Richard followed me. “Time to watch you jump. I promised the Howards a firsthand report before they come see for themselves.”
“Maybe next week, Richard.” I hooked Beauty in the cross-ties and starting brushing her.
“Next week?” Richard frowned at his sister, then at me. “Next week’s too late. The Howards flew in this morning. They want to see their horse jump tomorrow. Didn’t Summer tell you?”
Summer shrugged. “Oops! Didn’t I tell you the Howards were coming back early, Winnie? Honeymoon hurricanes in the Caribbean. I had Richard tell them to meet us here tomorrow afternoon, since I—we—have that debate tomorrow night.”
My hands trembled. I slid my arm around Beauty’s neck. Trusting, she turned to me, her fate in my hands.
“We really need to see her high jump.” Richard sounded impatient. “You’re using that hedge out there, right?”
“Right.” My voice sounded hoarse.
Catman strolled into the barn and walked up to Beauty. He straightened her forelock. I knew he’d heard everything.
Richard glanced at his watch. “I need to call Jeffrey Howard pretty soon.”
I unhooked Beauty from the cross-ties. “Guess I better saddle up then.”
Richard and Summer headed back out to the paddock.
Catman helped me saddle Bold Beauty in silence. He handed me the girth under her belly, put the reins over her neck, held her while I mounted.
The mental photo of my fall flashed through my head. Go away! I’m Winnie the Horse Gentler! I can do this!
I trotted Beauty in a loose circle around the jumps. Sensing her rhythm, I posted, bobbing up and down in the saddle, moving to a rising trot like Adrianna had. I relaxed as Beauty shifted into a canter, her long legs reaching out, eager to jump.
I guided her to the ground poles that started my jumping course. Stride . . . stride . . . stride . . . jump. No problem. Next came the crossed poles, the low jumps. We sailed over with perfect clearance.
Why had I put this off so long? Beauty and I were born to jump!
I glanced back at Richard and Summer and saw Dad and Lizzy leaning over the fence with Catman.
“The high jump, Winnie!” Summer yelled.
Watch this, Summer! I took Beauty around to repeat the course. But this time I rested the reins on her neck, while I stretched my arms out from my sides like airplane wings. Mom had taught me to jump without hands to make sure I’d grip with my legs. Beauty took the low jumps, and I sat tight, my arms still out.
“Yea, Winnie!” Lizzy yelled.
I looped again, making a figure eight, taking the parallel mid-jumps at the diagonal crosses without a flaw.
Lizzy cheered.
“Could you speed it up, Winnie?” Richard shouted.
I knew what he was waiting for. Lizzy might have been impressed, but Richard and Summer knew better. They’d come to see the high jump. Nothing else mattered.
The hedge made up the last jump in the course, rising from the top of my imaginary figure eight. I couldn’t put it off any longer.
Beauty sensed what was coming as I started the course over. We took the low jumps, picked up speed in the middle, and galloped for the hedge.
Throw your heart over the fence, and your horse will follow. I said it over and over in my mind. The hedge grew taller with every stride as we drew closer. Four more strides. Three. Tighten stride.
Or should she lengthen stride? I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure. And Beauty could feel it. She slowed, then sped up. She’d never make it over.
At the last second, I pulled hard to the left, jerking her away from the hedge. She tossed her head and obeyed, still in a canter, circling away, the hedge behind us now.
I’d refused the jump. Not her. She hadn’t balked or stalled. I’d pulled out of the jump. I swallowed the lump in my throat as we trotted up to the barn.
Lizzy balanced herself on the top rung of fence. “That was so tight, Winnie! Aren’t you going to jump the hedge?” she asked in pure innocence, as if I’d forgotten one jump by mistake.
Summer let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, Winnie. Aren’t you going to jump the hedge?”
I didn’t answer. I kept my head down as I led Beauty past Dad and into the barn.
Richard trailed after me, with Summer at his side. “That’s what we needed to see. Thanks, Winnie.”
I snapped Beauty into the cross-ties. I couldn’t look her in the eyes.
Lizzy, Dad, and Catman walked up. Lizzy still looked puzzled. “Why didn’t Winnie jump the hedge?”
Catman whispered something to her, and her expression changed. She shot me a look of pure pity, which hurt worse than anything she could have said.
I glared at Catman, knowing he’d told her I’d chickened out.
“We’ll see you in the house, Winnie,” Dad said, herding Lizzy and Catman out of the barn.
I kept brushing Beauty, trying not to think about what I’d done. What I’d not done. I thought Spidells had left until I heard Richard’s voice outside the barn.
“Glad I caught you! I’m at the Willis place.” He was talking on the cell phone. “No, Winnie hasn’t had any more luck with this horse than we did.” He chuckled. “She’s a good kid all right. And very talented too, when it comes to ordinary horses. . . . Wait ’til you see the hunter I’ve found for you. More money, but can he jump!”
He paused. My ears buzzed. I couldn’t breathe.
Richard chuckled. “Your wife will come around. Tell her not to worry about the mare. I’ve made some calls to a camp in Columbus. . . . I agree. Poor Winnie did her best, but she couldn’t handle the high jump. . . . Sure! Tomorrow afternoon, right here. I’ll bring the trailer. Glad I could help.”
Summer honked, and I listened to the gravel crunch as Richard ran to his car.
I hung out in the barn, saddle-soaping tack, scrubbing the soft soap into saddles and bridles until they foamed clean and shiny. Anything so I didn’t have to talk to humans.
It was dark when Lizzy came looking for me. “You okay?”
“I’m fine!” I insisted, pushing past her and outside, where stars winked at each other.
“It’s okay to lose your confidence, Winnie. Everybody—”
I wheeled on her. “Who said I lost my con- fidence? Catman? Well, I didn’t!” I stormed toward the house. Lucky for Catman, I didn’t see him anywhere.
Lizzy dogged me. “You should have told Dad and me!”
“There’s nothing to tell!” I screamed, making it to the front steps.
“Winnie?” Dad shouted from the shed.
I pretended not to hear.
I ran to the bedroom, slammed the door, kicked off my boots, slipped into my pj’s, and dove into bed. I hadn’t lost my confidence! That was ridiculous.
A long time later I heard Lizzy come in. I pretended to be asleep as she got ready for bed and clicked on her reading light.
A knock came at the door.
“Come on in, Dad!” Lizzy called.
I didn’t budge. The door opened, and footsteps crossed to my bed. I squeezed my eyes shut. The footsteps moved to Lizzy’s side of the room.
“Night, Lizzy,” Dad whispered.
“Night, Dad.” Then Lizzy slipped into praying: “God, thanks for being Immanuel. Help Winnie turn around and see that you’re in that boat with her.”
I knew she was talking about what Ralph had said in church, about Peter and the other fishermen and the storm, and Jesus sleeping in the boat. But I didn’t care. All that mattered was Bold Beauty. I’d let her down. And tomorrow she’d be gone forever.
Dad left, and Lizzy read for a few minutes before turning off the light. Within seconds I heard the Lizzy-snore I’d known my whole life.
I sat up in bed. The full moon shined a spotlight through the window. White streams of light washed the pasture. I could see the outline of the hedge. In a few hours Bold Beauty would be taken away to a place where no one would think of her as a hunter. She’d be condemned to ride
in circles, tugged on by riders who didn’t love her like I did or like Adrianna would.
Unless . . .
I stared out at the hedge moving in the wind like a living thing. Why can’t you psych yourself into this, Winnie?
Maybe I’d pulled Beauty up because Summer and Richard made me nervous. If I could jump when nobody was around . . .
Why not? There was absolutely no reason Beauty and I couldn’t clear that jump. And if I could get her over the hedge one time, then I could show Adrianna. It wouldn’t be too late!
I could do it! I had to.
I pulled jeans over my pj’s and boots over my bare feet and slipped outside. Dew drenched the fallen leaves and lurked in the cold, damp air. I moved through the barn as if in a dream, saddling and bridling Bold Beauty while Nickers and Towaco looked on.
Before I could stop myself, I mounted Beauty and guided her to the jumps. I knew every inch of the pasture. The ground shimmered in painted moonlight. I could do this. Of course I could.
Beauty and I cantered. An owl hooted. Crickets chirped louder and louder, in waves. We took the low jumps, the middle jumps. She picked up her pace as we galloped for the hedge. Faster and faster. No turning back. “We can do this, Beauty!”
But it was a lie. I could lie to my family. I could lie to myself. But I couldn’t lie to Bold Beauty. Doubts and fear traveled through my skin to my fingers, through the reins, to the bit, where Beauty swallowed them. She hesitated.
Throw your heart over!
But hers wouldn’t go, and neither would mine. Our hearts were wound together liked trapped insects in a spider’s web.
She stopped short in front of the hedge. I slid off, landing on my feet, and then collapsed to the ground, not sure if I’d fallen or given up.
“Winnie!” Catman came running up. “Man, I told Claire and Bart you’d freak out tonight! They gave me the go-ahead to spy. I knew you’d try something like this no matter how scared you were!”
I opened my mouth to deny being scared. But the lies had drained out of me, leaving me with nothing. I buried my head in my hands. Tears flowed with noisy sobs that wracked my whole body.
When I could get my breath again, I gazed up at Catman. “What’s wrong with me? I’m afraid of that stupid hedge!”
Catman took off his glasses and shoved them into his pocket. “Finally.”
“Finally what?” I yelled.
“Finally you can admit it. That’s cool.”
The fake confidence I’d tried to hold on to slipped away. Something would have to replace it. But for now, it was enough to break out of the web with the truth. I’d been afraid to jump that hedge.
Catman took off Beauty’s saddle and bridle. Beauty went back to grazing with Towaco and Nickers, and Catman walked me to the door.
“Thanks, Catman.” It didn’t seem like much to say.
He held up thumb and pinkie in the Hawaiian hang-loose sign and disappeared into the night.
I crawled into bed and talked to God. Sorry about the stupid lies, God. You don’t deserve that. Please forgive me. I’m done with lies and fake confi- dence. I’m out of ideas on how to save Beauty or get over that hedge by tomorrow. But I know you’re in the boat with me. So thanks.
I felt a hundred times better as I crawled under the quilt, even though I knew there was still a piece missing, something I wasn’t getting. No way did I want to psyche up a false confidence again. But if I wanted to save Beauty, wouldn’t I need some kind of confidence? I tried to figure it out as sleep pressed against my eyeballs.
I’d almost drifted into sleep when I remembered the debate. And God, would you cover for me in that debate, too? Amen.
Saturday morning I woke up from the best night’s sleep I’d had in days. I had no idea how things would turn out—with the Howards or the debate. But I knew I wasn’t in it alone.
I couldn’t wait to tell Lizzy how sorry I was for shutting her out and lying to her about everything. But she’d already left on a lizard hunt. I showered, dressed, and ran outside to find Dad.
He was speed-rocking in his latest invention, but the little fan at the top barely turned.
“Dad!” I shouted.
The rocking slowed, then stopped. Sweat trickled down his neck.
“Dad, I’m sorry about last night. And the other nights. I should have told you about the hedge. I just didn’t want to admit I lost my confidence.”
“I know.” He looked straight into my eyes, and I could almost feel his forgiveness.
“Last night I—”
But Dad interrupted. “Isn’t this rocker-powered chair a hoot, Winnie?”
“What?” Even now, Dad couldn’t stop talking about his inventions?
“I’ve been rocking with all my power, not even getting a tiny wind to help cool me off.” He leaned back in the chair, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Now will you look at this?” He closed his eyes. “God sends me a perfect breeze without even trying.”
“Dad, will you listen a—?” I shut my mouth. God sends the breeze without even trying?
“That’s it! Dad, you’re a genius!” My dad had just given me the missing piece to my confidence puzzle. And I was sure he had no idea that I needed it! Maybe I couldn’t lick that hedge, but God could!
Weird that admitting I couldn’t jump that hedge without God’s help should make me feel more self-confident than I’d ever felt in my whole life, but it did.
I kissed Dad’s forehead and took off for Pat’s Pets on the back bike. I let myself in with the key Pat leaves in the flowerpot in case we have to man the help line after hours. I wanted to e-mail Hawk before she got home from Paris. They were flying in today. She’d been honest with me about being afraid to talk to her parents, and all I’d done was try to give her fake confidence.
As I waited for the computer to boot, I prayed that Hawk would check her e-mail on the plane. Then I typed:
Hawk!
URGENT! Truth is, I haven’t been doing well with Bold Beauty. I fell off trying to get her over the high-jump hedge. Until last night, I’d faked it, pretending I still had my old confidence. But I don’t, Hawk. So don’t feel so bad about being scared to talk to your parents.
I tried to think how to say the rest. Hawk and I had never talked about God. She didn’t go to church. Our friendship was fragile enough without having her think I’d turned into a Jesus freak on her. On the other hand, how could I stop being honest now?
I finished my note:
I don’t know what you think about God and Jesus, Hawk. And I don’t know as much about God as Lizzy and Pat and Barker do. But I do know that’s where I’m going to get my confidence. My mom used to say that when we come to the end of ourselves, we come to the beginning of God. That’s where I am with Beauty, Hawk. Hope you’re reading this.
—Winnie
“I reckon that’s about the best answer I’ve ever read on the help line.”
I twirled around to see Pat Haven, still dressed in a flannel nightgown, her hair looking like she’d just survived an electrical shock.
“Pat! I’m sorry about everything. I should have told you. I fell off Bold Beauty. I haven’t gotten her over that hedge even once.”
“Well, duh. You think I’m dumber than a duck, no offense? Love those little creatures. I figured you’d tell me when you got around to it.”
I stood up and hugged her. “Pat, pray for me. The Howards are coming for Bold Beauty. I want the chance to face that hedge knowing what I know now.”
“Then scoot!” Pat nearly shoved me out the door. “And don’t forget our debate tonight!”
When I biked into our yard, Lizzy was standing with Dad, while Catman was taking his turn in the rocker. She handed me her can of pop.
“Thanks, Lizzy.” I took a big drink. “And I’m sorry for not—”
She cut me off with a shake of her head. “It’s okay. Catman filled us in. But Richard called, Winnie. They’re on their way here. Are you going to be okay?”
Catma
n stopped rocking. He and Dad stared at me.
“You bet! Bold Beauty and I have a hedge to jump.”
Saying it didn’t make me feel like hurling this time. All week long I’d lied to myself, thinking that was how I’d get the confidence I needed. But this was different. I knew I wasn’t in the boat alone.
They didn’t say anything.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “That hedge might be too big for me. But God made the hedge, right? How could it be too big for him?”
Before Dad could object, I dashed inside to change. As I sat on the bed and pulled on boots, something crunched inside my left boot. I reached inside and pulled out an index card. On it was printed:
In your strength I can crush an army; with my God I can scale any wall. He makes me as surefooted as a deer, leading me safely along the mountain heights.
—2 Samuel 22:30, 34
With my God I can scale any wall. Leave it to Lizzy to come up with the perfect verse. I stuck it in my pocket and ran out to the barn.
I’d just finished saddling Beauty when I heard Spidells’ trailer drive up and a car just after it. Doors slammed as Summer and Richard climbed down from the trailer and the Howards got out of their car. Lizzy’s voice floated across the yard as she stalled them.
By the time they made it to the barn, I’d led Beauty all around the hedge, letting her sniff and study it while I stroked her and promised everything would be all right.
I swung myself up into the saddle as the Howards walked over. When I waved to Adrianna, she waved back. I knew she’d be rooting for Beauty.
Richard’s smile faded as he turned to me. “Winnie, ride the mare over here! We need to load her.”
“Not quite yet!” I shouted, cantering by them. My heart was galloping, but not from fear . . . from excitement.
Only a few hours had passed since I’d tried the hedge, but nothing felt the same. This time I was riding double. God was there in the rhythm of the hoofbeats, the breath of Bold Beauty.
We cantered the loops, taking the cross jumps with no effort. I felt Beauty gather her muscles, anticipating the big jump. We looked at it straight on. But neither of us tensed or stiffened.
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