Back in the Saddle

by Catherine Hapka

  [NINA] Sounds good. Oops, my dad just got home—gtg. Let us know how the lesson goes!

  [HALEY] U know I will. Bye!

  She logged off and stared at the blank screen of her laptop. Normally she loved it when she ended up chatting live with one or more of the other Pony Posters. With their busy lives in three different time zones, that didn’t happen very often.

  But today she almost wished Nina hadn’t been online. Because her comments hadn’t been very helpful. In fact, Nina hadn’t seemed to take Haley’s problem very seriously at all!

  Then Haley shrugged and pushed herself to her feet. She could try to explain it to her Pony Post friends better later. Right now she wanted to go call the farrier before she got caught up in her homework and forgot.

  “Hold still, you wiggle monster,” Haley chided with a laugh. Even though his head was mostly immobilized by the crossties in the barn aisle, Wings had managed to swing his body away from her as she’d tried to sling his bright purple cooler over his back. “You need to wear this until you’re dry.”

  It was Saturday afternoon, and she and Wings had just finished a dressage schooling session. Afterward the pony had been pretty sweaty under his winter coat, so Haley had sponged him off and then scraped and rubbed him as dry as she could. But he was still damp, and there was a chilly wind that day, so she’d fetched the cooler to help him dry the rest of the way before she turned him out.

  Finally the pony held still long enough for her to get the cooler on and buckled. Then she unclipped him from the ties and led him to his stall, where she’d already dumped an armful of sweet-smelling hay.

  “Go on, have a snack while you dry,” she told him with a smile.

  The pony didn’t have to be told twice, diving into the hay pile with gusto. Noticing a pile of manure in the back corner of the stall, Haley hurried to fetch a fork.

  When she dumped the manure into the wheelbarrow parked in the alcove, she saw that it was almost full. With a groan she decided she might as well go dump it now while she was waiting for Wings to finish drying. Otherwise she’d just have to do it later.

  Bandit frisked after her as she pushed the wheelbarrow out of the barn and across the yard to the gate. “Stay back,” Haley told the dog as she reached for the latch. “I’m serious, Bandit. Is your memory that short?”

  She grimaced, trying not to flash back to the day last fall when Bandit had darted out through the gate and into the country highway beyond, where he’d been hit by a car. Haley still blamed herself for the accident—she hadn’t been paying attention and had left the gate ajar.

  But seriously, you’d think he wouldn’t be so excited to get out here anymore after what happened, she thought as she shoved the dog back with her foot.

  “Sit. Stay,” she told him sternly.

  Bandit stared at her. His lean hindquarters sank halfway to the ground, but as soon as Haley reached for the latch again, he leaped to his feet, trying to push past her to the gate.

  “Bandit, no!” she exclaimed in frustration. “Stay! Sit! Aargh!”

  She abandoned the wheelbarrow and hurried back into the barn, where she grabbed a handful of kibble out of the can in the feed room. Bandit shadowed her the whole time, drooling slightly when he spotted the kibble. One of the other dogs, a chubby beagle mix, spied the treats too and got up from his nap on a pile of saddle blankets. He yawned and waddled after Haley as she hurried back out of the barn.

  “Okay,” Haley said when they were in the barnyard again. “Bandit, it’s time to do some serious training. For real this time.”

  After the accident, Haley had spent some time working on the dog’s training, figuring that if he had a better grasp of basic commands, it would be easier to keep him safe. But his cast had gotten in the way at first, and later it had been too snowy and cold to spend any more time outside than necessary, and then she’d just plain forgotten about it.

  But now it was time to get back to that training. Past time, really. Especially since Bandit still seemed ready to race out into the road any chance he got. Haley wasn’t going to let that happen again on her watch. No way.

  “Let’s start with an easy one.” Haley held up a piece of kibble. “Bandit, sit!”

  Bandit barked excitedly, leaping up and trying to grab the kibble out of Haley’s hand. Meanwhile the beagle mix circled her, almost tripping Haley when she stepped back to avoid Bandit’s lunge.

  “No, no!” Haley cried. “Bandit, quit it! And, you—out of the way.”

  She pocketed the kibble, grabbed Bandit by the collar, and nudged the other dog away with her foot. Bandit wagged his tail and let his tongue loll out happily.

  “Sit, boy.” Keeping hold of his collar with one hand, Haley used the other to press down on the dog’s bony rump. “Sit!”

  Bandit blinked at her, then finally sat. Haley smiled.

  “Good boy!” she exclaimed, pulling out a piece of kibble and tossing it to him.

  The beagle mix whined, looking pathetic, so Haley tossed him a piece too. Then she returned her attention to Bandit.

  “Okay, now stay.” She held up her hand, palm out toward the dog. That was the way her uncle trained all the dogs on the farm when he had time, and Haley knew that Bandit had learned the basics when he’d first arrived. “Stay, Bandit!”

  At his name, Bandit leaped to his feet and barked. Then he trotted over and sat down on Haley’s foot.

  Apparently sensing that he might be missing more treats, the beagle mix raced over to Bandit. Bandit jumped to his feet again, bowed to the other dog, and then raced around in circles.

  “Bandit, no!” Haley cried, pounding her fist on her thigh in frustration. “Get back here, you idiot!”

  “Having problems, Haley?”

  Spinning around, Haley saw her cousin Danny standing by the backyard gate and grinning at her. Right behind him was Owen Lemke.

  Haley’s face went hot. What was Owen doing here? And why did he have to appear just when she was yelling at her dog and sounding like a crazy person?

  “How’s it going, Haley?” Owen stepped into the barnyard and stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “What’re you doing?”

  “Nothing,” Haley blurted out. “I mean, I was just—What are you doing here?” She glared at him.

  “Wow, testy much?” Danny said with a snort. “He’s here because we’re going for a ride.”

  “What?” Haley shifted her glare to her cousin.

  “Turkey season starts soon, remember?” Danny shrugged. “We’re going to ride out and scope out the best spots to put our blinds.”

  Haley blinked, belatedly recalling that Owen had gone hunting with Danny on their property a few times the previous year. The two boys were only a year apart in school and hung out sometimes, especially when they wanted to go fishing or hunting. “Oh,” she said. “Uh, okay.”

  “Glad we have your permission.” Owen grinned. “By the way, how was that sissy English show thingy of yours? You and the runt win a fancy blue ribbon, or what?”

  “No,” Haley said bluntly. “Speaking of horses, where’s Chance? I thought you said you’re going riding.”

  “Pop said he could ride Chico,” Danny replied, waving a hand toward the pasture where the family’s three quarter horses were grazing.

  “Good, he’s about Owen’s speed,” Haley snapped. “Nice and slow and boring.”

  “Ooookay.” Owen traded a look with Danny. “Whatever, Haley. See you later.”

  Bandit dashed after the boys as they headed into the barn. Haley took advantage of his departure to shove the wheelbarrow out through the gate, and dumped it with a little more force than absolutely necessary.

  Stupid boys, she thought. Why can’t they ever take anything seriously?

  By the time she returned, the boys had gone off to the pasture to fetch their horses. Haley hurried to Wings’s stall, and was relieved to find that he was finally dry beneath his cooler. She yanked it off and hung it on the stall door, then went to
turn him out.

  On her way to the pasture, the boys passed her, leading Chico and Jet, but they just nodded and continued their conversation. Haley and Wings continued to the pasture, where Rusty was standing forlornly at the gate calling for his herd mates. He stretched his head over the fence when Wings approached, seeming relieved.

  “Okay, go on in, boy.” Haley patted the pony on the rump as he stepped through the gate. “And rest up—we have that lesson tomorrow, remember?”

  That made her feel a little more cheerful. Jan was great at helping her students pinpoint problems and then solve them. She’d be able to help Haley and Wings regain their mojo, if anyone could. Jan would help make sure that next time Haley and Wings really would come home with that fancy blue ribbon.

  CHAPTER

  7

  SUNDAY WAS WARM and still, with a hint of the pleasant spring weather that would be arriving before long. Haley leaned forward in the passenger seat of her uncle’s truck as he pulled up to Jan’s modest clapboard barn, set in the midst of stubbly winter fields that would soon be sprouting with corn and hay and soybeans. Andrew was already grooming his horse in the outdoor wash rack between the barn and the outdoor ring.

  By the time Haley had unloaded Wings and led him over to the tie ring beside Turbo, Kyle and Augie had arrived too. Andrew had Turbo tacked up before the others, but he stood nearby and let the thoroughbred graze on the wispy bits of early spring grass while Haley and Kyle finished getting their horses ready.

  “So,” Kyle said. “I talked to my parents, and I’m going to do that event next weekend too.”

  “Cool.” Haley looked up from trying to brush a manure stain out of the white part of her pony’s coat. It was still too cold for a proper bath, so keeping him clean was a constant challenge. “Guess we’ll all be fighting for that blue ribbon again.”

  Andrew laughed, but Kyle shook his head. “Nope, I’ll leave that to you two. I’m going to drop back a level.”

  “Really?” That made Haley look up again. At unrecognized events it was common for there to be levels well below beginner novice, which was the lowest recognized level. She and Wings had done their first competition at something called mini-amoeba level, over a cross-country course that had been totally enclosed in a large fenced field, with obstacles ranging from small logs on the ground to railroad ties and simple flower boxes.

  Jan appeared at the end of the barn aisle just in time to hear Kyle’s comment. She was leading a tall, elegant dapple-gray gelding. The horse was fully tacked up in Jan’s jumping saddle, with a running martingale attached to his bridle. Haley had met Cancun the last time she’d come to Jan’s for a lesson. He was a talented jumper but had turned out to be a little too lively and bold for his previous career as a show hunter. His new owner wanted to event him, so Jan was teaching him the basics.

  “I got your text about dropping back a level, Kyle,” Jan said. “I think it’s a good idea. You guys did fine last time, but I think you’d both gain confidence from a good stadium round, and dropping down is probably the best way to do it.” She glanced at Wings. “Haley, you might want to consider trying elementary this time too. You and Wings could probably—”

  “No!” Haley blurted out. “I mean, I don’t think that’s necessary. We’ll be ready for BN this time.”

  Jan raised her eyebrows. “Okay,” she said with a shrug. “Thought that stop might’ve shaken you up a little—you were awfully quiet afterward.”

  “I was just trying to figure out what I’d done wrong so I could fix it.” Haley squared her shoulders, looking her trainer in the eye. “And I know we can do this.”

  Jan nodded. “Fine. Sounds like you’re confident, so no worries.”

  Kyle was watching Cancun as the big gray horse sniffed noses with Turbo. “Are you riding with us today?” he asked the trainer.

  “Thought I would, if nobody minds.” Jan tugged lightly on the reins to pull her horse away from the other gelding. “We probably won’t jump, but Cancun could use some more experience just being in the ring with other horses before we tackle the warm-up area next weekend.”

  “You mean you’re entering him in the event?” Kyle asked. “The one we’re all doing?”

  “Uh-huh. We’re going to give BN a whirl, see how he does.”

  Haley was still a little distracted by Jan’s suggestion, however mild, that she and Wings drop down a level. But now she tuned in again. “You’ll be competing against us?” she blurted out.

  Jan chuckled. “Looks that way. But don’t worry. Cancun and I won’t be chasing ribbons. This is his first event—we’re just going to give it a go, try to have a nice, calm dressage test and then see how he reacts to being out on a cross-country course in an unfamiliar place.” She patted the gray gelding. “I know he won’t have any trouble with the physical part—he’s jumped much bigger than BN height before—but the mental part? That’s an open question.”

  Haley nodded, though she knew that Jan wouldn’t enter the event if she wasn’t pretty confident that the horse was ready. Haley tried not to think about that as she grabbed her saddle.

  Suddenly Jan’s phone buzzed. Pulling it out of her pocket, she glanced at the screen. “I’ve got to take this,” she said. “See you all in the ring in five?”

  “We’ll be there,” Kyle told her.

  Haley watched the trainer hurry away with her phone pressed to her ear and Cancun trailing along behind her. “Wow,” Haley said. “It’s weird to think about competing against Jan, right?”

  “Yeah.” Andrew shrugged. “That sort of thing happens a lot in eventing, though.”

  “I guess.” Haley knew he was right. Upper-level riders often rode young or green horses at the lower levels as part of their training. At the bigger recognized events down toward Chicago, where Haley had spectated a few times, it wasn’t unusual to see former Olympians riding at training level—and not always winning either.

  “Makes me even happier that I’m dropping back,” Kyle joked. “So I guess you guys had better school extra hard this week, huh?”

  “Don’t worry. Already on it.” Haley set the saddle onto her pony’s back. “Wings and I have been working really hard all week, especially on dressage. I’m starting to see dressage letters whenever I close my eyes to go to sleep.”

  Andrew chuckled. “I’m not quite that bad. Turbo gets burned out on dressage pretty easily, so we’ve mostly been hacking out. It’s easier to work on stuff like bending and adjusting our stride if he doesn’t know it’s dressage, you know?” He winked and gave his horse a pat.

  “Wow.” Kyle shook his head and grinned. “Guess I’m just a slacker compared to you two. Augie and I took the week off from schooling, pretty much. Just went on the trails a couple of times, and did some barrel racing with my neighbor on Friday afternoon.” He shrugged. “Well, folding-chair racing, technically. We didn’t have any barrels.”

  Andrew laughed as he handed Kyle the bridle hanging near Augie’s head. “Sounds fun. Come on, let’s get out there.”

  Jan was already in the ring when they arrived. She was in the saddle, walking Cancun on a loose rein while talking on the phone. When she saw the students coming, she hung up and stuck the phone back into her pocket.

  “Let’s get them warmed up with some basic flatwork,” she called. “Loose rein, ride off your seats and legs, and let’s play follow the leader.”

  She led the way through their warm-up, starting off on the rail and then switching to circles and figure eights around the jumps set up in the ring. Wings felt lively and alert, pricking his ears at each jump as they passed it.

  “I know, buddy,” Haley whispered, giving him a quick rub on the withers as they followed Turbo around another turn. “I can’t wait to start jumping either.”

  When all the horses were loose and listening, Jan halted her horse in the center of the ring. She pointed to a line of two jumps—a vertical to a panel.

  “We’ll start here,” she said. “Treat it as a gymnast
ic—trot in, canter out. Haley, you’re up first.”

  Haley nodded, turning Wings away from the others to begin her approach to the line Jan had indicated. The jumps were small, maybe two foot three or so. Wings tried to break into a canter as soon as he realized they were heading for a jump, but Haley held him back.

  “Trot, boy,” she said firmly. “Trrrrot.”

  She could feel his energy building beneath her as he surged toward the vertical. He leaped over it and landed at a forward canter, kicking up his heels after the first stride.

  Haley laughed. “Focus, Wingsie!” she cried as the pony charged ahead, ears pricked. “There’s another jump coming.”

  The pony leaped over the second fence easily, and Haley had to circle him several times before he broke back to a choppy trot and then a walk.

  Jan was smiling as Haley and Wings returned to the group. “Well, he certainly seems enthusiastic today,” she quipped. “Andrew? You’re next.”

  Turbo completed the simple exercise easily, and then it was Kyle’s turn. He had no trouble keeping his horse at a trot; in fact, a few strides out Jan called, “Leg! Keep him moving forward!”

  Kyle glanced over at her, then kicked, but Augie barely responded. The buckskin gelding lurched over the first jump, barely lifting his feet, and the top rail clanked to the ground.

  “Keep going!” Jan called.

  Kyle nodded, kicking harder. Augie finally lumbered into a canter, and the next jump went much better.

  Jan had already dismounted and was leading Cancun over to reset the first fence. “Okay, let’s try that again, Kyle,” she said. “Start at a canter this time. I think we need to make sure Mr. Augie’s awake before we move on.”

  Andrew and Kyle chuckled, but Haley’s smile felt forced and she opened and closed her hands on the reins impatiently. It had been a while since she’d shared a stadium jumping lesson with Kyle—long enough to have almost forgotten what it was like. Augie was super-reliable over just about any kind of cross-country fence, since the horse knew they were solid and wouldn’t give way if he hit them. But he was smart enough to recognize that the jumps in the ring fell down much more easily, and he tended to get lazy about picking up his feet. That was why he had so much trouble in that phase.