When the other rider using the ring exited, DJ motioned Mrs. Johnson to use the entire ring. “Just keep him at an even jog on the rail. Take a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth and relax your lower back.”
But at the far corner, Patches threw up his head. With one leap, he tore around the arena. Ears back, bit in his teeth, Patches looked to be running straight into the fence.
Chapter • 8
“Turn him into the center!”
Mrs. Johnson hauled on the reins, and Patches swung into circling the ring. All of the other riders moved their horses out of the ring to keep from being smashed into.
“The center. Rein him into the center!” DJ shouted to be heard but kept her voice even. Her heart felt like it was jumping out of her chest.
The whites of his eyes showing, Patches tore around the arena.
“Turn him into the center!”
Mrs. Johnson clung to the saddle horn with one hand. She pulled on the reins, but Patches ignored her.
Around again.
“Rein him tight into the center. Pull on the inside rein!” DJ could hear the other riders. When one said, “I’ll go get her,” she was grateful to hear another tell him no.
God, help her hear me. Calm her, please. Calm me! “Mrs. Johnson, rein Patches into the center of the arena!” DJ wanted to run to the rail and grab Patches’ reins herself, but she knew she or Mrs. Johnson or all three of them could get hurt that way. God, please keep her in the saddle.
Patches circled the arena three times as DJ continued to call to his rider. Sweat dotted the horse’s neck, foam flicked backward from his bit. He charged on.
“The inside rein. Turn him to the inside!” DJ felt like a broken record. When was that fool horse going to run out of steam? How long could he keep from running into the railings?
Mrs. Johnson let go of the saddle horn. She took the reins in both hands and pulled back on the inside rein as DJ ordered once again. Pulled into the tighter circle, Patches slowed. He came to a shuddering stop only three feet from DJ.
DJ grabbed the reins right under the horse’s chin. She wanted to beat him over the head with anything she could pick up—maybe a two-by-four would get through his thick skull. Calling him every name she could think of in her mind, she looked up at the white-faced rider. “Why don’t you relax now and get your breath?”
“Way to go, Mrs. J,” one of the other riders called. “You just made it through every rider’s nightmare.”
“You showed him who’s boss!”
At DJ’s signal, the other riders moved off. She waited.
Mrs. Johnson still clung to the saddle horn. Her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly reach up to wipe away the tears.
“I … I’m s-s-sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. The idiot here spooked at nothing and got away with it.”
Patches stood, sides heaving, nostrils flared so they glowed red. He snorted, blowing snot and foam all over DJ’s arm.
“Thanks, Patches, as if you haven’t done enough.” DJ talked to the horse, knowing Mrs. Johnson needed some time to recover.
Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Johnson straightened her back and patted Patches’ neck. “If I never do that again, it will be too soon.” She shook her head. “I let myself get in too much of a rush and didn’t leave him on the hot walker as long as you suggested. This is all my own fault.”
“But you learned something.” DJ could hear Bridget’s words coming out of her own mouth.
Mrs. Johnson nodded and sighed again. “Why do I always have to learn the hard way?”
Knowing she didn’t expect an answer, DJ smiled. How come I always learn that way, too? She’d often asked Gran that same question.
“Well, I guess I better put him away for now.” Mrs. Johnson gave DJ a look stuffed full of appeal.
DJ shook her head. “Nope, now we finish the lesson.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
DJ shook her head again. “Bridget’s rules. Unless you are too broken to do so, you get back on and get over the fear right now.”
“Why, it … it’s not fear, it’s just th-that I …” The woman stared at DJ. “You mean it, don’t you?”
“Yup. Really, it’s the best way.” What if she refuses? Since this was DJ’s first adult student, she tried to stay cool. If Mrs. Johnson said “no way,” what could she do? Tell Bridget?
Shaking her head, the woman gathered her reins, shot DJ a dirty look, and shoved her foot in the stirrup. Patches never twitched a hair as she swung aboard. “What now, sergeant?”
DJ swallowed a grin. “You walk around the ring once, then I’ll signal you to a jog. We’ll just see how Patches behaves.”
Patches played the part of model horse for the rest of the lesson.
DJ drew in a deep sigh of relief. What would she have done if …
“You did well, ma petite,” Bridget said from the railing after Mrs. Johnson took Patches back to the barn. “Level head, level voice. You kept everyone calm.”
“Maybe on the outside, but my heart pounded so hard, I couldn’t hear myself talk. What if he’d crashed into the fence?”
“But he did not. Patches is no fool.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
Bridget let a smile flicker across her face. “I know he seems that way, but he just likes to get the upper hand. If Mrs. Johnson had done like you told her, this might not have happened. One thing, remind her to watch out for that place where Patches spooked. You can be sure he will remember and try it again.”
“I felt like braining him.”
“But feeling and doing are two different things, non?
DJ nodded. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“You are very welcome. I will see you in a half hour in the outside ring, yes?”
DJ could feel a grin stretching her face at the same time as the tiredness drained out her toes. Jumping! She could finally jump with Major again. “I’ll be ready.”
Major wuffled in her ear as she dug the hoof-pick out of the bucket.
“Good thing you stay as clean as you do,” she muttered while picking his hooves. Major nudged her seat and nearly knocked her over. “Good job, horse. Another one like that, and I’ll tie you down.” On the off front hoof, the shoe jiggled when she picked at it. Dirt had caked under it, making the job extra hard. “I’ll call the farrier when I get home,” she promised herself. Wonder if he has time Saturday morning? That would be a miracle. Bet he’s booked a week or more ahead.
The inner monologue continued while she saddled Major, adjusted the bridle, and led him outside. As the shy sun kept ducking behind the western clouds, all she could think of was the dry weather. The ring was dry enough for jumping. She didn’t need stirrups to mount with—she used her wings to fly up into the saddle.
“That sure was a circus out there this afternoon,” Bunny said as she exited the outer ring. “I couldn’t believe how calm and cool you stayed.”
“Uh, thanks.” DJ nodded and rode on in. Where did that come from? She looked over her shoulder to see the petite blonde riding her horse toward the barn. Someone been feeding her nice pills or something?
DJ took plenty of time to warm up Major, walking the ring, including the cavalletti bars, then trotting. Major kept his ears forward, snorting and almost dancing his pleasure.
“You’re feeling mighty frisky, aren’t you?”
The horse bobbed his head, as if he understood every word.
DJ leaned forward and stroked his neck, smoothing his mane to the right side. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and hug him. She had a sound horse again, her own horse, a willing animal who was becoming a better athlete all the time. The sun shone, turkey vultures crisscrossed the sky above the green hills, and the jumps awaited them.
Major danced sideways when a breeze twirled his tail and brought the fresh fragrance of growing grass and budding leaves. He snorted and played with the bit, adding his own notes to the
music of coming spring. A cow bellowed down in the flat, and another answered. A horse whinnied from within the barns, echoed by one from the pasture.
DJ hummed a marching song as they pranced across the cavalletti. When she turned Major toward the first jump, she could feel his excitement. “You like jumping about as much as I do, huh?” They took them all like they’d practiced flying only moments before. When she went around the course again, they felt like one machine, oiled, smooth, and primed for power.
“One would think there had been no break for the two of you.” Bridget shut the gate behind her as she called her greeting.
DJ finished the jumping course and rode into the middle, stopping right in front of her teacher. “I have missed this so much I can’t tell you.”
“I know, ma petite, you have been patient. But your dressage work is showing in the way you give your aids and the strength you are both gaining. Major bends around your leg now like he should, but you need to keep him more on the bit. Encourage him to bring the power from his rear, and he will become ever stronger.”
DJ nodded. She, too, could feel the difference. “Thank you, Bridget, for insisting I work on dressage. I promise I won’t argue anymore when you ask me to do something I’m not pumped to do.”
“Did you argue?” One eyebrow cocked, and a smile twitched at the corners of Bridget’s wide mouth.
DJ grinned back at her. “Moi?”
“Good, now I want you to go around again and concentrate on your legs. Drive him forward so he is all collected power. Then he will not expend so much energy on each jump and when the jumps are raised, he has energy enough in his reserves.”
DJ nodded. “And has more to push off with.”
“Precisely.”
Before the hour was over, Bridget had raised the poles and caught DJ losing her concentration.
Fiddle, and here I was going for a perfect lesson. She concentrated on counting the strides between the jumps, mentally checking the placement of her legs and hands. Major touched the ground again so lightly she could have been a feather on his back. If ears could grin in delight, his did.
“That jump was as close to perfection as I’ve seen you do. Replay that in your mind often, exactly how it felt, what you did. Think about it right before you go to bed at night. Relive, replay the experience. Then when you are going to jump again, bring it all back.”
DJ nodded. While she’d heard Bridget talk about replaying and pre-paying before, this time she understood it clear down to her toenails. Replay what you do well, then preplay the experience again before jumping. She repeated the words to herself to brand them on her memory.
“The more you do this, the more it will become second nature for you. Replay and preplay is a tool the Olympic winners use.” Bridget laid her hand on DJ’s knee. “Use it well. Now, go around again—and focus.”
DJ and Major took the course at a perfectly collected, powerful gait, sailing over the three-foot jumps as if they were inches high. Major flicked his tail at the end and cantered back up to Bridget. He extended his nose, as if to say, “You can congratulate me with a nose rub, if you like.”
Bridget obliged, laughing up at DJ. “Your horse is as much of a character as you are. What a team.”
“We should have had that run on video so you could watch it yourself.” Bunny leaned her crossed arms on the top rail of the fence. “Then others could watch it, too, as a good training tool.”
DJ hadn’t even noticed they had a spectator. She waved toward Bunny with a surprised “Thanks.”
“Make sure you cool him down well, now,” Bridget said, raising her hand in a circled thumb and forefinger salute.
“I will. Thanks, Bridget. What a lesson!” She walked Major around the arena, paying close attention to any weakness in his front leg.
Bunny was waiting for them when they finally exited the arena. Several other riders had come out to try the jumps. The sun had disappeared behind the hills and with that, the temperature dropped.
DJ dismounted to walk Major back toward the barn.
“You’ve come a long way since the first time I watched you jump.” Bunny fell into step beside her. “And the way you handled that runaway in the other arena. You are one cool young lady under pressure.”
Is this the same woman who was yelling in the barn last week? How come she’s being so nice to me?
When hasn’t she been nice to you? The small voice inside her head asked. Remember that time...
DJ shut off the voice so she could pay attention to Bunny. “Thank you.”
“I wish I’d had that kind of cool when I was your age. In fact, I wish I had it now.”
DJ reminded her face to behave. Question marks all over it would not be cool.
“How did you get that way, or were you born patient?”
No matter how hard she tried, DJ couldn’t hold back her snort at that comment. “That’s not what my mother would say. Me either.”
“Really? So where did it come from?”
DJ thought a moment, her eyes squinting a bit in the process. “I’d say what patience I do have came because of my grandmother’s prayers and the way she’s trained me. Bridget, too—on the training, that is.”
“She’s a great trainer. A better trainer than competitor, I think. That was the one saving grace of having to move to this area—I could work with Bridget Sommersby.”
“You didn’t want to come here?”
“Ha, are you kidding? My life was perfect before we moved here.” Then, as if she’d said too much, Bunny moved off to another aisle. “See you later, DJ.”
“What was that all about?” Amy asked when Major and DJ approached the stall.
DJ shrugged. “Got me. She sure was nice, though.”
“She wants something.” Amy petted Major’s nose.
“Amy!”
“Doesn’t she, Joe? You said the same thing.”
“You guys are too suspicious.” DJ led Major into his stall, and Joe began to strip off the saddle.
“Wish I’d been watching your lesson.” Joe laid the saddle over the top of the lower door.
“How do you know about it?”
“Bridget.” Amy handed DJ the grooming bucket.
“That lesson was the coolest, most awesome thing in my whole life.” DJ’s voice softened, like she’d been praying.
“Even better than seeing Stormy born?” Amy asked.
DJ tilted her head and thought a moment. “Maybe.”
“You just have time to clean up,” her mother said when DJ walked in the door later.
“DJ! DJ!” Bobby and Billy flung themselves at her legs.
DJ leaned down and hugged them both. She still felt like hugging the whole world. “So how’d school go?”
“We was sad. We won’t go there anymore.” The two ran their sentences together as if one person were speaking.
“But we had a party. Mommy brought cupcakes and juice.”
DJ glanced up at her mother.
Lindy smiled back. “After all, it was their last day.”
A tiny spear tried to penetrate DJ’s heart, but she blinked it away. One thought made it through. Since when does my mother do cupcakes? She quickly looked back down at the boys. “Bet you had fun. Chocolate frosting, right?”
“How’d you know?” Both sets of eyes went round.
“I’m smart.” DJ tapped her temple.
Two pairs of fists hit hips. The boys tipped their heads. Did some puppet master pull strings for both of them at the same moment?
DJ tickled one, then the other. “You’ve got frosting on your shirt, B.”
They both looked at the spot on one boy’s chest and broke out in giggles.
Robert appeared in the doorway. “Now, if this isn’t a Kodak moment. Wish I had a camera.”
The boys ran to him, telling him all that DJ said and did.
Robert looked at her over the boys’ heads. His smile felt like a hug.
“You better hustle.” Lindy wave
d a wooden spoon at DJ, then turned back to stirring something on the stove.
“I’m going.” DJ bounded up the stairs. “Do I have time for a shower?” she called over her shoulder.
As her mother’s “yes” floated up, DJ hit the bathroom at warp speed.
After dinner was finished and Robert was putting away the Bible from devotions, he said, “Can you have your chores done by 9:00 on Saturday morning, DJ?”
“Why?” DJ paused in the act of pushing back her chair.
“ ’Cause we’s going to the zoo!” the boys shouted.
DJ flashed a look at her mother.
Lindy nodded. “We thought since Robert can finally take a day off, we would do something as a family.”
“Is that a problem?” Robert asked.
But I always spend Saturday at the Academy! While her mind screamed the words, DJ glanced from Robert to her smiling mother. So much for a perfect day.
Chapter • 9
“But I … I always spend Saturday at the Academy.”
“Are you teaching any lessons that day?” Robert asked.
DJ shook her head. “But I was hoping to get the farrier scheduled. Major has a loose shoe, and Bridget wants me to start work with a new horse and …”
“Did you set a time for that?” Robert laid a hand on Lindy’s when she started to say something.
DJ wished she could tell a white lie and say yes, but Gran had taught her well God’s opinion on liars. So she shook her head again.
“Then, how soon can you be ready to leave that morning?”
DJ knew how a mouse felt when the cat pounced.
“Don’t you want to go to the zoo with us?” The boy on her right looked up with puppy dog eyes.
“No, I mean … that’s not what I mean. I …”
“We want you to go.” The little eyes on her left tore her heart in two. When the twins ganged up on her like that, she wanted to scream. She made the mistake of looking at her mother.
Lindy’s eyebrows nearly met in the center, divided only by two deep, vertical slashes.
High Hurdles Collection Two Page 7