beamed with delight and rubbed Jinx’s neck ecstatically.

  The judge hopped out of her car and gave me a nod. It was nice to see she was smiling back at me, but it didn’t necessarily mean anything. I had no way of knowing what she’d said to the penciller who sat beside her recording all her scores and remarks. When I got my test sheet back at the end of the day, then I’d know. I’d get an idea of how good or bad it was likely to be a lot sooner than that, though. The scores for each test were put onto the massive white-boards set up by the canteen.

  I steered Jinx out of the arena at a long rein walk, letting him stretch. I couldn’t stop patting him, even if it did make my knuckles grumble. That was the absolute best test we’d ever done. I almost couldn’t believe we’d really done it. The details were kind of cloudy, as though it had all been a dream, but I could feel Jinx under me, striding towards the exit, eager to get out of the arena and back to the float. My sweat soaked shirt was sticking to me. That wasn’t the kind of detail you’d notice if you were dreaming, surely.

  “That kicked arse!” Tash exclaimed once I was clear of the arena. She had broken clear of the pack that consisted of Eleni, still wearing her groom’s apron and toting a bag of gear, Dad with a video recorder, Jennie in a big hat and a bigger grin, Mum with pride shining from her eyes and actually wearing jeans, and, my heart lifting again at the sight of him, William. I needed to say so much to all of them, different things for each of them, but right then the flood of emotion and fatigue and the weight of all those waiting expectations just choked me.

  “Kicked arse thanks to you,” I said to Tash, my voice rasping. She grinned and shrugged it off, but that was one debt of thanks paid, at least.

  Eleni came up and held a single-serve juice container up to me, straw already stuck through the hole.

  “You are a goddess,” I said, taking it from her as Tash put a restraining hand on Jinx’s reins. Jinx rewarded her by scrubbing his face along her shoulder and I knew he was as sweaty and wrung out as I was. I sucked down a couple of big gulps of the icy-cold, sweet juice and then handed it back to Eleni.

  “I better go cool him out a bit,” I said, kind of to everyone.

  “We’ll see you back at the float,” Dad said. I nodded and with a lingering glance at William, gathered up my reins and rode away.

  I’d have a few minutes to get myself together at least while I walked Jinx around a bit. I switched the reins to one hand again and experimentally fiddled with the top button of my riding jacket, wishing I’d thought to give it to Eleni, but taking off a coat while sitting on a horse was just as stupid as the other way round. Which is not to say I hadn’t done it in the past. Once my hands got
really bad I’d become a bit more careful, that was all.

  The button defeated me, either because my hands were feeling the heat and the strain of riding the test or the gloves just made me extra clumsy. I was going to have to stay hot until I got back to the float. I kicked my feet free of the stirrups and rotated my ankles gently against the cramped ache in them. I wondered what the judge had thought of our test. I hoped I’d scored well, but it always depended on what scores everyone else was posting.

  “Darling Jinx, what a star,” I murmured, rubbing my hand along his neck. Jinx walked on, his mind now fixated on getting back to the float, probably looking forward to a big drink and a guzzle at his hay net. He could have a little bit of water, but no hay yet. My tests today were inconveniently scheduled—just too far apart to stay out there and ride the next one, not quite far enough spaced to have a proper rest in between.

  I rolled my wrist and peered at my watch, then nudged Jinx onto a more direct line for our float. I wanted him to have time to have that drink before we went out again.

  If we went again. I was considering scratching from my second test. Seriously, how likely was it we could repeat such a great ride? And, as I too cooled down from all the excitement, I was more aware of the burn in my hands. I wasn’t sure they had another test in them.

  Chapter 23

  Tash was mysteriously absent when I got back to the float, but I had plenty of other helpers. Too many really. They got in each other’s way as they fussed over Jinx, swapping his bridle for a halter and taking his saddle off to give him a quick sponge and a chance to cool down before he was tacked up again for our next test.

  I stood and watched, feeling as fussed over and pampered as Jinx, although he didn’t seem to have any mixed feelings about it like I did. Jinx always felt he was the hero of his own story, I guess, and it made me grin to see him lapping up all the attention, chomping on the handfuls of hay Mum had stolen from his stashed hay net for him, condescending to take a drink from the bucket William held.