by Toni Mari
As the meeting closed, we were instructed to meet back in the indoor for an informal school together. I motored over to Windsong’s stall, leaving everyone else standing and gabbing in the arena. My movements were jerky. I felt like I had a serious caffeine buzz.
Windsong was pressed against the back of his stall, not eating, ears flicking back and forth spasmodically. I drew up short. He looked exactly like he did that first day I saw him. My heart dropped. I knew it. I knew this was going to be a disaster. I blew out a noisy breath.
“Windsong. C’mere, boy,” I said softly as I lifted his halter from the hook on the door. His ears radar-locked on me, and he swiftly came and stuck his nose through the metal bars. I rubbed the soft velvet on his muzzle, gratified that he came to me despite his trepidation. I slid the door open and slipped him a minty treat from my pocket. He took it roughly in his lips and poked me in the shoulder. He stood in the aisle as I clipped the cross ties to each side of his halter. His shoes made a loud, unearthly racket as he moved back and forth, turning to try to see up and down the aisle.
Rubbing his neck and mumbling reassuring words, I removed his stable sheet and began brushing him. I hoped a massaging groom would soothe him, but he was too wound up for it to work, so I gave up. Since he was essentially clean anyway, I began tacking him up. No easy task, putting a saddle on a moving target. I tightened the girth, put on his Velcro-fastened boots, pulled on my boots and helmet, and prayed that he would lower his head and grab the bits like he did at home. He couldn’t get loose, not here.
A few treats, a few pats, and we were ready, or at least dressed. Mentally ready was another thing. Windsong had turned back into a giraffe, bouncing down the aisle on pogo sticks. I held my whip and gloves in one hand and the reins in the other. I had to jog to keep up with him because little tugs on the reins were having no effect on slowing him down.
I thought I must be the first one ready because I hadn’t noticed anyone else tacking up. Granted, I hadn’t paid much attention, having my hands full with the sleek, black time bomb at the end of my reins.
Windsong turned the corner toward the archway into the arena and blasted forward like a dart out of an air gun. With my arm nearly pulled out of its socket, we flew into the arena with no warning.
“Hey!” someone shrieked, and Windsong reared, lifting me off my feet. I dropped my whip and gloves and grabbed the reins with both hands. He definitely could not get loose, especially not here. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed all my teammates and their horses in various locations around the arena. I was the first one to leave the meeting—how did they all beat me back here?
Alison must have been right at the door when Windsong plunged in. Her gray mare had her head pulled up and back and her front legs were locked as she stopped suddenly at Windsong’s appearance. “Idiot!” Alison’s shrill voice rang out. “Why don’t you let the professional grooms handle that horse, since you obviously can’t.”
The mare, ears laid flat against her skull, poked her bared teeth at Windsong, whose feet had just touched the ground. She whipped around, tail wagging like a traffic cop waving a red flag at a runaway truck, and lashed out with both hind legs. I leapt to the side but still felt the wind from her feet on my cheek. Windsong hopped backward a few steps, and then stood, sides heaving.
Holy crap! Everyone was frozen in place, and Alison’s harsh words echoed in the silence. My face flamed, and I mumbled, “Sorry.” Tugging on Windsong’s stiff, resistant head, I walked straight over to Kate. He followed me with his face practically on my back. Everyone started moving again, but I trembled with adrenaline. “Crap.”
Windsong tried to bang his nose into Kate, but she sidestepped and rubbed his head instead. “Way to make an entrance, Jane.” She smiled.
“I hate this horse sometimes,” I grumbled.
In her usual way, Kate rolled her eyes at me. “C’mon. I’ll hold him while you get on.”
“You ride him. I don’t think my knees will hold me up. I need to sit down.” My limbs were as wobbly as the very first time she made me ride him after I watched him practically dump his trainer and gallop off with Kate.
“Sit on him. You don’t want the others to see you scared, so just get on. He’ll be his normal self once you start working him.” She lifted the reins over his head and positioned him next to the mounting block.
That’s what I was afraid of, his normal self. I blew out a breath, picked up my gloves and whip, and got on.
No matter how nervous I made myself, no matter how crazy Windsong acted, no matter who was watching us or where we were, when my butt hit the saddle and my fingers gripped the reins, I became the rider Kate trained me to be. Although my mind zinged from one nonproductive thought to another, my hands closed over the reins just right, my legs laid against Windsong’s sides softly, my shoulders straightened, and my back absorbed Windsong’s springy, wild energy.
I gathered my reins and began to trot. Shawn fell in next to me. “Good save. You’re a brave girl to be riding him.”
It didn’t sound like he was mocking me, but I checked his face to make sure. He lifted one side of his mouth in a charming half smile, making my knees wobbly again. I missed a beat posting and had to grab the saddle to steady myself. “I guess.”
Alison cantered around the corner, cutting right under Donner’s nose, her expression intent. I sucked in a sharp breath and skidded Windsong to a halt to give Shawn space to get out of the way. He shoved Donner to the wall, spitting out a soft curse. Alison’s lip lifted in a triumphant smile.
I walked Windsong up next to Shawn. “You okay?”
Shaking his head, he said, “Yeah, but I guess I better look where I am going instead of staring at you.” He quirked his eyebrows.
I looked around to see if anyone else could hear us, but no one was close by. “She did that on purpose, you know. You should watch out for her.”
He shook his head again. “Nah. She’s alright, it’s just tight in here. I better get back to work. I’ll catch up with you later.”
I stared at Alison as she glided around the ring. Her eyes connected with mine, and the self-satisfied smile still warped her stark face. She circled, and as she passed me she hissed, “Better watch where you’re going, rookie.”
What was her problem?
It was a difficult ride. Alison crowded me, cutting me off as often as she could, looking straight ahead as if she never saw me. I found myself making tiny circles in the center or pressing tightly against the wall. The trainers had left us on our own for this warm-up ride, so there was no authority nearby to correct Alison. I gave up and slid off Windsong in the middle of the ring. I flinched and dodged Alison as she cantered by, missing me by inches. The gray mare didn’t hesitate, just plunged past me with her ears pinned. I dragged Windsong out the door and back to his stall. What a waste of time. Windsong was even more tense than before that unsettling ride. My feeling of impending doom increased.
We all met in the observation lounge for dinner. My parents had arrived and had filled their plates while they chatted with Kate and Robert. The meal was catered, with fancy finger sandwiches and exotic gourmet side salads, but we ate on paper plates and drank out of plastic cups. Barn haute cuisine.
“Why don’t you let the professional grooms tack up your horse? Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be such a mess all the time,” Melinda said as she picked at the sandwich on her plate.
Yes, this was the Melinda I was used to. She meant to be nice, even though she really was insulting. But that explained how they had all arrived in the arena before me. The grooms had gotten their horses ready.
“Windsong would be worse if a stranger handled him. I’m used to his craziness, it doesn’t bother me,” I lied.
“I’ll help you with him in the morning,” Shawn offered as he sat down next to me on the sofa, his steely thigh pressing against mine. I instantly became conscious of each crunch I made as I chewed. “Donner and I are last in the lineup tomorrow, you ride f
irst.”
I swallowed as quietly as I could. “No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine. I ride at eight in the morning. I plan on getting to the barn by six, feeding him, getting him cleaned and tacked up. You don’t have to get up that early.”
He gave me a meaningful look. “I want to. No problem.”
“You should let the grooms do all that, I’m telling you,” Melinda insisted, narrowing her eyes when Shawn looked at me.
Alison sat on a chair opposite, pretending she wasn’t listening. But her jaw tightened and she rolled her eyes when Shawn patted my knee. She got up and joined her father who was sitting next to Robert.
As I shoved the last mouthful of my sandwich between my lips, I thought about heading out to check on Windsong one last time before getting to bed. But Erica sat down in Alison’s seat, and I was riveted the instant she began to speak. Really, she was just talking to Shawn about Donner, and they chatted about how they had found him and described all the other horses they had gone to look at in the process. Next thing I knew, it was after eleven. I leapt up.
“I had better go check Windsong and head to bed. I gotta get up early.”
“There is a night watchman, and the barn attendants check on all the horses. He’ll be fine. You should just head right to bed, Jane. I want you bright eyed so I can work you hard in your lesson tomorrow,” Erica said with a nod. “Go to bed.”
I hesitated, because I always checked on Windsong when we were in a strange place, but Erica had confidence in the barn staff, so I nodded. “Okay. Goodnight, everyone.” I went straight to my bunk.
#
Chapter Sixteen
“Shit.” Why did I have to oversleep today of all days? It was seven fifteen. I had forty-five minutes to feed Windsong and tack him up. I slammed the grain into a bucket, ripped open the baggie of his supplements, and shook them over the feed. Most went in the bucket. I noticed Windsong was lying down only when I threw the door open to dump the mixture into his feed tub. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, blinked, and then pushed himself up and gave a shake, fluffing his hair and spraying shavings everywhere. He stood in front of his water bucket, eyeing me as I eyed him back.
“Are you okay?” I could see the shine of water glinting in the dim light. He stuck his nose in the grain and took a slow, thoughtful bite.
Hmm, not his usual style. Normally, he paced and dug with his hoof, begging for breakfast. And when he got it, he opened his mouth as big as he could and took a mighty bite. There was hay all over the stall, too. He usually had a voracious appetite, and not a speck of hay would be found in the morning. He did have a very busy and tiring day yesterday. But really, we had done harder things. Then, my heart dropped to my toes. What if he was colicking, like Jet did at the World Games? Jet had died! I lunged into the stall, waving my arms wildly. Windsong threw his head and backed up a step. I unclipped the feed bucket and ran out the door with it.
I fumbled in my pocket for my cell phone and violently poked at the screen to get Kate’s number dialed.
“Kate! I don’t know what to do! Windsong may be colicking. I took away his grain, but he got a bite of it.”
“Shit. I’m on my way. What’s he doing right now?” Her breath puffed into the phone rhythmically with her running footsteps.
I looked into the stall. Windsong was standing in front of his water bucket, ears pointing at me, calm. “Nothing, actually.”
“Good. I’ll be there in a sec.”
I kept watching. He looked in his bucket, nodded, and looked back at me. He didn’t seem to be in pain. I stepped into the stall and ran my hand over the dried sweat on his neck. I put my ear on his belly. Gurgle, rumble, pop! Sounds were good because if he had a blockage there would be no sounds at all. He poked me with his nose. I straightened up and walked to his head, patting him again. My eye fell on the water bucket, which was full to the top.
“Didn’t you have a drink all night?” I looked into the water. “Ewww!” The bottom was full of soggy poop. “Windsong, what did you go and do that for? You have never pooped in your bucket in your life!” I pushed him aside and took the bucket out.
After dumping and cleaning it, I refilled it. Kate was in the stall examining him when I came back. I hung up the bucket of clean, clear water, and Windsong pushed her aside to get a drink. He plunged his face in the bucket, splashed some over the edges, and then began to drink deeply.
“It was full of poop, he probably didn’t have a drink all night.”
We both watched as Windsong sucked down two-thirds of the water. Kate glanced at her watch, shaking her head. “Shit. You ride in twenty-five minutes. Maybe he was just thirsty.”
My heart was beating so hard I looked down at my shirt to see if it was moving. I chewed my lip. “What if he is colicking? I keep thinking of Jet.”
Kate drew in a noisy breath. “Yeah, I know.” After a moment, she sighed. “Let’s call the vet.”
My shoulders slumped. There was no way I’d make my ride with Erica. My lips quivered. “Okay.”
Kate rubbed my back. “I know, it sucks. Better safe than sorry, though. I’ll wait here while you go find Erica and Robert and tell them what’s up.”
I scrubbed my hands across my face and nodded. With one last look at Windsong, I slumped down the aisle.
Erica was in the lounge filling a cup with coffee. “Good morning, Jane,” she said cheerfully.
I took a shaky breath. “Umm, I have to cancel my lesson. We think, well, we called the vet, but maybe Windsong is colicking.” My voice squeaked on the last word.
Erica’s face instantly filled with concern. “Oh, no. Is it bad?”
My control slipped, and I sniffed, shrugging. “I don’t know.”
Erica set her cup down and put her arms around me. “Stay calm. The vet will come and check things out. He’ll be okay.”
Through my haze, I realized Erica Flame was hugging me. Goosebumps ran down my arms, and I pressed my forehead into her shoulder. I moved back before my tears left a spot on the United States Equestrian Team emblem on her polo shirt. “I better, umm, go check for the vet.” I didn’t meet her eyes as I wiped my cheeks with my sleeve. Alison was standing near, a cup and a Danish filling her hands.
My face heated, and I braced myself, expecting her to mock me for crying. Instead, she was gloating, and a satisfied grin spread across her face. “Not riding? Too bad for you.”
I stared. “No. My horse is sick.”
”What a shame.” Her smile never wavered, and her voice was almost gleeful as she walked past me and plopped down on one of the chairs.
Something about her satisfaction reminded me of her threat that I wouldn’t ride for the team if she had anything to say about it. Although she couldn’t have anticipated Windsong’s illness, she was inordinately pleased by it. She had to have someone as the fourth teammate. Why was she so against it being me? I sighed as I walked through the door. Maybe the vet was here.
At Windsong’s stall, Kate was speaking to the veterinarian. Windsong was eating his hay and came over to nuzzle my fingers.
Kate shook the man’s hand. “Thank you very much, sir.” As he walked away, she turned to me, smiling. “No colic.”
I sagged against the wall, relief washing over me like warm rain. “He’s okay? Can I ride?” I looked at my watch.
“Well, no. He’s dehydrated and needs to rest. The vet gave him some meds. He needs the day off, but you can take him out for a walk later.”
“A walk? Great, sure. Glad we drove all this way so I could take him for a walk.” I smacked the wall with my fist. Disaster, like I said.
Windsong poked his muzzle between the bars of the stall and blew air with a loud whoosh. I rubbed the velvety spot between his nostrils. He nudged my fingers. “I still get to ride with Robert tomorrow, right?”
“Well, I have to talk to you about that.”
An icy arrow of fear sliced through my belly. I crossed my arms, wrapping my hands around my elbows. “What?”<
br />
Kate’s face was somber. “The doctor listened to Windsong’s heart, and he heard an irregular beat. It could be nothing, a lot of horses have murmurs. Or it could be significant. He suggested we get it checked out.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “What does that mean? Can I ride him or not?”
“The vet’s coming back tomorrow, and it’s possible you’ll be able to ride him, but we won’t know until the doctor examines him in the morning. Let’s hope it’s nothing.”
I leaned on the wall, rubbing my hands over my face. A heart problem? I turned and peered in at Windsong. He lifted his head and pointed his ears at me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and started praying.
Shawn sprawled in one of the seats in the indoor and watched Melinda ride. Belvedere’s thick, strong body was bent to the right, performing a half pass. The first steps were light and balanced, and then he tipped to the right, leaning into the bit, and his steps got heavier and smaller. When I stepped through the door, Shawn waved me over. I hesitated, feeling raw and not wanting to explain myself. When Shawn started to get up, I held a finger up and made my way down the stairs to plop into the chair next to him.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispered, leaning close.
His compliment grated on my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. I turned away from him. “Cut the crap. I’m in no mood.”
The amusement left his face as he studied me. It was all I could do to hold on to my composure as his eyes softened sympathetically. “I heard about your horse. Is he okay?”
