Elite Ambition (13 page)

I hadn't seen him ride in a while. And I wanted to see how he was doing with Luna—especially after we'd practiced together so much before our breakup. Even thinking about the flea-bitten gray mare made me miss riding with Eric. Charm and Luna had always gotten along, and Luna, a school horse, was the perfect match for Eric.

If Callie was in the arena … she'd ignore me anyway. But thinking about riding with Callie still made my stomach gurgle. It was hard to ride with someone I knew hated me. At least I had Heather in the arena.

I finished tacking up Charm, snapped on my helmet and led him down the aisle. I stopped Charm by Aristocrat as Heather put on her black helmet and, together, we walked the horses down the aisle.

“When Mike told me that our lesson was canceled,”
Heather said. “I thought I'd be upset. But I'm actually kind of glad to work on whatever I want. It'll be good before the schooling show.”

“Agreed,” I said. “I know what Charm and I need to do. I'm glad you wanted to work outside because I needed a jumping partner.”

“As if you're the only one who wants to jump.”

We halted the horses just outside the stable and mounted. Charm and Aristocrat walked over the grass, both horses relaxed with their ears flicking back and forth and their strides even. Months ago, Charm would have sidestepped to get away from Aristocrat, or Heather's horse would have put back his ears back and shot Charm a mean look.

The closer Heather and I became, the less tension there was between our horses. It was definitely better for us as a team if
everyone
—horses included—got along.

We approached the large outdoor arena where a black horse cantered in large circles.

Black Jack.

The horse did a flying lead change as if he could do it all day and crossed over the center of the arena. Suddenly, I didn't know if I could ride with Callie. Even from the entrance the arena felt tiny. Claustrophobia about riding with Callie was taking over.

“Heather,” I whispered. “Maybe we should ride in another arena. It looks like Callie's having a serious practice.”

Heather shook her head, keeping Aristocrat moving toward the arena. “Callie's not intimidating you out of the arena. You're not going to have a talk show moment where you break down, hug, and forgive each other. You're going to
ride
.”

Heather's comment made me smile.

“You're right,” I said. “We're all here to practice. There's no reason to talk or anything.”

“Exactly. Now get focused and let's go.”

Heather let Aristocrat into a faster walk, which made Charm want to catch up. Heather and I approached the dark wooden rail fencing. I didn't want to stare at Callie, but I couldn't help it. We hadn't had a lesson together since I'd made the YENT and she hadn't.

Every riding skill of Callie's that I'd thought had been near perfect was now razor sharp. Callie was going to make the YENT this time. I knew it. Julia and Alison, though both excellent riders, had a tiny chance if that. Callie must have channeled every feeling she'd had about the breakup with Jacob into riding. Her focus had paid off in every way.

“Nice,” Heather said under her breath. “Julia and Alison better be out here practicing.”

All I could manage was a nod. Callie slowed Black Jack to a trot and the Morab tossed his mane, snorting. Charm's ears pointed toward Black Jack—he wanted to practice alongside his friend. But I held him back near Aristocrat.

Callie looked up, spotting Heather and me. There wasn't a bit of animosity or annoyance on her face—instead, she just looked at us with a cool gaze. She turned Black Jack in a circle, then let him into a collected trot.

“Hey, guys.”

Heather and I looked over to see Brit slow her horse beside Charm.

“Hey,” Heather and I said.

“Is there enough room for me to ride in here too?” Brit asked. She held the reins with one hand and adjusted her helmet with the other. “I'm not going to jump—I just want to work on dressage.”

“There's plenty of room,” Heather said. “Go for it.”

Brit flashed a smile and walked Apollo in front of us to an empty corner of the arena.

“Let's go,” Heather said to me. “I'm not spending this entire time staring at Callie. We're here to ride.”

“Right,” I said. After one more deep breath, I squeezed my legs against Charm's sides and he walked forward. Heather and I walked, trotted, and cantered the horses, taking our time to make sure they were warmed up. A couple of times I caught Heather watching Troy, her crush, exercise his horse a few arenas away.

“Coach my jumping first?” Heather asked. “Then, I'll critique you.”

“Deal,” I said, glancing over to see how Brit and Callie were doing. The girls were directly across from each other at the same end of the arena. Callie was doing stretches in her saddle, her feet kicked out of the stirrups.

Her eyes were focused on Brit.

I shifted my gaze to Brit and saw why. Brit and Apollo were working on leg yielding. I couldn't even see Brit cuing Apollo to move. He seemed to shift from invisible signals from her—as if he read her mind and knew what she wanted. Callie had been the best dressage rider in our grade. No question and everyone knew it. But Brit was
good.
As good as Callie. Maybe better. Now, Callie had competition for the YENT with Julia and Alison and a drive to be the best at dressage against Brit.

“Silver!”

Heather's sharp tone made me yank my gaze away from
Callie and Brit. Heather was waiting a few yards from the start of the jump course.

“Sorry,” I said. “Coming!”

Don't get involved,
I told myself. If any tension between Brit and Callie surfaced over dressage, it wasn't my fight. It would probably push Callie that much harder to practice more—if that was even possible. Plus, I didn't expect Brit to be anything less than professional.

I stopped Charm near the middle of the six-jump course. Mr. Conner and Mike changed the jumps almost every week, and Charm and I hadn't practiced on this one yet.

“Can you focus for five minutes, or do I need to find someone else to watch me ride?” Heather asked. She tilted her head as she looked at me.

“I'm focused!” I said. “Seriously. Start whenever you want. I'm ready.”

Heather stared at me for what felt like forever before she pushed her heel against Aristocrat's side and turned him away from the course. She asked him to trot, then let him into an easy canter. I kept my gaze on Heather's posture and the way Aristocrat moved. They were such a tight pair that I knew their mistakes, if any, would be minor. The course wasn't especially challenging either. But it would provide a good workout for us.

Charm seemed to sense that we'd be going soon and that he was watching his competition. Even though the horses were still on the same team—they were competitive with each other.

Heather guided Aristocrat toward the first jump. The gelding tucked his knees gracefully under his body and jumped without hesitation. He looked gorgeous suspended, for even a millisecond, over the red and white rails. Mr. Conner and Mike hadn't left much room between the first jump and another vertical that was taller than the first. But Heather and Aristocrat were ready. Heather lifted slightly out of the saddle at just the right moment, sliding her hands along Aristocrat's neck. Aristocrat took the higher jump as if it was the same height as the first.

Heather guided him over an oxer, another vertical, and a second oxer. I kept my focus on both of them, looking for any missteps. But Aristocrat and Heather
owned
the course. They cantered in a half circle, preparing for the last vertical. The hunter green and gold poles were higher than any of the previous jumps on the course. Aristocrat, excited by the jump, moved at a faster clip—rushing the jump. Heather's fingers closed around the reins and she did a half halt, asking him to slow.

Aristocrat slowed, listening to Heather's cue, but
still took off a few inches too close to the jump. His knees knocked the top rail and it tumbled to the ground. Heather let him canter for a few more strides before pulling him to a trot, then finally a walk. She patted his neck, but shook her head.

“What's the verdict?” Heather asked.

I shifted in the saddle. “It was a perfect round until the final jump. Aristocrat didn't respond in time to your cue, so maybe you need to work him through a refresher with flatwork and then try the course again.”

Heather nodded. “That's a good idea. What about my posture?”

“Your legs slid too far forward a few times, but, otherwise, you were great.”

Heather smiled. “Thanks. After I watch you jump, I'll do flatwork.”

“Sounds good.”

I asked Charm to walk and moved him away from the course. Like Aristocrat, Charm had a tendency to get excited on courses. We moved through a few circles before I held him at an easy, slow canter up to the first vertical. Just like Aristocrat, Charm flew over the first jump and the next vertical. His attention was on the oxer, and I let him increase his speed just enough to get him over the spread.

I started counting strides in my head.
Three, two, one …

On “one,” I rose out of the saddle and Charm leaned back on his haunches, pushing off the dirt ground. Adrenaline kicked in and I loved the feeling of hovering in the air, even for a few seconds, above the ground. Charm landed softly on the other side, his hooves hitting the dirt with barely a sound.

The next vertical, with flower boxes on the sides, was strides away. But Charm was prepared. He moved with ease over the vertical and didn't even glance at the faux flowers. The next vertical and the second oxer, with a wider spread, were no problem for Charm. The daily workouts we had with Mr. Conner kept us both in good shape.

Remembering how Aristocrat had rushed the final jump, and not wanting to make the same mistake, I slowed Charm well before we reached the vertical. I kept my fingers closed around the reins and my legs light against his side, signaling that I wanted him to keep the same speed. Charm responded to my cues and didn't try to yank the reins through my fingers to move faster.

We've got this!
I thought, smiling to myself.

We finished our half circle, and I pointed him at the jump. My head snapped up as I saw Callie and Brit. There was no doubt what they were doing—they were battling. It wasn't a dangerous,
pushing-the-limits-with-the-horses type of fight. But Brit and Callie's battle looked like a carefully calculated, well-practiced ballet on horseback.

Omigod!
I looked back between Charm's ears, desperate for a clean ride and to get him over the higher vertical. But I knew it was too late. His takeoff was too late and he knocked the poles.

Cringing, I pulled him to a halt—not wanting to look back at Heather. She was going to know
exactly
what had happened.

And she was going to rip me for it.

I swallowed and turned Charm toward Heather. The look on her face was exactly what I'd expected. She had her head cocked, an eyebrow arched, and her eyes were locked on my face.

“Do it again,” she said. “Right now. That was ridiculous.”

“I know,” I said. “I shouldn't have—”

Heather waved her hand. “Stop talking.”

I closed my mouth—embarrassment making me sink into the saddle.

“That was worse than a beginner mistake—I don't even know what to call it. You could have hurt Charm or yourself, especially with a jump of that height.”

I lowered my head, knowing she was right. The most dangerous time to lose focus was when jumping. I reached down to rub Charm's neck, feeling awful for putting him at risk.

“Don't,” Heather said. “The mushy stuff wastes my time. Turn around and do the course again.”

“Okay.” My face was flushed from Heather's comments, but at least she'd kept her voice low and Callie and Brit couldn't have heard what she said.

I didn't even circle Charm, I directed him back to the course, shook off my nerves, and kept my focus where it should have been in the first place—on my ride. Charm responded to the extra attention. His back became more supple, and the tension I hadn't noticed during our first ride disappeared.

I kept my eyes trained on each jump in front of us, and my own breaths seemed to match Charm's.

We headed for the final jump with no doubt in my brain that we'd clear it. At the right second, Charm pushed up off the ground and launched into the air. This round, our timing was right. He landed cleanly with his back hooves hitting the dirt well away from the jump.

“Good boy,” I said. I patted his shoulder, letting him canter for a few more strides before slowing him to a trot and then a walk.

Allowing him to stretch his neck, I gave him a few extra inches of rein. I halted him in front of Heather and she looked at me, not saying anything.

“What?” I asked. “That was way better! You can't say I wasn't focused.”

“Omigod, calm down. Did I say you weren't paying attention this time?”

“No,” I grumbled.

“Then shut up and listen.” Heather half smiled. “That was actually a good ride. When you're only thinking about the next jump and your horse, you're not an awful rider. Your hands did move around too much on landings and you can't plop back in the saddle like you did when Charm landed after the oxer.”

I listened, even though it was hard to be critiqued, because I knew if anyone would be right—it would be Heather.

“Charm also did better during this ride. He knew you were paying attention to him, and he didn't try to pull anything. You need to get over being distracted by other riders—it's only going to get worse as we start showing for the YENT.”

“You're right,” I said. “I know. Charm and I worked so hard to get on the team and I can't mess it up now. Not for anything.”