Winter Wonderland (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 13) Page 2

  Ethan and Faith arrived just as Mickey and I were perched on upturned muck tubs, trying to pin the banner to the wood frame of the barn.

  “I think a spider just crawled on me,” Mickey shrieked, flailing wildly before falling off her tub. She practically landed in Ethan’s arms.

  “Good catch,” I said as her face turned red and she jumped away from him faster than she had done for the spider.

  “Well I think Miss. Fontain would have a few things to say if Mickey broke her neck,” Ethan said.

  “I think maybe I’d rather break my neck than ride with her again,” Mickey said.

  While Mickey had been all gung ho to take dressage lessons, the reality of the situation finally hit her when she took her first one with the new dressage instructor, a frighteningly intimidating woman with short gray hair and a spectacular temper. She told Mickey in no uncertain terms that dressage was only for the most dedicated of riders and that if she wasn’t going to listen to all the rules and apply them to her riding and quite frankly her life, then she might as well give up now.

  “You could always go back to the hunters,” I told her.

  “Maybe I will,” she said. “See how Miss. Fountain likes that.”

  “It’s Fontain,” Faith said.

  “I know.” Mickey rolled her eyes.

  But the fact of the matter was that I knew Mickey was in love with dressage. It was elegant and beautiful and if you did it right then your horse could dance across the arena as well as any ballerina. She didn’t care about jumping and going fast and soaring through the air like I did. She wanted to be pretty and perfect and she wanted to prove that she was good at something. She wasn’t about to give up so easily and I was kind of proud of her for that.

  We set up the folding table with the cake and the cups and the pink pony hats, which Faith thought were the best thing ever.

  “Can I take one home for Macaroni?” she asked.

  “Whatever,” Mickey said.

  “And a piece of the cake too?” she said. “Because it looks just like him.”

  “That’s gross.” Ethan threw a paper plate at his sister. “Then it would be like your pony is eating himself.”

  “I know,” she said.

  And since none of us knew what to make of that, we decided it was time to drag Esther out and force her to enjoy herself. She was sitting at her desk just like she always was, pretending to be busy because we all knew that she couldn’t possibly have any real work left to do.

  “Come on,” I said. “The sooner you come out and force yourself to eat some of this revolting cake then the sooner it will all be over.”

  “Yeah, like pulling off a band aid. Plus you get to eat Macaroni too,” Faith said brightly.

  “What on earth?” Esther said.

  And it was the lure of seeing the Macaroni cake and not having a fun time that finally brought Esther out of her den and into the barn aisle where things did in fact look rather cheery thanks to the balloons and the banner and those unicorn kitten cups. And the cake didn’t taste half bad, although Mickey and I didn’t tell anyone that it was in fact her mother who had done most of the work because even though our cake ended up in the trash, we’d still slaved over a hot stove all afternoon anyway. And I sat there clutching the scrap book in my sweating hands, wondering when the best time would be to give it to Esther because I didn’t want to make her cry again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Macaroni cake was a hit. We ate the whole thing and Faith only managed to save a piece of the tail at the last minute. We talked about all the fun times we’d had at Sand Hill and it wasn’t sad because they were all funny stories like the time Macaroni kept letting all the other horses out of their stalls in the middle of the night and when Meatball left dead mice as presents for us in the tack room. The fat, orange cat was curled up in Esther’s lap, his soft purrs rumbling and mixing with the conversation.

  “Are you taking him with you?” I asked her.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it would be fair to him. He’s used to Florida and it’s so cold in Sweden. I don’t think he’d like the snow very much.”

  I thought of how I didn’t want to move to Wisconsin because I didn’t like the snow either and felt bad for the cat that had only know Sand Hill as his home.

  “What is going to happen to him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “You should take him back to Fox Run,” Faith said. “They don’t have any cats there at all. What keeps all the mice away?”

  “Miss. Fontain keeps the mice away,” Mickey said darkly. “I think she snacks on them when no one is looking.”

  “Gross,” Faith cried.

  I thought about poor Meatball being abandoned and knew that I couldn’t just let him go to some shelter or another home where he didn’t know anyone. Horses were as much a part of his life as they were of ours. Sleeping in the fresh shavings and watching over the horses while we weren’t there. He would miss it terribly if he was stuck in some stuffy house all day long. I was pretty sure that Fox Run wasn’t the kind of barn that allowed cats to just wander around but I knew I couldn’t leave him behind.

  “I’ll ask if I can take him,” I said.

  Meatball seemed happy with that answer. He jumped off Esther’s lap and rubbed against my legs before chasing a stray strand of hay down the barn aisle. I wandered after him, past the stalls where Harlow had once lived and then Bluebird. They were all empty now, the horses that lived in them just echoes and shadows. I looked inside at the shavings pushed up against the walls and the bare mats and I could almost hear the stomp of a hoof and an echoing whinny at feeding time. It was sad but it was time. Soon the new owners would fill the barn with their own horses and the place wouldn’t look so depressing anymore.

  Saffron was standing in the end stall. She came to the bars when she saw me and stuck her nose out.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to ride you more,” I told her. “I know we had our differences but you were just getting to be fun.”

  She shook her black and white mane and went back to her hay, not bothered. She was a funny mare. Not really affectionate at all but she had taught me things, just like all the horses I’d ridden had done.

  The black pony Princess was the only other horse in the barn. She had been sold to a family who needed a pony for their two girls. They were five and six years old and I knew that Princess was going to have a great time babysitting them as they fought over who was going to get to ride her.

  “Saffron didn’t find a home yet?” I asked Esther as she came up beside me.

  “No,” she said. “I knew it would be hard, trying to find someone to take a green horse like her.”

  “But we worked with her and she’s so much better now,” I said.

  “She’s better for you. The people who did come and try her out didn’t get on as well with her.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I can’t even give her away.”

  It hardly seemed right that people wouldn’t want a free horse but it was true. Free wasn’t really free when you had to pay to house and feed them. Horses weren’t cheap. I of all people knew that.

  “We’ll figure something out,” I said.

  “Well I’m running out of time,” she said.

  I didn’t know what else to say. What were you supposed to do with a horse no one wanted? Send it to auction and hope that it didn’t end up as dog food? There had to be a better option than that.

  “When I’m older, I’m buying a farm so that all the homeless horses can live there forever,” I told Mickey when we went back to the table.

  “Sounds expensive,” she said, grinning because she’d heard me say it a million times before.

  “I’ll help you.” Faith smiled.

  “Thanks.” I put my arm around her.

  We cleared away the empty plates and cups and took down the banner because Est
her said it would scare Saffron when she tried to take her out of her stall and she didn’t need to get crushed by a frantic horse on her last few days. So the barn went from festive to shabby again and we stood there awkwardly, not wanting to say goodbye.

  “I’ll let you know about Meatball,” I told Esther as I hugged her tight. “And this is for you.”

  I shoved the present into her hands before she could push it away and then ran off to the car where Mickey’s mom was waiting. I didn’t want to cry in front of Esther. It would only make everything worse.

  “You don’t want a cat, do you?” I asked Mickey’s mom.

  “I’m allergic,” she said. “Did you have a nice time?”

  “I guess but I hate goodbyes.”

  “Then don’t say goodbye. Say, I’ll see you later.”

  “But I won’t see Esther later,” I said, watching as the others gave her awkward hugs too.

  “You might,” Mickey’s mom said. “You never know when you might see someone again. It could be weeks or months or even years. You just never know.”

  And her words gave me hope that it wasn’t really goodbye forever.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “You can’t have a cat,” Dad said.

  “Why not?”

  We were sitting in the kitchen. He had just come in from teaching all day and Missy had already gone to bed because her feet hurt and her back hurt. In fact she said that everything hurt. It hurt me just looking at her. She looked like she was about to explode. If she didn’t go into labor soon they were going to induce her to force the baby to come but she was still hoping that it was going to happen any day now.

  “This isn’t the kind of barn where you can have a cat running around,” Dad said.

  He was standing there making a sandwich. If meals had been scarce in my old house, they were nonexistent in my new one. We all ate at different times because thanks to the horses, we were so busy that meals were usually sandwiches or snacks. I’d also introduced Dad and Missy to the wonder of microwave meals and she’d been to the local big box store and stuffed the freezer full so that we wouldn’t starve to death while she was having the baby.

  “All barns have cats,” I said. “To keep the mice and rats away.”

  “Have you seen any mice?”

  “No but I bet they are there, lurking in the corners just waiting to jump out of a tack locker at some poor, unsuspecting boarder. What do you think Jess would do if a rat ran up her leg?”

  “And what do you think she would do if a cat jumped in front of her horse while she was trying to ride and she fell off?”

  “Well there you go. It’s worth having the cat around just for that.”

  “Emily,” Dad warned.

  He didn’t like it when I talked bad about the boarders behind their backs but it wasn’t just me. He didn’t like Jess either but it turned out that her father was one of their top paying customers and so the sun shone out of Jess’s butt and she was never wrong, no matter what she did.

  “Please,” I begged. “I’ll take care of him and everything. You won’t even know he’s here and if he’s any trouble at all then I’ll find him a new place to live. You wouldn’t want him to be homeless, would you?”

  I gave my father the puppy dog eyes I had been practicing. They never worked on my mother but Mickey swore that dads were suckers for it so I let them loose along with a quivering lip. Dad’s face softened.

  “Oh all right.” He sighed. “But if I hear one instance where that cat has upset someone, boarder or student, then he has to go.”

  “Thank you.” I grinned.

  I should have got up and hugged him. It would have been the perfect time. After all, he’d just been nice to me but I just wasn’t there yet. So far we hadn’t really had any physical contact at all. One time he slapped me on the back but I think that was only because he thought I was choking and not because he was congratulating me for something. We were still getting to know each other and it was going to take time.

  “So,” I said, helping myself to half his sandwich. “You don’t know anyone who is in the market for a green but talented Paint mare, do you?”

  “Forget it kid,” he said. “I just said you can have the cat. There is no room here for anymore horses that aren’t paying customers.”

  “I know,” I said.

  I knew that it would never work. It wasn’t like Dad would just let Saffron come and stay at Fox Run for free, especially since I was already working off Bluebird’s board. It didn’t seem fair. He had his own horse, Canterbury, who had a stall in the trainer’s barn and Missy had Socks while Bluebird was stuck out in the back like some poor country cousin.

  “I’m going to say goodnight to Bluebird,” I said.

  I grabbed a carrot from the fridge where we had a whole shelf full. At least that was one upside of living in a horse mad house, we may not have had enough human food but we were always well stocked on carrots and apples.

  The barn was quiet. The last few boarders had finished their rides and were putting their stuff and horses away. A couple of them waved and I waved back. Most people had been nice to me since I arrived, although some were not quite sure if I was the hired help or the trainer’s daughter. Was I supposed to get respect or just clean up after them? They didn’t seem sure and neither was I. It turned out that living with my father was just as complicated as living with Mom and Derek.

  Bluebird was standing under his shelter, eating a pile of hay. He nickered gently when he saw me.

  “Hey boy.”

  I slipped into the paddock and gave him the carrot. He snuffled in my pockets for more.

  “You’ll get too fat,” I told him. “Just because we have a refrigerator full, doesn’t mean that you can eat a ton every day.”

  I slipped my hand up under his sheet. He was warm but not sweaty. It was going to be cold and he was clipped so I was always coming out and checking to see if he needed his sheet or his blanket. It was something I had taken for granted when he had been at Sand Hill but there was nothing quite like living on the same property as your pony. I could look out my window in the tiny cottage and see him standing there in the sun or sleeping in the moonlight. I fed him his meals and cleaned up after him and I got to spend every free minute riding him. In fact if it wasn’t for Jess and the fact that no one seemed to have time to give me any lessons, it would have been perfect. Then again nothing in life was ever exactly perfect but I was still going to try and make this the best Christmas ever. But I hadn’t seen Jess since she overheard Mickey saying that Rob was my father and I couldn't help wondering what she was up to because knowing Jess, it wasn’t anything good.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I rode Bluebird every night after school, watching as my father taught other people how to ride. It wasn’t all bad though. The footing was better at Fox Run and they had a million different jumps that were always set up for interesting gymnastics or courses that had been used for lessons. I took Bluebird over all of them. He was getting better with every ride and so was I and I was schooling quietly in the corner of the ring when my father finally beckoned me over and asked if I would like to join the group.

  There were three other girls on horses. One of them was Jess on Hashtag. I didn’t know the others but I’d seen them around the barn and taken care of their horses. One was a feisty chestnut mare called Pixie who tried to bite you when you weren’t paying attention and the other was a sweet black gelding called Velvet who was an older schoolmaster type.

  I rode up to them suddenly feeling self-conscious and nervous. It was one thing being out there and riding in obscurity but it was another being dragged right into the fold.

  “She can’t ride with us,” Jess said, glaring at me.

  “I don’t think that is your decision, do you?” Dad frowned at her.

  “It is.” She stuck her nose in the air. “My father pays for me to ride with Rachel and Tulip. Not the hired help.”

  My face flushed red. After all, she was right
, I was the hired help but I was also the daughter of the trainer and she was the one who knew that. I couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t been talking about me behind my back and telling everyone who I really was.

  “Jess, enough.” Dad held up his hand and even though Jess opened her mouth, she closed it again.

  So I joined them but since Bluebird was much smaller than their horses, I felt like I was a little kid trying to keep up with the big girls. Only when we started jumping, that didn’t matter. Bluebird could jump just as well as their horses. In fact he jumped better. Dad had us going down a gymnastic line and since Bluebird and I had been doing lots of gymnastic work lately, he did it brilliantly while the other girls all had trouble.

  “No. No. No,” Dad yelled at them. “Watch Emily and Bluebird. See how she uses her legs to give him enough impulsion to get down the line.”

  Jess glared at me and I looked away. She’d been the worst of the group, letting Hashtag run out of steam and plowing through the last fence time and time again. The other girls all looked curiously at me, probably wondering where I had come from and why I now appeared to be the teacher’s favorite. It wasn’t exactly the kind of spotlight I was looking for.

  “Start again and this time, do better,” Dad said.

  Everyone tried harder. Everyone, that was, except Jess. She didn’t seem to care about things like applying the corrections my father gave her or trying to do better. She just carried on doing the same thing over and over again like she was expecting Hashtag to suddenly just get it right on his own without any help from her at all.

  “Get off,” Dad finally told Jess.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”