Catch Rider (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 28)

by Claire Svendsen

  Lexi had looked ridiculous with Walter leading her like a baby. If I couldn’t get the mare into the ring, then I had no right riding her in the first place.

  “We’ve got this,” I added.

  “I know you do,” Dad said. “Good luck.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

  Riding Grace was what I imagined driving a car that ran on rocket fuel would be like. She had energy that even my speedy pony had never tapped into. We practically bolted into the ring and I couldn’t get her to stand. I just sort of nodded to the judge, afraid to take a hand off the reins for even one second. As we cantered around the ring, waiting for the bell, I saw Lexi limping out of the other ring, leading her horse. She was heading back to the barn and Walter was striding in this direction to watch our class. He’d see everything that I did. That put the pressure on but I was here to win anyway.

  Judy had told me that one of the girls who had ridden with us that morning was the one that Walter had primed to win, a pretty blonde with big blue eyes. She had a classy looking bay, one that didn’t have a roman nose or big ears. Judy said that the girl was due a win and she’d heard Walter tell her that he’d make sure she’d get it. That meant that I wasn’t the favorite today. Not even close.

  The loss on Lucky still stung. I felt betrayed. Walter had sabotaged me and the horse I was riding to line his own pocket with owners who’d let him pick and choose who would win and who would not. Of course that didn’t account for all the other riders in the ring who didn’t ride with him. He wasn’t the only trainer with talented students at the show. Any one of them could easily pull out a win but today I was going to make sure that we were the ones who walked away with the blue ribbon, no matter what Walter’s plan was. Even if it did mean that he’d never ask me to ride for him again.

  The bell rang and Grace took off like a racehorse. This was a speed class and she was a speed horse. She knew what she was doing. It made me miss Socks. He would have loved this class. I wished that we’d been able to afford to bring him. But there wasn’t time to think about other horses when the one I was riding took every single ounce of energy I had to control.

  We flew over the first fence, the green poles flashing beneath us. My shoulder ached as I gave the mare her head over the fence. I tried to ignore the pain as we galloped on. Grace was handy, she rode like a pony. I was able to make her turns tight and clean and I knew we were faster than anyone who’d gone before us.

  The tricky line was ahead of us, the vertical to the water. Grace hopped over the fence and then stretched out her stride to face the water jump. I could see the white strip glinting in the sunlight, the one that would signal if we had a toe in like Judy or not.

  Grace flew over the water like it was a tiny puddle, galloping on to the skinny plank fence and then the fan oxer. My hands were slick with sweat inside my gloves, Grace’s neck was dark and damp.

  She was puffing beneath me. I could feel her breath slightly labored as her sides sucked in and out and I worried that I was pushing her too hard. I didn’t know anything about her conditioning. She had the strength for a course like this but did she have the stamina? These were the things that I should have been able to trust that Walter had taken care off. The things that you usually wouldn’t question a trainer about but now I questioned everything that Walter did. I couldn’t trust him. I could only trust my own judgement.

  The final line was coming up, a double combination leading to the final fence, a big oxer. We bounced through the double and galloped on. We only had one more jump. Grace had her ears pricked. I knew that she was tired because she’d stopped pulling against me and I let her pick her own pace. We both saw the same take off spot, her ears flicked back and forth and she took it.

  I don’t know what happened. Maybe she hung a leg. Perhaps she misjudged the fence and thought it was a vertical instead of a wide, square oxer. But one minute we were in the air and the next we both slammed into the ground.

  CHAPTER FIFTY TWO

  There was sand in my face. In my mouth. In my ears. The sound of thrashing hooves inches away from my head. I scrambled away on all fours. Grace was making a sound I’d never heard a horse make before. A guttural cry. I knew she’d been injured. I didn’t care if I had been.

  The crowd was silent or maybe that was just the ringing in my ears that made it hard to tell. People rushed forward to help. Someone asked if I was okay. I nodded, wiping the sand from my eyes and spitting it out of my mouth along with the blood I could taste. I’d bitten the inside of my cheek.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “Help Grace.”

  The mare was still down. Still thrashing. Horses jumped up if they were okay. They took off around the ring, trailing their reins until someone caught them. They didn’t stay there on the ground.

  The jump poles were scattered all around us like twigs. Some of them were broken.

  “What happened?” I asked but no one replied.

  I tried to get to Grace but they held me back.

  “I need to see her,” I said.

  “Just wait,” a steward said.

  But I pushed past him, through the crowd that had formed a barrier so that mothers and their children couldn’t see the horror that could happen. The thing that everyone feared and no one talked about. But I could see it. Grace’s leg twisted all wrong. Broken. And a broken leg might as well have been a death sentence.

  I ran to her head. Held it in my lap. She was calm now but her eyes were still wide with fear. Someone had called the vet and he’d rushed over to sedate her. I watched as her eyes grew dim when he injected the clear liquid into her vein.

  “It’s going to be okay.” I stroked her face gently. “Everything is going to be fine. You did such a good job today and they’ll fix you right up. I know they will.”

  My father was there with Walter, both men looking down at us. The girl and the horse with the broken leg. Walter shook his head.

  “You can’t kill her,” I screamed. “I won’t let you.”

  I watched as Walter talked to the vet. Heard only parts of their conversation. Things like career ending injury. Never be sound again. Kinder to put her out of her misery.

  “The owners need to make that decision,” Walter said. “And they’re not here. Can we get her to the clinic?”

  A tractor was brought into the ring and a sling. Men helped to get the groggy mare up on her feet and loaded into a trailer.

  “Are you okay,” Dad said.

  I hadn’t left the mare’s side but now they pulled me away from her.

  “I need to go with her,” I said, tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “She’s not your horse,” Dad said gently, putting his hand on my arm.

  “But I was riding her,” I sobbed. “Please.”

  But the trailer left without me. People asked if I was alright. They told me they were sorry. I didn’t care.

  “Walter, please don’t let them kill her,” I said, pulling away from my father.

  He looked at me, all covered in arena dirt with tears streaming down my face and didn’t ask me if I was okay like everyone else. I wondered, for a moment, if he blamed me.

  “That is for the owners and the vets to decide,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, sobbing again.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” He shrugged. “She hung a leg. Got caught up in the poles. I saw the whole thing. I’ll tell the owners that you weren’t responsible.”

  Then he just left. Stewards were putting the jump back together, pulling the broken poles out of the way and replacing them with new ones. There was a strand of chestnut hair caught in the twisted wood. I pulled it out and clutched onto it as my father led me away.

  People came up to me and told me how sorry they were. I mumbled that she wasn’t my horse but they still seemed sorry for me anyway. But all I felt was guilt. I’d known that Grace was getting tired and I’d pushed her on anyway. Just one more jump, I’d told myself and now that jump had killed her.

  CHAPTE
R FIFTY THREE

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Dad said.

  He’d whisked me away to the truck and shoved me inside.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Take me to the vet clinic.”

  “I can’t,” he said. “Grace wasn’t your horse. It’s nothing to do with us.”

  “But I was riding her,” I said, my voice pitching on hysterical.

  “Yes and you’re lucky that Walter saw your round and said that it wasn’t your fault otherwise we could be looking at a law suit right now,” Dad said.

  “I don’t care about any of that,” I screamed.

  “Well you should,” Dad said, his voice raising along with mine. “Do you want your career to be ruined before it has even begun?”

  “It already has been,” I said, starting to cry.

  “It was an accident, Emily,” Dad said. “And I’m taking you home.”

  I spent the ride home huddled under a blanket on the back seat, shivering even though it wasn’t cold. I refused to sit next to my father. He’d betrayed me. He wouldn’t take me to Grace and she needed me. She needed someone who cared about her. Walter didn’t. He just saw her and her owners as cash cows. He’d probably talk them into putting her down just so that he could get a commission from selling them another horse.

  Dad stopped at a drive through and got hot coffees and donuts. I clutched the coffee but refused the food. I couldn’t eat. Just the thought made my stomach churn. Eventually I fell asleep.

  “We’re home.” It was Dad, gently shaking me awake.

  “I had the most awful nightmare,” I said with a shudder, sitting up.

  “It wasn’t a nightmare,” he replied sadly. “Come on.”

  I went into the house feeling dazed and confused. It was evening so I took off my show clothes and showered, the dirt running down the drain with the hot water. I had a bruise on my shoulder and another one on my elbow. I was lucky to have walked away. I thought about Grace, the accident replaying in my mind over and over again. The poles scattering. The way we slammed into the ground. The noise she made when her leg snapped just like the jump poles. Tears streamed down my face but the water washed them away. At least here I could cry without anyone judging me.

  I crawled into bed even though it was still early. I didn’t want to face anyone. Bluebird was at the gate, banging for his dinner. Arion was behind him along with Hashtag and Socks. Sunny was still in the paddock of panels. The mare and foal and miniature were in their small field. Canterbury was next to them in his. I could see my father and Cat bringing Bourbon and Bailey into the barn and Jordan going to fetch Wizard. Faith was down there too, taking her pony Macaroni out to the ring. Her mother had obviously dropped her off after school. And over on Jess’s farm a gray horse was being ridden over a course of jumps. Harlow. I didn’t want to see any of them.

  I turned away from the window and buried my head in my pillow. Patrick lay next to me, his nose buried in my arm. Someone had let him into my room and now he wouldn’t leave my side and I needed him. Right now vets were assessing Grace’s injuries and deciding if she was a candidate for surgery or euthanasia. And even if they could operate on her leg, she’d never jump again. Maybe she’d be lucky and eventually be sound again but probably only as a pasture pet. The owners would have had her insured. If she was put to sleep, they could use that money to get a new horse. If she lived and was unsound for life all they’d be stuck with was a horse they couldn’t use. I knew how the world worked. I wasn’t naive enough to think they’d really save her.

  I cried into my pillow until I couldn’t cry anymore. My eyes were sore and swollen, my nose red. At some point someone tapped on my door but I didn’t answer and when they turned the handle to peek inside, I buried my head under the covers and pretended to be asleep. It was all too hard. The horses I rode weren’t machines. They weren’t like a bike or a tennis racquet. You couldn't just replace them. And what if something awful like that happened to Bluebird? If he got seriously injured while I was riding him, I knew I’d just die. Maybe it wasn’t worth it. Maybe it was better just to love them as pets and never put them in harm's way.

  The thought flowed through my mind like it belonged to someone else. Like it was the voice of reason talking to me for the first time in a long time.

  Maybe I should just quit.

  THE END

  COMING SOON

  SHOW JUMPING DREAMS #29: LEAD CHANGE

  A devastating accident on a prized show jumper has caused Emily to question her riding goals. In fact, she’s decided that maybe she should just quit. If anything bad was to happen to Bluebird she would just die. She wants to keep him and all her other horses safe and the only way to do that is to let them live out their lives as pasture pets.

  Now Emily’s father and the team trainer, Duncan, have the job of convincing her that she should not only ride again but that competing is the best thing for her. The next team event is coming up and if Emily doesn’t ride, she’ll be off the team for good. She doesn’t care right now but they know eventually she will, even though she wants nothing to do with them.

  Instead Emily throws herself into helping Faith find a new pony. Macaroni has found a home up north just before the hot weather arrives in Florida and Faith needs a replacement. But the pony that Faith falls in love with is scruffy and untrained and if Faith is going to ride him, she’ll need more than help. She’ll need a miracle. And so will Emily, if she’s ever going to ride again.

  LEAD CHANGE: CHAPTER ONE

  “Go away,” I said.

  The knock came again, this time louder. Luckily I’d locked my door. The handle jiggled but they couldn’t get in. Patrick sat up and growled, showing the whites of his teeth. I put my hand on his warm, black fur and his tail thumped against the bed a couple of times.

  “Aren’t you going to come down and help us with the horses?” Cat said, her voice muffled from behind the door.

  “No,” I replied.

  “Please?” she said.

  She’d been trying to get me to go down for hours but I wasn’t budging. It was almost lunchtime and I was still in bed. There hadn’t seemed much point in getting up. I knew the others could feed and muck stalls. They didn’t need me for that. Besides, I was waiting for Judy to call me back. She was going out to Walter’s barn and soon I’d learn what had happened to Grace, the horse I’d ridden at the show. The horse that had fallen and broken her leg. The mare had spent the night at the vet clinic where they kept her sedated and drugged up on pain meds while they evaluated her. The owners were supposed to show up this morning to make a decision. Judy had told me that it didn’t look good.

  “Please don’t let her be put to sleep,” I’d whispered over and over again before I fell asleep.

  Rationally I knew that putting the mare out of her misery was going to be the kindest thing to do, kinder than hours of surgery and months of recovery for a life as a lame pasture pet. But if they put her down then it would be my fault. Her death would be on my hands. Her blood. At least if she was alive then I’d know that I hadn’t killed her.

  I stared out the window as Bluebird wandered over to a sandy patch in the field and his legs buckled beneath him, then he rolled, scrubbing the dirt into his chestnut coat. I closed my eyes and could see Grace crumpling beneath me, legs and broken poles flying everywhere. Sand in my face as I scrambled away from her thrashing hooves.

  She could have killed me. I could have broken a leg or something worse like my back. But she’d thrown me forward, off and away from her. She hadn’t hurt me at all. All I had were a few bruises and a lifetime of haunting nightmares to look forward to. If it had been Bluebird, I would have died. There would have been no decision to make, he would have gone straight into surgery and that would have been that. But to have him limping around the field for the rest of his life would still have been a cruel reminder that I had broken him.

  The thought crossed my mind again, the one that had floated through last night when I’d been tired and e
motionally beaten. That maybe I should just give up riding. But if I wasn’t a rider, if I didn’t compete then what was I? Just another girl with a pony. I was no one. But maybe I deserved to be no one if I was responsible for the death of a horse.

  My phone rung, vibrating on the bed next to me. It was Judy. I wanted to hear what she had to say but I also didn’t. I was sure that whatever she told me would change my life forever. I clutched Patrick closer and the strand of chestnut hair that I’d pulled from one of the broken jump poles and took a deep breath.

  “Hello?” I said.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Claire Svendsen fell in love with horses at age two when she got her first pony. The only trouble was that it wasn’t a real horse, it was a rocking horse. From that day on she begged, pleaded and bribed for lessons, riding clothes and a horse of her own. She had to wait and work really hard to finally get her first real horse but when she did, it was a dream come true. Over the years she has trained horses, given lessons and even run her own stable.

  No longer able to ride due to injury, Claire lives vicariously through the characters in her books. When she’s not busy writing, you’ll find her hanging out at the barn with her retired Thoroughbred Merlin who loves carrots, apples and bowing on command.

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