Silver Stirrups (12 page)

Soon Andrea had mounted. Carole carried Andrea’s coat to the warm-up area and put Andrea right to work. There was no point in standing around. It only made the horses tired and the riders nervous. Carole joined the instructors who were barking out commands in the middle of the grassy circle.

“Heels
down
over the fence, Linda! How many times do I have to remind you?”

“Don’t let him pull, Robby! Get his head up!”

“Three-two-one—now! Nope. Too late. Circle around and do it again!”

Carole took a deep breath. “Looking good, Andrea! Looking really good!” she yelled.

An older woman with a leathery face and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth addressed Carole. “That your sister?”

“No, she’s my student, actually,” Carole said, hoping she sounded natural.

The woman took a drag on her cigarette, her eyes momentarily on Andrea and Doc. “She’s good. Nice horse, too. My kid’s on the bay.” The woman pointed to a smart-looking horse. “Hey! Hey, Paula! Yes, I’m talking to you! What’d I tell you about your outside rein? Shorten it up! Right up!” the woman yelled. Then she turned back to Carole. “These kids—you tell ’em twenty times, they get to a show and forget they ever took a lesson. What can you do?”

Carole had to stifle a grin. “Just tell ’em again, I guess,” she said. “All right, Andrea! Trot the cross rail! Heads up over the cross rail!” she belted out.

“Hey, we gotta get over to the ring, but good luck today,” said Carole’s new friend.

“You too,” Carole said, trying to sound nonchalant. But she had only one thought:
I talked to another instructor!
She couldn’t wait to tell Stevie and Lisa.

T
HE NEXT COUPLE
of hours went by in a blur. Andrea responded perfectly to Carole’s coaching. All she really needed was someone to confirm that she knew what she was doing. Once Carole figured that out, she had her instructor’s role down pat. In the first class, children’s hunter over fences, Andrea and Doc practically floated over the course. Andrea came out of the ring ecstatic.

“Wasn’t he great, Carole?”

“The best. And you weren’t bad yourself.”

“I hope we get something,” said Andrea.

“Don’t worry about that now,” said Carole. “Keep him walking. The flat class is sooner than you think.”

“Who is that girl?” Carole heard a woman at the rail say. “I wonder where she rides.”

“That’s Andrea Barry on Country Doctor,” Carole said. “She’s a student at Pine Hollow.”

The woman nodded.

“Oh, Pine Hollow,” another woman said. “Of course. Max Regnery runs a tight ship. He always does well with the juniors.”

“Oh, yes, that’s where that Hanson girl rides. She’s
really made a name for herself in the local Pony Club.”

Carole gulped. It was all she could do not to shout aloud.
That Hanson girl? A name for herself?
Grinning wildly, she went to join Andrea. Before she got there, though, the results were announced over the loudspeaker. Andrea had won. Paula Grossman, the girl on the bay, was second. Carole hugged herself with joy. The morning had started off beautifully.

S
TEVIE AND
L
ISA
sat listlessly in the front seat of the van. The morning had gone all wrong. “I can’t believe Prancer and I had two knockdowns!” Lisa said. “In the two-foot-six division!”

“That’s better than Belle and I,” Stevie countered. “A refusal and a run-out! And now we’re not in either of the jump-offs! The show’s over for us before it’s even begun!”

“It’s so embarrassing!”

“You’re telling me!”

“Prancer was lazier than she’s ever been!”

“Belle was totally out of control!”

The two girls were silent for a moment, munching on the french fries they had bought to cheer themselves up. Neither of them could understand what, exactly, had gone wrong in their morning classes. The
more depressing thing was that neither of them had entered any afternoon classes.

“Why the long faces?” said Carole, poking her head through the window. She had come back to the van during the lunch break.

“Don’t ask,” Stevie and Lisa said at the same time.

“Oh. Bad morning?”

They nodded.

“We just don’t get it. We were so prepared!” Lisa said.

“We only entered things we knew we’d do well in,” Stevie chimed in.

“Ah,” Carole said. “I get it.”

Stevie and Lisa were surprised. “What do you mean, you get it?” said Stevie.

“Oh, come on,” Carole replied. “You can’t tell me this hasn’t happened to you before.” At her friends’ blank looks, Carole continued, “You were overconfident, that’s all. You thought it would be easy to do well.”

Stevie and Lisa looked at one another. “So, you mean we didn’t try as hard as we normally would?” Lisa said in a small voice.

Carole nodded.

“Hmmm …,” said Stevie.

“Gee …,” said Lisa.

“It makes sense if you think about it.” Carole hesitated, wondering if she should continue. She didn’t want her friends to think she’d become Miss Know-It-All, just because she was serving as Andrea’s instructor for the day. But she
had
come to a realization. “You know how Max always tells us to challenge ourselves?” she said finally.

Stevie and Lisa nodded, warily.

“It’s not because he wants us to do badly. It’s because he wants us to do well. He knows we’ll do better if we ride at the highest level we’re capable of riding.”

Stevie and Lisa had to agree that it did make sense, when Carole put it that way. They’d never ridden so conservatively—or so badly—in their lives, at least not in competition.

“But don’t look so glum,” said Carole brightly. “You can still make something of the day.”

“How?” said Stevie. “From what we’ve heard over the loudspeaker, you’ve got Andrea’s coaching pretty much under control.”

“
Very
much under control, I’d say,” Lisa agreed. “Two firsts, a second, and a third? She must be thrilled.”

“She is—but she’s nervous, too. She’s tied for children’s hunter champion right now. It’s going to come down to the last class, children’s hunter hack. And the
same person who beat her in equitation is tied with her in the hunter division. Everyone’s betting one of the two of them will get the Silver Stirrups,” Carole explained.

“Everyone?” Lisa asked. “Like who?”

“Oh, I don’t know specifically. That’s just the word among the instructors,” Carole said coolly. “Listen, Andrea has me for the afternoon. But there’s somebody else who has no one to help him, and it’s his first show.”

“Red!”
Stevie and Lisa exclaimed. They didn’t need to be asked twice. They sprang out of the van and headed for the rings.

“He’s warming up outside of ring number three!” Carole called after them.

“Okay!”

“Say hi to Starlight!” she yelled. She figured a simple hello didn’t make her an overprotective owner.

“W
HY DID
I ever agree to do this?” Red asked.

Stevie and Lisa smiled. Red O’Malley—cool, calm, collected Red O’Malley—had a classic case of nerves. Both girls knew what that was like. The jumps looked bigger than before. The competition looked tougher. And, invariably, they would ask themselves why they had ever decided/​agreed/​volunteered/​asked/​hoped/​prayed to compete in the first place. They would also swear that they would never go to another horse show as long as they lived.

There were only two more riders before Red. The girls watched him run a shaky hand down Starlight’s neck. Clearly, a pep talk was required. Together they
gave him one. Stevie told him he was an excellent rider, that he was better than most of the competition. Lisa told him he was riding a talented horse. An experienced horse.

“Think positive,” said Lisa.

“It’s only twelve jumps,” said Stevie.

“Prepare, prepare, prepare,” said Lisa.

“It will be over before you know it,” said Stevie.

Finally they sent Red off with a swipe of his boots and a pat on Starlight’s rump.

“We’re rooting for you!” they both called.

“I
T
’
S ALL MENTAL
,” Carole was saying. “You’ve got to think positive. You know you’re better than the competition.”

“But what about that girl Paula, on the bay?” Andrea said.

It was understandable that Andrea was anxious, Carole knew. Doc and the bay were tied for first, and Paula had just ridden a near-perfect course. Carole was about to launch into a list of things the other girl had done wrong, to prove to Andrea that she was beatable.

Then Carole remembered the problem with that strategy. “Forget about her,” she said. She put a hand on Doc’s reins and looked seriously up at Andrea. “The worst thing you can do is fixate on one rider like
that. It ruins your concentration. Believe me—I should know,” she added.

“When did you ever do that?” Andrea asked. “I’ll bet you’re just saying it to make me feel better.”

Carole shook her head ruefully. “I wish I were,” she said. “I wish I were.”

“The jumps look huge,” Andrea said a moment later.

“Just remember to take your own advice,” Carole told her student. “Prepare, prepare, prepare.”

“Okay,” Andrea said, tightening her girth one last hole.

Carole sent Doc off with a pat on his chestnut rump. “Hey!”

Andrea stood in her stirrups and turned around. “Yeah?”

“I’m rooting for you!” Carole called.

“B
UT
M
AX
, I
JUST
don’t see how poor little Kismet is going to jump those huge fences,” Mrs. Murphy wailed.

“Kismet is sixteen-point-three hands high,” Max said patiently. “Believe me, he can do it. And you can do it, too. You’ve just got to think confidently, keep yourself organized, and—”

“I know, Max, I know: Prepare! But sometimes I
forget to prepare, and then we get into trouble, and—Oh, gosh, I almost forgot. My husband’s watching. There he is! Bob! Bob! Look, he’s waving! Max, give him a little wave, will you?”

Sighing deeply, Max turned and waved at Mr. Murphy, who was sitting in the spectator stands of ring two.
Where the heck is Red?
Max wondered. Surely the juniors were almost finished? Had Red fallen asleep in the van? Max frowned. That wasn’t exactly great behavior for the head stable hand of Pine Hollow.

“Oh, Max, I’m so nervous!”

Max refocused his attention on his student. He gave the brown gelding an encouraging pat. “Don’t be. Just do your best, Mrs. Murphy. You’re capable of beating anyone here.”

Max watched the older woman gather up her reins and go off to jump. He rubbed his eyes and took a sip of black coffee. It had been a long day of instructing. He’d gotten up at five, and he’d been on his feet all day. Even after the last class there would be a lot to deal with. There were horses to be rubbed down, legs to be wrapped. There were bran mashes to be made, a van and two trailers to be cleaned out. There were congratulations to be given to the winners and consolation to the losers. Plus there were the regular evening chores to be done. Once in a while, at times like
this, Max wondered why he ever allowed/encouraged/required his students to ride in horse shows at all. Then he saw Mrs. Murphy pick up a canter and clear the first fence with inches to spare. Max smiled. Suddenly it was all worth it.

M
RS
. M
URPHY RODE
well, for her, but she didn’t win a ribbon. So Max was mildly surprised when, walking back to the van, he was accosted by another instructor. “Hey, nice job today!” the woman called. “You guys really cleaned up!”

“Thank you,” Max said uncertainly. He continued walking.

“Hats off to Pine Hollow!” a man in a tweed coat cried.

“Big day for you, huh, Max?” said one of the judges.

“Briarwood’s been kind to Pine Hollow, eh?” called Jock Sawyer from aboard his jumper.

Max stopped in confusion. Had he missed something? Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw three of his students running toward him. It was Stevie Lake, Lisa Atwood, and Carole Hanson—
The Saddle Club,
Max thought wryly.

“Yay, Max!” Stevie cried.

“We did it!” said Lisa.

Carole grinned shyly.

“Did the three of you win blue ribbons that I’m not aware of?” Max asked in puzzlement. “No, that can’t be right. You’re not even riding, Carole. Okay, what gives? Why are my colleagues congratulating me?”

“Well, you see, Max,” Stevie began, stalling for time. So many times, Max had an exciting announcement for them, but he would hold off making it to build up the suspense. So now Stevie relished the chance to withhold information from him. But Lisa and Carole, oblivious to her plan, began pouring out the news.

“So then Red—”

“So then Andrea—”

They didn’t get far. They didn’t have to. Right then, Red O’Malley and Andrea Barry came trotting up on Starlight and Doc. There was a red second-place ribbon streaming from Starlight’s bridle. Andrea and Doc had two ribbons: another first, and the red, blue, and yellow championship ribbon for winning the children’s hunter division. They all watched Max to see how he would react. He smiled. Then he grinned. Then he threw his head back and laughed aloud.