Silver Stirrups (6 page)

“Scrambled or poached, honey?” Carole’s father called from downstairs.

Carole thrust the covers back and sat up. “Poached, Dad!” To herself she muttered, “I feel scrambled enough already.” She hadn’t slept well at all. She had tossed and turned and had one bad dream after another.

At the foot of the bed, Carole’s cat, Snowball, stretched luxuriously and squinted at her. “I wish I could stay in bed with you,” Carole murmured, rubbing the cat’s head as she stood up. What was the point of going to a stupid
schooling
show anyway? It didn’t
prove
anything.

Carole let herself think bad thoughts as she brushed
her teeth and got dressed. She wore her second-best pair of breeches and an old but clean shirt. “I’ll bet Andrea Barry shows up in spanking-new, superexpensive clothes, custom boots …” Then Carole remembered Starlight. He was waiting in his stall, not knowing what the day would bring. Carole had to shake off her bad attitude, if only for him. She had to go and ride and do her best. Her best would be good enough. At least, it always had been in the past.

P
INE
H
OLLOW WAS
abuzz with excitement. Young riders hurried to and fro, carrying tack, brushes, and hard hats. The show was divided into two broad divisions: under eighteen and eighteen and over. The juniors would ride in the morning; there would be a break for lunch, with a discussion led by the judge; and the adults would ride in the afternoon. To keep it simple, there were only two classes for each group: equitation over fences and equitation on the flat.

“Why couldn’t Max have thrown in a jumper division?” Stevie complained. “Then Belle and I would have a chance.”

Stevie, Lisa, and Carole were standing by the ring watching the first rider make a circle before jumping. By watching the first few rounds, they could find out if there was a problem area on the course—a fence or a
combination of fences that was particularly tricky. Then they would know where to pay extra attention when their turns came. It was one of the advantages of riding in the second half of the rotation. All three of The Saddle Club girls had drawn spots late in the order.

“You do have a chance, Stevie,” Lisa told her. “You have good equitation when you try.”

Carole nodded in agreement. “Just make sure you keep your elbows in and don’t let Belle get strong after the first jump.”

Stevie nodded, listening. She and Lisa were used to getting advice from Carole at shows. They paid attention because it worked. Yesterday and this morning Stevie had noticed that Andrea seemed to have good pointers, too, from her years of showing. That reminded Stevie of one she wanted to share with the other two. “Andrea said it helps to think of the next jump when you’re in the air over the one before it.”

“That makes sense,” said Lisa. “Preparation always saves you from—”

Carole didn’t let her finish. “Obviously,” she broke in scornfully. “What else would you be thinking of when you’re jumping?”

Stevie grinned. “Oh, I don’t know—bacon cheeseburgers and fries? How to get back at my brothers?”

“Or Monday’s math test?” Lisa joked.

But Carole went on in a serious voice: “Preparation is everything in jumping. If you don’t start thinking about fence two until after you’ve landed from fence one, you’ll be halfway there before you can actually do anything. Then it’ll probably be too late to make an adjustment, to shorten or lengthen stride, so, chances are, you’ll end up meeting the jump at a bad position.”

“Kind of like that?” Lisa asked, pointing.

Out on the course, Betsy Cavanaugh had put her horse into a fence so awkwardly that the horse ran out at the last minute. The girls watched as she circled and reapproached the jump, a vertical comprised of alternating red and white poles. This time the horse took the fence in stride.

“Exactly like that,” Carole said. “The turn to the vertical is tight. I’ll bet a lot of people make that mistake.”

“Too bad. Otherwise it was a good round,” Lisa commented.

Watching a few more riders made it clear that Carole was right. There was one more run-out at the vertical and a couple of close calls where the horse jumped but very awkwardly. Other than that, the course seemed to be fairly straightforward. After the fifth rider, Lisa went to warm up Prancer. Stevie left
after the sixth rider. “Shouldn’t you come, too, Carole?” Stevie asked. “You ride before me.”

“I’ll be there in two secs,” said Carole distractedly. She watched another course. Then she really had to go if she wanted to give Starlight a proper warm-up. She turned away from the ring when, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a bright chestnut horse waiting at the gate. Andrea Barry was on deck. A little voice inside Carole’s head told her to keep walking, to march straight to Starlight’s stall and get on. But she couldn’t move. She just had to see Andrea go.

Before the new pair entered the ring, Carole stole a glance at Andrea’s face. It was the picture of calm composure. Carole’s heart sank as Andrea picked up a confident canter and rode toward the first fence, an inviting low brush. Doc pricked his ears, snapped up his legs, and they were over. They took the next several fences in near-perfect form. Then came the vertical. Carole crossed her fingers. It was an ugly thought, but she couldn’t help herself: She was actually hoping Andrea would make a mistake.

Doc came out of the turn too fast. Andrea barely had time to steady him. He took off from too far back and made a flat jump, barely clearing the fence. Carole turned for the barn. Now she had the information she needed: Andrea was beatable.

Carole had to hurry. She led Starlight out from his stall, where she’d left him, fully tacked. She mounted and began a rushed warm-up, walking, trotting, cantering. Starlight felt alert—more than alert. He felt fresh. He wanted to take off after the cross rails Carole used as a warm-up fence.

Carole barely heard the “Good luck!” Lisa called to her as she headed over to the ring. Waiting on deck, Carole realized she’d forgotten to ask Lisa how her ride had gone. That made Carole feel bad. The Saddle Club always tried to encourage one another at shows. It was sort of an offshoot of one of the rules of the club that they had to be willing to help one another out in any situation. She would make it up to Lisa later. Right now, Carole thought, she had more important things to worry about—like winning the equitation over fences.

The rider before Carole jumped her last fence and came cantering to the end of the ring. The gate opened, the rider came out, and Carole went in.

She halted briefly, summoning all her powers of concentration. But she found she couldn’t concentrate. The colors and the noises blurred. The fences seemed almost unreal. Carole jumped the first few of them on autopilot. She felt frozen in the saddle, posed like a doll in two-point position. Starlight saved her at
the next two jumps. Then came an oxer in the middle of the ring. Dimly Carole remembered that the vertical was the fence after the oxer. “Prepare, prepare,” she muttered to herself. There were three strides to the oxer, then two, then one. In the air over the fence, Carole had one thought. She had to beat Andrea. The fear that had been lurking at the back of her mind came rushing forward: She couldn’t let Andrea Barry displace her as the best junior rider at Pine Hollow.

Starlight touched down after the oxer. He was headed for the barn. The barn was his home. His instinct was to keep going toward it. He felt full of energy. The short warm-up had barely taken the edge off. He lengthened stride, speeding down the straightaway.

With a shock, Carole came to her senses. The vertical lay directly to her left. Another second and it would be too late to turn. In a flash, Carole sat up as hard as she could. She raised her hands off Starlight’s neck, where she’d allowed them to fall. And she wrenched Starlight around to the next fence. He made an awkward turn, bowing his shoulder out and falling heavily onto his forehand.

Starlight pulled at the bit. There was a jump ahead, but it wasn’t directly in his path. It would be easy to run around it. But he felt his rider urging him toward
the set of raised poles. He knew what she wanted him to do. And because this was the rider who had trained him, because he trusted her and had learned to do her bidding time and again, he obeyed this time, too. He let her head him toward the fence. In order to clear it, he had to get way underneath it and pop up over it. But he did it. Rather than run out or refuse, he made a difficult, unnatural jump. He did his best.

M
AX HAD GOTTEN
Jock Sawyer to judge the schooling show. Jock was an old friend of Max’s. He was known for being both hard and fair. He was also known for making his decisions fast. Today was no different. Ten minutes after Stevie, the last rider, completed her course, Jock handed his judge’s card to Mrs. Reg, who read the results over the PA system. As if it were a real horse show, Mrs. Reg read the full names of both horses and riders.

“In sixth place, Ms. Lisa Atwood riding Pine Hollow’s own Prancer.”

Lisa trotted into the ring, grinning widely. Sixth was better than she’d expected. She’d had trouble at two fences and had been on the wrong lead for a couple of strides. Max came forward and pinned a green ribbon on Prancer’s bridle. That made Lisa’s grin even bigger. “I didn’t know you got ribbons, Max!”

“Naturally,” said Max, flashing her a smile. “I can’t have my winners going home empty-handed.”

Fifth was taken by a boy who lived on a farm adjacent to Pine Hollow.

Polly Giacomin got fourth. Lisa clapped loudly and gave Polly the thumbs-up sign. On her brown gelding, Polly looked pleased as she joined the growing line of winners.

“In third place, Ms. Stephanie Lake aboard Belle!” Mrs. Reg announced.

“Yippee!” Stevie cried. She stuffed the candy bar she had been eating into her pocket and rode into the ring, patting Belle extravagantly.

Max came forward with the yellow ribbon. “You see? Equitation won’t kill you,” he murmured, his eyes twinkling.

Stevie smiled sheepishly. Although she wouldn’t have admitted it, she was proud of herself. She had ridden well, following Andrea’s (and Carole’s) advice to prepare early for every fence.

Lisa was delighted at Stevie’s third. She knew Carole would win or get second, so that meant The Saddle Club would each take home at least one ribbon apiece.

“In second place—” Mrs. Reg continued.

No, no, no,
Carole prayed, waiting outside the ring.
Don’t let me get second. First or—or nothing!
Her hands tensed on the reins.

“Ms. Carole Hanson riding Starlight!”

Stevie and Lisa burst into applause. The other riders clapped loudly. “What happened?” Polly joked to Stevie. “Did Carole fall off?”

The girls laughed. Carole’s equitation was so good that for her to get second was rare.

“We’ve got to kid her about this one,” Stevie said.

But Lisa shook her head wordlessly. One look at her friend and she knew that the second was no laughing matter to Carole.

Stone-faced, Carole rode into the ring.

“Nice job except for the vertical,” Max murmured. “But you know that.”

Carole forced herself to turn her lips up politely. But she wasn’t smiling. She couldn’t. The red ribbon fluttering on Starlight’s bridle made her face burn with shame. She glanced at the crowd. She was sure everyone was laughing at her. Her friends, Max, Mrs. Reg, the stable hands, the other local junior riders—didn’t they see it? This wasn’t just one class at a schooling show. It was much, much more. Carole’s worst fear had come true: In front of everyone, she had lost her edge. She had gone from being the best to being second best. And she had been beaten by someone a year
younger! How would she ever prove that she was better
now?

“And in first place, winner of the junior equitation over fences, a newcomer to Pine Hollow, Ms. Andrea Barry riding Country Doctor!”

Carole couldn’t watch. She kept her eyes on the ground.

“Hey, congratulations! Carole, right?”

“Yeah,” said Carole. She couldn’t look Andrea Barry in the face. “Congratulations to you, too.” Her voice came out in a croak.

“That turn to the vertical was a bear!” Andrea said.

“I’ll say!” Stevie chimed in. “I felt Belle’s eyes pop when she realized she actually had to jump it.”

Carole stared at Starlight’s mane. She stared at the pommel of her saddle. She felt her throat tighten. It couldn’t be, but it was: She was going to cry! She was not only a loser, but a poor loser as well! She was a bad sport!

“Your advice really helped,” Stevie was saying. “What do you think I should do in the flat class if Belle falls into the circle?”

Carole could stand it no longer. “I—I have to go,” she whispered. Her eyes blinded by tears, she spurred Starlight toward the barn.

M
AX STOOD UP
in front of the lunch crowd and waved his hands for silence. “Before we start the discussion, I’d like to thank my old friend, former master of foxhounds, three-time member of the United States show jumping team, and veteran horse show judge Jock Sawyer. Jock took time out of his busy schedule to officiate at our little show today. Thanks again, Jock!”