Summer Rider (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 31)
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Dad was silent for a moment, then he said, “Two horses were rescued today from deplorable conditions thanks to you. I don’t think I can punish you for that.”
“Really?” I said, as a wave of relief washed over me. “Thanks Dad,” I added. “And sorry.”
“You’ll always be dragging me into one drama or another, won’t you,” he said with a sigh.
“I try not to,” I replied with a grin but he was right.
My life was a soap opera and I didn’t know why but as long as it was filled with horses, I didn’t really care.
CHAPTER FIVE
We got back home with two exhausted horses and we weren’t much better. I let Bluebird out in his field and he immediately dropped and rolled. I’d bring him back in and wrap his legs later because he’d had a hard jumping day but for now I just wanted him to stretch and be a pony for a little bit.
Four came out of the trailer snorting and prancing about, obviously no worse for wear after his adventures even though he was skinny, had rain rot and his tail was falling out in clumps.
“You look disgusting,” I told him.
He shook his head and a bunch of dirt came flying out of his mane and into my hair.
“Thanks a lot,” I said. “Is that what I get for rescuing you?”
But I couldn’t have been happier to have Four back home again and I wasn’t sure I’d ever let another horse go out on lease again, except for Hashtag who was under the watchful eye of Miss. Fontain. I may not have got on that well with her and thought that she was rather too strict but at least she’d never let Shonda just take Hashtag away like Missy had let Dakota do.
I put my dirty gray horse in the wash rack and spent an hour scrubbing his coat with anti-fungal shampoo and putting conditioner in his mane and tail so that I could get the tangles out. In the end I had to take the scissors to some parts of it. Missy would have had a heart attack. She didn’t believe that scissors should go anywhere near a horse’s mane or tail and usually I’d agree but these were desperate times and the more I thought about it, the madder I was at her.
Dakota had been in mourning. Her father had died. She probably didn’t know what she was doing. Maybe her mother called her to come back home immediately. For all I knew, she’d left Missy in charge of making sure that Four found his way back to me and instead all she’d done was get rid of him.
The reasons to hate Missy kept piling up and I wasn’t a hateful person. I didn’t like having these feelings of hatred towards her but she was making it very difficult to find excuses for her behavior. She’d kicked us out of Fox Run, stolen my father’s job, kept my baby half-brother away from us and she’d taken back Socks. Not to mention what had happened to Four.
“Are you really scrubbing at dirt or are you trying to scrub away your anger?” Jordan said.
He’d come into the barn to find me rubbing furiously at the grass stains on Four’s legs.
“I think the poor horse might like some food before he keels over,” Jordan said. “How about you finish the cleaning job tomorrow. It’s not like he’s going to a show or anything, right?”
“Right,” I said, standing straight and rubbing the kink in my back.
I felt light headed, like I might faint. I couldn’t remember when I last ate but I was pretty sure it was some kind of greasy food at the show for lunch and that had been hours ago.
I rinsed Four off and then ran the sweat scraper over his coat, the metal blade running over his ribs. They were more visible now that all the dirt had been washed away, like it was camouflage and now there wasn’t any. He also had a couple of cuts on his rump from the whip that the boys had been using on him. As I dried his legs with a towel, I wondered if Esther was over at Sand Hill doing the same thing to Harlow, cleaning him up and agonizing over every cut and scrape. Blaming herself for leaving him like I blamed myself for not checking up on Four. It was a harsh lesson to learn but it turned out unless a horse was actually in your care, you could never trust that they were going to be taken care of. Was it any wonder that I wanted to keep them all?
CHAPTER SIX
I spent the next few days moping around the farm and trying to force Four back into the fabulous looking horse he was before but you couldn't rush things like weight gain when it came to horses. I was stuffing him with as much hay as he would eat and he was getting really good grain but it would take time. And of course every time my father caught me putting extra hay in Four’s stall, he’d make some comment like that there was perfectly good grass out in the fields now or that Four would just as easily gain weight if I stopped pestering him all the time and maybe bought him a supplement or two. But he didn’t stop me from feeding the horse what he needed. How could he? We were in the business of making horses better, not worse.
Bluebird got a few days off to rest after the show and be a pony again. I let him get dirty and didn’t freak out when he ripped a big chunk of his mane out on the fence. We weren’t going to Paris so what did it matter? I knew that I’d said I wasn’t bothered about not going but I guess that it turned out that I was after all. I’d wanted a chance to experience what horse shows were like in another part of the world. Everyone who went to Europe came back a better rider, even Jess. Although that seemed to have worn off now. I wondered if her twin sister Amber was still over there, locked away in some boarding school because she’d all but vanished off the face of the earth.
And the heat and humidity were in full swing. Endless hot and humid days lay before me, days when it would be too hot to ride unless you got up at the crack of dawn or waited until dusk where you risked getting washed out by a thunderstorm or having to battle a million and one mosquitos. I liked Florida but it wasn’t exactly the most horse friendly place in the world.
The only good thing about summer was that school was over. I’d finished all my online classes and was now one year ahead. I could have continued to take classes over the summer if I wanted to but my brain needed a rest. I was just closing out the final assignment on my laptop when an e-mail came through. At first I didn’t realize what it was about. I thought it had something to do with the Paris trip that we didn’t qualify for but as I read the words a second time I realized that wasn’t what it was about at all.
Last year I qualified for a trip to Europe. Not one where I’d get to take my pony but one where I’d get to go and ride with some of the best trainers in the world. The e-mail was confirming the dates and places. One week in France, one week in Germany and one week in England. All expenses paid for. Everything that was, except for the plane ticket. Riders would be required to purchase their own.
I desperately followed the link that they had provided, heart beating wildly in my chest. I didn’t qualify for the team trip but I’d still be able to go to Paris and ride in Europe and my summer wouldn’t be wasted after all. I’d come back this amazing rider with all this experience and I’d teach everything that I’d learned to Bluebird. But as the page loaded, my heart sank. I had to admit that I had no idea how much plane tickets cost, especially international ones. I’d figured maybe a couple of hundred bucks. I was wrong. Dead wrong. There was no way that we could afford to buy one for me and I would never put my father in the position of asking him and having him have to say no. I knew how much money we had, or didn’t have. There was just no way it was going to happen.
I closed the laptop and stared out the window, the afternoon thunderstorms were building on the horizon. The sky turning dark and the wind picking up. It blew around the trees in the pasture and the horses picked up their heads and listened for the thunder. I heard it too. Rumbling in the distance.
I sat there, hugging my knees and thought about how, if my mother hadn’t stolen all our money, we would have had enough for a plane ticket. How she was probably spending all my father's money on stupid stuff when it could have been used for something good. But then I realized that it wasn’t exactly fair of me to take my father’s money either, even though I knew he would have given it to me. And I
knew that if I asked him now, he’d say that he’d find a way to pay for it. He’d get another credit card and go more into debt or he’d finally sell Canterbury like he was always threatening to do and I didn’t want him to do any of that. I didn’t want to put any more pressure on him than he already had because it wouldn’t be fair. I wasn’t a little kid anymore. I was old enough to know that there were some things you just couldn’t afford to pay for and a plane ticket to Europe was one of them. Not this time anyway.
I opened the laptop back up just as the first fat drops of rain began to fall and I replied to the e-mail, thanking them for their offer but politely declining due to other commitments. I didn’t say that we didn’t have the money. I didn’t want to make my father look bad. I clicked send with a sigh and vowed to never tell my father a word about it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“What is all this about you not going to Europe?” Dad said the next morning.
I guess keeping it from him wasn’t going to be an option after all. I sat down at the kitchen table with a sigh.
“How did you find out?” I said.
“I got a text from Duncan,” he replied. “And I had to pretend that I knew what he was talking about. You have some explaining to do.”
“Remember when I won that schooling trip to Europe?” I said. “And how it was all expenses paid.”
He nodded. “Yes, so what is the problem then? Think your old man can’t hack it here without you for a few weeks? Don’t want to leave your pony behind? What Emily because I can’t imagine why you’d turn down an opportunity like this. It’s not Jordan, is it? Because if you are staying behind for a boy then I’ll kick him out of here faster than you can say hogwash.”
“Hogwash?” I said, trying not to laugh. “You’re trying to be all serious and then you go and say hogwash?”
“Just tell me why,” Dad said, sitting down next to me. “I’ve ridden in Europe. You know I was based there for years. It would be so good for you.”
“I know,” I said. “It would also cost a thousand dollars. When they said all expenses paid apparently that didn’t include the plane ticket so I wrote them back and thanked them for the opportunity but said that I wouldn’t be able to go due to prior commitments.”
Dad looked at me, his eyes so much like mine, blinking a couple of times.
“When did you become such a responsible adult?” he said softly.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do I get brownie points for that or something?”
“No but I can make you some actual brownies,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I replied. “I didn’t want to go to stinking Europe anyway.”
“Yes you did,” he said.
“Yes I did,” I agreed.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he said. “You’ll go to Europe eventually. Don’t you worry. I’ll find a way.”
“It’s okay Dad,” I said. “I’m totally cool with it. There is too much to do around here anyway. I have all these horses to ride and we have to get the farm up and running properly like a real business. I was thinking about teaching some lessons. Maybe we could do a summer camp for little kids. That would help with the cash flow.”
“You are too young to be thinking about cash flow problems,” Dad said.
“I’m going to be sixteen in October,” I said. “And I’d rather know all about money and how to manage it than not. I don’t want to be one of those people like Jess who have everything handed to them and never figure out how to take care of themselves. I want to be proud of who I am.”
“You should be,” Dad said. “Because I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Well, I’d better go. Chores to do.”
I slipped out of the house before my father could say anything else. He was already getting misty eyed. I didn’t need him saying that he’d sell a kidney or something just so that he could make my dreams come true and besides, as I stepped out into the bright sun and my horses nickered for their breakfast, I knew that I already was living the dream, sort of.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was odd but finding out that my summer was going to be vastly different than I’d expected it to be kind of turned out to be a blessing. We had so many horses on the farm now that needed attention and it felt good to finally be able to give it to them.
The vet came out early one morning to geld Phoenix. Jordan stayed out of sight as the stud colt had his reproducing capabilities taken away. It sounded cruel but just like neutering cats and dogs was better for them in the long run, so it was for horses as well. It was irresponsible to breed horses just because you wanted to and unless you were going to be committed to keeping them for life, you were just adding to the unwanted horse population that was already too big as it was.
Phoenix came from unknown breeding. His mother had been an Arabian but you could already tell he wasn’t a pureblood. He was stocky with a big chest and powerful legs. Secretly I hoped that maybe he’d been crossed with a Warmblood or a speedy Thoroughbred and that he’d be good at jumping one day but that day would be a long way in the future. He was only a year old and we wouldn’t even think about putting a saddle on him until he was at least three.
“All done,” Mary said, putting her stuff back in the truck. “Keep him quiet for the next day or two but he’ll be fine.”
“I’ll try,” I said. “But he can be quite the handful.”
“I don’t think he’ll be a handful today,” Mary said, wiping the sweat from her brow with a towel from the back of her truck.
It was already eighty-five degrees and the sun had only been up for an hour.
“Can I get you to check Four over,” I said. “We picked him up from this horrible place and he’s lost a lot of weight since he was in my care.”
“Of course,” she said.
“Wait,” I said, remembering we weren't exactly flush with cash right now. “How much?”
“I’ll look him over free of charge,” Mary said, shaking her head. “What do you think? That I’m one of those money grabbing vets? Do I look like I drive a Hummer and have an assistant to do all the dirty work for me?”
“No,” I said, feeling embarrassed that I’d questioned our decent vet’s ethics. But it was her job and her business and I didn’t want to take money away from her. “But are you sure?” I added.
“Lead on,” she said. “I said I’d look at him for free but time is money.”
Four was in the barn, stuffing his face with hay. He was clean but you could still make out every rib. Every time I looked at him, my heart hurt but mentally he was fine and seemed none the worse for wear.
“I’ll bet he picked up a nice worm load while he was at whatever questionable place you picked him up from,” Mary said, slipping into the stall. “I’ll test his poop and let you know.”
She picked up a couple of balls of manure and put them in a bag that she had pulled from her pocket. Then she listened to Four’s heart and lungs. She didn’t need to listen to his stomach. We could hear it grumbling and rumbling as he carried on eating.
“I don’t think there is anything wrong with him that good nutrition and a little love won’t fix,” she said. “Wasn’t he at Fox Run though? How did he end up like this?”
“He was at Fox Run,” I said. “But then he left.”
Deep down I was sure that it was Missy who had sent Four away but Mary was a vet who went to many barns and rumors travelled fast. I didn’t want to say anything that might make us look bad. Not until I was sure.
“He’s a nice horse,” Mary said, patting him on the neck. “I’m sure you’ll be riding him again soon.”
“Yes, I probably will,” I agreed.
Socks had gone and so had Hashtag but they’d been replaced by Sunny and Four. I still had horses that needed work and sure, two of them weren’t the best jumpers in the world but that didn’t exactly matter. All that mattered was that they liked their jobs, they were well taken
care of and at the end of the day they were healthy and happy.
“I’ll let you know about the poop,” Mary called out the window as she drove away.
“Thanks,” I replied with a laugh.
Only horse people could have serious conversations about poop and not think it at all strange.
CHAPTER NINE
Now that I was in full on working horse’s mode, I worked out a schedule on a big white board that Jordan brought home from a garage sale. I had time tables and each day was planned out for when the horses would work on the flat, when they would jump and when they would get a trail ride or something else fun. They also all got one day off a week but since it was a rotating schedule, I didn’t get any days off.
“When are you supposed to have fun?” Jordan asked.
He watched me write down helping Faith with Falcon on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which were the only days her mother had agreed to bring her out to the barn. They had enrolled her in some sort of math summer program, which she obviously hated because it was nothing to do with horses but I think they were priming her to be a lawyer or a doctor, just like Mickey’s parents were. At least I was grateful that my parents didn’t try to push me into a profession that I had no interest in. I would have died if they’d tried to make me something I wasn’t. I’d always known that my life would revolve around horses and no one was ever going to change that.
“This is fun,” I told Jordan. “I like riding, remember?”
“Yes,” he said, leaning against the wall and trying to look all cool. “But I was sort of hoping that maybe we could go to the movies some time.”