He strutted his stuff in front of the mares, tail flagged and head high and when they came to the fence with interest, he pricked his ears and arched his neck.
“He must have been gelded late,” Dad said with a sigh. “This is all we need.”
“He’s only seven,” I said. “Maybe he’ll grow out of it?”
Faith didn’t care. She thought it was funny. She was out early Saturday morning to get to know her new pony. The only problem was that he wasn’t very interested in getting to know her. Still, she made a valiant effort, talking to him and brushing him and tacking him up with loving care. Macaroni’s boots didn’t fit him so I let her borrow a pair of Bluebird’s and we had to piece together a bridle for him too out of spare ones we had in the tack room.
“I guess he’s going to need all new stuff,” Faith said, sounding excited.
An all-expenses paid trip to the tack store? Who wouldn’t love that? I was already jealous.
“Want to come and help me pick out some stuff later?” she asked me eagerly.
“I’d better not,” I said. “Taylor isn’t exactly my biggest fan right now.”
“Why?” Faith said. “Is it because of Jordan?”
“Something like that,” I said.
I couldn’t exactly explain it because I didn’t really know the reason why. All I had was a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach that there was something really big going on and I had no idea what it was. In fact, I was pretty sure that I didn’t want to know.
“You ready for your lesson?” I asked Faith as she slammed her helmet on her head.
“I was ready the moment I saw Falcon,” Faith said. “And he’s ready too.”
Ready to toss you off again, I thought to myself but instead I just smiled and followed her out to the ring where my father was waiting with a lunge line, a crop and a worried look on his face.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Falcon was the naughtiest pony that I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing and I’d known some naughty ones in my day. He was full on evil pony. Faith was scared of him, I could tell, even though she tried not to show it.
He reared up, not enough to be dangerous but enough to unseat Faith and when he touched down on the ground, he’d scoot out from under her, leaving her sitting in the dirt while he performed a really fancy trot around the ring.
“Are you sure he wouldn’t make a good dressage pony?” I said.
“I think he’d make a good everything pony,” Dad replied as he caught him. “But we have to teach him that it's not okay to dump his rider off every five seconds. Get up there.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“I mean it, Emily,” Dad said, his voice stern. “Stop messing around and get in the saddle. We can’t have Faith tossed off every five seconds. One of these times she is going to hurt herself.”
“I know,” I said, backing away. “I’m sorry.”
I watched as Dad helped Faith to her feet. She rubbed her butt, which I knew had to hurt and he gave her a leg up. She wasn’t afraid to get thrown off again. She knew that was what it was going to take to make the pony respect her and I had to give her credit for that. She also had more guts than I did.
I sat in the shade with Patrick by my side, watching as Dad clipped the lunge line on. Faith protested but at least this way Falcon was less likely to do anything horrible and if he did, Dad could nip it in the bud before it became a full out temper tantrum.
I knew that if I had ridden the pony, he wouldn’t have been able to unseat me. He would have met his match and we would have battled it out until he gave in. That was what he needed. Instead, every time Faith fell off, he was learning that it was okay to get out of work that way. Only my father wouldn’t let him. After he niftily swept to the side and left Faith in the dirt again, Dad had her stand off to the side as he ran the pony through his paces on the lunge line, probably hoping to tire him out enough so that Faith could finish on a good note. But Falcon had unlimited energy and he thought it was all a game. I could tell. There wasn’t going to be any tiring him out. He’d been living in a field doing nothing for who knows how long and now he was ready to show the world that he was here and he was fabulous.
Faith stood there biting her lip. She’d just said goodbye to a pony that she could have ridden bareback, blindfolded. One that tried really hard not to dump her off and when she did fall off, it hadn’t been his fault. He had taken care of her. The only thing Falcon was interested in was making sure that everyone thought he was fabulous just the way he was. And he didn’t need anyone to ride him to prove that.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
I knew that I should have ridden the pony and helped Faith. I could have straightened him out in no time. All he needed was a rider who wasn’t afraid to push him through his silliness and make him do the work. I could do that. Only I couldn’t. I slipped away to the barn with Patrick at my side and busied myself cleaning stalls and doing all the other stuff that I usually hated. This was now my life. I was, at worst, a groom. At best maybe some sort of barn manager. I’d at least managed to organize our makeshift tack room into something a little more presentable with a desk in the corner where we could make notes and sort files and stuff.
I sat in the chair, looking at the wall where Dad had pinned up some of our ribbons and a few photos of the horses. There was one of Bluebird and I, a blue ribbon pinned to his bridle as he galloped around the ring, my hair had broken free from its net and was streaming out behind me. His tail doing the same with those pricked ears and happy face that said he’d won and he knew it.
He was out there now in the paddock, sulking. I think he thought I’d abandoned him. Maybe I had. After all, he’d never let me down and I knew he never would. He took care of me just like I took care of him.
But I thought I’d been taking care of Grace too and look at what had happened. Dad said I had to stop keep beating myself up over the fact. That bad things happened to good horses and good people and it was an accident. But deep down I was sure that it was an accident that could have been prevented. That I could have prevented if I hadn’t ridden that day. The show life and all its shiny brightness had dimmed in my eyes and I wasn’t sure how I’d ever be able to look at it the same way again.
Faith came back to the barn frustrated with her new pony. I knew she would be but it was what she wanted. She didn’t want any of the well trained ponies that my father had shown her. She wanted the naughty one. Well now she had the naughty one and she’d found out that they weren’t always the most fun to ride after all. She had a challenge on her hands, more so than Macaroni had ever been. She wasn’t going to be showing any time soon either.
“I know he’s doing it on purpose,” she said as she put Falcon in the cross ties. “He’s testing me.”
“I think he’s more than testing you,” I told her. “And part of that is just his personality and you can’t change that. You have to learn to live with him the way he is. You have to meet him halfway.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” she said as she pulled off her saddle.
The pony was sweating, his neck dark and flecks of foam on his sides. He was going to need a bath, which I was sure he would probably hate.
“You let him get away with the little things,” I told her. “So that you can fight him on the big ones. That way you’re not fighting him all the time. You have to give in sometimes too. It’s give and take. A compromise.”
“So what exactly am I supposed to let him win?” she said as Falcon head butted her.
“You’ll figure it out,” I said. “That’s half the fun.”
“Well it doesn’t feel like fun,” she said with a sigh as she put her tack away. “I miss Macaroni.”
“I know you do,” I told her. “But you did the right thing. He’s going to be so much happier away from all this heat and you’ll still get to see him. Sometimes horses have to go away for their own good.”
“Like Chantilly?” she said.
“Like Chantil
ly.” I nodded. “Except that is more for Phoenix’s own good than anything.”
The little stud colt was becoming unmanageable. I knew that was partly because I’d left all his training to Cat and she had no idea what she was doing. In some ways she’d been helpful. Taking him for walks so that he would get used to leaving the side of his nurse mare and he didn’t seem to mind. He was eating grain now and hay. He didn’t need the mare. I’d arranged for her to go back to the vet clinic where promises had been made that she wouldn’t be euthanized and dissected, the fate that had awaited her before. Instead she was going to be bred and the vet students would have the opportunity to study her pregnancy and birth and if she had trouble conceiving like her owners had said, then she would be artificially inseminated, another test for the vet students. The trailer was coming in the morning. Another horse leaving our farm.
“I think I’ll miss her,” Faith said. “She’s been a good mother.”
“And now she’ll get to have her own foal,” I said. “She deserves it and we need the room. Plus, Phoenix needs to learn to be on his own.”
“Except he’s not really on his own is he?” Faith said. “He has Bandit.”
She was right. The miniature and the foal were best buds forever. Taking his mare away probably wasn’t going to affect him in the slightest. He’s still be the little stinker that he’d become. Dad was already talking about gelding him. Cat wasn’t going to like that very much and neither was I but we couldn't exactly have a stallion running around the farm.
“Maybe tomorrow's ride will be better,” I told Faith.
“Maybe,” she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The next day Faith was back just as the trailer came to take Chantilly away. Cat was there, holding the foal, who wasn’t really a foal anymore and while he’d mostly shown that he was ready to be on his own, the moment the mare was loaded up and the ramp closed, he went ballistic. He spun around and reared and bucked, screaming his little head off. Chantilly let out one fleeting neigh as the trailer pulled down the drive and then she was gone.
“I can’t hold him,” Cat said as Phoenix pulled away from her. “What do I do?”
“Just let him be,” I said. “He’ll figure it out.”
Bandit was in the little field with him. He looked at the foal like he was crazy and tucked himself into a corner out of the way.
“Should we take Bandit out?” Cat said.
I shook my head. “He needs his friend more than ever now. We can’t take him away as well. Just leave him. There is nothing we can do for him. Only time can heal his broken heart.”
“Well what is going to heal my broken butt?” Faith said, rubbing the back of her breeches. “Now I get to go and have my butt kicked again by my wonderful new pony.”
“You know you love him,” I told her.
“I know,” she said with a smile. “I’d already be bored if he was push button.”
“I’ll go and let Dad know that you’re here,” I told her.
But Dad was sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal in his pajamas.
“Faith is here for her lesson,” I said.
“I know,” he replied.
“But you’re not dressed,” I cried.
“That is because you are teaching her today,” he said.
“What?” I said. “That is your job.”
“If you’re not going to ride then there are plenty of other things you need to do around here and teaching lessons is one of them.”
“I cleaned all the stalls and made sure Chantilly was groomed before the trailer came to pick her up,” I said sullenly. “Isn’t that enough?”
“No,” Dad said. “It’s not.”
I knew that he was punishing me. He was hoping that if he gave me enough menial boring tasks then I’d give in and ride again and teaching Faith and Falcon? That was going to be the most frustrating experience ever because all I’d want to do would be to get on his back and fix him and I wouldn’t be able to. Instead I was going to have to teach Faith to train her own pony and that was going to be one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. She needed a real trainer like Dad or Missy or Duncan. She didn’t need someone like me but I was being forced into doing something I didn’t want to do and apparently I didn’t have a choice because I couldn’t exactly force my father to get dressed. He was going to punish me and I was going to have to take it or give in and ride and I wasn’t ready to do that just yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
I watched Faith walk and then trot her new pony. She did okay. He did okay. It was when she asked him to canter that he got all silly.
“Shorten your reins,” I told her at least ten times. “Heels down. Look up.”
“I know all that stuff already,” she yelled at me.
“Then why aren’t you doing it?” I shouted back.
I hadn’t meant to lose my temper but Faith was pressing buttons I didn’t even know I had. Buttons that were raw and exposed. All I could imagine was the same thing happening to Falcon and her that had happened to Grace and me and that fear made me a bad teacher. I knew it. Faith knew it and I was sure Dad knew it, he just hadn’t thought about the impact of it. Instead he was probably hoping that I’d get all energized or something and decide to ride again. Fall into the trap of getting on the back of the pony and showing Faith how it was supposed to be done.
“Why don’t you just take him for a walk?” I finally said.
I was as sick of watching them go round in wobbly circles as they probably were of making them.
“A walk?” she spluttered. “But I need to learn to ride him properly. I need to start jumping him. I want to be able to take him to shows.”
I didn’t like to tell her that those shows might be a long way off. Falcon was unpredictable and that made him dangerous. Who knew what was going to set him off at a show when Faith couldn’t even ride him in a straight line at home.
“Can’t you just hop on and fix him for me? Please,” Faith pleaded.
“It’s not that simple,” I replied, already at the gate.
“Yes, it is,” she called after me.
But it wasn’t. Not really. One ride wasn’t going to fix the pony. He’d need training sessions every day. And me being able to ride Falcon wouldn’t mean that Faith would magically be able to either. She had to learn which buttons she needed to press and when to press them. Also how hard. I watched as he pinned his ears and kicked out against her spur.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” I told her. “Just walk him around the property. Get to know him. You can’t just shove him in the ring and expect him to go well for you right away. You know he’s not that kind of pony. You have to form a bond with him. Get him to like you. And take your spurs off. He doesn’t need them.”
“How am I supposed to get him to like me?” she said as she got off and ran up her stirrups.
“Did you bring any carrots?” I suggested.
But carrots didn’t exactly win the naughty pony over and I didn’t know what would. He was rebellious and independent in a way that Macaroni had never been and he was going to test Faith and butt heads with her every step of the way. I could see that now. I almost wished she’d just settled for one of the princess ponies. At least then she could have been riding merrily around the ring by now, popping over jumps and planning for her next show. Instead she was leading a wayward, wild pony around the farm and struggling to keep hold of him as she did so. I settled under a tree to watch her but she didn’t really need me. The worst Falcon could do was break free from her grasp and run back to the barn or over to the other horses. And I knew eventually they’d bond. It was just going to take time.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
The next day Duncan called. We were all being summoned to a schooling session at his farm. I told my father I couldn’t go. He told me I had to. He packed up my stuff and made me get Bluebird ready and I did so because there wasn’t really much choice but there was no way that I was riding him
so the whole exercise was going to be a waste of time and also embarrassing because I’d just get there and say that I wasn’t riding and that would be that. No one could force me into the saddle and then they’d all know that I was off the team for good. That I’d given up. Maybe Dad thought that was what would shock me back to reality. Would force me to ride again. Well he was wrong. It wasn’t going to work. I didn’t care about the team or the Junior Olympics or any of it. I just wanted to be left alone.
“Why doesn’t Faith take my place on the team?” I said as I watched him load up the trailer. “I’m sure she’d be great.”
“She can’t ride that pony,” he said.
“I know,” I replied. “So why aren’t you giving her lessons. She needs your help. I don’t.”
“I’m giving her a lesson tonight,” he said. “When she gets here after school. I just wish you’d hop up on the pony so that we could get some idea of what it is that I am supposed to be helping her with.”
“If you teach her then you’ll see,” I replied grumpily. “We never should have let her parents buy that pony. She’s going to get hurt,”
“She’s not going to get hurt,” Dad said. “I promise.”
“You can’t promise that,” I told him. “Accidents happen. Look at Grace.”
Then I stormed off to the house, stomped up the stairs and threw myself down on my bed with tears in my eyes. Deep down I knew that I was getting too old for temper tantrums. I wasn’t thirteen anymore but that didn’t mean that I still wasn’t trying to figure out my place in the world and whether or not my heart could weather the storms and heartache that loving horses would bring. But if I stayed away because of that then I knew that I’d miss out on the good times too. The shows and my friends and blue ribbons. Galloping around the ring and flying over the jumps at speed. The victory lap. All of it. The whole thing was a package deal. The sweets with the sours. You couldn’t just have one without the other. I pulled the covers over my head and thought about Grace.
Lead Change (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 29) Page 5