Home for Christmas (8 page)

Khloe nodded. “I'm glad you feel okay. I know you would have said no if you had felt uncomfortable. You're not really an easy mark for peer pressure, no matter how piercing blue the eyes are of the girl offering the dare.”

I laughed. “Right?! I'm glad it's not just me.”

We turned the horses around and rejoined the group.

Across the field, Clare cantered Fuego in an even circle, then slowed him to a trot. She walked him close to the creek bed before turning him to face the wall.

“Go, Clare!” Khloe cheered.

“Shhh!” at least four people from Sasha's group said simultaneously.

“Sorry,” Khloe said in a whisper. She made an
oops
face at me.

Clare moved Fuego into a trot, and after a few strides,
he moved into a canter. Clare's royal-blue jacket contrasted sharply against Fuego's red coat. The pair moved toward the wall, and I crossed my fingers for Clare. She was a great jumper, and now I was glad she'd accepted Heather's challenge. She was representing us, and I knew she was going to do it well!

All of our heads turned to watch as Clare and Fuego swept by us and reached the wall. Clare lifted out of the saddle, hands sliding along Fuego's neck, and he pushed off the ground. He rose over the stones with inches to spare and landed lightly on the other side. I wanted to cheer as Khloe had done, but I didn't want to draw attention to what we were doing. Maybe the farmer had supersonic hearing or something.

A grinning Clare turned Fuego back to face all of us. Now she was one of the three on the other side of the wall. Quickly, she wiped the grin off her face and replaced it with a look of nonchalance. Like it was every day that she jumped a stone wall at a strange stable onto forbidden property.

“Niiice!” Sasha said to Clare. She put up a palm for a high five.

Clare couldn't stop her smile this time. Beaming, she slapped Sasha's palm and stroked Fuego's neck.

Heather merely nodded at her before turning her gaze back to the fourteen of us on the other side. “Next person better get over here,” Heather said. As if to back up her words, her liver chestnut struck the ground with a foreleg. “I don't want to be waiting until New Year's.”

Without a word, Callie turned her gelding, cantered in two circles, then cleared the wall.

One by one, the rest of us jumped the wall. Cole, Khloe, Alison, Drew, Garret, Carina, Brit, Ana, me, Brielle, Zack, Eric, and Lexa.

Taylor, Paige, and Jacob were left on the opposite side of the wall. They'd sidled their horses next to each other and had been chatting while we jumped. I'd caught a few words like “PlayStation” and “Nintendo.” Paige had a look of “Boys!” on her face.

“I declare this dare complete,” Heather addressed us. She raised an eyebrow as she looked at me and my friends. “It was a surprise to have you join us and not bail, kids.”

“It was fun. We're the kind of ‘kids' who don't back down,” Khloe shot back.

Alpha female against alpha female. Both blond girls eyed each other—neither breaking contact.

Finally Heather nodded. “Maybe we'll see you on the trails again while we're here.”

Sasha's lips curved into a small smile. I wanted to dance in my saddle. We—the lowly just-turned seventh graders—had gotten an invitation from Heather Fox to ride with her. Heather was practically as big a deal on campus as Sasha. This was
huge
!

“You should def text me when you're coming over to ride,” Sasha said, looking at me. “We'll join you if we're free.”

“Cool. I will,” I said.

“Let's get back on our turf before anything happens,” Sasha said.

With that, we each took turns jumping our horses over the wall. I didn't let out a full breath of relief until each and every one of us was back on Kim's land. If this was what trail riding with Heather was like, something told me that I'd better prepare myself.

9

Sasha

IT WAS STILL DARK OUTSIDE
when my alarm clock buzzed the next morning. It was six and time to get up and get ready to go to the first day at Safe Haven for Thoroughbreds. It didn't even feel like a Monday, usually my least fave day of the week, since it was break.

Callie rubbed her eyes, sitting up and smiling sleepily from the daybed. “I can't wait to get to the rescue center,” she said.

“Me either. This is going to be the super-best Christmas break
ever
,” I said. “We've got all of our friends, our horses, and we're helping new horses find homes.”
Like, one could come home with me,
I thought. I'd dropped a few not-so-subtle hints to Mom and Dad that it would be giving back to the community if
I
adopted a horse from
Safe Haven. But they'd said that I was doing more than enough by volunteering.

“It's a twenty-four-seven horse fest,” Callie said. She got up and picked breeches and a yellow thermal shirt from her suitcase. “Speaking of horses, I was kind of caught off guard by Lauren Towers and her friends yesterday.”

It felt like old times between Callie and me. We were about to have a gossip fest, and it was like none of the baggage we had from the past existed. Maybe the holiday spirit helped wipe it all away.

“I was surprised to see Lauren too,” I said. “More shocked, though, that she had all of her friends there. She planned a Christmas like ours.”

“I figured we would probably run into her sometime at Briar Creek,” Callie said. “It was weird, though.”

“Why?” I pulled a hunter-green wool sweater over my head. After our ride, Kim had explained to all of us that she'd kept quiet about each of our groups coming to BC because she'd wanted us to feel out the sitch ourselves.

Callie shrugged. “It was almost like she was ready to compete with us or something. She and her friends didn't hesitate at Heather's dare. I mean, I'm glad they did it, because I got to see for myself that the rumors about them are true.”

“What rumors?”

“That they're gunning for spots on their advanced team as soon as they have tryouts. That girl, Khloe, who's already on the advanced team, is YENT material.”

Callie and I both slid our feet into thick socks and started lacing up our boots.

“They're not our competition,” I said. “Lauren and her friends are a grade behind us. We don't have to worry about our slots on the advanced team and the YENT.”

“You sure?” Callie asked. “Tell me that you don't think Mr. Conner might combine our advanced team with theirs for a practice every once in a while. Or offer them a chance to try out for the YENT sooner than our chances.”

I shook my head. “That would never happen. Mr. Conner keeps every grade separate. He'd never let them jump ahead in line, either, no matter how good they are.”

I finished tying my laces, my mind racing from what Callie had said. Lauren's background was better than mine. She had a champion pedigree before I had even completed my first double oxer. I swallowed. Next semester wouldn't bring
that
kind of change to Canterwood . . . would it?

Callie stood, helmet in hand. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Let's go gather everybody and grab
some breakfast. No more thinking or talking about Lauren until we see her again. Deal?”

Callie smiled. “Deal.”

We left my room, and the boys' door was already open. The smell of bacon, eggs, and sausage lingered in the air.

Callie and I walked into the kitchen and found Paige at the stove, flitting between pots and pans like a hummingbird.

“Morning!” Paige said, smiling. She was dressed in a pair of my boots and breeches. “Sash, I told your mom that I'd love to cook breakfast for everyone. I wanted to do something since she's letting us stay here.”

I grinned. “My parents will never let you leave,” I said. “Not once they've tasted Chef Parker's cooking.”

With a flick of her wrist and a satisfied smile, Paige flipped a perf omelet onto a plate in front of me.

10

Lauren

“WELCOME, EVERYONE!”

My friends and I stood in a warm indoor arena at Safe Haven for Thoroughbreds. I eyed the fifteen or so other volunteers with us—most of them looking like they were in college or older. We had gathered around the volunteer director as she stood on a mounting block to address us.

“I'm Lyssa, a name you might recognize from e-mails from our group,” the petite brunette said. “I can't thank you all enough for being here this morning
and
for the time you have offered to dedicate to some very deserving horses.”

Taylor and I exchanged excited smiles. We'd all gotten here early this morning and signed in—wanting to make a good impression on our first day. The rest of my friends surrounded us and directed their attention to Lyssa.

“As many of you know, life for ex-racehorses can be extremely challenging,” Lyssa said. “For some, their life begins and ends with the track. I want to make it clear that I am not here to advocate against the sport of horse racing—only to inform you about the reality of what happens to some, not all, ex-racehorses.”

From somewhere in the stable, a whinny from one horse set off a chorus of neighs.

Lyssa smiled. “I'm an ex-jockey. I started racing in high school and rode for many years. My career ended about five years ago due to an injury. I knew nothing else but racing. What was I supposed to do with my life? That's kind of what it's like for some of our horses.”

“It's
so
cool that she used to be a jockey,” Ana whispered to me.

I nodded. “She got hurt and she's
still
involved with horses. That's awesome.”

“Some racehorses suffer injuries during their careers and are put down by their owners,” Lyssa said. “Not all earn enough money from races to make valuable studs or broodmares. Those that aren't put down are sometimes sent to the auction block to be sold and retrained for various uses. Others are sold for practically pennies to slaughterhouses.”