I took Darcy outside and told Susie he was snarfing hoof. Susie was teaching the big eq kids. The jumps looked huge. She asked me to tie Darcy up outside the barn till Joe was gone. Darcy gave me a pathetic look. I told him it was for his own good. I would be such a good dog-mom. It was a crime I didn’t have a dog.
Jane had to go ride another pony. Hailey and I stayed with Joe. It was fun to watch him work, how effortlessly he pulled shoes, and clipped and trimmed the hooves. Frankie was getting two new shoes up front and Joe selected ones from the racks hanging in the back of the truck. He turned on the fire in the portable forge he brought with him and heated up the shoes till they glowed red. The whole time he talked to us, about our ponies and who was winning what these days. He did a lot of the other barns in the area and big barns in other states, too, so he knew all the people we showed against. He did Hugo’s horses and told us Hugo had fifteen ponies headed to Pony Finals.
He pressed the flaming hot shoe against Frankie’s hoof. “Equines . . .” Joe shook his head. “He’s scared of a baseball hat, but not a burning shoe.”
Joe was right—it was weird the things Frankie was scared of. Some things you’d think would freak him out he couldn’t have cared less about. Joe made adjustments to the shoe, shaping it by hammering it on his anvil. He stuck it in a bucket of cold water, which let off a hissing noise. All these sounds—the hissing and clanking—and Frankie didn’t flinch.
When he was done fitting and nailing the shoes back on Frankie’s front feet, he filed down the nails and rubbed black sealant over them. He clipped and filed Frankie’s back feet, which were bare.
He unhooked Frankie and snapped a lead rope on him. “He’s all yours.”
“Thanks,” I said.
He picked up his hat. “It’s always a pleasure.”
As we walked away, Joe put his hat back on and called out, “Don’t forget about the prom!”
Hailey laughed. “We won’t.”
Back at Frankie’s stall, I was all excited. “I still can’t believe how cool that was.”
I led Frankie in and after I came out Hailey slid the door shut. “All thanks to me and my pony club education.”
I had the idea of looking at Frankie’s body in the first place, but I didn’t bring that up. I was just glad Hailey was getting invested in finding out about Frankie, and that we were best friends again.
Frankie stuck his head over the door, like he didn’t want us to go away. I patted his neck. I felt all this love when I looked at him. Love I didn’t ever feel for Tyler. Tyler was like the guy who liked you and was supposed to be perfect for you, but for whatever reason you just didn’t ever feel anything when you were with him. Frankie was the secret guy you couldn’t stop thinking about. Complicated, dark maybe, but endlessly appealing.
“So if it was a year ago that he went through so much stress and he arrived at Vi’s six months ago then we know that the stress wasn’t from arriving at Vi’s.”
“Which you would think if you were a pony would stress you out—being dumped at Vi’s,” Hailey said.
“So it had to be something pretty serious that happened to him,” I said. “Not just a change in feed or the weather. Something bad happened to this pony.”
“Or someone bad did something to him,” Hailey said.
I nodded. Frankie buried his nose in my shoulder, like he knew we were talking about him. “Someone, a man, with a baseball hat.”
Chapter 29
* * *
Susie always told us how, when she was our age, Fairlee was the pony barn in the country, turning out national champions and Pony Finals winners year after year. They used to host the Pony Finals, too, back when it switched locations from year to year. Once Susie found all these old Chronicles in her mother’s attic and we had so much fun looking at the horse show results and pictures. Jumps and tack and riding clothes changed over the years, but a good jumper was still a good jumper. It was cool to see some of the professionals, who win a lot in the hunters and jumpers today, back when they were riding ponies. There were even a few pictures of Susie. She catch-rode to a lot of wins when she was a junior.
Fairlee was one of the last remaining shows where you rode on a huge outside course. I loved riding on the field at Fairlee, but some people didn’t go there anymore because they were worried about riding on grass. Susie wouldn’t let us miss it—ever. She said it was important to go to different shows and not get stuck in the same rut of going to one place that had shows all season.
The ponies arrived at the show on Friday and we hacked around the rings. After we were finished riding we hung out watching the classes that were still going on. Since Frankie did so well at the local show, Tommy decided Jane was going to show Frankie in the greens. It seemed like a lot to throw Frankie onto the outside course at Fairlee, but Tommy didn’t have the time to wait and bring him along more slowly. He needed to get him showing, and sold, as soon as possible. Every month that he put board and training into him sucked the profit out of the sale.
Fairlee was close enough that we could all stay in our homes. On Saturday morning Mom drove me over to the show. It was a gorgeous summer day. Fairlee was an old-fashioned hunt club and people were playing on the paddle tennis courts when we pulled up to the tents. Later, we’d hear splashing and chants of Marco Polo coming from the swimming pool.
The green ponies went first and I was ringside to watch Frankie. I sat on a folding chair under the tent between the two hunter rings watching Tommy give Jane last minute instructions. He had one hand around her back as she sat in the saddle and was pointing to the course with the other hand.
Since talking to Joe, I’d decided to post about Frankie on The Chronicle bulletin board. I’d looked for info about Frankie online, but I hadn’t posted anything. We had a pony with a blue eye and a brand. This wasn’t a bay with two white socks. People were going to remember this pony if they’d seen him. I asked anyone with information about him to write to me.
The outside course was beautiful. There had been hardly any rain so far this summer, which stunk for Hailey. But Weston Joyce was judging the ponies today and he had a soft spot for Donald, always giving him good ribbons when he went well. If the summer stayed this dry, in a few short weeks the grass would be burnt out and the ground hard. But today the grass was still thick and green. The birch rails and blue and yellow flowers, that were the hunt club colors and decorated the jumps, stood out against the grass. It all looked so bright and I wondered how Frankie would react, although he didn’t usually care about the colors of the jumps.
The pony on course came out and it was Jane’s turn. Tommy patted her leg and she rode Frankie into the ring. His trot was hurried and Jane let him ease into the canter. Jane rode as large an opening circle as possible since there wasn’t a dotted line. Frankie sighted in on the first jump. He was quick down the line, but not a runaway like he’d been when he’d first come to the farm. He got a little faster coming home toward the in gate. Jane reeled him back in and finished the course without any big mistakes. In her second trip, Frankie got quick again coming home and Jane pulled a little too hard on him, making him even more upset. It was like every day was opposite day for Frankie—if he sped up, the last thing you wanted to do was pull.
I stayed through the jog. The other greens hadn’t been that great and the pony divisions were weak at Fairlee in general. Autumn Ridge didn’t come to Fairlee anymore, choosing to go to a generic show with ten rings that offered endless weeks of competition and classes for anyone and everyone. Frankie ended up getting decent ribbons, a third and a fifth. Frankie hacked really well and was second. But when Jane came out she didn’t even pat him. It didn’t seem to matter if he went well for her; Jane didn’t like him on principle.
The courses were the same for the regular ponies. With Tyler I won the first class and was called in second in the conformation class, but moved up to first. Dakota had little mistakes in each round, and she was fifth and fourth. Hailey rode well and was t
hird and second, great ribbons for her. I got low ribbons with Sammy—for some reason he didn’t love the outside course.
After the jog we got back on for the hack. Anna hacked Sammy for me now that I had Tyler. I trotted into the ring and brought Tyler back down to the walk. Dakota came in right after me and made a big show of trotting her pony straight down the middle of the ring, trying to get the judge’s attention. If I had been Weston Joyce I would have thought it was too showy and knocked her down for it, but not every judge would feel that way.
Hailey was in front of me on Donald and she glanced back so we could quickly share a look about how awful Dakota was. The last few ponies came in the ring and the class was called to order. Soon we were asked to trot.
I was only a few lengths behind Dakota and when I came by the in gate, Kitty was leaning nearly into the ring. “Get seen,” she whisper-yelled at Dakota. “Get in front of the judge.”
Susie was standing nearby. She didn’t say anything to me as I passed her. I had a good pass at the canter in the first direction and I saw Weston write down something, which I guessed was my number.
We reversed direction and picked up a trot. I saw Dakota cut a corner and pass two other ponies, desperate to get another good look from Weston. Then I lost sight of her for a few moments as we finished up the trot and came back down to a walk. I was on the short side of the ring, which meant by the time we were asked to canter I would probably have a great pass down the long side of the ring, right in front of Weston. The announcer asked for the canter and I squeezed Tyler with my outside leg. Tyler had just started to canter when Dakota came up from behind and cut right in front of me. I had no choice but to quickly circle or else Tyler would have broken to the trot. Dakota was unbelievable. It didn’t matter if Kitty was yelling at her to get seen—you didn’t cut somebody off in a hack.
After circling, I rode down the long side at the canter, but I didn’t get the pass I wanted. Before I could get in front of Weston again, the announcer asked us to come back to the walk and line up. Dakota trotted right into the middle of the lineup. I walked Tyler down to the end. At this point I didn’t care if I didn’t win; I didn’t want to be next to Dakota.
Hailey lined up next to me. “Dakota totally cut me off at canter. I almost broke.”
“Me, too,” I said.
Hailey mouthed something about Dakota that I couldn’t quite make out, although judging from her face I could have probably guessed.
“And the results of the medium pony hunter under saddle,” the announcer began. “In first place . . . Smitten ridden by Dakota Pearce.”
Hailey and I watched Dakota walk forward. She patted her pony like she loved him so much. Really we knew all she loved was winning. She gave the biggest, fakest smile to the woman handing out the ribbons.
“In second place . . . Woodland’s Tried and True with Regan Sternlicht.”
I accepted the red ribbon and headed out the in gate. I didn’t really care about being second, but I didn’t want to be second to Dakota.
Dakota was still on her pony at the in gate and said, in a super-cheery voice, “Congratulations, Regan.”
“Thanks,” I barely managed. “I think you cut off Hailey.” I don’t know why I didn’t say ‘you cut me off.’ I guess it was easier to talk about someone else.
“Hailey? Like she had any chance of winning.”
The rest of the results had been announced and the ponies were streaming out of the ring behind us. Anna was third with Sammy and Jane was fourth with Coco. Thanks to Weston Joyce, who did seem to love Donald, Hailey was fifth. It was one of her only hack ribbons of the whole year. Elena waved her hands. “Clear the in gate, girls.”
I wish I could have thought of something smart or, at least, mean to say back to Dakota. I wasn’t good at thinking fast for comebacks. I walked Tyler over to where Martha and Hektor were standing. Hailey came over to join us. She slid off Donald and made a point of landing hard on the ground. “She is unbelievable.”
We spent the rest of the day watching classes, and fuming over Dakota. Who did she think she was? How dare she? Most importantly, how were we going to get even? I didn’t tell Hailey what Dakota had said about her. Hailey didn’t need to hear that. There wasn’t really any way we could get revenge on Dakota in the show ring, except to just ride our best and win. But Hailey vowed that she would practice even harder for the lip sync. She declared, “I’m going to beat that girl if it’s the last thing I do.”
Hailey calculated the points everyone had in our division. I had twenty-six; Dakota had thirteen; Hailey had eleven. She shook her head. “There’s no way I’m going to be reserve tomorrow with Weston judging the other ring, unless it rains and I already checked the forecast—zero percent chance of precipitation.”
“Don’t think like that. There’s the handy and you’re awesome at riding handy courses.”
Hailey shrugged. “I guess,” she said with an air of desperation. “I just want to qualify.”
Chapter 30
* * *
The next day, both Dakota and I put in really good rounds in the first class. Hailey had a good trip, too. Still, I knew there was no way she would beat either of us. The second class was the handy hunter. If there was ever a class where riding counts it was the handy. The course started over a vertical, then you could choose to turn inside an end jump to get to a four-stride line on the diagonal. There was a trot jump after that to a broken line, and then another optional inside turn to an oxer.
If you wanted a shot at a good ribbon, you’d need to do the inside turns. It was how well you’d do them—whether your pony would pivot effortlessly, or whether you’d nearly take your leg off on the standard of the jump you were turning inside of—that would separate the winner.
As we walked up to the ring, Hailey said she wanted to go before me. We stood at the in gate, going over the course. Hailey looked the most serious I’d ever seen her. The rider on course finished to scattered applause and exited the ring. As Hailey entered the ring her chin was set and determined. The only way for her to be reserve was to turn in the round of her life and win the class. Dakota had ridden conservatively, not opening up her stride and going for bolder distances. If Hailey could really lay it down, there was a chance she could win.
Susie called, “good luck” to Hailey. Under her breath I heard Susie say, “Come on, Hailey.”
Hailey rode amazing. I got so caught up in watching her go, I almost forgot I had to jump again. She found every distance and rode the lines just right. Even Donald seemed to try harder than ever, jumping as round and tight as he could, as if he knew what was on the line, too.
Susie whooped loudly and Hailey came out of the ring all smiles. She threw her arms around Donald.
“Perfect,” Susie said. “Go get him ready for the jog.” She turned to me. “You know your course?”
I recited it once more out loud just so we both could hear it and then walked into the ring. Tyler was also great at handy hunter classes. There wasn’t anything I’d found so far that he wasn’t good at. I saw a good distance to the first jump and easily slipped inside to the four-stride line. I could feel Tyler tuck his legs up and round his back, giving a great jump out of the line. I settled him back to the trot, hopped the trot jump, and neatly turned back on the broken line. I put my leg on him and squeezed him forward up the line. Other ponies might have had to run down the line to do the seven strides or end up doing eight, but Tyler ate up the distance between the jumps. I glided through the last inside turn, which after the flowing seven could have been challenging, but wasn’t for us.
As I headed to the last jump I kept thinking about Hailey and how she had calculated all the points and the scenarios of what would lead to what.
I was probably going to win the first class. Hailey’s only hope of being reserve champion was winning one of the classes. Should I circle or pull up? Pretend to drop my reins?
I turned down the diagonal. Instead of heading to the oxer, I he
aded to the single fence instead. I felt a surge of adrenaline. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. I thought I could hear Susie saying, “What is she doing?” but that was probably just in my head.
I jumped the single fence and I could feel every other rider in the class get a little bit excited. I’d gone off course! How was it possible to be so dumb?
Susie was waiting for me with a quizzical look on her face. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I just spaced, I guess.”
I slid off Tyler and walked with Martha over to where Hailey was standing with Donald. Martha pulled off Tyler’s saddle and said to me, “Silly girl. Tricks are for kids.”
She cocked her head at me and smiled in a kind of wise way. Did she know? How could she possibly know? Except that I wasn’t the type who went off course a lot. She didn’t seem upset or disappointed, though.
“I just blanked,” I told her. “I guess it was the handy—too many turns.”
Martha nodded. She didn’t say anything else. She started brushing Tyler’s back, getting off the saddle mark for the jog for the first class.
I looked at Hailey and shrugged. “I can’t believe I did that. One of my dumber moments.”
“Remember that time I jumped an oxer backwards?” she said. “At least you didn’t do that.”
I smiled. She was so happy—I was glad I’d done it. “You were really, really good. That was like your best round ever.”
Hailey nearly squealed. “I know. I’ve been watching and Dakota was pretty good. Emma was really tight to the oxer and no one else has been amazing. If you win the first class and then I win the second I could be reserve. As long as Dakota isn’t second in both, or wins.”
I saw Mom and Dad walking over from the spectator tent. Hailey and I were along the rail and I braced myself for whatever Mom would have to say. But before she could reach us, Martha took her aside. I kept glancing over my shoulder to try to figure out what Martha was saying to her. Whatever it was, it worked, because, when she and Dad reached us, Mom just said, “Really good ride, Hailey.” Still, what she didn’t say about my round said enough.
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