Back in the Saddle

CHAPTER

“LOOK—IT'S SNOWING
again.”

Haley Duncan followed her friend Tracey's gaze toward the big window at the far end of the crowded school cafeteria. “Yeah,” Haley said. “I heard it might today.”

Their other friend, Emma, stirred her chili and sighed. “I mean, it's March! Sometimes I think spring will never get here.”

“I know, right?” Tracey picked a pale green grape out of her fruit cup and stared at it mournfully. “I swear, when I'm old enough, I'm only going to apply to colleges in, like, Florida.”

“Oh, I don't know.” Haley watched the fat white flakes
spiral lazily down outside. “I'd miss the snow if I ever moved away from Wisconsin.” She glanced at her friends and grinned. “For one thing, it's fun to ride in.”

“Riding on the beach sounds fun too,” Tracey retorted, and popped the grape into her mouth.

Haley shrugged. “Good point! I bet Wings would like that.”

Her smile widened as she thought of her pony, Wings. The spunky Chincoteague technically belonged to a neighboring family, but when their daughter had gone off to college, they'd offered him to Haley on an indefinite free lease. That meant she got to keep him, take care of him, ride him, and treat him as her own pony for as long as she wanted. As far as Haley was concerned, that meant forever.

“Speaking of your riding, when's that big show thingy you keep talking about?” Tracey reached across the table to snag one of Emma's celery sticks. “Maybe Ems and I will come cheer you on.”

“Yeah.” Emma shivered. “But only if it stops snowing by then.”

“It's a week from Saturday.” Haley shivered too, but not from the cold. She and Wings had competed in plenty of small, local competitions in her chosen sport of eventing—one-day events, combined training days, and a handful of jumper shows. They'd mostly done well, even winning their share.

Then, the previous autumn, the two of them had taken part in a riding clinic with a well-known advanced-level eventer who was already aiming for the US Olympic Team. It had been a full day of focused learning in all three of the phases that made up the sport—dressage, cross-country jumping, and stadium jumping. Haley and Wings had both learned a lot, and shortly afterward Haley had made a vow to put their new skills to the test by entering a recognized event—one run under the rules of the national governing body for eventing, with licensed judges and fancier prizes. She knew the competition would be tougher there, but she was excited to show what she and her pony could do.

They'd been schooling and preparing for it all winter long, jumping around their homemade cross-country
course whenever the snow wasn't too deep, and practicing their dressage and show jumping the rest of the time in the makeshift arena her uncle had plowed for her in one of the pastures. Now, after all that hard work, it was hard to believe the big day was only a little more than a week away!

“The event's a week from this coming Saturday?” Emma said. Haley could see her friend quickly calculating the days in her head, blinking rapidly behind her thick glasses. “Wait, isn't that April Fools' Day?”

Haley shrugged. “I guess so.” She took a sip of her juice. “Never thought about that, but yeah, it's April first.”

Tracey laughed. “Uh-oh. Hope Wings doesn't decide to play a prank on you, Hales!” Suddenly her eyes widened, and she flicked a grape in Haley's direction. “Heads up!” she hissed. “Hot guys heading our way.”

Haley had been smiling, thinking about Wings, but now her mouth twitched down at the corners.
Hot guys?
That sounded like something Tracey's shallow, snooty older sister would say, not Tracey. Well, at least until recently. . . . And what about Emma? A year ago she would have made a joke about that kind of comment, but
now here she was tucking a stray strand of hair behind one ear and straightening her glasses as she followed Tracey's gaze with an eager smile.

Trying not to think about how much her friends had changed, Haley glanced that way too. She immediately noticed that one of the three boys wandering toward their table was Owen Lemke, who lived on a dairy farm a couple of miles down the road from Haley's family. He and his friend Vance were kicking an empty soda can back and forth between them like soccer players. Meanwhile the third boy, a skinny kid with a big grin named John, veered around the other two and loped forward to the girls' table. “Hey, ladies. Hey, Ghost Girl.” He tugged on Emma's pale ponytail.

“Don't call her that,” Haley told him with a frown. Emma had albinism, which meant her skin, hair, and eyes were very pale and her vision was so weak that she was considered legally blind, even though she could see fairly well with her glasses on. When they'd been younger, some of the other kids had teased Emma for being different. Haley had been in lots of confrontations—and even a
fistfight or two—while standing up for her friend, and so had Tracey. But over time Emma's happy disposition had won over most of the other kids, and she didn't get teased much anymore.

“It's okay.” Emma giggled and slapped John's hand away from her hair. “I don't mind.”

By now Owen and Vance had reached them too. “Yeah, chill out, Haley.” Owen grinned at Haley in that cocky, irritating way he had. “You seem kind of tense. Did your runty little mutt pony buck you off into a snowbank or something?”

“No way,” Tracey put in loyally. “In fact, we were just talking about how Haley's totally going to rock this big show she's doing soon.”

“Really?” Owen raised one eyebrow. “Let me guess. Does it involve a postage-stamp-size saddle and tight sissy pants?”

Vance snorted with laughter. “Yeah. And lots of prancing and fancy braided manes and stuff.”

Haley just rolled her eyes in response. Most of the other horse people in this rural corner of Wisconsin rode
Western, usually on registered quarter horses, paints, or Appaloosas. For instance, Vance was one of the top junior ropers in the area. Owen didn't compete in roping, though he sometimes entered his horse, Chance, in other Western events at local shows and rodeos.

John reached over Emma's shoulder, grabbed one of her cookies, and shoved it into his mouth before she could snatch it back. “That's okay,” he said as he chewed. “Haley's probably better off sticking to the sissy English stuff.”

“True, true.” Owen puffed out his chest. “If you can't ride with the big dogs, best stay on the porch.”

Tracey let out a snort. “Oh, please. Haley could ride rings around you dummies.”

“Oh yeah?” Owen grinned. “Then maybe she should prove it. There's a penning at River Ranch this weekend. If you're so hot, Duncan, maybe you should come show us how it's done.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Haley sipped her juice. “Wings and I are getting ready for an important event. We don't have time for that kid stuff.”

“Kid stuff?” John hooted. “Ooh, burn!”

Owen kicked at the leg of Haley's chair, almost making her lose her grip on her juice glass. “Sure, that's what they all say when they know they can't keep up,” he taunted. “I know the real reason you don't want to come. You know I'll make you and that spotted little thing you ride look like sissy English losers.”

“Right, that's totally it.” Haley put as much sarcasm into her voice as she could. “Actually I'm worried that your fat, lazy horse might accidentally break into a trot or something, and fall over from the effort. If Wings is in the way, he might get smushed.”

Tracey giggled. “Good one, Hales!”

Owen just snorted. “Seriously, Duncan. What are you afraid of? Think all that jumping and prancing you've been doing made your pony forget how to be a real cow horse?”

“What's to remember?” Haley shrugged. “Even a dummy like Chance can remember how to do something like that.”

She felt a twinge of guilt as soon as she'd said it. It was one thing to make fun of Owen, or to point out the obvious fact that Chance wasn't as quick or lively as Wings.
But Chance was a nice enough horse in his own way, and it wasn't his fault he belonged to such an annoying owner. Or his fault that Haley couldn't help comparing him to the world's smartest, most perfect pony.

“She probably thinks she's too good for a penning,” Vance drawled. “Those English riders are like that, you know.”

“Yeah,” John put in with a laugh. “They'll only go riding with, like, the queen of England or something.”

“With tea afterward,” Vance added, crooking one pinky finger as he pretended to sip tea.

Tracey giggled. “I so can't picture Haley having tea with the queen!” She shot Haley a sheepish glance. “No offense, Hales.”

Haley ignored her, glaring at all three boys. “Anyway, I don't have time for playing silly cowboy games right now, okay?”

“Don't have time, or don't have the guts?” Owen countered. “Five bucks says you're just making excuses because you know you can't beat me.”

“Oh yeah?” Haley perked up at the mention of money.
The entry fees for recognized events were a lot more than the fees for local schooling trials, and after paying for this event, she didn't have enough money left over for the new saddle pad she'd been eyeing. Maybe this penning was a way to make sure she and Wings looked their spiffiest for the big day. . . .

Then she shook her head. She could do without that new pad—she and Wings wouldn't need it to do their best. It was more important to stay focused on their goals.