Pony Jumpers 6- Six to Ride

by Kate Lattey

  “Cool!” I said, mustering as much enthusiasm as I could. “So you definitely like him then?”

  “Oh yeah, he’s awesome. I’m going to tell Mum that she has to buy him for me. She just has to!”

  Tayla flung her arms around Gully’s neck and hugged him tight, and I was pleased for the pony. He needed a kid like this, to fuss over him and treat him like a superstar. He was an eager-to-please type, and a little affection went a long way with him. Some horses were like that – they genuinely cared how much you loved them, and would go the extra mile for you, even if you didn’t ride them very well. Others couldn’t care less about how many kisses you gave them, as long as you gave them a good ride every time you were in the saddle. Lucas was in Gully’s camp – he’d try his little heart out for me no matter what kind of distance I put him to. Molly leaned more in the other direction, disdaining cuddles while never ruling out the slam-on-the-brakes-and-teach-Katy-a-lesson option if I put her into a fence completely wrong.

  Tori, I suspected, would be a lot like that too. I just had to get her on my side, that was all.

  I waved goodbye to Tayla and her mum as they drove away, Gully’s splotchy rear end just visible over the high float ramp behind their car. See ya, Seagull. Don’t go bucking anyone off.

  “That’s one more down,” Mum said in satisfaction as she pocketed the cheque. “Now we’ve just got to get Robin back in work and ready to sell.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Have a little faith, Katy. The right home is always out there.” She looked at her watch and tutted. “Is that the time already? I’d better get started on the feeds.”

  I picked up a grooming kit and headed towards Tori’s box. “I’ll just give her a quick flick and chuck a rug on her, then turn her out,” I told Mum, who hesitated.

  “Do you want me to help you?”

  I cast her a scathing look. “I’m not five. I think I can manage that much on my own.”

  She still looked dubious, but nodded and headed towards the feed room as I slid back the latch and stepped into Tori’s box. She hadn’t settled much in the intervening hours, only occasionally snatching mouthfuls of hay from the net in the corner before resuming her irritated pacing back and forth.

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “You can relax. I know it’s not as flash here as you’re used to, but I’ll be nice to you, I promise.”

  Tori eyed me warily as I stepped towards her, then threw her head up in alarm as Dad’s Range Rover drove too quickly into the yard, and scraped to a stop next to Mum’s battered old Toyota Corolla. I ignored him.

  “Let’s start with some bribery.” I had a piece of carrot in my hand, and I held it out in Tori’s direction. “D’you like carrots?”

  Tori tossed her head again, then took a step towards me. I smiled, crossed the space between us and gave her the carrot with one hand while clipping the leadrope to her halter with the other. I ran a hand down her glossy neck as she crunched up the treat messily, spraying flecks of orange into the bedding at our feet.

  “Table manners could use some work,” I told her as I led her to the front of the box. I decided to err on the side of caution and keep her inside instead of bringing her out to groom her, just in case she decided to mimic Lucas’s pulling back trick from earlier and take herself off for an unsupervised exploration of our property. I tied her to the ring in the wall and picked up a body brush as Dad strode up with his hands in his pockets.

  “Not a bad piece of horseflesh, if I do say so myself,” he declared, looking very pleased with himself as he ran his eyes over Tori. Mum had just come out of the feed room with an armload of buckets, and she gave him a brief nod as he caught her eye. “What do you think, Deb?” he asked her. “Did we make a good choice?”

  He sounded so confident, so sure of himself. I ran the body brush in firm strokes across Tori’s gleaming coat, watching her thin skin twitch and ripple under my touch.

  “She’s a nice-looking animal,” Mum conceded, hoisting the feed buckets against her hip. Lucas whinnied and banged at his stable door, and Mum slung the top bucket into his manger, shutting him up instantly. “But she’s a lot of horse for Katy to handle.”

  I shot Mum a disparaging look, but Dad spoke up before I could. “I’m sure Katy can manage her. She rode her beautifully when we went to trial her.”

  I blushed, turning back towards my horse and brushing her rounded sides. Tori swung her head towards me and gave me a suspicious look out of the corner of her eye as I worked my way towards her hindquarters. As soon as the body brush touched her flank, she shifted away from me, moving out of reach. I laid one hand on her back as I stepped in again and resumed brushing. This time she was less subtle, snatching her hind leg into the air and swinging it in my direction. Caught off guard, I didn’t move away in time and the edge of her shod hoof met the inside of my right knee.

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “Hey!”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Dad’s head swivel back in my direction. “What’s that?”

  My eyes were watering slightly, but Mum was marching off across the yard with the feed buckets and I didn’t want to show weakness in front of my father, so I shook my head. “Nothing. She’s just stamping a bit. She’s okay.” I scratched the point of Tori’s hip with my fingernails, and she shot me another filthy look.

  I gritted my teeth and carried on grooming her, making a mental note that she didn’t much like being touched around the flank. I soon discovered that she didn’t like being touched on the inside of her thigh either, or really anywhere on her hind legs, or her flank on the other side, or under her belly, or on her chest…

  “You are a sensitive creature, aren’t you?” I asked her idly as I tossed the body brush back into my grooming box and rummaged around for a hoofpick.

  “Typical woman,” Dad joked, and I scowled at him as I straightened up.

  “That’s sexist.”

  “Is it sexist if it’s true?” My expression must have darkened further because he looked slightly taken aback as he met my eyes. “Lighten up Katy, it was a joke.”

  “Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

  “It was a Dad joke. Those are meant to be bad.”

  “Uh huh.”

  I pushed down my irritation as I turned back towards Tori, reminding myself yet again that this incredible horse was here because of him. Be nice. I stepped in against the mare’s shoulder and ran my hand down her foreleg, clicking my tongue to encourage her to lift her hoof. She ignored me, so I pushed my shoulder against hers, but I might as well have been trying to shift the Great Wall of China for all the effect that it had. After a prolonged and ineffective attempt to change her mind, I stood up straight and looked her in the eye.

  “Come on now, behave yourself,” I told the mare, but she wasn’t paying attention to me. Instead she was focused on Dad, who had just decided to introduce himself properly and was reaching towards her forehead, about to rub her between the eyes. Tori’s eyes widened, her ears flipped back and her nostrils wrinkled, but Dad didn’t have any kind of horse sense, and missed all the warning signs.

  “Careful…” I started to say, but Tori was quicker, lifting her head out of his reach before lunging forward and snapping at him, catching the edge of his hand with her big teeth. Dad swore and jumped backwards, startling Tori who also jumped backwards, only she landed on my foot, making me yelp as well. I shoved her off and hopped to the other side of the stable as Dad cradled his hand and glared at me as though it was all my fault.

  “What did she do that for?” he demanded, looking furious.

  “I told you, she’s sensitive,” I said, gingerly testing my weight on my bruised foot. It was sore, but it wasn’t broken. I didn’t think. It was not allowed to be broken, and I resolutely forced it to bear my weight.

  “They didn’t tell us that she was vicious,” Dad muttered, turning his hand over and looking at it from every angle. She’d left clear teeth marks in the fleshy part at the side of his
hand, but hadn’t managed to draw blood.

  “She’ll be okay.” I tried to sound convinced, and I refused to allow myself to limp as I walked back over to Tori and put a hand on her shoulder. Her skin twitched under my touch. “She’s just unsettled, that’s all. I’m going to put her in the paddock and let her chill out for the night.”

  I abandoned any thought I’d had of attempting to work with Tori that day, reluctantly admitting that Mum had been right, and I’d probably have been best to just turn her out and let her settle in without attempting to bond with her right away. I threw a cover on her, dodging another couple of peevish stomps as I did the back and belly straps, and keeping a wary eye on her ever-ready teeth as I buckled the front and fastened the neck straps. Dad stepped back, giving us a wide berth as I untied Tori from the wall and led her out of the box and across the yard towards the orchard.

  My new horse more or less dragged me to the paddock, and when I tried to take her halter off by pulling it over her ears, she threw her head up with such force that she almost lifted me off my feet before shooting backwards at high speed. I held onto the leadrope and after a moment of Tori thrashing around like a fish at the end of the line, the halter slipped off her head and set her free. She took off bucking, her hooves thundering across the short grass, and Squib bounced along the fenceline next to her in a state of great excitement, his tail sticking straight up in the air.

  “Don’t you dare jump in there with her,” I warned the grey pony. “She’ll have you for breakfast.”

  I turned back towards the gate, where my father was watching Tori tear up the grass with narrowed eyes.

  “You okay?” he asked me, noticing the limp that I had forgotten to conceal as I gazed down at my rope-burned hands.

  I snapped my head up and evened my stride. “Fine.”

  Dad still looked dubious. “I hope I haven’t made a big mistake.”

  “You haven’t,” I told him, putting as much conviction into my voice as I could muster. “She’ll be fine. It’ll all work out in the end. You’ll see.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It wasn’t until late that evening that I remembered my promise to AJ, and logged onto Facebook to check in with Tess. I opened Messenger, then sat there staring at the empty box, trying to think of a way to be reasonably subtle about my line of questioning. I’d only managed to start out with Hey hows it going? when a new window popped up. It was Susannah.

  Nice horse you’ve got there!! she’d written, followed by a series of enthusiastic-looking emoji. I frowned at the message, wondering how she knew. I hadn’t told anyone about Tori yet. I hadn’t wanted to tempt fate by announcing her purchase before she arrived, just in case she’d failed her vetting or Dad had changed his mind or something. And now that she’d arrived, I wasn’t about to declare publicly that I had a slightly mental horse that I couldn’t control on the ground, especially since I had no idea what she’d be like tomorrow when I tried to ride her.

  Good work Sherlock I’m impressed! How’d you know? I wrote back.

  Susannah fired her response back quickly. Hardly detective work, it’s all over FB. Shes gorgeous, I’m totally jealous!

  I frowned, still confused. Had I missed something? I went back to my home screen and scrolled down. It didn’t take long to find it. A cold shiver ran down my back as I stared at the image onscreen. I’d vaguely noticed when I was trialling Tori that one of the grooms had a camera, but I hadn’t paid them much attention. I cringed at the sight of my daggy jodhs and battered old boots, but at least my eq looked decent over the big oxer. It had been set at the end of a line, so all I’d had to do was keep Tori straight and sit still. I half-smiled as I looked at it, remembering the power and grace of the horse underneath me, the way she’d made me feel like I could jump the moon and collect the stars on the way down. Who cared if she was a bit difficult on the ground? Mum was a whiz with ground work, she’d have her sorted out in no time, and she’d been so incredible to ride that it would all be worth it anyway.

  I ran my eyes over the brief caption. SOLD. 6yo Victorious LR (by Spectacular out of Queen Victoria) has been sold to a talented young rider in Hawke’s Bay. We are expecting to see great things from them in the near future! Someone else had tagged me in the photo, and sixty-eight people had already liked it. I made myself the sixty-ninth, then clicked Comment and typed a quick response, allowing myself a white lie or two.

  Thanks so much, we love her already! She’s settling in well and I can’t wait to get her out and about.

  I hit Enter, then went back to the chat with Susannah.

  I see what you mean! Haha no pressure yikes

  Susannah didn’t respond immediately, so I finished composing my message to Tess. Hey, hows it going? Haven’t seen you in a while and wanted to check in with how you’re getting on. How’s Hayley doing?

  It wasn’t very subtle, in the end, but that had never been one of my strong suits.

  Susannah popped back up onscreen. So what else is new? I haven’t heard from AJ in a while, is she grounded or something?

  Oops. Um, or something…

  Half an hour later, I logged off and shut my laptop, feeling drained. Susannah hadn’t said it in so many words, but I could tell she was disappointed that I hadn’t told her about AJ’s accident sooner. My excuse that I hardly ever went on Facebook hadn’t really flown with her, but it was true. Some people practically lived their whole lives online, updating their status every ten minutes and sharing and liking stuff almost constantly, but I’ve never seen the need to share my entire personal life with the wider world.

  Apparently my friends felt the same way – or at least, Tess did. She hadn’t responded to my message, and when I’d tried to do some detective work of my own, I’d come up empty-handed. The most recent post on her Facebook page was a photo she’d been tagged in at the Christmas Classic last month, looking shell-shocked after her win in the Pony Grand Prix. Somehow, despite the fact that up until that day she’d been terrified of her pony and had never made it around a Grand Prix without having refusals or falling off, she’d jumped the only clear round at Taupo for the prestigious win. I still wasn’t quite sure how she’d done it, or what had changed, but I was pleased for her. It took guts to ride a pony like Misty, who was at least as volatile as Squib had been lately, and Tess had never been a bold rider. But she’d put her fears aside at Taupo, nailed the track that the rest of us had struggled over, and had been a worthy winner that day. I’d been stuck at the back of the line-up after burying Molly at the first fence and catching a flyer at the last, both bad rider decisions that had ended with rails on the ground. To be perfectly honest, I’d been lucky that she hadn’t stopped and flung me over the jumps on my own with the way I’d been riding. My attempts to contact Hayley had been equally fruitless. Either she’d blocked me from seeing her Facebook page or she’d deleted it altogether. I couldn’t decide which was more unlikely – that I could’ve unwittingly done something that had caused her to dismiss me as a friend, or that a social butterfly like her had quit Facebook entirely.

  I puzzled over it for a while, but when I laid down to sleep that night, all my brain wanted to think about was the photo of me and Tori soaring over that oxer with room to spare, and those words that wouldn’t stop running through my head, over and over on an endless loop. We are expecting to see great things from them in the near future.

  We are expecting…great things…in the near future.

  The near future.

  Great things.

  I thought about the wild and tempestuous mare out in the paddock, who hadn’t let me get within three metres of her when I’d gone out to check on her after dinner and was probably still pacing the fence line angrily like she’d done most of the day, and wondered how on earth I was going to live up to everyone’s expectations.

  * * *

  The early morning air was crisp and cool, but the cloudless sky overhead pointed towards another blisteringly hot day. My feet hit the tarmac along th
e edge of the road in a staccato beat, driving everything else out of my head. I’d jumped out of bed as soon as I woke up, desperate to be moving, to be doing something. It was only now, as the breath started to feel heavier in my lungs, as my legs started to ache and a narrow trickle of sweat made its way down the small of my back, that I started to relax. My foot throbbed painfully, a sharp reminder with every step of Tori’s difficult behaviour, and of the challenges that lay ahead. I tried to ignore the nagging voice that kept asking me if I was good enough, whether I was going to be able to succeed, or if I’d just given everyone grandstand seats to watch me fail.

  The piercing whine of a small but powerful engine came from up ahead, and I looked up to see a bright yellow dirt bike racing towards me. I kept going, focusing on the long black stretch of tarmac that lay ahead. The bike slowed as it approached, then stopped just past me, idling in the middle of the narrow road as I jogged resignedly towards it.

  Phil flipped up his visor and looked at me. “You’re up early,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the helmet.

  “Same to you,” I replied, stopping alongside him and allowing my lungs to gulp some much-needed air. Phil was an old friend, and it would be rude to just run past when he’d clearly stopped to talk to me, but I wasn’t really in the mood for a chat. I needed to move.

  He pulled his helmet off and shook his head, dark brown hair standing up at awkward angles.

  “So what’s all this?” he asked, motioning at my shorts and sneakers as though they were some kind of strange attire not commonly seen in New Zealand, which was the complete opposite of the truth.

  “Trying to get fit, what does it look like?” I could feel my muscles cooling down and my bruised foot was throbbing painfully. I shifted my weight off it as I waited for him to get to the point.

  “Thought that was what you spent all day riding horses for.”

  “Well clearly you thought wrong.” I tried to put weight back onto my foot and winced involuntarily. “Since when’ve you cared what I do, anyway?”