High Hurdles Collection Two
Page 65
“You want to go again?” Robert took back the half-empty bottle.
“They look awful big, huh?”
“You aren’t just a-foolin’. See ya.”
DJ rode out so she could keep moving. They had mountains to jump.
Tony cantered out of the ring without the fatal crack. “It’s you and me, DJ, just like I said it would be.”
This round they would be timed with only eight jumps and a change of direction.
While she’d never been timed competitively before, DJ felt as calm as if she’d just been riding for pleasure. She patted Herndon’s neck, took in a deep breath, and let it out. They were off. Cantering smoothly, they took each jump as if they were having the time of their lives—which they were. Count, forward and lift off, sail, and touch down. At the brush she heard a tick but kept on. The bar stayed in place and they finished with a perfect round.
“Close, big horse. That was close.”
Tony touched a finger to the brim of his helmet. “Don’t make it easy for me.”
“I didn’t.”
The applause told her if the lack of a hoof cracking a bar hadn’t— Tony jumped a perfect round.
“These two are having too much fun out here,” the announcer said. “But the bars go up to four feet, six inches with a wider spread. How high can these kids go?”
DJ wondered the same thing. Herndon grunted when he leaped for the wall, but he cleared it and snorted when he landed. DJ looked ahead and refused to panic. So what if the brush jump fell? But it didn’t. They jumped a clean round again with good time.
The crowd went wild. DJ’s heart raced as if to leap out of her mouth. “We did it, big horse, we did it! Thank you, Lord Jesus, we did it.” Her legs felt like weak string. Her hands itched inside her gloves where the sweat had puddled.
The announcer called for Tony. A hush fell. The sound of his horse’s hooves thudded through the sand. He cleared jumps one and two, then on to the next. DJ heard the crack on the third bar of the in and out, and it toppled to the ground. The crowd groaned. DJ groaned.
Tony cantered out of the ring and toward her. “You did it this time, DJ, but I’ll take the next one, you just watch.” His grin said he meant every word.
The crowd went wild when DJ and Tony trotted back into the arena to pick up their ribbons.
“These two do the Briones Academy proud, folks, wouldn’t you say? They both train with Bridget Sommersby, and you can tell she coaches them well. DJ Randall on Herndon in first place, followed by Tony Andrada on Xavier in second. Our third place ribbon goes to …”
DJ didn’t hear the rest. She could see her two dads jumping up and down, yelling at the top of their lungs. The rest of the family was on their feet, clapping and shouting. DJ waved and shook the hand of the presenter.
She looked at Tony. “One day the Olympics.”
“You got it. The Olympics.” They trotted out of the ring together.
Epilogue
DJ Randall looked out over the sea of faces, the spotlights blinding her.
The higher center block held the riders from Germany, winners of the gold medal for the third time in a row. She glanced up to catch the smile of Helmut von Friedrichs. Her heart skipped a beat like it always did when he smiled at her.
Beside her on the right side, the silver side, clustered her teammates. Two points from the gold—that’s all they’d missed it by. She’d done her part, though. She and her horse, His Honor, won the Grand Prix, show jumping.
The members of the French team stood on the bronze block.
Sweat trickled down DJ’s back. It had been so hot, a big problem for the teams. Both horses and riders suffered from the heat and humidity, as did all the other Olympic contenders.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the medal winners of the Equestrian events.”
The official hung the ribbons with gold medals around the necks of the German team, and their national anthem echoed through the stadium. DJ shifted so she could reach up and take Helmut’s hand. He squeezed back, tears streaming down his face, facing forward for all the world to see.
When the music finished, the names of the Americans were called. While the list didn’t include Tony Andrada or Hilary Jones, DJ knew they were both out in the crowd. She bent her neck to accept the silver medal. As she felt it settle in around her neck, she lifted her head, tears blinding her eyes, and put her shoulders back. She’d done it. They’d done it. An Olympic medal. The dream had begun as a little girl.
“Thank you, Father,” she whispered. “Thank you far more than I can say.”
She turned to look again at Helmut. In two weeks they would be married. Although she never would have believed it before, that gold ring was now more important to her than Olympic Gold. She felt a shiver begin in her toes and work its way up. “Way to go, God!”