by Toni Mari
After he walked away, Kate pulled me into a hug. “He’s fine. He’s fine.” She patted my back. “Let’s go take our baby home.”
While we loaded a groggy Windsong into the trailer, my phone sang out “Candle in the Wind.” I let it go to voice mail as I slammed the tailgate closed and fastened the latches. I jogged to the passenger side door and hopped in. I bounced lightly on the seat while Kate said a final goodbye to the technicians. As soon as she opened the door, I blurted out, “That means I can have that lesson with Erica, right?”
She laughed as she buckled her seat belt. “Yes. And we can still do the showcase. And we can keep on training for the championship.” She flashed me a grin.
He was okay. I would ride with Erica. I would still be on the team. I smiled and hugged myself. Alison wouldn’t be happy. And Melinda better watch out too. I was back in and was planning on making the most of my opportunity. Even knowing that Shawn was my biggest obstacle—in the ring and out of it—couldn’t dampen my spirits at that moment. Windsong and I would at least get the chance.
#
Chapter Twenty-Three
I spent Friday packing the trailer, washing Windsong, and mulling over the situation with Cory. I couldn’t figure out whether I was angry or guilty; I definitely was confused. I sat on my tack trunk in the sun and called him.
“Darling.”
Fingers of warmth spread over me at the sound of his voice. “I was packing and I thought of you, and I . . . ”
“Don’t say anything. It was so hard leaving you, and when that putz called you, I was mad as hell. I was mad that he was going to be with you.”
“Not with me. We are on the same team, though. And I may have to speak with him, maybe even, you know, spend a certain amount of time with him. You can’t act like a jerk every time.”
After a moment of silence, he said quietly, “How’s Windsong?”
“He passed. He’s okay to compete. I am so relieved.”
“Me too. Wish I was there with you. I’d help you celebrate.”
“You would be helping me pack if you were here now.”
He chuckled. “No, if I was packing, we would be done and moving on to the celebrating.”
It was true, he was organized and efficient. I was a spastic throw-it-in-the-trunk and shove-it-in-the-trailer kind of packer. “I miss you,” I whispered.
The next morning, rolling down the open road into a glorious sunrise, I recalled how Cory would give me pep talks: “Just you and Windsong” was one of his favorite sayings. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Shawn. I let Cory think that he had nothing to be jealous of. To make that completely true, I needed to avoid Shawn. I had never answered any of his texts. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be around until the afternoon since he didn’t really do mornings. And this was just a lesson with Erica; the team wasn’t riding until tomorrow. No worries, I told the butterflies in my stomach. Just riding with Erica. I slumped in the seat, holding my head in my hands.
As soon as we arrived and unpacked everything, including one high-stepping, loud-whinnying, shiny-black demon, I began tacking up. Perfect. He needed to look perfect.
“Shoot. Double shoot.” I stood up and shook the shavings off the leg wrap in my hand for the third time. “Can’t you just stand still,” I moaned. I gave Windsong a shove to get him to stand straight as I rewrapped the polo.
“Need a hand?”
I whipped around to the stall door, dropping the leg wrap again. “Shawn.”
“No need to panic. I’ll keep my hands to myself. I would have to have a brain like cement not to get that you don’t want me.” He pushed through the door and ran a hand down Windsong’s side. “I’ll pick up this foot.” He leaned down and lifted a front leg. “Go ahead,” he urged when I didn’t move.
I placed the fat, fluffy white wrap against Windsong’s hind leg, circling his bone in even, taut layers that were spaced perfectly and matched the other three wraps precisely. It was so much easier when Windsong couldn’t dance around.
Shawn dropped Windsong’s foot. “See? You do need me,” he mocked. At the look on my face, he hurriedly said, “I’ll get your saddle.”
I just stood there. Should I tell him to hit the road? I was tempted to give Megan a quick call. She would know what to do. Shawn came back through the door and handed me my saddle. I glanced at my watch and blanched. Better get moving.
He held Windsong while I climbed aboard. “Can you grab some extra treats from my trunk?” I pointed back in the barn.
“Sure.” Shawn jogged up the aisle.
Shawn came back out of the barn and immediately gave Windsong a treat. Windsong stopped pacing small circles and focused on the new treat provider, nudging Shawn’s shoulder. We followed Shawn to the ring to meet Erica.
I looked at his spiky blond hair as he walked in Cory’s usual spot. Windsong kept prodding his arm, looking for more treats. Shawn doled out a few, tickling the horse’s lips and keeping him interested, just like Cory did. As we walked through the quiet show grounds, we passed a few horses with lightweight dress sheets covering the bulk of their bodies whose grooms were letting them stretch their legs and snatch a few bites of grass. Shawn greeted some of them with a nod or a smile. It seemed every female with eyes in her head followed his progress.
“Wait. How did you know I would be here this early?”
He glanced back over his shoulder. “Erica told me. She said to make sure you knew where to go.”
“So, she’s the only reason you came to help me. You aren’t trying to, you know, repeat what we’re pretending never happened?”
“You can pretend—I can’t stop thinking about it. But, yeah, Erica sent me.”
”So, you won’t be watching. You must have something else to do.”
Shawn turned around and walked backward. “Not a thing. I plan on enjoying your ride.” He licked his lips, and the cocky grin was back in place.
I snorted. “No.” His eyebrow shot up. “I mean, it’s early. You don’t need to watch. Go back to bed, get some rest.” I adjusted my tank top, trying to pull it higher to cover my chest.
He watched me squirm for a minute, still grinning. “I’m staying.” He spun back around and held a treat out to Windsong.
Dammit. Trouble. He was trouble.
“Jane!” Mandy called as she jumped off the fence and came running toward us. “Hi, Shawn.”
“Hey, short stuff.” Shawn held up his hand for a high five, and Mandy smacked it lightly.
“Mom’s waiting for you,” Mandy said as she ran ahead and opened the gate. Erica was inside the practice ring, leaning on the top rail, chatting with two women. She stood up and waved me in. Shawn winked at me and went to stand with the two women.
I rode through the gate with my muscles feeling rubbery. “Good morning,” I rasped. Breathe, it’s simple: in, then out. I licked my lips as I sucked air in.
“Hi!” Erica greeted me with a big smile. She lifted a hand to pat Windsong, but he threw his head up and back-pedaled.
I thumped my heels into his ribs. “Behave!” I shook my head at Erica. “I’m sorry. He’s his usual nutty self.”
“Actually, that’s good to hear. Last weekend, he wasn’t feeling too good.”
I avoided her eyes, spotting Kate joining Shawn and giving me a thumbs-up. Mandy climbed on the fence and sat on the top rail. “Yeah, he’s good now.”
“Okay. Let’s start. I am going to have you begin at the walk. Leg yield down the rail, and then when you get near the corner, do a turn on the forehand, then a six-meter volte and shoulder-in. When you get near the corner, turn on the forehand again and start over with the leg yield.”
“Okay. How many times?”
“Keep doing it until I tell you to stop.”
I followed her instructions. Windsong tossed his head and his back end swung around like a pendulum. These were easy movements. A leg yield was a first-level movement, and turns on the forehand—making Windsong’s front
legs stay still while spinning the rest of him around to face the other direction—that wasn’t even in any dressage tests. I didn’t see how this was going to help me with my advanced movements, but I would do whatever Erica told me to, even if it meant turning around in my saddle and riding backward.
After the second repetition, Windsong started to get the hang of it and practically did the movements himself with an easy touch of my leg or squeeze on the reins. It was like we were line dancing, repeating the same dance steps over and over. I even started to nod my head to the rhythm of his walk.
“That’s it. Now, repeat the same steps at the trot.”
We had to do it only once for Windsong to know what to do. And the funny thing was that these simple beginner exercises were engaging his whole body and mind. Windsong was totally absorbed and involved. We were dancing!
Erica clapped. “Beautiful. Walk on a loose rein once around the arena. Then, repeat the exercise in the other direction.”
Oooh. This direction was bad. I couldn’t seem to keep Windsong’s hind end behind his front end in a matching rhythm. It kept swinging in front of us like a tractor trailer jack-knifing. I tapped his haunch with my whip, but that just caused a bunny hop forward.
“Walk straight forward, let the reins out. You’re strong on your right side and blocking him from moving sideways. Twist to the right and touch his tail with your right hand.” I made a face but did as I was told. “Good, good. Now, touch his left hip with that right hand, twist farther almost facing backwards.”
Wow, that wasn’t easy. I rocked with Windsong’s walk and scrunched my legs up to try to reach that left hip.
“Don’t fight the motion, reach a little farther in time with each step and work to drop your legs back down.”
It took walking around half the ring before I actually could touch his hip. Thank goodness Windsong didn’t find anything stimulating to make him leap around because I think I would have flown right off his back.
“Sit up and back to those exercises.”
Huh. Easier, much easier. We were back to dancing. I grinned and started nodding to silent music in my head. Up to the trot, and I felt like grooving my shoulders—this was dancing! I was the leading partner, and Windsong was doing his part.
“Nice. Very nice. Now, pick up the collected canter, down the centerline, half pass left, flying change, half pass right. Lengthen stride down the long side and do your half canter pirouette before the corner,” Erica instructed.
Now this was more like it. This was a series of movements right from my test with some extra difficulty thrown in with the pirouette, for which we’d practically have to stop and twirl on his butt at the end of a gallop.
I did it. And we were still dancing. Usually, I struggled with the second half pass to the right. My strong right side blocking, I guess. In the test, though, I had to do flying lead changes across the diagonal after the half passes, and it was a struggle to keep up Windsong’s energy for the last few changes. Now, we rolled sideways to the right, Windsong’s legs crossing like a pair of scissors. He loved the gallop forward and leapt out with enthusiasm. When I asked Windsong to collect for the pirouette in the corner, I pictured Jet, Cory’s gifted reining horse, sitting down in the dirt for a sliding stop. I grinned as Windsong lowered his rump and hopped around to face the other direction. This was where his talent in rearing came in handy. He lifted his front end with no problem. After a few strides of canter, I brought him to the walk. I was about to pat his neck when applause made us both flinch to the side.
I was so absorbed in our work that I hadn’t noticed quite a few people gathered, hanging on the fence and watching our lesson. I could hear Mandy’s voice, “Yay! Jane! Yay!”
My mouth dropped open. Shawn winked, mouthing “Good job.”
Erica came up to me and put a hand on my leg. “Amazing.” Windsong turned his head and gave her a nudge with his nose. She caught his face in both of her hands. “You were amazing too.” He nodded up and down. “Loves the work, doesn’t he?”
“He liked that work, he was totally into it,” I gushed.
“It showed. You two are a wonderful team. He is very talented, and so are you, Jane. Good job. Cool him out.” She gave him a final pat and walked over to Kate, Shawn, and Mandy.
I walked Windsong on a loose rein. He rolled along in his fast way but kept all four feet on the ground. I rubbed his neck, and his sides heaved as his nostrils flared to suck in more air. Was that the shortness of breath that the vet had talked about? We did just gallop, but was that a normal amount of blowing, or was it too much?
We walked along the stretch of fence, passing people to get to Kate. I barely heard the comments they called. “Great job!” and “Beautiful horse!”
I stopped Windsong in front of Kate, Shawn, and Mandy. I stared meaningfully at Kate and said cryptically, “He’s out of breath.”
Shawn had climbed on the fence next to Mandy, and the little girl was petting Windsong’s nose as he licked her hand.
“Not excessively. Keep walking him.” Her casual tone belied her intense study of his breathing.
Shawn’s eyes met mine, all soft and gooey. “You looked great,” he said softly.
Zing! Right to my belly where the butterflies were dancing it up. He held my gaze for a minute, a slow smile spreading on those nice lips. My heart sped up and my eyes dropped to his mouth as I remembered the kiss. “I have to walk him.” I tugged Windsong away. “See you later, Mandy.”
#
Chapter Twenty-Four
Windsong was all set up with hay and water and half a bag of minty horse cookies. He would be good for a while.
“I’ll see you at dinner, big guy. Now, to find me some food.” I was supposed to meet Kate at the food tents. My parents would come in time to see my class, so I wouldn’t see them until tomorrow afternoon.
Shawn and Mandy strolled down the barn aisle toward me. If I ducked back into Windsong’s stall, maybe they’d keep walking past. Mandy broke into a jog and slammed herself into my waist.
“Hi, Mandy.”
“Mom said I could hang out with you two for lunch. After, we could meet her at Santos’s stall to watch her get ready.”
I looked over her head at Shawn. Really? Using a kid, babysitting?
“Mandy wanted to find you. Erica told me to make sure it was okay with you. I could go eat lunch by myself if you want.” He knew I wouldn’t make him leave, slick devil.
I spun Mandy around. “Lead me to food. I’m starving.”
She skipped in front of us toward the refreshment tents.
I leveled a look at Shawn. “What makes you Erica’s babysitter all of a sudden?”
He shrugged. “She’s my trainer. I often wind up with Mandy if she brings her.”
It didn’t jive with the playboy image that was my first impression of him. Where was the guy that partied and had girls on his lap and was too hung over to ride well?
Mandy turned and walked backward. She framed her mouth with her hands and said in an exaggerated whisper, “Shawn, watch out, here comes Alison.”
I looked at him in surprise. He rolled his eyes.
Mandy stepped closer to me. “We’ll protect you, Shawn. Jane, get his other hand.” She looked at me pointedly, holding up their joined hands.
Shawn smiled and held up his free hand. “I need your protection.”
“I ought to let the moon princess have you,” I growled and clutched his hand none too gently.
Alison spotted us strolling along, and after one furious look, she turned to avoid us. She made that decision too late.
“Oh, hi, Alison,” Mandy said in a falsely bright voice. “We’re off to lunch. Care to join us?”
The smooth little operator. Care to join us, like an upper-crust debutante. Alison went rigid. She spun on her heel and marched away.
“What was that all about, Mandy?” I asked, dropping Shawn’s hand like a hot potato.
“She tried to hang out with us last
year. But she was too bossy. Shawn and I gave her the boot. Right, Shawn?” Mandy trilled.
I raised my eyebrows, waiting for his response. To his credit, he reddened. “It wasn’t like that. Mandy, shut up.” He bumped her sideways with his hip.
We settled at a table in one of the tents with our trays of greasy fried food, which smelled wonderful. Melinda slid into the fourth seat, banging a tray down. “This stuff looks disgusting. They didn’t have one piece of fruit or a vegetable anywhere on the menu. Uck!” She picked up a French fry with her fingertips and dropped it like it was poison.
“Looks delicious to me,” Shawn said and picked up her French fry and stuffed it in his mouth.
She giggled and put her hand over her mouth, her cheeks turning pink.
I laughed too. And you know what? I was glad to see her.
“How’s Belvedere, Melinda? Gonna knock our socks off tomorrow?” I took a bite of my juicy burger.
She didn’t answer right away. I met her eyes, and she was looking at me kind of funny.
“What?”
“I’m not used to us being, you know, nice,” she said as she smiled.
“Oh, don’t worry. I still intend on riding your butt right out of the ring.” I grinned at her over my bun.
She laughed. “You can try.”
After lunch, the four of us went to find Erica. Shawn and Mandy lead us to Santos’s stall. Erica was directing a small, dark-haired man to put leg wraps and bell boots onto the big red horse. For all his power and energy, Santos stood quietly in the cross ties. His alert expression showed that he didn’t miss anything, though. He lowered his nose to Mandy’s hand and gently took a treat from her. He didn’t bother looking at Shawn or Melinda but pointed his ears at me. I didn’t know what that regal look meant, but Windsong trained me well and I dug in my pocket for a mint cookie. When I stepped up to hand it to him, he nudged my chest before he took the treat.
“That’s amazing,” Erica said. “He’s usually such a snob. He doesn’t give anyone but his family the time of day.”
