“Right,” Winny grumbled. “Of all the spots, we had to stop here,” she exhaled loudly. “How do I stop this darn timer?” She pushed chirping buttons on her oversized watch until she gave an exasperated, “There!”
Though Chuck wasn’t allowed to speak to me for fear of strapping me with a penalty for coaching while on course, Boy didn’t hesitate. He spoke slow and steady, like Chuck, and was full of pleasant conversation.
“You were really flying,” he complimented us. “Most everyone else was pretty scared by that log. About one in every three horses ran out on it.”
I could see why. I glanced over at it and felt a tingling shudder ripple through my spine. I couldn’t see over the other side and it looked like the twisted roots were going to grab me if I got too close.
“You’re pretty quick yourself,” I complimented.
“I’m good for a sprint but never was any good for a long run. Not often I get to put my rodeo skills to good use chasing down other horses though.”
Chuck’s radio started talking, reporting the condition of the fallen competitor. From the garbled conversation, I gathered it would be a few moments before we could start again. She was having to be taken away on a stretcher though her Palomino was lucky to be unharmed.
Winny pointed me away from the jump and we trotted wide circles to keep warm, grateful for the rare chance to catch our breath while equally frustrated at our stopping point. It felt like all the tension and stress was building up in my muscles and unless we were allowed to go, I might explode.
“You’re doing awesome,” a freckly girl yelled from the crowd. Her sincere compliment and admiration were enough to renew my determination. We could do this. We’d already gotten this far.
A few moments later, the judge blew a whistle and gave us permission to continue. Chuck tipped his hat in a gesture of good luck and Winny nodded in return. We circled one more time, turning sharply at the head, where Winny dug in her spurs. I launched forward and my hooves pounded the ground as we gained speed towards the obstacle.
The jump grew more massive with each successive stride, and my insides leapfrogged in anticipation. At the point of no return, where all horses lose sight of what’s closely in front of them, I pinched my eyes shut and rocketed over. I could feel my belly sliding over the wood and was silently thankful that Kally had greased the front of my hind legs. It did its job, allowing me to slide right over.
The landing was a few feet below the takeoff point but Winny had remembered the steep drop, adjusting herself accordingly. Another cheer from the crowd and I breathed a sigh of relief. The monster was behind us.
Another few jumps under our belt and we’d found our groove again. I tried to keep any hopeful thoughts of Olympic grandeur out of my head just yet. We still had a big fight ahead of us and it would be more than a miracle if we made it through, clinging to a top ten spot.
At the Normandy bank, I spotted Mike, hands shoved in his pockets, bouncing nervously up and down on his toes. Pete and Gretchen stood nearby, Gretchen still sulking and my brother, unaware as he held her hand and fumbled with a stalk of grass between his lips.
Mike saw us coming about the same time I spotted him. “Here they are!” he pointed Pete and Gretchen in our direction. I caught a whiff of Mike’s cologne and felt a familiar calm come over me. In our relationship, I was the unpredictable, volatile element while Mike was rarely anything but calm and collected. Just being near him was reassuring.
Winny was too focused to notice anything but the bank and jump atop a lump of a hill. She underestimated how I’d power up the hill and fell back into the seat of the saddle as I charged upward.
“Whoa,” she gasped, yanking hard on my reins and grabbing a wad of mane to stabilize herself. Gretchen caught her mistake and tipped her head back in a peal of laughter. I popped over the jump at the crest, and we were on our way down toward the second water combination.
Behind me, Mike yelled encouragingly and took off sprinting to meet us again later in the course. Pete whistled shrilly and Gretchen clapped, continuing to howl with laughter at our debacle.
The audience at the second pond was packed tight. Eventing enthusiasts mulled about, directed by dozens of volunteers who watched vigilantly for anyone crossing where they weren’t allowed.
“We’re almost done,” Winny encouraged me. “Eight jumps total left between us and the finish line.”
I couldn’t help but worry about our time. It felt like we were pacing ourselves well but after being stopped by Chuck and Winny being unable to figure out the watch, there was really no telling where we stood. Focus on a clear round, I reminded myself. We can recover from a few time faults. Still, my stomach felt sour. This was all a game of seconds and fractions of points and being at the top of the competitors, everyone else was hot on our heels.
Winny rode wide to the first hedge into the water. I jumped it and winced when the cold water splashed me—this time it chilled me to the bone.
I caught sight of Ms. Diederich’s halo of white hair. Mike had pushed his way through the crowd and cleared a spot for her and Danika at the water’s edge. Both my trainers watched with the same intent expression and I had the unmistakable desire not to disappoint them.
Before clearing a large, coiling snake at the center of the pond, I lost my footing and slipped ever so slightly, forcing me to jump before the optimum distance. I clipped my toes on the wood, eliciting a groan from the bystanders. Winny bent in half and threw the reins up my neck, her chin practically digging into the crest of my mane. My effort was long and sloppy instead of the tight, beautifully scoped jumps Winny and I had worked on for ages but it got the job done. I scrambled up the bank and cleared a wavy brush on the way out.
We were drawing nearer to the end and I was as eager as anyone to get there. We razed over a section of course where the perfumed smell of trampled grass filled each breath. I pounced over a thick wooden oxer and turned for home.
Relief washed over me when I spotted the finish. We really might pull this off. Winny half-halted me for our jump down into the sunken road. The course designer either had a devilish sense of humor or liked to torment horses and psych out riders. Most horses would think twice about jumping down into a narrow, coffin-like path so they’d built an alternate jumping pattern. Sure, it was safer and less intimidating but it cost precious time and energy.
Up and over we went into the claustrophobic drop. For a second, it seemed like we’d plunged into total darkness while my eyes adjusted to the shadow. Galloping up the slope, the sun glared and blinded me again. I blinked, clearing my vision just in time for an offset crisscrossed hedge made of cedar.
“Two more!” Winny cheered. A burst of adrenaline coursed through my veins and pushed me onward.
The last two jumps were honest and easy, a reward for finishing such a tough course. I took them at a full-on gallop and after planting my hooves over the final coop, it was only a few hearty strides to the finish.
“We did it!” Winny screamed, releasing her grasp on the reins and throwing her arms out like spread eagle’s wings. I slowed to a trot, then a brisk walk, huffing as fast as my lungs could draw air.
“What was our time?” Winny suddenly remembered our predicament, looking around for someone official.
A volunteer looked up to Winny’s vest. “Number one-ten?” she said, running a pencil down her clipboard. “Congratulations. Your unofficial time was eleven minutes, twenty seconds. A full five seconds under the optimum time.”
Chapter Nineteen
A whooping scream of joy escaped Winny. “Yes!” she wildly fist pumped the air.
We were soon joined by Mike, who pulled Winny off my back and planted a heated kiss on the lips that made her face light on fire. Everything afterward was a flurry of activity. I was led to Dr. Herriot who listened to my heart and lungs, then checked for lameness before clearing me for the final stage. Kally stripped off my saddle and steam curled off my back b
efore slopping a cool sponge on my neck, chest and back. Ms. Diederich and Danika worked without speaking much but by the few words they did say, they were pleased with our effort. It wasn’t perfect, but I was over the moon that we’d pulled it off.
Winny sounded like she was stuck on auto play as she thanked all who congratulated her. We mulled slowly back to the competitor’s area where she stopped to watch the horse and rider teams that were getting ready to head out on the course. Gloria and Chaos were among them.
I tapped Winny gently on the shoulder and tried to be encouraging, even though I knew my words would be lost. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll see where everyone stands tomorrow.”
Winny said nothing. As Chaos and Gloria slowly cantered by, Winny retreated, taking a step back. Gloria’s eyes flitted to Winny and the smallest smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth.
I had nothing against Chaos and blurted out, “Good luck.”
Her ears flicked toward me and she watched me with her gentle doe eyes. Shyly, she answered, “Thanks.”
Kally scraped the excess water and sweat from me before draping a cooling sheet over my back. After everyone and everything was gathered, we ambled back to the barn, tired but overjoyed that two of the three phases were finished successfully, a challenge that every rider hoped for. We’d gotten plenty of experience under our belt at the three-star level and it had proven vital as we’d reached the pinnacle of our riding career and taken the plunge into the four-star level. The fact that we were a disembodied horse and rider team in the running to place at the top, if not win? Incredible.
Fans called at Winny from behind the tethered line, begging for a photo or autograph. Winny looked shyly at Mike, murmuring something about hating the spotlight.
You and me both, I snorted.
“You picked the wrong profession then,” he chuckled and gave her an encouraging shove towards the cluster of people waiting eagerly to meet their favorite rider while he stood back, clutching my braided reins.
After a few minutes of posing and smiling, someone handed over a permanent marker and a program, asking for her to sign. Winny hesitated, eventually grabbing the marker and awkwardly scribbling over the entire paper. Winny handed the girl back her booklet and excused herself, marching briskly back to Mike and me.
The girl flipped it opened and her beaming smile faded to confusion. Winny looked over her shoulder to the twiggy blond girl and back to me, shrugging and mouthing, “I don’t know how to write.” I imagine the girl was disappointed that instead of a neatly scrawled Nadia Wells, she got a clunky black line next to our photo.
Most of the excitement of the day was left behind at the course. Half the horses had already run, and the other half were out of the barn, waiting their turn. All who were already back were too tired to make much conversation.
“How’d you do?” Isis asked, cracking one sleepy eye open as I clomped by.
“Really well. Other than a very determined dog and being stopped on the course for an accident from the rider ahead of me, Winny handled it like a pro. I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Same here,” Isis yawned.
“How’s Gretchen?”
Isis’ eyes opened more widely. “Upset. But she’ll be alright. I feel awful about the run-out we had at the sunken road combo but I was afraid if I went, she’d fall off. She wasn’t balanced for it.”
“She’d understand,” I agreed.
Isis sighed, “I hope so. I hate feeling like I let her down.”
Kally stacked tack in our room and pulled out my grooming tote. “She’d be grateful. And it wasn’t your fault. Mike got his hands on the stirrup leather and it’s obvious someone cut it. There’s someone who’s trying to sabotage their competition, just as I thought.”
“Any idea who?”
“Not really. I don’t have any definite evidence other than her scent. And even if I did, there’s the language barrier. I’m just hoping they get caught before someone’s seriously hurt.”
“Like Belle?” Isis reminded me of the leggy thoroughbred who’d gone home a few days ago after recovering from her severe case of colic enough to travel.
“Yeah. I’m glad she’s okay. Obviously, whoever it is seems to be more than willing to go pretty far to eliminate potential threats.” Suddenly I had the chills and shuddered.
“Better get you to a bath and back under a cooling sheet,” Kally said, swinging open my door. “Off we go for a wash.”
Mike and Winny strolled in with a bag smelling of cumin, onion and beef, shortly after we’d returned from the wash stall, reminding me how hungry I was. Noises gurgled from my stomach as Kally put me in the crossties to towel dry my legs and securely wrap them in supportive bandages. “I’ll feed you in a second,” she said intuitively.
“What’d you want to do with this stirrup leather? I haven’t had a chance to show Gretchen yet,” Mike said.
“You have it still?” Winny asked through a mouthful of hard shelled taco.
Mike half-stood from his seat and pulled it out from his back pocket. “Never let it out of my sight.”
Winny sat silent for a minute, thoughtful about the next step. She had been the one to first notice something awry the night of the gala and still suspected someone was not playing fair. It was a delicate game, she learned after our confrontation with Carlos, accusing other competitors of heinous acts in order to secure a win. Even so, there was no doubt about it now and the cheating had to be addressed.
“We need to talk to Carlos. Maybe if Ms. Diederich and Danika were here, it’d help. Gretchen needs to know too. She shouldn’t be beating herself up about not checking her tack. No one would’ve caught a small cut like that.”
“Hey,” Madeline strutted into the barn, her arms wrapped around her slender waist. “Have you seen Gretchen? She has my jacket and I’m getting a little chilly.” By the bluish tint on her skin and the rough goosebumps up and down her arms, Madeline was understating chilly.
“Not since I was on course,” Winny smiled. “I’m guessing they’re probably still watching the other riders.”
Kally interjected, “Check her tack room. She might have a sweatshirt or something you can wear.”
“Thanks,” Madeline skipped over to Isis’ tack room, letting the door swing shut behind her.
Through the bars, I saw Skylar lead a worn-out Chaos into her stall, quietly sliding the door shut. No one else acknowledged their entrance, either too tired or lost in thought to notice. Finally finished with my post-cross country cool down, Kally put me away and scooted over to recheck Isis.
“I’ll go find Ms. Diederich and Danika. Will you call Gretchen and have her meet us here? I’ll have Danika invite Carlos too so we can show him what we’ve found. Stunts like this are dangerous and it has to stop,” Winny proclaimed.
“I’ll go with you,” Mike offered but Winny refused.
“Stay here. You can be here when everyone arrives. Keep an eye on things, too. The more vigilant we can be, the better.”
Winny jogged out of the barn towards where we’d left Danika and Ms. Diederich on the course. Mike peered into Isis’ stall, offering help to Kally who asked him to throw me some hay. He obliged and tossed a bale in front of my stall as easily as if it were packaged feathers. Cutting the twine, he separated several flakes, shooting them expertly into my feeder. I chewed gratefully.
“I’m going to grab another bag of feed from the trailer,” Kally said, pressing her hands into the small of her back and stretching. “Be right back.”
“Want me to get it?” Mike asked. He was so genteel.
“Nah,” Kally waved her hand. “I don’t want anyone thinking I’m not pulling my weight.” She drug herself down the aisle and toward the row of impressively large and expensive trailers.
Closing the door behind him and clapping away the loose stems of dried grass, Mike didn’t notice Skylar sneak up behind him. Thinking they were alone, she made her move.
> “Hey,” she crooned.
Mike looked over his shoulder and gave her an off-centered smirk. “Hey, Skylar.”
“Saw Nadia’s run today. Not completely horrible.”
Mike snorted. “I’ll be sure to pass on the compliment.”
“No need,” she shrugged. “I’m sure she has enough fans to flatter her ego.” She paused momentarily before simpering innocently and adding, “She seems to think a lot of Harvey’s opinion.”
“I think Harvey thinks a lot of Harvey’s opinion.”
“He has cause. He’s quite talented, you know.” Mike looked down at his hands and nodded placidly. “Everyone else might be smitten with him, but I’ve still got my eye on you.”
Mike looked up just in time to see Skylar pressing in for a kiss.
Chapter Twenty
Mike immediately jerked back, banging his head on the bars of my stalls. The resonating trill of vibrating metal was dampened by his head as Skylar leaned in. I lunged forward, teeth bared and ears flattened against my skull but she took no notice. Her eyes were closed, enjoying the moment.
Madeline stepped out of the tack room, pulling a Rolex Three Day Event sweatshirt over her head and said, “I found a—”
She didn’t finish. Her gaze landed on Mike and Skylar, catching sight of them for only a moment before her eyes bulged and her jaw slackened. She scurried out of the barn, either embarrassed, angry or disgusted—probably a mixture of all—with Mike’s display of affection with someone other than his girlfriend.
Though it seemed an eternity that Skylar trapped him in a kiss, it was in reality only a moment before Mike ducked and spun out of the way. He panted slightly, facing me, a look of panic on his face. He clenched his jaw and demanded, “What are you doing, Skylar? You know I’m with Nadia.”
Road to the Regalia (Nadia and Winny Book 2) Page 13