Stable Vices (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 21) Read online

  Missy had tears in her eyes and I knew she’d just revealed a hidden part of herself to me. I thought that she’d given up the show life for motherhood because of her love for Owen but maybe it was more than that. Maybe there was a Bluebird in her past too. One she hadn’t been able to let go of either.

  “I have to get showered,” I said. “Dad is expecting me out in the ring.”

  “I think you are a tough kid,” Missy said. “And I think you can hack it. You’re just feeling vulnerable right now because it’s been a tough week. The feelings will pass.”

  But I didn’t know if I wanted them to. I wanted to care about my pony and love him more than anything in the world because well, wasn’t that the whole point?

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  I hated it when my father was right but I dragged myself and Socks out to the ring feeling like the last thing on earth that I wanted to do was ride and yet as soon as he gave me a leg up, I felt instantly better.

  Socks was fresh. His training had been inconsistent lately. Missy had ridden him a few times but he’d also been used for lessons. I had no idea where his head was going to be at or even if he’d be ready for a show but that didn’t stop my father from expecting us to train like we were, even though the committee hadn’t said yes yet. And now that I was up in the saddle, I somehow thought that maybe they would let me. That my father’s hair brained scheme wasn’t so hair brained after all.

  Socks hopped and jumped about beneath me and it was all I could do to think on my toes and stay in the saddle, to remember how to ride him because he was so different than Bluebird. He didn’t like to be contained and you had to let him think that most of what you asked him to do was his idea in the first place.

  “There is no point trying to make him crazy by drilling flatwork into him,” Dad said as he moved some jumps about. “Walk, trot, canter both ways and then lets jump him.”

  “Sounds good,” I replied.

  I had a million thoughts running through my head. Not too heavy on the reins, keep the contact light. Legs supporting but not too strong. Go with him when he’s silly. Don’t get mad, he’ll only fight you. Thinking about every stride and riding Socks through every second, there was no room in my head for sick ponies or vet hospitals or anything else.

  “Good,” Dad said when I got a relatively calm canter out of him. “Do this line, the cross rail to the vertical and then across the ring to the oxer.”

  I nodded and cleared my head. When it came to jumping I found it was best to not think about anything at all. Instead I placed Socks in the middle of the fence and he sprung over it, cantering quietly to the vertical and then around to the oxer.

  “And halt,” Dad called out as Socks got a little quick.

  He had a habit of bolting after fences, one that I’d been lucky enough to avoid when I’d ridden him but more than once he’d bolted with Missy out of the ring after a round, which was how I got the ride on him in the first place. But I found that instead of fighting with him and getting all up in his face, the trick was to drop the reins and the contact. I did so at the end of the ring and he came to a stop. After I’d asked him to back up a couple of paces, I patted his neck.

  “We’ve still got it boy,” I whispered.

  And it turned out that Missy was right too. This wasn’t just about me and Bluebird. Jumping was in my veins and I knew that I’d do it until the day I died no matter what happened.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  I slept with my phone on my pillow in case the vet clinic called. Frankie said that when Quantum had first been there they had called her several times in the night and once her parents had even dashed her over there, fearing the worst. I felt bad for her. If Bluebird was a sick as Quantum then I would have been a basket case and I wouldn’t have been able to leave at all no matter what anyone said. They would have had to drag me away kicking and screaming and I still would have tried to find a way back in. As it was I didn’t think I’d sleep but I was so exhausted that I fell asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  I’d ridden Four after Socks and like any young, green horse that hadn’t been worked in a few days, he had given me much more trouble than Socks had. Dad took pity on me and started giving me pointers, which turned into a whole lesson but Four didn’t like the normal responsible horse things I asked him to do like pick his head up off the floor. He liked to go around with it lagging down around his knees, a nod back to his western days, and every time I tried to collect him he’d still throw his head up and try to rear.

  “Light contact, light,” Dad had yelled at me as Four threw his head back so fast and hard that he almost broke my nose.

  “It is light,” I yelled back. “Look, I’m hardly holding the reins at all.”

  “We had his teeth done, didn’t we?” Dad said as I let Four stand still for a second so that we could both collect our composure before one of us really lost our temper.

  “Yes,” I said. “And it didn’t help.”

  “I wonder if we should try him in a hackamore?” he said, reaching out for Four’s mouth.

  My naughty trainee snatched his head away, ears pinned.

  “Maybe someone hit him in the head a lot or something?” I said. “He hates having his ears touched too.”

  “Maybe,” Dad said. “But if you want to sell him, we are going to have to get him over this issue.”

  “Of course I want to sell him,” I said.

  “I mean, if you want anyone to buy him,” Dad replied. “You know that you can’t even give away a green horse with mental issues, right?”

  “Tomorrow I’ll try the hackamore,” I said. “And if a bitless bridle doesn’t fix him, we’ll just have to think of something else.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” Dad said but I knew that his mind was already on something else.

  Selling a marginally talented green horse was not going to bring in the kind of cash we needed. And if we were ever going to crawl out of the debt hole that we’d fallen into we were either going to have to win the lottery or start selling some of our really good horses, both of which sounded highly unlikely because without our good horses we had nothing and the chances of winning the lottery were pretty much eleven billion to one.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  The next morning I was up bright and early and ready to go but Dad was like some old, cranky dragon who hobbled into the kitchen, complaining of a stiff body and demanding hot coffee.

  “Here,” I said, handing him a cup. “When can we go?”

  “Give me some time to come round,” Dad moaned. “I have to eat my breakfast first.”

  “Okay,” I said, swallowing down the cry of protest I really wanted to make.

  Dad picked up his cup and hobbled off to the living room where he switched on the TV and sat on the couch. It was his new routine. Pre broken ankle Dad would have been down at the barn already, making sure that all the grooms had shown up for work and that everything was getting done but post broken ankle Dad had delegated that job to Missy and didn’t seem too bothered about taking it back.

  “The baby is crying,” I said as Owen started to wail.

  It had been their trade off. Dad got to sleep in and in return he had to take care of the baby. He wasn’t very good at that either.

  “What?” Dad said, already distracted by the cars on the TV that were speeding mindlessly round and round in circles and making noises like hummingbirds on steroids.

  “The baby is crying,” I said, this time slower. “You know, your baby? Your poor, hungry, poopy diapered son?”

  “You’ll do it, won’t you?” Dad said. “You know, if you want me to get my breakfast and hurry up.”

  “Fine,” I said. “But can you at least try to pretend like you are going to hurry?”

  He didn’t answer and I knew that he had absolutely no intention of hurrying whatsoever.

  Baby Owen was in his crib. He was learning how to stand and so was trying to pull himself up on the railings and
then flopping down on his butt with a wet splat.

  “You’re just making it worse,” I told him as I picked him up and put him on the changing table. “Do you want your butt to be even grosser than it already is?”

  He’d been crying and his face was all red, his big blue eyes glassy and wet.

  “Come on,” I told him. “It’s not that bad.”

  I pulled his onesie off and tickled him. He started to giggle. It was weird to think that he was my half-brother, that I was related to this little person who would one day grow into a really big person.

  “When you are a dad,” I said as I changed his diaper. “And your daughter has a sick pony and really needs to get to the vet clinic as soon as possible, I want you to hurry up and not make her wait while you eat breakfast and take forever. Okay?”

  Owen made a gurgling noise.

  “That means yes, right?”

  I picked him up and took him through to the kitchen where I fed him a bottle, glad to see that Dad was finally munching on some toast. Lately baby duty had fallen more and more on my shoulders and I just couldn’t see what the appeal was. Mickey kept going on and on about how great babies were and I loved Owen, I just couldn’t see what was so awesome about a little human who pooped and cried all the time and couldn’t do anything himself. Maybe when he got older and I could train him to be my little minion, I’d appreciate him more.

  “Are you almost ready?” I asked Dad, balancing Owen on my hip.

  “Sure, almost,” Dad said, looking down at his pajamas like he forgot he was still wearing them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  By the time we got to the vet hospital it was the middle of the morning and I was mad. Mad that my father had taken so long and upset that my pony probably thought that I’d abandoned him. Instead of sitting in the front of the truck next to him, I was in the back doing my school work and biting my tongue so that I wouldn’t get into trouble by saying something I shouldn’t because even though I was mad at him for taking so long, I was also grateful that he was taking me at all because otherwise I wouldn’t have had any other way to get there. Well, I could have called Jordan but that would have been a whole other thing that I wasn’t ready to deal with. I couldn’t wait until October when I’d finally be able to get my learners permit and start figuring out how to drive.

  When we got there I didn’t even wait for Dad, I just jumped out of the truck as soon as it stopped and ran across the parking lot and into the barn.

  “Bluebird,” I called out. “I’m here.”

  For a moment I didn’t hear anything and a million horrible thoughts flashed through my head, things like the fact that maybe something really bad had happened to him but that they hadn’t wanted to call me because it was too late anyway. But then I heard a nicker. My pony was standing there with his nose pressed against the bars looking decidedly better.

  “You’re okay.”

  I pushed open his door and threw my arms around his neck. He snuffled my pockets for carrots, something that he hadn’t done since he’d been sick and I choked back the tears. He still had his IV in so they had obviously been treating him overnight but I didn’t even care what it was that they had given him or even if they had figured out what he had. All that mattered was that he was better and that was good enough for me.

  “Look,” I told Dad as he finally made his way into the barn. “He’s okay.”

  “I knew I should have brought the trailer,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you know how much another night in this place is going to cost?”

  But he reached out and gave Bluebird a workmanlike pat on the neck and I knew that even though he pretended that he didn’t care, he really did.

  “Maybe we can take him home later,” I said. “When you come to pick me up?”

  “Let’s see what his vets have to say first,” Dad said. “I want to know what they’ve been doing.”

  “Me too,” I said. “And I have to find Frankie and tell her the good news.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  The vets started making their rounds before I had a chance to go and find Frankie.

  “He’s better.” I smiled at Dr. Brown, who today I now liked again.

  “He’s definitely improving,” he said. “His fever is down and he’s eating. Looks like you should be able to take him home tomorrow.”

  “Really?” I said, my heart fluttering excitedly.

  “Not today?” Dad asked.

  “I’d like to give him another twenty four hours of treatment,” the vet said. “Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Treatment for what?” I asked. “What was wrong with him?”

  “Good question,” Dr. Brown replied. “We started him on a different intravenous antibiotic and after what you said I gave him a broad spectrum anti-toxin just to be on the safe side. Which one worked? I can’t really tell you.”

  “So he was poisoned,” I said.

  “We can’t know for sure.” Dr. Brown shook his head.

  “But you can test him again, can’t you?”

  “Testing for every toxin would be time consuming and cost prohibitive. I assume you don’t want to spend hundreds or maybe even thousands of dollars on testing when the pony is getting better anyway.”

  “No,” Dad said. “We don’t.”

  “But Dad,” I said. “If we find out what it was then I’d know it was Jess. We could have her arrested or something.”

  “You still wouldn’t have proof that it was her.” Dad shook his head. “You’re going to have to let it go.”

  “I can’t,” I said.

  “You don’t have a choice. Enjoy the fact that your pony is getting better and this time tomorrow you’ll be bringing him home.”

  I nodded and tried to smile but I knew that I was never going to let it go. If it was really Jess, who was to say that she wouldn’t try again and the next time succeed? I’d have to find the proof that she’d poisoned my pony one way or another and then I’d have to do something about it. People couldn’t go around hurting other people’s horses. It was sick and twisted and it wasn’t fair.

  “You okay to stay for a while and I’ll pick you up later?” Dad said. “Or do you want to come back with me now that you know he is okay?”

  I looked at my cheeky chestnut pony, pressing his soft sweet nose against the bars and begging for treats.

  “No, I want to stay,” I said.

  “Alright. I’ll see you later.” He gave me a quick hug and then he was gone.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Frankie was in the lounge, sitting on the same couch just like the day before, only today she was on her laptop, hunched over the screen like she was really concentrating. I remembered that I’d left mine in the truck but I wasn’t about to chase after my father and have him change his mind about letting me stay. I knew he’d have a good argument for saying that I had horses back at Fox Run that needed to be worked but I wanted to stay here with my pony. At least I’d done most of my school work on the way to the clinic.

  “Hey,” I said, flopping down next to her. “Did you see Bluebird? He’s getting better. They said he might even get to come home tomorrow.”

  “Whoopdiedoo,” she said.

  My super good mood fell a couple of notches. Why wasn’t she happy for me? I’d be happy for her if Quantum was improving. Suddenly I realized that I hadn’t seen the big bay horse in his stall when I ran by. Had he just been standing in the back or had he not been in there at all? I’d been so full of my own good news that I hadn’t even looked to see if Frankie’s horse had made it through the night.

  “Is it Quantum?” I asked gently. “Did something happen?”

  I kind of didn’t want to know. My pony was going to get better and come home and I wanted to believe that every sick horse that came through the vet clinic did the same. That they were all fixed and sent back to their owners to live long, healthy lives but I knew that wasn’t the case.

  “He’s not …?” I couldn’t say the word. Dead
. It sounded so final.

  “They took him to get some x-rays of his feet,” she said. “They think his coffin bones are rotating.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

  I didn’t know much about founder and laminitis but I knew enough to know that if the coffin bone rotated too much there wasn’t anything you could do. The bone would try to push through the sole of the hoof and it was pretty much like torture. The kindest thing was to put the horse down. Really, you were doing them a favor no matter how much it didn’t feel like it.

  “Don’t be,” Frankie said, her face screwed up. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I want you to help me.”

  “Help you do what?”

  “Find a treatment that will save my horse,” she said, looking at me with wild, black eyes.

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  I was kind of glad I’d left my laptop behind but that didn’t stop Frankie from making me look up articles on my phone. All I wanted to do was go back into the barn and hang out with my pony. I didn’t want to watch this girl I hardly knew have a meltdown because I knew that was what was going to happen. She said that they couldn’t put her horse to sleep without her permission but I had a feeling that if he got too sick, if his pain couldn’t be controlled with meds anymore and there was no hope at all, they wouldn’t let him suffer. They would force her to euthanize him whether she wanted to or not.