by Vicki Blue
He smiled to himself. It had been a while since he’d come across a woman who piqued his interest. Darby was a dominant man, and nothing gave him more pleasure than to take a strong-willed female and awaken the submissive within. It was always the smart, acerbic ones who secretly harbored a soft, subservient side yearning to be discovered.
It was just a bonus that Gigi DeVane was an accomplished horsewoman. Riders were generally passionate, and one with a body like Gigi would be a treat. He smiled to himself. He’d known as soon as she’d walked in the door that he’d hire her. She thought she was there to instruct kids, but in the end she’d be the one getting the instruction. But she’d find that out soon enough.
II
Gigi found out the next morning that Malcolm Darby hadn’t been exaggerating about Bart. The huge gray was as strong and forward as any horse she’d ever ridden. His hoofbeats echoed around the huge indoor arena as she cantered him on the rail. Big Bart tossed his head and tried twice to speed up and veer towards the jumps. Each time Gigi pulled him up and made him back up. Finally she put him into a series of figure eights and that did the trick. Bored by the exercises, he decided that doing what was required of him was easier than trying to get his own way. He dropped his head, pushing his nose down to find the contact with Gigi’s hands.
“Good boy,” she said, pulling him up and patting. The horse looked back. His mouth was lathered at the corners of the bit and he was chewing, a sign of submission. She allowed him to go over a few fences then, and then a course. The horse’s expression was bold but he kept an easy pace under her practiced hand.
“Very good boy…”
“Good rider.” Malcolm Darby stepped from the shadows at the corner of the arena.
“Thanks,” she said. “He’s fun, but you’re right. What an ox.”
“He just thinks he’s strong,” Malcolm said, walking over and patting the horse’s neck. “He thinks he wants to be in control when really all he’s looking for is someone with a firm enough hand to show him who’s boss.”
“Yeah, animals can be simple like that,” Gigi said, dismounting.
“People can be simple like that, too. I’ve found that humans aren’t that different. A defiant spirit is one calling out for someone to tame it.”
Gigi raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, but I disagree. A defiant human spirit is looking to break free of oppression; it’s not looking for it.”
“Who said anything about oppression?” He smiled at her. It was the first time he’d done that and Gigi was struck by how incredibly handsome and tall he was. But she’d always found men in riding attire a bit severe looking, even when she was big in the show world. The guys who rode at the community barn mostly wore jeans and plaid shirts and boots. None of them took themselves too seriously and while she wasn’t about to say there wasn’t a chauvinist among them, most of them seemed pretty laid back and respectful.
She excused herself and went to saddle up Jackson. He was everything she expected - calm, quiet and push button. He was the kind of horse a student could drop her reins, and she did, guiding him directly off leg pressure. She was impressed. Few horses were so well-trained.
Mastermind was the last horse she rode. He tested her in the cross-ties, pawing as she groomed and tacked him. There was a groom at the stable, a short Hispanic man who used to be a jockey in Florida. He seemed flattered when Gigi recognized his name, having followed horse racing for some time. He offered to brush and tack the horses, but she told him she wanted to do it herself, that it was part of getting to know them.
Mastermind was full of energy, but again she quickly got the best of him. He settled down even faster than Bart and over fences was beautiful - almost as beautiful, she decided, as Wingman. She looked around as she dismounted. She could see him here - her horse. The footing in the ring was amazing; she missed riding her big guy in a place like this. But it would mean leaving Casey stuck where she was and Gigi could not do that.
Outside of Mastermind’s stall she found a folder with her name on it. Inside was a list of the campers. At the bottom was one name written in red - Marissa Johnson. Beside it were the words “scholarship student.” Gigi instantly recognized the name. Marissa was a quiet girl who rode at her barn. Her mother was a librarian and Marissa had no horse of her own but leased one two days a week. She rode in some local schooling shows and had always placed well. She was also one of the nicest kids Gigi had ever met. She asked Malcolm Darby about it when she caught him coming through the barn.
“Yes, we have one every year. Our camp is expensive so we send out notices on the local equestrian Internet groups offering a scholarship slot to the winner of our essay contest. This Marissa girl won.”
“I know her,” Gigi said. “She’s a great kid.”
“Well, don’t treat her any different than the others,” he said.
Gigi felt anger well up in her chest. She knew what he meant; he was warning her not to give Marissa any special treatment over the little golden children whose parents could afford to send them to the camp.
“I don’t plan to,” she said icily. “All the kids here will be treated the same. All of them.”
She turned and walked away. “Strike two,” she thought. “What a jerk.”
An hour later the campers began to arrive. It was clear that all the girls in her young teen group knew each other. They embraced and giggled, except for one. Marissa entered the barn, looking with wide-eyed wonder at the rows of stalls and grand horses. She smiled when she spotted Gigi.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Gigi pointed at the logo just over her left breast. “I’m working here, at least for the summer. Gotta keep Wingman fed.”
Marissa’s face fell. “Are you leaving the community barn?”
“Oh heck no,” she said. “Like I’d leave my buddies. Pfft.” She smiled. “And now we can see each other here and there.”
She called the girls around and introduced herself, and then encouraged them to make introductions and to tell the rest of the campers a little something to help them get to know one another a little better.
“I’ll start!” A thin girl with a heart-shaped face and long wavy hair stepped forward. “My name is Megan Pierce-Sellers!” she said, “as if everyone here doesn’t know that. I’m a sophomore at Sacred Heart Academy, I’m head of the cheerleading squad - Go Lions! - and I’ve been riding here at Claremont since it opened. I used to ride at Brownstone Stables, but Mommy and Daddy thought I’d go further here so they bought Rameus for me and I got three firsts and a second at the regionals last month!”
She looked at Gigi. “Rameus was $80,000.” She sat down, looking satisfied as the other girls clapped. They all went one after another, telling a little about themselves. They were all wealthy and all boarded or trained at Claremont. When it was time for Marissa to speak, she just shrugged.
“I don’t have much to say.
“Sure you do,” Gigi said.
“I’m, um, Marissa Johnson. I board at the community barn. I don’t have a horse. I ride a lesson horse named Dexter.”
One of the girls’ sniggered.
“Is there a problem?” Gigi asked.
“No ma’am,” Megan said. Gigi nodded for Marissa to go on.
“I just started showing at the Mecklenburg Equestrian Park. Dexter and I did really well.”
Megan and two of the other girls giggled again.
Gigi stepped forward. “This is the second time I’ve had to call you down for interrupting your fellow camper,” she said.
“You mean the scholarship kid?” The girls snorted at the statement, which Megan had made under her breath but was loud enough for Gigi to catch. Marissa hung her head and didn’t say anything.
“Megan, just so you know, I ride at the community stable too,” Gigi said. “My horse is boarded there. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? His name is Wingman.” She reached down and picked up an old issue of Practical Horseman. She’d planned to show it to the gir
ls after the lesson. It featured an article about her horse winning a prestigious three-day event. She held it up for them to see.
“He’s not at the community stable!” Megan said, glancing at her friends for support.
“Wow! Is that you?” A girl named Stacey was peering at the photo. “That’s awesome!”
“Thanks,” Megan said. “And Wingman is there. Marissa’s even ridden him.”
Marissa was smiling now. “But only at a walk.”
“That’s because he’s probably lame now,” Megan said.
“He’s not lame.” Malcolm Darby had been standing in the doorway, watching. Gigi had not even seen him there. “He’s perfectly fine, Megan. Don’t be rude.” His eyes scanned the group. “And this is enough talk anyway. Let’s get out there and start.”
The girls filed out obediently.
“What an insufferable snob,” Gigi said, shaking her head.
“She is,” Darby replied. “But just remember; this is a riding academy, not a charm school. Leave the moral education to the parents. If she gets too rude, though, I want you to send her to me.”
The comment left her fuming. It was clear to Gigi that Malcolm Darby didn’t care how a scholarship student was treated by the parents of his rich clients. And telling her to send Megan to him? What a joke. He wouldn’t do anything.
Gigi concentrated on tacking the horses and getting the girls ready to ride. Megan made an instant beeline for Big Bart and took the reins from Marissa, even though she’d been assigned to another horse.
“I’m riding this one,” she said nastily.
“No you’re not,” Gigi said. “I’ve made the assignments and Bart is for the advanced intermediate riders. I’ve looked at all the instructor notes. You’re intermediate, Megan. You’ll be riding the horse you helped tack.”
“I don’t want to ride Mastermind!” she said. “I ride him in lessons. He’s boring. Mommy said she talked to Mr. Darby and he said I could ride Bart.
“Well, he didn’t say anything to me,” Gigi said. “Go back with your group.” She took the reins from Megan and handed them back to Marissa. “NOW!”
Megan scurried back, pulling her cell phone out as she did. She began dialing. Gigi could hear her whining into the phone and obviously being reassured judging by the smug looks the girl was shooting in her direction.
In the ring, she had one girl from each group mount their horses. “Emma,” you’re on Jackson. Valerie, you’re up on Bart and Laura is on Mastermind. Everyone else sit and wait your turn.”
The girls filed the horses into the ring as Gigi instructed them to start on the rail at a walk. She had them do some basic exercises before splitting them into separate exercises based on their skill levels. Claremont had their own manual for the program, but she tweaked some of the drills to make them more fun, and the girls did seem to be enjoying themselves. But when it was time to switch out horses she could tell that something was wrong with Marissa. She had tears in her eyes.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I dunno,” she said quietly. “Maybe coming here was a mistake.”
“Why?”
“I just thought it would be different.” She sighed.
“Was something said to you?”
“I don’t want to be a tattler,” Marissa said. “It’ll just make things worse.”
“Marissa,” I need to know.
“The other girls said I don’t belong. That blonde girl, Megan, she started telling them that I wasn’t ‘their kind.’ Whatever…”
“Whatever is right.” Gigi was at her wit’s end. “Don’t worry about it. You’re staying. Here. Mount up.” She was holding Bart and Marissa climbed on. But when it came time for Megan to get on Mastermind, she refused.
“I told you,” she said. “I’m riding Bart.” The other rider had already mounted Jackson.
“Fine,” Gigi said. “Ellen can go again.
“No! Put Ellen on Mastermind! I’m riding Bart! I’m the best rider here! Everyone knows it!” She was almost in tantrum mode. Gigi wanted to slap her.
“What’s going on?” Malcolm Darby was striding through the ring.
“Mr. Darby!” Megan ran to him, pointing at Gigi as if she were some sort of threat. “The counselor won’t let me ride Bart! And Daddy told me you said I could.”
Malcolm sighed. “Calm down, Megan.” He approached Gigi. “The fault is mine. I did tell Mr. Pierce she could ride Bart.”
“She’s not ready for Bart,” Gigi said.
“She’ll be fine,” Darby said.
Gigi looked at the girls. “Would you excuse me? I’d like a word with Mr. Darby in private.”
She led him to another part of the ring.
“Is there some reason that you’re deliberately undermining my authority as counselor?” she asked. “Megan has been nothing but rude since she got here. I was told to look at the girls’ riding notes and assign them horses. If she wants to ride Bart then take it up with her instructor.”
“I think she wants to ride him in front of her friends, Gigi.”
“I don’t care about that,” she said. “For the purposes of my lessons she needs to be on a horse that’s suited for her, and that is not Bart!”
“And this has nothing to do with her - what did you call it - ‘snobbish’ behavior?”
“And are you sure that your decision doesn’t have something to do with your kissing her ass because her father’s rich?” The words were out before Gigi could stop them, but she didn’t care. “Jesus…this is why I left barns like this. People like you turn these kids into monsters.”
“To the contrary, Gigi,” he said quietly. “I don’t tolerate this and I told you that if Megan was rude you could send her to me and I’d handle it. And believe me, I am quite capable of nipping attitude problems in the bud.”
“Yeah, right,” she said, rolling her eyes. She could tell her insolence was making him mad, but she did not care.
“I’m the boss here, Gigi. You’re soon going to realize that. For now, Megan will ride Bart.”
“Not today,” she said. “The lessons are already under way. She can ride him tomorrow, or you can be without an instructor.”
“That’s how you’re going to play this?” he asked.
“That’s exactly how I’m going to play this.”
The stared at each other. Malcolm Darby glanced over her head. “Megan!” he called. She strode over, texting as she walked.
“Huh?” she asked. He took the cell phone from her.
“First of all, no phones in class. Everyone else knew the rule, you should have, too. So I’ll keep this until you’re finished. Second, you will be riding Bart, but not today.”
“But I want to ride him now!” She stomped her foot.
“It’s tomorrow or not at all, understand?”
“WhatEVER!” she said, turning to stomp away.
“Yeah, these are some great characters you guys are building here,” Gigi said, shaking her head in disgust.
She fumed the rest of the day, although she didn’t show it to her students. Megan was a good rider, but definitely an intermediate. But that did not stop her from criticizing the other students non-stop, even when it meant interrupting Gigi. At the end of the day she made a great show of reminding Gigi that she expected to be the first one on Bart the following day. Gigi left wishing she’d never taken the job.
At the community barn, she rode Wingman in the outside ring, even though there was a light drizzle. She needed time with him, time away from the pretentious, self-important boarders at Claremont. Gigi wished she’d had a dollar every time one of them asked why someone of her caliber was at that awful community barn. She wanted to tell them that they should look in the mirror if they wanted an answer.
Marissa didn’t come out to ride. She’d been all but shunned by the other students, and Gigi felt that she was probably depressed. She confided in Casey as they rode.
“So are you going to stick it out?” Ca
sey asked.
“I have to,” Gigi said. “It’s local and the pay is good. But it’s going to be a rough summer. Those kids are brats, and my boss…he’s just that. Bossy. And arrogant.”
“Yeah, but he’s handsome at least,” Casey said. “I saw him ride at the hunter’s pace. He’s gorgeous.”
“Looks aren’t everything.” She stopped and patted Wingman’s neck. “He’s got this…authoritarian thing going. I’m not digging it.”
