“Dressage is real riding,” Mickey snapped. “If you don’t know that then you don’t know anything.” She grabbed my arm. “Come on Emily.”
“I guess I’ll see you around,” I said as Mickey shoved me down the next aisle.
“What is wrong with you?” I whispered.
“You know what he did to me,” she said.
“I think you did that to yourself,” I replied.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Let’s just look around before your mom picks us up.”
“I don’t want to,” Mickey said.
She was acting like she was four years old and it was getting on my nerves. It wasn’t my fault that Ethan hadn’t asked her to the ball or that he had kissed someone else and it certainly wasn’t my fault that Jordan was back in town either.
“Fine,” I said. “Well I’m going to look at the saddle pads. You can do whatever you want.”
“I will.”
She stormed off and left me standing there. I heard a little chime and then the door slammed. She’d gone outside. I just hoped that she didn’t tell her mom to drive off without me because my dad would be pretty mad if he had to come and get me.
I was looking at the fancy pads when Jordan came strolling down the aisle.
“Is it safe?” he said.
“Yes, she’s gone outside,” I said.
“I guess she’s still pretty mad, huh?”
“It’s not you,” I said. “She’s kind of mad at all boys right now. It’s just a bad time for her.”
“All boys? That’s not exactly fair now, is it?”
“You know Mickey.” I shrugged.
We made idle talk about the weather and the upcoming jumper shows. I told Jordon about the Young Riders clinic and he told me about a big away show that was taking place over Easter.
“You should come,” he said. “There are going to be lots of jumper classes. You’ll clean up with that pony of yours.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I think my Dad already knows about it but I’ll remind him.”
But as I said the words I realized that it wasn’t going to be so easy travelling and going to shows now that the possible suspension was looming over his head. What if other trainers knew about it? Would they talk about him behind his back or laugh to his face? Would he have to endure the same sort of thing that I had with Jess? It was too awful to think about.
“Well,” I said, putting the saddle pad I’d been holding back on the rack. “I’d better go. If I don’t, Mickey will probably leave me stranded here.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know, I guess living in a tack store would be pretty cool.”
He leaned in closer. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh.”
Now I was the one backing away because I had the distinct feeling that Jordan was flirting with me. Jordan who was dark and sexy and much older than I was. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do or how I was supposed to act. No one had ever really flirted with me before. Will kind of had but we bickered with each other more than anything. This felt different.
I was walking away when he called out after me.
“You going to the Valentine ball, pony jumper?”
I turned and looked over my shoulder. “Maybe.”
“Well I’ll take you,” he said. “If you want.”
I didn’t know what I was supposed to say so I just ran out of the tack store as fast as I could and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Mickey didn’t leave me at the tack store but she did refuse to talk to me on the way home. By the time we got back to the barn, I was getting kind of mad with her. It wasn’t my fault that all of this had happened and I wasn’t going to let her treat me like a doormat. I was done with that. As I got out of the car, I turned to face her.
“By the way,” I said. “Dad is making me take Arion to the dressage show.”
She looked at me and opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I tried to get out of it but there is nothing I can do. I’ll still help you though, I promise.”
“Don’t bother,” she said.
And she just sat there staring straight ahead until her mom drove away.
When I told Missy what had happened, she said that Mickey would come around.
“She’s just mad at the world, she’s not really mad at you.”
“But I don’t want things like boys and shows to come between us,” I said, handing her the bottle of talcum powder.
Baby Owen was on the changing mat, gurgling and smiling as Missy changed his diaper. She’d just finished applying the powder and had turned to get the clean diaper when a tiny fountain of pee rose up into the air.
“Owen,” Missy cried. “Stop it.”
She slapped the clean diaper over him to stem the flood but it was too late.
“Girls would never do that,” Missy said, sounding exasperated.
When Owen was clean she picked him up and he giggled as she tossed him up and down in the air.
“At least he’s getting better about the whole crying thing,” I said.
“Thank goodness,” Missy said. “I thought I was going insane for a few weeks there.”
“I think we all were,” I said.
We sat in the kitchen and talked about boys and best friends. Missy was easy to talk to. She wasn’t judgmental like a parent and she was close enough to my age to still understand all the things I was going through.
“Mickey will come around,” she said. “Just give her some time.”
“I hope so,” I said. “She’s the only friend I’ve got.”
“Maybe you should try making some new ones,” Missy suggested. “It’s not healthy to put all your love into one thing. It’s asking to get your heart stomped on.”
“I don’t want more friends,” I said. “It’s complicated enough as it is just having one.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Missy said. “It’s not the end of the world.”
But it kind of felt like it was. Mickey came to the barn for her lessons and even though she was talking to me, our conversations were strained. And every day Arion was getting better. Much better. So good that I was worried that if Mickey froze and messed up on show day, we’d actually beat them.
“Very nice,” Miss. Fontain called out as we executed a perfect twenty meter circle. “See, you do know the difference between a circle and an egg.”
“He feels different,” I said, pulling Arion to a halt.
“That’s because he’s learning how to use his body,” she replied.
“Do you think he’ll make a good jumper?” I asked her.
“Isn’t that for your father to decide?” she said, looking up at me.
During our lessons I’d come to the realization that Miss. Fontain was not the monster I’d imagined her to be. She was tough but fair and she wouldn’t tell you something if it wasn't true.
“I guess we’ll find out eventually,” I said.
“You’re giving him a good foundation.” She patted my gray horse on the neck. “That is the best thing you can do for him right now. No matter what discipline he ends up in, your training will serve him well and if he doesn’t turn out to be a great jumper, it won’t be the end of the world, will it? He’s still a lovely horse.”
Arion took the opportunity to rub his sweaty mouth on Miss. Fontain’s jacket and we both laughed but deep down I knew it was important that my new horse learn to jump if he wanted to stay with us.
Mickey was in the barn tacking up Hampton for her lesson.
“Hey,” I said. “Want to go for a ride after? I could tack up Bluebird?”
She shook her head.
“Ethan might be out on the trail working on those cross country jumps. You could try and talk to him.”
“I don’t want to talk to him,” she said. “And I don't want to
talk to you either.”
“Mickey.” I sighed. “That’s not exactly fair. I told you it’s not my fault.”
“It is,” she said, turning to me with her eyes full of tears. “You promised you’d help me. You said you’d be my groom. That you’d be there for me and now you’re going to be too busy riding your own stupid horse to care.”
“I told you I’ll still help you,” I said. “I promise.”
“Don’t bother.” She tightened Hampton’s girth. “I get it. Showing and winning and your stupid horses are more important than I am.”
“Mickey,” I begged. “You know that’s not true.”
But she put Hampton’s bridle on without saying another word and took him out to the ring without a second glance.
“What was that all about?” Dad said, coming out of the office.
“Mickey hates my guts,” I said. “Thanks to you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Dad wanted to talk about it but I said there wasn’t much point. I had come around to the fact that Arion needed to go to the show. It was the easiest way to expose him to the horse show environment without having kids and adults flying over jumps and scaring the crap out of him. And the truth was that I was kind of excited. I wanted to take my new horse to a show. It was exciting to think how far he’d come in such a short time. It was only really weeks ago that he kind of hated me and now he had not only started to form a bond with me but also looked happy when I tacked him up. He wanted to work and that made me so proud of him. I wanted other people to see how far he’d come and Mickey should have understood that.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, tack Encore up instead,” Dad said. “I have time to give you a lesson and he’s settled in now. It’s time for him to get back to work.”
I took the bay horse out of his stall. He just walked somberly to the cross ties and stood there. I wasn't used to horses that hid their personality so well. Socks would have been dancing about. Bluebird and Arion looking for treats. I held one out for Encore. He sniffed it and then turned his nose up at it.
“You really are a funny boy,” I said as I got to work on his coat with the brush. “You don’t like treats much or cuddles and kisses. What do you like?”
“He likes to work,” Dad said, bring out a clean pad and boots. “That is what makes him happy.”
“That’s kind of dull though, don’t you think? Why doesn’t he like other things too?”
“I don’t think he’s had too much of those other kinds of things.” Dad patted the horse on the neck. “He knows his job and he likes his job. You can’t ask more of him than that.”
“That’s what he thinks,” I whispered to Encore as my father walked away. “I’m still going to get to the bottom of where you came from.”
But after getting caught snooping around, I wasn't too keen to try again. Who knew what other skeletons I’d find in my father’s closet? Were the skeletons in Encore’s past too? Maybe the past was better left there. Digging it up wasn’t going to do anyone any good.
By the time Encore was ready, I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to play detective anymore. After all, what good could really come of it? But as I walked Encore out to the ring, my father beckoned us over to the grass jump ring.
“In here today,” he said.
“Really?” I said, a surge of excitement running through me like a jolt of electricity.
The grass ring was nothing like Esther’s field where we’d set up a few standards so we could still jump when the ring was flooded and the horses would kind of know what they were doing if we went to a show where the ring was grass. This was one of those set ups like you saw on TV where international competitions were held in grass derby rings with banks and water jumps. Only we didn’t have a bank but we had everything else. And the jumps were not the boring hunter kind made of wood and branches and astro turf. They were the colors of the rainbow with big yellow sunflower standards and blue waves in front of the water jump.
I would have given anything to ride Bluebird in there but for most of the winter it had been closed off to preserve the footing and what little winter grass we had left. He would have had a field day with the silly pink and purple jump with standards that looked like balls of wool and the serious looking green oxer that blended into the grass background so that horses backed off, unable to clearly see the rails. I’d been hounding Dad for weeks, asking when I was going to get to ride in there and now I was, only not on my spunky pony after all, on the blank slate horse.
“Warm up,” Dad said. “Use that cross rail over there.”
I worked Encore at a trot and canter and then took him over the small fence a few times. He was all business, never putting a foot wrong. It felt like cheating. Like it was too easy. I was used to having to work for it. Even Bluebird, who I knew better than any horse, would always throw in a crow hop or buck just to keep me on my toes but Encore just did everything perfectly. I kept waiting for him to mess up so that I could prove he was a real horse after all and not a robot but that never happened.
Dad set up the fences and they all looked really high.
“You want us to jump those?” I said. “All of them?”
“What do you think?” He grinned.
“I think yes please,” I replied.
He pointed out the course, signaling the winding lines of jumps that he wanted me to take. The rainbow vertical to the wool jump. The green oxer to the water. I wondered if he was testing me. Not telling me something about Encore and waiting for whatever it was to surface so he could see how I dealt with it. But as I cantered the big plain bay towards the first fence and he pricked his ears, I knew that Dad was right. Encore didn’t care about treats and hugs and any of that stuff but he did care about jumping and not only cared about it but loved it and was good at it. Really good.
He took every fence in stride with those big ears pricked, tucking his knees up like a cat. I didn’t even have to do much. I didn’t have to set him up like Bluebird or slow him down like Socks. He knew what to do. I just had to sit there. As I opened his stride up for the water and then he came back sweetly to jump the next vertical, I knew this horse was a pro. He’d been around the block and seen it all and there was no way that he was here by accident. I just knew he’d been a top competition horse once so why had he ended up at Fox Run looking like a shaggy cart horse?
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
The jumping lesson was a success and afterwards I couldn’t wait to take Encore to a show, if my father would let me.
“When is the next jumper show?” I said excitedly.
“After your clinic,” he said.
“And we can take Encore, can’t we?”
“We’ll see.”
“What do you mean, we’ll see?” I said. “That’s why he’s here, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” he said. “But he’s also here to be sold. He’s a consignment horse, remember?”
“Well what better way to show him off than taking him to a show and having him win?”
“True,” Dad said. “But if he gets sold then you won’t get to ride him anymore, will you.”
“Oh,” I said. “I guess you’re right.”
We walked back to the barn in silence. Having the consignment horses around to ride was great but the fact that they would find new owners and leave Fox Run was not fun at all. In fact it kind of sucked.
“Anyway,” Dad said. “Aren’t you supposed to be concentrating on your dressage show?”
“We’re ready,” I said. “As ready as we’ll ever be anyway. Arion isn’t a dressage horse. He’s going to be a jumper.”
“And he’ll be a jumper with a good, solid foundation.”
“You sound like Miss. Fontain.” I sighed. “Besides, I have the torture of the ball to think about too.”
“The what?”
Dad looked at me like I was crazy and I actually felt crazy for even entertaining the notion of going but Faith had sort of made me promise and Jordan
had also sort of asked me to go. I was torn between wanting to go and not wanting to go and I didn’t know what to do about it. I decided that the best person to talk to about it was Missy. I found her up at the house making something that didn’t smell very good at all. I didn’t like to ask what it was and was relieved to see her open one of the steaming pots to reveal baby bottles.
“Thank goodness,” I said, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs. “I thought that was what you were feeding us tonight.”
“I’m far too tired to cook,” she said. “It’ll be pizza or nothing I’m afraid.”
“That’s okay. I’m not very hungry,” I said.
“You? Not hungry?”
“Hey.” I laughed. ‘That’s not nice, what are you trying to say?”
“But there is something on your mind, isn’t there?”
She put down her wash cloth and looked at me curiously. She was wearing jeans and a pale blue sweater. It was the first time I’d seen her out of sweatpants since the baby was born. She was losing the extra weight she’d been carrying around and had even put a touch of makeup on her pale face. I knew that it wouldn't be long before she was back down at the barn teaching and riding full time again. After all, she had her career to think about. Lots of top women riders had babies and went back in the ring. These days you could have it all. I just couldn’t help wondering who was going to take care of Owen because if she thought it was going to be me, she had another thing coming. So I blurted out my feelings about the ball instead of talking about the one thing I really wanted to know, how much longer I’d be able to ride Socks.
“So,” I said, after I’d spilled all the gory details. “Do you think I should go?”
“Do I think you should go to a ball that a boy has asked you to? What kind of question is that? Of course I think you should go.”
Missy was all for the idea, vowing to help me pick out a dress and to help do my hair. I was almost sorry that I’d asked her because she seemed like she was more excited about the ball than I was and had made it her mission in life to turn me into some kind of fairy princess.
Half Halt (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 15) Page 7