Take the Reins (7 page)

THE SECOND WE HAD PULLED INTO THE
garage last night, I'd raced into my room. Even though I knew everything would still be there, I was relieved Dad hadn't turned my room into a temporary gym or something. They had left all of my things in place, including my Breyer model horse collection that lined my desk, bookshelf, and window-sill. And best of all, I slept better than I had in weeks—
and
woke up to the smell of a home-cooked breakfast.

“Two weeks until the show,” I told Mom and Dad as I ate my waffles. After three weeks at school, it was good to be home—I felt like I'd been at Canterwood forever. Last night, I'd wondered what Paige and Callie were doing and actually missed my dorm a little.

Mom checked the wall clock. “We've got to leave soon.”

“I can't believe you're ditching us to visit Briar Creek,” Dad teased.

I reached past him for the maple syrup. “Just for an hour. I have to say hello to Kim.”

Mom wiped down the counter with a sponge.

“I took the day off so I could see both my girls,” Dad said.

Mom and I put the dishes in the sink and headed out, leaving Dad strumming his air guitar and warbling some made-up country song about being lonely.

The trees outside had yellow and orange leaves. The road twisted and turned through the Connecticut countryside. It used to make me nauseous to dip and bend on the curvy roads, but now I loved it. Every twist brought me closer to Briar Creek.

The first thing I noticed when we got to Briar Creek was that the hunter course where I had cleared my first brush fence was gone. The grass, once torn by horseshoes, had grown back and there was no sign of the rustic jumps. I stood in the driveway and stared at the spot before heading inside.

Most of the students were in school, so the stables were quiet. “Hey, Irish!” I said, rushing up to the bay mare whose head hovered over the warped stall door. “Long time
no see!” Irish whickered appreciatively as my fingers stroked her black muzzle and scratched her ear. Irish was the last horse I had ridden before my parents bought Charm. Irish, a tall horse at seventeen hands high, had been daunting to me when Kim helped me into her saddle for the first time. But we'd clicked. Within a couple of weeks, I'd taken home a trophy from a local hunt seat class.

I made my way down the narrow aisles, peering into the stalls of familiar horses. “Hi, Sherlock,” I said to a fat sorrel pony a few stalls away from Irish. Sherlock was one of the many temperamental ponies I had ridden at Briar Creek. “I couldn't forget you,” I said. “Not after you kicked me last summer.” Sherlock kept his furry back to me and didn't look up when I left.

A few unfamiliar older girls, maybe in college, had horses crosstied in the aisle. I ducked under the crossties and headed for the back of the stable. I wondered whether or not my old friends even rode here anymore.

The more stalls I passed, the more unfamiliar horses I saw. Kim had at least a dozen new boarders. My chest twinged as I passed the hot walker and headed for Kim's office. It was small and cluttered—nothing like Mr. Conner's spacious air-conditioned office. But I'd missed it. “I'm
baa-ack
,” I said, knocking on the door.

Kim turned around in her chair. “You're here!” She jumped up and grabbed me in a tight hug. “You look fantastic, hon.”

“I really missed you!” I said.

“B.C. has changed a little, huh?” she asked.

“You have a lot of new boarders,” I said,

Kim's gaze flitted to the piles of paper on her desk. “After you left, the team needed someone to replace you in the competitions. I added a dozen girls hoping one would stick and be able to fill your slot.”

“Did you find one?”

Kim handed me a manila folder. “I did. Check out her file.”

There was a photo paper clipped to the folder. A could-be magazine cover model looked back at me, her long brown hair hair peeking out from underneath a riding helmet. She looked about a year younger than me. “Lauren Towers,” I read aloud. “Two-time national champion in juvenile show jumping and onetime dressage gold medalist at junior nationals.” Better than me.

Kim grinned. “Impressive, huh? I was lucky to get her. Lauren could have started sixth grade at Canterwood, but she's not as mature as you. She wasn't ready to live twenty-four seven in that ultracompetitive environment.” This
time last year, Kim had been excited about me showing for Briar Creek. We'd spent dozens of late nights trotting around the arena on foot to pace out the jumps. Kim never missed one of my competitions. She probably made it to more shows than my parents.

“She seems perfect,” I said.

“She takes direction well and she gets along with all of the riders.”

“I'm happy the team is doing so great,” I said. My fingers fiddled with the Briar Creek embosser on Kim's desk. “You're not upset that I left, are you?”

Kim twisted her chair away from the wall and stared at me. “Why in the world would I be upset?”

“You don't think I left you guys for something ‘better' do you?”

Kim reached across the desk and patted my hand. “I
know
you left us for something better. I would have been upset if you'd stayed. There was nothing else for me to teach you. Your talents would have been wasted here. That's why I told you about Canterwood.”

“It's weird riding for someone else,” I said. “You've always been my instructor.”

“Things change,” Kim said. “One day, you'll look back on your time here and see it for what it was—a stepping
stone. Do great at Canterwood—show people how much you learned here at B.C.”

“I want you to have a great team,” I said.

Kim locked eyes with me. “I know you do. And how are things with Heather and Aristocrat?”

“Never dull. Heather is like a green horse—unpredictable and uncontrollable.”

Kim rolled her eyes.

“I'm trying to concentrate on Charm and the show,” I said.

“That's the best way to deal with it,” Kim said. “How
is
Charm doing with all of this?”

His name made me smile. “He's perfect. As always. He loves the stable and he gallops along the fence line whenever I turn him out.”

“Sounds like he adjusted well, then.”

“He has. I can't believe the show's in a week,” I said.

“You're going to do great. I'll be visiting a farm in Lexington, but I know you'll tell me all about it.”

“I will. We've been practicing at least six days a week,” I said.

Kim looked at a framed photo of us, me sitting atop Charm's back, holding a blue ribbon. It was my first show with Charm in Union—and one of my favorite pictures.
“If you give Canterwood half of what you gave me, you'll never disappoint,” Kim said.

“Thanks. Dad made Mom swear to pick me up in exactly one hour,” I said, checking the time on my phone. “I better go.”

Kim got up from her desk and wrapped me in a hug. It wasn't easy to picture me hugging Mr. Conner like this.

I left Kim to work in her office and headed for Charm's old stall for a quick peek. His nameplate was gone and the box stall was empty. The first time I had ridden Charm at Briar Creek rushed back to me. He balked at the first oxer and spooked before refusing the double rail. That day, I'd been afraid that Charm was wrong for me. But after a few weeks of practice, we had melded together.

I waited for Mom outside. The gravel crunched beneath my feet as I walked. I missed this place. But now, I missed my friends at Canterwood, too.

A couple of pastures away, a Welsh pony jumped fences as if they were nothing. Brown hair gleamed from underneath the white helmet. The horse leapt the last brush fence and the rider slowed the pony to a walk. The girl smiled and vigorously patted her mount's neck.

A sudden breeze picked up and blew through the trees. Reddish leaves floated down and dotted the ground. I
pulled my cream-colored sweater tighter around my waist to ward off the chill. Mom's car pulled up the driveway and I got inside, not taking my eyes off Lauren. As we drove away, I turned in my seat and watched Briar Creek. It got smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a speck in the rearview mirror.

SUNDAY AFTERNOON, AFTER MOM AND DAD
dropped me off at school, I ran straight to the stable to see Charm. I couldn't stay long because Mr. Ramirez had rescheduled Friday's film class for today.

I turned the corner and saw Alison standing by Charm's stall. “Hey,” I said. “What are you doing?”

Alison jumped back from the stall and yanked her hands off the door. “Nothing. God, can't anyone walk by your horse?”

I peered inside Charm's stall to be sure Alison hadn't dumped manure inside or something.

“I've just never seen you around his stall before,” I said.

“I just wanted to know how you do it.” Alison shrugged. She turned her back to the stall and leaned against the
door to face me. Her long, dark brown waves framed her perfectly made-up, heart-shaped face. “How do you get him so flexible?” She swallowed and looked at her boots. “Sunstruck isn't bending.” She rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”

“Take him through some pole bends,” I said. “And lead him in tighter figure eights.”

Alison smiled. Not a fake I-hate-you smile, either. “Maybe I'll try that,” she said.

I entered Charm's stall and hugged his neck. “Alison asking for training advice,” I murmured to him. Maybe Alison was getting nervous about the show, too.

I left the stall. Down the aisle, Nicole had Wish crosstied and Mr. Conner was bent over his hoof.

“Is he okay?” I asked Nicole.

“He's got a sore hoof,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

Mr. Conner stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “It looks like a bruise, nothing too serious. But I'll call the vet and have her check him out.”

“Can I still show?” Nicole whispered.

Mr. Conner shook his head and gave her a sympathetic look. “No, I'm sorry. Not on Wish. You could ride a school horse, if you want. I'll help you find a good fit.”

Nicole sniffed back tears. I leaned over and squeezed her hand. “Wish will be okay,” I said. “You could ride another horse at the show.”

“No,” Nicole said, patting Wish's neck. “I'll skip it. I can't leave him. It's just one show.” But she looked as if she didn't believe it.

“I'm going to schedule Wish's appointment,” Mr. Conner said. He left us and headed toward his office.

“Let's groom him and help make him feel better,” I said.

Nicole nodded and handed me a body brush.

 

An hour later, I slid into my seat next to Jacob at film class.

Mr. Ramirez stepped in front of the class. “Let's get right to it. Homework. You will write a two-page paper on the strengths and weaknesses of dialogue in your assigned film. Half of you will watch
Gone With the Wind
and the rest will watch
Titanic.
”

Mr. Ramirez handed out folded papers. “You may unfold your papers as soon as you receive one,” he said.

Titanic
was printed on my instruction sheet.

“What'd you get?” Jacob asked. He showed me his paper—
Titanic
.

“Same!” I said.
Okay
, I thought.
This would be a great time
for Canterwood Sasha to step it up
. “Maybe we could help each other with our papers.”

Jacob nodded. “Definitely.”

OMG! Big yoga breath iiiiiiiiin and ouuuuuuuuuut.

“What's today's lip gloss?” Jacob asked.

I laughed and pulled one out of my backpack. “Cotton candy,” I said. “Good or bad?”

He rubbed his hands together. “My favorite fairground food.” He paused for a second. “So I was thinking—”

The roar of the MGM lion cut him off.

“What did you say?” I whispered.

“Nothing,” he said. “I'll tell you later.”

I faced the screen. What was he going to ask me?

IT WAS SHOW DAY.

Early Saturday morning, Callie and I stood in front of the green and gold Canterwood horse trailers, trying to stay out of the grooms' way. The weak October sunlight wasn't enough to keep us warm. Mr. Conner even had some of the horses with thin coats in light blankets.

I ran my fingers over Charm's braids. The clear rubber bands were snug and my fingers ached from more than four hours of braiding. Livvie had let me stay with Charm until nine last night and I'd squinted in the faint light to give him perfect braids. That was part our pre-show routine. Yesterday, Charm had a bath. His favorite shampoo and mane conditioner smelled like green apples. I worked the thick white formula into his mane, coat, and tail. After
a quick rinse, I doused him with extra conditioner, careful not to get it in his eyes. He got a final rinse cycle, after taking a drink from the hose, and then I used the squeegee to remove excess water. Ever since our first show, I stayed late at the stable and groomed and bathed Charm for hours to make him look and feel his best. He always returned the favor and showed his hardest the next day.

Mr. Conner had begun to tell everyone where to load their horses. While we waited for directions, Callie and I led Jack and Charm through the wet grass and tried to keep them calm. It wasn't easy since riders dashed around—loading horses and carrying gear into the trucks.

I leaned over and plucked a piece of straw from Callie's French braid.

Black Jack yanked on the brown leather lead line. With the streetlamps shining behind him, he cast a long shadow over the grass. “Your parents are meeting you there, right?” Callie asked.

“Yeah—this is the longest they've gone without seeing me ride Charm.”

Callie finished tightening Jack's leg wraps.

Across the lawn, Mr. Conner and two of the grooms had blindfolded Julia's mare, Trix, as they struggled to load her into the trailer. Mr. Conner gripped her black
halter and gently tugged her forward. She took tiny steps up the ramp. Once inside, Mr. Conner got a groom to tie her and he headed in our direction.

“Morning, girls,” he said. “Sasha, load Charm with Aristocrat. Callie, there's a spot next to Trix.”

I walked Charm over to where Heather stood in full-out diva mode. Her shimmery nails gleamed. Her jeans were wrinkle free and her light pink hoodie was without a speck of horsehair. Alison rubbed her eyes as she passed by, trading a steaming hot chocolate for the PowerBar Heather munched. Julia dumped Heather's saddlebag and grooming kit on the grass beside the trailer.

“Don't put that on the ground, Jules!” Heather said. “I don't want dirt on my stuff.” Heather rolled her eyes and whispered to Alison.

Julia picked up the gear and hauled it over to a table by the trailers.

I shoved my cold hands into my jacket pockets, wishing I were inside. It was still dark out, but the floodlights from the stable gave us just enough light.

I turned my attention to Charm. “Okay, boy. This one is yours. Ready to go inside?” Charm stretched his neck and eyed the trailer suspiciously. “You'll be fine. I'm here. Don't be scared.” I leaned down and checked his leg wraps
for the umpteenth time. Traveling with Charm always made me nervous. Trailer accidents were known to happen and it was hard for me to put Charm's life in a driver's hands. But I couldn't let him feel my nerves or he'd get upset. “Let's get inside.” Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I urged Charm toward the trailer.

“That's Aristocrat's side. Move Charm to the right,” Heather snipped. She strode to my side.

“Does it really matter?”

“It does, actually. Aristocrat doesn't travel well on the right side. Do you want me to get Mr. Conner so he can tell you that himself?”

“Fine, if it really bothers Aristocrat, Charm can ride on the right. He doesn't care what side he rides on.”

“Whatever.” Heather tugged on Aristocrat's lead line and headed for the trailer. Aristocrat stepped into the trailer as Heather tied him up. When she was done, she headed off with Julia and Alison. I noticed that Aristocrat's coat sparkled and in Aristocrat's side of the double trailer, Heather had given him a lot of extra lead.

Charm and I stepped up into the trailer. Mr. Conner had put rubber mats on the floor to prevent slipping. Aristocrat stretched his gleaming neck toward Charm and the two
huffed at each other. Aristocrat turned his head away from Charm. Charm gave me a look that said
what a snob
!

“That's my boy,” I said, patting his shoulder. At least Charm and I only had one class today. Mr. Conner had decided that since I was new, I'd show in my class and then assist him for the rest of the event.

I tied up Charm closer to the right side and patted him before getting out. On my way to the truck, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

When we arrived, the four-trailer caravan pulled into the gravel unloading area for the Connecticut State Horse Show.

“What time is it?” I asked Callie as we climbed out.

“Seven fifteen,” she said. “My class starts in forty-five minutes!”

We grabbed our duffel bags with our show clothes and dashed inside the blue and white check-in tent. We got our
numbers—I drew 188 and Callie got 201—and followed signs to the changing areas to get ready.

The Connecticut State Horse Show was a big deal. Riders who won their divisions here could qualify for regional and national shows. At Briar Creek, I'd only done local shows—never state competitions. If Canterwood riders made it to regionals, we could travel anywhere in New England for a show. Most riders at the intermediate level showed at least once a month—some even every other weekend to get enough wins and points to qualify for bigger shows.

The fancy gold script painted on the Canterwood trailers was hard to miss. I buttoned on my choker, grabbed my bag and knocked on Callie's door.

“I'll be there in five minutes,” Callie said. “My hairnet for dressage got tangled in my choker.”

“Want help?” I shifted my bag and checked my watch. Twenty-nine minutes until Callie's class and mine was right after hers.

“Just go. Mr. Conner will notice if we're
both
gone.”

I walked to the trailers. The sun had burned away the early morning fog. Horses and riders dotted the grounds.

Up ahead, I could see a warm-up ring tucked away behind the indoor arena. A metal sign pointed riders toward the
cross-country course. Some of the fences were higher than my practice jumps. Trainers coached students on horseback and one instructor had her students doing pre-show Pilates on mats in the nearby field. The Canterwood trailers looked as big as tour buses. Mike was holding Charm's lead line in his hand. Charm wasn't moving.

“What's wrong?” I asked, my voice shaking. I ran my hands up and down Charm's legs.

“Sasha! Sasha!” Mike said, pulling me up. “He's fine. His legs are fine. Nothing's broken.”

“What was wrong? I thought something happened!” Tears pricked my eyes as I stood and tried to steady myself against Charm's strong shoulder.

Mike shifted his eyes over to Charm's neck. I followed Mike's gaze to Charm's mane. Half of his once beautiful braids were gone. Stubs of mane stuck up in disarray. Mike offered me his hand. He held several of the braids, rubber bands still in place. After thinking Charm had hurt a leg, this was almost a relief. But I couldn't compete on a horse with a half-missing mane.

“It looks like Aristocrat is a chewer,” Mike said. “Heather must not have tied him well enough. Looks like he tugged the knot loose and chewed on Charm's mane.”

“Heather knew better,” I said to Mike. “She put
Aristocrat on the left side because the tie ring was thicker and easier to tug loose.
I
should have known better.”

Mike started to say something when another student called him. “I'm sorry,” he said, before jogging off to the unloading area.

Charm looked at me and I hugged him.

“I'm so sorry, boy,” I said. “I'll get your mane fixed. Promise.”

Callie dashed to my side, her helmet's unfastened chin strap flapping against her face. “Oh, Sasha. I'm so sorry. What can I do?”

“We've got to fix this before my class.” I checked my watch. “In nineteen minutes! Can you grab me the clippers?”

Callie found the clippers in the supply bag. Starting at his withers, I buzzed off Charm's mane up to his ears leaving only his forelock. Poor Charm didn't move. The remaining braids fell to the ground. I'd tell Mom and Dad that a horse chewed off Charm's mane, but I wouldn't tell them Heather had let Aristocrat do it on purpose. There was already too much to deal with today.

A few yards away, Mom and Dad spotted me and waved.

Um?

What was my mother wearing?! In one ear, she had a
green “C” earring and in the other she had a gold “A.” How did she even find those? Dad had one hunter green croc on one foot and a gold croc on the other. His Nikon hung around his neck. The other parents who walked the grounds wore normal outfits like khakis, light-colored blouses and polo shirts. Not these Canterwood Crest Academy souvenir shop monstrosities!

Mom hugged me. Dad snapped at least ten pictures as he walked over. He should have been a paparazzo—not the manager of a regional bank.

“This is my friend Callie,” I said.

“Hi, Callie,” Dad said. “Are you riding with Sasha?”

“I have a different class in a few minutes,” she said.

“Sasha!” Mom gasped, getting a look at Charm's mane.

Dad stepped around Mom and ran his hand over Charm's buzzed mane. “What happened?” he asked, lowering his camera.

“On the ride over, the horse next to him was trying to groom Charm and he accidentally bit too hard on the braids. I had to buzz off the rest.”

“Oh, honey,” Mom said. “Can he show like this?”

I nodded. “He'll be fine.”

“I'm sorry that happened,” Dad said. “But we know you'll do great anyway.”

“Thanks, Dad. We should go, but I'll see you later.”

“You going to tell them the truth?” Callie asked, once we were away from my parents.

“I don't want them to worry,” I said.

Mike handed me Charm's bridle and took the halter. After a quick adjustment to Charm's girth, he was ready.

Alison rode up to us and leaned closer to me. “Thanks for the bending advice,” she whispered, sneaking a glance at Heather, who was talking to Mr. Conner. “I think it worked.”

“Good,” I said. Callie gave me the wide-eyed, Alison's-talking-to-you look. Alison moved away from us and let Sunstruck walk over to Aristocrat.

“You're all going to do great,” Mr. Conner said, giving us a rare smile. “I'm proud of each and every one of you.”

 

I cheered as Callie gracefully dismounted and took Black Jack's reins in her free hand. Charm bobbed his head at Jack in congratulations.

“I can't believe I won first place!” Callie said, kissing her blue ribbon.

“You deserve it,” I said, wondering if I'd ever have that silky blue prize in my hands.

Alison took her second place red ribbon and rammed it into her jacket pocket.

“The dirt on the drop fence was soft,” Callie said. She loosened Jack's saddle and followed me off the outdoor course. “It's softer than it should be. We almost stumbled on the landing—that's what took Alison down.”

Callie looked so professional in her dressage habit—black top hat, thigh-high boots and fitted jacket. Regulations for dressage were strict. Perfecting all of the moves Callie practiced so many times didn't look easy.

My class started in half an hour—time for one final warm-up.

 

“Riders of the stadium jumping intermediate class round two, please proceed to ring number four. Number 187, Julia Myer, you're up first.” Charm and I waited just outside the ring while my class started. Mom and Dad waved at me from the stands.

I adjusted my crooked black helmet. I shouldn't have goofed off so much with Paige last week. Instead of watching a movie marathon on the Disney Channel, I should have been in the stables pacing out my jumps and working with Charm!

The loudspeaker crackled to life. “Score for number
187, Julia Myer, is no faults. Number 188, Sasha Silver, please enter the ring.”

Julia had a perfect score—zero.

When I squeezed my legs, Charm walked forward. The high jumps looked more daunting with every step he took. We stood at the edge of the ring while I took one final breath. A clear round was the only way to stay in the game.

The jumps—including planks and a combination—seemed to stretch into the top of the indoor ceiling. They looked menacing. During practices, Mr. Conner had gradually increased the jump heights and built up the team by teaching us how to approach tall jumps. Still, these obstacles were a couple of inches higher than Canterwood's rails. The goal was to make it cleanly over the jumps and not to go over time. If I did, I'd pick up a penalty.

We waited for the starting bell. My head felt hot under my helmet. My slick hands gripped the reins. The bell rang out. On my go, Charm surged forward and our time began.

Charm sailed over the first small vertical and pulled at the bit to head for the red and white oxer. “Easy,” I soothed. “Nice and slow.” He flicked his ears back for a second, listening to my voice, and then tucked his legs gracefully under his body and cleared the second jump. We made a long half circle and cantered to the third and
fourth jumps, a quick in and out. We needed to clear the third jump and leave the ground one stride later to leap the fourth. My breath stopped as Charm collected himself, slowed, and landed perfectly between the third and fourth fence. He skyrocketed over the fourth fence, with a dizzying triangle pattern, and surged forward to the water jump.