It was late. Chris was hungry and tired. He wanted to order room service or pick something up on the way back to the hotel and get to bed. He grabbed his bag. Jasper followed next to him as Chris headed out of the tent, running into Tommy Kinsler. Tommy was a few years older than Chris—they hadn’t overlapped much at all in the junior ranks, which was nice because it meant they never had that deep-seated kind of rivalry that some people who showed against each other as juniors did. By the time Chris was doing the big eq and Young Riders, Tommy was already winning grand prix classes. Tommy was from Florida originally. His home base was still there but he spent most of the summer months at shows on the East Coast.
“Hey, sorry to hear about you and MB, man,” Tommy said.
Chris was glad Tommy didn’t act like nothing had happened like some other people did.
“It’s fine, really. Sometimes I think it’s for the best.”
Tommy gave him a skeptical look. “You are so full of shit, Kern.”
“What? No, I’m not. We were together for so long and it’s kind of different being a rider in this sport if you already have all the money you need. That got between us sometimes, and it was probably only going to get worse.”
“I get you on that,” Tommy said.
Tommy and Chris had similar backgrounds. They’d never had family backing and endless funds to bankroll their mounts. They had to rely on talent, hard work, and some luck to get them good horses. Tommy had been an alternate for the last World Games; now his World Games’ horse was eighteen and only had so many shows left in him. Besides that horse, Tommy mostly had young ones.
“I try not to get all hateful of the people like MB and Laurie,” Tommy said, mentioning another twenty-something grand prix rider who relied on her parents’ wealth to fund her barn. “I mean there are so many of them in this sport right now. It seems like it used to be those wealthy kids rode as juniors and then kind of faded out but now it’s like super cool to be a grand prix rider for a profession. Maybe it would have gotten to be hard with MB… unless you married her and then her horses became your horses.” Tommy laughed but there were certainly riders who married into families for just that reason.
“I don’t think her father would have wanted me riding her horses anyway,” Chris said.
“Would he have had a choice?”
“He writes the checks. It’s not like she has access to whatever money she wants.” Chris wondered if he was saying too much. Tommy was a friend—but in this business sometimes you even had to be careful what you shared with friends.
“I gotcha,” Tommy said. “So it’s definitely good you’re out of that relationship.”
“I’m just going to concentrate on my riding. On Europe this summer,” Chris added, more to convince himself.
“She’s going, though, right?”
“Yes, but whatever. I still can concentrate on what I’m doing.”
A tiny smirk formed on Tommy’s face like he didn’t believe a word of what Chris was saying.
“I promise you, I’m going to be all about the riding. All the time,” Chris said definitively.
“Kiss of death,” Tommy proclaimed.
“Why?”
“Concentrate on the riding only… the riding falls apart. I’m not saying you need to get back together with her. But you need to open yourself up to other opportunities. Have fun this summer. Play around a little in Europe.”
“That’s not really me,” Chris said.
“Make it you,” Tommy said. “Trust me on this one. My last summer in Europe? Now that was some wild shit, and I won at Aachen. I was still freaking hung-over that morning.”
Chris shook his head. Somehow Tommy was one of those people who amazingly was able to ride even if he was hung-over, or still drunk or high. “So what’s going on with you? You’re not still seeing that amateur, are you?”
“Off and on. Right now it’s off. She’s totally hot but she’s kind of freaking crazy.” Tommy chuckled. “What horse girls aren’t though, right?”
“And the horses are going well?”
“Yup. I’ve mostly got only young ones except for Scully. We’re going to keep it really low-key this summer. Go to Vermont.”
“Vermont?”
“You don’t go there, do you?”
“Haven’t been since I was a junior. We’re usually at Spruce.”
“Vermont’s nice. I’ll tell you, it’s relaxed, it’s beautiful. You may not be jumping for crazy money but the footing’s good. It’s all redone. The courses are good. Harry designed half of the weeks last year and Mitchell the other half. I know a lot of people go other places and if I had a bunch of 5-star horses I would too. But I don’t, and so Vermont it is.”
“How many customers are you taking?” Chris asked.
“We usually have about twenty stalls. I have four or five clients. It’s the perfect number. Honestly, I don’t know how some of these bigger operations do it.”
“They have like four trainers,” Chris said, trying to stifle a yawn. He hadn’t slept well since he’d found Mary Beth with Burkie. He often dreamed of Mary Beth, weird dreams where someone evil was chasing them or they were trapped and had to find a way out. Once or twice he’d dreamed of Ashlynn, the girl he’d slept with that one drunken night when he thought he and Mary Beth had broken up. In one of his dreams, Mary Beth found him with Ashlynn, just like he’d found her with Burkie, only Harris had been with Mary Beth, and in the dream Chris had the feeling Mary Beth and Harris were sleeping together.
“Go home,” Tommy said.
“Yeah, that’s where I’m headed.” Of course he wasn’t actually headed home. But home meant hotel to most riders on the circuit.
“Unless you want to go out? Raise some hell?” Tommy gave Chris a look.
“Rain check,” Chris said.
The grand prix was big for Devon, but didn’t look big to Chris after the World Cup. Nothing might ever look big again after the World Cup, except maybe the Olympics. Twenty of the horses in the class would be fine. They would go clear or have four faults. The remaining ten horses would be overmatched. Devon attracted some wild cards, some younger horses and younger riders. It wasn’t on everyone’s schedule anymore. But the course designer had done a good job. Chris liked this designer because his courses were never trappy. Some designers liked to have a bogey jump or a combination set on the half-stride. This designer’s courses were challenging but not crazy. During the course walk Chris studiously avoided Mary Beth, setting off early and walking fast so she wouldn’t catch up. When it looked like she might be coming to talk to him, he headed to a cluster of other riders discussing a turn and quickly inserted himself into their conversation.
Harris had flown in but so far was pretty much leaving Chris alone. He was too busy hobnobbing with other owners.
Chris went three riders after Mary Beth. Would he look at every class he ever rode in this way from now on? How many riders there were between them?
The cheers over her clear round could be heard in the schooling area. She was the first clear so far. Chris jumped an oxer again. Dale had just put it up. Nova felt amazing over it. He was jumping fantastic. Chris didn’t want to waste any more of those jumps. He wanted to save them for the ring so he told Dale to make a tall vertical. He jumped it once in each direction, trying to get to the base for a little rub. Nova wouldn’t touch it, though, which was fine.
“Let’s go,” he said to Dale.
Mary Beth had only recently gotten off her horse and was still lingering at the in-gate. She approached Chris.
He tried to stare ahead at what he could see of the ring, hoping she’d get the idea that he didn’t want to talk to her.
“The five rides tighter than you’d think,” she said.
“Thanks,” he managed to say.
She smiled at Chris. “Good luck.” Then she bent down and kissed Nova on the nose.
That really got under Chris’s skin. She shouldn’t be kissing his horse anymore. Those li
ps that had kissed Burkie, and probably been on other parts of Burkie’s body too. Stop, Chris thought. Oh my God, stop. He had to stop himself from thinking about her and concentrate on the course.
“You okay?” Dale said.
“Yup.”
The rider before him came out of the ring, having had eight faults, and Chris rode in. He urged Nova into a trot as the announcer ran down the list of Chris’s and Nova’s accomplishments. Then he pulled Nova up, and backed him, to make sure the horse was listening. He patted him softly on the shoulder, collected his reins, and departed into the canter again. The tone sounded and he headed to the first jump.
Thankfully muscle memory kicked in. Riding the course took over and any thoughts of Mary Beth disappeared. It was just him and Nova and the jumps. The crowd was into it. He could almost feel them holding their breath as he made his way around the course clear. They wanted him to come back for the jump-off as much as he did. Some horses rub every jump but somehow leave them up. Nova wasn’t touching anything. He was inches above each top rail.
“And that’s our second clean round,” the announcer’s voice reverberated over the stadium after Chris had passed through the timers. “Chris Kern and Interstellar are clean over the first round. We now have two for the jump off.”
By the time the first round was over, there were only four clean. Dale had taken Nova back to the tent for a few moments of rest in his stall. In between the first round and jump off, the tractors did a quick drag and the jump crew removed a few jumps. Chris strategized. The shortened course started oxer to vertical in what walked in seven strides. Chris didn’t think there was a realistic option to leave out a stride there. You slipped inside some ring decorations to slice a vertical. The inside turn there was a must. If you went around the decorations, you’d lose seconds. It was eight strides to a big oxer. Again, Chris didn’t see an option to leave out. It was too long and you’d end up swimming over the oxer. The course ended over a double, oxer-vertical, to a final oxer. The last line might be the only place you could leave out. It walked in eight; but there might be a seven there. He’d see how Mary Beth rode it and then make the decision. One of the two riders after him was known for going all out in the jump-offs and his horse was cat-like and quick, so Chris had to keep that in mind if he wanted to win.
Chris schooled at the same time as Mary Beth, while the crew was putting the final touches on the course, and the announcer was briefing the fans on the route. Neither of them spoke to each other now; they were focused on their jobs. Chris went up to the in-gate a few moments after Mary Beth. He stood watching as she entered the ring.
She did everything exactly as he had planned. The seven, the inside turn, the eight. Coming home after the double she stuck with the eight. Going first, that definitely made the most sense. She was a pretty rider, soft and natural.
Chris still hadn’t decided what he was going to do in that last line as he walked into the ring. If he had a rail, he would likely opt for the eight and not bother trying to be the fastest four-faulter. But if he was clean?
The tone sounded and he headed toward the first jump. He noticed Harris in his box. Harris held up one finger—what the hell did that mean? Win? Be #1? Of course he was trying to win. Chris tried to put Harris and his arrogant stupidity out of his mind. The beginning of the course went according to plan. Nova turned on a dime to slip inside the decorations and Chris got a really nice slice on the vertical. Nova didn’t look incredibly speedy, but he turned so well that he typically ended up with pretty fast times. They were clean coming into the double. You had to wait till you got over the vertical out before you could go if you wanted to try to leave the stride out. The moment Chris felt Nova’s hind legs come down, he had to make the call. Push him for the seven, or wait for the eight? Nova felt so great the whole class. If there was ever a time to go for it, it felt like now. Yet, there were only four in the class; this wouldn’t be a jump-off where each successive rider got faster and faster. If he had to guess, he was on a faster pace than Mary Beth. The worst he would be was third. Yes, Nova was jumping amazing now but up until the class Chris had been sure something was wrong with the horse. No, he wouldn’t risk it. He kept the pace, did the eight, and jumped the last oxer clean. Once he was through the timers, he glanced at the scoreboard. The announcer was issuing the news at the same time: “Chris Kern shaved two-tenths of a second off Mary Beth McCord’s time to take the lead with two remaining.”
Chris could do nothing now except watch the last two riders. He slid off Nova and gave him to Dale. In the riders’ section of the stands by the in-gate, Chris watched, trying not to outwardly show any emotion. He couldn’t risk being seen rooting for either of the riders to fail.
Birdie was next on course. Her horse was big and rangy and not very fast. Halfway through she was clear but it was also evident that her time would be slower. A horse like Birdie’s did better in jump-offs on big fields where you could really get a gallop going and make up time by covering ground. One more to go. One more and Chris would have a very nice win to his name. Harris would be ecstatic, and maybe Chris could use the win to push for some downtime for Nova.
Hank Hays was the one who was known for his speed. His horse had an amazing front end, which meant Hank could nearly plant him at the jumps, and somehow the horse managed to get over the front rail. Chris didn’t think Hank would do the seven down the last line—the horse didn’t have a very big stride. But he might be able to shave off some time in the turns.
The horse rattled the back rail on the first jump but it stayed in the cups. That would have been too easy to have the first jump down. Hank turned the horse nearly in the air over the vertical, making his inside turn super sharp. He was dead-deep to the vertical on the angle and somehow the horse cleared it. Any other horse would have had that down. He was clear over the oxer and headed to the double. Chris gritted his teeth, praying for a rail. But he was clean through the double. Hank landed and shot forward as if he was going for the seven, which made no sense. He then pulled back, like he knew the seven just wasn’t there. The change of plans might have thrown the horse off just enough because he had the back rail down on the last jump.
The crowd aahed. It was always anti-climactic when the last horse came up short. Hank could be seen shaking his head. He was surely kicking himself for screwing that one up. His time had been fast enough to beat Chris, but the rail had dropped him to fourth.
Chris made his way down from the stands with people around him offering congratulations and quick claps on the back.
Dale had thrown the draw reins on Nova so he would behave and look good with his nose tucked in for the award presentation.
“Great win,” Mary Beth said to him as they stood side by side in the ring. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks,” he managed but he didn’t want to think about her. He wanted to think only of the win. Of how he’d made a good plan, stuck to it, and won the right way. Not by being careless or risking everything with Nova but by being smart. Harris would have to be happy with this win. Chris looked for him in the stands. He found him and Harris raised his hands over his head like Chris was a basketball player who’d just sunk a buzzer beater to win the game.
“First and second,” she added. “We could do this a lot if we were together permanently. Think of the horses we could buy…” She raised her eyes at him.
Chris couldn’t believe her. Was she actually implying that if he forgave her and stayed with her, eventually marrying her, her father would buy them both horses? Didn’t she want someone to love her for more than her money? She was trying to get him to take her back but it had the opposite effect. He began to think finding her and Burkie together was a blessing. A gift from the Gods that allowed him to see what she really was.
The announcer began the awards. A few horses danced around them, excited by the noise and commotion. Shows liked you to be on your horse to accept the ribbons—it was part of the experience for the spectators. But it wasn
’t always easy with some horses. Thankfully, Nova was fine with this part of the job. At some shows where riders had more horses they might substitute a similar looking horse for the award presentation—often no one was the wiser. But at Devon, riders had fewer horses to choose from.
The rest of the night was just what Chris needed to distract him from Mary Beth. The sash ribbon tied around Nova’s neck, the victory gallop, the interviews with the media. He was asked to do a quick video interview and he praised the other riders, including Mary Beth, saying what a great class it was and how he was proud to have won at historic Devon. Harris came back to the barn with champagne, which Chris had no idea where he’d gotten it from, and they had a toast. It seemed like overkill but Chris let Harris enjoy the moment. Chris thought about broaching the subject of giving Nova a rest but decided to wait a day or two. He wanted to enjoy this night and not get into an argument with Harris.
Chris slept well that night. Better than he’d slept in a long time. No dreams of Mary Beth. No dreams of Ashlynn. No dreams at all that he could remember, really.
He was just coming out of the bathroom the next morning when his phone rang.
“His leg is huge,” Dale said.
“Whose leg?” As he said it, Chris knew it was a stupid thing to have said. Whose leg could Dale have possibly meant besides Nova’s?
Want to read more about Chris and Hannah? Enjoy the first three chapters of Summer Circuit.
Summer Circuit
Chapter 1
There are times in your life when things change completely. I don’t think this happens in everyone’s life because not everyone lives a part of their life as one person and then discovers that they can live another part of their life as another person. Not that I truly became another person. Maybe I just discovered myself in that adolescent way people are supposed to discover themselves. But one thing is for sure, when I pulled into the show grounds on July third, I had no idea everything was about to change.
Hannah & Chris: Before the Circuit (Show Circuit Series Book 0) Page 4