“Good luck, Katie!” Winny cheered our friend. Katie trotted over and gave her a one armed hug, smiling broadly and calmly as if she was going to run a quick errand, not competing in the last phase of an international event. Her calmness radiated and for the first time that morning, I was able to draw a deep breath.
“Thanks,” Katie beamed, “but don’t think I’m not going to whoop you.”
“We’ll be out to do the same,” Winny grinned back, leaning over to pat my shoulder.
“Go get ‘em, Bullet,” I nickered softly.
“Gotta represent the little guys,” he joked. I had to hand it to him—less than sixteen hands high in a competitive world of enormous horses, he hadn’t backed down one bit. He was showing everyone that heart had more to do with a champion than size.
As they disappeared through the gate that led to the main arena, Winny asked me to pick up a trot again. I obeyed and sprung into a steady jog. I kept my attention on Winny, and she on me, to distract each other from the enormous pressure we were about to face. Winny cheered again when Katie and Bullet were recognized by the announcer. The starting buzzer signaled and again, the whole world went silent except for the hollow staccato of a woodpecker drilling on a tree trunk in search of a meal.
I continued to weave around the arena until something caught my eye. I jerked my head up and planted my feet.
“What?” Winny inquired, sounding slightly annoyed.
“Look!” I huffed excitedly. “We can see them on the big screen!”
Not really expecting her to understand me, I tried my best to signal my secret to her. I pawed anxiously at the sand and with my head held high, perked my ears in the direction of the screen. Until now, we’d been blind to how the competition had been going other than hints from the announcer and the occasional rattle of the jumps. With a glimpse of the live broadcast from the stadium ring, it was just the thing I needed to study what we were up against.
“Is something the matter?” Danika called from the sidelines.
“I don’t know,” Winny answered. “She doesn’t seem to want to move. I hope she hasn’t changed her mind,” Winny gave a weak laugh and kicked my sides to elicit forward movement.
Finally, she picked up on my cues and followed my line of sight. “Oh,” she gasped. Standing slightly in the stirrups to get a better view without conspicuously giving away that we’d discovered a little secret, we watched Katie guiding Bullet as he tore through the start flags for the first jump.
It was mesmerizing. I hadn’t gotten a good look at Bullet on the cross country course, but I had seen them as they worked in the warm up. Katie and Bullet were an undeniable match made in heaven. They had the instinctive gift of trust and effective communication on top of their physical prowess and power. His copper coat flashed in the sun as they wove through the course, meeting each of the obstacles with confidence. More than once, they shocked the crowd by rattling the rails, but the entire time, they were in complete control. They were saving valuable seconds by cutting out air time over jumps. As fast as Bullet could get his feet back on the ground, he’d be galloping to the next jump.
“They’re going to give us a run for our money,” Winny whispered. Chaos was going to do the same. Even though Gloria rode heavy-handedly and was frequently unforgiving, Chaos had the form, the speed and, from just watching her the last hour, the passion for jumping.
“Need a drink?” Mike approached with a cold bottle of water in his outstretched hand.
“Sure, thanks,” said Winny absentmindedly, eyes still glued on Katie and Bullet. Twisting the cap off, she tipped her head back for a gulp.
Just then, the sound of Bullet’s hooves colliding with a rail shattered the silence.
“Oh, no!” Winny gasped along with the audience.
“What happened?” Mike asked, getting on his tippy toes to see what new drama had unfolded.
Winny didn’t answer. Katie glanced over her shoulder at the fallen rail, her expression frozen with shock. She reined Bullet in slightly and for the final three jumps and approached with caution and hesitancy. They cleared the rest of the obstacles without trouble and galloped in for the finish.
“Katie Welsh and Speeding Bullet with a time of sixty-four point five seconds and a four fault rail,” the announcer reviewed in his baritone voice.
The crowd chatted eagerly and applauded their effort as they left. A few moments later, Katie appeared on Bullet, the color drained from her face.
“Well done, Katie,” Winny congratulated her.
Almost as if she didn’t hear, Katie unblinkingly recounted their mistake. “I took the jump at too steep an angle. Bullet caught his hind hoof on the spread,” she said. “I blew it.”
“It could’ve happened to anyone,” Mike pointed out.
Winny agreed. “It’s part of the risk of trying to get in a fast round. Besides, Gloria or I could still pull a rail too.”
Katie forced a smile though her eyes were glossy with tears she was holding back. “I hope it doesn’t happen to you then. I’d rather you take first place.”
She ambled off with Bullet for a cool down. There would be an awards ceremony shortly following our round and if nothing else, Katie and Bullet would land in third place and would participate in the victory lap. Still, I could understand her anguish. To be so close to winning it all only to have it come crashing down with one mistake on the final day would be devastating. The fact that everything could change in an instant was part of the thrill of the sport.
“If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t have thought she was your competition,” Mike pointed out.
“No reason to play dirty or be sour about someone else doing well. I can be happy with her performance because it doesn’t affect mine, other than to encourage me to do better,” Winny explained. Her unselfish outlook struck a chord.
It was just Gloria and Winny left backstage and we’d been staying as far away as possible from each other. I couldn’t restrain a bitter laugh when Gloria had first shown up that morning. First, she was shocked to see us circling with the competition. I imagine she thought my stall was empty because her maniacal plan had worked and I’d been withdrawn and sent to the emergency clinic. Instead, finding Winny and me still in the competition, her expression morphed from surprise to bitter hatred. She’d have to beat us in actual competition, and if I read her right, she wasn’t sure she’d be able.
We were given a few extra minutes before Gloria started while a few of the show attendants and the technical delegate raced into the stadium to reset some plants, set the jump that Bullet had pulled down and rake out a few deep gouges in the sand before giving the judge the thumbs up that the course was ready.
Gloria sat proudly on Chaos’ back, her eyes their typical cold, stony and focused. I coveted the red jacket she wore with the American flag embroidered on the chest. She’d represented the United States at the last Olympics and was afforded the honor of wearing red. That’s going to be me. As they were given the go ahead to enter the arena, her gaze flicked to me and Winny as she passed.
“Best of luck,” Winny said coldly. Gloria answered nothing and sent Chaos into a canter. They disappeared into the towering arena.
“Up next is Gloria Reed on Chaos,” the announcer blared over the loudspeaker. We circled back to the spot where we could see the jumbo screen. The energy in Chaos’ canter had picked up as they traveled around the arena, ready for the prospect of jumping.
I don’t think I breathed as I watched them have their go. Chaos’ technique was perfect and as I’d guessed, she was an astute and capable jumper. Over every single obstacle, she arched through the air, her lip ever so slightly pulling forward, her silken tail held high and flowing behind her. Unlike Bullet, who risked rails in exchange for speed, Chaos flew close to the jumps but tucked her legs so tightly that her hooves didn’t have a chance to touch them.
Gloria’s eyes were hard and focused as they rode. As much as I l
oathed her, she was a technically skilled rider when she wasn’t being overbearing and wrestling unfairly for control. She probably could’ve put Chaos on autopilot but instead, rode smartly and boldly. I doubt she would ever let Chaos live down a mistake, whether it was her fault or not.
It was no surprise that they crossed the finish line leaving every jump untouched and a full three seconds under optimum time. I gulped back my apprehension while Winny smirked devilishly, excited for the challenge we were about to meet.
Chaos huffed as she walked briskly past us. Gloria looked down her nose at us with a sneer. “No snide remark this time, hmm?”
Winny smiled pleasantly. “Your jumping is much better than your dressage,” she answered honestly.
Gloria’s mouth gaped and she didn’t know whether to be offended or take it as a compliment. She kicked Chaos to where Skylar stood with a towel, a bottle of water and a hefty box of grooming supplies. Gloria leaped from the saddle and wretched the water away, throwing the reins at her groom.
Winny’s smile screwed into disgust. “I really don’t like that woman,” she confessed to no one in particular.
“I don’t think a lot of people do,” Mike answered. “I’m kinda surprised she snagged Chuck.”
“Men are so easily fooled,” Winny pinched his dimpled cheek to which Mike laughed.
The announcer informed the crowd that we were the final pair to jump which was received with rowdy applause. Gloria and Chaos had set an impressive precedent that would require we ride almost impossibly fast. It was daunting but Winny made it more than clear that we were going risk it all and meet the challenge head on.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Nadia Wells!” called the show attendant. My heart pumped like a freight train. The inevitable was almost upon us.
“Nadia, come here,” Ms. Diederich called softly. I turned to her before Winny heard. When Ms. Diederich called, it was best to listen the first time.
“Yes, ma’am?” Winny politely called as she posted in the saddle, following the even tempo of my long-gaited trot to where Ms. Diederich stood behind the rail.
“You are ready,” she said. In her typical way, when it was something important, it wasn’t a request or a suggestion, it was a firm, unquestionable command.
“Yes,” Winny nodded. “It’s been a long road to get to be ready for this.”
“The road to the Regalia should be long and difficult and fraught with challenges. In many ways, you have had the advantage of disadvantage. You were not handed everything since birth and thus, it has meant more to you when Winny did arrive. It is that difficulty that requires sacrifice and hard work, which in turn makes the victory that much sweeter.”
Winny mutely agreed.
“Now, you are poised to win the entire show and it is not by mere luck. You have talent that has been harnessed and for one more phase, needs to be focused. No rushing, but do not dawdle. Jump clean in this round, and we shall see if you cannot outdo Gloria. This is your last chance.”
The steward marched through the sand to us. “Ms. Wells? You’re up.”
Winny mumbled a thank you to him and to Ms. Diederich. She brought us along the rail for a motherly pat and an encouraging word from Danika. She accepted a one-armed hug and a tender kiss from Mike that made my heart ache. He was so close, but to me, he was untouchable. Gretchen, Madeline and Pete shouted rowdy encouragements. With a deep breath, Winny straightened her spine, took contact on the reins and pushed me into a canter through the open gate and into the massive arena.
The shutter of cameras clicked furiously, all lenses focused on us, but Winny kept her eyes locked on the course, serious and unsmiling. I took a chance to survey the obstacles we passed, taking note of their numbers and trying in vain to construct the course in my mind. I swallowed the lump in my throat again as I looked at them in detail. Some appeared to have clawed fingers that would reach out to grab a horse, some had patterns painted on them that made it hard for me to judge the size and others were plain enormous. It’s all in your head, I coached myself. Just rails and plants and paint.
Winny took advantage of the time and showed me as many of the jumps as she could while we waited for the judge to signal permission to begin. Though several people sat in the gazebo, it was apparent who was the head judge. He wore country club attire, a large ribbon on his breast pocket and an air of confidence that let everyone know he was in charge. He looked me over with discernment and mumbled a few comments to those seated with him, then nodded.
“Ready?” Winny whispered and scratched a finger along the roots of my mane.
“Ready as ever,” I responded, giving a heaving sigh to let her know I was relaxed even though my stomach was in my throat.
The judge stood and straightened his coat before leaning over to press the buzzer. As it sounded, he politely removed his hat and waited for us to acknowledge. Winny pressed her legs into my side and circled me around to face him. With a curt nod from Winny, the judge bowed his head and returned his hat to his auburn hair.
A hush fell over the crowd. Suddenly, a high-pitched scream penetrated the silence. “Go, Nadia!” It was my mother again. I couldn’t pin where she was sitting. Dad must’ve managed to keep her seated this time.
Winny snorted a short laugh. My nostrils burned with embarrassment, but to Winny, it was just the thing to ease the tension. After she laughed, her entire body relaxed and so did mine.
“Here we go,” Winny said breathlessly. She used her spurs to prick me into a lively canter and I listened willingly. We curved our way through the jumps and found ourselves lined up with the starting flags.
The beginning of the show jumping phase was a lot like cross country. The first jump or two seemed to be straightforward and simple to build confidence. I always thought it might be to lure riders into a false sense of security too. There were bound to be long and short strides, tight turns, uneven lines and all sorts of technical challenges to test not only the horse’s athletic ability but the rider’s control after the grueling cross country the day before. Jumping in the stadium was always about precision and speed. If a rider ever stopped paying attention, a rail was sure to end up on the ground.
I charged at the first obstacle only to be slowed down by Winny’s decisive aids. “Easy does it.”
I flagged my tail, anxious and excited but obeyed her direction. Counting down the strides, I found the perfect distance in front of a candy cane striped plank. Gathering my feet beneath me, I sprang up and over, easily clearing it. Winny pushed me to the left and guided me to the second jump, a high vertical with a visually confusing fan of poles situated underneath it.
They don’t waste much time getting to the hard stuff, do they? Winny channeled me into a straight line with the jump and I relished her control of the situation without being overbearing. When I flexed my joints and pushed off from the coarse sand, she gave me free rein and I tucked my legs so tight that I could feel my shoes pressing into my chest. Despite it being tall, we cleared it by half a foot. It felt like we were defying gravity as we soared.
Winny chortled into my ear after we thumped to the ground, “You could be a show jumper if you keep leaping that high. But seriously, quit wasting valuable time in the air!”
I agreed. With a little over a minute to complete the course, spending hang time in the air over a jump would make great for great photos, but would cut into the precious time we had to move between obstacles. Winny kept my strides energetic and long. It felt good to cover ground, but at the same time, it was different than the full-on gallop of cross country. It had to be controlled. There were too many turns and collecting before jumps to recklessly charge forward.
Jump three was the first combination. At first glance, it was an unpretentious set but as we made a tight right and lined up with it, the colors and patterns of the two jumps made them appear to mesh into one.
My head snapped up and I pricked my ears at the jumps, trying to make sen
se of them with my equine vision. Try as I might, they continued to be inseparable.
“What is it?” Winny hissed. She stole a glance and me and looked back to the jumps. In a moment, she had it worked out. “They look the same, don’t they? Don’t worry about it. Just jump when I tell you to. Three short slides in between, then jump again.”
I blinked a few times more to try and get my bearings but it made no difference. I hope you know what you’re doing. I tried not to hesitate but I could feel my back hollow out and my steps become choppy. Winny kept light in the saddle and urged me on.
I was relieved I’d judged the height well enough and didn’t rattle the poles. Three short strides, then jump again, I repeated what Winny had said.
With my feet under me, I moved forward. One, two, three, I counted but still, Winny didn’t give me the signal to jump. I fit another panicked stride in.
“Now!” Winny shrieked and pinched me with her spurs. I propelled myself almost vertically over the confusing jump. The audience collectively sucked in a breath and held it as we were almost suspended in the air. Time stood still as we sored. When we reached the peak of our ascent, I stretched my legs out as far as I could to try to clear the jump but I felt the scrape of my hooves on the top rail.
I pinched my eyes shut as the rail swayed in the cups.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Winny gritted her teeth and rebuked me firmly, “I said three short strides, not four choppy ones!” Without bothering to see what the rail did, she hurried us along.
I couldn’t help myself and swiveled my ears behind me. I could hear the rail rocking in the shallow, unforgiving jump cups, but eventually, the pole settled back into its place. It was always a good sign when the crowd didn’t release their baited breath in a dramatic groan. We were inserting the kind of drama horse people loved the most without the consequence of a fallen rail.
Road to the Regalia (Nadia and Winny Book 2) Page 17