Barn Sour (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 26) Page 5

  “I need to know about you and Taylor,” I said. “She is making things weird between me and Jordan. She doesn’t want me to see him and now every time she sees us together she freaks out and it's only been since you came back to town.”

  “I don’t know why,” Dad said, his shoulders hunched over.

  “You do know,” I said. “You must know something. Please.”

  “I really can’t discuss it with you,” he said.

  I climbed down so that I was level with him.

  “Dad, I’m fifteen now,” I said. “I’m old enough to know things. I know you think you are trying to protect me but you can’t. I need to know.”

  “Fine,” he said. “Taylor and I had a thing.”

  “A thing?” I said, feeling a little shocked. “Did you cheat on Mom?”

  “No, of course not,” he said. “This was before I met your mother.”

  “So what then? You broke her heart? You dumped her? I don’t get it?”

  I picked out a piece of hay and twirled it around my finger until it felt like it was cutting off the circulation. I didn’t really want to know all the details of my father’s love life. It was weird to think of him like that. As far as I was concerned he was Dad. My dad. I didn’t like to think too much about dating dad. He’d already been with Missy when I first got to know him again so that hadn’t seemed weird but somehow this did.

  “Nothing like that,” Dad said. “We were on the show circuit together. We had some fun, went on the road together and then one day she just left.”

  “So she was the one who left you?” I said. “What happened?”

  “Eventually I found out that she went away to college. Business school or some such thing. I think that she just got bored with me and the whole horse thing but I really have no idea why that would have anything to do with you.”

  “Me either,” I said.

  We both sat there for a few moments in silence. There were the sounds of the birds outside and the horses in the barn, shifting in their stalls or munching on some leftover lunch hay. A ray of sunlight shone through the skylight in the roof and lit up a patch of ground. It made me think of Jordan’s black cat and I realized I’d forgotten to ask his name.

  “Since you are in such a talkative mood, fancy telling me more about Summer?” I asked gently.

  “Girl, you will be the death of me,” Dad said but he had a smile on his face. He stood up and stretched out his hand to help me up. “How about a trail ride instead?”

  “Really?” I asked.

  My father rarely offered to ride with me. In fact I wasn’t sure he was even into it that much.

  “Of course, it will be fun.” He grinned.

  “Cool, I’ll tack up Bluebird,” I said.

  “How about you take Oscar instead,” Dad said.

  Which squashed that one moment of joy I’d felt at galloping over the fields with my father on my pony because I didn’t think Oscar would be doing much galloping unless it was back to the barn, probably without me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “We are not getting anywhere,” I said an hour later.

  We were still at the end of the drive. Oscar was starting to make a hole in the dirt where he kept going backwards and forwards. He was just getting more and more worked up about it and I didn’t think it was worth the hassle. I knew what Dad was thinking, that taking the horse’s new best friend along would be encouragement for him but even though Oscar loved Canterbury, he wasn’t prepared to leave the farm for him.

  “I made a deal with Cora,” Dad said. “That she would stay if we’d get Oscar to go on trail rides.”

  “You did what?” I squeaked. “Why on earth would you agree to something like that? Did she at least pay? Jordan said they had to ban her from the tack store because she kept buying things and then returning them.”

  “She paid,” Dad said.

  “Well at least that is something,” I said. “And you deposited the check?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “I’ve been a bit busy lately.”

  “Well you’d better get busy going to the bank tomorrow,” I said. “For all we know that check might bounce.”

  “How do you know so much about business all of a sudden?” Dad asked.

  “I told you before,” I said. “Virtual school is awesome. I figured the business class would come in handy now that we are running our own.”

  “Great,” Dad said. “Do you do taxes too?”

  “Um no,” I said as Oscar scuttled backwards. “Maybe I should get off and lead him.”

  “Yes that will please Cora no end. We trained your horse to trail ride but you have to get off and lead him on foot the whole way.” Dad shook his head.

  Canterbury put his head down and started eating the grass. Dad let him.

  “Well what do you suggest then?” I said. “Do you want to have a go?”

  “Not really,” Dad said.

  “Come on, let’s swap. Your legs are stronger than mine are.” I already had my feet out of the stirrups ready to jump off but Dad wasn’t going for it.

  “Fine,” he said. “Get off and lead him, at least away from here. You can get back on down the lane.”

  “If we can get him that far,” I said, slithering to the ground and running up my stirrups.

  I patted Oscar on the neck. He was trembling.

  “I don’t see why we have to make him do this,” I said. “He likes to jump. Why can’t we just let him do the thing that he enjoys and forget about the rest?”

  “Because that is not what we are getting paid for,” Dad said.

  “We might not even be getting paid at all,” I grumbled under my breath.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  I led Oscar down the road, trying to keep out of his way as he danced and fretted. The last thing I needed was him stepping on my foot again. My toe didn’t hurt quite as much now but it still looked all purple and black and I was pretty sure the nail was going to fall off at some point, which was gross. I tried not to look at it too much when I took a shower and then quickly taped it to the next toe after drying it off so that it wouldn't wiggle around in my boots and hurt as much. It was a good job we didn’t have a show this month. I don’t think my toe could have taken it.

  Oscar was a quivering bundle of nerves beside me but now that we’d actually got him off the property, he was keen to keep up with Canterbury and since my father’s horse had a bigger stride, he kept breaking into a trot to catch up.

  “Think I should get back on now?” I asked Dad as Oscar swung away and then came back, bumping into me. “At least I’ll have more control.”

  “If you think so,” Dad said, not really sounding concerned.

  But he wasn’t the one being dragged around by a scared horse and he wouldn’t be the one who lost Oscar if the horse did something really stupid and snatched the reins from my sweaty hands. I really should have remembered to grab my gloves but they were sitting back in the barn on top of the grooming box and it was too late to go back now.

  I let the stirrups down and hopped up into the saddle after flipping the reins over his head. I could feel every muscle tense in the horse beneath me, his body rock solid against my legs, his mouth dead and unresponsive.

  “It’s like he just shuts down when he gets out here,” I said. “If he takes off, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop him.”

  “Just circle him,” Dad said. “If he takes off.”

  This advice wasn’t exactly helpful because I could be going round and round in circles forever and as dead as the horse’s mouth felt, I wasn’t even sure that I’d be able to circle him at all.

  We crossed the road and went into the field. So far we hadn’t got in trouble for riding on it and the gate was always open. I hoped that the farmer didn’t mind. I didn’t want to lose the only access we had to the trails and even though they were scary trails they were at least better than no trails at all.

  “Maybe a trot will loosen him up,” Dad said.

&n
bsp; And before I could reply he was powering Canterbury into a massive, ground covering trot and Oscar burst into a ragged canter just to keep up.

  “Easy boy,” I said, rubbing his neck. “It’s going to be okay.”

  His ears swiveled back and forth as he listened to my voice but all he really cared about was catching up with the other horse and not being left behind and I wasn’t going to have any control over him until I did. But to be honest his canter was nice and comfortable. I sat there and let him do his thing and I didn’t try to stop him or slow him down, something which he seemed confused about. I expect that Cora had done a lot of sawing on his mouth when he did stuff like that whereas I just let him get on with it. He wasn’t hurting anybody by trying to catch up to his buddy and once he did, he settled into a relatively nice trot.

  “See,” Dad said. “He’s fine.”

  “Yeah, right.” I just nodded. My father had no idea.

  Except the cows were out on the other side of the stream. They raised their heads when they saw us approaching and one of them let out a loud noise that didn’t sound anything like a moo. It was more like a get away from us before we kill you noise.

  Oscar froze. He went completely rigid. Dad was still trotting ahead. He hadn’t even noticed that anything was wrong.

  “We’ve got a problem here,” I called out.

  Dad turned around to look. “Kick him,” he said.

  “I don’t think that is going to help,” I said.

  I didn’t know what to do. My legs were ineffective against Oscar’s sides. His head was high and ears pricked but every muscle in his body was poised to run like an arrow waiting to be set free from a bow and I knew that if I didn’t do something, he was going to take off and he was going to take me with him.

  “Dad?” I said.

  “It’s okay,” Dad said, no doubt hearing the panic rising up in my voice. “Try and turn him away from the cows and back home.”

  “I’ve tried that,” I said, trying to sound calm. “He’s like a statue.”

  “Well maybe just get off him then,” Dad said. “You can control him better from the ground.”

  But just as he said that one of the smaller cows came forward and made a sort of screeching, bellowing sound and Oscar lost it. He reared up, striking out at the cow even though it was nowhere near us and then he spun on his heels and took off at a gallop.

  “Hold on,” Dad yelled after me. “Hold on.”

  Which was dumb because of course I was holding on. What choice did I have?

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Oscar flew across the field and all I could think was that we were heading for the road and any potential traffic that might be out there and I couldn't let that happen. I see-sawed on his dead mouth but he didn’t even miss a beat. I tried pulling on one rein so that his head was turned sideways but he galloped on anyway.

  Panic rose up in the back of my throat like bile. Was this really it? Was this how I was going to die? But suddenly I remembered how Socks liked to take off after the jumps, although he was nowhere near as bad as this, and how dropping the reins helped. So instead of pulling I let go, keeping hold of the reins loosely with no contact at all.

  Oscar slowed a little, seemingly confused. I sat back and tried to relax every muscle in my body. I didn’t tense or brace against him. I willed first my legs, then my torso and finally my arms into wet noodles, soft and pliable. Instead of fighting against Oscar, I went with him. And when he got to the edge of the field and the gap where we rode in and out, he slowed to a trot and by the time he had turned for home, I was back in control.

  I used my voice to slow him to a walk.

  “Whoa boy,” I called out in a sing song voice. “Whoa there.”

  And he did. His hoof beats now a fast walk and his sides puffing in and out as he gulped in the cold air. I let him walk a little way and then I asked him to stop.

  “Good boy,” I said, patting his neck as he stood still, my heart pounding in my chest.

  I wanted to scold the horse. To yell and scream that he could have killed me. That he almost did but that wouldn’t have done any good. Oscar wouldn’t have remembered what he had done. All he would know was that he stopped and then I yelled at him and maybe next time he wouldn’t be so keen to stop again.

  I made him stand there until Dad finally caught up to us.

  “I thought he’d dragged you all the way home,” he said, looking relieved.

  “Not quite,” I said.

  Canterbury and Oscar sniffed noses and then the bay horse sighed like he couldn’t believe the horrible thing he’d just lived through.

  “I lived through it too boy,” I told him as we walked back to our farm. “I lived through it too. Maybe next time we go out we should make sure the cows aren’t as close.”

  “Are you kidding?” Dad replied. “If I could afford to I’d buy one of those cows and stick it in that dumb horse’s paddock.”

  “He’s not dumb,” I said, feeling defensive because in the end Oscar hadn’t hurt me or himself so really it had all turned out okay.

  “And what if he does that at a show?” Dad said.

  “What show?” I laughed. “He’s not here to be trained for shows. He is here for exactly what we are doing, training him to be safe and sane. To go on trail rides and fun rides and whatever else it is that Cora thinks she wants to do with him. He’s not our horse, remember?”

  “But the way he jumps.” Dad shook his head.

  To Dad, any horse that had talent should immediately be prepped for the show ring. He didn’t care if the horse was old or not the right breed or belonged to someone else. He just wanted to shove it in there. And he had the perfect accomplice in me because I wanted to jump all the horses too and Oscar did love to jump. I wished that Cora could see that but I didn’t think she ever would and that meant that training Oscar for the jumpers would be a waste of time.

  “I have to get Hashtag ready,” I said as we turned down our driveway. “Rose’s sister is coming to look at him.”

  “You really don’t think you can make that horse go back in the jumper ring?” Dad asked.

  “He doesn’t want to, Dad,” I said. “It’s not fair to make him do something that he hates now. Jess ruined that for him and I don’t know if he’ll ever get it back but he’ll make a nice hunter. Isn’t that good enough?”

  “I guess so,” Dad said.

  “Plus it will get him off the farm. You’re always going on about how we don’t have enough room for all these horses.”

  “True.” He jumped to the ground and ran up his stirrups. “But what about those light weights over there?” He pointed to Chantilly, Phoenix and Bandit who were all sharing a pile of hay in the small paddock.

  “One step at a time Dad,” I said. “One step at a time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Rose came with her sister later, a tall thin girl who was just as wispy and fragile as Rose was.

  “This is Petal,” Rose said.

  I guess her parents had a thing for flowers. At least Rose got the better end of the deal. I wondered if there was another sibling back at home called Stalk or Leaf.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Emily and this is Hashtag.”

  I had the bay horse out in the cross ties all booted up and ready to go.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were bringing your own saddle or not,” I said.

  “I can just use one of yours,” Petal said with a lazy wave of her hand.

  One of ours basically meant mine or my father's and since Petal was tall but not much bigger than I was, I took the cover off mine and put it on Hashtag, kind of annoyed that I was having to share one of my prized possessions.

  “I think he is sweet,” Rose said, stroking Hashtag’s nose.

  The horse, who was usually stoic and didn’t like to show his emotions very much, got a sappy look on his face.

  “He likes you,” I said, doing up the girth.

  “All horses like Rose,” Peta
l said with a sigh.

  “Do you have a horse now?” I asked her.

  “Yes but I’ve outgrown her,” she said. “I got too tall.”

  I thought of Faith and how she would definitely outgrow Macaroni this summer and how it would break her heart.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “It’s okay,” she said with a sigh. “She was getting to the end of her show career anyway. She’s had her hocks injected more times than I can count. She needs to be retired.”

  Petal said it with a coldness that I’d never heard in Rose’s voice. I’d expected the two sisters to be the same or at least similar but so far all Petal had made me do was resent her a little and not like her very much.

  “So, shall we go out to the ring then?” I said.

  I put Hashtag through his paces first, showing them his best assets on the flat, his low sweeping trot and his rocking horse canter. Then I popped him over a couple of fences. I’d tried to squash them down and even found some branches to add underneath to make them look like a hunter course so that Hashtag wouldn’t think I was trying to make him be a jumper again. He cracked his knees up over them and I could already tell that he was putting on a good show.

  “Ready to ride him?” I asked Petal.

  “Okay,” she said lazily like she didn’t really care.

  “Does your sister not want to try him out?” I asked Rose as the girl walked my horse away.

  I’d had all these dreams that Rose’s sister would be the perfect partner for Hashtag. That she would fall in love with him the moment that she saw him and would throw her arms around his neck, declaring that he was the horse she had been looking for her whole life. So far her enthusiasm was about the same as someone who was trying out an economy car that they were being forced to buy because they didn’t have the money for the luxury model they really wanted.

  “She just doesn’t like to show her emotions,” Rose said.

  Does she even have any emotions? I wanted to ask but I kept my mouth shut. I told Dad that I’d organized this thing and he’d been impressed. If I went and put Petal off now, then I would feel like I was letting our business down.