Young Riders (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 16)
Page 10
As we galloped down to the last fence, the yellow and white plank resting on flat cups, I knew we had it in the bag. If Andy went faster and clean then he was the better rider with the better horse because Encore couldn’t have done any better than he just did. He’d given me his all and as we walked out of the ring I let the reins fall loose on his neck and gave him big giant pats.
“Good boy,” I told him.
“Oh whoop de doo,” Tara said.
Becka looked at me and didn’t say anything but I thought I saw something on her face. A look that said she now knew that she’d picked the wrong side. By joining forces with Tara she’d only alienated herself both from me and from learning everything she could at the clinic. She’d been so busy being mean that she’d missed all the learning opportunities that the clinic had to offer and now, just like I had for Jess, I felt sorry for her.
“Good luck Andy,” Alice called out.
But Andy didn’t need luck. He was good and so was his horse. They flew around the course and he didn’t think twice about his position. He was only focused on winning and as a result they kept all the rails up, finishing the course three whole seconds faster than we had.
“Congratulations,” I told him as he came out of the ring grinning and I meant it.
If I’d had Bluebird I knew we would have beaten him and Mousse but I didn’t and I’d made the best of the situation that I was dealt. I knew that I wouldn’t always have my pony to ride. Even if I kept him forever there would still come a day in the hopefully very distant future where he would have to be retired and I’d ride other horses. I had to find a way to make that work. And the clinic had shown me that I could ride other horses without falling apart and that made me proud, even if I did now have to clean all Andy’s tack.
“Well done,” Hunter said, striding over with a clipboard in his hands. “Nice riding you two.”
“Thank you,” Andy and I both replied.
“We’ll announce the winner at dinner. I have to confer with my two co-judges first.” He pointed at Leslie and Gatsby.
“Confer?” I said. “But Andy won. He was faster than I was.”
“I told you that it wasn’t all about speed this time,” Hunter said, winking at me.
“Will Gatsby be staying for dinner?” Tara asked excitedly.
“I suppose he might,” Hunter said.
And while they were all arguing over who was going to sit next to the hottest male rider this side of the Atlantic, I was trying to figure out if Hunter was going to make me the winner so that I wouldn’t tell my father what I’d heard and how awful that would be because it would crush Andy.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
Apparently what you wore to a dinner with a hot rider like Gatsby Pine was more important than what he actually thought about your riding skills, at least according to Tara and Becka.
“They are so shallow,” Alice whispered as we stood there looking at the mess that was our room.
It was like a tornado had swept through it or a clothes bomb had gone off. There were breeches hanging over all the beds and shirts on the floor. Tara was trying to wiggle into a dress that was at least three sizes too small and Becka had on the shortest skirt that I’d ever seen in the history of skirts. In fact I wasn’t even sure it was a skirt. It looked more like a tube top.
“She’d better hope she doesn’t have to bend over to pick anything up,” Alice said, raising an eyebrow. “Or Gatsby is going to get a full view of her underwear.”
“I don’t think she’s wearing any,” I said.
“Gross,” Alice replied.
The two of us settled on what we thought was professional young rider attire. Clean jeans and our white show shirts. Alice had a pearl necklace that she put on and I had my lucky horseshoe bracelet that Jordan had given me last year. I fingered the silver almost wishing he was here so that we could have a good laugh about everything that had happened. He always made me feel better about myself.
Alice looped her arm through mine. “Ready?” she said.
“Ready.” I nodded.
We made our way to the dining room where Mrs. Morrison had set up the big table with a white table cloth and candles. There was silver cutlery and fancy name tags to tell us where to sit. To my horror I found that I was actually going to be sandwiched in-between Hunter and Gatsby.
“Tara is going to kill you for that spot,” Alice said.
“I don’t care. She can have it.”
I didn’t want to sit next to Hunter. The shiny image I’d had of him when I first came to Gray Gables had been tarnished. He wasn’t the upstanding top rider that I thought he was and I was starting to wonder if there really were any at all. Did everyone wheel and deal behind the scenes, trying to get away with whatever they could without being caught? Weren’t there any honest top professionals out there?
“Do you think they’ll notice if I switch the tags?” I asked Alice hopefully.
“Someone wanted you to sit there,” she said.
But I couldn’t figure out why Hunter would want that. He’d spent most of the clinic avoiding me in private and then throwing undeserved praise my way in front of the others. Wasn’t sitting right next to me at a dinner where it would be easy enough to have a semi private conversation asking for trouble?
“I’ll ask Mrs. Morrison if I can sit somewhere else,” I said.
But Mrs. Morrison was in the kitchen, up to her eyeballs in boiling pots and pans and when I asked her, she brushed me away with a wave of her hand.
“I didn’t plan the seating arrangements,” she said. “And that means I can’t change them.”
Which also meant that Hunter Preston actually wanted to sit next to me. But why?
CHAPTER FORTY
The dinner was the fanciest thing that I’d ever been to in my whole entire life. There were more forks and spoons than I knew what to do with and crystal glasses that were filled with wine, well our trainers had their glasses filled with wine. Ours were filled with water and slices of lemon, much to Tara’s disappointment.
“My father lets me drink at home,” she said loudly but no one was listening.
Hunter was telling us stories about the rivalry on the team when he rode in the last Olympics and Gatsby, who’d had far too much wine, was in hysterics as he regaled us with the tale of how his breeches spit open in the Cardinal Classic just as he was flying through the triple combination.
It was funny to come to the realization that adult conversations were sometimes just as dumb and stupid as ours were. Leslie told us about her first pony, who would sit down when he decided that he didn’t want to jump anymore, even if she was on his back in the middle of a class. We listened to their funny stories and I soaked it all in, thinking how wonderful it was to be surrounded by horse people all the time. My mother would have never thought it was amusing that someone’s breeches split while they were riding but we could all see the funny side and all harbored the secret hope that it would never happen to us.
We were on the dessert course, a berry tart that Mrs. Morrison had made herself, when Hunter cleared his throat and leaned a little closer to me.
“I want you to know that I thought you rode very well today,” he said, his voice low so that the others couldn’t hear.
“Thank you,” I said.
I didn’t know what else to say. It would have been the perfect chance to ask him if he’d had anything to do with the predicament that my father now found himself in but what was he going to say? Yes? That was never going to happen and I knew that now. There was never going to be any evidence that I could take home to my father and the best I could hope for was that the committee realized they were making a horrible mistake.
“I know your father you know,” he carried on.
“Oh?” I said, shoveling another fork full of berry tart into my mouth so that I wouldn’t say anything stupid.
“He’s a good man,” Hunter said. “And a good rider.”
“Yes he is,” I said.
/>
“I want you to know that I’d never do anything to ruin that for him.”
“Are you sure?” I said, surprised at how steady my voice was when inside I was shaking like a leaf.
“Absolutely,” he said.
And that was the end of it. We finished our meal amid giggles from Tara and Becka, who were trying to outdo one another in the flirting department. Gatsby seemed flattered but much more interested in Leslie than in them, which was a relief to everyone but mostly to Mrs. Morrison who considered herself our chaperone and obviously would have been mortified if the flirting went any further than silly school girl smiles.
“So,” Hunter said, standing up and tapping his fork against his glass to silence everyone. “Should we retire to the lounge? I believe we have some awards to give out.”
Everyone cheered. Andy looked at me and gave a nervous smile. He knew that it was just between us. One of us would walk away with a blue ribbon and a place in the Talent Scout Series but I knew that there would be other times to qualify. It wasn’t the end of the world. It never really had been.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
They stood in front of us, the three trainers who had been kind enough to teach us. They all had different strengths and weaknesses and as such we had learned much more than we would have from just one trainer. I was learning that it was what riding was all about really. Taking what the best trainers had to offer and using what you thought fit in with your riding style while disregarding the rest. No one had all the answers. There wasn’t only one road to victory. Greatness couldn’t be copied. You had to follow your own path.
“It’s been a great week,” Hunter said. “And you have all ridden well. Some better than others.” He glanced at Tara. “But in the end I think you’ll all walk away better riders than you were when you came.”
Leslie and Gatsby nodded and everyone clapped.
“But we all know there can only be one winner. Today we held a competition where you were not only going to be judged on speed and accuracy but also on your style. And it turns out that it wasn’t as easy to judge as we thought it was going to be.”
We all laughed. I glanced at Andy but he was staring straight ahead, looking nervous.
“Andy. Emily. Why don’t you both come up here?”
We went and stood next to Hunter and everyone clapped again.
“Andy, if this was a regular competition, the blue ribbon would have been yours. Emily, I know if you’d had your pony here you would have won instead. But we have to deal with the hand that fate gives us and today, it turns out, is a lucky day for both of you.”
Andy looked at me and I just shrugged.
“Bring out the ribbons,” Hunter cried.
Mrs. Morrison came into the room with two blue ribbons on a silver tray.
“Today,” Hunter said. “You are both winners.”
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
My ribbon felt like a consolation prize. I hadn’t won the class therefore I hadn’t really won but I couldn’t exactly refuse the ribbon. Hunter said that my position had been text book perfect, which I doubted very much but I took my ribbon and stood next to Andy, who had a grin that stretched from ear to ear and I was glad. We took our certificates that said we would both qualify for the Talent Scout series and that was that.
The others clapped but I knew they were disappointed. We’d all come to win and not everyone could. That was just the way it went.
“I knew you’d win,” Andy said.
“I knew you’d win,” I replied.
“It’s not really fair to have two winners,” Tara said. “Why don’t you just make us all winners if that is the way it is going to be?”
But everyone just ignored her.
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
We packed our bags that night ready to leave early in the morning. I still hadn’t heard from my father or Missy. I’d texted them both but neither had replied. I hated to fear the worst but it really did seem like no news was bad news.
“I’m glad you won,” Becka said when Tara was in the bathroom. “I knew you would.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But can I ask you something?”
“I guess.” She shrugged.
“What happened to us?” I said.
I’d wanted to ask her ever since I got to the clinic but the words had been stuck in my throat. It felt weird asking someone why they didn’t like you anymore and did they really need to have a reason anyway?
“People change I guess,” she said. “We don’t have as much in common as we once did.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I replied. “But maybe we could be sort of friends again?”
“Whatever. If you want,” she said, looking at the floor instead of at me.
Tara came back into the room, loudly complaining about the lack of hot water in the shower and the moment passed. Becka backed away from me like I had a bad smell and I knew that no matter what she said, we would never really be friends again. That moment in time when we had been pony lovers and show jumping mad had passed, at least for one of us anyway. She’d said that people changed but I didn’t think I had changed at all. She was the one who had changed.
And that night as I lay in bed, clutching my phone to my chest so that I would know the moment someone told me what was going on, I thought about Mickey. If she hadn’t fallen in love with dressage she might have given up riding. We wouldn’t have our rides on the trail or the time we spent hanging out in the tack room. And it was one more thing I had to be grateful for because if I didn’t have my best friend then I knew I would have felt more alone than ever.
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
The Fox Run trailer was the first one to arrive the next morning. When I didn’t hear from my father, I’d texted Henry and asked him to pick me up extra early. At least he’d replied that of course he would be happy to.
Encore had his shipping boots on and his fuzzy halter, standing there like every bit the champion he was. I was almost sad to take him home because I knew when I did it wouldn’t be long before someone bought him. He was never meant to be a horse for me. He was at Fox Run to find a new home and in a short space of time we’d turned him from a scruffy looking horse into the amazing jumper that I’d soon found out that he was.
Andy and Alice hugged me.
“Promise you’ll stay in touch,” Alice said.
“And that you’ll let us know how Bluebird is,” Andy added.
“I will,” I said. “And I still have to clean your tack one day.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We both won, remember?”
“Not really,” I said. “You were the real winner.”
Becka and Tara were still up at the house packing their bags. I wasn’t sad. I didn’t need to say goodbye to them. I’d held out the olive branch to Becka last night and though she’d taken it I was pretty sure that she snapped it when I wasn’t looking. She hardly even looked at me as I made my bed for the last time and left the room. That friendship was over and I was never going to get it back but I’d made two new friends instead and they were the ones I cared about now as we all hugged each other tight.
“I’ll see you at the next show,” Alice said.
“You can count on it,” I replied.
“I’ll beat you at the next show,” Andy said with a grin.
Henry pulled the trailer up to the back of the barn and got out. It was such a relief to see his weathered, familiar face.
“All ready to go?” he said.
“Definitely.”
I took one last look at Gray Gables as Henry took Encore from me and loaded him into the trailer. I’d come with expectations. Such hopes and dreams and the clinic had turned out to be nothing like I thought it would be. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure what I thought about that. In fact the only thoughts in my mind now were getting home to my horses and my father and making sure that everything hadn’t fallen apart in the week while I was gone.
CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
Henry didn’t talk
much on the way back. Not that he was much of a talker to start with. I’d asked him if everything was okay back home and he’d said that yes everything was fine. I’d pressed him for information, asking if he was the one who’d wrapped Bluebird’s legs every day and whether or not he’d noticed if Arion was eating all his hay. But even then he didn’t elaborate. He just said again that everything was fine and then turned the radio on.
I sat back and listened to the country music that Henry liked, wondering what on earth had gone wrong at Fox Run. Henry was always on my father’s side. I knew he was protecting him but he didn’t have to protect him from me. I was his daughter.
When Fox Run finally came into view I got a little excited flutter in my stomach. My heart had ached for home and my horses all week and I couldn’t wait to see them again. The truck had only just pulled to a stop when I burst out of the door and went running down the barn aisle.
“Bluebird,” I cried heard a nicker in reply.
There he was, my pony with his chestnut head sticking out of the stall, his ears pricked as he saw me running towards him. I pushed open the door and threw my arms around Bluebird’s neck.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I said. “How are your legs?”
He still had standing wraps on and I pulled them off, hoping that I wouldn’t find any horrible surprises underneath. But my fears were unfounded. The cuts were healing and there was no swelling. I could tell that I’d be able to ride him again and I couldn’t wait.
“I have to go and check on Arion now,” I told him as he gobbled up the treat I held out for him.
But Arion wasn’t in his stall. I ran out to the paddocks looking for his sweet gray face and then across to the fields but I couldn’t see him anywhere.