by Toni Mari
When Erica neared him, Santos focused on her. His giant head towered above even Erica’s height. He pointed his large ears at her face and was apparently sending her a mental message because she laughed and said, “All right, my love. You may have another.” She turned to me. “He would like another treat, please.”
My eyes widened. “That’s what he said to you?”
“Well, no. He said, ‘Make her give me another of those yummy things.’” Erica smiled.
I offered him another treat and reached up, high up, to run my hand over his shimmering coppery neck. I thought I could feel the coiled power contained in his bulging muscles. He was the opposite of Windsong. He held himself still and let his nobility radiate all around him. Charisma, plain and simple. Erica had it too. I was honored to be standing in their presence. My feelings must have shown on my face because Shawn leaned over my shoulder and whispered, “I know. Sometimes, I have to pinch myself.”
“Well, it sure explains why you are such a great rider.”
Pleasure flooded his face and he smiled. “Thank you.”
Shawn and I leaned on the rail by the gate, and Mandy stood on the second board so she could see into the ring. Santos’s red coat gleamed under the lights, and the crowd faded into the dark. When Santos trotted toward us, Mandy crooned, “Santos, such a good boy.” His eyes and ears flicked toward her, but he didn’t turn his head. He was working, after all.
When Erica pointed him down the centerline, his focus became razor sharp. His ears flopped softly back toward Erica, and his eyes never looked left or right. His feet tapped the ground lightly before pushing him in the air six or eight inches. For a horse of his enormous size, he moved like a butterfly in a flower garden. I could tell he was giving the final piaffe on the centerline one hundred and ten percent. His nostrils flared and his breath huffed out in little grunts with each marching step. Both Santos and Erica lifted their shoulders and their chins for the final halt. Santos stood motionless while Erica saluted and then waved to the cheering crowd with a big grin. It took my breath away, and I clutched my chest, sighing and swiping at my eyes. So beautiful. She nudged him forward and rubbed both sides of his neck.
On their way out of the ring, Erica stopped in front of us, blew Mandy a kiss, and winked at Shawn and me.
“Good boy, Santos,” Mandy cried, jumping up and down. I swear that horse gave a slight nod, eyes and ears pointed at Mandy. My heart swelled, and I kept clapping and cheering with the rest of the crowd. She had the highest score! I jumped up and down. Shawn put his arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.
Erica moved through the gate and paused five or six strides outside of the ring. A small crowd of people mobbed around the pair, but Erica looked up into the stands, searching. Then her eyes locked onto someone. I followed her gaze. Mark stood at the edge of the bleachers, his face awash in pride and love. The look between them was so intimate I felt like I was spying. I turned back to Mandy and took her hand.
“C’mon. Let’s follow your mother.”
She tugged back. “Wait. We have to wait for Daddy.”
Mark was pounding down the steps toward us. He swept Mandy up in his arms. “Let’s go, little lady.” He nuzzled her neck.
“Mommy and Santos were beautiful, weren’t they, Daddy?”
“Beyond words.” He started after Erica, and then stopped and turned to us. “Let’s go, you two. Our queen awaits.” He collected us with a toss of his head.
Shawn put an arm around my shoulders and we followed them. I felt like I was just invited backstage to meet the band at a sold-out concert.
#
Chapter Twenty-Five
Shawn and I kicked back in front of Erica’s trailer. It was set up like a small reception with a folding table full of drinks and munchies. Mandy had fallen asleep in her chair, so Mark had carried her inside the living quarters and tucked her in bed.
“Where do you think Alison and Melinda are right now?” I wondered, stuffing a mini pizza in my mouth and taking a swig of soda.
“Melinda is having one of her trailer parties.”
“Oh, should we stop in?” I sat up. “Or was I not invited?”
Shawn laughed. “Of course you were invited. Yeah, let’s go.”
We waved our goodbyes to Erica, Mark, and Kate. I glanced at my watch. It was only ten thirty, not too late. I would stay at Melinda’s for a little while, and then check on Windsong one more time. We didn’t have to get up that early tomorrow, so it was fine.
When Shawn and I stepped into the light by the trailer, Melinda looked at us together and her face got taut. But her displeasure was nothing compared to the look of pure hatred Alison darted at me. I deliberately separated from Shawn and walked over to Melinda. “Hey, nice little crowd you have here.”
She didn’t smile. Her eyes looked past me and turned even icier. I looked over my shoulder. Alison was pushing Shawn down into the chair she had just hopped up from. She put a beer in his hand and sat on his lap. Shawn was smiling as he took a sip from the can. I turned back to Melinda with a sympathetic look.
“What’s that look for?” She pushed herself up and brushed past me. I put a hand on her arm to stop her.
“I know you like Shawn.”
“You don’t know anything.” She pulled away but then spun back toward me, pointing a finger at my chest. “You’re a fine one to talk. You have a boyfriend—a fantastic boyfriend—and yet every time I turn around you are following Shawn around. What is it with you? You’re so spoiled you have to have everything?”
“It’s not like that.” I shook my head.
“Then what is it like?”
I looked back over my shoulder. Shawn was standing next to the chair, and Alison was sitting in it. He was still sipping the beer. Alison waved a small bottle of something, and I knew it wasn’t soda. “I don’t know.” I spun on my heel and left. She was right. What was I doing with Shawn? I needed to put some space between him and me. Seeing him tip that bottle up was so disappointing. People don’t change. And I wasn’t here to change things—I just wanted to compete on the team. My idea of us working together, supporting each other, that was just immature. This was a competition, not a play date. Friendship was not part of it. I sped up.
“Jane, wait up.” Shawn jogged up behind me. “What’s the deal? You left without me.”
Without slowing down, I threw him a look. “We’re not together. Do what you want.”
“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go back to the party.”
I stopped and poked him in the chest. “How many times do you have to blow a ride before you figure it out?”
“What? I had a couple sips of beer.”
I deflated like a balloon, air hissing through my teeth. “You’re right. Go back to your party. I just take this stuff more seriously than you do.” I turned and started up the path.
He grabbed my arm. “Wait. I’d rather be with you.”
I stopped to look at him. “Really? Because I’m not going to drink. I’m not going to sit on your lap, and I am certainly not going to kiss you.”
His eyebrows went up. “Who said anything about kissing?”
I groaned. “Go back. I’m going to check on Windsong.”
“I’ll come help you. And, Jane,” he fell into step beside me, “thank you.”
I kept walking. I looked over at him walking beside me, hands stuffed in the pockets of his baggy jeans. He was studying the ground, his bottom lip between his teeth. After a minute, I said, “For what?”
“For stopping me.” He wasn’t teasing anymore.
Windsong calmly munched hay in the dim light of his stall. He shuffled over and took the treats from my hand as I stepped in.
“Seems to be just fine,” Shawn said.
“You’re just fine, aren’t you, baby?” I held Windsong’s head between my hands and rubbed my cheek on his soft, velvety nose. “Night, night, handsome,” I crooned.
We walked in silence back
to my trailer. I ground my teeth, pleated my shirt hem, sighed a lot, but I didn’t say a word. Finally, before opening the door, I chirped, “G’night.”
Shawn ran a hand up my arm, his gaze focused on my mouth. “Don’t I get goodnight kiss, too?”
I hopped quickly up on the step to the living quarters, holding the door between us. “No.”
He let his fingers slide down my arm, twining them in mine. “Worth a try.” He kissed my hand.
I put my lips on the spot he kissed as I watched him walk away. Good job, Jane, keeping him at a distance. I sighed and reached to pull my phone out of my pocket. Not there. I shoved my hand in my pocket. Nothing. I patted all my pockets. Oh, I had left it on the chair in front of Windsong’s stall. I whirled around and banged out the door.
I ran back up the path to the barn, kicking myself for being so distracted. I slowed to a walk as I turned into the barn. “Hey, ponies.”
A silhouette was framed in the dim light farther down the aisle. “Hello,” I called.
Alison flinched and her head whipped around. Without saying anything, she turned and ran out the other end of the barn, dropping something in her flight.
I shook my head. She was such a wacko. When I reached Windsong’s stall, I picked up a whip from the aisle. What was she doing with my whip? I threw the stall door open. “Windsong?” He stood in the back of the stall, his nostrils flared and his coat damp with sweat. “Baby, easy. Easy, boy.” I slowly reached up to pat his neck. He stared through the bars for another minute and then lowered his head to lick my hand.
Wait a minute. Were these symptoms? As I watched Windsong’s ribs rise and fall, I banged the whip handle on my palm. He flinched at the movement, so I tossed the thing out the door. Immediately, his eyes softened and he reached for my hand again.
He looked okay. His nostrils were flaring, but like he was scenting danger, not like he was out of breath. I spun around in the stall looking for clues. Why was Alison standing there after eleven at night? And did she have something to do with Windsong’s attitude? I checked his hay pile, pawing through it for foreign objects. I looked in his feed bucket, empty. And I looked in his water bucket—poop. I rubbed my face. That was it. She put the manure in there, hoping to knock me out of the show or at least to keep Windsong from being his best. But what was she doing with the whip? I ran my fingers over Windsong’s body, looking for marks. Nothing, thank goodness.
I unsnapped the bucket and lugged it through the door as the realization sank in and my blood pressure began to rise. I’ll kill her. Who did she think she was? I slammed the door shut and dragged the full bucket to the end of the barn where I kicked it over. Then I kicked it again.
As I scrubbed the muck out, I tried to take deep breaths. This had to be illegal. A person couldn’t abuse another person’s horse! I had to tell someone. Robert? What would I say? “I saw Alison standing in front of Windsong’s stall holding a whip. Then she ran away.”
I couldn’t prove anything. And maybe Windsong had pooped in the bucket—but I just knew that it was her. A tense laugh shot out of my lips.
I carried the heavy, brimming bucket back to Windsong’s stall and hung it in place. He was back to munching on his hay and calmly took a treat from me. I stepped out, closed the door, and leaned against it. I had to tell someone. I texted Cory.
#
Chapter Twenty-Six
After taking care of Windsong, I brought breakfast back to the trailer. Music filled the air, Elton John. I scrambled to dig my phone out of my pocket.
“I need to talk to you,” I hissed, looking around to make sure I was alone.
“I got your text. What happened?” Cory drawled.
“I think Alison is the one who put manure in Windsong’s water. And I think yesterday she was doing something with a whip to upset him.”
“Slow down. Where’s this coming from?”
“Last night, I forgot my phone in the barn when I did night check. When I went back to get it, I caught her standing in front of Windsong’s stall with a whip. She ran away before I could talk to her. Windsong was a sweaty mess and there was poop in his bucket again. He never does that at home, never.”
“Whoa. If she really did it, that’s evil.”
“I know. What should I do?” I banged my thumb on the side of the phone.
“Well, you have to actually catch her. If you accuse her of something like that and no one believes you, you’re screwed.”
“I did catch her!” I squealed, slapping my thigh.
“No, you saw her standing in front of the stall. The rest is a guess.”
I shook the phone, almost throwing it on the ground. This was no time for Cory’s calm, slow approach. That crazy girl was messing with my horse! “How? How am I going to catch her before she does something that really hurts Windsong?”
Cory blew out a deep breath. “You’ll have to know where she is at all times or stay by Windsong. I wouldn’t tell anyone yet, not until you’re absolutely sure. An accusation like that will stir up all kinds of an uproar, and one or the other of you will be kicked off the team.”
I sank into a chair. I hadn’t thought of that. I mean, I knew she should be kicked off, but I didn’t think about me. I knew she did it, I knew it in my heart. “Okay. I’m gonna be on her like a fly on poop. She is not going to get another chance to mess with Windsong.”
“I wish I was there to help you.” His voice was quiet.
“I know, me too. But I can get Shawn . . . “ I paused. Cory didn’t say a word, but I could almost feel the anger radiating from the phone. “No, I’ll do it myself. I agree with you, I shouldn’t tell anyone,” I back-pedaled. But it was too late.
“Be careful.” Without saying goodbye, he hung up.
Kate sat in the chair next to me. “Good morning. I stopped in on Windsong. He looks good.”
I was tempted to tell Kate everything because I wasn’t used to keeping stuff from her. She calmly sipped coffee, paging through the show program. If I told her, she would feel compelled to confront Alison’s father because he was the team captain, and that could cause more problems and result in me getting kicked off the team. No, I needed better proof. I nodded. “Yeah, he seems fine.”
“Good. Why don’t you take him for a walk in a little while, and then I’ll help you get him ready.”
My phone buzzed again and fireworks went off in my head when I looked at the screen. “Hi, Erica. What’s up?”
“Good morning. What time are you tacking up? I’ll meet you at the ring and help you warm up.”
“You will?”
“Sure. I know it’s just a showcase and the scores don’t count. But we need to show them what you’ve got.”
“We? Umm. I’m a . . . What time do you want me?”
“Forty minutes before your class. What’s your time?”
“Two forty-seven.”
“Shawn rides after you, then. I’ll see you at two o’clock. Can you call Shawn and tell him? I’ll warm you up together. Thanks.”
“Yep.” I was frozen in place, and my phone blinked and winked off on its own.
I turned my head slowly and looked at Kate. I opened my mouth to tell her about Erica but then realized she might be hurt that I wanted to work with Erica and not with her. I didn’t know what to say.
“What?” Kate said, lifting a hand in question.
“Well,” I looked down at my toes. “Erica just called and asked me to warm up with her before my class.”
“Seriously?” Her voice sounded tight.
“Are you okay with that? I could call her back?” My voice trailed off. I didn’t want to cancel, but I didn’t want to hurt Kate either. I looked up when the silence dragged on. “I’ll call her.” I lifted my phone.
“No, don’t. Umm, it’s okay.” She took a breath and huffed it out. “You should go. Erica is a coach for the team, and that makes sense that she wants to warm you up.”
I grinned, rising from the chair. “Thanks, Kate.”
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Despite her words, Kate looked like I just took my spur and jabbed it through her leg. She nodded as she went inside the trailer, letting the screen door slam behind her.
I strode to the barn to take Windsong for his walk. With a fortifying breath, I dialed Shawn.
“Hi.” His voice was intimate and welcoming.
Immediately, I blurted out, “Erica asked me to call you. We are supposed to meet her at the warm-up ring at two o’clock.”
“Okay.” The leagues between the hope I had heard in his first word and the disappointment I heard in that last one were vast.
“Shawn,” I said quietly, “I am really excited to be riding with you and Erica.”
After a moment of silence when I thought he would just hang up, he said, “Me too.”
Following Windsong’s walk, I began to get things ready. Recalling the small crowd that watched my lesson, I wanted everything to look just right. I bathed Windsong to within an inch of his life; I braided his mane painstakingly to perfection; I wiped down all my tack, polishing the metal until it gleamed in the light; and I went back to the trailer to put on make-up and fix my hair. I inspected myself in the mirror. I looked sharp and elegant in my show gear. My hair was neatly in a bun, no loose ends. I had cleaned my black boots, and they glinted smartly. With a self-satisfied smile, I admitted that I looked like a professional.
Windsong was pacing his stall when I returned. I hadn’t even been gone for an hour, but I looked around suspiciously. Nothing was out of place, but I couldn’t tell for sure whether Alison had done something or had been here. There were a million reasons why Windsong could be agitated. I really did need a partner who could stay with Windsong when I needed to leave his stall. I guess Kate wasn’t helping me this afternoon. Remembering the look on her face when I had said I was riding with Erica took the edge off my high. I tied Windsong loosely to the bars of the stall and started tacking up.
By the time I was finished working on the fidgety beast, my white breeches had dirt smudges and my bun was hanging sideways off my head. So much for my cool, professional look. Melinda was right, I needed a groom. I ground my teeth. I missed Cory.