Half Halt (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 15)

by Claire Svendsen

  I settled for a plain bridle with a thin loose ring snaffle bit. I liked to start the horses out in something mild and then increase the hardware if they needed it. There was a pair of open front boots with stained sheepskin that looked like they would fit him so I snagged those as well.

  Despite his shaggy appearance and his reluctance to leave the trailer, he was quiet in the cross ties. He looked at me curiously as I tacked him up and I patted his neck and told him that he was a good boy, even though I didn’t know if he was or not.

  “So what is the plan?” I asked Dad when I took him out to the ring.

  He was just finishing up a semi private lesson, the two girls on chestnut hunters looking pretty and perfect with their matching ribbon belts and expensive helmets. Mine still had a slight scuff on it that I couldn’t get out after I fell off Socks. They hadn’t even broken a sweat. One of them looked at Encore and wrinkled her nose.

  “He’s new,” I said. “Cut him some slack.”

  She shrugged and they rode off to the barn without saying anything. Since the whole bullying episode, I’d been trying to develop some semblance of a backbone and stand up for myself. Dad said that I’d allowed myself to be a doormat and that people had walked over me for far too long. He said he was going to teach me how to be a man. I didn’t like to remind him that I wasn’t one.

  “We’re going to work him on the flat and then take him over some jumps,” he said. “The usual drill.”

  “Are you sure he even knows how to jump?” I said.

  I was up in the saddle and Encore was standing there like he was a plow horse. The anxiety he’d felt at being in a new place had worn off and now he just seemed tired.

  “Do you think I would ask you to jump him if he didn’t know how?” Dad said.

  I just shrugged. Everything about the horse was mysterious. I didn’t know where he’d come from or what his training or show record was. I didn’t know anything. All I knew was that so far he seemed kind of shy and it felt sort of mean to ask him to jump when he was clearly compromised in some way.

  I worked him on the flat as Dad rearranged the jumps. He was responsive but lazy. I wished I’d worn my spurs but after the unloading episode I was afraid that if I did, he might go into orbit. As it was I had trouble keeping him in the canter. He wanted to fall out into a ragged trot.

  “Dad?” I said. “Are you really sure you want me to jump him?”

  He had set up a couple of large cross rails on lines that led to verticals but there was an oxer in the corner that he’d raised to about four feet.

  “You need to stop questioning my judgment,” Dad said.

  “Okay but you don’t really expect him to jump that, do you?” I pointed at the oxer.

  “What do you think?” he said.

  I thought that my father had a few screws loose.

  CHAPTER SIX

  There was no way poor Encore was going to make it over that jump. I told myself that if he seemed like he was struggling at all, I’d pull up and tell my father to forget it. I wasn’t going to risk injuring myself or the poor new horse just because my father wanted to prove a point.

  I trotted him over the smallest cross rail, heart in my chest. He jumped it like a champ, his ears pricked as he cantered down to the first vertical. So far so good. We took the next line and I noticed a considerable spring in his step that hadn’t been there before. He cleared the fences with ease and seemed perky about it.

  “Now the oxer,” Dad said.

  I circled him and cantered towards it and suddenly it felt like I had a real horse beneath me. He was powerful, his stride opening as he saw the fence and prepared to jump it. I gave him his head, wanting to let him do his thing and not interfere. He soared over the jump and came sweetly back to a walk.

  “Wow,” I said. “Did you see that?”

  “I told you,” Dad said, looking pleased.

  “He’s so powerful. You can totally feel his scope.”

  “Tucks his knees up like a cat too,” Dad said.

  “Where on earth did you find him?”

  Dad walked past me, ignoring my question.

  “That’s enough for him today. Take him back to the barn and have one of the grooms give him a bath. Then later you can clip him if you like or I’ll have Henry do it.”

  “No, I want to,” I said, patting Encore on the neck. “Can I give him wings? Or zebra stripes?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Yes?” I said hopefully.

  “No.”

  “You’re no fun,” I said.

  Mickey and I had found this website where they had photos of horses with all these really cool clip jobs. There were horses that looked like giraffes and zebras and one that had these amazing wings cut into its coat. I thought Encore would have looked really stunning with wings, especially since it had turned out that he was this super-secret talented jumper. But Dad was boring. He said that those sorts of clip jobs were not professional, which still didn’t stop me from promising Bluebird that when his coat grew out, I’d sneak a little heart on him someplace where Dad wouldn’t see it.

  So Henry bathed Encore while I had my lunch and then I took him out to dry in the sun. He already seemed to have accepted that this was his new home. He didn't snort at the other horses or try and act silly on the end of his lead rope. It was like he was an old pro and considering the amazing jump he had, I just knew he’d been around the block a few times.

  “I’ll find out where you came from,” I told him. “Eventually.”

  It took four hours and two sets of clipper blades to get all his hair off. He stood there napping while I worked, his hair sticking to every sweaty orifice. It got down my shirt and inside my bra, which was pretty much like a special kind of torture. By the time I was done, Encore looked like a real horse that belonged at Fox Run and not dumped out in some field. But taking off all his hair had revealed some of his past. A couple of nasty scars trailed down his side where the hair had never grown back. I ran my fingers over them, wondering if they were from a whip.

  “What happened to you boy?” I asked him as I put him back in his stall.

  I held out my hand, offering him one of the apple treats that Arion and Socks liked so much but he just turned away from me. I thought it was the saddest thing in the whole world and vowed to make Encore my new special project. Not that I didn’t already have my own troublesome project horse that I was working on.

  “Your lesson starts in ten minutes,” Miss. Fontain said as she walked past. “Why aren’t you tacking your horse up?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be ready,” I said.

  “You’d better be.” She shook her head. “I’m not teaching you out of the kindness of my heart.”

  “I know,” I mumbled.

  Dressage may have seemed like it was all about looking pretty and dancing your horse across the arena but it turned out that the reality of it was far from that and lessons with Miss. Fontain were not for the faint of heart.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dad was the one who was making me take the dressage lessons. It wasn’t something that was particularly high on my to-do list but he said that it would only help to strengthen my riding and I guessed he was right. At the very least it couldn't hurt anyway. But Arion was getting more out of it than I was. Dad said that he needed a solid foundation before we started jumping him so three days a week, Miss. Fontain tortured us both out in the dressage ring. Today was one of those special days.

  “Ready to go round and round in circles until you are dizzy, Ari?” I asked my horse as I tacked him up.

  He snuffled my arm, looking for the treat that Encore hadn’t eaten.

  “You can have that after.” I pushed his nose away. “And only if you’re good.”

  During our last lesson our twenty meter circles had been anything but. They were egg shaped, lopsided ovals that had Miss. Fontain throwing up her hands in disgust just like she had done at Mickey and Hampton’s working trot. So far she hadn
’t even let us canter, which was fine by me. There was enough for her to criticize at the walk and the trot. Cantering would only open up a completely different can of worms since Arion had very strong views about his canter, mostly that it should really be a gallop instead.

  The dressage ring was smaller than the regular arena. A rectangle with no fence to keep you inside it and just letters on white traffic cones to let you know where you were. Dressage was nothing like jumping, which to me was like being set free. It was about control and respect and you didn’t ride a course, instead you rode a test like you were in school or in the army or something and each test had all these really confusing instructions like halt at X or between A and F working walk.

  During my first few lessons with Miss. Fontain, I’d been so distracted at looking where all the letters were and totally lost during my transitions that she made me learn this silly rhyme to remember where the letters were. All King Edwards Horses Can Manage Big Fences. I thought it was rather appropriate since I’d actually rather be jumping big fences than going round in circles. Of course it still didn’t stop me from getting totally distracted and lost when she yelled out something like free walk from K to H and I was left going desperately through the rhyme in my head and looking for the correct letters. And what was a free walk anyway? Arion thought it was an excuse to act silly and prance his way across the diagonal, flaunting how very good he was at airs above the ground. Miss. Fontain didn’t think it was very funny but I couldn't help laughing at his antics.

  “Are we ready to work today?” she asked as I walked him out to the ring right on time.

  “Yes,” I said. “And I took him out on the trail this morning so he should be nice and tired. I mean, nice and ready to work.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she said.

  Thirty minutes later, we’d just about destroyed every move. Obviously my youngster had a bottomless pit of energy and going out on the trail hadn’t done one bit of good whatsoever.

  “Half halt,” Miss. Fontain called out. “Half halt. Legs and hands together.”

  I could tell she was trying hard not to lose her temper but it wasn’t working. I used my legs and hands together like she’d asked but Arion thought half halt meant go straight up in the air like a springtime foal.

  “Oh just canter him already,” she yelled at us.

  I let up on the reins a little and my silly gray Thoroughbred took off, cantering down the long side and almost jumping over one of the cones. I let him go around the ring a few times and then reined him in and tried to make him canter in a circle. I thought it was a bit better than our trot ones but then again maybe I just didn’t notice the bulges because we were going so fast. When I asked him to walk he did so, shaking his head like he was the happiest horse in the whole world.

  “Well if the test said canter like a crazy horse and skidding halt wherever you feel like it then you’d get a great score,” Miss. Fontain said.

  “It doesn’t really matter, does it?” I asked, jumping off and loosening Arion’s girth. “I’m not going to be showing him in dressage. I’m just giving him a foundation.”

  “A shaky foundation,” she said. “He needs something to focus on.”

  “He’ll have jumps to focus on when he can figure out how to keep all his legs moving in the same direction,” I said.

  “Yes, well that’s probably for the best,” she said. “He doesn’t really have the temperament for dressage.”

  “Neither do I.” I laughed. “But Mickey does and she’s ready for her show, isn’t she?”

  We walked back to the barn side by side and it felt weird to be talking about my best friend behind her back but I had to know that she was ready and I wanted to be able to support her the best way I could and that meant finding out her weaknesses and her strengths.

  “She’ll be fine,” Miss. Fontain said. “She just needs to keep her focus.”

  “That’s never been her strong suit,” I said. “And she gets really nervous at shows. You should know that she always used to throw up right before she went in the hunter ring.”

  “Well let’s hope she fares better in a couple of weeks,” Miss. Fontain said. “I’m taking two other students to the show as well and I don’t have time to stand there and hold her hair back while she vomits into the rose bushes.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “That’s what I’ll be there for.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Back at the house, Owen and Missy were sleeping. She’d started bringing him down to the barn for a couple of hours a day so she could teach a few of her old groups while Owen slept. Only sometimes he didn’t sleep. He lay in his little bassinet screaming his head off while Missy tried to teach kids how to get into their two point position. It wasn’t really working out that well and Dad had told her so but she insisted that it would get better in time. I hoped so for everyone’s sake because it was super distracting to have a baby wailing while you were trying to ride.

  I went through to my room and closed the door. I still had a couple of hours of school work to do but instead I found myself looking at Mickey’s dressage test. It didn’t seem that hard. There was no reason why she couldn’t ace it. And Hampton looked every bit the part, like he was born to do dressage. He was a Warmblood after all. He had that big neck and thick body and when Mickey collected him, he got all puffed up and important looking. Dressage was in his blood. I was just thinking that most of what was in the test was stuff that Miss. Fontain had me working on with Arion when Mickey called.

  “I can’t do this,” she cried when I answered.

  “Do what?” I said. “The show?”

  “All of it. I’m supposed to remember the whole thing and I just know I’ll forget it and be a laughing stock.”

  “I have to remember whole jump courses in about ten minutes,” I said. “You’ve been working on this test for ages. You know it like the back of your hand and so does Hampton. He could do it in his sleep, blindfolded.”

  “But all those people will be watching me.”

  I didn’t like to tell her that no one would be watching. As far as I knew dressage shows were a pretty low key deal. It wasn’t like there was much exciting action for spectators and the only other people would be friends and family, who were mostly just there to cheer on their own rider.

  “I never should have agreed to go,” she said. “I’ll tell Miss. Fontain I’m not ready. I’ll go to the next one. She’ll be okay with that, right?”

  I laughed. “No she won’t and you are not backing out of the show. I’m coming with you and I’ll help you. I’ll even stand by the ring and call out your test if I have to.”

  “You will?” she said.

  “Of course, I told you I’m here to help you. Besides, it will be fun. All those fancy dressage princesses on their imported Warmbloods. I can’t wait to see how back stabby they all can be.”

  “You just got rid of one enemy and now you’re looking for a replacement?” Mickey said. “Don’t you think that’s a bit sick in the head?”

  “Not for me,” I said. “For you. You know, get you a rival. Some healthy competition.”

  “I don’t need healthy competition,” Mickey groaned.

  “Fine but you’re not backing out of the show. It is my responsibility as your best friend to make sure you go and I’m going to do exactly that.”

  “I thought your duty as best friend was to do whatever I wanted?” she said.

  I just laughed. “Don’t you know me at all?”

  “No, I know you.” She sighed. “And you’re right. My mom would kill me if I ducked out of this show at the last minute.”

  “Come on, I’ll make sure you have a good time. I promise.”

  “Alright.”

  “You should have seen how funny Ari was in our lesson today. Miss. Fontain was kind of mad. At least she likes you more than she likes me.”

  “Not by much,” Mickey said.

  I told her how Arion had pretty much messed up every dressa
ge move and yet still managed to enjoy himself. He was really coming into his own and was suddenly a very happy horse and curious about everything. It was like riding a four year old toddler who was always pointing and asking what things were. Just thinking about him made me smile. Then I told her about the new horse.

  “He finally arrived then?” she said.

  “Yeah, he was a total mess. He looked like some plough horse but you should have seen him jump.”

  “Where did he come from?” she said.

  “I don’t know. But I’m working on finding out.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  I figured that the best way to help Mickey was to learn her test myself. That way I’d know it like the back of my hand and I wouldn’t run the same chance of forgetting it that she had. I already knew that they allowed a helper to stand by the ring and call out the test but I wasn’t really sure if Mickey actually wanted me to do that or not. Either way I wanted to be ready. And working on a whole test instead of a bunch of random moves was helping to give Arion focus. The first day I rode him through the whole thing, he didn’t get all distracted and stupid and I was really proud of my off the track Thoroughbred.

  “See,” I told him. “You nailed it.”

  Not that he looked anything like a dressage horse at all. He was strung out and leggy and his movements were all too quick. It was like running through the test on fast forward but at least we were trying.

  Afterwards I took him out on the first part of the trail. I didn’t like to take him out alone in case he decided to be stupid and dump me off but there were a few poles and small logs that the cross country kids had set up in the field that led into the woods. I took him out there and let him walk over them, trying to get him accustomed to stepping over things that he would eventually jump.