“What are you guys doing here?” she snapped.
Without their helmets on, I could see that they weren’t identical twins like their horses were. Amber had soft brown eyes and wavy hair while Jess had darker hair that was thick and straight. She also had angry eyes that stared out accusingly at us from under her bangs.
“My friend might move her horse here,” I said.
“Really?” she snapped. “Can you afford it?”
She looked down her nose at our scruffy jeans and scuffed boots. Mickey looked better than I did but not by much. In the opulent surroundings we’d suddenly gone from looking like casual horse owners to trailer trash. I felt my face get hot and Mickey just stood there with her mouth flopping open and closed like a fish.
“I have a Dutch Warmblood,” she finally said.
“Whoopdeedoo. What do you want, a medal or something? Do you see all the Warmbloods in this barn?”
“Come on Mickey,” I said. “I think we should go.”
I knew Mickey had a temper and a big mouth. As soon as she got over the shock, she was bound to say something horrible that we would both regret. As it was, she turned around as I dragged her from the barn.
“You’re not very nice,” she shouted.
Jess just ignored us and Amber stood there awkwardly, not seeming to know what to do. In the end she sided with her sister and turned away with her nose in the air.
“I told you,” I said as we got in the car. “Those girls are trouble.”
“I thought you were exaggerating,” Mickey said.
“So?” Mickey’s Mom said. “Did you scope out your competition?”
“Yeah,” Mickey slouched back in the seat. “And they’re going to cream us.”
“We’re in big trouble,” I said later as we lay on the floor in Mickey’s room.
Their house was one street over from the beach and her room had a view of the ocean. My room had a view of the local laundromat and the dumpster that the Chinese restaurant threw their leftover food into. But at least Mickey didn’t shove her family’s riches in my face like the evil Fox Run twins did.
Mickey’s room was decked out in tan and white. Her Mom had this thing about interior decorating and she’d given Mickey’s room a barn theme. She had pillows on the bed in the shape of hay bales and the ribbons she had won hung by baling twine on the wall. I thought it was an amazing room. Mickey would have preferred a beach theme because she currently had a crush on a surfer. Nick or Nolan or something like that, I couldn’t keep up. Mickey changed crushes quicker than the weather.
“How can we be in trouble?” she stretched lazily. “You see all those ribbons? I won those at shows.”
“I know smarty pants but you won those ribbons in easy classes and Hampton did all the work. This competition isn’t going to be easy and you said it yourself, Hampton thinks you’re a pushover now. He’ll probably dump you off in the ring and go galloping away for ice cream while you’re rolling around in the dirt.”
“Thanks a lot,” she kicked me playfully then saw my face. “What else?”
“Well for a start, I don’t have any show clothes, do I? I can’t exactly compete in my stained breeches and scuffed up paddock boots.”
“You have a point.”
She went to her closet and started shuffling about.
“I know I have some old show clothes in here somewhere,” she said.
“I don’t need your hand me downs,” I said grumpily.
“Oh really? Because that’s exactly what you need. Who else is going to give you riding clothes?”
She was right and the clothes that she produced weren't bad. It's just I suddenly felt more like trailer trash than ever.
"Try them on," she encouraged.
Looking in the mirror with the cream breeches, white shirt and navy coat, I got a little misty eyed.
"Amazing," I whispered.
"Well they're not perfect, otherwise I'd still be wearing them but from a distance you can't really tell they’ve been around the ring a few times. Besides, no one is going to be looking at you anyway, they're going to be watching Harlow because he's prettier than you."
"Hey!" I shouted, throwing a hay bale pillow at her. "And he's not pretty. He's handsome."
She threw the pillow back at me and it hit me square in the face. I tackled her playfully to the ground and we rolled around a few times before I finally got her to admit that I was right and she was wrong.
Later that night her soft snores kept me awake but I didn't care. The clothes were sitting in a pile on the floor next to me and I touched the soft fabric gently, letting it fall through my fingers. In my mind I saw my sister in her first show outfit. The way she looked so grown up in the jacket and how Mom helped her straighten the monogrammed choker and pull on her shiny black boots. I would have given anything in the world to have that for myself but if I couldn't, at least the next best thing was standing in my best friend’s bedroom in the clothes that she had given me. But I didn't have tall boots and the jacket needed to be dry cleaned. Still, at this very moment with the gentle lull of the ocean outside, I didn't think I had ever been happier.
The next day the good feeling had gone. Mickey was allowed back on Hampton but it wasn't going well. He was fresh after his week off and pranced under Mickey as she struggled to control him. One look at her face and I knew she was scared. The fall had rattled her and Hampton knew it.
"Shorten your reins," Esther yelled.
"I'm trying," Mickey said through clenched teeth.
But Hampton didn't like that one bit. He threw his head up and almost smacked Mickey in the nose. She slipped back in the saddle and her heels dug into his side. He half bucked and Mickey let out a muffled screech. As soon as all of Hampton's hooves were back on the ground, she slithered off him, tears in her eyes.
"Something's wrong with him," she said.
"The only thing wrong with him is you," Esther snapped.
She was not in a good mood. Mickey may have been back in the saddle or almost anyway but the Brits hadn't showed up at all. I wouldn't have been surprised if they decided that Fox Run was far more their cup of tea and I wouldn't blame them. If I had the money, it's where I'd be. Despite the snobby girls and their attitudes, Fox Run still produced some of the best riders in the country.
Esther snatched the reins from Mickey. Hampton was still skittering back and forth like a two year old. His eyes wide and nostrils flared.
"You," she pointed at me. "Get off."
I jumped off Harlow who stood there looking at Hampton like he was an idiot. I clutched the reins, praying that she wasn't going to say that the competition was over. That she wouldn't be entering us and we'd blown it.
"Switch horses," she said.
"What?" we both yelped.
"You heard me. Switch. Now."
I clutched Harlow's reins tighter. Hampton was a nice horse, well not when he was jumping up and down like an idiot but most of the time he was a perfect angel. Still, that didn't mean I wanted to ride him. I loved Harlow, the way he rounded his back over a jump, his gentle mouth at the end of the reins, almost an extension of my arms and hands. How he read my mind and did what I was asking of him almost before I had to tell him. I was about to tell Esther no when Mickey did it for me.
"I don't want to ride Harlow," she said, crossing her arms defiantly. "Hampton is my horse."
"I know but you don't seem to be able to control your horse today and if you fall off again, we'll never get to the show. So you get your butt up on Harlow and you get your confidence back. Got it?"
Esther pulled her hair back into a pony tail and tucked her shirt into her breeches. She only pulled her hair back into a pony tail when she meant business and for the first time I realized something. Esther wanted us to beat those stuck up girls as much as we did. She wasn't entering us just so that we could win. She was entering us so that Sand Hill could win and girls like Jess and Amber might think twice about where they went for their lessons.
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I handed Harlow's reins to Mickey, trying to ignore the way he nudged me with his nose. Hampton was still jumping around on the end of his.
"Cut it out," I snapped.
If I was going to ride him then he'd better get a grip. It was okay for Mickey. She had a Mom who would take her to the emergency room for an x-ray. I couldn't exactly explain away a sprained arm that I got during choir practice.
Mickey hauled herself up onto Harlow with a grunt. He was taller than Hampton by at least a hand. He just stood there while she adjusted the stirrups. Hampton didn't. He wiggled around underneath me as I struggled to get situated.
"If I wasn't here," Esther said. "What would you do to make him settle down and pay attention?"
I didn't answer. Instead I closed my legs around his broad sides and forced him forward. He pricked his ears as I gave him his head and we cantered around the ring at a brisk pace. As he eventually started to settle, I pointed him in the direction of the schooling cross rail in the corner. He took it in stride. His power was amazing. I could feel it beneath me, coiled and ready to jump the moon. I couldn't help but grin, only as we circled around and started to slow, I saw that Mickey wasn't grinning at all.
CHAPTER FIVE
I loved Harlow more than anything in the whole world but I had to admit that Hampton was a dream to ride. He had power that poor Harlow would never be able to tap into. A couple of times he nearly jumped me right out of the tack. Esther had gone from frowns and grimaces to smiles and grins. Once we’d gone around the course a few times she told us to walk for a bit while she raised the jumps.
Hampton and Harlow walked side by side but Mickey didn’t say a word. Harlow had been a perfect gentleman, ignoring her misguided aids as he went obediently around the course. She only had one rail down and she hadn’t fallen off so I thought that would count for something but apparently she was pretty mad that Esther had pulled her off her own horse. Deep down, I didn’t blame her. I’d be mad too if I was her.
“He goes better for you,” she eventually said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s your horse. I’m just going through the motions. He was looking for you the whole time.”
“It’s nice of you to say,” she said. “But he wasn’t.”
She kicked Harlow ahead and my heart did a sick little flop in my chest. Mickey was the only friend I had and without her I never would have had the nerve to ask Esther if I could clean stalls to pay for lessons. I owed my whole secret horse life to her from the clothes I was wearing to the horse I was now riding. As much as I loved riding Hampton, I didn’t want to hurt her anymore.
“Should we switch back now?” I shouted to Esther.
She looked up from the jump she was raising, red and white pole in her hands.
“No,” she called back. “Let’s just finish up on the horses we’re mounted on. Okay?”
I couldn’t exactly argue with her. After all it was her barn, her lesson and her rules. I waited for Mickey to say something like she normally did but instead she just pushed Harlow into a trot and rode further away from me. My heart sank. But when I saw the height of the jumps, it sank even further.
“Um. Don’t you think they’re a little high?” I said.
Our jumps were usually set just over two feet with two six being the highest we’d ever jumped. Esther always said that the horses didn’t need their legs ruined while we were up there learning how to release their heads and perfect our two point and yet now here she was, waiting for me to go around a course that looked easily like it was over three feet high. I knew it wasn’t a big difference but somehow the jumps now looked enormous. She’d even pulled out the oxer so that it stretched really wide.
“I think you can handle it,” Esther said.
“Wait just a minute,” Mickey squeaked. “I don’t need her ruining my horse right before the show. What’s the point? To prove that she’s better than me? You’ve already done that.”
Before Esther could answer, she yanked Harlow out of the arena and was trotting back to the barn. I knew it wasn’t right. Horses couldn’t come before my best friend and yet the course loomed before me, waiting for me to prove that I was as good as my sister once was.
“How about it Emily?”
Esther was giving me the choice. Walk out of the arena and go after my best friend to make things right or take this super horse around a course of jumps that I’d only dreamed of. I knew it was wrong, it had to be but as I circled Hampton to ready him, I suddenly didn’t care.
He pricked his ears as we approached the first fence, the vertical with the red and white poles, launching over it with ease. My face stretched into a grin as I steadied him down the line. Six strides to the uneven bars and then back to the yellow and white with the flowers underneath. Hampton cocked his head to look at the flowers but I nudged him on. Then around the corner to the vertical that had the old hay bales underneath. He took off too soon and had to stretch to get over it and then just like that our striding was off. It was supposed to be six strides to the blue oxer but we’d landed too far in. I closed my legs around him and gave him his head, pushing him for five to make the last jump. He launched over it with a grunt and I heard the top rail clatter down behind us.
I patted his sweaty neck as I let him walk, stretching his head long and low.
“What did you do wrong?” Esther asked as she walked beside me.
“I buried him at the vertical and then I pushed him instead of holding him back.”
“Good. You know what to do but you do the opposite instead. Always a race with you.” She patted Hampton’s neck. “Remember, pretty is slow.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “You learned something.”
“What?” I pulled Hampton up and looked down at her, wiping the sweat off my forehead.
“That you are a really good rider Emily and you are going to go far.”
I couldn’t get the grin off my face as I took Hampton back to the barn but then I remembered. I’d just stabbed my best friend in the back. I had to make it up to her.
“Mickey?” I called out.
But the barn was empty. Harlow stood in his stall, his coat sleek and wet. His mane still tangled where Mickey hadn’t bothered to brush it out. I untacked Hampton and hosed him off, taking special care to wash his white socks with shampoo. She may not have been bothered to do the special things for Harlow but I was going to make sure Hampton knew he was a champion. I even gave him half the carrots I had brought for Harlow. He snuffled them up delicately with his brown nose, surprise on his face. Mickey usually forgot her carrots and Hampton was stuck with sticky mints from the bottom of her grooming box.
“Thank you boy,” I said as I put him back in his stall and took off his halter.
He nudged me gently with his nose. He was a good horse. A great horse. He was just waiting for Mickey to catch up to him. I didn’t know if she ever would. There were some people who had a natural talent for riding but Mickey wasn’t one of them.
Harlow greedily snatched the rest of the carrots from my hand.
“I’m sorry you had to share,” I said as I brushed out his mane. “But Hampton worked harder than you.”
When I was done, I laid my face against his shoulder. I would have done anything to take Harlow over that course of jumps, watch them fly under us between his gray ears. But Harlow was older. He had issues like an old suspensory injury and the bad back that Esther kept telling me about. He would never be able to consistently jump at that height. I was worried that I’d outgrown him.
I cleaned Hampton’s tack and put it away for Mickey. I didn’t want her thinking that I didn’t care about her stuff. I left her a note on the dry erase board in her locker.
“I’m sorry,” I wrote. “Please forgive me.”
But Mickey didn’t forgive me and the next day when I rode my bike back to the barn the note had been erased and one angry word was left in its place.
“Never.”
It was early. The horses were still munching on their hay and Esther was in the office. I’d managed to sneak out of the house before Mom was awake. It was easier that way. I left her a note.
“Gone to choir practice. Love you.”
I hoped she wouldn’t be as mad with me as Mickey apparently was. I tried to call her last night but she wouldn’t even come to the phone. Her Mom said she was sleeping but her Mom isn’t a very good liar. I knew that Mickey just didn’t want to talk to me and I didn’t know how to make it right. After all it wasn’t my idea to ride Hampton, it was Esther’s.
I stood in the doorway watching her shuffle papers around on her desk. She had a calculator and a worried look on her face.
“Bills?” I asked.
She nodded.
“My Mom gets that same look on her face when she does ours.”
I went in and sat on the tack trunk she kept by the door, picked up a halter and started cleaning it with the sponge that lay next to it. Esther had rules. One of them was that there was always a job to be done in the barn and even if you were sitting down, you’d better be doing something. I didn’t mind. It was good to do something with my hands while I tried to find the words to talk to Esther.
“Mickey’s mad at me,” I finally said.
“I know,” she put the calculator down with a sigh. “You have to know, that wasn’t my intention,” she said. “To come between you two. I just wanted her to see that her horse was capable of so much more than she thought he was. I wanted her to have something to strive for.”
“I know,” I said, rubbing at a particularly bad sweat stain furiously. “I’m always telling her she needs to believe in her horse more. And herself.”
Esther poured a cup from the coffee machine on her desk. The scent washed over me, strong and rich.
“Want one?” she asked.
I nodded, although the caffeine probably wouldn’t help my jittering nerves.
“I was also being selfish,” she handed the cup over and sat down next to me. “I wanted you to see how great you are.”
“Me?” I gulped at the steaming coffee and felt it burn my throat.
Secret Rider (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 1) Page 3