by Suzanne Weyn
“I do look pretty bad,” she had to agree.
“What happened?” Claire echoed Jennifer’s question.
“My first jumping lesson.”
Jennifer’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Did you fall again?”
Taylor hesitated, not wanting her mother to worry, but also not happy about lying.
“You did, didn’t you?” Jennifer insisted, hurrying to Taylor’s side. “What hurts? Maybe we should go to the emergency room.”
“Nothing hurts,” Taylor said. This wasn’t one hundred percent true. Her butt really hurt! She didn’t think it was anything she needed to see a doctor about, though. It was just sore because she’d fallen — and then continued to ride — on it.
“Are you sure?” Jennifer asked. “Do you want some ice?”
“In a soda,” Taylor suggested. “But I don’t need to put ice on anything else. I’m starved. What’s for supper?”
“Go take a shower, and I’ll heat up some lasagna for you,” Jennifer offered.
“Couldn’t I just eat the lasagna and go to bed?” Taylor pleaded. “I’m so tired.”
“You’re tired?” Claire challenged. “We served twenty pounds of lasagna to a high school reunion while their band played retro heavy metal at top volume.”
“Claire helped me with a catering job again today,” Jennifer explained. “It was really difficult.”
“I’m just teasing,” Claire said. “Tired as I am, you look more exhausted, Taylor.”
“I guess we’re both tired,” Taylor allowed, pulling the tangled elastic from her hair as she plunked down at the kitchen table. “Ow!” she complained with a wince when her butt hit the chair.
“How’s Spots doing?” Claire asked.
“Doing well. Getting a little fatter every day,” Taylor reported. “Will the deer sanctuary take her yet?”
When the vet had come to look over the horses at Wildwood, she had determined that Spots was a baby doe.
“They want every spot gone,” Claire said. “They can’t take any babies.”
“Good,” Taylor said. “I don’t want her to go. Don’t you think she could live at Wildwood?”
“No. She’s a female whitetail. She needs to be around other deer.”
“Aren’t horses kind of the same thing as deer?” Taylor pressed.
“Not to a deer.”
“Couldn’t we just let her go back into the forest?”
Claire shook her head. “Spots will never be domesticated, but she’s not wild anymore, either. If we kept her at Wildwood, at some point she’d jump the fence and get out, but she wouldn’t have the skills to survive in the wild.”
The microwave beeped, and a minute later Jennifer put a plate of heated lasagna in front of Taylor.
“So, Mom, I jumped today,” Taylor announced as she dug in.
“Oh, I completely forgot to ask!” Jennifer said. “That’s great! Was it hard to do?” She turned toward Claire. “The idea of Taylor jumping scares me out of my wits, but just the same, it must be thrilling.”
“It was thrilling,” Taylor agreed. “That’s just the right word for it. It was like flying.”
“Was it hard?” Jennifer asked again.
“At first it was,” Taylor admitted. “But after I fe —” Taylor caught herself, but too late.
“I knew it!” Jennifer cried. “I knew you fell off!”
“But I’m fine,” Taylor insisted. “Stop fussing over me. I’m not a baby!”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes!”
“Okay … okay. Eat your lasagna.”
Taylor put another forkful into her mouth and chewed. “Anyway, I was saying,” she spoke again when she was done, “I finally made it over the crossbars and landed smoothly on the other side the way Mercedes wanted me to. She’s going to raise the bars a little tomorrow.”
“Does her mother know that she’s still spending her free time at Wildwood?” Claire asked.
“Not yet,” Taylor admitted.
“Any more talk about her mother suing the ranch?” Jennifer asked.
“I don’t know. Mrs. LeFleur hasn’t told me any more about it. I feel weird asking Mercedes again.”
“She really shouldn’t sneak behind her mother’s back,” Jennifer commented uneasily.
“It’s not like she’s doing anything wrong or bad,” Taylor said, reminding her mother of what she’d said in the first place.
“But it’s been going on a while now, and she’s lying to her mother,” Jennifer pointed out.
“It’s not really lying. I think she just doesn’t mention it,” Taylor replied.
“It comes to the same thing,” Claire put in.
“I suppose,” Taylor agreed, knowing deep down that Claire was right.
Taylor’s cell phone rang, and she saw it was Travis. “Hang on a minute,” she said to him after clicking the call through. She covered the phone and spoke to Jennifer. “Can I eat in my room?”
“No.”
“In front of the TV, then, if I use a TV table?” Taylor negotiated.
“Oh, all right. Make sure you bring your plate to the kitchen when you’re done,” Jennifer gave in.
Taylor brought her phone and her plate into the living room and settled onto the couch with a small, collapsible table in front of her. “I jumped today!” she told Travis.
“Awesome!” he shouted. “I never thought you’d be able to do it.”
Taylor wasn’t sure she liked that. “Why not?”
“It just seems really hard,” Travis explained.
“But if other people can do it, why would you think I couldn’t?”
“You like Western. English riding just isn’t you.”
“It could be me,” Taylor insisted. They’d had this argument before.
“Naw!”
“I would look good in an English riding outfit,” Taylor maintained, feeling insulted.
On the other end of the call, Travis went into a fit of raucous laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Taylor demanded.
“I’m picturing you in one of those English outfits looking all girly with your hair in a net. It’s too funny.”
“Why is it funny for me to be girl?” Taylor asked, annoyance in her voice. “I am a girl, after all.”
Travis guffawed at this. “You are not!”
Taylor’s jaw dropped indignantly. “I am so!”
“Not a girly girl, I mean.”
“Well, no,” Taylor admitted, pouting.
“Anyway, I can’t picture you in that outfit, is all.”
“Well, I can,” Taylor said.
Travis changed the subject by telling her about a new series of Marvel comics that would be coming out soon. Taylor wasn’t really listening, though. Her mind was still on the English riding outfit. She would probably need one if she was going to enter the competition.
Where would she ever get the money for that?
Taylor’s phone buzzed, and she saw that someone else was calling her.
It was Eric.
Annoyed as she was at Eric, Taylor still felt a skip of excitement at the sight of his name on her phone’s caller ID. “I have another call coming, Travis,” she said. “I’ll see you on the bus tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. See ya.”
The moment Travis clicked off, she took Eric’s call. “I talked to Plum,” he said right away, without even saying hi. “I convinced her to compete in a higher jumping class. It wasn’t easy, but she finally agreed.”
“Thanks,” Taylor replied. Had he done this for her? It seemed that way. “Thanks a lot.”
“Yeah, well … I felt kinda bad today. The stuff I was saying kept coming out wrong. I’m sure you’ll be a great jumper.”
“I finally landed a really clean jump after you left,” Taylor told him.
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
There was an awkward silence that Eric finally broke. “Oka
y, so … I just wanted to tell you that … about Plum.”
“That was nice of you to do.”
“So, are we friends again?” he asked a bit nervously.
“Definitely,” Taylor answered. “Definitely friends.”
Over the next ten days, Taylor worked with Mercedes every afternoon. When Daphne had the time, she also came to the ranch to help. By the end of that time, Taylor was taking low jumps with ease.
Finally, November fifth arrived. Taylor had arrived at the stable at six-thirty in the morning to get Prince Albert ready to be trailered to Ross River Ranch along with Shafir.
Taylor knew that Daphne’s father had come earlier with a small trailer to bring Mandy over to Ross River so Daphne could compete in one of the advanced jumper events. By the time Taylor got to the ranch, Mandy was already out of her stable and gone. Taylor wished she had seen Daphne in her full riding attire. She was sure Daphne must have looked gorgeous, and she couldn’t wait to see her over at Ross River Ranch.
Standing by the large trailer that Mrs. LeFleur had borrowed from Ralph Westheimer, Taylor stroked Prince Albert’s neck as she crooned to him, “It’s just a short trip. You’ll be fine. Don’t let Shafir bother you or steal all your hay while you’re in there!”
As usual, Prince Albert responded to her voice, pitching his head up and neighing. He seemed to sense the excitement in the air.
Holding the side straps of his halter, Taylor walked forward up the ramp toward the open trailer door. Prince Albert came along easily. He had always been good with loading and unloading from trailers — someone had obviously trained him. Prince Albert’s ease was also in part natural; he was just a calm, gentle horse.
Taylor walked Prince Albert into the trailer. Attaching the cross ties to Prince Albert’s halter and making sure they were long enough so that he could reach the hay that was hanging from a net in front of them, Taylor gave her horse one last pat on the neck before walking out the side door.
The clatter of hooves on cement sounded from the main stable building, followed by a shout and the sound of a smack of flesh on flesh. Taylor hurried toward the sound, peering inside.
“You stupid horse!” Plum shouted at Shafir as she yanked sharply down on the shank chain that lay across the Arabian’s nose. Shafir snorted and pulled her head up even higher to get out of reach of Plum, backing up toward the rear of the stable. Again, Plum cranked down on the chain, attempting to force Shafir to submit.
Taylor winced, watching the struggle. “Don’t you think maybe you should go easy with the shank chain? Shafir has been getting really head shy lately,” Taylor pointed out cautiously. She forced herself to speak calmly, not wanting to make Shafir any more stressed than she clearly was already.
Plum glowered at Taylor. “Don’t you think you should mind your own business? I just tried to load her into the trailer, and she won’t cooperate,” Plum stated stiffly.
“Maybe it’s because you keep smacking her around instead of rewarding her when she does something good!” Taylor shot back in Shafir’s defense, this time forgetting to stay calm.
“Girls, girls! Enough!” Mrs. LeFleur scolded, coming out of the office. She was dressed in barn boots, jeans, and a new jacket. She’d applied an extra amount of makeup and smelled more flowery than usual. “Can we just get to this show and back without you two strangling each other?” Mrs. LeFleur requested. “Plum, give me Shafir. We don’t have time for this. We’re going to be late for registration.”
Plum scowled at Taylor and reluctantly handed over the lead line to Mrs. LeFleur. Mrs. LeFleur undid the chain across Shafir’s nose. Giving the horse a quick pat, she clipped the chain to the bottom of Shafir’s halter and began walking toward the trailer.
“Plum, go grab a bucket of grain,” Mrs. LeFleur instructed as she went. “Shafir will probably walk on after that if you go in first and hold it.”
While Plum stalked off to the feed room to get the bucket, Taylor hurried forward to catch up with Mrs. LeFleur. “Do you see the way she uses the shank chain on Shafir?” she said quietly. “It’s horrible! No wonder Shafir acts up!”
Mrs. LeFleur hushed Taylor. “I agree, but you know how Plum gets. Now let’s just load these horses on the trailer so we can go to the show.”
Taylor nodded and walked back to the office to gather her show clothing. Daphne had loaned her some old show attire that no longer fit. They were slightly used, but Taylor didn’t mind. Just to finally look like the sleek models in the equestrian magazines was enough, even if her tan breeches had a few stains on them.
As Taylor came out of the office, Plum was striding forward with the bucket of grain held in front of her. She clipped Taylor’s shoulder as she turned, not stopping to look back, nose in the air.
Taylor spun around to shout something at Plum but caught Mrs. LeFleur’s pleading look and held her words. As she hurried toward the trailer, she heard the sound of Shafir walking into it. Taylor chuckled to herself. Great thing about horses. They’ll do anything for food, she thought.
* * *
There was a loud honk from outside. Mrs. LeFleur was driving Ralph Westheimer’s rusty old blue pickup truck. Perched there in the truck’s cab, she looked even more petite than she already was.
The trailer was attached to the back of the truck, and Taylor could see the horses’ tails swish as they munched on their hay. She hurried to the truck, hopping in next to Plum. Plum scowled and moved her garment, boot, and helmet bags over so Taylor could fit. Taylor’s gaze lingered on the expensive-looking garment bag, which no doubt held Tailored Sportsman breeches and jackets.
Plum had been riding for a long time, but at least they wouldn’t be in the same class at the show today. She knew Plum would be a tough competitor in the ring, and she probably couldn’t beat her. Taylor thought again how she had Eric to thank for the fact that Plum wouldn’t be competing against her.
The sun was just rising as they wound their way through Pheasant Valley. “Horse shows require early mornings and long days,” Mrs. LeFleur remarked.
Taylor peered out the window, watching trees and houses go by on the winding back roads. Although Pheasant Valley often seemed dull to Taylor, she did appreciate the beauty of it. As they got closer to Ross River Ranch, she noticed a distinct change in the houses. They were larger and more grand, often with wrought-iron gates. She could see gleaming chandeliers inside of some of the houses and imagined what it would be like to go into one of them.
The skies began to change from the early morning pinks and oranges to the lighter azure blue of day. They approached a winding gravel road, with a huge sign that said ROSS RIVER RANCH in cursive writing.
Taylor had been to Ross River two times before, once with Daphne, who used to board Mandy there, and another time when she helped her mother cater a luncheon at Mrs. Ross’s private home, which was on the ranch grounds. Still, though she’d seen it before, Taylor couldn’t help but be impressed as they went down the road, past large green fields with white wood railings. Ross River Ranch looks like something out of a movie, Taylor thought as they pulled up and saw in front of them a large number of trailers and trucks, with people milling about.
The barn itself was white with a deep red trim, contrasting beautifully with the well-manicured green fields around it. There was a large ring to the left of the barn, where riders were warming up and practicing their jumps.
Mrs. LeFleur took the key from the ignition and turned to the girls. “Are you ready, ladies? Don’t be nervous, this is just a local show, nothing super fancy or rated. I bet you’ll both do great.”
Despite her speech, Mrs. LeFleur looked like she was the one who needed a pep talk. Her hands were tight on the steering wheel, and her shoulders were tense as she stared at the barn in front of them. It must be hard for her, Taylor thought, having not been here for so many years and facing the possibility of seeing Mrs. Ross again.
“What do I have to be nervous about?” Plum scoffed. “I always win these smal
l local competitions. No one very good competes, anyway. It’s more like practice for me.”
Taylor scowled. This was her first competition ever, and she thought it was plenty intimidating.
“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling so confident, Plum,” Mrs. LeFleur said, not looking at her. “Let’s unload these horses and go sign in.”
They got the horses out of the trailer and brought them down to the registration booth, which was located in between the barn and the ring. Mrs. LeFleur went ahead to register the girls and the horses for their various classes. Taylor looked over to the ring to see who was warming up and noticed Daphne flying gracefully over the jumps on top of Mandy. Daphne and Mandy were so elegant over jumps, Taylor couldn’t help but aspire to be like them one day.
After finishing the last jump, Daphne glanced over and noticed Taylor waving. She smiled and waved back, dismounting and walking over to them. “Hey, how’s it going?” she asked.
“So far so good,” Taylor replied with, hearing the nervous tremor in her own voice. “Is Mercedes here?”
“She should be around here somewhere,” Daphne said. “My dad picked her up this morning. I guess she’s your coach for today. She keeps looking around inside the barn for something, but I’m not sure what.”
“She’s so secretive sometimes,” Taylor commented.
“I know,” Daphne said with a shrug. “I have to go cool off and untack Mandy, but I’ll be around. Let me know if you need me.”
Daphne was competing in one of the highest levels of the show, the jumper class. Its courses always looked intimidating to Taylor. Daphne had explained that the jumper class was a timed event, where riders tried to complete a course as quickly and as precisely as they could. There were penalties if a horse knocked over a jump or refused to jump. The jumps were higher and more intertwined, making the course harder to memorize.
Taylor waved good-bye as Daphne walked away with Mandy, then she turned to Prince Albert, who was looking around at the new scenery and all the people. “All right, boy. Let’s go get you groomed up and show-ready!”