Pony Jumpers 9- Nine Lives Read online

  “I’m serious. You’d rather throw Tori away than let someone else try and ride her, in case it turns out that you were wrong, and that she’s not a hopeless case after all.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Katy snapped angrily. “That’s not remotely true, and you know it!”

  “Do I?”

  I heard Katy’s sharp intake of breath. “I thought you did. But I also thought you were my friend, so I guess that shows how much I know.”

  “Yeah, I guess it does.” I rolled over and swung out of bed, then shimmied out of my sleeping bag and grabbed a jacket. I heard Katy’s sleeping bag rustle as she rolled over.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “For a walk.”

  “Good. Go far,” Katy said bitterly, then rolled over to face the wall again.

  I slammed the door behind me.

  17

  HEART TO HEART

  I found myself wandering through the stables, where the sounds and smells of the horses slowly calmed me down. I made my way unerringly towards Squib’s box, peering in at the horses I passed, wondering what their stories were, and if they were happy, and whether they were grateful to have someone in their life who believed in them. Squib was dozing in the back of his stable, but he came eagerly forward when I spoke to him, and I slipped into his box and wrapped my arms around his warm, solid neck.

  “I love you, pony. More than anything in the world.”

  Squib pressed his head against my back, almost as though he was hugging me back, but my surge of affection was quickly tempered when he started chewing on my jacket pocket.

  “Trust you to only think about your stomach,” I teased him as I pulled away and fished out the peppermints that he could smell. He scoffed them off my palm and crunched blissfully as I gave him a goodnight kiss on the cheek.

  It was only when I turned around that I realised I wasn’t alone. I jumped at the sight of another person leaning over Squib’s stable door, then laughed.

  “I didn’t see you there!”

  “Sorry.” Susannah smiled at me under the dim, buzzing yellow stable lights. “I heard voices, and came to see what was up.”

  I walked up to her and let myself out of Squib’s box. He followed me to the door, and nudged my arm insistently, demanding more treats.

  “I didn’t expect to find anyone else up at this time of night,” I told Susannah. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  She shrugged. “Something like that. What about you?”

  I leaned back against Squib’s stable door as he snuffled through my hair. “I had a fight with Katy.”

  “About Tori?”

  I turned my head and looked at Susannah. “How’d you know?”

  She shrugged. “It’s been on your mind all day. I can tell.” She tilted her head and looked at me. “Is she really as bad as Katy says?”

  “No,” I said defensively. “I mean, she’s not easy, not by a long shot. She’s strong and reactive and incredibly stubborn, and if she wants to chuck you off, she will. But I like her.”

  “Why?” she asked, her blue eyes boring into mine. “Honest question. What’s the appeal?”

  “Well, she’s stunning, obviously,” I said. “And talented, and well-bred, and super athletic…”

  “So are a lot of other horses,” Susannah pointed out. “What makes her worth persevering with?”

  There was no judgement in her tone, just curiousity, so I tried to give her an honest answer. “I don’t know. I guess I just like her because…because no-one else does.” It wasn’t the answer I’d expected to give, but I realised that it was true. Everyone else ran Tori down all the time, and nobody else wanted to give her a second chance. But I did. “Because she needs to have someone in her corner.”

  “And you think that Katy’s giving up on her too easily.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Absolutely. She’s barely ridden her lately, and now that her dad’s agreed to consider buying Zoe, Katy’s just written Tori off entirely. And now she’s sending Tori back to a place she hated, where she was miserable, because it’s the easiest and most convenient thing to do. But the thing I don’t get is why she won’t keep trying. It’s not like she can’t train difficult horses. She does it all the time, I’ve seen her do it. She saw the potential in Squib, when hardly anyone else did, and she’s helped me so much with him, and look at him now! When Tori turned up and she was so difficult, I never doubted that Katy would be able to turn her around. But now she wants to just give up, and I just don’t get it. I don’t understand.”

  “Maybe it’s a money thing,” Susannah said, walking over to Skip’s stable and looking in at her chestnut pony. “Didn’t her dad pay a lot for Tori?”

  I frowned at her. “Yeah, so?”

  “So, money equals pressure. And I don’t think Katy’s been under that kind of pressure before.”

  I was about to retort that hyper-competitive Katy was always putting herself under plenty of pressure, but the words died on my lips as I remembered who I was talking to. Not just my friend, but someone whose extremely wealthy family thought that success could be bought and paid for, simply by getting the best ponies and telling your kids that they had to win, or else. Susannah was right – that was an entirely different kind of pressure from what Katy was used to.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Of course not,” Susannah said. “Just like I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be you. We only get to live one side of the coin. But one thing I do know is that when people spend a lot of money on something, they expect to get a return on it. They buy good horses so they can stand on the sidelines and brag about them, so that when you win or jump a brilliant round, they can say ‘That’s mine’, to feel like they participated in that success. Katy’s dad doesn’t know much about horses, but he knows how much money he spent in the pursuit of glory, and it hasn’t eventuated. It’s not Katy’s fault, of course, but it’s left them both disappointed. She’s disappointed in herself, and disappointed for him, and disappointed with the horse, and he won’t understand that sometimes you can’t just wave a magical money wand to solve the problem. Some horses just aren’t able to be fixed.”

  She’d had me up until then, but I couldn’t help digging my heels in on that point. “But we don’t know that Tori can’t be fixed,” I argued. “Even if all of that is true, I still don’t see why Katy won’t let someone else have a chance at putting Tori right. Why not let her go to someone like Marley, who might be able to figure her out?”

  Susannah smiled weakly. “I don’t think you’ve been around the show scene long enough to know how these things work. People tie their hopes and dreams up in their horses, and when they don’t work out, it breaks their hearts. And sometimes it hurts too much for them to watch someone else take over those dreams. Take Marley’s sister Van, for example. She used to compete a fancy imported horse for a woman that couldn’t ride it to save her life. Seemed like every time Lynda took him into the ring, she got eliminated, but every time Van rode him, he won or placed in his class. People started telling her to let Van ride him for a season to get him going, but Lynda wouldn’t do it. She was embarrassed by how well the horse went for Van, and she ended up selling him to Australia, just so she wouldn’t have to come face-to-face with her own limitations at every show she went to.”

  “That’s so stupid though!” I exclaimed. “That’s what I don’t understand. Why do people let their own egos get in the way of what’s best for their horse?”

  “Because we’re all human, AJ,” Susannah said. “None of us like to be laughed at, or thought badly of.”

  I groaned, resting my elbows on top of the stable door and dropping my chin onto my folded hands. “You know how your parents tell you things like You’ll understand when you’re older?” I asked, and Susannah nodded. “That’s a lie. I’m pretty sure I understand even less about the world now than I did when I was a kid. Everything was so black and white back then.”

  “It wasn’t reall
y, though,” Susannah replied. “It only seemed that way because we didn’t know any better.”

  I sighed. “Do you think we can ever go back to that?”

  “Maybe if we get really old and senile,” she suggested. “But I think life probably just gets more confusing as it goes along.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  Susannah smiled. “It wasn’t meant to be comforting. Just true.”

  Down the aisle, a horse squealed, making both of our heads turn towards it.

  “Every single horse here has its own story,” I mused out loud. “And every rider, and parent, and coach on these grounds tonight. They all lead these complicated, busy lives that the rest of us will probably never even know about. You ever think about that?”

  “Sometimes,” Susannah admitted. “But most of the time I’m just focusing on my own life too much to worry about anyone else’s.”

  I looked over at her. “How are things at home lately?”

  Even the near darkness couldn’t hide her rueful expression. “Oh, you know. Complicated.”

  I walked over to her, and stood by her side in front of Skip’s stable door. The chestnut pony was lying on his stomach with his legs tucked up against his belly, his chin resting on the floor as he snoozed.

  “At least we know we’re not keeping him up,” I said softly, and she chuckled.

  “Not much keeps Skip awake. He’s a very good sleeper. Much better than I am.”

  I hadn’t planned to stay out for long, but somehow, the night grew darker and the minutes stretched out into hours as Susannah and I lingered at the stables. We ended up in Skip’s box, listening to his soft snoring as we sat up against the wall, shoulder to shoulder for warmth. I hadn’t spent much time one-on-one with Susannah before, but the more I talked to her, the more I liked her. She was thoughtful, quick to praise and slow to judge, which was a sharp contrast from Katy, who was in all ways the polar opposite. Our conversation rambled along through various topics like school and friends and potential career paths.

  “I haven’t even thought about what I’ll do when I finish school,” I admitted. “It still seems so far away, even though it’s only like, three years.” I turned to look at Susannah, who was pulling a piece of hay apart. “How about you?”

  She didn’t look up. “I want to be a vet.”

  “Really? Like a horse vet?”

  She nodded. “That’s the dream. Of course, that’s all it is right now. It might never happen. Vet school’s so hard to get into.”

  “I’m sure you’ll make it though,” I said encouragingly. “Dreams are no good if we don’t believe they can come true.”

  Susannah smiled. “You’re right,” she admitted.

  “Of course I am. Now say it again, like you mean it.”

  She tossed the frayed pieces of hay onto the shavings at her feet and looked me in the eyes. “When I grow up, I’m going to be an equine vet.”

  “Yes you are. And I will hire you to look after my many horses.”

  Her smile widened. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Skip lifted his head and blinked at us balefully, as though willing us to go away and let him sleep.

  “I guess we should take a hint and go to bed,” I said, getting to my feet and stretching my aching muscles. “Oof. How long have we been sitting there for?”

  Susannah shrugged, pulling her phone out of her pocket and checking the time. “Woah. It’s past one in the morning.”

  “Oops.”

  She scrambled to her feet. “Right? I’m surprised Dad hasn’t come to find me.”

  “Maybe he fell asleep already,” I suggested.

  “Yeah, maybe.” She didn’t seem convinced, but she crouched down to drop a final kiss on Skip’s nose as I unlatched the stable door and stepped out into the aisle.

  “Guess I’ll see you in a few hours, then.”

  Susannah nodded, looking at me over her shoulder. “Goodnight, AJ. Sleep well.”

  “You too.”

  Katy was asleep when I got back, or if she wasn’t, she was convincingly pretending to be. I crawled back up into the overhang, snuggled back into my sleeping bag, and quickly fell asleep.

  I was up early the next morning, dressed and out of the truck before Katy had stirred. She was never much of a morning person anyway. I went straight to the stables to check on Squib, who was waiting for me impatiently. Susannah’s ponies were no longer in the neighbouring boxes, and I figured she’d taken them for a morning leg-stretch and a pick of grass, so decided to follow suit. Squib was pleased to be out, shooting smug looks back at his friends still shut into their stables as I led him down the aisle and out into the fresh autumn morning. There was a chill in the air that made my ears and nose tingle, and I was glad that I’d grabbed my puffer jacket on the way out of the truck. Squib marched alongside me as we wandered around the show grounds, looking for Susannah, but when we reached the furthest reach of the grounds, there was only one other person there. Squib whinnied at the sight of the pinto pony, who was casually cropping grass while his owner stood next to him, one arm draped across his withers as she stared into the distance. The pony’s head lifted and he whickered a response as Marley turned around and smiled at me.

  “Morning.”

  “Hi.” Squib was determined not to be shy, dragging me towards the friendly pinto. “Sorry. He’s desperate to introduce himself.”

  “No problem. Cruise is always happy to make new friends,” she said, with a warm smile. “I’m Marley, by the way.”

  “I’m AJ. And this is Squib.”

  Her green eyes sparkled. “I know. I’ve been dying to meet you,” Marley said, much to my astonishment. “I saw your pony jump yesterday. He’s super! We’re huge fans.”

  A wide grin stretched across my face as I brimmed with pride at the compliment. “Wow, thanks! He is pretty special. I just hope one day he can be as amazing as yours.”

  “He’s well on his way,” Marley assured me as we watched the ponies nibble at each other’s halters and pretend to bite each other in the face. Unlike most other ponies, Cruise seemed to genuinely like Squib, who was consequently delighted to make his acquaintance.

  I looked at Marley, who was watching the ponies with genuine amusement, and suddenly I desperately wanted her to take Tori on.

  “Would you be interested in a project horse?” I blurted out.

  Marley turned towards me, raising a speculative eyebrow. “Maybe. Depends what it is.”

  “She’s a six-year-old, just over sixteen hands, very well-bred,” I said. “Top jumping bloodlines and incredible scope.”

  “But…?” Marley prompted, clearly sensing that there was a catch.

  “She’s…difficult.”

  “I guessed that. Difficult how?”

  I’ve always been a firm believer that honesty is the best policy, especially when it comes to horses, so I told her all that I knew about Tori’s history. I left Katy’s name out of it, but Marley wasn’t fooled.

  “I remember her at Taupo, when Katy came off,” Marley said after I finished. “She’s a handful, that’s for sure.”

  My heart sank. “You’re not interested?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Marley replied. “But she’s a risky proposition, and may never be easy to sell on. Which would be fine, if I planned on spending the next ten years competing in New Zealand, but…” She shrugged. “Every time I think I’ve got the future figured out, some dramatic change comes along and messes it up. This last year has just been crazy, and I’m trying not to make any long-term plans right now.”

  My heart sank as Squib decided to get more aggressive in his friendship and nipped Cruise on the neck, making him squeal and jump back. Marley barely flinched, just reached out and patted her pony’s neck reassuringly.

  “Behave yourself,” I scolded Squib, who looked at me with an innocent expression.

  “Man, he’s so cute,” Marley said, grinning at my pony. Cruise nudged her hip pointedly, and she turned
and gave him a kiss. “Not as cute as you, I promise. You know, it’s a shame Van’s still overseas,” she said, turning back towards me. “She’d be all over that horse of Katy’s like a rash.”

  “Is she coming back soon?” I asked hopefully, but Marley just smiled.

  “Who would know? Van’s the least predictable person I know, and even she’s shocked me lately.” Her watch beeped, and Marley frowned. “Speaking of sisters, I’d better get back and help Kris. It was nice to meet you, AJ, and good luck today. You jumping in the Pony Grand Prix?”

  I shook my head. “We’re not quite ready for that yet. Next season.”

  Marley nodded. “Sounds like a plan. And tell Katy I’ll keep an ear out for someone who might want to take on that horse of hers. I assume she’s been checked out by a physio, had bloodwork done, all that?”

  “Uh…I don’t think so,” I admitted.

  Marley looked surprised. “Really? Well, that’s where I’d start,” she said. “I can give you the number of this amazing osteopath that we’ve been using lately. She’s incredible, and our horses have never felt better. And she should get bloodwork done. There could be something off-kilter that’s causing the issues. Horses aren’t naughty for no reason. Most of them want to be good, they just don’t always understand how.”

  18

  ONE LAST CHANCE

  Later that morning, Squib jumped double clear in the 1.10m-1.15m qualifier to finish fourth and go forward to the final tomorrow. Susannah and Forbes had another brilliant round for another win, and we were both grinning from ear to ear as we rode back to the stables after our class.

  I spent a long time fussing over my pony afterwards, washing him down and hand-walking him until his coat dried in the sun. I wished I had one of those fancy massage blankets for him, but we would have to make do with what we could afford, which in my case was a soft body brush and a lot of elbow grease. Squib closed his eyes and rested his chin on the stable door as I went over him with hard, sweeping strokes, bringing a shine to his coat and working the knots out of his muscles.