Jumper (2 page)

“Fine,” I huffed. I reached into the bag of carrots and let him have another one. He let me lift his hind foot, and I cleaned it as quickly as I could, but when I went on to the next hind leg, we went through the same performance again. Tug. Tug.

“You know, you could be sold,” I said, my hands on my hips.

“But not to you.” Kayla led Twilight through the big double doors just in time to hear my comment.

“What's that supposed to mean?” I swung around. I nearly added “rich girl” to the end of that sentence, but decided against it. I didn't want to fight with her.

“Nothing,” Kayla answered snidely, tying Twilight to the post at his stall. She took off her helmet, stripped the elastic from her short, pale blond braids and shook out her hair. I hated to admit it, but Kayla was pretty, in a trendy, cool kind of way. She made me feel ugly. If I braided my frizzy brown hair, I'd look like I had sticks growing from my ears. Kayla's teeth were straight, but if she'd had to wear braces like me, I bet she'd look cute. I looked like I had a mouthful of spare change.

“Are you still planning on moving up to the B Level circuit next year?” Kayla's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I swallowed. I knew right away what Kayla
meant. In order to move up from the Novice Development circuit to the B Level circuit, a rider had to lease or own their horse. Right now, Dublin was just my lesson horse. Even though I rode him every weekend, he wasn't really mine, and a bunch of other students rode him during the week. The problem was, owning a horse is expensive. Very expensive. And buying a top-quality jumper is more expensive yet. Some horses that are trained for show jumping can cost more than $20,000. Add vet bills, all the tack, feed, stable fees for boarding—well, I didn't even want to think about it. My mom and dad couldn't afford to buy me a horse. Even leasing a horse was out of the question. Lessons were about all we could afford, which meant I'd probably be stuck in the Novice Development circuit forever.

Unlike Kayla, whose parents were loaded. Kayla owned Twilight and could pay for the best feed, a fancy saddle and the best riding clothes. She never let me forget it, either.

“I'll move up when I can get a horse. And
when I do, it won't be because I didn't have enough talent to get there,” I retorted.

Kayla's face burned red. She led Twilight to his stall without a word. Even though Twilight was a great horse and made the jumps look effortless, Kayla wasn't consistent enough on him for Laurel to move Kayla up.

Mind you, I wasn't consistent either. Dublin was such a strong-willed horse. I sighed for a second time and slapped Dublin on the rump. “Get your big butt over,” I said. Dublin moved so I could squeeze by him and loosen the reins. I loved Dublin, but he challenged me every single time I rode him. It would sure be nice if I could have a horse whose personality meshed with mine, one who would be a friend, instead of one who tested me every step of the way.

“Yeah, keep dreaming,” I muttered as I led Dublin into his stall.

“Grandpa, STOP!” I hollered.

My grandfather hit the brakes, and the truck slid to a grinding stop on the muddy road.

“What's the matter? Did the tractor come loose?” Grandpa craned his neck to see out the back window of the truck. We were towing in an old tractor that had coughed and died in the fields more than two weeks earlier. Grandpa had a friend who could fix it for a
lot less money than a regular mechanic, but he lived on a farm southeast of Calgary. I was spending Saturday afternoon with Grandpa, so we had driven out to the field, hitched the tractor to the back of the truck and were now towing it on a trailer.

“No, look!” I pointed off into the distance. Along the ridge a group of horses was running. The late afternoon sun glinted off their backs, almost silhouetting them against the empty sky. “How cool is that?” I breathed in awe.

“Those might be the wild horses. The ones that are causing so much trouble on the military land.”

I looked at him. “What wild horses?”

“Haven't you heard about them? That band of horses has been running wild for years now. Most of ‘em used to be owned, but they got away somehow and they've been breeding and living on the grasslands for a few generations. The military's got some bee in its bonnet about the horses damaging the ecosystem, and there's talk about rounding them up.”

“What will they do with them?” I asked.

Grandpa shrugged. “I don't know. Sell them maybe.”

I watched the horses turn away from the ridge and start heading toward us. “Can we walk to the fence? Get a better look at them?” I asked.

“Reese, I want to get this tractor dropped off so we can get back to the ranch before supper.”

“Please?”

Grandpa sighed. “Oh, all right. Let's go.” He pulled over onto the grassy roadside, opened the door of the truck with a creak and stepped out into mud. “Watch out,” he warned as I opened my own door and nearly fell into a bush.

We traipsed through the grass, the autumn sunlight the only warmth. The wind was cold, the ground slick and icy from the rains that had turned to sleet overnight. The horses couldn't smell us; we were walking into the wind, so they didn't turn and run when we reached the fence.

The horses slowed to a trot. Then, finding a new patch of grass, most stopped to graze. I
watched them with interest. There were a few that looked like yearlings, and several were foals that stayed by their mothers. The rest looked fully grown, shaggy with their new growth of winter coat. I could see a young mare dancing sideways, playing with another horse that nipped at her. She was a deep red chestnut; her coat had a burnished look in the sun. She lifted her head, and for one moment she stared right at me. Her overgrown mane whipped in the wind, but otherwise she was perfectly still. I didn't move, didn't even breathe, but the wind veered, the horses caught our scent, and they began to trot away. The mare cantered ahead, jumped a pile of logs and bracken, then coaxed her playmate to race her, thundering ahead of the band.

“Did you see that?” I said to Grandpa. “That mare jumped those logs like they were nothing!” I knew untrained horses almost never jump—they'd rather go around obstacles if they can.

“She's a natural, all right,” Grandpa agreed. His seamed face relaxed in a smile. “Now you just have to catch her.”

I snorted. “Good luck.”

There was a soft thrum of hooves, and several more horses burst over the ridge. Something was wrong. This was no playful gallop but a flat-out run. The other horses pricked their ears, immediately on edge, ready to run.

Far away, I heard a chugging, metallic sound. The two groups of horses joined, and the herd streaked across the prairie toward us, away from that noise. Panic was etched in their every movement, from the frightened eyes to the straining limbs. They thundered past, near the fence line, nearly close enough for me to touch. I could smell sweat and dust as they passed.

The red chestnut trailed the band. She didn't look as frightened as some of the mustangs, but she ran behind them in a resigned sort of way. She skimmed by the fence. Without thinking, I put out my hand. She shied and summoned a burst of speed—in less than a second she caught up with the herd, fighting her way in among the ranks. Man, she was fast. I watched them go.

“What spooked them?” I asked.

“Sounded like tanks. The soldiers are out here training, after all.”

“Would they shoot them?” The thought horrified me.

“No. But those horses are probably a bit of a nuisance. I imagine that the military would like to be well rid of them.”

“Is that why they're going to round them up?”

“No. Apparently the land is getting damaged by the bands of horses roaming out here,” Grandpa said.

I stared after the horses as they grew smaller in the distance. “They sure are beautiful though, running free like that. I wonder what it would be like to ride one of them.”

Grandpa looked at his watch. “Come on, Reese. If I'm ever going to get that tractor fixed, we'd better get going.”

“Okay.” I turned back toward the truck, stepping carefully over the sludge and tangled grass, but I couldn't get my mind off that chestnut mare. As Grandpa let out the clutch
on the truck and we bumped carefully back onto the road, I kept turning the same thoughts over in my mind.

If I could catch her, could I break her? And more importantly, could I train her to jump?

“So Dublin will be gone tomorrow, then?” I heard Kayla's voice from inside Twilight's stall.

“The new owners will be here in the morning.” Laurel handed Kayla a hoof pick over the half wall.

I stopped dead, dropping a bucket of grooming tools with a clatter on the stable floor. Twilight skittered at the noise, jerking at his lead rope. Kayla had to grab the halter
with both hands to keep him calm. She glared in my direction.

“Sorry,” I said. “But what was that about Dublin?”

“He's been sold,” Laurel answered.

“When were you going to tell me?” The sharpness of the loss hit me like a blow.

“Today,” Laurel replied evenly.

“So I just show up for a lesson and Dublin's gone? I've been training on that horse for months!” My face stung. I always knew Dublin didn't belong to me, but I felt as though he did. We were like partners.

“Reese, Dublin was on loan to us. If someone wants to buy him, he's for sale. You know that. Better go tack up. You'll be riding Boots today.”

Kayla's expression melted into a tiny, smug smile. She began to currycomb Twilight, but I could see she was listening.

“Boots!” My stomach sank with dismay. I thought Dublin had been stubborn, but he was an angel compared with Boots. Boots was the oldest horse the stable had. She was well named—she had the personality
of an old boot and the looks to match. I wouldn't care about that except that I had no chemistry with her at all. If there was a rider who could get her to jump, it wasn't me, and I was trying to prepare for a competition. How was I supposed to compete on an old nag like that?

“Boots is a good horse. She's a solid jumper and she knows the ropes. You'll do just fine on her,” Laurel said firmly, obviously guessing what I was thinking. “Besides, there's no other horse available right now.”

I swallowed. It was Boots or nothing. So just like that, my chances of winning in the next show were in the toilet. Even if Laurel had handed me the best jumper in the world, it would be difficult to get ready in time with a new horse—but with Boots? Forget it. No wonder Kayla looked so smug. I picked up the currycombs and brushes I'd dropped and tossed them in the bucket with more force than was really necessary. Then I marched down the row of stalls without a backward glance. Kayla didn't need to know how I felt.

Boots stuck her nose over the half wall as I approached. Her coat was gray and speckled, her dark mane wispy. She laid back her ears at my grumpy expression. I swear, horses know what you're thinking before you've even thought it. She knew I intended to saddle her up, and she knew I wasn't looking forward to it. She was already shifting her rump in front of the gate to make it harder for me to get inside.

I sighed and dug into my pocket. Holding the carrot out to her, I let her smell me and take the treat. She crunched it thoughtfully, as if to say that bribery might help, but I still hadn't won her over.

“Move,” I said, slapping her hindquarters. She sidestepped away from me and let me in the stall. I haltered her and led her out, tethering her to the gate before I grabbed a hoof pick. She let me lift her feet and clean the hooves, but it was when I had worked my way around to her other foreleg that she made her move. My bum was nicely exposed when I bent over. She nipped me hard with her blunt, yellow teeth.

“Yowch!” I yelped. It felt like someone had pinched me with a pair of pliers, and I stood up in hurry. I clapped a hand over my backside and glared at her. I wanted to smack that horse a good one, but of course I couldn't do that. If you want an animal to trust you, walloping it isn't a good idea, even if it is an ornery old mule of a horse. Instead I grabbed the halter and gave it a small, fierce shake. “Don't you ever do that again, you walking reject from the glue factory!” I fixed Boots with the most menacing stare I could muster. Then I let go of the halter and rubbed my backside. “Rotten horse,” I muttered. I tacked her up as quickly as I could and led her to the arena.

The other kids in my riding lesson were already there. Kayla was waiting with Twilight, who looked more beautiful and docile than ever, I noticed bitterly.

“Everything okay?” Kayla asked. “I heard a yell from over there. What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything's just fine,” I said through gritted teeth. I swung up into the saddle. All I wanted to do was get through
the lesson. I could be riding an elephant at this point and it wouldn't matter.

“All right, ladies,” Laurel called as we entered the arena. “We're doing flatwork today. You can all use some polishing, and Reese needs the opportunity to work with Boots before attempting a jump, so I'd like you to warm up. Then we'll start with leg yielding.”

Leg yielding is when you instruct the horse to move with his body on a diagonal. That might seem weird, but it's useful for two reasons: one, to keep your horse supple; and two, to make sure he's listening to you and obeying instructions.

I adjusted my helmet and gave Boots the signal to trot. She began smoothly and carried me around the ring. Surprisingly, I found her gait quite easy to post to, and we finished the warm-up without a problem. I had half-suspected that Boots might toss me off, but when Laurel called to begin the leg yielding down the long wall, Boots obeyed my signals without complaint.

“I need to see a bit more angle from a few of you,” Laurel hollered from her seat
in the arena. “Reese, that's not bad. Make sure you're holding your position. Now look for your diagonal.” Laurel watched for a few minutes without comment. “Good job, folks. Let's move on to downward transitions. Let's ride a few canter-trot transitions. What you want to be thinking about during these transitions is using your legs.”