The sure way in which she thought about being friends with Jordan took Ella by surprise. When had that happened?
Jordan didn’t say anything else, and Ella supposed her flippancy hadn’t been encouraging, either. So Ella said, “Jordan, can I ask you a personal question?”
Jordan turned her head away, and Ella was worried she was drawing into herself again—but she returned a second later with another apple.
“Ask away,” Jordan said.
“Why are you even here?” asked Ella. “You’re like . . . the least troublesome person I bet they’ve ever had at Quartz Creek Ranch.”
Jordan laughed. “I doubt it. What did Ma Etty say, that they’ve been doing this for twenty years?”
“Come on, Jordan.”
The smile fell off Jordan’s lips. She searched Ella’s face, as if she expected to find that Ella was joking—that she didn’t actually expect an answer to her question. When Jordan seemed to realize that Ella was perfectly serious, she sighed.
“Grades.”
Then she took another bite of her apple and stared at her feet.
“Like, you failed a class?” said Ella.
“Like,” said Jordan, mocking Ella’s tone, “I failed all my classes.”
There was a long pause. Ella waited, thinking Jordan would give her more. But she didn’t.
“Why?” Ella asked. “Did you get sick?”
Another long pause.
“Why not?” Jordan asked, surprisingly forceful and a little angry. “Why try? Trying is a waste of time when you know you’re going to fail.”
“Each year is a chance to start over,” Ella said. “You don’t know for sure you’re going to fail.”
“No,” snapped Jordan. “I do know.” She looked Ella right in the eyes as she said, “Every time I try, I fail. I’ve worked and worked in school but even my best isn’t enough. So why bother?” She stood up and threw her apple core. Ella, perplexed, watched it roll away. Jordan had given her a hard time the other day just for tossing a strawberry head.
“You’ve succeeded at lots of things, Jordan,” Ella said. “You’re the best horseback rider I know.”
“My folks thought that, too. They sent me here hoping it would magically make me good at everything.” She narrowed her eyes. “As if spending half a summer riding horses would turn me into somebody like you—somebody who believes totally and blindly in themselves. But I’m not. And I’m not the rider you think I am.”
Ella ignored the insult. “Yes, you are!” She wanted to yell it at Jordan but she knew it would only scare her. “I think you’re great,” Ella said, feeling heat work its way up into her throat. But it wasn’t anger—not like usual. She was sad, frustrated, that Jordan was acting so obtuse. “Does what I think not matter at all to you?”
“You don’t know anything about riding, Ella.”
It hit Ella like a kick to the rib cage.
“So how would you know it if you saw it?” Jordan went on. “Psh, ‘the best horseback rider.’ What do you know?” Jordan turned away. “Nothing, that’s what. So stop pretending you do. I’m going for a swim.”
Sticking her hands in her pockets, Jordan walked away, leaving Ella alone on the picnic blanket.
Ella stood up.
“You’re . . . you’re . . .” Ella couldn’t think of anything better to say, so she shouted after her, “You’re a jerk for saying that, Jordan!”
But Jordan didn’t answer from down the hill. Paul and Drew looked up, probably wondering what she was yelling about.
Ella sat back down, wanting to strangle someone. She hastily wiped at tears forming in her eyes and steeled herself against them. She wasn’t going to give Jordan the benefit of crying.
Ella hadn’t thought that quiet, shy girl had it in her to be cruel like that. It hurt worse than being punched.
So maybe Jordan was right and Ella didn’t know much about horsemanship. She could cop to that. But Ella had seen Jordan ride. She’d heard about the regional championship. The Bridles trusted her.
How could Jordan think so little of herself?
Chapter Eighteen
Jordan didn’t speak at all on the ride home, and when the other kids occasionally asked her things, she responded with yes, no, or a shrug. Ella hoped Jordan would be out of her funk by tomorrow, when they needed to resume training for the show the next weekend. They couldn’t afford to lose even a single day.
Ella still had a lot to do before she was ready to perform in front of a judge.
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But Jordan didn’t speak to Ella at all during the daily lesson with Fletch and Madison. Then, after chores, it was time for practice.
Jordan wasn’t in the barn waiting when Ella arrived, so she tacked up Eight and went out to warm up while she waited. But ten minutes later, Jordan still hadn’t appeared.
Ella couldn’t waste time waiting, so she decided to get on with her practice. She took Eight around the barrels at a canter, but felt nervous going whole hog without Jordan there.
And what if someone caught Ella working out here alone? She couldn’t afford to mess up before the show and risk Mr. Bridle changing his mind about letting her go.
Ella walked Eight up to the gate leading out of the arena. She didn’t want to waste time getting off and on the horse. She remembered Jordan and Loco Roco opening the gate together, and decided to ask Eight to sidle up to it.
Eight was coming in at a direct angle, though, and Ella was too far away.
She thought about it for a moment. Her lesson with Jordan returned to her.
Ella pressed in with the heel opposite the gate, keeping Eight’s head positioned straight ahead. I want to open the gate, she thought, directing her gaze at the latch she wanted to reach. Let’s open the gate together and go on a nice long ride.
Eight immediately stepped sideways, lining up with the gate. Ella reached over and lifted the latch, letting the gate swing open beside them. Then she walked Eight through the open doorway, using opposite leg and rein to spin her around. Ella had to get Eight even closer on the other side so she could reach the open gate and pull it closed again.
When she finished, Ella glanced up automatically to look for the approval on Jordan’s face. But she wasn’t there.
Ella wandered the ranch, looking for signs of her absent teacher. Kim and Drew were playing bean bag toss.
“Whoa, hey, Ella,” said Drew, dropping the bean bags when he saw her ride up on Eight. “What are you doing out here?”
“Seen Jordan?” she asked.
“Not since lunch.”
“I had chores with her,” said Kim. “She left right after. What are you doing riding around on this side of the ranch alone? Won’t you get in trouble?”
Shoot. Ella hadn’t thought about that. She’d been on a mission to find Jordan and thought this was the fastest way to do it.
Ella dismounted and led Figure Eight back to the barn before any of the trainers saw her. Inside, she found Loco Roco’s stall empty.
Silent and stealthy. Jordan must have come as soon as Ella left to go find her.
Ella exhaled and glanced at Figure Eight. The horse nudged her, hoping for a treat. Ella dug one out of her pocket and handed over the goods. Where had Jordan gone?
Trying is a waste of time when you know you’re going to fail.
You don’t know anything about riding, Ella.
Maybe Jordan looked at Ella as a venture. As something she had tried. Teach that loud, angry girl how to talk quietly to her horse.
Maybe Ella had failed, so Jordan had given up.
“Well,” Ella said aloud to Eight, “I haven’t failed me yet. I’m still signed up for the show.”
She had to trust herself if she was going to take the barrels at full tilt. She had to be careful. Back out in the arena, Ella set up the barrels alone, then climbed on Eight’s back.
Figure Eight knew what was coming as soon as they reached the starting line, and broke i
nto a nervous trot. Ella took a deep breath and sat deep in her saddle.
She tested the reins, and felt Eight respond to them. Gentle reminders to slow down brought Eight back to a walk. Another deep, relaxing breath. The barrels didn’t exist yet. Ella kept her eyes on the barn, away from the barrels.
Eight’s neck drooped as she relaxed. She was ready.
Ella looped them around to face the three barrels, off on the other side of the arena. Then, she leaned forward, and kicked.
Eight leapt into motion.
She galloped toward the first barrel. Ella kept her eyes on the spot behind it, where she wanted Eight to go, and indicated with her heel and just a bit of rein. She wanted to turn soon. Eight leaned her head in.
She had heard.
Just before the barrel, Eight’s body curved. They spun around the first barrel and whipped on to the second.
Nothing slipped through Ella’s mind except: Look. Heel. Rein. Body. She helped Eight around each turn with her own weight, using her thighs to keep them in sync.
Then they were clear of the second barrel and cannonballing toward the third. Eight’s breaths went huf huf huf in time with the beat of her hooves.
Ella gazed past the next barrel and Eight slowed, just enough for Ella to push her around it. Ella felt the barrel graze the tip of her boot.
Then they were clear of the last barrel.
Facing the final length of the race, wind hurling her braid all around her neck, Ella leaned forward and let Eight have the reins. Figure Eight leapt forward, toward home, hurling dust into the air as they raced to the finish line.
Reaching the other end of the arena, Ella slowed Eight to a trot. As they started a cool-down lap, someone clapped.
“Looking good,” said Mr. Bridle. He leaned against the fence and glanced around. “But where’s Jordan?”
Ella shrugged. “She didn’t show up today.”
He rubbed his chin. She hoped he wouldn’t chew her out for being here alone.
“Should have told someone,” he said.
“I’m sorry. I just have so little time left to prepare for the show, I didn’t want to waste it.”
Mr. Bridle nodded. “It’s done,” he said. “No use dwelling on it. But I wonder what happened. Did you two have a fight?”
“I guess. But it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t lose my temper.”
“That’s good. I’m sure she’ll come back when she’s ready.”
“Everyone says that.” Ella walked Eight away from the fence and did a figure eight. “But I need her now.”
“I don’t think so. You looked pretty good out there.” Mr. Bridle stood up straight and tipped his hat. “I think all that needs is some spit and polish, and you’re ready.”
“Whoa,” Ella said to Eight, just sitting up in her seat a little to earn a halt. “You think so, Mr. Bridle?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. Jordan’s been a great teacher.”
“I know!” Ella urged Eight back into a walk to work off the sweat. “I tried to tell her that, too, but she wouldn’t believe me. She said I didn’t know enough about horses to know the difference.”
Mr. Bridle’s eyebrows went up. “Our Jordan said that?”
Ella nodded.
“Well, from what I saw, she’s doing something,” said Mr. Bridle. “Still has a lot to learn, but don’t we all? I’ve been teaching people how to know and ride horses for half my life and I’m always learning new stuff.”
“Jordan doesn’t see it that way. I think I failed her.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
But Mr. Bridle didn’t know Jordan.
“Well,” said Mr. Bridle, “I guess I better come out and watch you if Jordan’s falling down in her duties. You still have a show to prepare for.”
That’s right—the show! An idea occurred to Ella.
Maybe she could prove to Jordan that she hadn’t failed . . . by winning that first-prize belt buckle.
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On Thursday, they were all told they’d be going on a field trip to the gymkhana show to cheer Ella on. The other kids wanted to know how training was going.
“Minus a teacher,” Ella said, looking at Jordan as she said it, “but just drilling exercises with Mr. Bridle. One day at a time.” She’d stopped taking Jordan’s plates to the sink and making her bed. Now Jordan took her plates herself, and the bed sat unmade all day, to Madison’s annoyance.
“Hard core,” said Kim. “Figure Eight’s gonna be great.”
“If anybody can kick butt at this, it’s you, Ella,” said Drew.
It was sweet of them to encourage her, but she wished Jordan would say something, instead of just pick at her food. Ella missed her friend—goofing around, talking about horses. This silent war sucked.
Before Ella knew it, Friday rolled around: her last day before the show. Madison came into the barn just as Ella was tacking up and said, “Take the day off.”
Ella remembered what Jordan had told her about horses needing a day off, too.
“We will be working pretty hard tomorrow,” Ella said, lowering the blanket she was about to put on. “Maybe we should just walk around today, huh, Eight?”
“Go take Figure Eight and see if Paul needs help with something,” said Madison. “Spend some time with her meditating about your future victory.”
Pleased that Madison was allowing her to ride alone, Ella finished tacking up and mounted outside. She headed north along Bridlemile Road, where Paul and his ranch hands did their work, secretly hoping she’d run into Jordan.
She wanted to be mad. Her teacher had abandoned her just a few days before the big event. But more than anything, she just wanted things to go back to the way they were.
As Ella and Eight padded through the pasture, following the creek, Ella spotted a dark shape sitting up in a tree. A tan horse stood underneath it, drinking out of the creek. It was Loco Roco.
Up in the tree, Jordan ignored Ella’s approach and kept staring up at the sky.
“Jordan?” asked Ella, flabbergasted. So this was where she’d been. “This is what you’re doing with your free time now?”
Jordan shrugged, not saying anything.
“Great,” said Ella. “First you’re mean to me. Then you abandon me at practice. Now you’re going to pretend like I don’t exist?” She reined Eight around. “Fine. I don’t need any of your mopey self-loathing anyway.”
“First, you’re going to pretend like I don’t exist,” said Jordan, mocking Ella’s tone again. “Then you’re going to be mean to me. Now you’re going to call me a liar and then expect me to be your friend?”
Okay, so maybe Ella did call her that one time. “I’m sorry I said that,” she said. “But it was . . . before, you know?” Before what, Ella wasn’t exactly sure. Before she decided to stop being a jerk to everyone?
“Whatever.” Jordan leaned back in the tree. Ella waited for her to say something else, but Jordan just plucked leaves off a branch and tossed them to the ground.
“Urgh!” Ella said. “You’re so irritating!”
Ella backed away from Jordan and Loco Roco, turned Figure Eight around, and urged her up out of the creek bed. She wanted to knock Jordan’s lights out. Maybe that’s what it would take to wake her up.
No, Ella thought. Jordan would come around on Saturday. With that first-place ribbon hanging off Figure Eight’s saddle, and the buckle clipped onto her belt—then Jordan would see.
Chapter Nineteen
Saturday morning, anticipation got Ella up earlier than Jordan or even the sun. She found Eight in the barn and took her outside, tying her up by the pasture with a bucket of grain and standing with her as she ate.
Paul pulled the trailer around and they loaded up. The two of them drove to the fairgrounds alone; Fletch, Madison, the Bridles, and the other kids would join them later.
First, they registered and parked among the assorted cars and trailers. This was mu
ch smaller than the rodeo, but even this early in the morning, the place buzzed with activity. It was a youth show, so she wouldn’t race against adults. But some of the kids she saw warming up looked like they’d grown up in the saddle.
Paul offered Ella a cowboy hat. “Here. This will help you blend in, city kid.”
They unloaded Figure Eight and gave her something to eat as they relaxed, getting accustomed together to a new environment. Then it was time to tack up and start warming up.
The morning was hot and full by the time the white Quartz Creek Ranch van appeared. The kids piled out and checked out the surroundings, but Ella was focused on what she had to do.
It was time to win.
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There were twenty-one contestants in Ella’s group.
Ella glanced around at the other people waiting. Some her own age, some younger, most of them older. A serious-looking boy in a nice hat rode a big bay quarter horse. A tall girl sat on a small Arabian who obeyed her every command. They all warmed up with expert hands.
“Hey, tiger,” Drew said to Ella, patting Figure Eight on the neck as he, Kim, and Ash wandered over. “You’re gonna do great.”
“Never said I wouldn’t,” said Ella.
Ash barked a laugh. “That’s Ella, always confident. Hey, have you seen Jordan at all?”
Ella slowly shook her head. She’d been looking, but Jordan had turned invisible. “No, I haven’t.”
“Hmm. She took off right when we got here. Haven’t seen her since.”
“Whatever,” said Kim. “You’ve got to focus on winning that prize, Ell. What was it, a gift certificate or something?”
“A belt buckle,” said Ella. “One of those big ones.”
“Oooh,” said Kim, laughing. “I’d prefer the gift certificate.”
“I think belt buckles are sweet,” said Drew. “It’s something you can’t just buy. It’s special. Anyway, good luck! I hope you win.”
“Thanks, Drew.” Ella rolled her eyes at the other two. “Can’t just root for me, can you?”
Kim made a woo woo noise. “I’ll root for you to win a gift certificate.”
At Top Speed (Quartz Creek Ranch) Page 12