The Girl Who Loves Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center Series) Page 8
“Oh, well…” Sierra could think of nothing to say, but she thought about what River had told her as they worked in silence. She respected his opinion but still, how could she doubt the opinion of the eventing community? After all, Tess had qualified to try for the Olympics. You had to be good to have that opportunity, didn’t you? She felt very confused, ignorant, and unwise. But, she admitted to herself, there was no question in her mind as to who was the better rider between Tess and River. Tess always looked confident and in control. River looked like a part of his horse; they moved as one and the horse moved with free, expressive movements, as if taking jumps was entirely his own idea. She had seen River ride a horse in the arena performing circles, figure eights, lateral movements, and most beautiful of all, canter flying changes. Never once could she detect any signals from River. It looked like all the movements were the horse’s idea.
After awhile Sierra asked, “What are you going to do?”
He looked at her, his eyes dark as smoke. “Tess wants me to warm up Magic for Crystal. If I do, he has a better chance of getting through the course in spite of her. But all I can think of is the look in his eyes when I hand the bridle reins over to Crystal. It’s as if he’s saying, ‘how can you do this to me?”
“Oh, I see what you mean.”
The sound of trailers pulling into the stable yard, and horses clomping backwards out of the trailers, signaled the arrival of the outside riders and the onset of the clinic.
*****
Eight riders galloped around the perimeter of the field, warming up their horses and themselves. Sierra stood near a group of parents and friends of the riders, all clustered behind Tess where they could watch and hear her instructions. Tess stood at the edge of the field near the mounting block, studying the riders intently.
“Rein them in and gather back over here,” Tess called through a megaphone. The group of riders obediently slowed their horses to a canter, then a trot to ride back to Tess.
Sierra watched Crystal on Magic, anxiously hoping she would not upset him too much in the warm up. Magic tossed his head a few times and shook it side to side, and she could see Crystal fighting with the reins. Magic’s usual long stride looked short and choppy as Crystal struggled to keep him a stride’s length behind Gloria on Silver.
Tess glanced over at Sierra and ordered, “Where is River? Go get him.”
Nervously, Sierra straightened her posture, looked back up the empty hillside, and then started up the slope. She did not know what River had decided. He had retreated into his barrier of silence as they finished the morning chores and then disappeared. It was Sierra who tacked up Magic for Crystal and helped Manuel get the other horses ready.
She was halfway up the slope when she saw River approaching. He wore his riding boots and breeches and carried a helmet. Sierra sighed with relief. “Hi,” she greeted as he came alongside her.
‘”Hi,” he answered distractedly. They kept walking in silence back down the hill and up to the group. The riders were walking their horses in a circle around Tess as she described and gestured to the jumps they were to ride for their first course.
Tess glared at River as he and Sierra approached. “Crystal, River will take Magic around for his first time.”
Crystal dismounted with her jaw set in angry lines and a fixed frown. Although Tess had told her the plan, and in her heart she knew she would have a very difficult time trying to jump this course on Magic, she still found it humiliating to be de-horsed in front of the spectators. She jerked hard on the reins causing Magic to toss up his head, as she led him over to Tess.
River avoided Crystal’s stabbing look as he took the reins from her, talking softly to Magic as he led him to the mounting block. He adjusted the stirrup length for his longer legs and mounted while Tess repeated to him the jumps she wanted him to take.
“Es facil, hermano,” River whispered to the chestnut as he walked him away from the group and urged him into a trot, posting. Magic stretched his head into the soft hands holding the reins, finding his balance on the hilly terrain as River directed him in a large trotting circle. He visibly began to relax under the hands of this familiar and trusted rider, gaining confidence. He snorted and shook his head once; just for the reassurance he could move his head. River squeezed the reins between his fingers as he touched his legs to Magic’s sides, and the big horse jumped into a canter.
They approached the first obstacle, railroad ties stacked in a block formation at various heights and with two upright ties set as posts on the ends; a solid jump, two feet in height at its lowest level. Magic pricked his ears forward as River guided him toward the obstacle, his eyes wide, and he snorted again. He had been faced with jumps in the arena but never outside in the fields and it confused him. But River touched his mouth through the reins, not pulling, just letting him know he was there, and yes, River’s legs told him to keep going forward. Trusting his rider, Magic adjusted his stride at the approach and sailed over the jump.
River smiled and touched his hand to the chestnut’s neck. “Que bien,” he encouraged. They approached the next jump, a large log with its diameter creating equal height and width. River did not sense any hesitation this time as they approached, as if Magic had figured out that jumping occurred outside as well as in an arena. The chestnut instinctively adjusted his stride and again thrust up and sailed over the log in a beautiful arc.
All River’s doubts and negative feelings were at least for the moment dissipated in the joy of the free and powerful motion of the horse beneath him. They galloped around the field taking each obstacle of the course without hesitation as the chestnut instinctively shortened or lengthened his stride, a natural jumper. With each thrust of his hindquarters, River allowed the movement to push him forward over the withers, his hands following the arch of Magic’s head, keeping contact without obstructing his jump. They covered the course as one, with a mutual purpose and with mutual joyful exuberance.
“Magnificent!” One of the onlookers exclaimed. “That horse is incredible. Where did you get him, Tess?”
He’s Crystal’s new mount; we found him at the import sale. He is a Trakehner, bred in Germany.”
“What a fantastic rider,” another observer commented. “Who is he, Tess? I’ve never seen him at any of the shows.”
“That’s River Girard; he doesn’t compete,” Tess answered.
“They certainly make a good pair!”
Sierra watched in rapturous awe. She could feel the rhythmic pulsing of Magic’s hooves in the ground below her feet, and she found her body wanting to move forward with each thrust of the powerful hindquarters over the jumps. She was breathless as River and Magic finished the round and galloped the last distance uphill toward the group, the chestnut’s dark red mane and tail floating like a banner heralding his arrival.
The onlookers clapped at their arrival, calling out, “wonderful,” and “awesome ride!” River jumped off and stroked Magic’s neck as the horse nuzzled at him. Reluctantly he led him back to the mounting block where Crystal waited, proudly aware of the admiration directed toward her horse, but resentful that she was not riding.
“Just point him at the jump and stay off his mouth,” River hissed at Crystal as he readjusted the stirrups and held Magic’s head while she mounted.
“Don’t tell me how to ride my own horse,” Crystal snarled back at him. She pulled heavily on the reins causing Magic’s head to jerk up, and walked him back to the milling group of horses and riders.
“Hi, River,” a girl in the group of onlookers called out to him, then giggled and whispered with the girl standing next to her. Sierra recognized two of her classmates that she knew hung around with Crystal’s crowd at school. River glanced at them without answering and joined Sierra where she stood at the edge of the group.
“He was perfect,” she whispered.
“Yeah, he was, wasn’t he?” River agreed with her. She glanced sideways at him, disturbed by the look of anguish on his face as his eyes
followed Magic.
Gloria rode next on Silver, who valiantly completed the course without errors, but also without the effortlessness exhibited by Magic. His stride became choppy at times as he tried to approach a jump at the right pace, his rider inexperienced in judging distances. Tess yelled out instructions through the megaphone, coaching Gloria through the course. Two more riders took their turns; the first had two refusals at the ditch, and the second rider’s horse ran out at almost every obstacle. Tess had walked to the middle of the field as she coached each rider over individual jumps.
Tess signaled for Crystal next. Crystal gathered her reins in her usual abrupt manner, and started down the hillside at a choppy posting trot and with Magic’s head stiff in the air. She kicked him into a canter and began the warm-up circle.
“Move your hands forward but keep your reins short,” Tess called. “Don’t let him pull the reins from your hands!” Magic shook and tossed his head, frantic with the tight hold. His canter became unbalanced and choppy, his leads disunited. “Keep him moving forward!” Tess directed. Crystal whacked Magic with her riding crop and jerked his head toward the first obstacle. “Don’t let him rush!” Tess yelled again.
With his head high, neck stiff, and ears laid back, the frightened horse rushed headlong toward the railroad tie jump, fighting for his head. He jumped high and wide, and after landing, galloped towards the woods beyond the field. Crystal screamed at him and jerked hard at the left side of his mouth to steer him back on course. Magic submitted to the painful pull and turned back to the left, now heading for the log. His speed increased, his only defense against the painful jabbing at his mouth that prevented him from reaching with his head and neck.
Tess continued to yell, “Take control; pull him back to a trot if you have to.”
Somehow Crystal completed the course, managing to forcefully jerk Magic to a trot before each jump, then whipping him with her crop as he tried to veer away. He refused once as he came to a cross-rail fence at an awkward angle and could not get his hindquarters underneath enough to thrust. He tried running out to escape the hard hold on his head, but each time, Tess yelled for Crystal to “circle him and get him over!” Finally, they completed all twelve obstacles of the course and returned to the group. There had been no grace, no fluidness, no freedom; and no applause from the onlookers.
“Well, you got him over the course,” Gloria greeted her friend, the most positive thing she could think of to say.
“Temperamental, isn’t he?” an onlooker commented.
“Look after him, okay, Sierra?” River asked her in a mournful tone. Sierra answered yes to his retreating back as he sprinted up the hill and out of sight.
The rest of the riders completed their rounds, and then Tess worked with individuals over problem obstacles. “You can cool your horses out; then we’ll meet in the lounge,” she announced as the last rider finally trotted successfully over the jump that her horse had refused several times.
Sierra trailed the group back to the stable and made sure she was available to take Magic from Crystal, who tossed her the reins and walked away chatting with another girl. Manuel arrived to help with the boarders’ horses, and took Silver from Gloria. Katrina took care of Calliope herself, but the other two boarders left their horses in the crossties, and Sierra and Manuel untacked, rinsed off, and cooled out the four horses. River did not return to help.
*****
Without knocking, River stepped into the office where Tess worked on training schedules at the computer. “I’m quitting,” he announced.
Tess pushed her chair back from the keyboard and turned to face him, frowning. “What for this time?” she asked with irritation undisguised in her tone.
“How come you didn’t talk that girl out of buying Magic? You know he’s not the right horse for her.”
“That is absolutely none of your business,” Tess stated coldly. “But for the record, I tried to discourage her and I tried to talk her father into saying no; but he gives her anything she wants.”
“I can’t stay here and watch her ruin him,” he snapped back with equal ire.
“He will hardly be ruined.”
They stared icily at each other for a few moments; then River turned abruptly to leave.
“Fine, quit! You’re just like your father,” Tess lowered her voice to a snarl.
River froze; then looked back at her with an expression as if she had slapped him. “I am nothing like my father,” he stated emphatically, clenching his fists at his sides.
“Right, and you don’t have a temper either,” she retorted sarcastically. She deliberately turned back to the computer and heard him slam the door as he left.
*****
12 Changes
Never push more than you can control and never hold more than you can push. – Arthur Kottas
*****
Sunday morning Sierra punched in the keypad combination to let herself in through the back door of the stable. As she flipped on the lights, welcoming whinnies from the horses greeted her, just in case she had forgotten they were hungry. “Don’t worry,” she called out reassuringly, “breakfast is coming.” Patches emerged from the shadows to entwine herself between Sierra’s legs, purring loudly. Sierra scooped her up and scratched behind her ears as she stepped into the feed room to grab the bag of cat chow and fill her dish. With a heavy heart, Sierra began filling the grain buckets, holding on to her scanty hope that River would show up in the next few minutes.
A short while later footsteps echoed down the cement aisle and Sierra’s heart leaped with relief. But the footsteps were accompanied by cheerful whistling (that’s not River), followed by Manuel’s voice greeting the horses. As he came into view he called out, “Mees Sierra,” we work togedeer today, yes?”
“River’s not coming?” Sierra asked as she stepped out of the feed room, even though she knew the answer.
Manuel shrugged and smiled sympathetically. “No, today no. ‘Ee queet. Come, I show you ‘ow to drive dee cart.”
Sierra and Manuel fed the horses and completed chores until time to turn the horses out. Always cheerful, whistling or singing, Manuel was easy to work with, but her heart ached for River’s unhappiness, and she already missed him. “What will Tess do without River?” she asked Manuel.
“Reever, ‘ee queet before. Maybe ‘ee come back.” Manuel shook his head and with a big sigh added, “Until ‘ee do, I no get day off.”
“I’m sorry, Manuel, Sierra commiserated. “I can clean stalls by myself so you could have a little more of the day free.”
Manuel argued with her at first but Sierra finally convinced him that she didn’t mind at all, and he gratefully left her alone cleaning stalls to return to Rosa.
When the stalls were cleaned and filled with fresh shavings, Sierra dejectedly strolled down the lane of paddocks to visit each horse before she went home. If River had stayed, they would be saddling up now to ride out on the trails, the usual activity on weekends. Not for the first time that morning, she fought back hot tears wanting to spill from her eyes. She wondered if she would ever have the chance to ride and take lessons again without River. She mentally added up the time since she had started lessons; five months and she could walk, trot, and canter a horse independently in the arena, perform circles and figure eights, and could trot and even canter a horse with confidence on the trails.
And she had jumped!
In her last few lessons, River had set up a row of six cavalletti; poles set on the ground equal distances apart and spaced so that her horse either trotted or cantered over them without losing his stride. River had already taught her how to shift her weight forward into two-point position, the correct position for jumping, and had her practice that position in the arena and on the trails. “As you round the corner and approach the cavalletti, get up into two-point,” he had told her. “You can grab mane if you start to lose your balance because he will move bigger over the poles.” After she became accustomed to riding the line of cava
lletti, River added a low cross-bar jump two strides from the last pole. When she trotted over the last pole, her horse took two strides and jumped the cross-bar. What a thrill to feel her horse’s back arch up underneath her as he seemed to fly over the low jump.
Sierra loved caring for the horses, but riding them was the ultimate joy of her life. She lay in bed each night reliving the day’s riding experience; analyzing the feel and what River had told her she had done well and what she needed to improve. Her last thoughts before falling asleep were on horseback as well as her first sleep-hazy images as she awoke in the morning.
Sierra had given each horse a treat and a pat and was on her way to her bicycle when she saw Tess’s Lexus pull into the stable yard. Tess usually took weekends off except for clinics or horse shows, so when she stepped out of the car dressed in her riding clothes, Sierra realized Tess must be here to take over riding the horses she would have assigned to River. Tess headed toward the stable, a very unpleasant expression on her face, and half way there looked up to notice Sierra. Her expression deepened into a scowl of annoyance.
What have I done now? Sierra never felt comfortable around Tess, always feeling like Tess regarded her as a pest that distracted River from his work.
“Sierra,” Tess beckoned to her.
“Yes?” Sierra came up to her apprehensively. Is she going to fire me because River is gone?
To Sierra’s great surprise, Tess said, “You’ve been very dependable helping out. Can I count on you to continue with the weekend chores?”
“Yes,” Sierra answered, still unsure of what Tess had in mind.
“River has quit,” Tess stated bluntly. “You’ll be working with Manuel. I can also use your help afternoons with the lesson horses. I know you were helping River and you know what to do, so if you can commit to these extra duties and I can depend on you, I can give you a regular lesson slot twice a week…Tuesdays and Thursdays at three-thirty.”