Dark Horse (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 23)

by Claire Svendsen

  “Oh it’s fine,” she said vaguely.

  “You are not going to tell me what it is are you?” I said.

  “Nope.” She shook her head and grinned.

  “Well I hope you showed Macaroni the haunted pumpkin patch already because everyone else did so it’s not really cheating.”

  “I showed him,” she said. “I rode right by it and he didn’t even care.”

  “Awesome,” I said. “Maybe you’ll win. The person who gets their horse through fastest gets a prize.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “We’re in the pony jumper class too but we’re kind of out of practice. When is Missy coming back?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, coming out of the stall to stand next to her.

  “She is coming back though, isn’t she?”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “But I don’t think so.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  That night I couldn’t sleep. I lay awake listening for the sound of shots in the distance. The hunters weren’t supposed to hunt in the dark but they’d already broken the rules. I’d watched the news in horror as dead momma bears were shoved in the back of pick-up trucks. It was against the rules to kill females with cubs but the hunters didn’t care and it’s not like they could undo it. The damage had already been done.

  I slept for a few hours and then woke early. Cat had offered to help with the show. I thought that it was nice of her considering she didn’t really know anything about horses and had only pretended to that one time when she went out with a rider to make me mad. We’d told her she could manage the check-ins, the pumpkin carving contest and hand out ribbons. She seemed happy with that. Mom didn’t.

  “You don’t want to help with those smelly old horses, do you?” she’d asked Cat.

  “Why not?” Cat shrugged. “There is nothing else to do around here. I’m bored of watching television. I want to have a life.”

  “And I suppose being stuck here with me all day isn’t a good enough life for you?” Mom said.

  “Not really,” Cat had mumbled.

  “Come on,” I’d told her. “I’ll show you how it’s going to be set up.”

  Mom frowned as Cat and I walked away together. Not quite sisters or friends but not enemies either. I didn’t know what Cat and I were but I felt I owed her a second chance. And I knew that she didn’t deserve to be stuck with my mother any more than I did.

  Down in the barn, I was relieved to see that Hashtag had kept most of his bones intact. I’d left the paint outside his stall so that I could touch him up and I did so as he ate his breakfast. Cat appeared wearing a woolly hat and sweatpants even though it wasn’t really that cold.

  “Wow,” she said. “Did you do that?”

  “It’s for the costume class,” I said. “And a school project. I’m going to take pictures of him later and make a presentation to send to my teacher.”

  “You are so lucky,” she said. “I want to do virtual school but my grades kind of all went wrong up in Wisconsin. I skipped a lot of classes and kind of got kicked out. I don’t know if virtual school would even take me.”

  “Maybe you should just enroll in regular school,” I said. “At least it would get you out of the house.”

  “True,” she said. “I’m going stir crazy but your mom seems to think that if we leave the house then my dad is going to jump out and attack us or something. She’s gone totally paranoid.”

  “Is she right?” I said, coming out of Hashtag’s stall. “Is that a possibility?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

  She didn’t sound very convinced. I was already worried about hunters prowling around our woods without our permission and now I’d have to worry about my mother’s angry husband showing up too. Or soon to be ex-husband. I’d overheard her talking on the phone to a lawyer. At least she’d been sober for that.

  “When did she start drinking?” I said.

  Now that Cat and I were talking, I wanted to know the truth about everything.

  “I think it was her way of coping,” Cat said. “It’s kind of funny because the more she drank, the less I wanted to. Now I’m the clean and sober one and she’s a mess.”

  “She’s not a mess,” I said. “She’s my mother.”

  “I know,” Cat said. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her more.”

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “It wasn’t your job.” We stood there for a moment in silence, listening to the horses eating their breakfast. “There is coffee in the office,” I finally said. “And I have a secret stash of Pop Tarts. Some of them are pumpkin flavored.”

  “I haven’t eaten those since I was five,” she said.

  “When you get hungry enough, trust me, you’ll want one,” I told her. “Or you could go back up to the house and get moaned at by my mother again?”

  “I’ll eat the Pop Tart,” she said. But she didn’t look overly thrilled about it.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Deciding to keep the Halloween show an in barn affair was one of the best decisions we could have made. There were no people showing up with trailers full of horses. No stalls to delegate or people to organize. Miss. Fontain and Mr. Rivers had been roped into helping judge the classes and some of the show moms had volunteered. We had everything well in hand or at least we thought we did until people started arriving and then it was just like any other show day.

  Kids were braiding and fighting over brushes and boots. A little girl was wailing because she’d lost one of her braid ribbons and others were hauling in giant bags with their costumes. I saw an inflatable beach ball, a pair of flippers and a wet suit poking out of a bag along with a rubber shark fin.

  “The costume class is going to be interesting,” I said when Dad appeared, already looking frazzled.

  “The costume class is going to be the death of me,” he said. “And how are we supposed to pick a winner? Whoever we pick, the others will just say that we are playing favorites. It’s not like the jumper class where you can point out that they knocked a rail down. We need to get someone else to judge it, someone completely impartial.”

  “Like who?” I said.

  “I don’t know.” Dad shook his head. “But we’d better think of someone and fast.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “I have an idea.”

  “But I don’t know anything about horses or costumes,” Cat said when I asked her.

  “That’s the point,” I said. “That means you’ll pick the best one and since you don’t know anyone then people can’t say that you’re choosing favorites.”

  “I know you and I already think that your costume is the best,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I said, my heart sinking. “You can’t pick me.”

  “I know,” she said.

  I thought of all the hard work I’d put into Hashtag’s costume. I’d even painted the human bones on a body suit that I was going to wear when I rode him. Hours and hours of detailed research and painting and it had all been for nothing. Or had it? Because there was a crowd of people hovering around Hashtag’s stall and pointing at him.

  “I can’t ride in the class now that Cat is judging it,” I told Dad when he pointed them out to me.

  “You may not be able to ride in the class,” Dad said. “But you could do a demonstration.”

  “You really think people want to see that?” I said.

  “I think that is exactly what they want,” he replied with a grin.

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  I rode into the ring while everyone crowded around the railing. I felt kind of self-conscious in my body suit of bones, in fact I felt fat. But people weren’t really looking at me, they were looking at Hashtag and how my painted bones showed how his worked when he was ridden. Dad was totally into it. He stood there pointing out how the groups of bones and tendons all worked together and then he set up a small gymnastic exercise in the middle of the ring.

  “I wasn’t planning on jumping him,” I whisp
ered to Dad.

  “People want to see the bones jump,” he replied, pointing to the kids all hanging on the railing and the adults behind them. Even the non-horsey parents had seemed interested. It would be a shame to let them down now.

  “Well keep them small,” I said.

  “I know you’ve been working with Hashtag,” Dad said. “I think he’s ready. Don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said.

  But Hashtag had puffed himself up as soon as he went into the ring like he was a different horse. A better horse. It was like he knew that everyone was watching him and he’d missed it. I didn’t know he was such a performer but it turned out that keeping him out of the spotlight maybe hadn’t been the best thing for him after all.

  We cantered down the line of small jumps while Dad pointed out things to the eager onlookers and then he raised the jumps. Hashtag pranced his way back to the end of the ring and we took the line again. Each time Dad raised the jumps, my horse puffed himself up a little more and I felt my heart swell. He was trying his heart out for me and for the crowd and he was amazing. I couldn’t believe I’d wanted to ride Nyx when Hashtag had been sitting in my barn all along. I’d been such a fool.

  The last jump was now a four foot oxer. The crowd was quiet as we cantered down the line of jumps, bouncing over the smaller verticals with one stride between them until we came to the final jump.

  “Hup,” I said as I gave him his head and he soared over the fence and my heart soared with him.

  The onlookers cheered and Hashtag got patted and praised and handfuls of treats as people came into the ring to get a close up look of his anatomy and mine. To see how a horse and rider worked together from the inside out. Even I had to admit that it was pretty cool.

  “I videoed it for you,” Cat said. “So that you can add it to your presentation.”

  “Thanks,” I replied and I meant it because I’d completely forgotten about videoing my ride and there was no way that I was going to ask Hashtag to do it all over again.

  “I think he’s ready to start showing again, don’t you?” Dad said as I finally pulled Hashtag away from his fans and took him back to the barn.

  “Yes,” I said with a grin. “I think he is.”

  But above the noise of the people who had returned to getting their own horses ready, I heard a shot. It was off in the distance but I knew it was in our woods.

  “The bears,” I cried, leaping back into the saddle.

  “Emily, wait,” Dad shouted after me but we’d already gone.

  We galloped across the field and through the woods, my skeleton horse and I. Hashtag was pumped up after jumping and we flew down the trail and turned down the dead end. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when I got there. I was just a girl and her horse. I didn’t have the power to stop anyone from doing anything and the hunter would have a gun. What did I have? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the shot I’d heard wasn’t a shot at all but a car backfiring or a firework being let off. But I knew in my heart that it was someone in our woods and that someone was after our bears. My bears.

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO

  We trotted down to the tree and I saw him standing there in his hunting gear, a large man with a moustache and a rifle. It was Mr. Eastford, Jess’s father. I should have known that he would be the one to trespass considering he acted like he owned the whole town anyway.

  “What are you doing?” I screamed at him. “This is private property.”

  “Get away from me kid,” he said, swinging the rifle in my direction. “I have a license to shoot a bear and that is exactly what I am going to do.”

  “But this is private property,” I yelled at him. “You don’t have permission to shoot here and I read the rules. You are not allowed to shoot lactating females. Our bear has cubs.”

  “I don’t see any bear cubs,” he spat, pointing to the momma bear who was up in her tree, clutching the trunk like her life depended on it.

  “They are probably hiding,” I said. “They are here. I’ve seen them. Please, don’t do this.”

  “And how exactly do you think you are going to stop me? You in your silly Halloween costume,” he said.

  I closed my legs around Hashtag and walked him in front of the horrible man with the gun. I placed him between the hunter and the hunted.

  “If you are going to shoot that bear, you are going to have to go through me first.”

  “The bear is in the tree.” Mr. Eastford laughed. “I can just shoot it right over your head.”

  “And when your gunshot scares my horse and he bolts or rears and hurts me? Then what?”

  “Then you’ll just be an accident out in the woods and no one will be any the wiser,” Mr. Eastford said. “They won’t even know I was here.”

  “You can’t do this,” I said. “Please don’t do this.”

  But you couldn’t reason with a man like Mr. Eastford, a man who was used to getting his own way all the time. A man who thought he owned the whole world and all the creatures in it and who was going to do whatever he wanted with them. Who would probably turn my bear into a rug for his living room.

  He raised his gun and I closed my eyes. No matter what he said, I wasn’t going to move. I couldn’t. I’d promised to protect the bear and I was going to stand my ground and stand up for her because stranded up in that tree, she couldn’t protect herself and when I heard him raise the rifle and then fire, I thought maybe I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE

  It all happened so fast. The gun went off, hitting the trunk of the tree behind us and sending the bear scampering higher. Hashtag reared, striking out at the man who had basically tried to kill us. His steel hooves touched down and then he was back up on his hind feet again, lashing out at the man with the rifle. Mr. Eastford stumbled backwards, tripping over a root and falling. His gun went off again and this time he let out a bellowing howl. He’d just shot himself in the foot.

  “I’m going to kill you girl,” he slurred through the pain, pointing the gun at me.

  “No you won’t.”

  It was my father on Canterbury, galloping up to us with his cell phone in one hand and the reins in the other. “I’ve already called the police. You are trespassing on private property, illegally attempting to shoot a bear and I’m pretty sure you just threatened to kill my daughter. Did he do that?” Dad looked at me.

  I nodded, unable to speak. My heart was pounding a million miles a minute and I was crying. All I could do was pat Hashtag on the neck and thank him for saving me. Eventually Dad pulled me away, telling me that everything was going to be okay but I couldn’t stop shaking. He sat me on a tree stump while we waited for the cops and the ambulance that Mr. Eastford had screamed for. It kind of served him right. He wasn’t a hunter. He was just a bully. He got what was coming to him.

  The police took ages because they had to trek through the woods to get to us but they could clearly see what had happened. And as though to prove our point as my father explained what had happened, the two bear cubs peeked out from the bushes.

  “See,” I said, still trying not to cry. “She has babies. He’s not allowed to shoot her.”

  It didn’t really matter though. Mr. Eastford wasn’t in any fit state to shoot anything. Blood was still gushing from his foot as they loaded him up on a stretcher and he was moaning in pain but I didn’t feel sorry for him. Not one bit.

  “You’ll have to make a statement.” One of the cops came over and sat down next to me. “Did that man really shoot at you?”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice wavering. “You can see the bullet lodged in the tree over there.”

  They took photos of the bullet and the bears and the blood and then we all left. Dad gave me a leg up and we rode our horses away and as I looked over my shoulder one last time I saw the mother bear slide down the tree. Her cubs jumped on her and she sniffed them both before herding them quickly out of sight. I wasn’t sure if I would ever see her again. If she was smart,
she’d move on and find a new place to live. One where people didn’t think her life had less value than theirs but for now she was safe and that was all that mattered.

  CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

  Everyone back at the barn wanted to know what had happened. They crowded around us as the police left and the ambulance roared away but Dad pulled me into the office and shut the door.

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  “I have to take care of Hashtag,” I said vaguely.

  I felt spacey and out of it. Like the world wasn’t real. Like everything that had just happened had been in a dream. I’d been so reckless lately, riding a dangerous horse and now standing in front of a gun. What if Mr. Eastford had shot me? He was right. No one would have known what happened in those woods. It would have been his word against mine. He could have even snuck away unnoticed and left me there to die.

  “Emily,” Dad said again. “Here, sit down.”

  He made me sit on the couch and gave me a mug of hot coffee and one of the Halloween cookies that we’d made.

  “Eat,” he said. “And pray your mother never finds out about this.”

  “Are you mad?” I finally said.

  “Am I mad?” Dad shook his head. “What do you think? My daughter just stood up to a pig headed idiot and protected a bear and her cubs. No I’m not mad. I’m proud of you.”

  He put his arm around me and I started to cry again.

  “Do you think I’m messed up?” I asked him.

  He was quiet for a moment and then said, “I think we’re all messed up. Life messes you up. It’s how you deal with it that counts.”

  “I probably shouldn’t ride in the jumper class later,” I said, blowing my nose on the tissue that he gave me.

  “You think almost getting killed is going to get you out of showing off your talented horses?” he said. “I don’t think so.”