So we went into the ring with a renewed sense of purpose. I sat on his back, trying to remember everything about equitation that I’d ever learned and resisted the urge to try and place Hampton where I wanted. Instead I let him take the course slow and steady and it felt like it was a pretty perfect round. He even pricked his ears and seemed like he was enjoying himself.
Ethan rode pretty well too. In fact everyone did. Sure there were a few rails down here and there and some sloppy chips but for the most part, the competition was tight.
“Esther should have put us in the next one up,” I told Ethan as we waited to go again. “I bet there aren’t as many entries in the three foot classes.”
“Maybe that’s what she wants,” he shrugged. “It makes us look better if we beat more people.”
But even though our second rounds were great, neither of us came away with the blue ribbon. Instead we got a respectable second for Wendell and third for Hampton. The horse who won was gray, which meant the judge probably had a soft spot for grays or owned one or something. That was why I preferred the jumpers. It didn’t matter if your horse wasn’t the right color or built to perfection. At the end of the day it came down to speed and clear rounds with no politics involved.
“Sorry Esther,” I said as we walked the horses back to their stalls.
“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “You placed on a horse that you don’t normally ride and the competition was stiff today. You should be proud. Mickey would be proud.”
“Mickey would have won,” I said.
But I knew that Mickey’s nerves were as unpredictable as the weather and sometimes she could have a great day and other times she’d bomb. Still, I liked to think that today she would have placed first if she’d been on Hampton instead of me.
“She’s not mad at you.”
A voice wafted through the bars as I was in Hampton’s stall untacking him. I looked up and there was Liesl, all floating dress and vague smile.
“What?” I said.
“Your friend. The one who owns this horse. She wants you to know that she is not mad at you.”
And just like that, my heart dropped into my boots.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
“I can’t talk to you right now,” I said.
I knew that it was rude but I thought that she was being rude too. What kind of person comes up to someone at a horse show and starts telling lies about their best friend who is in a coma?
“Don’t you want to know where she is?” Liesl was still talking to me as I walked away.
“I know where she is,” I spun around angrily. “She’s in the hospital and you don’t know her so how dare you put words in her mouth?”
“You went to see her,” she carried on regardless of my protests. “You know very well that the real Mickey wasn’t there. Her soul, her spirit. It’s drifting right now.”
“Drifting where?” I asked.
Even though this woman was the last person that I wanted to talk to, she was right. I’d known all along that Mickey’s body was in the hospital but that what made Mickey who she was, just wasn’t there.
“Is she here now?” I looked around, half expecting to see a shimmering ghost in the shape of my best friend.
Liesl closed her eyes for a moment. “No,” she said. “But she watched you ride. She said you held back.”
“Because I didn’t want to muck everything up,” I said. “If this is real and you’re not just messing with me, tell her to get back in her body and stop fooling around. And if you are messing with me, then you can just quit it.”
I walked off and left her standing there. I couldn’t decide if I liked her or hated her. She claimed to have a connection to my best friend that I didn’t have but she could also just be a crack pot. I didn’t know what to think.
“Do you believe in ghosts and spirits and all that stuff?” I asked Becka as we sat in the sun and ate hamburgers.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “My mom said she saw the ghost of my gran one time but I don’t think she really did. She was just drunk. Why?”
“See that woman over there?” I pointed to the massage booth and Becka nodded. “Well she says that she can see my friend Mickey.”
“But Mickey’s not dead, is she?”
“No,” I said. “But she’s in a coma. What if her spirit has left her body and is just floating around?”
“Well if she is, you’d better tell her to buck up and get better. Even though you only came in third, Samantha still likes Hampton. I don’t know how much longer she has before she won’t have a horse to wake up to.”
“It’s impossible,” I sighed.
We watched as people lounged around in groups on the grass. Horse shows were the place to catch up with old friends and meet new ones. I could see Ethan and Faith chasing one another through the crowd. She’d probably stolen his phone again since their parents thought she was too young to have one of her own. The group from Becka’s barn had pulled their chairs out into the sun and Todd, their trainer, was handing out juice and healthy looking snacks.
“Do you like your trainer?” I asked her, wondering what it would be like to ride at a prestigious barn instead of a tumbledown one.
“He’s alright,” Becka shrugged. “He has a couple of young jumpers that he is bringing along and he knows everyone on the circuit so I guess that helps.”
“Esther has a jumper prospect that she never jumps,” I sighed. “I wish she’d get back into showing again too.”
When I started out it hadn’t seemed to matter that Esther didn’t show anymore. It meant that she spent all her attention on us. But as we got better and the shows got bigger, it seemed to be an advantage to have a trainer who was known on the circuit and who rode in the big classes. I’d learnt so much from Miguel Rodriguez in just a long weekend. I was starting to wonder if Esther had taught me all she could. But what then? I couldn’t afford the prestigious barns and they most certainly wouldn’t let me work off my board or my lessons.
“Hey,” Becka nudged me. “Look.”
She pointed to the massage booth where a woman was having her dark bay horse’s mind read. Liesl was standing in front of him with her hands on his face.
“We should totally go and check it out,” she grinned.
And despite my growing hostility towards Liesl, I went because I wanted to know if maybe she had some gift I was overlooking. Or if I was right and she was just a crazy person after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
There was a growing crowd gathering around Liesl and the horse but she didn’t seem to notice. She was only focused on one thing, the horse in front of her who looked like he was starting to fall asleep as she rubbed his head.
“Your saddle has been bothering him,” she said, looking at the owner. “He says that it’s been pinching his withers.”
The owner looked a little aghast but just nodded. Did that mean Liesl was right? It was probably just a lucky guess. Lots of saddles didn’t fit the horses they were placed on. I waited for her to say something that would prove she was actually talking to the horse.
She ran her hands over his back and down his legs, then placed her hands on the top of his rump. We all stood there waiting. I wondered how much the owner was paying for this communication session. I hoped it wasn’t too much. So far it didn’t seem as though she had got her money’s worth. Finally Liesl came back to the horse’s head.
“He likes you,” she said.
“Well that’s a good thing,” the owner laughed.
“But he doesn’t like your boyfriend. He says that when you are not looking, he pinches him on the neck and it hurts.”
The owner’s face turned red. “Brian would never,” she said but I didn’t think she sounded very convinced.
“The barn manager doesn’t give him enough hay to eat,” Liesl carried on. “She puts lots in the stall when you are there but when you are not, she only throws them one flake and he gets hungry at night.”
“Rea
lly?” the owner was starting to look worried.
“And he doesn’t like the dark. It scares him. At night in the barn there are scratching noises and he doesn’t like it. Sometimes he worries all night that the scratching noises will come and get him. That is why there are days when he doesn’t go as well for you. He gets tired.”
“Should I move him to another barn?” the owner asked.
“That is up to you,” Liesl said. “I’m just here to tell you what he is feeling. But he says that you are the best owner he has ever had and that he hopes he can stay with you forever.”
“Oh Barnaby,” the owner cried, looking all misty eyed. “I love you.” She threw her arms around the horse’s neck and Barnaby sighed softly.
“Is she for real?” Becka whispered, rolling her eyes.
I just shrugged. Barnaby looked pretty happy to have got all that off his chest and out in the open. He walked off with a spring in his step and a happy face. The owner looked happy too. I could tell that she did indeed feel like she got her money’s worth. But was it real or all an act? It wasn’t that hard to make up a few details of the horse’s life that he didn’t like and then tell the owner that despite all that he loved them dearly. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted to hear? It probably wouldn’t have gone down so well if Liesl had told her that Barnaby hated her guts.
“Who is next?” Liesl smiled at the crowd and about half the people standing there raised their hands.
“What about you?” she pointed at me. “And that spunky pony of yours.”
Everyone turned to look at me and I felt my face go red.
“No,” I shook my head. “He doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” she said slyly.
“Because I don’t want you talking to him. Okay?” I said before walking off.
I could feel the stares of everyone I left behind burning into my back.
“I wouldn’t mind her talking to Max,” Becka said, running after me. “Maybe she could tell us why he doesn’t like hugs and kisses.”
“She’d probably say that he is claustrophobic or something,” I said.
“That’s pretty good,” Becka looped her arm through mine. “I bet he probably is.”
“See,” I said. “It’s not that hard to make something up that sounds like it is true.”
“Good point,” she said. “I’m glad you are so practical.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon watching the hunter classes and eating ice cream. There were some good rounds and some nice horses, especially in the amateur owner classes.
“Why can’t Samantha buy one of those horses?” I asked.
She still hadn’t been over to our stalls to look at Hampton. In fact, every time I saw her, she was following around the boy with the iPad like a love sick puppy.
“Who is that anyway?” I asked Becka.
“Justin Walker,” she said. “His parents own some gross meat packing business but I guess it makes millions of dollars or something because he has a string of expensive horses, a private tutor and a wall full of blue ribbons.”
“How come he wasn’t at the jumping clinic then?” I asked.
“He was skiing in Switzerland,” she shrugged. “I think with royalty or rock stars or something.”
“So I guess he’s pretty much guaranteed a spot on the team then?”
“Probably,” she said.
“Well why can’t we convince Samantha that she needs a jumper? Look at her, she’s up his butt the whole time. You can totally tell that she loves him. If she wants to be with him on the team then Hampton is completely the wrong horse for her.”
“You’re right,” Becka said. “But she doesn’t like to go fast or jump high. How are we ever going to convince her?”
“Easy,” I said. “With Justin as bait. Is he riding in our class?”
“Yes,” she said. “He’ll probably kick our butts too. He has a new pony, Firecracker, that just came over from England where they have real pony jumping teams. I heard it actually won pony of the year or something.”
Firecracker sounded like the kind of pony that could beat us. I’d seen the videos on YouTube of those kids in England competing with their pony jumpers and they were amazing. Much more talented and go for broke than we were. Plus their courses were much harder and the jumps higher. I lay back on the warm grass and imagined what it would be like to go over and ride in England and while I was thinking about it, I tried to come up with a plan that would include Samantha abandoning her dream of owning a fancy hunter and buying a scrappy jumping pony instead.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Becka and I lay there trying to come up with a plan until Faith appeared, flustered and red faced.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said.
“Why? What’s wrong? Is it Bluebird?” I bolted upright, afraid that something horrible had happened to him while I’d been gone.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Esther said it’s time to warm up.”
“Already?” I asked, looking at my wrist and remembering I’d forgotten to put on my watch.
“I guess,” Faith said. “Oh and I’ve been keeping an eye on Bluebird for you because some weird lady in a skirt keeps poking her nose in the end of the barn and staring at him.
“Liesl,” I shook my head. “She just won’t take no for an answer. Doesn’t she realize that I already know everything about my pony that I need to know? I knew when he needed a new saddle and I knew that he didn’t like to go into stalls because of what Jess did to him. It’s not rocket science.”
I stood up and brushed the grass off my breeches.
“See you in the ring,” I grinned to Becka. “Better watch out. I need that prize money more than you do.”
“That still doesn’t mean I’m going to let you win,” she said.
“Where have you been?” Esther asked when I got back to the barn. She seemed kind of mad. Her face was all pinched.
“Having lunch,” I said. “And hanging out with Becka.”
“This isn’t a social gathering,” she scolded. “Go and get your pony ready.”
“Yes sir,” I saluted before going into Bluebird’s stall.
He was taking a nap in the corner in a single ray of sunshine.
“I don’t know why she’s so bent out of shape,” I whispered into his mane.
Usually I didn’t know anyone at the shows or I was afraid of running into Jess and her posse so I mostly just hung around with Esther and Mickey and helped clean stuff. But weren’t horse shows supposed to be fun too? She couldn’t be mad that I actually had made a friend, especially since my real best friend couldn’t be there.
Bluebird was dusty. It took ages to get him show ring ready and when I was finally done, I stepped back and looked at him, feeling proud. Only he seemed kind of tired.
“You’d better get your act together,” I told him. “There is a pony called Firecracker who is really going to give you a run for your money.”
Bluebird ignored me.
“He understands. He’s just conserving energy for the ring.”
I spun around and there was Liesl, standing outside the stall like a creepy stalker.
“I can’t do this right now,” I told her. “I have to concentrate. Go away.”
“Go away?” Liesl said. “What would your trainer say if she knew that you told me to go away?”
“She’d tell you to go away too,” I pulled the reins over Bluebird’s head. “She doesn’t believe that you can talk to horses and neither do I.
“Your pony believes it,” she said.
“Leave us alone,” I said. “Please.”
We went out to the warm up ring. Looney Liesl didn’t follow and as soon as I swung into the saddle, I felt everything melt away. Riding Bluebird was like a cure all for everything horrible that was happening. When I was on his back, the only thing I could think about was galloping over the course and soaring through the air. It
was even more addictive than chocolate or potato chips.
“Ready to work?” Esther said.
“Yes,” I side stepped Bluebird closer to her. “I’m sorry I went missing. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
After all I didn’t want to make Esther mad. Even though I didn’t feel like I’d learnt that much from her lately, without her I wouldn’t have been at the show at all and I was grateful for that.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Win your class. That will be good enough.”
But out of the corner of my eye I saw a flashy Welsh chestnut with a white face and huge stockings that came well above his knees. The boy in the saddle was tight and controlled, his leg firmly against the pony as it fought him for the canter. It had to be Justin and Firecracker and Becka was right, that looked exactly like the sort of pony who would win the pony of the year and definitely like the sort of pony to give us a run for our money.
Becka was in the other corner, exercising Max. He was a plain pony compared to Firecracker but Becka had said he would jump anything. I watched as she took him over a vertical. He cleared it easily. Max was all business where as Firecracker was all show. I hoped that my own pony was a healthy combination of the two. But show jumping was as much down to chance as anything else. Was your pony in a good mood? Was he ready to go flat out in the jump off and yet still be careful enough to leave all the jumps up? There was an element of luck that sometimes was just out of your control but as Bluebird picked up the canter and flew down the line and over the vertical, I had to admit that I was feeling pretty lucky today.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Ethan volunteered to hold Bluebird while we walked the course. It was a mash up of the fences that the hunters had used and some brightly colored poles and standards that had been dragged in from the sides. Someone had gone overboard with the flowers. They were everywhere. Good job Bluebird couldn’t really care less about them. There were also some interesting fence choices, as though the person who had put the course together didn’t really know what they were doing and just hand-picked jumps out of a book. It was the sort of course that Helga would make.
Sale Horse (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 5) Page 7