Rose and Star rode to North Menasha at the leisurely pace that Uncle Ned set. She was anxious; she still had so much to do!
Uncle Ned looked at her sideways as they trotted along. “I know you’ve gotten through to Star. Everyone at the stables says you have quite a way with horses. You did a good job, Rose.”
“Good enough to—” Rose started hopefully.
“I’m sorry, no,” Uncle Ned said. “He’s still too difficult with everyone else. What can I do with a one-girl horse? I’m sorry, Rose. I’m not keeping him.”
When they arrived at Angel’s Field in North Menasha, Uncle Ned led the way to the holding pen for the horses to be auctioned. All sorts of horses, all sizes and shapes, with saddles removed, moved about restlessly.
“We’re early, they’re not all here yet,” Uncle Ned said. His expert eye scanned the available stock. “You want to ride Star in, Rose? Take off his saddle and everything else of ours. Just leave the bridle and reins so he can be led to the auction.”
There was a closed gate with a watchman. If I take Star in, she thought, I won’t be able to get him out! He’ll be released only to a buyer or his legitimate owner!
Uncle Ned noticed her hesitation. “I shouldn’t have let you come,” he said. “I’ll take care of it, you can run along.” His voice was scratchy. “I’ve said good-bye to a lot of horses in my time. It’s never easy.”
“I can handle it, I promise,” Rose said quickly. “I’m all right. I want…I want to groom him first and make him look good. See, I have his grooming kit.”
Uncle Ned nodded. “Not a bad idea.”
“I’ll bring Star back here and I’ll meet you later, Uncle Ned. At the bleachers with my parents and Aunt Norma.”
Rose watched Uncle Ned ride off to hitch Monogram up. The field was full of people and horses. She led Star to a water trough. She was surprised by the size of the crowd. The horse fair had to be major entertainment for all the surrounding towns. The smell of frankfurters and buns, introduced at the St. Louis World’s Fair only two years before, drifted over the field. A line of children clamored at the pony rides. Rose patted Star. “Easy now,” she whispered, to keep him calm in all the confusion. But he’d been a race horse, she thought, so it wasn’t new to him. The cloying smell of cotton candy mixed with the odor of manure.
Rose rode to a temporary tent divided into makeshift stalls of canvas and wooden dowels. Rose’s yellow entry card gave Star admittance. She led him along a long grass aisle and then, gratefully, she spotted Kat, Amanda, and Lizabeth. They were saving an empty compartment.
Rose dismounted quickly. There was still so much to do!
“I’ll pin up your hair,” Lizabeth offered.
“I have to check the course first.” Rose handed her grooming kit to Kat. “Could you brush him?”
“Don’t be long,” Amanda said, “It’s almost eleven-thirty.”
Rose found the show arena. It was surrounded by bleachers. Overhead there was a leftover sign from a Cranberry–North Menasha high school football game. The fences for the jumps were set up and some men were walking the course. Her heart was beating fast. Whoa, she told herself. Don’t rush. Focus.
There were twelve jumps altogether, X-jumps and verticals, mostly the standard two feet and three inches. Jumps four and ten were oxers: two verticals set close together with the height matching the depth, easier than they might look to new riders.
Rose walked through. Most of the fences were well-spaced. She estimated the correct take-off points. Later there’d be no time to think. Rose spoke aloud to help herself memorize the course.
“Three is high, gather him, back well-rounded.”
She had to mentally break down the course into a series of three or four jumps, with a beginning, middle, and end, with time for breathing, rebalancing, and turns.
“Five. Jump at an angle to get in position for six.” Five was a tricky one! “Change the bend of his body, change the lead as you go over.”
Ten, the other oxer. “Tight space between nine and ten. Shorten his stride.”
Rose wished she had time for another walk-through. She ran back to the tent, repeating over and over, “Three high, five angle, shorten stride between nine and ten.”
Star whinnied to greet her. Kat held the knickers out. “I’ll get Star ready first,” Rose said.
She checked his hoofs. Clean. She put a drop of oil on a damp rag and went over his body with long, slow strokes. The glistening dark chestnut coat highlighted his powerful muscles. There was not a speck on his mane or forelock to mar the deep inky black.
Amanda came running into the tent. “Rose, they’re calling for the jumpers to line up!”
The other girls blocked the entrance of the canvas stall and Rose changed quickly into the knickers. “Three high, five angle, shorten stride between nine and ten.” Amanda fastened the tie around her neck. Lizabeth pinned up her hair, pins scraping against her scalp, and placed the riding hat on top.
Rose led Star out of the tent and mounted. “You and Star,” Kat said. “What a team!”
Rose nodded, too frozen to speak. If only she could have arrived at ten o’clock and walked through the course a second time…
She started Star on a slow walk on the path to the arena, with Kat, Amanda, and Lizabeth walking by her side. Suddenly her legs nudged Star to a complete halt.
“No,” Rose said. She looked at her friends’ startled faces. “I can’t do this!”
eighteen
The back of a horse was the one place where Rose had always felt whole, balanced, and comfortable at the very center of her being. But now she was jangling inside, out of tune, pins pulling at her hair, knickers tugging, uneasy in her own skin. Midnight Star stamped and pawed nervously at the ground. He was sensing her discomfort and multiplying it. It was all wrong.
“I can’t do this,” Rose repeated.
“You can’t be that scared,” Kat said in dismay.
“You’ve gone to so much trouble,” Lizabeth said.
“Don’t let stage fright stop you now,” Amanda pleaded.
“Oh, I’m going to jump,” Rose said, “but not in disguise.” She dismounted and handed the reins to Kat. She pulled off the tie and riding hat and loosened her hair. “As myself! Kat, please hold Star and give me my skirt.”
“You can’t!” Amanda was shocked. “They won’t let you!”
“I have to. This feels too wrong.”
“You don’t have time,” Kat said. “They’re calling the first jumper!”
“I’m last, number ten,” Rose called over her shoulder as she ran back to the stall. “I can make it.” She squirmed out of the knickers and pulled on her divided skirt. The soft, worn leather felt easy and right. She adjusted the riding hat over her free-flowing black mane, and raced back to Star. She mounted. Her pulse was pounding. The worried good wishes of her friends trailed behind her and she nudged the horse into a trot.
“It’s you and me now, Star,” she whispered into his mane. “It’s up to us.”
Rose and Star entered the arena and joined the line of other horses and riders waiting to compete. A man with a megaphone guarded the entry gate. She scanned the crowd sitting in the bleachers. Momma and Poppa, Aunt Norma and Uncle Ned. She saw Kat, Amanda, and Lizabeth rushing through the benches to join them.
“Number Six,” the official shouted into the megaphone. “Alan Montgomery, riding Sterling!”
Rose watched the gray mare and her rider take the warm-up trot around the arena and then canter to the first fence. Sterling’s approach was enthusiastic, but she didn’t have much spring in her jumps. The mare was trying hard, but she didn’t always get her hind legs out of the way in time to avoid brushing the top rail of the fence. Rose felt for Sterling. All heart but not much talent.
“Number Seven! John Stevens, riding Bluebonnet!” A solid display of good horsemanship.
“Number Eight! Daniel Albright, riding Thundercloud!” A good start, but they slowed down o
n the approach to jump five—the worst thing the rider could do. Maybe he was worried about the angle coming up. It resulted in Thundercloud’s refusal and then—
The gatekeeper interrupted Rose’s thoughts. “Sorry miss, you have to move out of the way.”
“Pardon me?”
“You can’t stay here. You’re in the way of the jumpers.”
“I am a jumper!” Rose handed him her entry card. “Number Ten. R. L., that’s me. Rose Lorraine Forbes riding Midnight Star.”
He looked her over. His expression went from befuddlement to irritation. “That’s impossible! No girls!” He put the megaphone to his mouth. “Number Nine. Bill Laramie, riding Sweet Caroline!”
“I’m sorry, sir, but that’s my entry card, my official entry card, and I’m up next!”
“Don’t make trouble, miss. Now move along!” He took Star’s reins in his hand and tugged.
“Don’t touch my horse.” Rose’s voice was pure steel; Star started to rear. “I’m jumping! I’m Number Ten and nothing and no one is going to stop me now!”
Is that me speaking? Rose marveled. She was throwing all her fears away!
The gatekeeper’s face reddened. Maybe it was the threat in Rose’s glittering black eyes, or perhaps he decided he didn’t want to be trampled by a massive chestnut horse, or maybe he simply wished to avoid a scene. He dropped the reins and looked around for another official to handle the problem, but he seemed to be alone.
Number Ten!” he finally called through the megaphone.
“Rose Lorraine Forbes,” Rose prompted.
“Rose Lorraine Forbes, riding Midnight Star!”
Rose and Star rode around the arena in a warm-up trot. She heard the surprised gasp from the crowd and then the hostile buzz all around her. “A girl?” “That’s indecent!” “What in the world is she wearing?” She could see the frowns and outraged faces. But then only one came into perfect focus: Momma with a proud, radiant smile. The others became a blur. Even when Rose turned in the circle and could no longer see Momma, her proud, encouraging smile was in her mind’s eye.
The warm-up ride was completed; they sped up to a canter. The noise from the crowd fell away. Rose heard nothing but Star’s hoofbeats, saw nothing but the fences ahead, thought of nothing but the first jump. This was where she needed to establish rhythm and attitude for the entire course. She was ready for the take-off point eight strides early and moved her body forward in half-seat. Star’s front feet struck the ground for the last time, his back rounded, and he pushed off with his hind legs. Star, glistening in the sunlight, flew over the first fence with the grace and power of a great athlete.
Then the other fences came, one after another, at breathtaking speed. Jump two, jump three—the high one—jump four. Rose’s concentration was total: remember to breathe, look ahead never down, maintain control, sit in the saddle between jumps…. Jump five—the angle, Star’s body curving around Rose’s leg. Six, seven, eight. Star cleared the fences as lightly and gracefully as a deer bounding through a meadow. Tight space between nine and ten, shorten his stride, a lighter seat, a sharper motion with her legs, hands set more firmly. Ten, eleven.
Finally, twelve—the last one. Ride it as though there were thirteen, Rose thought. Don’t let down with relief because it’s the last or speed up with excitement about being almost finished.
And then it was over. Star ran out in a canter for a few strides and Rose slowed him to a trot. She led him out of the showring and into a cooldown turn around the arena. It was only then that normal sounds and sights came back to her consciousness. Still a buzz, but the tone had changed. She looked up at the stands. Kat, Amanda, and Lizabeth were standing up and cheering, clapping their hands high over their heads. Uncle Ned was rushing down, climbing over benches. Rose heard other words from the spectators now, good words about her horsemanship mixed in with the disapproval.
She dismounted and ran her hand over Star. He was damp with sweat. If she had done well, Rose thought, it was only because she didn’t get in Midnight Star’s way. She’d never know if it was natural talent or if he’d been trained for jumps. He knew intuitively what to do. He could feel not only her physical clues and her slightest gesture, but she was sure he could feel her thinking, too. She had never been in such perfect harmony with anyone. She put her head against his neck. “We did everything we could, Star. I don’t know what happens next.” How could they possibly part now?
Uncle Ned and Aunt Norma, Momma and Poppa, Kat, Lizabeth, and Amanda crowded around her.
“Rose, I’m bowled over. I had no idea—he was brilliant,” Uncle Ned said. “You both were!”
“I didn’t know for sure myself,” Rose admitted. “I thought he was good, but it wasn’t until we were actually on the course…Uncle Ned, he’s special, isn’t he?” She hesitated to ask the next question: Can Star please stay at Clayton Stables? She was afraid of the answer. She was bracing herself to ask when she was interrupted by the announcements.
They all turned to listen. “Third place, John Stevens, riding Bluebonnet! Second place, Tom Young, riding Lucky Guess. First place, Rose Lorraine Forbes, riding Midnight Star!”
A blue ribbon! Everyone was excited for her, and, of course, she was, too. But what did a blue ribbon mean to Star? All a horse needs is kindness and patience and proper care, Rose thought. If Star had to be sold, maybe a blue ribbon would allow them to be picky about the buyer. Maybe he could go to a girl just like herself, who would love him as much as she did.
Momma and Poppa hugged her. “Imagine, first place!” Poppa said. “And as Rose Lorraine Forbes,” Momma added. She and Rose shared a proud smile.
Rose noticed a gentleman in a pearl gray suit and a dark beard near them. He was walking around Star and looking him over very carefully. It made Rose uncomfortable. He approached Uncle Ned, and Rose moved closer to them.
“I’m interested in buying your horse,” the gentleman said.
Rose’s heart clutched. She looked into his eyes. Was he a good man? She couldn’t tell.
Uncle Ned didn’t answer immediately. Was he also looking for signs of kindness in the stranger?
“He’s a fine jumper. He belongs on the circuit,” the gentleman continued. “I’ll give you a fair price. What do you want for him?”
What was “the circuit”? Would Star be used—and abused—for his ability, the way he had been when he was a racehorse? Rose was so afraid for him. She had meant to be mature about this, but she couldn’t, she couldn’t. She’d run away with Star, she’d mount and gallop away! Her hand clutched the saddle. Now!
“You’ll have to ask his owner,” Uncle Ned said, and gestured toward Rose. She looked at her uncle in confusion. With a smile, he handed the transfer of ownership form to her. Incredibly, her name was written in under NEW OWNER! She blinked and looked at it again. For a long moment, she couldn’t take in the meaning of it. Then tears ran from her eyes.
The gentleman turned to her. “Well?” he said impatiently.
Rose pulled herself together. “He’s not for sale, sir, not at any price.” The most wonderful words she had ever spoken!
With one look at her, the gentleman recognized there was no point in making an offer. He shrugged and walked away.
“Thank you, Uncle Ned! Thank you!”
“You both earned my respect….” Uncle Nedcleared his throat. “I’m thinking you and Star could give jumping demonstrations at Clayton Stables. Or help train beginning jumpers. Something new for my students.”
“I’d be glad to, Uncle Ned. Thank you!” Rose said. “This is easily the best day of my life!”
Kat, Amanda, and Lizabeth beamed as they realized what had happened. Rose hugged each one of them. “I couldn’t have done it without help from my friends!”
Rose tore herself away from their warm embraces. She had a horse to take care of. Her horse! “Star needs to be watered and wiped down,” she said. “I’ll meet you here later for the dressage events.”
She le
d Star past the busy concession stands and toward the water trough. Several people frowned at her divided skirt. One woman pointed and tsk-tsked. But a gentleman passing by said, “That was a fine ride, young lady.” And a young couple smiled at her. “Congratulations, you certainly deserved first place!” Rose walked with her head held high. Perhaps competence was winning out over costume.
I have no control over what people think, good or bad. I can only control my own behavior, Rose thought. And I have to be true to myself. Just like Momma!
“Good job, R. L.,” said a deep voice at her elbow.
Christopher Merchant!
“That was you, wasn’t it? At the Cranberry station yesterday?”
What could she do but nod? “How…how did you know?” Maybe he was disgusted by a girl whom he had seen in boys’ clothes!
He raised his eyebrows, and his eyes had an amused gleam as he pointed. “My shirt?”
“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry.” It was wrinkled and soiled by now. “I’ll have it washed and ironed. Your tie, too.”
“So you’re Rose Lorraine Forbes from Lighthouse Lane.” He had the nicest smile! “You know, I didn’t recognize my shirt at first. But I couldn’t miss those flashing gypsy eyes.”
Oh! That was exactly what Poppa said when he talked about falling in love with Momma!
He winked. “See you later, Rose Lorraine.”
Could any day be more perfect?
That evening, Rose and Midnight Star rode along Lighthouse Lane in the white glow of moonlight. Rose was going to meet Kat, Amanda, and Lizabeth in the lighthouse tower, where they would rehash and celebrate the events of this wonderful day.
The clear night sky was studded with stars, but even the north star didn’t shine as brilliantly as the lighthouse beacon.
I’m no longer the frightened, plain girl who moved to Cape Light just a little while ago, Rose thought. And Midnight Star is no longer the isolated, tense horse that was brought to Clayton Stables. “It’s a fresh, new start for both of us,” she whispered into Midnight Star’s inky mane. “Thank you, God, for helping us find the way.”
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