Show Time (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 17)

by Claire Svendsen

  But by the end of the lesson Dad had her jumping the course in the ring with relative ease. Even if that was only because she’d finally caught on to the fact that if she left Encore alone, he’d do everything anyway and make her look good at the same time.

  “See, I told you,” Violet said as Tara came to a halt in front of us.

  “Maybe he’s not so bad after all,” Tara grumbled.

  But I could tell that Encore had impressed her. Even someone like Tara could see that a horse like that would win you a lot of ribbons.

  “Not so bad?” Violet said. “He’s fantastic.”

  “I guess,” Tara said as she slid ungracefully to the ground. “At least I’ll get to win some classes at the Easter show this year.”

  I looked at Dad desperately. He said that I’d get to ride Encore myself at the Easter show. I’d been really looking forward to it and it would be the last time I’d get to ride him. I didn’t want Tara to ride him in the show but I couldn’t exactly say so.

  “You have a lot of ducks to get in a row first,” Dad said diplomatically. “There are vet checks and papers to be drawn up. I have to contact the sellers and make sure that they have accepted your offer.”

  “Just write the check and be done with it,” Tara snapped at her mother. “I want to start winning again.”

  Violet looked at her daughter as if she was the rudest and most embarrassing creature that had ever walked the earth. I could only assume that Tara took after her father. Violet came from a higher walk of life. One where people were dignified. Tara was nothing like dignified at all.

  “Perhaps you are right,” Violet said. “These things have to be done the right way.”

  “Good,” Dad said. “Encore is shipping to the show so you are welcome to come and watch him go with Emily.”

  “She’s riding him?” Tara glared at me. “That’s not fair. If I can’t ride him in the show then maybe I don’t want him. Maybe I’ll just go and find a better horse.”

  “A better horse will cost you almost double,” Dad said. “And you won’t find one as easy to ride as Encore is but if you don’t want him…” Dad’s voice trailed off.

  “We do,” Violet said, sticking out her hand to shake my father’s. “We want him very much. I’ll get the paperwork started right away and you’ll let me know?”

  “Of course,” Dad replied. “I’ll be in touch.”

  When they’d left Dad looked at me and shook his head.

  “That girl does not deserve this horse,” he said. “And you know you may not get to ride him in the show after all.”

  “I know,” I said. “But she rode him okay though, didn’t she? I mean, she won’t hurt him or anything?”

  Now that the sale was looking like it was going to happen, I knew I couldn’t do anything to change the fact that Tara would own Encore. But I still wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be hurt in the process.

  “The only thing she’ll hurt is herself if she doesn’t listen to what I told her,” Dad said.

  “It’s not fair,” I said, throwing my arms around Encore’s bay neck. “He should get to stay here with us forever.”

  “Horses come and go,” Dad said. “That is the business.”

  “But how can you stand it?” I said, my voice muffled by Encore’s mane.

  “You let them take a little bit of your heart with them and you fill that hole with a new horse that you will end up loving just as much,” Dad said.

  I thought I detected a quiver in his voice and wondered if he was thinking about his own horse, Canterbury. Was Missy still pressuring my father to sell him? Because if she was, that wasn’t exactly fair. No one made her sell her horses when she was pregnant and unable to ride and just because my father hadn’t had time that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to ride and show again. Once he got the suspension over ruled of course.

  “Dad,” I said. “I can ride Bluebird in the mini Grand Prix, can’t I?”

  For a moment he said nothing and then he said, “We’ll see.”

  I guess he didn’t know me at all because nothing was going to keep me out of that class and now that Missy was making an issue out of it I felt like I had even more to prove.

  “Well can I at least get another lesson tomorrow?” I said. “Please?”

  In the barn his next lesson student was tacking up her horse and Dad was already distracted and losing focus.

  “Have a look at the schedule,” he said. “If you see a space anywhere, pencil yourself in.”

  “Thanks Dad,” I said.

  I went to put my name down in any space I could find before he changed his mind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Mickey wasn’t grounded anymore but she was only able to come out three times a week after school and once on the weekends to ride. Apparently her grades had slipped and parents who wanted their kids to be doctors or lawyers couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “It’s like they want me to be president or something,” she moaned as she grabbed Hampton’s tack from her locker.

  “I want to be president,” Faith said brightly from the corner of the tack room.

  “I bet she will end up being president too,” Mickey whispered as Faith skipped merrily past us with her grooming kit in one hand and a bridle slung over her shoulder.

  She was all excited because she was getting to take her pony, Macaroni, to the show. She was riding in the pony jumpers. Of course she was riding in the ten and under division so it’s not like we would have been competing against each other or anything but it still drove home to me just how important it was to establish myself as an all-around rider and not just a pony rider.

  Macaroni was standing in the cross ties taking a nap while Faith got him ready for her group lesson with Missy. He was quite possibly the most disproportionate pony I’d ever seen, looking like he’d been pieced together with the leftovers from better ponies. His legs were too long, his body too short and his ears too big. But somehow the whole package only seemed to enhance his eccentric cuteness and Faith literally could not have loved him any more than she already did. She thought the sun shone out of his butt even though he’d been naughty lately, dumping her off a couple of times.

  “Are you ready for the Easter show?” I asked her. “Miss. President.”

  “Don’t tease,” she said, as she tightened Macaroni’s girth with a grunt. The pony suddenly woke up to the fact that his belly was being strangled and turned around to nip at Faith’s arm.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she scolded him.

  She held up her hand as a threat of what was to come if he tried to go through with biting her. He gave a sigh and hung his head instead.

  “Well I’m ready,” she said. “But Macaroni is having second thoughts.”

  “Is he?” I asked, leaning against the wall. “And why is that?”

  “He’s in love,” Faith said.

  “In love?” I said, all intrigued now. “With who?”

  “Lady Gray,” she whispered, pointing to the stall next to Macaroni’s.

  “I see,” I said.

  “But she won’t even look at him. It’s horribly tragic.”

  “Maybe she’s just playing hard to get?” I said.

  “I don’t think so,” Faith said sadly. “She just doesn’t like him at all. My poor pony.”

  She threw her arms around Macaroni’s neck.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll find a way to make her love you.”

  I didn’t like to tell Faith that it was practically impossible to make someone love you when they weren’t interested. After she’d gone out to the ring, I wandered over to the stall and stood there looking in.

  Lady Gray was a lease horse that had come in for one of the newer students. She was barely a horse at all, sticking in at just about 14.3hh but she was an Arab. Pretty. Dainty. She looked like she had walked out of a Disney cartoon. She was every little girls dream, all long flowing mane and dished face. But Lady had an attitude problem to
go with that pretty face. She thought that everyone should worship the ground she walked on and she wasn’t too keen on doing much else except being adored.

  She’d come from the Arabian breed shows where she just flaunted her way around the ring in a fancy, bejeweled halter made of golden strands and winning just by being beautiful. It was only due to the fact that her breeders had an even prettier horse that they wanted to spend their time and money on that she was here at all. That and the fact that she had jumped out of her paddock so many times that they thought maybe she was destined for a jumping career instead. Only Lady Gray thought that all seemed like too much work. She would much rather just stand there and be admired, thank you very much.

  I stood there watching her eat her hay daintily one stalk at a time, chewing it carefully before picking out the next one. If she was sipping tea out of a cup, she would have had her little finger stuck out like royalty.

  “You should give Macaroni a chance,” I said. “He might not be the handsomest pony you’ve ever laid eyes on but once you get to know him, you’ll find out he’s pretty cool.”

  Lady Gray just sighed and I knew that poor Macaroni didn’t stand a chance. If he was even interested at all in the first place. I thought it was probably just some fantasy that Faith had cooked up. After all, horses didn’t fall in love like we did. At least, I didn’t think they did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  As the Easter show inched closer and closer, everyone’s nerves seemed to get more on edge. Missy was out there every day with Socks, which wasn’t a good thing at all. I knew the horse too well now. He had a delicate brain that could easily be fried by jumping him day after day. He needed variety and days where you just hacked him around not doing much of anything. What he didn’t need was to be drilled over the course of jumps in the ring until his eyes were bugging out of his head. If Missy wanted to win the mini Grand Prix and make her big comeback, this wasn’t the way to go about it. Bluebird and I would beat the pants off her. Only we still weren’t entered.

  “Dad,” I said one morning at breakfast. “Are you going to get me the entry forms for the show or not?”

  He was sitting at the counter with a plate of toast that had gone cold, looking at something on his iPad. He didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t hear me or if he was just pretending not to hear me.

  “Dad,” I tried again.

  Missy was down at the barn already, teaching an early lesson. We were alone. I could talk about things, if he’d at least participate and talk too.

  “Sorry, what?” he said, looking up at me.

  “The entry forms. The show. You know I need to get Bluebird into that mini Grand Prix.”

  “Have you talked to Missy about it?” he said uneasily.

  “Talked to Missy?” I spluttered. “She’s not my mother. I don’t need her permission. I’m asking you.”

  “Talk to Missy about it,” he said, going back to whatever he was reading.

  “But Dad,” I cried.

  He held up his hand and shook his head. I knew that meant he wasn’t going to discuss it any further. He was infuriating like that. If he didn’t want to talk about something then he just shut down like a robot. I threw the cloth I’d been drying the dishes with on the counter but my little dramatic display went unnoticed. If I wanted attention I was going to have to smash some dishes or something but I’d just put them all away and besides, I knew that I’d be the one who would have to clean up the mess. Somehow it didn’t seem worth it. I was going to have to come up with another plan. A different plan. One that was sneaky and didn’t involve people yelling at each other or at me. And I was getting good at sneaky. Really good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  “So you’re just going to enter anyway when you get to the show?” Mickey asked.

  We’d taken Arion and Hampton out on the trail and I was telling her my plan. It had sounded so much more dastardly in my head.

  “Pretty much,” I said. “But I’m not telling anyone. Not my father or Missy. By the time they call my number, I’ll be in the ring and they won’t be able to do anything about it.”

  “And so how are you going to get out of the pony jumpers class?” she said.

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head.

  “Maybe if you win the mini Grand Prix then you won’t have to bother with the pony jumper class,” Mickey said.

  “But the pony jumpers are first thing in the morning. The Grand Prix is the last class of the day so that there will be a big crowd.”

  “Well maybe Bluebird can do both?”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  But I didn’t feel like it was exactly fair on my pony. I needed him fresh and ready to jump for the Grand Prix and if he’d already done a fast class then he wouldn’t be as fresh as if he’d been resting in his stall all day like Socks would have been.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I groaned, flopping down on Arion’s neck.

  “Stop being so melodramatic,” Mickey said. “Which class to ride in at a fancy show? Those are first world horse problems. At least you have a horse and can go to shows.”

  “Wow,” I said, looking at her half upside down and sideways from my spot on Arion’s neck. “What’s got into you?”

  “Nothing,” she said.

  “It’s not nothing.” I sat up. “I know you. Spill it.”

  “There is this new girl at school and I just feel sorry for her, that’s all. She moved here from Texas to live with her grandparents because her parents lost their business and her father got cancer and it’s just awful because she had to leave her horses behind.”

  “Well can’t she just get them shipped here?” I said.

  “They were sold,” Mickey said. “And she didn’t have any say in the matter.”

  “That is horrible,” I said. “I’d never let that happen to Bluebird or Arion. I’d run away with them or something.”

  “You could run away but you wouldn’t get very far with two horses, no truck or trailer and no job.”

  “I’d …”

  “What?” Mickey interrupted me. “Join the circus? I don’t think it’s as easy to join the circus as you think it is. Plus they’d probably be obligated to report you to the authorities since you are under age and they’d figure out you were a runaway and send you straight home.”

  “Spoil sport,” I said.

  But it made me realize again how important money was. And how having very little of it made everything more difficult. Owning horses was like having children. They relied on you for food and shelter and that cost money. Life with my mother had been unpredictable and it was turning out that life with my father was much of the same. I needed to start putting away more money in case the day ever came when I was going to have to support my horses on my own. I paid for all their needs now but that didn’t include board and board was expensive. Like fancy car payment expensive. Or small apartment rent expensive. And if the worst ever happened then I wanted to be prepared for it, unlike the new girl at Mickey’s school.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Dad refused to talk about the Easter show again, which I thought was horribly unfair. But he wasn’t around much anyway. He went to another meeting with the Equestrian Federation. His investigator had put together a packet of information about the tainted supplement and my father was presenting it in hopes of getting his suspension revoked. There were some big shows over the summer. I knew that he’d set his hopes on riding in them. Missy wasn’t the only one eager to rekindle her riding career and while they were busy focusing on rekindling, I was simply trying to get mine started in the first place.

  Since no one was offering me the entry forms for the show, I went online and managed to get them myself. The show was old school and they weren’t entirely digital. But I’d printed the forms and filled them out and had them hidden in the bag that I kept my show jacket in. I’d take them to the show and hand them in on the day and sure I’d have a late fee but it would be worth
it to see their faces when I jumped around that mini Grand Prix course and won.

  Bluebird was coming along really nicely. His over exuberance at coming back to work after a week off was settling down into a ready to go pony. I tried to jump him every other day and not over whole courses but gymnastics instead that would strengthen his muscles. I didn’t want him to peak too soon. He couldn’t if I was going to pull this off. And Arion seemed to be doing well. A couple of times I’d noticed that he finished all his hay. If the ulcer medication was working this well then it was likely that he wouldn’t need any more treatment except for preventative measures during times of stress, for which my wallet would be entirely grateful.

  The only downside to everything was that it looked like the sale of Encore was going to go through. The owners had accepted Violet’s offer and there was talk of scheduling a vet check. I might still be able to ride him at the Easter show but the sooner everything went through, the less chance of that there would be.

  “I really, really don’t want her to have you,” I told Encore as I hosed him off after our ride.

  Dad had told me to keep him fit and in shape so I had been jumping him on the days that I didn’t jump Bluebird and they both got ridden on the flat on their alternate days. With each ride Encore became better and better. I’d known all along he was good but I don’t think I’d really appreciated how very good he was. He had the skill set to take a rider really far. And if Tara started winning classes that I was entered in then it would really suck.

  “Maybe once she gets you home she’ll get bored with you and decide she really does hate you and then you can come back here,” I said, swinging the sweat scraper under his belly. The water splashed over my boots, seeping inside and making my socks wet.