15

Double

“Back to work, riders!” Mr. Harper calls. “Teee-rot!”

We finish our practice. But we’re all unusually quiet. Even our horses seem to be worried about Colt and Bullet. Misty, Cassie’s pony, balks and refuses to canter. Even easygoing Dusty proves to be a handful for Rashawn. The big horse keeps trying to exit the arena. Several of the kids leave early without bothering to give Mr. Harper an excuse.

I stick it out until the end of our horsemanship session. Then I cool Spirit down and brush her. I don’t want her to get a chill on the ride back to the Harpers’ stable.

It’s not until all Mr. Harper’s horses have been loaded into the trailer that I realize I don’t have a ride home. The other horses and riders have left the fairgrounds. Except Larissa. Her driver is here with the trailer, waiting to take Custer’s Darling Delight back to K. C. Stables.

“You need a lift?” Mr. Harper double-checks the trailer hitch before climbing into his truck. Ashley is already snapping her seat belt next to him.

There’s not much room in the truck for me. Plus, my house is in the opposite direction. I don’t want Spirit and the other horses to have a longer ride home.

“I’m good, Mr. Harper. Thanks. And thanks again for letting me ride Spirit.” I back away from the trailer.

Ashley leans in front of her dad. “Call me, Ellie. We’ll go riding. Or go to a movie or something. Okay?”

“Deal,” I answer, knowing Ashley would rather go to a movie. And I’d rather ride.

I wave at them until they’re out of sight. I’m not sure I realized what good friends Ashley and her dad are to me.

I could call Mom or Dad to come get me. Or I could walk.

I decide to walk home. I’m not in any hurry to get back. If I had Dream, we’d take off on a long ride together. I hope Grayson realizes what a great horse Dream is. And I hope he stops calling her Jinx.

I haven’t gotten far when I hear horse’s hooves coming up behind me. The steps are light and sharp. This horse is prancing. I turn around to see who could be following me.

No way. “Larissa?”

Custer is high-stepping, getting closer with each hoof beat. The poor horse’s eyes are bulging, and his mouth is open. Slobber drips to the ground as his nostrils flare. This horse has probably never been out on a real road before.

“What are you doing riding on the street?” I ask Larissa. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Larissa on a horse outside an arena.

“It’s a free country,” she answers.

“So where’s Custer’s trailer?” I glance behind her and see the trailer creeping across the fairgrounds, coming our way.

“I told my driver to follow me,” Larissa says.

I move beside Custer so he won’t run over me. The giant trailer, empty, is now inching up on us. “Why?”

“I—I thought you might need a ride home,” she answers.

“That’s okay,” I say. “I’m good.”

Larissa looks like she just lost the trophy at a horse show. “B-but I knew you rode here double on Bullet. Colt’s gone. You could ride double with me.”

“On Custer?”

“Yes.”

I’m pretty sure Larissa Richland has never let anyone ride her horse, single or double.

She pats Custer’s narrow rump behind her English saddle. “Please?” she whispers. Her eyes are red, and I think I see tears leaking out. “Ellie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t want you to lose Dream. I know everybody thinks it’s my fault. And they’re right. But I’d never have blogged at all if I’d known you’d lose your horse. You have to believe me. I wish I’d never put up that story.”

This is a Larissa I don’t know. I’m not sure what to say to this Larissa.

“Ellie, I know how much you loved Dream. I love to ride. I love to show. But you loved your horse. I can tell the difference. And now because of me, you don’t have her anymore.”

“It’s not really your fault. It just happened.” The words come out before I have a chance to think about what I’m saying.

“How can you say that?” she asks. “Everybody else believes I did this on purpose.”

I think about the way kids have been staying away from Larissa. I guess I’ve been focusing on myself so much I haven’t given that much thought. I’ve blamed her too. “I’m sorry, Larissa.”

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry! I said it first!”

“Now that’s the Larissa I know,” I say, grinning.

Larissa almost laughs.

I stare at Custer’s Darling Delight, then at Larissa. “So are you going to give me a hand up or not?” I ask.

She takes her foot out of the stirrup, and I put my foot in to climb up.

Once I’m on Custer’s back, he seems even taller than he did from the ground. And bonier. Much bonier.

“You okay back there?” Larissa asks.

“I’m okay,” I answer. I laugh on the inside because I’ve been saying that a lot lately. I’m okay.

We ride for a while without talking. Then Larissa says, “How are you making it, Ellie? Without Dream, I mean?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?” she says.

So I tell her what I told Colt. “I guess I can stand losing anything—even Dream—as long as I still have God.”

She turns onto my street. “But don’t you miss Dream?” Larissa asks.

“I miss Dream so much it hurts,” I admit. “Sometimes I imagine that I see her. She’ll put her head through my window so I can pet her. Or I imagine that she comes galloping up the road to me. It’s so real in my mind, I almost feel like she’s there. Her smell. The sound of her hooves. Her mane flying in the wind.”

I stop because I’m imagining that scene right this minute, as real as I’ve ever imagined anything. “Like now, for instance. I can almost see my horse galloping toward me—”

“Ellie, me too!” Larissa cries. “That is Dream!”