17 

JUMP-OFF

I PRACTICALLY SKIPPED TO RIDING PRACTICE after my conversation with Jacob. I knew Jacob would still have to tell Callie, but at least it wasn’t happening today. And for now, I could focus on practicing for the show. I walked down the stable aisle, and Heather darted out of Aristocrat’s stall.

“Guess who’s in a meeting in Mr. Conner’s office?” I asked.

“Who?”

I kept walking toward the tack room with Heather following me.

“Mr. Conner asked Julia, Alison, and Callie into his office,” Heather said.

“For what?”

Heather and I gathered our horses’ tack into our arms.

“YENT tryouts,” Heather said.

“Ohhhh. Whoa. I knew that was coming. When do you think it is?”

“No clue,” Heather said. “Soon, I assume.”

We walked back down the aisle, and I paused by Aristocrat’s stall. “It’s going to be interesting,” I said.

“They’re all going to fight for it—you know that,” Heather said. “I told Julia and Alison not to slow at practice for a second because I watched Callie and she was good.”

“She is good,” I said. “But Julia and Alison can hold their own.”

Heather put Aristocrat’s tack on the trunk outside his stall. “It’s really anybody’s seat, but I think Julia and Alison are already feeling defeated. And they can’t go into it with that attitude.”

“Agreed. Or they’re giving up before they’ve even started.”

Heather looked at me, almost as if she was studying me. “You know, you used to talk a lot and I never listened to you. I still don’t, most of the time, but that was actually good.”

“Wow, thanks a lot,” I said. “I’m glad to hear it.”

I half rolled my eyes at her and walked away. Just as I was stepping away from Aristocrat’s stall, Julia and Alison hurried over to Heather.

“Omigod!” they both said at the same time.

“What?” Heather asked.

I stopped, looking at both of them.

“Testing’s next week,” Julia said. “We test next week. I can’t even believe it.”

“That’s great,” Heather said. She led Aristocrat out of his stall and tied him to the iron bars in front of his stall. “It’ll give you just enough time to fine-tune things, but not too much time to get crazy nervous.”

Julia and Alison both blew out a giant breath at the same time.

“True,” Alison said, wiping a wisp of hair out of her face. “At first, I was like, ‘Omigod! That’s way too soon.’ But you’re right. I’d rather test and just know.”

“You’ll both do great,” I said. “You would have been ready the first time if Jasmine hadn’t gotten in the way.”

“Thanks,” Alison said. She rubbed her palms on her chocolate-colored breeches. “It’s really crunch time now.” She and Julia started talking about their practice plans and how they were going to not only ride more, but also watch DVDs and clips online of shows for examples.

I smiled at The Trio, leaving them to plan their YENT strategy, and headed for Charm’s stall.

All I could think about was the reality of the situation. Three talented riders were up for one slot on the YENT. Two of them weren’t going to make it. In my gut, I knew Callie deserved it, but I also liked Alison and Julia, even though Julia was snotty to me sometimes. They were all dedicated riders. I’d feel bad for whoever didn’t make it.

“Hey, mister,” I said when I reached Charm’s stall. “How’s it going?”

Charm nickered at me, so softly it was barely audible. I opened his stall door and wrapped my arms around him. He smelled like sweet hay and grain. I reached under his chin and clipped his leather lead line to the ring under his halter.

I led him into the aisle, finding a free pair of cross-ties at the end of the stable.

I clipped him into the crossties and grabbed his tack box, moving it closer to him. Grooming Charm was one of my favorite things to do—it made me feel closer him. I started by picking his hooves, then switched to a body brush. His coat was clean enough that he didn’t need the stiffer bristles of the dandy brush. Pieces of hay clung to the underside of his belly, and I swiped them off with the brush.

After I groomed him, I placed his saddle pad on top of his back and smoothed the quilted white pad. I placed his saddle gently on top of his back and did something I hadn’t in a while—I inspected his saddle. I checked the stirrup leathers for wear, made sure none of the buckles for his girth showed any signs of stress and looked at the rubber inserts in the stirrup irons to make sure the grips weren’t worn down.

“Everything looks good, boy,” I said. “I still have to clean all of your tack before the show, but at least I know it’s safe.”

I took off his halter and placed the reins over his head. I bridled him easily and inspected his bridle just as I had his saddle. Nothing was worn, and we were set to ride.

I led him back to his stall, grabbing my helmet from my trunk. After snapping it on, I led Charm to the indoor arena.

Brit and Heather, already inside, were riding side by side and giggling. They smiled at me when I led Charm inside and mounted. I rode him up to them and eased him into a trot to join them.

“We were just talking about how we are so over Katie James,” Brit said. “Her last six movies have been romantic comedy flops. It’s ridiculous.”

“The girl needs an acting class, seriously,” Heather said, shaking her head. “She just keeps getting cast because her dad’s some big Hollywood producer.”

“Ugh, that’s so gross,” I said. “I didn’t know that about her dad. Lame.”

“Very,” Brit said, nodding.

We rode the horses side by side at a posting trot, then let them into canters. Charm shook out his mane and moved next to Apollo. The two horses had already become friends, and Charm didn’t seem to be as competitive with Apollo as he was with Aristocrat. Maybe that was an old habit that would never go away.

Mr. Conner walked into the arena, nodding at us. “Good afternoon, girls,” he said. “I hope you’re all ready to get to work. This will be the last practice before the show. Saturday, you’re more than welcome to practice on your own, but if you think you and your horse need a break, then take it. Don’t push yourself too hard for the first show of the season.”

We nodded at him.

“If everyone’s horses are warmed up, then we’re going to work on show jumping today,” Mr. Conner said. “I’ve designed a course of five jumps that you’re going to ride once forward and then turn around and take in the opposite direction. All of the jumps are verticals—they just vary in height and spacing. I want you to treat this as a jump-off and give a clean, but fast ride as if you’re racing the clock. Brit, I’d like you to go first.”

Brit didn’t waste any time. She heeled Apollo forward and the gelding’s wavy gray tail floated behind him as they made their way to the first jump.

Brit rose in the saddle at the right moment, moving her hands up along Apollo’s neck. They landed, his hooves not even coming close to touching the rail, and Brit kept him at a fast canter. Within seconds, they’d cleared the second, third, and fourth verticals. I couldn’t look away, I didn’t even want to blink—afraid I’d miss something. There was more room between the four and fifth jump, so Brit let Apollo increase his speed a notch more. The gelding flew forward and tucked his legs under his body as he cleared the highest vertical.

I cheered in my head. That had been a gorgeous ride. Brit turned Apollo in a wide circle, and they took the course backward. Again, she kept him at a canter that neared a slow gallop, and both horse and rider had beautiful form.

After the last jump, Brit slowed Apollo and rode him back to us. There was a tiny smile on her face.

“Excellent,” Mr. Conner said. “You kept up a great pace, but didn’t rush him. I’m quite impressed.”

Brit blushed. “Thank you,” she said.

“Heather,” Mr. Conner said. “You may go.”

Heather seemed to be fueled by Mr. Conner’s comments to Brit. She let Aristocrat leap into a slow gallop toward the first fence, slowing him just before they got too close. In between each jump, she somehow managed to keep him at a canter that verged on a gallop without coming close to touching a rail. When she turned around to take the course in the opposite direction, I couldn’t believe what I’d seen. I’d thought Brit’s ride had been perfect—impossible to beat. But had it been a real jump-off, Heather would have won.

Heather rode Aristocrat over, not even bothering to hide the cocky smirk on her face.

“That was a daring ride,” Mr. Conner said. “Aristocrat was moving so fast that he could have knocked one or all of the jumps. You took a huge risk, but it paid off. That’s what jump-offs are about. Being safe is always a top priority, but racing against the clock while riding clean is what you need to win.”

Heather almost glowed from the compliment. She and Aristocrat were so in tune, she probably could have taken him at a slow gallop over the course and he would have made it.

Mr. Conner looked at me. “Sasha, whenever you’re ready.”

I trotted Charm away from the group, then let him in a fast canter. There was no way I’d let him even approach a gallop—not with the way he’d been rushing the last jump lately. We’d have to do our best at this pace.

We flew over the first and second verticals and Charm landed without a pause before he tore off for the third. For a second, I panicked, thinking he’d taken off too late and would drag the rail down with his back hooves. But he somehow managed to clear the rail. I slowed him a fraction before we reached the fourth vertical, and he listened to my cues. He jumped the final two jumps with ease before I turned him back around to take the course again.

We completed it with a clean ride and, grinning, I rode back to the group.

“I’m impressed, Sasha,” Mr. Conner said. “I know you probably felt pressure from the imaginary clock, but you know Charm and his habits. He would have rushed the jump and probably taken it down. You made the right call by keeping him a slower pace. I’m proud of your decision.”

“Thank you,” I said. I patted Charm’s neck and he bowed it, proud of his performance.

“Let’s run through a few flatwork exercises and then you can cool your horses,” Mr. Conner said. “Everyone please move out to the wall.”

And for the next half hour, Brit, Heather, and I worked as a team to sharpen our YENT skills.