Pony Jumpers 2- Double Clear Read online

  “There you are.”

  Mum came up behind me as I watched Molly tuck into the long green stuff. She was carrying a sweat sheet over her arm and she threw it over Molly’s back, protecting her from the cool breeze that was making goosebumps form on my arms.

  “If you’re going to tell me to stop acting like a spoiled brat, you can save your breath,” I told her.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything of the sort.” Mum put her arms around me and pulled me in close. “I’m so sorry. I wish we could keep her. You know I do.”

  I nodded, burying my face in Mum’s bony shoulder. “I know.”

  “I would buy her for you if I could.”

  “I know you would.” I took a shaky breath, thinking hard. “We should’ve planned for this. Kept some money in reserve, in case this happened.”

  “What money?” Mum asked reasonably. “Everything that comes in goes out, you know that.”

  “We should’ve have let Fossick go so cheaply.”

  “It was the right home,” Mum argued, but I snorted.

  “Mounted games? The way that pony could jump? Pull the other one. We should’ve held out for someone who wanted to show jump her. Kept her a bit longer, got her really going at a metre ten…”

  “Katy.” There was a warning in Mum’s voice that I chose to ignore.

  “What if we sell everything else? If Robin wins this afternoon, he could fetch a decent price. If we market him as a show hunter instead of a Pony Club plodder, he’d be worth way more.”

  “We can try that,” Mum agreed, giving me a last squeeze before she let me go. “Now you’d better get back and get Forbes tacked up, because his class is about to start. They were walking it when I came over here. I’ll stay with Moll, keep cooling her out.”

  I looked at Molly, contentedly cropping the grass and blissfully unaware of her impending doom. “Why couldn’t you have been naughty?” I asked her. “Why’d you have to be so good?”

  I didn’t get an answer, so I passed her lead rope to Mum and walked back to the yards, wondering if there was any possible way to change the course of fate.

  Forbes jumped well, but sucked back behind my leg at the double and had a rail down. AJ had arrived by the time I was riding him back to the yards on a loose rein, my feet dangling next to the stirrups. She was leaning over Squib’s yard railing, rubbing his forehead and feeding him peppermints.

  “You’ll rot his teeth,” I told her as I jumped to the ground and led Forbes into his yard. It was already messy with manure, and I felt a flash of annoyance at AJ for standing around instead of mucking out while she waited for me.

  “I’m not feeding him that many,” she replied cheerfully. “How’d Forbes go?”

  “One down in the first round. When did you get here?”

  “About three minutes ago. Anders dropped me off.”

  I glanced around. “Is he still here?”

  AJ gave me a weird look. “He dropped me at the gate.”

  “Oh.” I could sense that she wanted to say something else, so I quickly changed the subject. “Well, Susannah rode Molly this morning, and the little traitor jumped double clear.”

  “That’s a shame,” AJ commiserated. “But at least you know she’ll be happy, if she goes to them.”

  I unbuckled the girth and lifted the saddle off Forbes’ back. “Doubtful. I don’t see how any pony could be happy, belonging to her.”

  “She’s not that bad,” AJ said, and I shot her a dirty look.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Susannah. She’s not that bad.”

  I scoffed. “What would you know about it? You don’t even know her.”

  AJ shrugged. “I just don’t think she’s as horrible as you make her out to be.”

  “I told you what she did. And you want to be friends with her? You think I should sell my pony to her?”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to be friends with her. I just said that I don’t think she’s all that bad. And if Molly likes her, then that’s got to be a good thing, right? I mean, you wouldn’t want Molly to go to someone who can’t ride her. You wouldn’t want to see her going badly.”

  Wouldn’t I? I wouldn’t want to see her unhappy, but I hadn’t realised how much of my own pride and sense of self-worth had come from my achievements with Molly until they’d started to be ripped away from me.

  “I don’t want her to go to Susannah.”

  “Well, you don’t really have a choice, do you?” AJ asked, her voice starting carry. “You said yourself that you can’t afford the pony, so someone has to buy her, and you might as well be friends with that person.”

  She turned to walk away, but I couldn’t let her finish on that. “So I should just stand back while she’s sold to a family with a criminal conviction for horse abuse?” I snapped. “Susannah might’ve fooled you and a few other people, but she hasn’t changed. You just wait and see.”

  AJ turned back to me, her expression unreadable. “You told me yourself that the girl whose pony was attacked has forgiven Susannah. Why can’t you?”

  I hesitated, trying to find the right words to explain that forgiveness was not something you just handed out because other people were saintly or naïve. But AJ wasn’t done.

  “You’re carrying around someone else’s baggage, Katy. For Molly’s sake, and for your own, you have to let it go.”

  Easy enough for her to say. She wasn’t there when it all went down. Hadn’t seen the aftermath, couldn’t possibly understand just how horrific the whole ordeal had been. Not just for Marley and her family, who of course had been the worst affected, but for all of us. The very thought that someone was capable of sabotaging another rider’s efforts to win, just so that they would have a better chance themselves, was shocking. And when it had led to the physical abuse of an innocent pony, it was completely sickening, and had no place in our sport. At least not the version of it that we knew.

  I pushed the thoughts out of my mind as I trotted Robin across the show hunter arena, and asked him to pick up a canter. He resisted slightly, then made a jerky upward transition. I should’ve taken more time over his warm-up, but I’d miscalculated the length of time it would take to get AJ and the sugar-high Squib prepped for their class. We’d put our fight behind us, and as their self-appointed coach, their success mattered to me, and a good warm-up was crucial to get Squib focussed in the ring. It’d worked, too. AJ’s chunky grey pony had been full of himself as usual, but he’d jumped a super clear round in the metre-ten speed, just slightly too slow to finish in the ribbons. By the time we’d waited for the results and congratulated the winners, then walked back to the yards, I’d found Mum frantically dragging a fully-tacked Robin over towards the show hunters, yelling at me to hurry up and get dressed and get on my pony. I’d only been in the saddle for a few minutes, and a quick canter on each rein was all I’d managed to do to warm him up. Luckily the jumps were only small, and it was hardly going to tax him to canter slowly over them.

  I aimed him towards the first fence, and he jumped it cleanly. Cantered around the corner, made a wide, sweeping turn to fence two, and cantered a steady five strides down to fence three. Robin popped calmly over, but he was lazy behind and I heard his hooves rattle the back rail. That would knock points off his score, and I dug my spurs into his side a little as we cantered the turn. He responded by picking up his pace slightly, and took the brush fence well out of a bold stride. He pecked a bit on landing though, and I had to slip my reins a fraction to let him regain his balance. Fortunately we still had four strides to reach the next jump, but he was lazy off the ground, and tapped the front rail. I wanted to growl at him, but we were cantering right past the judge now, and I knew they disapproved of that in show hunter, so I kept my irritation to myself and rode Robin on around the turn. He was on the wrong lead, so I asked him for a flying change. He resisted, and I was forced to click my tongue at him, despite the proximity of the judge, and used my spur firmly to get him to respond. Robin skipped a little an
d changed behind, but was still wrong in front. It was too late now to change it, as we were only a handful of strides from the last three fences, so I was forced to accept that we’d cross-cantered the corner. No ribbons for you today, I thought at Robin as he jumped over the low wall. Lazy sod. He landed smoothly, took four even strides and jumped over the white rails of the oxer. Two strides and he was out over the last fence, and I brought him back to a trot and headed him towards the gate.

  Mum was standing there, frowning at me as we approached. Probably about to lambast me for a terrible round, which I knew I’d had so there was no reason for her to rub it in. But as the next rider came into the ring, I suddenly felt what she’d clearly noticed. A hitch in Robin’s stride. I slowed his trot more, and it became more pronounced until there was no longer any doubt in either of our minds.

  Robin was lame.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

  I shook my head at AJ the next morning as I tightened Molly’s girth. We’d arrived back at the show grounds twenty minutes ago, and after getting the ponies off the truck – minus Robin, who had taken over Puppet’s babysitting duties in the box stall next to Lucas – I wanted nothing more than to get into the saddle and just ride.

  “Hard to tell. There’s no major heat or swelling, other than some heel pain. Mum’s going to get the vet in to take a look at him, since he’s no better this morning.”

  “Who’s not better?” Hayley Maxwell came strolling down the aisle towards us, and AJ pulled a face and turned away from her, returning her attentions to Squib, who was leaning over his railing and shoving his upper lip at her, trying to persuade her to give him more of his beloved peppermints. Hayley stopped front of me and leaned against Molly’s yard.

  “Robin. He went lame yesterday.” I lifted Molly’s bridle to her head and slipped it on, then buckled the throatlash.

  “Not another one! Man, you’re having some bad luck lately,” Hayley said, shaking her head at me. As if I hadn’t noticed that my ponies were dropping like flies. I’d barely slept last night, feeling terrible about it, still sure that it was somehow my fault.

  Hayley was still talking. “So I don’t know if you saw yesterday, but Tess just about killed herself in the Speed class.”

  I shook my head. “Must’ve missed it. What happened?”

  Hayley groaned. “Same old story. Came out of the corner to the big square oxer and started pulling on Misty’s mouth. I yelled at her to let his head go, so what does she do? Drops the contact completely and just grabs a handful of his mane. And of course she didn’t have her leg on, so naturally Misty decided to go past the jump instead of over it, and Tess ate dirt. How she managed to fall off while holding the mane is anyone’s guess. So I told Mum last night that that’s it. She’s not riding him anymore, I want him to go on lease. And that’s where you come in.”

  I paused, my hands stilling on Molly’s noseband. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. You’ll be able to handle him, and you’re short on Grand Prix ponies right now. It’s win-win.”

  I smiled at her, trying not to get my hopes up too high. “Won’t your parents just want to sell him?”

  Hayley scoffed. “I’d like to see them try. They’re not that stupid, they know I’d never forgive them.” She shook her long hair out and grinned at me. “What d’you say? Mum still wants Tess to ride him this afternoon, but I’m planning on stealing him away before the class and hiding him somewhere so she can’t. He’s entered in the Grand Prix tomorrow morning, so I’ll try talk Mum into letting you take him in it as a test run. Sound good?”

  “Sounds fantastic,” I agreed. “Thanks so much!”

  Hayley strode off to get her horse ready for the Junior Rider class, and I led Molly out and swung up into her saddle. AJ gave me a curious look as Squib chewed on her t-shirt.

  “You must be on early this morning,” she commented. “It’s not even eight yet and the ring doesn’t open until nine.”

  “I want to get a proper warm-up,” I told her. “After Robin yesterday, I’m paranoid. And it’ll do her good.”

  “Fair enough,” AJ shrugged and I rode out from under the shaky tin roof and into the open.

  It was a beautiful morning, crisp and clear, and Molly jig-jogged slightly as we set off. It felt so good to be in her saddle again, and I ran a gentle hand down her arched neck. She flinched it away from me, full of high spirits, and I laughed and let her move up into a slow trot, following the dirt road that ran along the side of the rings and down past the stable block. There were a few people up and about, mucking out stables or leading rugged and bandaged horses out for a morning pick of grass. Several said hello to me, and I smiled and waved as we passed them. Steph’s truck was parked near the end of the block, and I gritted my teeth as I let Molly trot on more energetically past. I hadn’t been entirely truthful with AJ. Molly didn’t need too much of a warm-up – in fact, she usually jumped better with just a short work-in – but I hadn’t wanted to risk having Susannah turn up again, demanding to ride her. If I was already in the saddle, even Steph couldn’t kick me out…surely. And even if she tried, the rules were on my side. If I’d done the warm-up, Susannah couldn’t take over the ride for the class. So here I was, in Molly’s saddle more than an hour before her class was due to open, because I was too scared to risk missing out on what might be one of the last rides I would ever have on my favourite mare.

  Despite my concerns, neither Susannah nor Steph turned up and tried to drag me off Molly. Maybe it was because Steph had seen me riding that morning, or maybe they just hadn’t planned on it. But I was so wired by the prospect, and Molly was so het-up by her prolonged warm-up, that our round in the 1.25m didn’t go very well at all. Instead of me proving that Molly loved me most and that I was the best possible rider for her, we had a shocking round, finishing with three rails down and a time fault. I rode out of the ring with my head hanging, feeling decidedly sorry for myself.

  AJ was sympathetic, but Mum wasn’t. She knew it was my fault for over-working Molly too early, and she told me so. In the end I grabbed AJ and we went for a walk to watch the show ponies, which was more like watching paint dry, but at least I didn’t have to listen to Mum railing on about how disappointed she was in me. We sat on the grass and watched the ponies trot around and around in circles, their riders perched stiffly in the saddles, and tried to guess who the winners would be. I was better at it than AJ, but neither of us ever completely agreed with the judge’s decision.

  At least not until the Working Hunter ponies came in, and a beautiful dark bay mare did a super workout that we couldn’t fault. It wasn’t until the rider was leaving the ring with a smile on her face that I recognised Tessa Maxwell in the saddle. I’d thought the pony looked familiar - she’d had the reliable bay for several years now. I wondered how Tess felt about Hayley’s offer. From what I’d seen of her on-board Misty, and comparing it with how much happier and more relaxed she looked on her own pony, I couldn’t imagine her being too upset about losing the ride.

  I’d just started to ask AJ what she thought of me riding Misty when her phone rang.

  “Hold that thought,” she told me, then answered the call with no preamble. “What?”

  I raised my eyebrows at her abrupt greeting, and went back to watching the chestnut pony now in the ring. The rider was supposed to be doing a hand gallop, which is showing terms for a bold forward canter, but her pony had interpreted it as an actual gallop, and was on its second lap of the ring with her leaning back and hauling on the reins in a vain attempt to slow him. It didn’t work, and moments later the pony had jumped the picket fence that divided the ring from the warm-up area and galloped away.

  “Show jumping rings are that way!” I heard someone call, and I laughed as AJ finished her conversation and hung up.

  “That was dramatic,” she said, her eyes following the chestnut pony as it disappeared into the distance.

  “Reckon. Who was that?”
I asked, motioning towards the phone she was just shoving back into her pocket.

  AJ was frowning slightly as she stood up and brushed herself off. “Anders. He got up late, always dangerous in our house, and discovered that everyone’s gone out except Astrid, so he’s now officially stuck babysitting her for the day.”

  “And he rang you to complain about it?” I asked as we walked back towards our yards, wondering if Mum had simmered down yet. Even if she hadn’t, our next class would be starting soon, and Forbes and Squib had to be made ready for it.

  “He rang to see if he could bring her here and leave her with me,” AJ clarified. “So of course I said hell no. The last thing we need is Astrid following us around all day.”

  I shrugged. “Mum’d look after her. She’d probably just sit in our truck and read, wouldn’t she?” Astrid was twelve years old and unlike the rest of AJ’s loud, energetic family, she was a bookworm who kept mostly to herself. The couple of times I’d seen her, she’d always had her nose in a book and her iPod plugged into her ears, living in her own imaginary world.

  “Maybe. But Anders always gets out of things like that, so I told him he should get up earlier in future and then these things wouldn’t happen to him. He’s coming up anyway, and dragging Astrid along. Probably to punish her, because wandering around in crowds of people all day is like her worst nightmare, but whatever. It won’t kill her.”

  I filtered through the barrage of information for the important part. “Anders is coming to the show?”

  “Yeah. Says he wants to watch Squib jump.” AJ’s tone was disparaging, but there was a trace of hopefulness in it too. Her parents had bought her a pony to keep her happy, but they were too busy working and looking after her four siblings to spend much time with her. She’d told me once that her mother hadn’t seen her ride Squib since the day they’d bought him. Her brother and sister coming to watch her ride today was a big deal for her, whatever she said, and I slung my arm across her shoulders and gave her an encouraging squeeze.