“Most of this we’ll keep for show day,” Esther said. “But I want you to see what competitive showing is all about.”
There were crocheted ear nets and supple breastplates, sheepskin lined boots and snow white saddle pads. I ran my fingers over everything, wishing that trunk was mine. One day I’d have a trunk full of stuff like that but until then, I was over the moon that Esther was willing to share her stuff with me.
“And I want you to use my saddle,” she said. “Those school saddles just don’t fit you and they’re not going to do Harlow’s back any good if we’re going to be working him hard, which we are,” she added.
I thought of Harlow, his bad back and his old leg injury, and suddenly felt horribly guilty.
“Can he do this?” I said. “He’s not too old, is he?”
“Honey,” she said. “He’s not jumping a Grand Prix course. You’re only going two foot six. It won’t kill him, I promise.”
But deep down I still felt like maybe this was going to hurt Harlow in some way and if it did, it would all be my fault.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Mickey showed up at the barn to ride and saw that I was there, she practically tackled me to the ground. I only saved myself by grabbing the cross ties and ended up swinging like a monkey while she hung onto my arm.
"I can't believe you're here," she screamed. "It worked, it really worked."
"I still can't believe that it did. I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up and find out that this was all a dream and I can't ride ever again."
"Well you can and you will and this is going to be awesome. We'll go to the show and win all the ribbons. It's going to be the best time ever."
Mickey was jumping up and down and her words were all running together like they did when she was excited.
"Okay girls, that's enough," Esther called out from the office. "Saddle up. Boot camp starts today."
"Boot camp?" Mickey looked at me and raised her eyebrows.
"Don't ask," I said.
Boot camp turned out to be a set of gymnastic jumps that Esther had set up in the arena. The line of fences stretched down the middle and though they were currently only cross rails, the fact that there was only one stride between them meant that the horses were going to bounce down the line like little bunnies.
"I don't see why we have to do this," Mickey whined. She hated anything that actually made her think when she was riding Hampton.
“Gymnastic exercises are good for the horse and they are good for you guys. Plus, they’re fun,” Esther said. “Now warm up.”
“I don’t think they’re fun,” Mickey mumbled.
When the horses had warmed up, Esther had us pop over a single cross rail a few times. Harlow cantered easily over the tiny fence, his gray ears pricked. It was so good to have him underneath me again. I felt like we could jump the world. But even though Hampton was quite capable of jumping gymnastics, Mickey looked pale.
“Emily, you go first,” Esther said.
I circled Harlow at the end of the ring and then pointed him towards the line, making sure he was straight. He cantered towards the first jump and then took each one after that as easily as the first. One stride between each of the four jumps.
“Nice job,” Esther called out. “Mickey, you’re up.”
Hampton took the line a little slow but made it through. I could see how hard Mickey was trying not to interfere with him.
“Fine,” Esther said. “But he’s going to need more momentum when we raise these up.”
The first fence stayed as a cross rail but Esther made the rest into verticals, starting with the last in the line and sending us through each time until the other three were all about two foot six. Then she made the last one into a double oxer.
Harlow took the line in stride and I closed my leg around him before the last jump so that he stretched over it easily. The gymnastics forced him to rock back and use his hind end and with the elevator bit, he was a lot more responsive to my hand. Mickey didn’t have as much luck. Hampton came lazily down the line and ground to a stop in front of the oxer.
“I told you,” Esther shouted. “I don’t want you interfering with him because he knows what he’s doing but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to ride him at all. Do it again and this time use your leg.”
Mickey looked like she was trying not to cry as she circled Hampton. I felt bad for her. It sucked when Esther got frustrated with us but we all knew she did it because she wanted to make us better riders. She kicked Hampton down the line so fast that this time he was too close to the oxer but he struggled over it anyway, having the rail down in the process.
“That was terrible Mickey,” Esther stomped over and put the rail up. “You have a great horse. When are you going to bring yourself up to his level?”
Mickey didn’t answer.
“You know how too slow felt and now you know how too fast felt. This time get it right.”
The third time was the charm. Mickey rode down the line with a complete look of determination on her face and Hampton popped over the jumps like the pro he was.
“Good,” Esther clapped her hands. “Great job.”
Mickey grinned at me. I knew that feeling. There was nothing like it in the world.
“Mickey, you’re done. Emily, I’m going to raise these up for you.”
She put the jumps up to three foot and then three foot three. Each time we flew over them like the wind. I couldn’t stop smiling. It was awesome. But even I had to admit that by the time the jumps were set at three foot six, they looked a little intimidating.
“I thought we were only jumping two foot six at the show,” I said.
“Jump them. Don’t think about it, just do it,” Esther said.
So we did. As I approached the last jump there was a knot in the pit of my stomach but it wasn’t nerves. It was the fact that I was doing what I loved and I didn’t want to fail. Everyone had rails down sometimes, that was just part of riding. Even when you did everything right it sometimes seemed like the wind would knock them down. But today I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to prove to Esther that I could do this. I felt Harlow reach up underneath me and tuck his legs as we soared over the jump. He came back to me easily and we stopped at the end of the arena.
“Great job,” Esther said, coming up to pat Harlow’s neck. “Really great job.”
She let us cool the horses out on the trail. It was cool underneath the trees and both the horses stretched their heads low. We were all sweaty and hot. Esther had worked us hard.
“I’m glad this is the last show of the season,” Mickey said. “It’s going to be one long hot summer.”
“Agreed,” I said.
But I didn’t mind the heat. Now that I could ride without sneaking around, I had big dreams for the summer. Beach riding and summer evenings at the barn. Helping Esther with the camp kids who came to learn all about horses. The summer stretched out endlessly before me better than any summer ever had. I couldn’t wait. Maybe I’d even ask Esther if I could do some extra work around the barn and she could pay me. Despite what I told Mom about not wanting a horse of my own, deep down I was really hoping that maybe one day I could buy Harlow from Esther.
I leant forward and wrapped my arms around his neck as he walked. He’d really tried hard today. I was going to give him an extra special bath when we got back to the barn and use the liniment. Nothing could happen to him before the show. It would be a disaster.
“How come Esther had you jumping so high?” Mickey asked.
The question was casual but it sounded like she was jealous. Mickey had the money and the expensive stuff and I never wanted to seem conceited but I had the talent and both of us knew it.
“She’s putting me in the jumpers,” I said, trying to sound like it wasn’t a big deal.
“She’s what?” Mickey screeched as Hampton sidestepped a branch.
“She said that Harlow doesn’t stand a chance in the hunters against horses like Hampton,”
I shrugged. “I guess it could be fun.”
“Fun? Fun?” she said. “Have you seen those jumper kids? They’re crazy. The last show I went to, three of them got carted off in an ambulance.”
My blood ran cold and despite the heat, a shiver ran down my spine. Mom had only just agreed to let me ride. Kids being carted off in ambulances was the last thing she needed to see, especially if they were riding in the same class I was.
“Why?” I said. “Show jumping on television doesn’t look that bad.”
“It’s against the clock, that’s why. They ride their horses like their butts are on fire and take chances that they know they really shouldn’t. One kid completely wiped out when their horse missed the water jump.”
“There is a water jump?” I said, suddenly feeling queasy.
“Well, it was a kiddie swimming pool but still, it was a big mess. Most of those kids are crazy. You should stick to the hunters, like me.”
I looked at Mickey with her expensive horse and beautiful tack. Even on a day like today when we were just schooling, she was wearing spotless breeches and a polo shirt with her initials monogrammed on the pocket. She looked like she’d just stepped out of one of the horse magazines. I, on the other hand, was wearing her hand me down breeches that had a stain on the butt where she’d fallen off at a show and a tear in the knee that I’d cobbled together with my first pathetic attempt at sewing. My t-shirt was so faded, I couldn’t even remember what was supposed to be on it and my boots were too tight. The jumpers sounded like they were exactly where I belonged.
Esther made us come every day after school. After a week, we were jumping the line of gymnastics without stirrups and then flying over the course that was set up in the field. Even Mickey had improved with five solid days of riding under her belt and no slacking off.
“Think how great we’ll be after a whole summer of riding,” Mickey beamed after Hampton had taken the course and left every rail standing.
“Exactly,” I laughed.
Mom was being supportive, in an absentee parent sort of way. She dropped me off at the barn and picked me up but she didn’t like to hear too much about my lessons and she certainly didn’t want to hear if I had fallen off, which I hadn’t but I had in the past. Everyone fell off at some point. That was just part of riding. It was learning to dust yourself off and get back on that was the important thing. Except for people like Summer, they didn’t get to dust themselves off at all.
She was always in the back of my mind when I rode. Was she better than me? Would she have done that course differently? In my mind she was the perfect rider. I held her up to a standard that I could never compare to and I wished she was still here so she could tell me what to do when Harlow evaded my leg or didn’t listen to my half-halts.
Mickey wasn’t any help. After every course she cheered and told me I’d done a great job, even if I knew I really hadn’t. But she was still my best friend and I loved her for her infectious enthusiasm. I snuck sandwiches out of the house in the morning to eat at school and saved up my lunch money instead. At the end of the week, I went back to the mall and bought that horseshoe necklace for her to wear at the show. She’d need all the help she could get. I thought her nerves during lessons were bad enough but with the show fast approaching they were worse than ever.
“I hate show day,” she said. “It’s the worst day ever. I always feel like I have a million bricks in my stomach and I want to throw up but I can’t.”
I just nodded my sympathy but I couldn’t help thinking she was entirely wrong. Show day was the best day in the whole world. It was the day I’d been waiting my whole life for and this time, I wasn’t going to let anybody down.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The day before the show, Mickey and I dashed to the barn after school. We had horses to bathe and braid and a mountain of tack to clean. I’d managed to drag my grades up by the skin of my teeth but they still weren’t back to where they had been. There was only two weeks left before summer break and I dreaded the day that my report card would come in the mail and Mom would see how riding had ruined my school work. But I didn’t have time to think about that now. I would just have to deal with it after the show.
Harlow and I had become more of a team than ever over the past week. It was like he knew what I was thinking before I even asked him to do it. Sometimes I couldn’t even tell where he ended and I began.
“I brought sandwiches,” Mickey grinned, tossing a couple of plastic bags up in the air. “And chips!”
“How about carrots?” I said.
Hampton was not a big fan of having his mane braided and since Mickey wasn’t very good at it either, it usually took a lot of bribes and still ended in tears.
“No,” she said, her face falling. “I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I brought extra.”
We took turns in the wash rack, covering our horses in bubbles and then rinsing them clean. It took twice as long to get the manure stains out of Harlow’s coat because he was gray, even though I used the whitening shampoo that stained my fingers blue.
“You’d better not lay down in your poop tonight,” I told him, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
Esther produced a thin scrim sheet to throw over him. It was too hot for anything else but at least it would help if he ignored my warning and took a nap in a big pile of manure, as he was known to do.
By the time Mickey and I finished we had two gleaming horses with button braids running down their necks and dirt stains up and down our arms and legs. We may have been tired but it was a good kind of tired. The sort where you know it is in preparation for something really special.
“Don’t stay up all night talking girls,” Esther called out as we left the barn. “And I expect you here at five in the morning.”
“Okay,” we called back as we walked out arm in arm.
Mom had agreed that it would be easier for everyone if I spent the night at Mickey’s house, then her Mom could take us to the barn in the morning. She hadn’t decided if she was going to come to the show or not. She wasn’t sure if she could stomach it. I told her that I didn’t mind. That it was okay if she didn’t come and that it was enough that she had agreed to let me ride in the first place. I hugged her and tried to blink back the tears so that she wouldn’t see them. I still had a memory of her and Dad at the rail, cheering on Summer as she won her last class. I wanted that too. But those days were gone. This was all I had and I was going to be happy that I at least had the chance to prove myself once and for all.
Mickey’s Mom ordered pizza and we spent the night up in her room watching horse movies. They were all so bad, we couldn’t help but make fun of them and soon we were rolling on the floor in fits of giggles.
“But Damien, my horse must win the gold cup,” Mickey squealed, imitating the girl in the movie who had long flowing hair and a plow horse that she’d rescued and turned into a show jumper.
“I’m sure he will,” I jumped up, pretending to be the boy she had a crush on. “He only jumps for you and your ginormous bag of carrots.”
In the movie, the horse won by jumping over a six foot wall that all of the other horses refused. At the end, she held the gold cup over her head and lavished the horse with kisses, even though we could tell it was a completely different horse than the one she had rescued at the start of the movie. This one had a white star on its face that the director had tried to cover up with black shoe polish. She sobbed as they handed her a giant check and gulped back the tears as she said the money would go towards rescuing more horses.
“I’d like to thank horses of the world, everywhere,” Mickey choked back a laugh and tumbled onto her bed, quoting the last line of the movie.
I fell onto the pillow on the floor, still laughing.
“Would you do that?” Mickey asked. “Give away the money?”
I thought for a moment and even though it seemed selfish, I told her the truth.
“No,” I said. “I’d use it to buy
a horse.”
“Exactly,” Mickey leant on one elbow. “If I won, I’d give it to you so that you could buy a horse too.”
I was so glad that I finally had my best friend back and the fact that we were both riding in the show tomorrow was just icing on the cake. I still had the necklace in my bag. I couldn’t wait to surprise Mickey with it tomorrow at the show.
Mickey fell asleep sometime after midnight. I lay on the floor in her sleeping bag, surrounded by ribbons she had won and the horse posters that filled the walls. I imagined the jumps that would be at the show tomorrow and I rode them in my mind, checking Harlow to add a stride and then pushing him on. Every time we jumped clean. And when I finally fell asleep, I dreamt that Harlow jumped the six foot wall and we were handed the giant check instead of the girl with the flowing hair.
I woke to the sound of rain tapping against the window. It couldn’t be, could it? The clock said four. Time to get up. I threw a pillow at Mickey.
“Wake up,” I said. “It’s raining.”
“It can’t be,” she mumbled. “It never rains on show day. It’s against the rules.”
“Well I guess the weather man didn’t get the memo,” I grumbled.
I’d imagined my first show day over and over and every time the sun had been shining and the birds singing. There had been just enough clouds in the sky that I could see the jumps without being blinded and there was a gentle breeze to cool the sweat on my horse’s neck. Not once had I ever imagined that the weather could be horrible.
“Maybe they’ll call off the show?” Mickey said hopefully.
“Maybe not,” I said.
Shows took a lot to organize and people had already paid their entry fees. They weren’t likely to cancel just because of a little rain. But rain on show day didn’t just make for bad footing. It meant slick tack and even slicker horses who were grumpy about the rain lashing against their face and the mud splashing up their legs. Rails came down in the rain a lot easier than on a fair day, everyone knew that.
Mickey’s Mom was in the kitchen making scrambled eggs. Apparently it was a show day tradition. I felt less like eating than ever but smiled and forced it down because otherwise it would have seemed rude. She had on trim jeans and a white shirt while her brown hair was pulled back in a silver horse head clip. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealously that it wasn’t my own mother at the stove, making me breakfast and preparing for the show day ahead.
Secret Rider (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 1) Page 8
