“They probably have her pumped full of performance enhancing supplements,” Esther said when we told her what we’d seen.
“That pony needs a chill pill,” Mickey said.
Esther shook her head. “She’ll burn herself out before she even gets to the ring. Don’t worry about it. Pay attention to your own horses please.”
And we did. I mean, we’d made it through a show basically on our own so it was a relief not to have to worry about things like going to get our numbers or making sure we were registered in the right classes. Esther took care of it all.
Since I had time, I decided to braid Bluebird’s mane and tail so I was standing on a step stool with my frozen fingers tangled in thread when Jess stomped down our row of stalls. She was with her twin sister Amber, both girls looped arm in arm.
“I can’t believe they just let any old trash in this place,” she said as she made a point not to look at us. “Their standards sure have slipped. They should make sure people have a certain amount of money before they let them show here.”
“Exactly,” Amber agreed. “I mean they held the Olympic pretrial here one year. It’s such a double standard.”
I suddenly felt sorry that I’d ever been nice to Amber.
“Money doesn’t buy talent,” I called out after them.
“Jerks,” Mickey mumbled from under the pink scarf she had wrapped five times around her head.
“It’s okay,” I said. “They’re just trying to rattle me but it won’t work. Bluebird and I have got this.”
And the thing was that we all did. It turned out to be one of those magical shows where everything went right for a change and everyone was on their game. Even with the cold wind blowing all around us and the flags flapping and snapping above, our horses had somehow managed to peak at the right time. Esther said it was a fluke. That there was no way Helga could have trained us and prepared us and our horses to win when she’d never trained a horse before in her whole life but we all knew better. Helga had been the bomb and the show seemed kind of dull without her hot pants and cowboy boots.
Mickey won her division, actually won the whole thing. The blue ribbon that they pinned on Hampton’s bridle was almost as big as his head.
“I don’t believe it,” she kept saying.
“I don’t believe it either,” Esther said. “What happened to the nervous Mickey who pukes before her class and forgets the course?”
“I think Helga scared her away,” she grinned.
Then Ethan won the junior jumper class on Wendell, walking away with another gigantic blue ribbon and a check for five hundred dollars.
“Sweet,” he said, slapping Wendell on the neck. “Now I can buy that surf board I’ve been wanting.”
Our spirits couldn’t have been higher as we walked back to the stalls but my heart stopped as I realized Bluebird wasn’t there.
“I thought he was safe,” I cried.
“He is, look,” Mickey pointed and everyone started to laugh.
Bluebird obviously decided that he’d had more than enough of the cold wind that was blowing down between the row of stalls. There he was, standing in the empty stall that Esther always booked for him but that we usually ended up using as a tack stall. His lead rope was pulled tight around the corner and he was standing amongst the saddles and bridles, munching on a bale of hay.
“You awful pony,” I laughed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“I guess he’ll go in a stall when he really wants too,” Esther said, pulling out the tack and equipment so that Bluebird wouldn’t hurt himself.
“Can you love a pony too much?” I asked her, hugging his neck to hide the tears that had been pricking in the back of my eyes.
She stopped and looked at us, then smiled.
“The day you stop loving them is the day you end up like Jess,” she said. “And when you start to treat them like a machine, instead of your partner then you know you are in trouble.”
“I’ll never do that,” I said.
“I know you won’t,” she nodded. “Now are you going to win this class or what?”
“We’re going to do our very best,” I said, checking Bluebird’s legs to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself when he wiggled into the stall.
“He okay?” Mickey stuck her head around the corner.
“He’s fine,” I said.
“Good,” she grinned. “Because three big blue champion ribbons would look pretty awesome hung on these stalls.”
“Do you really think it’s possible for all three of us to ace our classes?” I asked her.
“What do you think Helga would say?” Mickey asked.
“You all goodest riders here,” I said in Helga’s broken accent.
“Exactly. Now get your goodest butt out there and win that money.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
It wasn’t about the money. In fact other than needing a blanket for Bluebird and money for his care, it had never been about the money. It was about getting out there and winning. Proving that we were the best and that we belonged.
“You got this?” Esther asked.
“I got this,” I grinned.
We’d taken the warm up jump a couple of times and I could feel that Bluebird was on his game. The sun had broken weakly from behind the clouds and even though it was freezing cold, the sun felt warm on my face. I had a thermal sweater under my shirt and jacket but the cold wind still sliced through it like butter.
As a result of the bitter cold, there weren’t many spectators, just a few diehard fans and the family members of those who were competing, wrapped in blankets with steaming mugs of coffee in their hands. For a moment I felt a twinge of sadness that there was no one there to watch me. Not Mom or Uncle Carl or Dad, wherever he was, but as I saw Mr. Eastford push his way to the rail with a stern look on his face I was suddenly glad. There may have been no one there cheering me on but there was also no one who was going to yell and possibly ground me if I did badly.
“Leg! Leg!” Mr. Eastford shouted as Jess got to the in gate.
By the grace of the horse gods, I was going last. Jess hadn’t been so lucky. She was going first.
“The last thing that pony needs is leg,” Esther whispered as Jess dug her heels into the pony’s sides and Stardust reared straight up.
We were all vying for the Snowball Cup, the prize money and the chance to ride with a show jumping legend. The competition was fierce and this wasn’t the time to play around. The goal of the first round was to go clear. Then, unlike the smaller shows, those clear rounds would compete in a separate jump off. The fastest clear round would win. But the goal of this round was to get around clean and within the time allowed. Someone obviously forgot to give Stardust the memo.
The pony galloped to the first fence like her butt was on fire and rocketed over it with feet to spare. She galloped on to the next, eyes wide and neck stretched out.
“She’s too flat,” Esther said. “She’ll never make that spread.”
And Esther was right. The blue and white poles clattered to the ground as the pony didn’t rock back enough to clear it.
“She’s out of control,” I said.
Stardust refused the next jump, an airy white vertical. She ducked out at the last minute and took off at a flat out gallop around the rail. Jess was sawing the reins back and forth but the pony had gone into orbit. It took five laps around the ring before she finally got her back under control. When she came to a ragged stop she smacked the pony with her crop. Stardust kicked out and then put in a huge buck, depositing Jess into a fresh pile of manure.
“That pony is going to find herself shipped off to the next auction,” I said.
“We can’t save them all,” Esther shook her head, and I knew she was right.
There were three clear rounds, all of them by competent, talented riders. Now I was the only one left.
“Clean and clear,” Esther said. “Don’t rush it. Save the speed for the jump off.”
; “Good luck,” Mickey and Ethan called out in chorus.
But I didn’t need luck. Mickey and Ethan’s wins had given me the confidence I needed. If they could win then so could I.
“Let’s do this boy,” I patted Bluebird on the neck as we entered the ring.
I tried to imagine that this was just a schooling round at home. The jumps weren’t any scarier than the ones Helga had made for us and there were far less twists and turns. Bluebird was steady and supple in my hands and he did everything I asked of him. The one jump that had been giving people trouble, the skinny, airy vertical that was painted white was touch and go when he clipped the top rail but though I heard it rattle, it didn’t fall. We finished clear.
“You made it,” Mickey cried as we came out of the ring.
“To the jump off,” I reminded her.
“Bluebird is the fastest pony here,” Esther said. “You know that he is.”
“You’re right,” I grinned.
So it was down to me and three other girls, each one of them well known on the circuit and each one of them certainly not on five hundred dollar ponies.
“Did you see the cup?” Mickey nudged me and pointed to a table set up by the judges stand.
“It looks kind of gaudy,” I said.
“Okay well when you win it, you can leave it at my house, okay?” she said dreamily.
“Alright,” I said. “As long as you let me hold it every once in a while. Besides, I don’t think my Mom would really want another thing to dust on her mantle.”
I cantered Bluebird over the warm up jump at a gallop, then spun him round and took it from the other side to let him know that safe time was over. Now was the time to let it all out. Then we came back to watch.
The first girl was clear but she played it safe and took it pretty slow. The next girl had a rail down. One left and then me.
“Good luck,” her trainer told her as she went into the ring.
I’d seen her around before but I didn’t know her name. Her pony was a flashy palomino with a creamy mane and tail. She was tight as a tick on the pony’s back and had no problem going clear and fast. She came out of the ring flushed and smiling.
“She thinks she’s got it in the bag,” Mickey said.
“She was fast,” I shook my head.
“You’ll be faster. Faster and clear. Got it?” Esther said.
“Got it,” I nodded.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
As we stepped into the ring, I paused for a moment to take it all in. Everything usually went by so fast but I wanted to take in every second of it. I didn’t know what the future held for me with my mom and Derek and the wedding of doom that I hadn’t been able to stop. But I had this. My riding. My pony. My friends. This was my life and this was what I worked for and I wasn’t about to let anyone down. And suddenly I saw a big fat snowflake land on Bluebird’s mane. It was the Snowball Cup indeed and we were going to win.
“Let’s do this boy,” I said and when I applied my leg, he took off like a chestnut rocket.
We weren’t out of control like Jess and Stardust but we didn’t hold anything back. Our time with Helga had taught us that you had to take the inside turn, make the tricky angle work for you and you had to do it fast. We blazed over the course, taking verticals and spreads and the scary wall that they introduced especially for the jump off.
There was a moment as we galloped flat out to the last jump, where I thought that this was the moment I could muck it all up. I knew my time was fast but faster than the other girl? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I couldn’t afford to check Bluebird. We were going to take the red and white uneven bars at a flat out gallop and fallen rails be damned. You had to take the big risks to win the big prizes.
As he launched into the air, I think I actually closed my eyes for a second. And then we were galloping away and the crowd was cheering. We were clear. But were we fastest?
“You did it!” Mickey cried. “You did it.”
“We were clear,” I said, slithering to the ground.
But this wasn’t Grand Prix show jumping. There was no giant stop watch that lit up the time. We’d have to wait for the judges to announce the winners. They were the ones who held the time and our fate in their hands.
Esther threw a cooler over Bluebird’s steaming back.
“Better walk him out,” she said. “And Emily,” she called after me. “Well done.”
That was high praise from Esther. Very high praise indeed.
“I think you beat me,” the girl with the palomino said.
She was also walking out her pony while we waited for the announcements.
“I’m Becka,” she said. “And this is Topaz.”
“She’s cute,” I said.
“She’s a he,” Becka grinned.
“Oh no, sorry, I couldn’t see what with the cooler and all and she, I mean he, just looks so pretty.”
“I know. I get that a lot. Poor guy,” she patted him on the neck.
“This is Bluebird,” I said. “And I’m Emily. Emily Dickenson.”
“I know who you are,” she said.
My heart sank a little. “You’re not friends with Jess, are you?”
“Ewwww no,” she said. “Like I’d be friends with that wannabe loser.”
We both laughed and I never got a chance to ask her how she knew me because they called us to the ring.
“Guess now we’ll find out who’s the fastest,” she said. “I’d do anything to ride with Miguel Rodriguez. He’s so hot.”
“I know, me too,” I said, even though I was more interested in what he could teach me. Although I couldn’t deny the fact that he was awfully cute.
We all stood in the ring, except for Jess and Stardust who’d been eliminated and subsequently disappeared.
“We have an unusual situation here,” one of the judges said. She was a large, portly lady with a thick brown coat and a funny pointed hat. She looked like she’d be more suited at the library than at a horse show.
“We were so fast, we broke the stopwatch,” Becka said, breaking the tension.
Everyone laughed.
“No,” she said. “We have a tie.”
Becka and I looked at one another. “A tie?” we said.
“Two stopwatches confirmed it. You both completed your round in forty three point two seconds.”
Great. Now what were we supposed to do? Split the cup in two?
“Usually,” the judge continued. “We’d have you both jump off again.”
“Oh no,” Becka said and I had to admit that I felt the same way. Bluebird and I were both exhausted. I didn’t think we had it in us to go round again.
“However,” she continued. “What with the weather taking this horrible turn for the worse, we’ve decided to split the prize money between you.”
“Sounds fine to me,” Becka said.
“Me too,” I nodded. “But what about the clinic?”
My heart was in my throat. All along I’d wanted the money but now all I could think about was riding with a world class show jumper.
“You’ll both get to go,” she said.
“Yes!” Becka cried. She leant over and high fived me and I grinned back. Becka seemed kind of cool.
The judges pinned blue ribbons on both our pony’s bridles and then awarded the others.
“The last girl who rode with Miguel went on to be the Junior Jumper Champion,” Becka looked at me and grinned. “She got all these cool sponsors like Ariat and stuff and rich people bought horses for her to ride. She’s living the dream man. That’ll be us soon.”
And as we took our victory gallop around the ring, Becka and I side by side on Bluebird and Topaz, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. It didn’t matter that Mom was marrying Derek. I had my own stuff. My own life and I was living it. Really living it. There were no regrets or missed chances, only the pony beneath me and the world of opportunities ahead of us.
THE END
COMING SOON
SHOW JUMPING DREAMS BOOK 4: STAR PUPIL
She couldn’t stop the wedding. Emily Dickenson’s mom married scumbag Derek and now she has a new stepdad she doesn’t want and a new stepsister who is coming to stay but luckily Emily won’t be there. She won the Snowball Cup along with Becka Williamson and they will both be attending a three day clinic with renowned show jumping champion Miguel Rodriguez.
But it turns out that money can buy you everything you want. Thanks to her father’s big fat donation, Jess now has a spot in the clinic too and she’s not about to let everyone forget that she has the best horses money can buy. She has a new mount to prove it, straight off the plane from Germany.
So when the girls find out that Jess’s new horse looks exactly like a Grand Prix champion who supposedly died the year before, they can’t help but try and figure out if it’s just a coincidence or if there is something more sinister going on. And with the best rider of the clinic getting a spot on Miguel’s new junior jumper team, they don’t exactly have time to do anything but focus on their riding. Someone is going to be crowned star pupil but does Emily really have what it takes to be a champion?
STAR PUPIL: CHAPTER ONE
“What do you think he’ll be like in person?” Mickey asked dreamily.
“He’ll be just like a guy, a normal guy who rides well and has a stable full of really awesome horses,” I said.
“But what do you think he’s like as a person?” she said.
“As long as he can teach me how to not nearly get smacked in the head every time Bluebird jumps, I don’t really care.”
“I bet he has maids,” she carried on.
“Maids?” I laughed.
Winter Blues (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 3) Page 11