Hearing the shuffle of feet at the end of the hall, she glanced up, expecting to see Mrs. Grigoryan. Instead, her father appeared in the doorway. He was dressed in a business suit and a pair of leather slippers, with his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose and a sheaf of papers in one hand.
“Dad,” Tommi said. “What are you doing here?”
Her father took a step forward. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? It’s my house, isn’t it?” He grinned and winked.
Tommi rolled her eyes. So her dad was in one of his goofy, playful moods. That probably meant he’d just closed some huge business deal or taken over another company or something.
Just then Court burst out of the powder room, still fastening her beaded belt. “Whew! My bladder’s feeling much better now. I—oh! Hi, Mr. A.” Court grinned sheepishly as she saw Tommi’s father standing there. “What’s up?”
“Hello, Courtney.” Tommi’s father nodded to her. “Haven’t seen you around much lately. Keeping yourself busy this summer, are you?”
“Trying.” Court shrugged, then stepped over and linked her arm through Tommi’s. “Trying to keep Tommi a little busier, too—I just spent all morning trying to talk her into riding down to help Brooke move onto campus this weekend.”
“Shut up,” Tommi hissed at her.
Too late. She could see her father’s eyes light up. “Campus?” he echoed. “What are you talking about? Thomasina? What’s she talking about?”
“It’s nothing, Dad,” Tommi said. “Brooke’s getting ready to start college down at Penn, and Court and a couple of other people are going along to help her move in.”
“And Tommi’s invited, too,” Court put in. “Only we can’t convince her to take one measly weekend off from her horses. Maybe you can talk some sense into her, Mr. A?”
“I see.” Mr. Aaronson was still gazing intently at Tommi. “Tommi didn’t mention it to me.”
Tommi gritted her teeth, already planning out the various forms of horrible torture she had in store for Court later. There was a reason she hadn’t told her father about the trip—she knew he’d get all college rah-rah and insist she go. And she had a feeling he was about to demonstrate that.
“It’s just that I’m not sure I have time right now,” she began. “We leave for the Washington Crossing show next week, and Legs—”
“Nonsense,” her father cut her off. “It’s only two days, and—”
“Three, actually,” Court broke in. “We’re leaving Friday morning and coming back sometime on Monday.”
Normally Tommi’s father hated being interrupted. But he just smiled and nodded. “Even better,” he said. “It’ll be good for you to take a break from the horses for a weekend, Thomasina. See what other options are out there if this little experiment of yours doesn’t work out. Or even if it does, for that matter.”
“But Legs—”
“Is a horse,” her father said. “And one that pricey trainer of yours is perfectly capable of riding for you if he needs it.” He reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll let Mrs. Grigoryan know you won’t be here for dinners this weekend. In fact, it may be a good time to give her a weekend off—your stepmother and I can eat out for a few days.” He smiled. “Nice seeing you again, Courtney.”
“You too, Mr. A,” Court said. Tommi shot her a glare, but Court just grinned back at her. “Great, so you’re going,” she singsonged as Tommi’s father hurried away. “Better start packing.”
“What’s wrong with his feet?” Summer asked.
Kate set down the horse’s hoof and gave him a pat before answering. “He’s got a little thrush,” she said with as much patience as she could. She straightened up and stretched before capping the bottle of Thrush Buster. Her shoulders were sore thanks to the pair of rowdy ponies she’d just brought in from turnout.
“Oh. What’s thrush?”
Kate gritted her teeth, mentally counting to ten before answering this time. How had Summer managed to own horses for years without learning the most basic things about them? Then again, paying attention to that sort of stuff would eat up valuable gossiping and bragging time …
Normally Kate found Summer pretty easy to ignore, but today it was a challenge. Summer had been following Kate around for the past fifteen minutes, prattling on about her stupid Sweet Sixteen party. Kate was pretty sure it was only because none of the other juniors were around, but that didn’t make it any easier to take. She had a ton to do as usual, even though she’d arrived extra early that morning.
Which was part of the problem, actually. Kate was always eager to get to the barn. But that morning she’d been even more eager to get away from her house, which was still pretty much a war zone. That was why she’d set her alarm for 5:00 a.m. and sneaked out before her parents were awake. Her brother? She had no idea if he was awake or even at home. All she knew was that there’d been no sound from his basement bedroom as she tiptoed around, getting ready to go.
“Well?” Summer sounded impatient.
Kate stifled a yawn, realizing she was drifting. What had Summer asked her again? Something stupid, no doubt …
“Never mind, I don’t care,” Summer went on before Kate could dredge up the answer. “Anyway, did I tell you? I’m thinking of getting Whiskey a little pink tux that matches the dress I’m wearing for my party. Doesn’t that sound cute?”
“Hmm,” Kate said, feeling on safer ground. As long as Summer was talking about herself, she didn’t usually bother to notice whether anyone was paying attention. Unhooking the horse from the cross-ties, she led him toward his stall nearby.
Summer drifted along beside her. “I was actually thinking about asking everyone to wear white to the party—you know, so my dress would really stand out. It’s pink, you know. Mom hired Chelly Swain to design it for me.”
She paused, seeming to expect a response to that. Kate finished hooking the horse’s stall guard, then forced a smile. “Really?” she said.
“You know who she is, right?” Summer said. “I mean, she’s only the hottest new fashion designer in New York!” She shrugged. “But anyway, my dad talked me out of the white thing. He said it would be too hard to convince so many people to do it. I mean, there will probably be at least, like, three hundred guests.”
“Wow,” Kate said, since Summer had paused again.
“Yeah,” Summer said, following as Kate headed toward the tack room. “It’s going to be huge. Lots of celebrities and VIPs and stuff. But don’t worry, even you will probably know a bunch of people, since I invited the whole barn.”
Kate forced a smile. She wasn’t even sure she’d bother to go to the party. Fitz seemed interested—he said it was sure to be a spectacle—but shows were always so busy, and Kate would have tons to do. Why waste time watching Summer show off her parents’ money?
As if on cue, Fitz appeared at the end of the aisle. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” he exclaimed, hurrying over and wrapping his arms around Kate.
“Aw, so sweet!” Summer simpered.
Fitz shot her a grin. “Hey, Summer, not to be rude, but Kate and I need a moment. If you know what I mean.” Leaning down, he nibbled gently on Kate’s earlobe.
“Of course!” Summer giggled. “See you guys later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“No promises.” Fitz grinned and gave Kate another squeeze.
Summer hurried off, and Fitz dragged Kate into the tack room. “Look,” Kate said, pushing away from him. “This isn’t the best time. I’m supposed to be lungeing that new import horse right now.”
“No, you’re not.” Fitz stepped over to the wall and grabbed a bridle off one of the hooks. “I asked Miguel to take care of it. Because you’ve got something much more important to do. And you’ve made me wait long enough already.”
Kate’s tired mind immediately flashed to that awkward, confusing night in the hay stall. She should have known he wouldn’t wait forever; he wasn’t the patient type …
&nbs
p; Then she shook her head, realizing that didn’t make sense. If Fitz was looking to fool around right now, why had he just pulled one of his saddles off its rack?
“Here, carry this for a sec,” Fitz said, shoving the bridle at her.
Kate took it, watching as he balanced his Delgrange saddle on one hip while digging through his tack trunk. It was a mess, as usual.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Looking for Beacon’s old splint boots,” he said, his voice muffled due to the fact that his head was halfway in the trunk. “I think they should fit Flame.”
“Flame?” Kate echoed, her mind moving like molasses.
Fitz’s head popped out, displaying a big grin. “Found ’em,” he said, holding up a pair of dusty horse boots. “And yeah, Flame. He’s had enough time to settle in. Today we’re going to see what he can do!”
Kate opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. She could tell by the look in Fitz’s eye that it was no use. Besides, she had to admit that Flame really did seem pretty well settled in already. Almost as if he’d always been there. Why wait?
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go see what he can do.”
There was nobody in the smaller of the two outdoor rings except a barn cat sunning itself on the mounting block. Kate stopped Flame just outside the gate as Fitz stepped forward to undo the latch. The chestnut stood with his head up and his ears swiveling back and forth as he took in the sights. Kate jiggled the reins lightly to remind him that she was there.
“What do you think, boy?” she murmured. “It’s just a ring—just like the one at your old barn.”
“Only bigger, right? Maybe he thinks it’s a really small racetrack,” Fitz joked as he swung the gate open. “He’s probably looking for the starting gate.”
Flame followed Kate into the ring without hesitation, still looking around with obvious interest. When he spotted the cat he surged forward, stretching his neck as he nosed curiously at it. The cat drew back with a look of disgust, then jumped down and ran off.
“Aw, Flame’s just trying to make friends!” Fitz called after it with a laugh. Then he turned to Kate. “Ready to hop up there?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Kate clicked the snap on her helmet, then slid a hand under Flame’s girth to make sure it was snug.
Fitz gave her a leg up, then stepped back. “You okay? I’ll be over there.” He waved a hand in the direction of the gate.
Kate barely noticed him walking away. All her focus was on the horse beneath her. She’d ridden hundreds of different horses in her riding career so far, but this moment never got old. Those very first few minutes on a new one, the first chance to figure out how to communicate with another individual with a whole new set of quirks and preferences and training. She loved that moment. Loved it.
“Walk on,” she murmured, with a tiny pulse of her calves on the horse’s sides.
Flame’s ears flicked back to her, and he stepped off into a forward, ground-covering walk. Kate kept her hands soft, mostly using shifts of her weight to steer him over to the rail.
“Gooooood,” she crooned, pleased with how he was responding so far. She let her body follow the motion of his walk, making one loop of the ring and then turning around to do it in the other direction.
“Let’s see him trot!” Fitz called out after a few minutes.
She shot him a look and nodded. She was eager to try the faster gait herself. “Trrrrrot,” she said, asking Flame to move out with a whisper of pressure from both legs.
This time Flame hesitated, once again flicking his ears toward her as if confirming what she was asking. When she squeezed again, a little harder this time, he surged forward into the trot. At first his head was high and his gait was rushed and tense, as if he was expecting her to grab his mouth at any moment. Kate couldn’t blame him. At that show where Kate had first seen the horse, Nat had spent most of her time in the ring hauling back on both reins to keep Flame from running over the short-strided ponies in there with him.
“E-e-e-easy, baby,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Easy.”
She kept her hands light, not taking up any contact on the bit at all at first, doing only as much as she had to do to keep him on the rail. By the time they made it halfway around the ring, Flame was already starting to relax. His ears flicked back and forth as his gait slowed, lengthened, and gained cadence. His head dropped, his neck stretching forward and his nose poking out as his hooves skimmed gracefully over the footing.
Kate smiled, posting effortlessly with the horse’s long, flowing stride. Flame’s trot felt just as good as it looked. And that was saying something.
After they’d gone around the ring once each direction to warm up, she started working him a little harder, doing some circles and figure eights and a few baby lateral movements. He didn’t always understand what she was asking for on the first try, but he obviously wanted to figure it out. By the time Kate asked him to canter, the two of them were working together as if this were their hundredth ride instead of their first.
“Good boy!” Kate cried as she brought the horse down from the right lead canter. The depart had been a little rougher than the one to the left, the canter a little speedy, but that was to be expected with a former racehorse. And once he was in it, the gait had been just as fluid as the rest.
She was leaning forward to give Flame a pat when she noticed that Tommi had joined Fitz at the rail. Riding toward them, Kate let the reins slide to the buckle so Flame could stretch his head down and relax.
“Is this your first time on him?” Tommi asked when Kate and Flame got closer.
“Yeah,” Fitz answered before Kate could open her mouth. “Isn’t she doing great? I swear, Kate could ride the hair off a rhinoceros!”
Tommi nodded, never taking her eyes off Flame. “That horse is no rhinoceros,” she said. “I mean, you can tell he doesn’t know much. But check out the way he moves!”
“I know.” Kate gave Flame another pat as he snuffled at Tommi over the fence, clearly looking for treats. “It’s obvious from the first step, isn’t it?”
“To you geniuses, maybe.” Fitz grinned. “Good thing I had the most beautiful and talented rider in the tristate area with me to help me see it that first time.”
Tommi snorted. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” she asked Fitz. “Kate already seems to tolerate you, so you probably don’t need the flattery.”
Kate could feel Flame getting restless, so she nudged him back into a walk and then a trot, leaving Fitz and Tommi bickering happily at the rail. She didn’t want to overdo it on their very first ride, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt to do a little more trot work and then call it a day.
When she pulled up again a few minutes later, she was grinning from ear to ear. “You are such a good boy,” she whispered to the horse, rubbing his neck with both hands as she leaned forward to swing her leg over and dismount. She was on the ground running up her stirrups when she saw that Jamie had now joined Tommi and Fitz. The trainer was leaning on the arena fence, his astute blue eyes focused on Flame.
“What do you think?” Kate asked him as she led the horse over.
“He’s got potential, definitely.” Jamie reached over to rub the horse’s face. “Like I told Fitz, you’ve got a good eye, Kate. If this guy jumps half as nicely as he moves, he’ll make a hunter for sure.”
Fitz nodded. “Maybe next time we can pop him over a crossrail or two. You know—just to see what we’ve got.”
“Maybe.” Kate shot a look at Jamie as he swung open the gate. Did he really think Flame had what it took to be a top hunter?
Even the thought of it made it a little easier to forget that she still hadn’t heard from Natalie. Easier to ignore the flash of guilt every time she remembered how proud Nat had been of her new project at the show that day.
Because despite all of it, Kate couldn’t help being glad—really glad—that Flame was here.
Chapter Five
Zara’s nerves ja
ngled as she climbed out of the car. “Thanks, dude,” she said to the driver, a swarthy little guy who’d hummed tunelessly the entire way from SoHo to Pelham Lane, though the radio wasn’t even on. Annoying, but Zara had been too distracted to notice much. “Just hang out here and wait for me, okay?” she told him. “I’ll be a couple of hours, probably.”
“You got it, miss.” The driver pulled out a copy of the Post and leaned back in his seat, already starting up with the humming again.
Zara closed the door behind her, not bothering to calculate how much it was going to cost to keep the hired car there while she rode. A lot more than having Stacie drop her off and then pick her up, but whatever. That fell under the umbrella of Not Her Problem.
She was heading toward the barn when she noticed a cluster of people up by one of the outdoor rings. One of those people was Jamie.
“Here goes nothing, I guess,” Zara muttered under her breath, changing directions.
She’d spent most of the drive up here trying to plan out what she was going to say to her trainer. Jamie was a tough one to read. He could be a real hardass sometimes. Most of the time, actually.
Then again, he kept giving Zara chances when even she wasn’t sure she deserved them. Like the time she’d been caught smoking in one of the outbuildings. The various times she’d been late or mouthed off in lessons. The time he’d found her getting busy in a stall with one of the part-time muckers.
And of course there was the thing with that horse Ford. But that was different. Jamie didn’t know she’d had anything to do with that. He seemed to actually believe Fitz’s story. Go figure.
She pushed that aside as Jamie turned and saw her coming. “Zara,” he said.
“Hi,” Zara blurted out. “Listen, Jamie, I’m really sorry about missing yesterday’s lesson. See, my mom decided to fly home from Vancouver for a surprise visit, and I guess I just totally spaced. I’m really, really sorry—I swear it won’t happen again.”
Off Course Page 5