“Seven fifteen,” she said. “My class starts in forty-five minutes!”
We grabbed our duffel bags with our show clothes and dashed inside the blue and white check-in tent. We got our numbers—I drew 188 and Callie got 201—and followed signs to the changing areas to get ready.
The Connecticut State Horse Show was a big deal. Riders who won their divisions here could qualify for regional and national shows. At Briar Creek, I’d only done local shows—never state competitions. If Canterwood riders made it to regionals, we could travel anywhere in New England for a show. Most riders at the intermediate level showed at least once a month—some even every other weekend to get enough wins and points to qualify for bigger shows.
The fancy gold script painted on the Canterwood trailers was hard to miss. I buttoned on my choker, grabbed my bag and knocked on Callie’s door.
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Callie said. “My hairnet for dressage got tangled in my choker.”
“Want help?” I shifted my bag and checked my watch. Twenty-nine minutes until Callie’s class and mine was right after hers.
“Just go. Mr. Conner will notice if we’re both gone.”
I walked to the trailers. The sun had burned away the early morning fog. Horses and riders dotted the grounds.
Up ahead, I could see a warm-up ring tucked away behind the indoor arena. A metal sign pointed riders toward the cross-country course. Some of the fences were higher than my practice jumps. Trainers coached students on horseback and one instructor had her students doing pre-show Pilates on mats in the nearby field. The Canterwood trailers looked as big as tour buses. Mike was holding Charm’s lead line in his hand. Charm wasn’t moving.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice shaking. I ran my hands up and down Charm’s legs.
“Sasha! Sasha!” Mike said, pulling me up. “He’s fine. His legs are fine. Nothing’s broken.”
“What was wrong? I thought something happened!” Tears pricked my eyes as I stood and tried to steady myself against Charm’s strong shoulder.
Mike shifted his eyes over to Charm’s neck. I followed Mike’s gaze to Charm’s mane. Half of his once beautiful braids were gone. Stubs of mane stuck up in disarray. Mike offered me his hand. He held several of the braids, rubber bands still in place. After thinking Charm had hurt a leg, this was almost a relief. But I couldn’t compete on a horse with a half-missing mane.
“It looks like Aristocrat is a chewer,” Mike said. “Heather must not have tied him well enough. Looks like he tugged the knot loose and chewed on Charm’s mane.”
“Heather knew better,” I said to Mike. “She put Aristocrat on the left side because the tie ring was thicker and easier to tug loose. I should have known better.”
Mike started to say something when another student called him. “I’m sorry,” he said, before jogging off to the unloading area.
Charm looked at me and I hugged him.
“I’m so sorry, boy,” I said. “I’ll get your mane fixed. Promise.”
Callie dashed to my side, her helmet’s unfastened chin strap flapping against her face. “Oh, Sasha. I’m so sorry. What can I do?”
“We’ve got to fix this before my class.” I checked my watch. “In nineteen minutes! Can you grab me the clippers?”
Callie found the clippers in the supply bag. Starting at his withers, I buzzed off Charm’s mane up to his ears leaving only his forelock. Poor Charm didn’t move. The remaining braids fell to the ground. I’d tell Mom and Dad that a horse chewed off Charm’s mane, but I wouldn’t tell them Heather had let Aristocrat do it on purpose. There was already too much to deal with today.
A few yards away, Mom and Dad spotted me and waved.
Um?
What was my mother wearing?! In one ear, she had a green “C” earring and in the other she had a gold “A.” How did she even find those? Dad had one hunter green croc on one foot and a gold croc on the other. His Nikon hung around his neck. The other parents who walked the grounds wore normal outfits like khakis, light-colored blouses and polo shirts. Not these Canterwood Crest Academy souvenir shop monstrosities!
Mom hugged me. Dad snapped at least ten pictures as he walked over. He should have been a paparazzo—not the manager of a regional bank.
“This is my friend Callie,” I said.
“Hi, Callie,” Dad said. “Are you riding with Sasha?”
“I have a different class in a few minutes,” she said.
“Sasha!” Mom gasped, getting a look at Charm’s mane.
Dad stepped around Mom and ran his hand over Charm’s buzzed mane. “What happened?” he asked, lowering his camera.
“On the ride over, the horse next to him was trying to groom Charm and he accidentally bit too hard on the braids. I had to buzz off the rest.”
“Oh, honey,” Mom said. “Can he show like this?”
I nodded. “He’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry that happened,” Dad said. “But we know you’ll do great anyway.”
“Thanks, Dad. We should go, but I’ll see you later.”
“You going to tell them the truth?” Callie asked, once we were away from my parents.
“I don’t want them to worry,” I said.
Mike handed me Charm’s bridle and took the halter. After a quick adjustment to Charm’s girth, he was ready.
Alison rode up to us and leaned closer to me. “Thanks for the bending advice,” she whispered, sneaking a glance at Heather, who was talking to Mr. Conner. “I think it worked.”
“Good,” I said. Callie gave me the wide-eyed, Alison’s-talking-to-you look. Alison moved away from us and let Sunstruck walk over to Aristocrat.
“You’re all going to do great,” Mr. Conner said, giving us a rare smile. “I’m proud of each and every one of you.”
I cheered as Callie gracefully dismounted and took Black Jack’s reins in her free hand. Charm bobbed his head at Jack in congratulations.
“I can’t believe I won first place!” Callie said, kissing her blue ribbon.
“You deserve it,” I said, wondering if I’d ever have that silky blue prize in my hands.
Alison took her second place red ribbon and rammed it into her jacket pocket.
“The dirt on the drop fence was soft,” Callie said. She loosened Jack’s saddle and followed me off the outdoor course. “It’s softer than it should be. We almost stumbled on the landing—that’s what took Alison down.”
Callie looked so professional in her dressage habit—black top hat, thigh-high boots and fitted jacket. Regulations for dressage were strict. Perfecting all of the moves Callie practiced so many times didn’t look easy.
My class started in half an hour—time for one final warm-up.
“Riders of the stadium jumping intermediate class round two, please proceed to ring number four. Number 187, Julia Myer, you’re up first.” Charm and I waited just outside the ring while my class started. Mom and Dad waved at me from the stands.
I adjusted my crooked black helmet. I shouldn’t have goofed off so much with Paige last week. Instead of watching a movie marathon on the Disney Channel, I should have been in the stables pacing out my jumps and working with Charm!
The loudspeaker crackled to life. “Score for number 187, Julia Myer, is no faults. Number 188, Sasha Silver, please enter the ring.”
Julia had a perfect score—zero.
When I squeezed my legs, Charm walked forward. The high jumps looked more daunting with every step he took. We stood at the edge of the ring while I took one final breath. A clear round was the only way to stay in the game.
The jumps—including planks and a combination—seemed to stretch into the top of the indoor ceiling. They looked menacing. During practices, Mr. Conner had gradually increased the jump heights and built up the team by teaching us how to approach tall jumps. Still, these obstacles were a couple of inches higher than Canterwood’s rails. The goal was to make it cleanly over the jumps and not to go over time. If I did, I’d pick up a penalty.
We waited for the starting bell. My head felt hot under my helmet. My slick hands gripped the reins. The bell rang out. On my go, Charm surged forward and our time began.
Charm sailed over the first small vertical and pulled at the bit to head for the red and white oxer. “Easy,” I soothed. “Nice and slow.” He flicked his ears back for a second, listening to my voice, and then tucked his legs gracefully under his body and cleared the second jump. We made a long half circle and cantered to the third and fourth jumps, a quick in and out. We needed to clear the third jump and leave the ground one stride later to leap the fourth. My breath stopped as Charm collected himself, slowed, and landed perfectly between the third and fourth fence. He skyrocketed over the fourth fence, with a dizzying triangle pattern, and surged forward to the water jump.
“Not so fast,” I whispered. “Slow down.” I gave the reins a few short, sharp tugs, to try to slow his pace. Water jumps—or liverpools—were tricky. The fake water below often scared horses if they approached wrong.
I did a half-halt—pulling slightly on the reins while urging Charm forward with my seat. But he continued to barrel toward liverpool. He wasn’t listening! If I didn’t do something, he could injure a leg when he landed on the other side. With my forgotten gloves in the trailer, the reins cut into the skin between my thumb and finger. The only option was to ride with him instead of against him. We swept past the judges. My grip on the reins relaxed and I gave Charm his head to approach the jump as he wanted. I prayed we wouldn’t knock the rail.
Hoofbeats thudded in my ears. My hands slid along Charm’s neck as we approached the jump. His body lifted into the air, clearing the rail. He seemed to suspend over the water. I took a gulp of air when his hooves hit the dirt. Thank God! His left front leg wobbled as he hit a soft patch and I held still to give him the room to correct his landing. Charm’s back hooves landed centimeters away from the water line. He cantered to the final jumps.
We made it around the next few jumps without knocking down a rail or brushing a fence. Excitement bubbled inside me, as I focused on finishing the course.
The final obstacle was a rustic wooden rail with boxes of bright flowers on the sides. The flowers were meant to distract the horse and cause the horse to refuse the jump. Charm cantered vigorously toward the jump and surged over it. His hoof thudded against the rail and I twisted around to see the rail shudder in place before staying in the hold. Yes! I’d just tied with Julia! She was by the arena fence, talking furiously into her cell phone.
“Number 188,” the loudspeaker said. “Sasha Silver has a score of no faults.” I let out a whoop of excitement, dismounted, and led Charm out of the arena.
“Look at that, boy!” I said to Charm. “We cleared all of those jumps!” Charm flexed his neck, pawing the ground. Mom and Dad whistled from the stands.
And then it hit me: Julia and I were going head-to-head.
16
TWO BLUE RIBBONS, FOUR GIRLS, AND SOME SERIOUS ATTITUDE
THE LAST RIDER FINISHED HIS ROUND. JULIA and I stood on opposite sides of the ring, waiting to hear his score. “Number 196, Alex Walker, has scored zero faults,” the announcer said.
My heart pounded. It was official: Julia, Alex and I would compete in the jump-off. We’d have the same course, we’d be competing for the fastest time, and the rails would be raised in this round. The judges removed two verticals from the course. Our jumping order was determined randomly—Alex had the first slot, followed by Julia and then me.
I watched Alex’s ride. His black gelding, Agent Ace, thundered over the jumps and Alex urged him into a slow gallop on the long turns. The final jump was the highest of the course, but Alex and Ace soared over it. The crowed roared its approval.
“Final time for Alex Walker is fifty-nine seconds with no faults,” said the announcer.
Julia mounted Trix. She had to jump clean and beat Alex’s time. A bell sounded. The bay mare seemed to have the course memorized. Julia’s face never changed expression—she kept her eyes forward, always on the jump ahead of her. She urged Trix into a fast canter as they approached the final jump. Trix leapt into the air and at the last second, her shiny black hoof nicked the rail. The rail shook and looked as if it would bounce out of the holder and tumble into the dirt. Julia looked over her shoulder as the rail wobbled and then settled back into the hold. My stomach sank. Audience applause filled the ring and Julia pumped her fist in victory. That was going to be hard to beat.
“Time for Julia Myer is fifty-two seconds with no faults.”
Julia trotted over to me. “Are you really going to even try?”
Her face was half hidden by her black riding helmet. She had a few splotches of arena dirt on her nose. I ignored her and double-checked Charm’s bell boots.
“Heather!” Julia called across the ring. Heather ran over and high-fived Julia. A red ribbon—second place—peeked out of her jacket pocket.
“Is that the new It look, Silver? A buzzed mane?” Heather asked, smirking.
Charm swung his hindquarters around so Heather got a lovely shot of chestnut rump. Before I could say a word, Julia and Heather linked arms and took Trix to the waiting area. Julia draped Trix in a sweat sheet and waited to watch my round.
I turned away from them, focusing all my attention on Charm. Glancing into the stands, I saw Callie waving a blue ribbon at me. She beat Heather in dressage! With a grin, I gave her a thumbs up before signaling Charm to enter the ring. Charm stepped up to the starting line and the bell sounded.
I pushed Charm into a fast canter as we cleared the first jump. He landed easily and huffed in excitement as he powered toward the second fence.
Charm slowed a notch and the oxer was soon behind us. He soared over the rails, the water jump and the in and out set. I urged him into a slow gallop on the long turn and we approached the final rail and the evil flower box. We hadn’t knocked a rail yet, but I couldn’t tell if our time was faster than Julia’s. Charm gathered himself before the final fence and we flew over it. His hooves pounded the dirt after the jump.
Leaning down, I rubbed his sweaty neck. “Way to go, boy!”
Charm trotted out of the ring. Julia and Alex led their horses beside Charm as we waited for my time.
“Nice ride,” Alex said as I dismounted.
I smiled at him. “Thanks! You, too.” At least the guys at St. Alexander’s School for Boys seemed decent. But not as cute as Jacob.
No one spoke to Julia as she stared straight ahead and didn’t look at any of us. The loudspeaker came on. We all held our breaths.
“Number 188, Sasha Silver.” Please, oh, please. “Time is fifty-five seconds with no faults.”
Cheers erupted from the ring. I’d lost by three seconds! I let out my breath and slumped against Charm’s side. The only class at my first state show and I didn’t win. Charm flicked back his ears, looking at me for reassurance, and I patted his neck. “It’s okay, boy. You did great.” I knew it wasn’t his fault. If I had worked harder on timing, we’d be taking that blue ribbon. We would have to practice more, or there was no way we’d make the advanced team. I looked into the stands. Mom and Dad, standing in their seats, cheered as if I had won first place.
With a sigh, I led Charm over to Julia and tried to smile. “Congratulations,” I said. “It was a good round.”
“I don’t need your congratulations,” Julia spat. Mr. Conner motioned Julia over to him and she headed off, leaving me alone.
“Charm, I’m so sorry,” I said to him. “We would have won if I’d practiced more.”
Charm watched me and nosed my arm. He didn’t look as defeated as I felt.
“Your first show at this easy level and you didn’t win,” Heather said. “Poor Sasha Silver from Briar Creek.” She reached past me and stroked Charm’s buzzed mane. I held myself back from slapping her hand away. Instead, I led Charm away. I collected my red ribbon from the judge and pinned it on Charm’s bridle. I consoled myself that Mom, Dad, and Callie had see
med thrilled that we’d gotten second place. Maybe they thought that’s the best I could do.
“Aren’t you going to go do a victory dance with Julia?” I asked Heather later while we waited for the horses in front of us to exit so we could leave.
“Why would I do that when I can stay here with you?” Heather asked, not even glancing in Julia’s direction. I looked at Heather’s ribbon. “If you think it’s because she won and I didn’t, you’re wrong. There were actually talented riders in my class.”
“So, what happened? Why aren’t you with Julia, then?”
Heather kicked her boot into the arena dirt.
For a second, she had that same look as when she had fought with her father in the parking lot. I couldn’t help feeling a surge of sympathy.
“I know it’s tough sometimes,” I said. “But—”
“Do you think I need advice from you?” Heather interjected. “I have my own friends, so save it for someone else.” She walked right past Julia, who was posing for a photo with Mr. Conner, holding up her blue ribbon. That could have been Charm and me.
The horses in front of me separated and I led Charm out of the arena. We waited for my parents outside.
“Way to go, honey,” Dad said, squeezing my arm.
“Second place!” My mom enthused.
They were beaming with pride. I felt ungrateful, suddenly, and guilty about the way I’d reacted to their clothes. “I’m so glad you guys are here.”
We took our time walking to the trailers. I listened to Mom and Dad chatter about the way “Charm attacked that fence.”
“Want to grab a soda with us before you help Mr. Conner?” Dad asked.
“That sounds good,” I said. I was grateful to have a few more minutes before we had to say good-bye.
Mom seemed to sense my mood. “We’ll be seeing you in a couple of weeks for Parents’ Weekend,” Mom reminded me.
I nodded, but even that didn’t make me feel much better. When Charm and I got back to Canterwood, we were going to practice. School and fun couldn’t get in the way. This show was over. Now it was all about the advanced team. Charm and I had five weeks to work. If people thought I practiced hard before, they hadn’t seen anything yet. I could balance good grades and practice like crazy.
The Canterwood Crest Stable of Books Page 8
