“Maybe time to give one of the others a go?” Dad said after he’d given Faith some pointers and the pony still hadn’t co-operated.
“But I haven’t jumped him yet,” Faith said.
“If he won’t canter, you’re not jumping him,” Dad said firmly.
I was glad to see that trainer dad was finally putting his foot down because so far Faith had been running the show and that wasn’t exactly how these things were supposed to go.
Next up was one of the bays, a mare with a small white spot on her face. Her name was Daisy and she was the total opposite of the fiery black pony. She was timid and shy and she spooked at everything, scooting out from under Faith and dumping her in the ring. Faith was okay. She got back up, dusting off her butt and getting back in the saddle before anyone could stop her.
Daisy actually had a nice canter and Dad let Faith take her over a couple of small jumps but the mare was afraid. She needed a lot of encouragement to go over a cross rail. She didn’t have the heart of a champion and it wouldn’t be fair to force her into being something she wasn’t. Winners had to have that drive. It was what made them special and different. Daisy didn’t have that but she’d make someone a cute pony one day if she just had a little more exposure.
The second bay was a gelding with one white sock. He was fine. He did his job. He walked, trotted, cantered and went over the cross rail but then he came up lame.
“Probably a stone bruise,” Miss. Emma said, hustling him back to the paddock before we could say anything.
“That’s it then,” Dad told Faith. “I’ve got some more ponies lined up over the weekend. We won’t stop looking.”
“I want to try the chestnut,” she said stubbornly. “It’s not fair. He’s the only one I didn’t get to try and I want to.”
“That one is too wild,” Miss. Emma told her in the sort of patronizing voice she’d used before. I knew that saying that would only make Faith want to try him more. “He’s dangerous.”
“I'm not leaving here until I get to try him,” Faith said.
The she sat down on the ground and crossed her arms. Maybe she wasn’t as adult as I’d given her credit for after all.
“Perhaps you’d like to try the pony out first?” Dad asked me.
I shook my head. If the pony was dangerous, what made him think that I’d want anything to do with him. He stood there now, eyeing us like we were flies that he was going to stomp on. He was different than the others. He had that spark. The only problem was that I wasn’t sure if his spark meant that he had talent or meant that he wanted to hurt us very badly.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
His name was Falcon and up close and personal he was actually a very striking pony. He had a white blaze and two hind stockings that came up just above his hocks. And he was tall, big enough for Faith to ride for a few more years but not so big that he would overpower her.
“What breed is he?” I asked curiously.
“Thoroughbred and Paint,” Miss. Emma said, putting the pony in the cross ties. “We think.”
“Wow,” I replied. “I bet he’s fast.”
“He’s fast all right,” she said. “So fast that all my kids are scared of him.”
“He bolts?” Dad said.
I knew that if the pony had a dangerous vice like bolting, there was no way that he would let Faith anywhere near him. A horse that you couldn’t stop no matter what you did was almost as good as a death sentence.
“No.” The old woman shook her head. “He just likes going fast.”
“I like going fast,” Faith said. “Especially in a jump off.”
I could already see the look on her face. The one that said she was going to try and talk everyone into letting her parents buy the wayward pony that the other kids were afraid of because she wasn't afraid of anything.
“Let’s just take it easy then,” Dad warned Faith. “I mean it.”
“I know,” she said.
Falcon walked out to the ring, jigging about like he was off to the races. He reminded me of Grace and that made me feel like I had a stone in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to be reminded that the mare was still at the vet hospital, strung up in a sling while her broken leg healed enough for her to put weight on it. Waiting for her to get better and not take a sudden turn for the worse. I didn’t want to be reminded of her at all. I wished that Faith would just forget about these ponies and let us take her to another farm where she could find a nice pony, one that wasn’t a princess pony but that was still a good fit for her. I knew there had to be a better pony out there for her and so did my father and I guess he could have stopped her from riding if he really wanted to but he didn’t. Maybe he was trying to prove that Faith had more guts than I did. Right now he’d be right.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Falcon was the hardest pony that Faith had ever had to ride. I could tell because of the look of concentration on her face. Also because he was kind of a little snot. He knew every dirty trick in the book and it was no wonder that the other kids had become scared of him. He seemed to know what his rider was expecting him to do and then he did something even worse. He’d hopped around the ring sideways, done a dirty spook and then a sort of half buck, half rear thing which had Dad a little worried. I knew because he was in the ring with Faith, right ready to snatch her off the pony if need be.
Trainer dad was disappointed in me. He’d wanted me to try the pony out but all I could see was Grace and the broken poles and I couldn't. Instead I watched Faith finally get a decent canter out of Falcon. Dad cheered, then looked at me like I was a failure. I looked away. He didn’t have to remind me. I already knew that I was one and his stares weren’t going to magically make me ride again.
The pony had a lot of bad habits but he had all the good moves too. Faith maneuvered him over a few small jumps and he tossed his head like he was completely bored. Then he tossed Faith off as well and while she was getting to her feet he just trotted up to the arena fence and hopped over it. He didn’t even run off. He just stood there looking all proud of himself while I walked up and grabbed his reins.
“You are a naughty pony,” I told him as I ran up the stirrups. “Dumping little girls off and jumping out of arenas? What is wrong with you?”
He nudged me with his head. I stroked his face, straightening out his long, flaxen forelock. I knew why Faith liked him. I liked him too. And the way that he’d tucked his knees up over the arena fence, well there was no question that he could jump. It was just all the other stuff that was going to be a pain in the butt to work through.
“I told you she wouldn’t want that one,” Miss. Emma said as she came to take the pony from me.
“Are you kidding?” I said. “She’ll want him even more now.”
“What is she, a masochist or something?” she asked me.
“Something like that,” I replied.
And of course I was right.
“That’s the one I want,” Faith declared loudly when she came over to the us.
She threw her arms around the pony’s neck and hugged him tight. Falcon’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever hugged him like that before. He was probably just used to getting yelled at.
“We really should look at the other ponies I have lined up first,” Dad said diplomatically, pulling the small girl off the pony. “One of those could be just as good or even better.”
“No,” Faith said firmly. “I want this one. Take a picture so that my parents can see him.”
Dad took a photograph of a beaming Faith sitting on the back of the confused pony. He couldn’t seem to understand why everyone was fussing over him even though he’d been naughty.
“We’ll let you know,” Dad said to Miss. Emma once we’d finally pulled Faith away from Falcon and put her safely in the truck.
“I’m not sure I should sell him,” she said. “I really don’t need a law suit right now.”
“I’m not sure I should let her
parents buy him either,” Dad admitted. “But Faith is a strong willed kid and my daughter is a good rider. I think between us we can put the pony back on the right track and make sure Faith doesn’t get hurt along the way.”
“I still don’t know why she wants him.” Miss. Emma shook her head.
But I did. I’d seen his scope. The arena fence was well over three feet and he’d cleared it with room to spare. He’d clear four feet easily. That wasn’t such a small feat for a pony. He was going to make Faith an awesome jumper if we could train the naughtiness out of him or teach her to go with it. Maybe one day he’d even give Bluebird a run for his money.
“What did you think?” Faith asked me when I got in the truck with Patrick.
“I think you’re going to have your hands full,” I told her. “But first you have to convince your parents.”
“Piece of cake,” she said. “They owe me.”
And I wasn’t sure for what but I was sure that Faith had them pretty much wrapped around her little finger.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Falcon was all Faith would talk about. It was as though the pony was made of solid gold and could do no wrong, no matter that he’d thrown her off and then jumped out of the ring but that was what had sold her on him. To be honest it was what had sold me as well. A pony that could just jump out of the ring at a trot was like Cora’s horse who had easily leapt out of his paddock as though the fence was a cross rail. Those horses had the heart and the willingness to jump anything and even at her young age, Faith knew that.
Dad, however, was not convinced. He dragged Faith to several other barns to ride ponies that were far better suited. I tagged along because he made me and I had nothing better to do. The ponies were all nice. Some of them were better than nice. There was even a really cute dappled gray that had won a lot on the pony jumper circuit. Bluebird and I had competed against him on several occasions and I wasn’t exactly sure but I thought that maybe once he’d even beaten us. I told Faith so but she wouldn’t be swayed.
“A pony that beat Bluebird would be a force to be reckoned with,” I told her as we untacked the pretty gray.
The girl who owned him was standing off to the side, talking on her cell phone. She had outgrown the dappled pony and already had a new horse in her barn. She didn’t seem particularly devastated that she was going to have to part with him.
“I don’t want a force to be reckoned with,” Faith said stubbornly. “I want Falcon.”
“But this pony didn’t dump you off,” I told her. “And he jumped just as high as Falcon did, in the ring without any theatrics.”
Faith ignored me. I couldn’t really fault her. I knew what it was like. Sometimes you just formed a connection with a horse. You couldn’t explain it but you just felt something that wasn’t there with other horses. It was like a little bit of magic. Something that, when you found it, you had to hold onto because you didn’t know when you’d find it again. I wasn’t even sure if she’d had that with Macaroni. She’d like him because he was scrappy and he looked funny with his mismatched body and his weird way of jumping and then she’d fallen in love with him. This was different. She’d already fallen in love with Falcon and she didn’t even own him yet and that was dangerous.
“We have to get that pony before someone else does,” I told Dad that night. “Or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“No one else is going to want that pony,” Dad said. “No one can even ride him. You heard what Emma said, the other kids are afraid of him.”
“The other kids maybe,” I said, as I stood at the sink washing the dishes.
Cat was supposed to be drying them but instead had fled up to her room. She’d been acting mysterious the last couple of days. I wondered if my father had said anything to her about the stolen items she seemed to be accumulating at an alarming rate.
“But what do you think will happen when someone who knows what they are doing stumbles on him like we did. When they see him jump out of the ring clearing an almost four-foot fence without any effort at all. I mean that is a pony that everyone is going to want.”
“You sound jealous,” Dad said. “Are you sure you don’t want to ride him?”
“Well he’s not as good as Bluebird, obviously,” I said.
But I wasn’t actually sure. Falcon was possibly just as good as Bluebird and one-day Faith would be as good as I was too. I didn’t need that sort of competition in my own barn. But then I remembered that I’d given up riding anyway and so it didn’t really matter.
“I don’t care,” I said, trying to sound uninterested. “Faith can even take my place on the team if she likes.”
“That’s another thing,” Dad said, picking up the dish cloth and starting to dry the plates. “I’ve had Duncan riding my butt about when you are going to start training again.”
“How does he know that I’m not training?” I said.
“Everyone knows,” Dad said.
I wasn’t sure how but rumors spread in the horse world and by now Duncan probably knew everything about my fall and Grace’s broken leg and the fact that I hadn’t been in the saddle since.
“I just need a little more time,” I said.
“Time is the last thing you need,” Dad said, sounding serious. “Every day that you don't ride, the monster grows bigger in your mind.”
“What monster?” I said.
“The ‘what if’ monster,” he replied. “The one that tells you riding is dangerous for both you and your horses and that you shouldn't do it ever again.”
“How did you know?” I whispered.
“You’re not the only one who's ever had a bad fall. I’ve had my fair share too and I’m telling you, the sooner you get back in the tack, the easier it's going to be. The longer you wait, the bigger that monster grows. You can't keep feeding it. You have to kill it, now.”
“I know,” I said.
That evening I stood in the barn after grooming Bluebird, the saddle pad on his back and the saddle in my arms. It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, like I could hardly lift it and the closer I got to putting it on Bluebird’s back, the more I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The sick feeling in my stomach was rising and my lungs were closing up. I wanted to put the saddle on but I also didn’t.
“Just tack him up,” I told myself. “You don’t even have to ride him. Just put the saddle on his back.”
But it was like there was a force field around my pony, preventing me from tacking him up and riding him. Preventing me from harming him. I put him back in his paddock and fled up to my room, tears in my eyes.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Falcon arrived on a Friday night, that way Faith would have the whole weekend to get to know him. I knew that she’d get her own way. She always did. No one had seemed to be able to stop the train wreck that was surely coming but Falcon had passed his vet check with flying colors. Even his x-rays were clean, which was usually the place where at least something showed up. It was like the pony was in pristine condition and had just been waiting for a little girl with guts like Faith to come along and love him.
His arrival was bittersweet though because just as he was being unloaded, the trailer came to take Macaroni away. I guess it couldn’t have worked out any better. There were tears and hugs and carrots shoved into his plain face as we said goodbye to the pony that had been a part of our lives for what had seemed like forever.
Macaroni didn’t seem to care that he was leaving or maybe he didn’t really know. Perhaps he thought he was going to another show. But he had to know that it was something different because Faith wouldn’t let go of him until we finally pulled her off his neck because the trailer guy kept looking at his watch and making grunting noises, mumbling about other pickups and delays.
“I’ll see you soon,” Faith sobbed as the guy put the ramp up and the dun pony disappeared from sight. “It will only be a couple of months and I’ll be able to come and visit you. I promise you’ll be happy.”
Then Macaron
i was gone and in his place we were left with a bigger, stronger, slightly crazier version of him. Falcon had come out of the trailer that brought him like a rocket, stood up on his hind legs, striking the air and then pranced about a bit for good measure. The other horses were all enchanted by his flashy arrival, galloping to the fence and snorting. Bluebird nickered and Falcon replied, a deeper, throatier neigh than my pony had given.
“Do you think they’ll be friends?” Faith asked as she hung on to the end of the lead rope for dear life, her new pony now her only pony.
“I don’t know about friends,” I said. “Falcon looks like he wants to be the boss of everybody so I don’t think we’ll try putting him out with the herd just yet. Let’s let him settle in first, okay?”
“Yes, okay,” Faith said as the pony stepped on his own bell boot and ripped it off. “I don’t want him to hurt himself.”
But as we took the flashy pony into the barn, I had a feeling that Falcon was going to be one of those ponies that was always getting into mischief and hurting himself, no matter what his x-rays said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
There are ponies who make good lesson mounts, letting kids crawl all over and under them and basically being saints. There are ponies who make good first ponies, taking those same slightly scared yet exhilarated kids over their first course of jumps or to their first show. There are show ponies, trained within an inch of their life to put no foot wrong, chosen for their perfect conformation and their ability to wow the judges and get that blue ribbon. Then there was Falcon, the pony who thought he was a horse and not just any horse, a stallion. He was so full and proud that I even looked between his legs just to make sure we hadn’t missed anything and accidentally bought home a pony stallion. But no, he just thought he was.
Lead Change (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 29) Page 4