The Canterwood Crest Stable of Books

by Jessica Burkhart

  “Tighten up the reins, Sasha! Alison, more inside leg!” Mr. Conner’s voice reverberated off the indoor arena walls and caused Charm to shake his head. He’d been making us do drills—walk, trot, canter—for the past two hours and my legs felt like they were about to fall off.

  Charm, Aristocrat, Sunstruck, Trix, and Black Jack sweated from effort, but Mr. Conner hadn’t eased up for a second. Callie caught my eye and grimaced. A few strides in front of me, Heather cringed when Mr. Conner focused on her. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

  “Heather, deepen your seat,” Mr. Conner said. “You’re not a jockey and this isn’t the Derby.”

  Heather nodded. I watched her back go ramrod straight as she settled into Aristocrat’s saddle.

  This had been the toughest practice yet. A long, hot shower was the first thing I’d do when I got back to Winchester. I needed a good night’s sleep before the show.

  “Okay, pull them up.” Mr. Conner moved to the arena’s center. With a grateful sigh, I halted Charm. We turned the horses to face Mr. Conner and Alison slid Sunstruck into an empty spot next to Charm and me. “Let’s talk about how tomorrow is going to go.”

  “It’s going to be a long day,” Alison whispered to me. Dirt smudged her right cheek. I was glad I couldn’t see my reflection—I knew I looked like a mess.

  “So long,” I replied.

  “You’ll arrive here by four in the morning,” Mr. Conner said. “I don’t want the trip to be stressful for the horses. You’ll need to have them wrapped and blanketed early. The Canterwood van will leave at five sharp. If you or your horses are late, you will not be coming. We’re on a tight schedule—we’ve got to make this trip as easy for the horses as possible.” He looked at our solemn faces and winked. “And maybe we’ll try to make it fun for you, too.”

  I knew I wasn’t the only one relieved—everyone relaxed visibly. For the past week, Mr. Conner had been making regionals sound about as fun as a field trip to the city sewer. Charm shifted under my weight. He craned his neck to look over at Black Jack, who stood next to Trix.

  “All right,” Mr. Conner said. “Now that you’ve had a break, let’s run through a couple of jumps. Alison, you’re up first. You’re going to take the oxer, the faux brush, and then the in-and-out. Okay?”

  Alison nodded. She spun Sunstruck in a small circle and trotted him away from the jumps before urging him into a canter. Her ponytail flopped against her back as Sunstruck’s stride lengthened into a quick canter. He propelled forward over the red-and-white oxer. Alison checked him and then sat quietly as he thundered over the green brush and churned up dirt as he popped over the tight in-and-out.

  Mr. Conner smiled and nodded. “Good. Go ahead, Callie.”

  Callie and Black Jack took the jumps without a problem. Julia and Heather followed and both received nods from Mr. Conner—his methods were tough, but I knew today’s workout had really prepped us for tomorrow’s jumps.

  “Sasha and Charm,” Mr. Conner said finally.

  Charm must have recognized his name because he yanked on the reins and I almost lost my grip.

  “Easy, shh.” I stroked his neck with one hand and tapped my heels against his sides. He sidestepped across the arena. He was high-strung today, even for a Thoroughbred! “We’re going—cool it,” I murmured in his ear.

  We circled twice before I let him straighten and pointed him at the oxer. Three, two, one, squeeze! My tired legs gripped Charm’s sides and he launched into the air, landing easily on the other side. We swept past Callie and the Trio—but my focus didn’t break for a second. When you’re guiding a thousand-pound horse over jumps, distraction isn’t an option. Soon, we were a stride in front of the brush. Charm tucked his front legs and lifted into the air. The brush waved in the breeze from his body.

  “Great job. Keep going.”

  I let him out a notch and we popped over the in-and-out. I patted his neck vigorously and slowed him. We rode up by Black Jack and the two horses sniffed muzzles and huffed a happy greeting to each other.

  “That was an excellent practice,” Mr. Conner said. He finally took his hands off his hips. “You’ve all worked incredibly hard to prepare for this show. But I want you all to know that we don’t practice this intensely just for shows. We’re working hard to make sure you’re ready for whatever riding opportunities come your way. Be sure you’re packed and get some rest tonight.”

  We nodded back.

  “Now, the farrier and vet are here to check out the competing horses. After they’re cool and groomed, please stay while your horse is checked for tomorrow.”

  “Ouch,” Callie said as she and Jack joined Charm and me.

  “No kidding,” I told her, rubbing the sides of my legs.

  We dismounted and walked our horses up and down the aisle for a few minutes. When they were cool, we split up to crosstie them. Charm shook out his coat when I took off the saddle and pad. I put the saddle upside down on the counter—it was due for a scrub. Charm’s gold nameplate on the cantle was dingy.

  Charm stood with a back hoof cocked in relaxation as I slipped a cotton lead rope over his neck. I pulled the bridle off his head, careful not to clank the bit against his teeth. He stood still for the halter. I groomed him while we waited for the farrier and vet.

  “Hello, Sasha and Charm,” Dr. Staton, Canterwood’s vet, said as she entered the aisle and walked up to me. I’d met Dr. Staton in the fall, but this was her first time examining Charm since he’d been checked the summer before we’d come to Canterwood.

  Dr. Staton’s dark blond hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and she wore jeans and a polo shirt. She carried a medical bag and wore a stethoscope around her neck.

  “Hi, beautiful boy,” she said. She extended her hand to Charm and let him sniff her before she moved to rub his shoulder. I hadn’t told Charm she was coming—he was scared of needles. And medical professionals. But Dr. Staton seemed friendly.

  “Let’s take a listen to his heart and lungs, okay?”

  “Okay.” I went to Charm’s head to keep him calm. I could watch Dr. Staton from here. Learning horse care was essential since I wanted to run my own breeding and training farm some day.

  Dr. Staton took off the stethoscope and put the ends in her ears. She moved the metal disc around Charm’s barrel and then placed it behind his elbow. She checked her watch and nodded. “Great pulse and his breathing is perfect. How often do you ride him?”

  “Almost every day,” I said. “He gets lots of exercise.”

  Dr. Staton smiled. “I can tell. Want to listen?”

  “I’d love to!” I’d never listened to Charm’s heart before. I moved over beside her and she handed me the stethoscope. I put in the earpieces and Dr. Staton pointed to where I should move my hand. Charm’s heartbeat flooded my ears. It was slower than mine; Each beat pulsed through the stethoscope. I held my breath. That was my horse’s heartbeat. It was amazing. I listened for a few seconds before handing the instrument back to Dr. Staton.

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “I’ve never heard anything like that!”

  “You never get tired of hearing it,” she said.

  She checked Charm’s teeth, eyes, and ears.

  “Is he in good shape to compete?” I asked.

  “He certainly is,” Dr. Staton said. “Let’s worm him and then he’s good to go.”

  Charm hated being wormed. I moved to hold his head while Dr. Staton readied the worming tube. She stuck the tube in the right corner of Charm’s mouth and squeezed. “Easy,” I murmured to Charm. He jerked his head up and tried to evade the disgusting yellow paste. The crossties strained against his halter and I tightened my grip on the lead line.

  “Almost there, big guy,” Dr. Staton said. She expelled the final bit of paste. Charm swallowed several times and tried to rid his mouth of the awful taste.

  “It’s okay, boy,” I soothed. “It’s over.”

  Dr. Staton tossed the dewormer tube in the trash can. “All right,
he’s ready to go. Good luck at the show. I’ll see him this fall.”

  “Great, thank you.” I smiled at her as she moved off to check the rest of the horses. “Okay, Charm,” I told him. “Now, we’ll get you new shoes. What do you think? Chucks or Skechers?”

  The farrier, Mr. O’Brady, walked over to us with his case of tools.

  “Hi, Sasha,” he said. He patted Charm’s shoulder and smiled. “Has it really been six weeks since I’ve seen him?”

  I nodded. “Be sure to give him special show shoes.”

  Mr. O’Brady nodded his bald head. “Show shoes, huh? I’ll see what I can do.” I stood by Charm’s head and watched as Mr. O’Brady removed Charm’s old shoes, picked his hooves and used a sharp hoof knife to smooth the hoof. Then, he trimmed off a bit of the hoof and used a rasp to file it down. Charm blinked calmly at me—he never stressed about getting his hooves done. “Good boy,” I said when Mr. O’Brady used a hammer to pound the nails into Charm’s hoof. Charm flicked his ears but didn’t flinch at the sound of the hammer.

  A few stalls down, Eric stepped out into the aisle and waved when he saw me.

  “Hey,” he said, walking over. Bits of hay clung to his black breeches. His boots looked as if Luna had slobbered on them after she had taken a drink of water.

  “Hi, Eric.” I smiled.

  “Just wanted to wish you luck tomorrow,” he said. “Not that you need it.”

  “We definitely need it,” I said.

  Mr. O’Brady started the last shoe.

  Eric gave Charm a final pat on the shoulder and headed out.

  “Gotta go—but I’ll catch you later,” he said.

  I waved good-bye to him.

  “See,” said a voice in my ear.

  I jumped and turned to see Callie raising her eyebrows at me.

  “He so likes you,” she said.

  “Stop it!” I hissed.

  “So now,” Callie said. “You’ve got two guys who like you. You know, I … I kind of wish Eric liked me.”

  My mouth fell open in one of those clichéd movie moments.

  “Really?” I asked.

  Callie nodded. “He’s a rider, he’s cute, and he doesn’t call me ‘dude’ like half of the guys in class.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. Callie had never admitted to liking any guys at school. She was all about riding and studying. But apparently, Eric was the exception.

  “You should talk to him,” I said. “He would like you.”

  Callie smiled. “Maybe. But first—regionals.”

  “Right,” I said. “Regionals.” I was glad the conversation had switched back to something that was more familiar territory for both me and Callie.

  With a wave, Callie headed back to Jack.

  After Mr. O’Brady had checked the last shoe, I led Charm to his stall.

  “See you tomorrow, boy,” I whispered. “Get a good night’s sleep!”

  On my way back to Winchester, I found Jacob sitting on a stone bench and reading Tom Sawyer. The collar on his black coat was pulled up to his chin and he tapped a foot against the cobblestones while he read.

  “That must be good if you’re reading out in the cold,” I said.

  Jacob looked up at me and smiled. “It’s definitely good. And my roommate messed up a chem experiment in our room, so it smells like burning sulfur.”

  “Yikes,” I said, laughing.

  “Exactly.” Jacob patted the spot next to him. “But I also kind of wanted to run into you.”

  Eeeee!

  I slid onto the bench and faced Jacob.

  “Nervous about the show tomorrow?” he asked.

  “So nervous,” I said. “I don’t want to embarrass my team.”

  “Sasha, I don’t know anything about horses, but I know you. You work hard. You’re not going to embarrass anybody.”

  “I hope not.” My cheeks flushed.

  “You won’t.” Jacob put his hand on top of mine. “You’re freezing. You better go.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got to get ready for tomorrow.”

  “Good luck—let me know when you win!” He moved his hand from mine and picked up Tom Sawyer again.

  When I got back to Winchester, I found Paige in the common room kitchen.

  The air smelled like freshly baked bread.

  “What’re you making?” I asked.

  “Homemade cinnamon rolls with icing,” Paige said. “In case …”

  “In case what?” I looked at Paige a little closer. Hairs stuck out of her sloppy ponytail and she had flour on her collar. Her recipe notebook was open and she had six recipes scratched out with a red pen, notes written all over the margins, and a sticky note that said RE-DO ALL RECIPES stuck to the counter.

  Paige hesitated. “In case I need a new recipe for the next Teen Cuisine tryout.”

  “No!” I said. “No way. You’ve got this. I know it. You’re going to win.”

  Paige gave me a small smile. “You sound so sure.”

  “I am. I’m going to say ‘I told you so’ when you win.”

  Paige’s smile broadened. “Deal.”

  The timer dinged and Paige busied herself with taking the rolls out of the oven and inspecting them.

  Now that she was happy, my mind wandered to regionals. Tomorrow was show day. Tomorrow, Charm and I would be chasing blue!

  CHASING BLUE

  IT WAS FOUR-FIFTEEN ON A BLACK MORNING when I stumbled down the Winchester hallway. Regionals were finally here! I was so excited, I hadn’t even hit the snooze button once.

  I tiptoed down the eerily quiet hallway. On my way out, I saw something fluttering under the heating vent in the ceiling. As I got closer, I saw that it was a 3-D paper heart suspended from the ceiling with fishing wire.

  THE SWEETHEART SOIRÉE IS ALMOST HERE.

  NO TIME AND NO PLACE? DON’T BE WORRIED—NEVER FEAR!

  FINE, WE’LL TELL, PAY ATTENTION MY DEAR.

  IN THE BALLROOM AT EIGHT, JOIN IN THE CHEER!

  A new Soirée clue! I couldn’t wait to see if Callie had seen one in Orchard.

  The cold air made me shiver in my stable coat. It couldn’t be warmer than forty degrees. The campus was almost more beautiful in the dark, with its black lanterns lighting the sidewalks and the buildings glowing softly against the dark sky.

  As I approached the stable yard, I blinked in the dim lights and saw exactly what I had expected—complete and utter craziness.

  “Mr. Conner!” Alison whined. “Sunstruck won’t let me wrap his tail!”

  “But Mr. Conner!” Julia called from Trix’s stall. “I can’t get Trix’s travel boots on!”

  Mr. Conner put down a stack of blankets and headed for Alison’s stall. “Be there in a sec,” he told Julia.

  I slipped out of Charm’s stall—he was already blanketed, wrapped and calm—and headed for Trix and Julia.

  I knocked on the door and popped my head over. “Can I come in? Maybe I can help.”

  Julia brushed her hair out of her eyes and waved me in distractedly. “I can’t get these shipping boots on the right way.” She handed me the black boot with Velcro and buckles all in the wrong direction. I untangled them and bent down by Trix’s gleaming black leg.

  “She looks great,” I said. I petted her left leg before fastening the boot.

  Julia knelt down and watched me buckle the straps. “Thanks. She works really hard. I just hope it pays off.”

  I got up and ducked under Trix’s neck and then got on my knees for the second boot. I peered under her stomach and looked at Julia. Preshow jitters must have got to her. She never had trouble with boots before. “You guys practiced every second. You’ll do great.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  As soon as I left Trix’s stall, Mr. Conner motioned to me. “We’re ready to load Charm,” he said.

  I hurried to Charm’s stall, clipped a lead rope on him, and led him outside.

  “See you in a bit, boy.” I hugged his neck and he leaned into me. Mike took
the lead rope and Charm stepped into the van.

  “Five minutes, everyone!” Mr. Conner’s voice rang over the campus. I’d been running around so much all morning, I hadn’t even gotten a chance to chat with Callie.

  I waved at her as she came over. “Let’s ride with Mike and let the Trio go with Mr. Conner,” she suggested.

  I nodded. “You read my mind.”

  We hopped into Mike’s truck and waited for him to get inside. This was it—we were going to regionals! I reached in my pocket for my lucky show-day lip gloss. Well, I hoped it would be lucky. I’d bought it online last week. I smoothed the Bonne Bell cookie dough shine over my lips and passed it to Callie. She applied the gloss and handed it back to me.

  “Here we go,” Mike said, climbing into the cab. A CANTERWOOD CREST hat was pulled low over his freckled forehead. He smiled at us and started the engine.

  Callie and I looked at each other as the van crawled forward and we started down the long, winding driveway.

  My heartbeat raced. Regionals, here we come!

  “We’re here!” Callie squealed a little more than an hour later.

  Mike eased the truck up a long gravel driveway and pulled into a grassy parking area. Four trailers pulled in behind us—there were already hundreds of horses and riders roaming the grounds.

  Callie and I hopped out of the truck and onto the city of Fairfield’s show grounds. The Trio got out and walked over to us.

  “Girls, go ahead over to the check-in tent,” Mr. Conner directed us. “We’ll unload the horses.”

  I looked around and spotted a white sign with CHECK-IN TENT in red letters.

  We set off toward the tent. Vans, trailers, trainers,

  riders and horses were everywhere. It was orderly chaos. I watched a groom lead a Hanoverian and a Dutch Warmblood down a trailer ramp. The unloading area was a sea of colored blankets that protected horses from the chill.

  I can’t believe Charm’s competing against horses like these, I thought. But Charm could take them.

  We got in line for the check-in tent and I sneaked a look at the Trio. They’d certainly win blue for Best Groomed Riders. Heather and Alison had French braids. Clear polish coated their nails (no color—show rules) and they each had sparkly coats of pink lip gloss. As much as it pained me, I’d have to ask them what kind it was later. We were still in jeans and coats, but after we checked in, we’d change into our show clothes. I knew theirs would be the best from the new Dover catalog.