So maybe I could do that—push myself to achieve so much more than most people my age. But then I wouldn’t be here, trolling for hack rides with Hailey, or hanging out with her and Jane. I’d always be at another ring, at another lesson, riding another horse. I kind of liked being where I was supposed to be.
“All canter, all canter please.”
What I really liked about riding wasn’t certain wins or doing crazy big classes for my age, it was getting to know a pony and getting it to go its best. Which with Tyler wasn’t hard at all. Maybe I was just weird that way.
The announcer called for us to walk and line up. I lined up next to Hailey again. It was funny seeing her on a pony other than Donald. She was staring straight ahead and I could tell the idea of getting a good hack ribbon, even if it was on someone else’s pony, was a lot of fun.
I listened for my number but I was still surprised when I heard it called first. I had won? I patted Summer Solstice and stepped forward. I had won. On a pony I’d never ridden before. On a pony that didn’t always win the hacks. Abby was riding Elemental for a reason—because that was the pony Trish thought she’d win with. Had Abby made a mistake on Elemental like break or pick up the wrong lead?
As I took the blue ribbon, the results continued. Abby was second with Elemental. If she had made a big mistake, she wouldn’t have been in the ribbons. Hailey was fourth.
Outside the in gate I slid off Summer Solstice. Abby’s groom took the reins and I handed him the ribbon.
When I turned around, Trish was there. “Really good ride. That’s the first hack she’s ever won. You got her going really soft.”
“Thank you,” I said, beaming.
It felt like the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. I was more proud of that blue ribbon than any I had won with Tyler.
Chapter 24
* * *
The next day, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and it was suddenly hot. I was sweaty before I pulled on my show coat.
Hailey had a swap before the single oxer in the first round. Her second round was outstanding. The best, most consistent round she’d had in a while.
My first trip on Sammy was good. I was really long to a jump in the second class. On Tyler, I had a good trip in the first round. The second course started toward the in gate over a single brush, then across the diagonal to an oxer. Susie told me not to start out with too much pace, to keep it quiet to the first two jumps. Tyler had such a big stride that I didn’t need much pace to get down the first line. I found the perfect quiet spot to the single and another nice distance to the oxer. I pressed Tyler forward a little more than I needed to, going to the first line coming home. After the long distance in I needed to steady Tyler right away to fit in the seven strides evenly. But I waited three strides, making it look like I forgot where I was, and then steadied him. I fit in the seven strides, but the last distance was very tight.
I rode the last two lines better and came out of the ring saying, “That line got tight. I guess I keep forgetting how big his stride is.”
Susie squinted at me. “When you jump in long like that in a line coming toward the in gate you know you have to steady him right away.” She shook her head and walked away from me.
I slid off and Martha came to get Tyler ready for the jog. She gave me a puzzled look.
“I made one little mistake,” I said.
“One mistake?” She cocked her head.
“Yes, one mistake.” I expected Mom would be all over me about right now. I saw she’d gotten caught up talking to Olivia Martin’s mother.
Martha spritzed Tyler with fly spray. “Okay, you’re still getting used to his stride.”
“Exactly.”
Her lips were pursed tight as if she was trying hard not to say something else. Was she taking my side? Or was she being sarcastic and she didn’t believe that I wasn’t used to his stride? I couldn’t tell.
I left her with Tyler and went to talk to Hailey, hoping to escape before Mom got away from Mrs. Martin. Hailey was chewing on the tip of her leather glove on her pointer finger, watching Isabelle Rollins. Isabelle let her pony get too strung out to the last line and had a huge chip.
“Nearly everyone’s made a mistake in the second round,” Hailey said. “Olivia chocolate-chipped, Jane had a rough change, and you were tight coming out of the line with Tyler.”
I could tell Hailey was wary of saying the logical next part—how she really might win. I didn’t want to jinx her so I kept quiet, too. There were five more rounds till the jog. We watched in silence and I knew Hailey was praying just like I was for everyone to mess up. And they did. Even Dakota cross-cantered for a few strides.
We huddled around Elena, waiting for the jog. If Hailey won the second class, she might have a chance at the reserve championship and be qualified for Pony Finals.
The jog came over the walkie-talkie. I was on top in the first class with Tyler and fourth with Sammy. Lily Brennan was second. Hailey was third. Dakota was fifth. That meant the judge today liked Donald, too—he’d given him a fourth with a swap. I balled my fists up, waiting.
“Second class goes like this . . .”
When Hailey’s number was called first, I still looked at her to confirm that she had been called on top. Dakota was second and I was called third with Tyler.
Hailey did a little hop in place and said a quiet, “yes!” In the horse show world you weren’t supposed to celebrate your wins with high-fives, fist-pumps, or end-zone dances. Riders were supposed to keep their emotions in check—when we won or lost. Only grand prix riders ever held up a hand in the air triumphantly during a victory gallop or cursed another rider’s faster jump-off time. Hailey’s reserved little celebration seemed justified, though. She had waited long enough to have her number called first.
Hailey hurried to get Donald.
“Second class is conformation, girls,” Susie said as I took Tyler from Martha.
Hailey’s shoulders sank. Mine did, too. How could we both have forgotten that today was conformation? I did the mental calculations that I knew Hailey was doing, too. I was in third place so it was unlikely I would be moved up to first. Impossible? Unheard of? No. But unlikely. Dakota’s pony wasn’t a model winner. Still, Smitten had better conformation than Donald. Donald was the boy with the brilliant brain and the scrawny body. He had a long back, a plain head, and lots of jewelry, including a big splint on his right front.
We jogged the first class and I smiled as I accepted the blue. But all I was thinking about was Hailey and what would happen next.
Chapter 25
* * *
Hailey led the jog for the second class, her own knees bouncing up extra high. To me leading the jog was old hat, but to Hailey it was all new. I only hoped she would stay on top.
We lined our ponies up as the judge came into the ring to examine them. I peeked down the line to see Hailey working it with Donald, trying hard to get his ears up and his neck stretched out. Donald yawned, his ears cocked out to the side. He looked like he couldn’t be bothered to even try—like he already knew how this was going to turn out.
I would have been happy to let Tyler stand with his legs splayed, but he was a modeling robot and planted his feet perfectly squarely without me even having to try to position him. He pricked up his ears and looked through the bridle as if he was waiting for his close-up. No Victoria’s Secret model had as much presence as he did.
The judge started at the top of the line. I kept peeking down to where Hailey was trying desperately to get Donald to put his ears up. She was tapping her palm with the end of her crop and then, when that failed, taking a pinch of footing and rubbing it between her fingers. Still, Donald’s ears remained cocked to the side.
The judge walked around Donald, taking in his legs and, no doubt, his splint. She spent enough time on him that it was clear she would be open to moving him down. If she had just zoomed past him, it would probably mean she wasn’t going to move him.
She checked Smitt
en next, taking about the same amount of time she had with Donald. When she got to Tyler she stood to the side of him and I could tell she was admiring him. I didn’t try to get Tyler to look good, but he did it anyway. The judge circled around him, making quick notations on her clipboard, all the while wearing a satisfied half-smile like someone who had just had a delicious-looking dessert placed in front of them.
Please, I prayed, just move me up one spot. Not two. Please. It seemed to take forever until she made her way through the rest of the ponies. I didn’t dare glance at Hailey now. I didn’t want to see her waiting, chewing on her glove.
Finally, the judge walked back toward the top of the line. Damn it. She wasn’t going back to her booth and calling over the walkie-talkie that the results were good and to pin the class as it stood. I said one last prayer that she’d move me up to second, or, at worst, swap Hailey and Dakota. Hailey wouldn’t win and Dakota would, but it wouldn’t be my fault.
“Number 237—” The judge was pointing at me. I braced myself. “Move up a spot, please.”
One spot, over Dakota. Hailey still was winning.
I eagerly swapped places with Dakota. She huffed a breath out the side of her mouth and did the riding-equivalent of a stomp back to third place.
Now I allowed myself to look down the line at Hailey. We were first and second! Beating Dakota! It couldn’t get more perfect than this. Hailey would be reserve champion and would qualify for Pony Finals. She grinned at me, her shoulders raising in a small who-would-have-guessed shrug.
I noticed that the judge hadn’t left the ring. We’d already jogged. What was she waiting for? Why wasn’t she calling in the change and why wasn’t the announcer pinning the class? Was she considering another swap further down the line?
But she was standing in between Tyler and Donald, still looking at the ponies with her clipboard raised in front of her. A feeling of panic swept over me and Hailey’s face looked terrified, too, as she realized what was happening. The judge looked down at her clipboard and then at me. “Up one more.”
“One more?” I said, as if I hadn’t heard her right.
“You two are swapping. Move up to first.”
I stared at her a moment longer, trying to figure out if there was anything I could possibly do to change her mind.
She called over the radio. “237 moves up to first.”
Hailey led Donald back behind me. I tried to catch her eye and tell her how sorry I was. She made a point of not looking at me.
I sleepwalked out of the ring and then back into the ring to get the championship ribbon. Dakota was reserve champion. Being second, not first, had cost Hailey the reserve championship. Dakota had beaten her by two points. If the class had stood how it was called or I had been moved only to second place, Hailey would have been reserve. When I came back out of the ring, I looked for Hailey but she was gone.
Chapter 26
* * *
I started by googling things like “missing pony” or “lost pony” the night we got home from Montclair. I wanted to do anything to make myself forget about getting moved up over Hailey and causing her to miss winning the class and qualifying for Pony Finals. Mom was exhausted from the show and had gone to bed early.
By the time I’d gotten back to the tent at the show, Hailey had left. Martha said Hailey had to go with her mom to pick up her brother, but I knew she didn’t want to see me.
“It’s not your fault,” Martha had said to try to make me feel better. “You can’t control the results.” She looked at me meaningfully—like maybe she did think I was trying to control the results. “She’ll qualify.”
“But what if she doesn’t?” If Hailey didn’t qualify for the hunters, it would be unlikely her parents would want to pay for her to go all the way to Kentucky just for the Pony Medal. It would be awful to go to Pony Finals without Hailey, and she also wouldn’t be able to do the lip sync.
“Life isn’t fair, is it?” Martha reached up and adjusted her bandana, as if she were subtly making the point that she was talking about a lot more than ribbons: her burns, Mom’s cancer, the things in life you couldn’t control.
“Yeah, I guess.”
I sat on the couch with my laptop, hoping the distraction would work. Dad was in a chair reading on his iPad. I hadn’t gotten far with the brand research and this was the only next step I could think of. Spending time on Frankie also kept my mind off Mom’s treatment. We had entered the second phase—where the chemo drained Mom’s health and we prayed like hell it would work. Everything depended on what the next results showed. If the chemo shrank the tumors and they could be removed, everything would be as close to okay as possible. If not, we progressed to phase three. We’d never been to phase three before, so I didn’t quite know what it was about yet. All I knew was that it wasn’t a place you wanted to be.
I got some hits on “lost pony” but nothing in Maryland or any place that sounded remotely close to Vi’s. There was a missing miniature pony in Pennsylvania and a missing fjord in DC. I moved on to equine websites, checking the classifieds and bulletin boards. But it was also hard to know when Frankie might have gone missing, if he had gone missing. It could have been months ago, or years ago. Although it seemed more likely it would be sort of recently since he knew that trick of bowing. Would he remember it on cue like that if he learned it years ago? Perhaps. I’d heard stories of horses remembering people many years after they last saw them, so why not tricks they were taught?
There had to be someone at Vi’s who would remember Frankie, I decided. Vi was batty and she might not take the best care of her ponies, but she usually did feed and water them. People rode them.
At the barn on Tuesday I asked Tommy whether Vi had a trainer. He had on a yellow polo today. He was tan from being in the sun so much and I thought how Vi had called him dapper.
“Not really,” he said as we walked the ponies around the ring after our lesson. “There’s a local girl, Kelly, who helps her with them sometimes.”
“And there must be people who feed them and muck the stalls, right?”
“She goes through barn help pretty fast. Most people don’t stick around when they don’t get paid.”
It figured that Vi didn’t always pay people. The workers would be hard to track down, but Kelly might be someone we could talk to.
“You and Jane really want to find out about Frankie, huh?” Tommy said.
“Hailey, too,” I said, glancing across the ring to where she was walking Donald on a loose rein. I’d said hi to Hailey but not much else and I was worried she was still mad at me from the show. I hadn’t seen her yesterday since Tuesday was her voice lesson. I texted her a bunch and she’d barely written back.
“Does Kelly have a last name? Or a phone number?”
Tommy was changing the jumps around now. He and Susie usually set a new course each week. He lifted rails and wiggled standards, no longer looking at me. Maybe he hadn’t heard me, or was pretending he hadn’t heard me.
“Jane,” he called out. “I need you to get on Oscar. He was stopping with Grace and he needs a school before she rides him again.”
I walked to where Tommy was adjusting a small roll top. “Um, so do you know Kelly’s last name?”
“I need Jane’s attention on her ponies,” Tommy said, his back still to me. “And I know your mother feels the same way about you. Pony Finals will be here before you know it.”
“I know.” I stood there quietly for a few extra moments. If Tommy didn’t say anything soon, I’d have to give up.
“Kenney,” he finally said as he bent over the roll top. “Kelly Kenney.”
“Thank you,” I said.
The three of us walked the ponies out of the ring and over to the barn. The hay and shavings were being delivered from a big tractor-trailer that was parked to the side of the front door.
Donald and Tyler didn’t care—they were used to big trucks. But as we approached, Frankie’s head shot up. Jane took a hard feel of the rein
s. Frankie started to skitter and shy. He let out a shrill whinny.
“What the heck is wrong with this pony?” Jane said.
“He’s scared of the truck.”
“Thanks,” Jane said. “I hadn’t figured that out.”
Frankie sidestepped, tossing his head. Jane gave a frustrated I’ve-had-it sigh, hopped off, and started leading him, snorting, into the barn.
“Shouldn’t you try to get him used to it?” I called after her.
She said without looking back, “Dad told me to get on Oscar.”
Jane disappeared into the barn and I turned to Hailey, hoping to share a sympathetic look. But she was already sliding off Donald and pulling the reins over his head. Suddenly I felt like I was losing both my friends.
“Wait,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“You know . . . getting moved up.”
Hailey shrugged and started into the barn. Over her shoulder she said, “It’s not your fault you have the best pony in the country and win everything, no matter what.”
I stood there after she had gone, considering what she’d just said. While I understood how upset she was, I also felt like she had finally gone too far with her careless words. I certainly wasn’t going to run after her and keep apologizing.
When I led Tyler into the barn, Jane had Frankie in his stall. He was sticking his head out the door above the stall chain as she rushed to strip his saddle. Frankie gazed out at me with a still-anxious look. Why are you scared of trailers? I wondered. What happened to you?
Chapter 27
* * *
I found Kelly Kenney pretty easily through postings on The Chronicle Bulletin Board. I sent her a quick message explaining that I rode with Susie and Tommy and that we couldn’t find the pony Tommy had bought from Vi registered with the USEF, even though Vi had said it was one of Legend’s foals. I also explained about the brand and asked whether she remembered whether he’d been at Vi’s long. I dashed off the email before bed and checked my messages first thing the next morning, but she hadn’t replied. On the ride to the barn mid morning I was still checking my phone constantly.
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