JUMP GIRL (The Go Girls Chronicles Book 2)

by Leigh Hutton

  ‘That would be brilliant, Mr. Prince! Thank you.’

  ‘Expect the sports reporter from the Calgary Chronicle to come have a chat to you after you’re done,’ he winked, ‘just ran into him at the bar.’

  ‘That’d be great!’ Ebony was grinning as she turned for the ring, but her face dropped like a popped balloon when Annika swept past, all scarves and scent, no doubt headed to bail Clayton up for something. She was a cougar on the prowl, after all. Ebony hoped he wouldn’t give in to her.

  Annika smiled tightly at Ebony. ‘Nice work,’ she said, without slowing her gait.

  ‘Thanks.’

  Ebony hoped Annika hadn’t heard Mr. Prince’s mention of a bonus. If she had, she could surely kiss any extra, future earnings goodbye.

  In the ring to accept their first-placed ribbon and red CHAMPION rug, and Johnny was typically enjoying being the centre of attention. Standing proud at the start of the line of riders, his head held high, his body perfectly still as the rug was draped over his glossy, fit curves of muscle and pats were placed on his shoulder, face and neck from the pretty, middle-aged woman and handsome man, both dressed in classy green blazers; representatives from the class’s sponsor company and from Spruce Meadows.

  Ebony smiled with pride, especially when she glanced down the line of riders and clocked the glare on Mantina’s face, slouched down in fourth. Abia had come within a quarter of a second of Ebony’s time and Samurai looked splendid lined up next to Johnny, with his white legs sparkling from recent attention by Abia and her groom and his proud, white face just as clean. Marcus sat solemn in third, Saudi Sahara poised and splendid.

  Out came the victory gallop song, blaring from the speakers all around. Johnny took it slowly, enjoying every moment in the spotlight. Ebony even had to dig her spurs into his sides just to get him into a canter. His eyes searched the crowd, registering every smiling face that cheered for him. Ebony found herself doing the same and, suddenly, one particular person shot into her mind. Mr. Green Eyes, the gorgeous guy himself.

  She studied each face in the crowd more intently, hoping to catch another glimpse of his perfect face. But they’d nearly galloped a full circle of the ring, and the song was coming to an end. The jump crew would no doubt be in the restaurant, grabbing food and drink before having to tear down the course and pack it away for the next show.

  Ebony was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment, then she mentally kicked her own butt. She’d just won her first class at Spruce Meadows with Johnny, against some major competition. The win would set tongues wagging and seriously bolster her chances of being named for the Nations’ Cup team for Florida — this is major!

  And here she was, searching for some guy. Something she hadn’t done in, well, forever, and something she seriously didn’t have time for. Besides, if she was interested in having a boyfriend, why wasn’t she returning the possible affections of Marcus Frank? Surely, he was more her type, rather than some gorgeous jock who probably had zero interest in horses … right?

  Ding the white bread popped from the toaster just as Annika swept in to the kitchen, her pale pink, silk nighty wrapped around her rail-thin frame.

  Ebony ignored her, grabbing her toast, the butter and peanut butter and smearing it on as quickly as she could. She folded both bits into sandwiches, and reached for her black Grand Prix jacket, which was slung over one of the stools. She was making for the door when she remembered where she was headed. Reluctantly, she pulled herself to a halt, rocking back onto her heels.

  ‘Annika?’ She didn’t make eye contact, instead, studying the crisp toast in her hand.

  ‘Look people in the eye when you speak to them, Ebony.’ She tossed the morning paper down on the countertop. It landed Sport side up.

  ‘Wow!’ Ebony said, taking in the full-page picture of her and Johnny, tearing across the finish line. ‘Cool!’ She especially liked the caption: ‘Hometown girl beats Alberta’s best’. All she could hope was that she hadn’t sounded silly in her interview. She tucked the paper under her arm.

  ‘Where you think you’re going with that?’ Annika said. ‘Get your own when you’re out.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Ebony chucked it back on to the island, remembering with a stab of pain the first time she’d made the paper, and Cecile had paraded around the house, calling her a superstar and later bringing home ten papers and cutting the story out to plaster the fridge like a Paper Mache egg. She shook the memory away, turning to leave, but remembered that her wallet was empty. She swallowed down her pride, and took a few steps towards Annika. ‘I was hoping to get some cash, please?’ Ebony said, meeting Annika’s glare for just long enough to be nearly singed by the evil woman’s retinas. ‘Please.’

  ‘Cash?’ Annika said it mockingly, with a touch of sarcasm, which was incredibly maddening. ‘What for?’

  ‘Johnny needs some new front boots and duct tape is the only thing holding his and Tootsie’s rugs together … they also need some other odds and ends, like Show Sheen, special supplements and vitamins, you know — stuff for them.’

  Ebony was also down to her last pair of jeans without the crotch worn out of them and was in dire need of some beige breeches for practicing in, too. The fingers were worn out of all of her gloves, come to think of it — bar her show pair, and she was on her last hair net.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t help with any of that,’ Annika said, whisking over to her flashy silver coffee machine. ‘Already forking out much more than I expected to that trainer of yours and with the feed bills and transport, show fees and accommodation for Florida all due, well, I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to pay for all of it as it is.’

  Ebony took a deep breath. She ripped a chunk off the piece of toast and began to chew.

  The $4,500 that had been in her bank account at the time of Cecile’s death was gone. She’d been doing her best to save the meagre allowance that Annika had been giving her, but it wasn’t coming close to paying the expenses. She’d managed to wrangle a Visa card out of one understanding bank manager, but it was already maxed at its $5,000 limit. Cecile had always made sure that she and the horses had enough. And once show season started, and the prize money started coming in, it always got easier. She was never breaking even, not by a long shot, but she was getting closer. She needed desperately to be selected for the Nations’ Cup team for one of the big Spruce events, have a crack at the million-dollar classes — now that would set her up, and care for her horses.

  But for the time being, she was stuck. Worse than broke.

  ‘Why don’t you ask Marcus for a job?’ Annika grabbed a coffee mug and held it under the machine, which was humming away and dispensing dark, liquid gold. Ebony’s taste buds called out.

  ‘I can’t work for Marcus,’ she snapped. ‘I’m already working twelve hours a day on my own horses and getting ready for the season. I know he wouldn’t hire me as a trainer and he already has grooms to muck stalls and feed up.’

  ‘Maybe if you tried to be a little sunnier, you know, mixed with the other girls, then he’d consider you trainer material?’

  ‘Forget it.’

  Ebony managed to find a cheap pair of jeans at Kmart, but her remaining $167.28 in her account was not stretching far enough at the Spruce Meadows Tack Shop. The cheery sales girl was more than helpful, even offering to ask her boss about store credit, but the last thing Ebony wanted was more debt.

  ‘Thanks anyway,’ she said, feeling a little surprised at the genuine appreciation in her voice (sales girls usually annoyed her to no end). She found a pair of cheap boots for Johnny and some ‘Sale’ breaches for herself, that were a size small and a pair of frightful mustard yellow gloves, off the discount rack. Mantina was going to have a field day when she caught sight of her.

  By the time Ebony was back in her car and headed for the barn, her tummy was rumbling and she would kill for a coffee. A sign taped next to the drive through window of her favourite Tim Horton’s caught her eye:

  Urgent
night staff required. Apply within.

  ‘Well, there ya go,’ Ebony said to herself, a slight smile making its way across her face. ‘I’ll be the first horse show girl in history to work a fast food joint. Show me the money!’

  The manager was a friendly, slight woman in her late forties, who hired Ebony on the spot, after reviewing her resume (which Ebony had on her iPad) that had solid references from the local McDonald’s and Dairy Queen, where Ebony had worked when she was in foster care and during her first few years with Cecile.

  ‘I make the meanest Big Mac you ever tasted!’ Ebony joked with her new boss. Then she wanted to punch herself in the face. She’d hoped she would never be back here, but here she was.

  ‘Wait!’ her manager, Cindy, cried out. ‘Don’t forget your new uniform!’

  Ebony grabbed it, said her thanks, and let her forehead smack the glass door on her way out.

  Ebony changed into her new breeches later that morning at the barn, hoping the size difference wouldn’t be too noticeable. Unfortunately, the waistband stung at her stomach and the fabric strained across her thighs. She pulled her polo shirt out, to hang over her newly created muffin top, and set off to get Monster ready for his first hack out in the wild.

  Poplar Ridge Farms had erupted with activity, all its riders and workers frantically preparing for the Winter Equestrian Festival, kicking off at the Orlando International Equestrian Complex in two weeks time. There was the added edge of team announcement, also, with only four riders getting the chance to compete for Canada at the first Nations’ Cup round of the year.

  She would only have a few chances to qualify for the team to go to the World Equestrian Games in France in late August, an iconic and potentially life changing event that only came around every four years. Making the team would open up the world she so desired, cementing her as among the very best in the country and turning her into a hot commodity for sponsors and the Olympic team selectors for the Rio Olympics, which were only two short years away. These were events that she needed to make, or she could kiss her horses and her life away. Her only option was making the team, as she doubted very much that the meagre hourly wage from her new job would equate to her and her horses making it to Normandy.

  Once out on the trail, and Ebony felt comfortable popping the snap on her breeches and letting her belly breathe. An overcast morning had turned into a glorious afternoon, not a cloud in the wide, blue sky and warm sun tickling at her bare arms. It was warm for late February, and the snow was starting to melt, leaving brown grass and patches of white spotted along the narrow forest trail. It was a ride Ebony had been looking forward to, ever since moving to Marcus’s barn. It was thrilling riding a horse in competition, but there was something extra special about riding out in the wild; the freedom of being on a horse’s back, of feeling their body moving beneath yours both horse and rider free to roam and explore and get lost in nature, and their own thoughts. A hack outdoors always energised her soul, and the horses, too, loved it just as much.

  The trail ran the top of the ridge, through the funnel of green Spruce and naked poplar trees, then, according to Winnie (who had hacked Johnny on it a few days previous) the trail dipped down into a glorious meadow, like a bowl, looking out at the mountains, before descending all the way down to the gravel road, where it was safe, due to little traffic, to continue for a few k’s until the horses were ready for the climb back up the hill to Marcus’s barn.

  Monster’s ears were forward, but darted often, to enquire into the sound of a bird or branch being broken out in the woods. He held his head high and pulled to go forward, each of his big hooves ploughing deep into the wet, mushy earth. She felt at peace out here, amongst the animals, trees and rolling foothills. And by the feel of Monster, he did also. It was settling for him, like the final step in his rehab program.

  Into the bowl, and the view of the mountains, huge, majestic, streaked grey and topped with white, took her breath away. She was close to home out here, Cecile’s old place was less than ten kilometres southwest and shared the same incredible view and sense of serenity and calm. She breathed it in like heaven.

  The meadow was wide and flanked by bushes she thought could be Saskatoon berries. In a few months, spring wildflowers would adorn the meadow with tiger lilies, blue bells and pink, Albertan wild roses. Baby deer, elk, moose and bear would shake with the effort of learning to walk on their wobbly new legs and soon be dashing after their mothers and rolling in the sweet summertime grass. She’d loved watching the baby animals at Cecile’s and had spent hours drawing long rows of ducklings on the pond and the spotted little fawns out in the paddocks and in the fields.

  When Ebony heard a growl, she literally jumped out of the tack, her eyes darting around, searching the tree-line for a black bear, grizzly, or even a mountain lion. A cougar had been killing yearlings just a few properties away, and Marcus had started bringing his in early, well before dusk, as a precaution. Suddenly, Ebony felt quite silly to be out here alone.

  But when it happened again, she laughed out loud. It was the rumble of Monster’s belly.

  The pair made it down to the gravel, and the sound of the rocks crunching beneath Monster’s shoes brought back so many memories, like riding the ponies at her first ever barn, with the caretaker’s daughter, who was an only child. She was a wicked, spoilt only child who used to burn Ebony’s hair while she was sleeping and call her ‘useless’ and tell her that nobody wanted her. This was where Ebony finally got her chance to be around horses, and although the girl’s parents — who were both riders and only took Ebony in as they were short on cash — were only loving towards their princess daughter, Ebony had found all the affection she needed from the farm’s ponies. The day Ebony told the girl to leave her alone, and later, beat her in the ring, was the day she stopped being teased and tormented. Ebony loved how justice could be served this way. She couldn’t wait to beat Mantina again.

  The sun was glorious on her shoulders, and on the back of her neck, as her hair was pulled up in her helmet.

  The sound of a vehicle approaching, fast, brought Monster to a standstill. He was dancing into the ditch when a black truck shot past, flicking up gravel and sending Monster into a rear. Ebony flung forward and grabbed a clump of mane up near his ears to stay on. She was fuming with rage — how could someone blow past like that, clearly with no regard for her or her horse’s safety?

  When the truck’s red taillights lit up, Ebony grinned; she might just get a chance to chew this joker out.

  She managed to keep Monster from bolting as the truck reversed, stopping in the middle of the road. The passenger window rolled down, and Ebony peered inside, heart racing, eyes glaring.

  ‘Travis — I told you to slow down!’

  Whoa. Her body went hot, her eyes dropped to Monster’s mane.

  He was unmistakable. Mr. Green Eyes sat in the passenger seat of the truck.

  ‘I’m super sorry, hey,’ he said, flicking his thumb at the driver, Travis, who was good looking, also, but not nearly in the same league; blonde, with a white scar across his cheek. Ebony was sure she heard a bit of an accent from the Green-eyed God. His words came a little slower, more drawn out. American, maybe?

  ‘This guy comes to visit a few times and figures he’s got the right to drive!’ Mr. Green Eyes said. ‘Dunno why I let him.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ Ebony said.

  ‘Hey,’ he tilted his gorgeous head to the side and rubbed his chin, ‘do I know you from somewhere?’

  Yep, he was definitely American. His accent wasn’t too different from her own, just a hint of drawl, enough to be noticeable. And incredibly hot.

  ‘Don’t fall for it!’ The driver leaned towards her. ‘He tries that on all the girls!’

  Mr. Green Eyes reached out with one tree-trunk arm and pinned Travis against his seat. He locked eyes with Ebony. ‘I don’t.’

  She believed him.

  ‘I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere …’ he smiled, and her stom
ach did backflips. She was suddenly very aware of her ill-fitting pants, and wrapped an arm around her waist to hide her stomach. Then her face was burning, and she knew she was blushing. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced since Lorcan O’Connor and his gentle, Irish charms.

  She looked away, raising a hand to hide her cheeks. ‘Your friend here sprayed us with gravel,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Let me make it up to you.’

  ‘Here he goes!’ But Travis shut up when the Green-eyed God punched him, hard, on the shoulder.

  ‘We’re hitting a party tonight in Black Diamond,’ he said.

  Ebony’s forehead creased with confusion, and her eyes widened with shock. Is he asking me out? Surely not … Last she was aware she was out for a ride on her wild Monster, and running into the Green-eyed God, the very same guy her mind had been wandering to ever since their encounter at her first show of the season, certainly wasn’t something she’d been counting on. But it was an incredible surprise, all the same.

  ‘High schoolers,’ she said, twitching her mouth up into a cheeky smile, ‘getting hammered at their parent’s house? Not really my scene.’

  ‘We’re not in high school,’ Travis said. ‘We graduated last June!’

  Green Eyes ignored him, grinning. ‘This meathead was dragging me along. Give me your number, I’ll call you about a ride—’

  Travis cracked up.

  Monster started prancing again, unsettled by the commotion.

  ‘A ride, at my unc — I mean, my farm. We’ve got a few quarter horses, to manage the cattle. I’ve seen how you go on a horse, maybe you could show me a thing or two?’

  ‘Sure,’ it had escaped her lips even before she’d even had time to consider her answer, ‘my name’s Ebony, by the way.’

  ‘Hey, Ebony.’ His eyes sparkled as he studied her face. ‘I’m Dallas. Dallas Cash.’

  Dallas called Ebony that night and after a long chat invited her to visit his property, which he explained was located near the town of Black Diamond, just twenty minutes from Millarville and forty-five from the city. She agreed on late Friday afternoon, as she’d be done with the horses and didn’t have to start work until the night shift.