And We Danced

by Toni Mari

  “Yeah, my trailer. Like it? Want to stay for dinner? I think we have some mac and cheese in the cabinet.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I paused, but when he looked at his feet again I took a deep breath. “I came to say I’m sorry. I’m stupid, I’m shallow, I’m immature, I have no brains. You are right about me—I have my priorities screwed up and I don’t want you to be mad at me.” A sob escaped my throat.

  Cory’s head snapped up. “Sit.”

  I perched on the edge of the chair and wiped at my face with my shirt sleeve. “I really am sorry about Jet.”

  “I know. It’s just that he means so much to me. I’m sorry for being mean to you.”

  “Oh, no. I deserved it. I was acting like an idiot.”

  He stood up and pulled me into his arms. “You are an idiot.” And he squeezed me tighter. “For putting up with me, especially now that you see who I really am,” he whispered. I didn’t know what he meant, but I was so happy that he wasn’t mad. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged back.

  After a minute, I mumbled into his shirt, “I was planning on buying you dinner and pleading my case.”

  He leaned back and put his hands on the sides of my face. Searing me with a blue gaze, he kissed me. “There is no case. I was upset and I was mean. I’m sorry. You are none of those things, and you don’t deserve that comment I made. I’m the asshole that should be buying you dinner.”

  Relief warmed my smile as I teased him. “You’re not that mean. And you need to stop calling yourself an asshole, or I might start believing you.”

  He blinked and shook his head. “You should.”

  Before he could pull back, I whispered, “Kiss me, cowboy.”

  Chapter 2 9

  As the dawn light made the trees glow, Cory gave me a pep talk. “Remember, you and Windsong are a great team. No one else’s opinion matters,” Cory said as we rode next to Kate in the truck. Windsong was in the trailer and we were on our way to my qualifying show. “You’ve done the hard work. This is your first show with him, so you’ll just focus on your work and not on his behavior. Are you listening to me?” He squeezed my hand.

  I was staring out the window, thinking back over all we had been through. Sometimes, it seemed like Windsong was the only horse I had ever ridden. It had been only two and a half months since he came into my life, and I grinned to myself recalling the first time I met Cory, chasing down Windsong and roping him from Jet’s back. I had thought he was a rough cowboy, and he thought I was a spoiled princess. He obviously had better people-judging skills than I did. I glanced at him. Deep down, did he still think I was a spoiled princess? He had proved to me he was so much more than a rough cowboy.

  “Yes, Dr. Cory,” I replied, even though I sort of wasn’t. I wasn’t nervous, sitting here in the truck, holding his hand. Windsong was a superstar. In the making, I remembered to add. We would be fine. Whatever the results, he was my partner now. We would just try again until we did it right.

  We parked next to a long silver trailer, and when I got out of the truck, I shook my head. Of course. Rainbow Ridge, Melinda Kratz’s farm.

  “Hi, Jane,” a syrupy voice called.

  I pasted a smile on my face and turned, “Hi, Melinda. Good to see you.”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d make it today. I thought you might not be ready to show that lunatic horse you bought.” Melinda’s expression of superiority instantly changed to one of cute flirtation. “Oh, hi,” she said looking past me, smiling.

  I rolled my eyes. For Pete’s sake, Melinda must have spotted Cory. Sure enough, I heard his deep voice behind me. I looked over my shoulder, and he was a sight: his tall, lanky frame in snug-fitting jeans and a well-worn t-shirt, dark hair curling against his neck, hat tipped at a cocky angle, and brilliant blue eyes sparkling with amusement. I grinned.

  “Hey,” he slipped his arms around my waist and dropped a quick kiss on my neck. “We have to unload your horse, darling,” he drawled.

  I watched Melinda’s mouth drop open and her eyes bug out. I laughed out loud. “Cory, this is Melinda. Melinda usually rides in the same classes as I do. You better back up, Melinda. I don’t know what Windsong will do when he comes off the trailer. He’ll probably smell your barn and go ballistic.” I waved my hands at her and, turning, gave Cory a little slap. He did have a mean streak, but I didn’t mind as long as it was aimed at Melinda.

  Windsong came flying off the trailer, landed in the grass, and reared. I was accustomed to this now and just tugged him forward until he landed. I handed him a few treats and patted his neck. “Easy, baby. We’re all here and we won’t leave you,” I soothed.

  “Like I said: lunatic horse,” Melinda repeated, with a snicker, and she walked away.

  Windsong was more of a mess than usual. He couldn’t stand still and kept turning around to look behind him. Among the three of us, we got his saddle on. Then, with Cory on one side and me on the other, Kate slipped his halter off and got the bridle on. It wasn’t an easy feat because his head kept swinging as he stepped this way and that, trying to see everything at once. Cory held him while I went in the trailer to put on my show clothes.

  “Shit!” Cory shouted. I stuck my head out the door at the sound of pounding hooves. Windsong was loose and headed down the row of horse trailers at a gallop. He held his head and tail straight up, reins flapping.

  I leaped out of the trailer and screamed, “Windsong! Windsong!” as I hit the ground running. Surprisingly, when I called him, Windsong spun around and sped back toward me. We ran to each other like long lost lovers. I grabbed the reins and he bumped his nose into my chest. I put my arms up and hugged his head. “You dumbass. Where were you going?” I whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Jane. As soon as you went in the trailer, he went nuts,” Cory said when he caught up to us. “I think he needs to be able to see you.”

  “Shit, that scared me. I’m still shaking.” I looked down and realized I was still in my socks. At least I had a shirt on. “How am I going to get dressed now?”

  Kate had the solution when we got back to the trailer. We set Windsong’s hay bag near the door to the tack room, only closed the screen door, and I had to keep talking while I changed as fast as I could. It worked. Windsong stayed there and nickered softly once in a while in response to my voice.

  I wouldn’t say that Windsong was calm, but he stood still enough that I could get on if I did it fast. Just as I was throwing my leg over, that twangy voice rang out.

  “Good luck!” Melinda said as she smacked her whip sharply on her boot. The loud crack made Windsong jump. With my one leg still suspended in midair, I lost my balance, but Cory checked Windsong and gave me a small shove that got me into the saddle. Cory kept a hold of Windsong’s head.

  “She did that on purpose,” I hissed.

  “She sure did,” Cory agreed. “She meant it to rattle you. Are you going to let it?”

  I stared at him a minute. “I’d rather be mad at her because when I’m not thinking of her asinine behavior, I’m getting myself scared.”

  “Of Windsong?”

  “No, of sucking. What if I ride like an asshole and prove them all right? They’ll blame Windsong,” I said in a shaky voice.

  Cory squeezed my leg. “You take care of Windsong, and he’ll take care of you. There is no one else but you and Windsong.” Cory’s voice was strong and convincing.

  “Just me and Windsong,” I repeated. I was doing it again: thinking about how I looked and making winning more important. I knew Cory was right; a good partnership would always be the winning ride. But boy, I couldn’t wait to win a ribbon higher than Melinda’s. Maybe today would be that day.

  We had to walk down a gravel driveway past all the parked horse trailers. People had awnings up and lawn chairs out. Dogs were tied to truck bumpers. Kids were playing around. Lined by trees, the lane was not exactly smooth and Windsong had to pick his way along. Each time he stepped on a ja
gged rock and limped, I winced for him.

  Thank goodness Cory stayed at Windsong’s head, keeping a steady hand on the reins. Windsong seemed to jump and slide sideways whenever he saw movement or heard a dog bark.

  At the gate to the warm-up ring, Cory looked up at me and said, “Remember, only you and Windsong matter, no one else.”

  “We’re going to stand over by the marker with the letter M on it,” Kate said. “Pass by me a lot so that I can help you.” There were too many horses and riders warming up for Kate to stand inside the ring to coach me. She would have to shout instructions from the side.

  Once I walked through the gate, I was on my own. I took a deep breath. “Only me and you, Windsong,” I whispered.

  We walked along the rail, watching riders to see how they moved around the ring. With other horses about, Windsong seemed to feel safe and walked quietly. I nodded to Kate and picked up a trot, keeping the reins long so that Windsong could stretch and warm up. I focused on avoiding the traffic in front of me.

  A horse was coming up from behind me, trying to pass between the fence and Windsong’s body. I didn’t turn to look, but looked forward in the crowd ahead to find an opening to ease Windsong through.

  Suddenly, Windsong flinched and leaped forward. He galloped madly through the pack of horses, bumping into one or two. I was thrown backward in the saddle but managed to hook a hand under the pommel to keep my balance. I was startled by the sudden start, but thanks to Cory and Jet I wasn’t afraid of such speed. Shortening the reins, I gently, but firmly, guided Windsong onto a small circle. When he collected himself to make the circle, I brought him back to the walk. When he was calm again, I looked around for something that could have spooked him. I rubbed his neck and whispered to him and then started trotting.

  When I came up to Kate and Cory, Kate said, “Are you okay?”

  Cory looked fighting mad. What was that all about?

  “I’m fine,” I said, stopping Windsong in front of them. “That was weird. He acted like he was stung by a bee.”

  “Yeah, stung by the wicked witch’s whip!” Cory said fiercely. “We should go report her to the technical delegate.”

  “The wicked witch?” My eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about?”

  Cory pointed at Melinda, serenely riding Belvedere past. “She smacked your horse with her whip! Sure, she pretended it was an accident, but it wasn’t, I know.”

  I mouthed Melinda? I watched her cantering in the crowded arena. She never let her gaze waver from her horse’s ears. I shrugged. “Bitch,” I said with no malice.

  I grinned and Cory gave me a funny look. “No one matters but me and Windsong. I’m quoting Dr. Banks in his pregame speech.” Cory wanted to fight dragons for me, which made me not even care about the dragons. Or should I say the wicked witches?

  He looked at me for a second, and then he grinned too. “Right. Go kick her ass. In the arena, of course.” He held up his fist, and I leaned over and bumped knuckles with him. Then he blew me a kiss, and there was pride in his eyes. I glowed.

  I was relieved when Kate waved me out of that warm-up ring.

  “I’ll actually feel better in the show arena all by myself!” I declared.

  “I know,” Kate said. “That was a crazy warm-up. Put it and Melinda out of your mind, Jane. I’m already proud of you. Whatever happens in there, you’ve already done great.” She reached over and patted my knee. I frowned; was I heading into a war zone? Whatever happens in there?

  I looked over at Cory. He was watching me intently. He nodded, reached for my hand, and gave me a reassuring squeeze. “Leave the crap out in the warm-up. Time to focus.”

  We watched the end of Melinda’s test, which was steady and nice.

  I had to pass by her on my way in as she exited the arena. I smiled sweetly and said, “Nice job.”

  Melinda’s mouth dropped open. I didn’t stick around to see if she would answer with the standard, “Good luck,” or with something not quite so standard.

  I waved to my parents as I passed them in the stands. But then my mouth fell open. Oh shit, that was Robert sitting next to my mom. I nodded stiffly to Kate and gave a little wave to Robert. He waved back. I looked around to see if Melinda was impressed. She was gone, but my gaze fell on Cory leaning on the fence. With his hat on and his leg up on the bottom rail, he looked so cowboy and definitely not dressage that I smiled again. At least Melinda knew he was watching. He looked me right in the eye, pointed to Windsong and gave me a thumbs-up. Cory was calm and confident. His Zen energy leaped through the air and filled my body.

  The judge blew the whistle to signal me to begin my test. Like Pavlov’s dogs, that sound had a specific effect on me. Instead of drooling, I had an attack of nerves that wiped my mind and left me shaking. This was the technical test, and all riders in the same class rode the same pattern. I entered at the canter down the centerline to halt in the center of the ring and salute the judge. After that, I was drawing a blank. I couldn’t remember the rest of the test. I did a slow-motion salute in hopes that something would come back to me. I could feel Windsong’s muscles bunching and he wasn’t going to wait much longer for me to have a brainstorm. I hesitantly sent him forward. We headed straight for the judge’s stand. I felt his body coil and I reached forward and rubbed my knuckles on his neck. He relaxed a degree.

  His response to that little reassurance calmed me. Windsong was there and present. He was nervous but seemed willing to follow my lead and was waiting for direction from me. It was just riding. I sucked in a breath and gave myself a mental shake. Of course. Turn left, extended trot across the diagonal. But my own body was tense, my hands were still shaky, and I spastically signaled the extended trot too roughly so that Windsong broke into a canter instead. Shit! As I repaired the extended trot and eased him toward the next movement, I got back in the game.

  Windsong was in full-blown performance mode. I barely had to signal a movement and he overdid it trying to show off. We were too enthusiastic on our canter pirouettes and went a stride past a perfect three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn. I kicked myself mentally. Then it was time for our two tempis. Every two strides Windsong had to skip in the air and switch canter leads. On our second change to the right, Windsong’s rhythm faltered. I gave myself a mental slap when I suddenly remembered Robert’s advice about my right hand. I shot my hand forward and the correction was too drastic, throwing off our rhythm even more. I thought we would miss the change and do an extra stride, but Windsong got it done. Points off for not being straight; I gave myself another mental shake. On the next line of one tempis, I was on it. They came out straight and light, and I grinned. Then lengthen stride to the final halt. This was our finale, so Windsong kicked it. He lifted his head, lowered his butt, and stretched his long, elegant legs up and out, toes pointing. Nothing could have been any sweeter as we floated to the final halt, slam! right in front of the judge. I squared my shoulders, kept my chin high, and firmly dropped my right arm, fingertips extended, as I briskly and crisply nodded in salute to the judge. The judge’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded back with a happy smile. I laughed out loud, leaned forward, and hugged Windsong. We left the arena at a strong, confident walk, proud.

  I nodded and said the standard “Good luck,” to the next rider as I passed her. Everyone met me at the gate as I exited the arena. They were all smiling and congratulating me.

  I looked at Kate with a little grimace. “I messed up a few things.”

  She shook her head. “No, really. That was a great test for your first time out. I have no complaints. Excellent job!” She patted my knee.

  Robert smiled, reached up, and shook my hand. “Nice job.”

  “I’m sorry, my nerves got to me. I didn’t do the changes like you wanted me to until half way through.”

  “But your second line of one tempis was nearly perfect. Really well done,” he assured me.

  Mom and Dad gave me one-armed hugs as I leaned down from the saddle. Cory stood back, b
ut he was smiling. I caught his eye and winked at him. His eyebrows shot up and he chuckled. Mom wanted a million pictures, insisting on getting a shot of me smooching Cory. I rolled my eyes, but he didn’t seem to mind. Then we all headed back to the trailer.

  When Windsong was settled in his stall, washed, fed, and resting, Kate went to the secretary’s stand to retrieve my test score. While we waited for her, we set up the barbecue and started grilling.

  I spotted Kate coming back. “Well, at least she’s smiling,” I said warily.

  “Not bad, my dear.” Kate grinned. “Sixty-two point three five percent. You placed sixth. Way to go!”

  “Woooo!” I shrieked. I heaved a sigh of relief. We could only get better from here. My eyes found Cory. “That’s a qualifying score.”

  He grinned. “Congratulations,” and kissed my cheek.

  We sat around the barbecue, eating and chatting.

  “Kate, how did Melinda do?” I hadn’t run into her since our class.

  “Second place, with a sixty-four point six five,” Kate reported. “Remember, Jane, this is her second year on that horse doing these classes. She has a lot more mileage than you do. You did fabulous.” She raised her eyebrows at me.

  “I know. I just wanted to know how she did. You know, after all that stuff in the warm-up. It’s fine, I’m happy. I’ll be even better tomorrow,” I reassured Kate.

  Cory and I headed to the barn to do a last night check on Windsong. We walked hand in hand down the lane of trailers. I gave Windsong a few treats, refilled his water bucket, and patted him goodnight. Cory leaned against the stall wall waiting for me. He snagged my hand and pulled me to him.

  “I’m really proud of you and Elton, darling,” he drawled as he nibbled my neck and snuggled close.

  “Uh-oh. When you lay on the southern drawl, I wonder what you are trying to charm me into,” I teased, leaning into him.

  “It’s not what I want to charm you into, but what I want to charm you out of. Such as your pants,” Cory responded, kissing my cheeks and jawline.