High Hurdles Collection Two

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Amen. Thanks.” DJ sniffed again and sighed.

  Surely this would make a difference, but how soon?

  Chapter • 6

  By Friday afternoon DJ figured she was caught up to about Wednesday. Maybe.

  “At least I’m not showing this weekend.” Major flicked his ears back and forth, listening to her, yet keeping track of everything going on around them. All the Western riders in the barns were buzzing around like yellow-jackets at a picnic, washing horses, cleaning tack, last-minute clipping and grooming. “And at least the show isn’t clear over in Palo Alto or something. That will be next weekend.” She shivered as she thought of the big show. “How come the butterflies still get to me?”

  Major shook his head and tried to nuzzle her ear when she wiped down his face.

  “Better get the fly guards out, huh? They’ve been at your eyes.”

  He nosed her pockets, hoping for more treats.

  “You already ate them, you big moose. My pockets are too small for as many goodies as you want.”

  He sighed, blowing carrot breath in her face.

  “Get real. You are not abused, not one bit.” She slipped the bridle in place, fastened the throat latch, then unhooked the gate and led him out of the stall. They threaded their way between all the activity and headed for the ring to warm up. Their class was due in the jumping ring, ready to go in fifteen minutes.

  “DJ?”

  She turned at the call from the other barn door. Angie’s mother waved and headed across the graveled lot. “I just wanted to thank you for how well you handled Angie’s emergency the other day. I took her into the doctor, and he put her on antibiotics—again. If we could just keep her from catching other people’s germs.”

  “It wasn’t something from here at the barns, then?”

  “No, bronchitis. But we caught it right away and she feels fine again. Of course, prednisone is always a big help.”

  DJ breathed a sigh of relief. “It made me afraid for her to be in a show-ring, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.” Major nudged her between the shoulder blades.

  “I fight those kinds of fears all the time, but I know that for her sake, she has to be allowed to do whatever she feels she can—like showing her horse. She sure does love that animal and being here with all of you.”

  “I’m glad. She’s a neat kid and is becoming a good rider.” Major nudged her again.

  “Well, thanks again. You’re her idol, you know. She wants to be like DJ.” Mrs. Lincoln turned back to the barn, so DJ opened the gate and entered the ring. The warm glow went from her heart to her face and stayed there.

  When Tony and Hilary joined her, they all warmed their horses up around the ring with a walk, trot, canter, and over the cavalletti. Bridget entered the ring a few minutes later and stood in the center, waiting for their attention. “All right,” she said after a greeting. “Today I would like you to change horses. DJ, you take Hilary’s. Tony, you on Major. And Hilary on Tony’s horse. When you are ready, work your new mount around the ring a few times to become accustomed to a different horse. Do some circles and serpentines and go over the cavalletti, and then we will begin with low jumps.”

  DJ could feel her neck and shoulders tighten up. She dismounted and smiled at Hilary. “Got any instructions for me?”

  “No, not really. Jupiter is a willing horse like Major, but he likes a firm, steady hand. He’ll go for you.”

  DJ adjusted the stirrup leathers and mounted, settling herself not only on a strange horse but in a different saddle. She did as Bridget had ordered, feeling out Jupiter’s responses and praying she wouldn’t make a mistake. While she’d ridden lots of other horses, she hadn’t jumped them. That was the biggest difference.

  “DJ, you are behind. Use your aids,” Bridget’s voice cut into her concentration.

  Come on, Randall, get with it. Her little voice sounded like a drill instructor in her ear.

  Jupiter took the low jumps like they weren’t even there. DJ counted the paces, but no matter what, he seemed to scoot out from under her. Sure she was behind, and it didn’t look like she would catch up. She glanced at Major, who rocked along like clockwork.

  Bridget raised the rails. Three, two, one, up and over.

  Jupiter quit. He slid right into the fence, knocking the rails down with his chest and upper leg. DJ ended up on his neck, but at least she kept her stirrups and reins. She could feel her face blazing hot and knew the red could be seen for a mile or two.

  Bridget came to replace the rails. “Now you see what I mean about your aids. Keep him between your hands and legs. He felt your hesitation and figured the ground was safer than the jump. You have to ride these other horses. You cannot be just a passenger.”

  DJ wanted to ride out of the ring and keep on going. Didn’t she know anything about jumping? Instead, she cantered Jupiter around the ring again, settled them both, and returned to the jump. She counted the paces, kept her hands and legs firm but soft, and shifted her weight forward at just the right moment.

  Jupiter sailed over the jump. With no time to cheer, she focused on the jump ahead like she knew she should and continued the round. At the finish, she felt like applauding.

  Instead, Tony and Hilary did it for her.

  “Not perfect, but you came together.” Bridget had the others jump with their new mounts, and then the three took back their own horses.

  “That was great.” Tony patted Major’s neck. “He is a good horse, DJ. Even when I glanced over at you, Major didn’t shift; he just took the jump like a veteran.”

  “Thanks.” DJ handed Jupiter’s reins back to Hilary. “I’m sorry I made him quit like that.”

  “No problem. Not the first time that’s happened, and it won’t be the last. But you learned from it, huh?”

  “Sure did. I’ve got a long way to go, that’s for sure.”

  “Yeah, well, we all begin somewhere, and you really have come a long way for the short time you’ve been jumping. It’s funny, but when things finally click for you, it’s like, ‘Why did I not get it sooner?’ You’ll get there—and soon, I bet.”

  “Thanks.” DJ patted Major’s neck and smiled up at Hilary.

  “All right, now go around again on your own horse and put into practice what you learned.”

  DJ mounted and did as told. When would she click? And what was it she was missing out on?

  “So your girls are all ready?” Bridget asked as DJ was about to leave the ring.

  “Pretty close. They sure remind me of Amy and me back when we were beginning. Talk about gigglers. Were we that bad?”

  Bridget shook her head. “You were not gigglers, but I seem to remember some wild water fights on the wash rack.” Hearing shrieks from that general vicinity, they smiled at each other.

  “Sometimes I feel positively old.” DJ patted Major’s sweaty neck.

  “You always have been mature for your age. In my mind, that is one reason for your success. That and your extreme dedication.”

  “Extreme?” DJ kept patting Major, nearly afraid to look at her coach.

  “Extreme. That is what it takes, ma petite, to go where you want to go. Watch your concentration. And watch your horse and the next jump. Always the next jump. Focus, focus, focus.”

  “Sheesh, that’s what Robert tells me about algebra, too. You think there’s a message in this somewhere?” She knew she was bordering on smart mouth, but she couldn’t resist.

  Bridget nodded and smiled. “Could be. See that you learn it.” She gave DJ a pat on the knee, but that was nothing to the pats she’d given to her pupil’s confidence.

  DJ stared after her coach. Focus and quit daydreaming at the wrong times. She’d gotten in trouble for that enough this week. “Thanks, Bridget,” she whispered. The rare compliments from Bridget were something to be savored, like the hot-fudge sundaes with Joe and Amy. “God, I sure am a lucky kid. Thanks a ton.” Her whispered prayer set Major’s ears to flicking as he edged toward the barn. “Hungry,
huh? Well, so am I, so let’s get you cooled down and fed.”

  “How’re things going, DJ?” Bunny Ellsindorf, one of the adult jumpers, called as she rode toward the outdoor jumping arena.

  “Great. Just remind me of that tomorrow when my girls are in the ring and I’m having a nervous breakdown.”

  “I hear you. Joe said I could ride with you to Palo Alto next week. Is that all right?”

  “Sure. I better get going. See ya.”

  Why’d she ask me? It’s Joe s truck and trailer, after all. Maybe you didn’t make her feel too welcome that last time. The little voice must have been catching some Zs; she hadn’t been nagged at for a while. “I sure hope that wasn’t it.” She had to get better at hiding her feelings, and being polite was more important than being comfortable, according to her grandmother. After all, Bunny had been really nice to DJ in the last months, and to everyone else, now that DJ thought about it. Maybe Bunny’s early weirdness had been because of moving and all that, as Joe had suggested.

  DJ shook her head. Too many things to figure out—and now she could be accused of daydreaming again. Were daydreaming and trying to figure things out in the same category?

  Showing was easier than coaching, on the nerves, anyway. DJ paced the side of the ring as her three students rode in, one after the other. Would Angie be all right? DJ knew that tension could bring on an asthma attack. Would Krissie’s horse behave? Did any of them have even a chance of placing?

  She wished she’d stayed home in bed.

  “Easy, ma petite. You have done your work well with them. Now it is their turn. You must learn to relax. Otherwise you will communicate your tension to them, much like you do to a horse.”

  “Easier said than done,” DJ muttered.

  “I know.” For once Bridget didn’t get on her case for a comment that wasn’t exactly positive. “Watching is always hard. Your two fathers nearly tore their programs in shreds when you were in the ring last week.”

  “They did?” DJ could feel her mouth drop.

  Bridget smiled and pointed to the ring. “See how well the girls are doing. You might warn Krissie about crowding the rider ahead of her. She has a tendency to get in a hurry.” Together they watched the riders circle the ring. Since it was a huge class, the chances of her three charges placing were slim.

  “If Angie can keep her asthma under control, she will become a fine rider. She has a natural grace and good hands.”

  DJ felt as though she’d been given a compliment for herself. She’d felt the same way about Angie, and knowing Bridget agreed built her confidence in her own judgment.

  “Oh no.” DJ’s groan made the lady in front of her turn to look. DJ shrugged at her and nibbled her bottom lip. Krissie’s horse had refused to slow from a lope to a walk. And the judge had been looking right at them.

  When the girls left the arena with both Angie and Samantha carrying ribbons, DJ felt like melting into the wood riser. Bridget patted her knee and rose to go check on something. DJ knew she could relax now until trail-riding. Except for Amy’s classes—and there she cheered rather than stewed.

  By the end of the day, the Western riders of Briones Academy had garnered ribbons of every color, including a couple of multicolored rosettes, several trophies, tack, grooming supplies, feed, and gift certificates to various horse supply places in the area. Amy and Josh looked good with a red, white, and blue rosette attached to his headstall. While Joe didn’t place, he and Ranger didn’t make any obvious mistakes like in their first show, where Ranger had spooked and jumped halfway across the arena.

  “Here.” Amy handed DJ her camera. “It’s all set, just point and shoot. I got some real fun ones of kids and horses earlier.” Amy mounted Josh and smiled at the camera. “Take two and don’t move the camera this time.”

  “Sheesh, you want perfection or something?”

  “Yes, and a good picture.”

  DJ braced her elbows on her chest, sucked in a breath like she’d seen Amy do, and at the moment her air was all gone, depressed the button.

  “Good.” Amy dismounted and led Josh over to exchange reins for camera. “Did you see Krissie’s dad taking videos? I hope he got her when her horse swirled his tail and refused the walk. She needs to see what she did wrong.”

  “He carries his head pretty high, too. She must be keeping his reins too tight, but if she loosens them, he picks up speed.” DJ turned to look at her friend. “You know what? You should be the one teaching these girls. You’re the one who rides and shows Western, not me.”

  Amy put the cap on the lens of her camera. “But I don’t teach and you do. You forget that? Would you rather clean stalls?”

  “No.” The two of them walked back to where the horses were being loaded. Mr. Yamamoto had the ramp down for the Briones six-horse trailer. With two horses already loaded, he was waiting for Amy.

  “So what are you doing tomorrow?” Amy stripped her saddle off and threw the traveling sheet over her horse. Together they snapped all the buckles.

  “As little as possible. Gran is having us all over to her house after church. Then I get to finish my homework, including—are you ready—a book report. Ta-da! Which I have not read, at least not more than half. So does that answer your question?”

  “Uh-huh. I was hoping we could get some more packets assembled. We have the meeting after school with the business group on Wednesday.” She led Josh up into the trailer, tied him, and returned. “I have some more pictures we need to think about. You gotten any new drawings done?”

  DJ shook her head. “No time. I have to check on the girls, and then I’ll be right back.”

  “They’ve already left,” Mr. Yamamoto said. “You two get in the truck so I don’t lose you again.” He beckoned another horse to be led in, then they slammed the ramp shut.

  The week passed in a blur. The kids at the business club meeting Wednesday were really pumped about DJ and Amy’s business and asked them to make up sample packets consisting of one of each card. They planned on calling on gift and card shops to see if they could expand the local market. They also planned to call the business writer at the Contra Costa Times, the local newspaper, and see if she’d like to run an article on the two young entrepreneurs.

  One committee would be working on a business plan for them, another on pricing for cheaper printing and assembling.

  DJ and Amy rushed out of the meeting and to the Academy without time to think or talk or DJ would be late for her lesson.

  When DJ arrived home, Maria had taken over the kitchen. “Buenos dias,” she called. “Dinner in half an hour.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “At the doctor’s.”

  DJ stopped halfway up the stairs to her room and came back down to the kitchen instead. “Is she sick?”

  “No, checkup. Mr. Crowder, he go with her.” “Oh. And the boys?”

  “At your abuella’s… er, grandmother’s house. All be back soon.” Strange, DJ thought on her way up the stairs. It’s as if she’s lived here all the time, but she just came back this morning.

  Saturday morning the birds were just beginning their morning muttering when DJ staggered into the bathroom. The shower on full force brought her alert. When Joe drove in, she was waiting at the door.

  “Have a good day,” her mother called.

  “Thanks, you too.” The rest of the family was going to help Andy and Sonja get DJ’s old house ready to move into. They were painting the inside and working on the yard.

  Joe, DJ, and Bunny crossed the San Mateo bridge with the sun just beginning to pink the western hills, but the showgrounds were in full bustle already. The line of trucks and trailers waiting to gain the parking lot extended down the block.

  “So is your friend Sean going to be here today?” Joe asked.

  DJ nodded. “There was a message from him on the answering machine. I had to call and apologize for mixing up the show dates. We’ve been playing telephone tag mostly.” She turned to Bunny. “I met Sean at the dr
awing class I took with the artist Isabella Gant in San Francisco. He lives over here.”

  “With your schedule, it’s a wonder anyone ever gets a chance to talk with you,” Joe added.

  “Less than three weeks until school is out. I can’t wait.”

  “I can just see you sleeping in Major’s stall so you won’t miss time at the Academy.” Bunny waved at someone who’d waved first.

  “Hey, you think Mom would let me do that?” DJ gave Joe a big innocent-eyed look.

  “Dream on, kid. She thinks you live there now.”

  When they finally pulled into the parking lot, they took the slot next to Hilary’s rig.

  As usual, her flat classes were an exercise in doing her best at something she was doing only because it was good for her. While it took extreme effort, she gave each event in the ring her full attention. Focus was her motto. The good thing was they were going to jump in two afternoon events. Waiting for that took patience.

  Brad and Jackie arrived in time for lunch. “Sorry we couldn’t be here earlier,” Jackie said, handing DJ a pastrami sandwich and chips. Brad popped the top on a peach-flavored iced tea and handed it to her. “Joe says you’ve been doing a good job.”

  “I think my best. Major reminded me to just have fun and ignore the snobs. He’s in such good form and having a ball. Like a little kid playing in a sandbox. He doesn’t care about the other horses at all.”

  “Stormy says she misses you.” Brad wiped his mouth with a napkin. “She said to tell you to hurry up and get up there to play with her.” Stormy was the Arabian foal Brad had deeded to her after the winter foaling and flooding. He handed her a picture. “She’s growing like a weed and smart as they come.”