Hunter Derby: (Show Circuit Series -- Book 3)

by Kim Ablon Whitney

  She guessed it wouldn’t feel as good if she were someone like Donnie, trying to pass off a half-sound horse that had been lunged or, even drugged, into submission. How could people like Donnie do what they did—sell horses they knew weren’t as advertised?

  They had to sell some good ones, or else they’d never make another sale again. It was just every so often they pulled one over on a clueless buyer. They picked and chose whom to fleece. Established trainers they’d see every day and who would even judge them, they didn’t mess with.

  It was the smaller no-name trainers who thought they were oh-so-cool taking a client who actually had money to someone like Donnie to buy a horse. Zoe used to feel nothing but distaste for those rubes, but now she felt her heart go out to them. Those trainers and clients didn’t know any better.

  John had jumped the last few fences and was on the way out of the ring. He didn’t have any rails down but because he was going for the equitation school he had multiple time faults.

  “When can I try him?” Brett said to Zoe.

  It was all she could do not to give a little squeal. “What works for you?”

  Brett tried Cruz a few hours later. The sun had warmed up the showgrounds and all around people were peeling off layers and tucking them in ring bags and golf carts. The rider he had for Cruz was pretty damn good but didn’t have much money—well, not in horse show terms, anyway. In real life terms, her family was comfortably well-off.

  But because she didn’t have a half-million dollars floating around to put toward a proven eq horse, she’d have to make due with a greenie. She had three more years left in the eq, including this one, so they had decided it made the most sense to invest all their money in a horse that could end up being the real deal, instead of spreading out the 150K they had to spend on three years of leasing a mediocre eq horse and then have nothing to show for it money-wise at the end.

  This route meant a possible payoff. If they did a good job bringing Cruz the rest of the way and he stayed sound—and there was no reason he shouldn’t—and if she got ribbons on him at the finals, they could be looking at 200K to 300K in their pocket.

  “We’ve looked at a lot of horses,” Brett admitted. “The shit people try to sell you, I swear.”

  “John’s really selective in what he buys,” Zoe said, nodding effusively. “And he puts a lot of work into his horses. Cruz is really ready to go to the next level.”

  Zoe noticed a few other trainers noticing her, noticing that she had a nice horse that was being tried.

  The girl rode Cruz nicely. She kept patting him, which Zoe took to mean she liked him. Brett fielded three phone calls while she was trying him—often saying one thing into the phone and then calling out to the girl, “Jump the oxer,” and then going back to whoever was on the phone. He kept calling the people he was talking to dear and sweetie.

  Once when he was still on a call, he said to Zoe, “I want to talk to the parents, probably have him vetted. You have X-rays?”

  “Yup,” Zoe said.

  “You showing him to anybody else today, dear?” Brett asked, with the phone still pressed to his ear. Into the receiver he said, “Yes, I know it’s a dog. I told her it was a dog when she showed up at my barn with it.”

  Brett held the phone out and made an exaggerated face for Zoe and John’s benefit.

  Zoe said, “We’ll give you first right of refusal.”

  “Yup, sweetie, bye,” Brett said into the phone. He clicked off and then told Zoe and John, “I like the horse. I’ll be back to you ASAP.”

  The girl rode Cruz up to them and hopped off. She patted his neck again.

  “You like him, right, darling?” Brett said to her.

  “A lot,” she replied.

  “I know. He’s a good one for you. We’ll see if we can get it done, sweetie.”

  The girl handed the reins to Zoe.

  Brett said, “A hundred and thirty, right?”

  “One-fifty,” Zoe said. She knew she had said one-fifty.

  “Don’t we have some leeway?” Brett said.

  “Not really,” Zoe said.

  “Do we have to take care of you on this, dear?” Brett said.

  “No,” Zoe said. “One-fifty is with everyone taken care of.”

  “Okay.” He leaned a little closer to her. “So, girl, what about you and Donnie? Are you like totally done with that fuckwit?”

  “Totally done with him.”

  “Do you know he sold a client of mine a horse that was nerved? Before she came to me, of course. Oh my God, nerved! Can you believe that, dear? They had no idea.”

  “Sadly, I can believe it,” Zoe said.

  “Good for you for getting out of that situation,” Brett said. “You be good to yourself now, sweetie.”

  “I will, I mean, I am,” Zoe said.

  Brett’s phone buzzed again and he answered, waving to them and mouthing good-bye. John hopped back on Cruz and told Zoe he’d see her later.

  “I’ll come back to the barn,” she said.

  “You don’t have to. I can take care of him.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I don’t mind.”

  “Okay,” he said, as he headed out of the schooling ring.

  Zoe got on her bike and pedaled back to the barn, passing John and Cruz on the way. At the tent, she got out the wash bucket and squirted a dash of shampoo in it. John rode up on Cruz and Zoe undid the girth and slid off the saddle while John slid on Cruz’s halter.

  “That certainly seemed to go well, sweetie,” John said as he hung the bridle on the cleaning hook with the few others waiting there.

  Zoe chuckled. “I know, and other people were watching so you’re getting a secondary benefit of it too. People talk about what horse so-and-so just bought and from-who and pretty soon they’ll be calling you up asking what you have available.”

  Zoe grabbed the bucket and reached for the lead rope that John was holding. “I’ll take him out and wash him down.”

  “I can do it,” he said. “Why should you?”

  They both held the lead rope, and they laughed because it was as if they were going to have a tug-of-war to see who would get the privilege of washing down Cruz.

  “You didn’t feel like I took over too much out there, I mean with Brett?” Zoe asked.

  “No, you’re the one who knows these people and you know what to say, what they want to hear. It makes sense that you do more of the talking.”

  “I just hope you don’t feel like I don’t think you could handle it or something?”

  “It’s fine, dear,” John said. “We’re a good team.”

  “I know, who would have thought?”

  “What do you mean? You wouldn’t have thought we’d be good partners?”

  Zoe’s hand was still on the lead rope. “We didn’t get off on the best foot when we first met if you recall . . .”

  “And you’re like miss super-star and I’m just this guy with a few horses for sale.”

  “Don’t put yourself down. You have a small sales operation. You have really nice horses. One that we’re about to sell for a nice chunk of change.”

  Cruz had been waiting pretty patiently but he lifted a leg and pawed the ground once, as if he was just trying to remind them he was here, waiting to be put away.

  “Maybe I’m like the marketing department of our sales operation?” Zoe said.

  John gave a playful tug on the lead rope. “Our?”

  “Too soon?” she said, cocking her head flirtatiously.

  “Maybe a little.” He took his free hand and used it to literally pry her fingers off the lead rope. “I’ve got this one, sweetie.”

  “Fine, I’ll clean some tack, darling.”

  Now that it was time to move, Cruz didn’t want to anymore and John had to nudge his shoulder and cluck to get him going down the aisle to the wash rack.

  Zoe got the tack bucket and headed out behind him. He was filling his bucket and she placed her bucket on the ground next to his.
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  “Following me?” he said, over the spray of the hose.

  “I need water? To clean the tack?” She motioned to her bucket as his was almost filled, full of frothy bubbles.

  Cruz reached out to sniff the buckets, as if they might be filled with something more interesting than water.

  “You wanna get dinner tonight?” he said.

  “Sounds great,” she said.

  “Maybe we could even watch a movie. I know it seems kind of wrong to be watching something without Molly but I heard about a really good one where a girl needs a wedding dress and she falls in love with the boyfriend of the wedding planner, who’s also really a maid by the way, whose best friend is really in love with the guy the girl who needs the wedding dress is supposed to marry, but the girl who needs the wedding dress thinks he’s . . .”

  “Stop, please,” she said, taking the hose out of his hand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The rest of the afternoon she wondered if things were changing between them. It sure felt like it. It felt like something more than friendship was taking root.

  But maybe it was just the glow coming off their success with Gidget and now with the possible sale of Cruz. Brett had called to arrange the vetting. It was possible that before long money would be transferred and Cruz would be leaving Lake Placid in a different van than the one he’d come in.

  Zoe was busy that afternoon helping Linda with Dakota in the equitation so she didn’t see much of John. She spotted him watching the schooling area for the grand prix field during the $20,000 1.40 meter open stake class. It was smart of him not to watch the class itself but to study the schooling area, to watch how the top riders prepared their horses. It was probably more of an education than watching the actual class.

  While the Maclay was flatting, she got a text from Morgan, of all people.

  Wanna hang out tonight?

  She looked at her phone and back up to the class. Dakota had put in a good trip with Plato and she still needed Maclay points. She looked good on the flat. If anything she’d probably move up a spot or two. One of the girls who had also been good was short and a little stocky.

  The equitation kind of sucked in that if you weren’t built for it you had an uphill battle. Zoe had been built for it and Dakota was too. The stocky girl was a good rider but she nearly always slipped a spot or two in the flat, and even over fences her look detracted from her talent.

  Zoe glanced at her phone again, rereading the text. What the hell was she supposed to do? She had said she’d have dinner with John, but they could have dinner any night, and if she had dinner with him she’d wish that something more would happen and then she might throw herself at him again. And he’d likely turn her down again.

  It was better to keep it platonic, she told herself. They were good partners—business partners. They were working well together and if she could just keep that up, keep building her visibility in the show ring, it was only a matter of time before a position opened up riding at a big barn again.

  Maybe she’d still be able to agent some of his horses once she was at a bigger barn. He could even send them to her to get sold once he’d put the work into them.

  If they went out tonight she could see it now: things would get all weird, and he’d decide he wasn’t going to the big shows anymore. Just like that, she’d have lost her one good ride and a chance at a good job again.

  She decided to write back to Morgan. Are you here?

  Coming tonight. Doing the GP Sunday.

  It must be nice to be Morgan. Of course his horses were already at the show, being prepared by his trainer. He’d cruise on in and jump in the biggest class at the show.

  Okay, she wrote back. It was one little word but it felt like a pretty big decision.

  And maybe the wrong one.

  The riders were called to the middle of the ring. Shortly thereafter, the results were announced.

  Dakota finished second. It was a good ribbon, even though it was late in the qualifying season and most of the really top riders were already qualified. She was now qualified for the Regionals, and it also qualified her for the Kathy Scholl equitation class at the end of the show for riders who placed first or second in any of the big eq classes.

  The mood was jovial as she and Linda zoomed back to the tent in the golf cart.

  “That’s a load off,” Linda said. “We’re all set except for the Talent Search, which, if it happens, great, if it doesn’t, she’s still young and it’s not the total end of the world.”

  “What horse will you use at the Talent Search Finals? You won’t use Dudley or Plato?”

  “No, she’ll probably ride Logan actually.”

  “That’s a good call. He’s super brave and rideable.”

  Zoe almost added that there was a time when those things certainly wouldn’t have been said about Logan but she stopped herself since Linda didn’t need to know the whole history of Logan before Dakota had bought him. “Hannah would think that Logan doing the Talent Search was super cool.”

  “How is Hannah?” Linda asked. “Talk to her lately?”

  “We text but we don’t talk all that much. I think she kind of needs to separate herself from the horse shows for a while and maybe talking to me makes it harder to do.”

  “I get that. When I stopped doing the horses for a while, I didn’t want to talk to anyone that was still in it. Does she talk to Chris?”

  “No. Well, not that I know of anyway.”

  “Did you see the team won at St. Gallen?”

  They passed Callie in her golf cart, her two Shiba Inu dogs riding shotgun. Both Linda and Zoe waved.

  “Yeah, I saw the photos. Chris and Mary Beth together, smiling like crazy. I hope Hannah unfollowed all horse-related social media.”

  “Do you think they’re back together?” Linda asked.

  “Probably. I mean they’re in Europe together all summer, at the same shows, on the same team.”

  Linda made a face. “I hope Chris has better sense then to take back up with her.”

  “Me too, but you know guys.”

  They pulled up to the tent. Zoe had forgotten for a few moments that she had to tell John she couldn’t have dinner with him. He was wrapping Cruz.

  “How’d Dakota do?” he asked.

  “Second. Now she’s all qualified, except for the Talent Search. It’d be great if she could knock that one off her list tomorrow.”

  “Linda must be relieved,” John said.

  “Very.”

  “So where do you want to eat?” John stood up. He was suddenly close to her, and she didn’t know how she was going to tell him. She could cancel with Morgan. But no, she had to stick to her plan. Platonic. Keep it platonic.

  “Actually, I saw an old friend up at the ring—”

  “Oh, no problem,” John said immediately, turning distant and professional. “I totally get it.”

  “Raincheck?” Zoe said.

  John moved past her to retrieve two more wraps and bent down next to Cruz’s back legs. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

  “I was looking forward to it,” Zoe said.

  “You don’t have to feel badly.” John positioned the cotton and started with the wrap. “It’s no big deal.”

  He looked totally and completely focused on his wrapping job, as if he was a Pony Clubber and this was the first time he’d been authorized to wrap his horse himself.

  Zoe tried to think of something else she could say. But what was there to say, really?

  “Okay, thanks for understanding,” she said.

  Zoe came out of the bathroom, wet hair up in a towel, turban-style, and another towel tucked under her arms. She had forgotten her underwear when she’d brought her clothes with her into the bathroom. She leaned over to retrieve them from her bag, feeling the skimpy hotel towel ride up and reveal her upper thigh and even a bit more. She peeked around and caught John looking. He whipped his head back to his iPad and she scampered back into the bathroom, clutching her un
derwear in a tight ball.

  She was in the bathroom for a while longer and when she came out, John picked his eyes up from the iPad again. She had on white capri jeans and a cute top.

  “Would this old friend happen to be a male?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but it’s not like that.” The moment the words were out of her mouth she was kicking herself. Someone might see her out with Morgan and it would get back to John. If there was nothing between her and John, why didn’t she just tell him the truth?

  To change the subject, she said, “What are you doing for dinner?”

  “I think I’m just going to walk around Main Street. Grab something easy. I want to look in a few stores—find something to bring back for Molly.”

  And now he had to go and be all sweet, taking the time to shop for Molly.

  “When are you meeting this old friend?”

  “You can stop saying old friend,” she said.

  “Okay, when are you meeting your friend?” he asked.

  “Soon,” she said.

  In reality, she hadn’t heard anything from Morgan since the text. For all she knew, he’d stand her up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know yet. We’re going to figure that out.”

  John grabbed his wallet and keys. “Okay, well, have fun. I won’t wait up.”

  “Haha,” she said.

  After John had left, the room felt very quiet. An hour passed with no communication from Morgan. Zoe’s stomach growled. She made sure her phone was working. Yup. No missed calls that somehow she didn’t hear come in.

  Reflecting back on his text, he’d said, wanna hang out tonight? He hadn’t said anything about dinner. She’d just kind of assumed as much. He hadn’t even said when he was arriving.

  She went down to the hotel lobby and bought an energy bar and a sad looking apple at the tiny hotel store, brought them up to the room, and ate them while continuing to stare at her phone. She could text or call him. But she didn’t want to seem needy.

  She could text John and see if he’d eaten yet. But that would mean announcing that she’d been stood up. Sitting right where he’d left her when he got back would also mean announcing she’d been stood up so she decided to go wait in her car. But she couldn’t sit in her car in the front of the parking lot because he might see her there too. So she drove around to the back and waited as the sun went down.