Hunter Derby: (Show Circuit Series -- Book 3) (18 page)

She thought of how he was shirtless and closed her eyes tight and told herself just to stop and find a way to go to sleep. Was he awake? Or was he already asleep? Was he thinking about her?

Minutes passed. She was still awake, but she was trying not move around so it’d seem like she was asleep. She couldn’t figure out whether he was asleep or not. He probably was. Why did guys always have a way of sleeping much more soundly than women? They fell asleep the moment their head hit the pillow at night.

Women were the ones who stayed up reading or watching TV. But maybe he actually was still awake. She considered asking him,
Are you awake? Can you sleep? Maybe this sharing a room wasn’t such a good idea after all. I’m gonna ride like shit tomorrow. How’s your boner?

Random thoughts flew through her head. She decided saying nothing would be better than anything she might come up with.

She rolled over a few times, now rustling her own sheets on purpose, wondering if that would signal to him that she wasn’t asleep and maybe he’d say something.

Nothing.

Sometime later in the night, mercifully, she fell asleep and slept clear through to being woken by the alarm on his phone.

He got right out of bed and traipsed to the bathroom. She could see his shirtless form in the dim light of the room. She listened to the water running and felt tired from falling asleep so late.

“You waking up?” he asked softly when he came out of the bathroom.

She liked the tender sound of his voice. “Yup, I’m up.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby,” he said. “I’m going to see what they have for coffee.”

“Get me whatever they have,” she said.

“Of course,” he said. “I know how you love your coffee.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mornings in Lake Placid were chilly and for the first few hours of the day it hardly looked like July as riders rode by bundled up in down jackets and vests with scarves wrapped around their necks.

John had just thrown grain and was pulling out a wheelbarrow to start stalls. Zoe came to block his path. “I made a little deal with Linda,” she said.

“And what’s that?”

“She really can’t ride with her back. I said you’d help me get all of Dakota’s horses ridden and prepared if she got one of the guys to clean your stalls.”

“I don’t mind cleaning my stalls. I actually kind of like it,” John said, his hands still on the wheelbarrow.

“You can clean them again this afternoon if you want,” Zoe said. “She really needs our help. This isn’t just for you. We’re doing this for her.”

It was mostly true. Linda hadn’t told anyone else she was pregnant yet and Zoe felt protective of her. People rode through their pregnancy—hell, some grand prix riders jumped in 5-star classes through their fifth or sixth month—but Linda had a bad back
and
she was pregnant.

There was no way she should be riding.

“Fine,” John said. “If it helps Linda, okay.”

The morning passed quickly with all the riding that needed to be done. Zoe and John rode out together, flatted in the same ring usually, and then rode back together. As always, Zoe passed endless people who said
hello
and
how’s it going
to her. A few people even remembered John’s name and asked if the mare would be showing this week.

Zoe made sure to introduce John any chance she got and she also tried her best to subtly work into any short conversation that he had brought some sale horses. By the time all of Dakota’s horses and all of John’s were ridden, she had managed to give out John’s number to one trainer who said he would text later about watching Cruz, and told another trainer that she should try Dibs.

“I noticed you didn’t mention Gidget’s for sale,” John said.

“I think her value’s only going to go up this summer,” Zoe said with a slight smile. “Better to wait.”

“I agree,” John said.

Dakota had a lesson on Plato and flatted Midway and Sonny. The rest of the time, she hung out around the horse show. There were a lot of fun classes to watch and a lot of fellow juniors to hang out with. Every time Zoe saw Dakota she seemed to be surrounded by a group of juniors, talking closely, looking at each other’s phones, piled on a golf cart that some older junior who had a license was driving.

A few times she saw her with Ian, Hugo’s working student, who had ridden Plato at Old Salem. Later, she asked her, “You staying true to our pact?”

“Totally. You?”

“I’ve been like a nun.”

Dakota giggled.

“Lake Placid can be trouble,” Zoe said, turning more serious.

“I know. A bunch of people were talking about going out tonight . . .”

“You have a fake ID?”

Dakota nodded, like she wasn’t sure she should be admitting this to Zoe.

“Be careful, okay? You can call me anytime,” Zoe said. “I’m not going to say, don’t go out, because I’m not a total hypocrite, but be careful.”

“I will. I’m just going to stay with my friends.”

“But they suddenly might not stay with you . . .” Zoe knew all too well how people paired up and peeled off, and Dakota could be left alone, easy prey for just the kind of guy she was trying to avoid.

“I know.”

“If you need a ride home. If you need anything. Just text me or call me. I’m going to be sitting in my hotel room watching a movie. No bars for me.”

John rode Cruz in a 1.20 meter class. Zoe helped him school and she could tell he was a little nervous at the in-gate, just a little impressed by the jumper ring. The jumps weren’t big and the course wasn’t tricky, but it was a large ring with impressive grandstands with flags flapping in the ever-present Adirondack breeze, and sponsorship banners along the fence line.

Despite what might have been a few nerves, John marched Cruz right around the course, riding it like an eq course. Cruz was a little rough through his change in a corner of the ring, tossing his head, and John trained him, making him listen and flex before the next jump.

The trainer Zoe had told about Cruz had come to watch him go. Brett Kirschner was from Maryland and had been around the circuit for what seemed like forever. He always had a full barn and lots of clients but none ever quite made it to the top. He was also flamingly gay.

“Nice, huh?” Zoe said to Brett. “Green, needs a little more polish and mileage, but nice.”

Zoe wasn’t used to brokering deals. She had certainly listened in on Jamie and others endlessly pitching horses, extolling their virtues. She knew the lingo to throw around:
endless scope, big step, no spook, little prep, no stop, great mind, good attitude, great look, super sound.

Now it was her turn to use those same words but she wasn’t sure she would be as good at pulling it off. She decided to try to differentiate John from some of the other horse dealers out there.

“John’s the real deal. No devices or gimmicks. He’s been putting solid basics and flatwork into this horse. This isn’t a ‘fluff and buff’ and turn around and sell it. John brings along his horses slowly and so you know what you’re seeing is real, and not just some band-aid effect.”

As she talked, Zoe’s confidence grew. She found it all exciting—the arranging the time and place, the showcasing the horse, the carefully planned words.

She guessed it wouldn’t feel as good if she were someone like Donnie, trying to pass off a half-sound horse that had been lunged or, even drugged, into submission. How could people like Donnie do what they did—sell horses they knew weren’t as advertised?

They had to sell
some
good ones, or else they’d never make another sale again. It was just every so often they pulled one over on a clueless buyer. They picked and chose whom to fleece. Established trainers they’d see every day and who would even judge them, they didn’t mess with.

It was the smaller no-name trainers who thought they were oh-so-cool taking a client who actually had money to someone like Donnie to buy a horse. Zoe used to feel nothing but distaste for those rubes, but now she felt her heart go out to them. Those trainers and clients didn’t know any better.

John had jumped the last few fences and was on the way out of the ring. He didn’t have any rails down but because he was going for the equitation school he had multiple time faults.

“When can I try him?” Brett said to Zoe.

It was all she could do not to give a little squeal. “What works for you?”

But because she didn’t have a half-million dollars floating around to put toward a proven eq horse, she’d have to make due with a greenie. She had three more years left in the eq, including this one, so they had decided it made the most sense to invest all their money in a horse that could end up being the real deal, instead of spreading out the 150K they had to spend on three years of leasing a mediocre eq horse and then have nothing to show for it money-wise at the end.

This route meant a possible payoff. If they did a good job bringing Cruz the rest of the way and he stayed sound—and there was no reason he shouldn’t—and if she got ribbons on him at the finals, they could be looking at 200K to 300K in their pocket.

“We’ve looked at a lot of horses,” Brett admitted. “The shit people try to sell you, I swear.”

“John’s really selective in what he buys,” Zoe said, nodding effusively. “And he puts a lot of work into his horses. Cruz is really ready to go to the next level.”

Zoe noticed a few other trainers noticing her, noticing that she had a nice horse that was being tried.

The girl rode Cruz nicely. She kept patting him, which Zoe took to mean she liked him. Brett fielded three phone calls while she was trying him—often saying one thing into the phone and then calling out to the girl, “Jump the oxer,” and then going back to whoever was on the phone. He kept calling the people he was talking to dear and sweetie.

Once when he was still on a call, he said to Zoe, “I want to talk to the parents, probably have him vetted. You have X-rays?”

“Yup,” Zoe said.

“You showing him to anybody else today, dear?” Brett asked, with the phone still pressed to his ear. Into the receiver he said, “Yes, I know it’s a dog. I told her it was a dog when she showed up at my barn with it.”

Brett held the phone out and made an exaggerated face for Zoe and John’s benefit.

Zoe said, “We’ll give you first right of refusal.”

“Yup, sweetie, bye,” Brett said into the phone. He clicked off and then told Zoe and John, “I like the horse. I’ll be back to you ASAP.”

The girl rode Cruz up to them and hopped off. She patted his neck again.

“You like him, right, darling?” Brett said to her.

“A lot,” she replied.

“I know. He’s a good one for you. We’ll see if we can get it done, sweetie.”

The girl handed the reins to Zoe.

Brett said, “A hundred and thirty, right?”

“One-fifty,” Zoe said. She knew she had said one-fifty.

“Don’t we have some leeway?” Brett said.

“Not really,” Zoe said.

“Do we have to take care of you on this, dear?” Brett said.

“No,” Zoe said. “One-fifty is with everyone taken care of.”

“Okay.” He leaned a little closer to her. “So, girl, what about you and Donnie? Are you like totally done with that fuckwit?”

“Totally done with him.”

“Do you know he sold a client of mine a horse that was nerved? Before she came to me, of course. Oh my God, nerved! Can you believe that, dear? They had no idea.”

“Sadly, I can believe it,” Zoe said.

“Good for you for getting out of that situation,” Brett said. “You be good to yourself now, sweetie.”

“I will, I mean, I am,” Zoe said.

Brett’s phone buzzed again and he answered, waving to them and mouthing good-bye. John hopped back on Cruz and told Zoe he’d see her later.

“I’ll come back to the barn,” she said.

“You don’t have to. I can take care of him.”

“I know,” she said. “But I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” he said, as he headed out of the schooling ring.

Zoe got on her bike and pedaled back to the barn, passing John and Cruz on the way. At the tent, she got out the wash bucket and squirted a dash of shampoo in it. John rode up on Cruz and Zoe undid the girth and slid off the saddle while John slid on Cruz’s halter.

“That certainly seemed to go well,
sweetie
,” John said as he hung the bridle on the cleaning hook with the few others waiting there.

Zoe chuckled. “I know, and other people were watching so you’re getting a secondary benefit of it too. People talk about what horse so-and-so just bought and from-who and pretty soon they’ll be calling you up asking what you have available.”

Zoe grabbed the bucket and reached for the lead rope that John was holding. “I’ll take him out and wash him down.”

“I can do it,” he said. “Why should you?”

They both held the lead rope, and they laughed because it was as if they were going to have a tug-of-war to see who would get the privilege of washing down Cruz.

“You didn’t feel like I took over too much out there, I mean with Brett?” Zoe asked.

“No, you’re the one who knows these people and you know what to say, what they want to hear. It makes sense that you do more of the talking.”

“I just hope you don’t feel like I don’t think you could handle it or something?”

“It’s fine,
dear
,” John said. “We’re a good team.”

“I know, who would have thought?”

“What do you mean? You wouldn’t have thought we’d be good partners?”

Zoe’s hand was still on the lead rope. “We didn’t get off on the best foot when we first met if you recall . . .”

“And you’re like miss super-star and I’m just this guy with a few horses for sale.”