Gold Medal Rider (9 page)

I
N
THE
CENTER
of the dressage arena, a woman on a sleek brown Thoroughbred drew to a square halt. She paused, her horse’s neck finely arched to the bit, then let the reins run loose through her fingers. She gave the horse a pat, and he stretched his neck long and walked out of the arena.

“Ohhh,” Stevie breathed. “That was beautiful. Did you see her extended trots? That horse—”

“Shhh,” Lisa said, sitting up straight to see over the people in front of them in the stands. “Here comes Kate.”

The Saddle Club watched, mesmerized, as their friend rode into the arena. They had already seen Nigel ride a clean, precise, preliminary-level test, and they knew he was pleased. They had also seen enough of the advanced-level
tests to know how good Kate and Southwood needed to be:
very
good.

“Is that really Kate?” Carole murmured. It was hard to recognize their friend in the championship rider they saw entering the ring.

Kate halted and dipped her head for her opening salute. From the halt she sent Southwood into a brisk working trot, and from there she rode the same pattern as all the other advanced-level riders: collections and extensions, trots and canters, tight circles and serpentines. Southwood’s movements seemed to flow one into another. His body bent and straightened to Kate’s nearly invisible commands. For the finish, Kate brought him to a four-square halt just as the previous rider had, dropped her reins, and gave him a pat. The Saddle Club cheered.

“She looked so
professional
,” Stevie said. The girls clambered down from the spectator stands and went to find their friend. “When we’re at the Bar None, she’s the only person who dresses more casually than me—scruffy jeans, old cowboy boots. In that ring, she looked like a whole different person!” Stevie waved her camera. “I’m glad I got some pictures of her.”

“It wasn’t just her clothes, it was her attitude,” Lisa said. “Imagine how hard it would be to ride Southwood that well when she doesn’t really know him. But Kate just knew she could do it. She’s got so much confidence. It’s as if the whole thing has to do with confidence, and Kate has it.”

By this time they had reached the edge of the arena. Kate and Southwood were halted near the gate, talking to Nigel. To The Saddle Club’s surprise, Kate was laughing.

“When I got to the far corner after the first serpentine,” she was saying, “I couldn’t remember what came next! I knew it was something canter, but I didn’t know if it was the counter-canter or the canter pirouette! So I just picked one and hoped for the best.” She laughed again. “I thought we were history. I kept waiting for the judges to tell me to try again.”

“Kate, you were great!” Stevie said, giving Southwood a pat.

“You looked so cool. I don’t think I could have kept my head like that!” Carole added.

“I’m used to it,” Kate said. “We could have been better with our collections; we’ll be marked down for that. And the fourth loop of the second serpentine stunk. But we didn’t have any major errors. Southwood’s a good mover.”

“He was fantastic!” Stevie said, a little taken aback by Kate’s comments. Stevie hadn’t seen any of the errors Kate was talking about, and dressage was her specialty. “I’d be thrilled if Belle could ever move so well.”

“He was bred to move well,” Kate pointed out. “And he is doing well—Nigel and Beatrice are good trainers—but he isn’t using his back as well as he could. He needs to round a bit.” She sighed. “He’s got a nice temperament, and that certainly helps. He didn’t fight me.”

Carole and Stevie exchanged glances. Even though Stevie loved dressage and Carole knew all about riding, neither of them had ever been quite so picky, or so unemotional, about any performance their horses gave. “So how well did Southwood actually do?” Stevie asked at last.

“I’d guess we’ll end up in the middle of the pack,” Kate said. “That still puts us in contention to win. We weren’t brilliant, but we didn’t have any big goof ups. The hardest part comes next.”

Kate began walking Southwood back to the stables, and the rest of The Saddle Club trailed behind her. Suddenly Kate halted Southwood. “Look,” she said quietly. She used her dressage whip to point to a gray horse and female rider who were warming up for their dressage test.

“It’s Karen!” Lisa said, recognizing Dorothy’s friend. “Gosh, what a beautiful horse!” She waved, and Karen, who was close enough to hear them, nodded back and smiled.

“Too bad her horse isn’t traveling straight,” Kate said, in a louder voice.

“Kate, what are you talking about? He looks perfectly straight!” Stevie was astonished.

“No, he’s not, and he’s not using his hind end at all,” Kate continued, still loud enough for Karen to hear every word.

“Kate, shhh! She’ll hear you!” Carole hissed.

Kate looked at Karen for a moment longer, and then
down at her friends. They were shocked by the dark expression on her face. “That should give her something to think about,” Kate said, more quietly. “Right before her test, too.” She sounded satisfied.

“But Kate! She’s a friend!” Lisa could hardly believe that Kate would do such a thing—deliberately try to upset Karen right before her competition.

Kate’s look of satisfaction faded as she saw The Saddle Club’s dismay. She dropped her eyes as if ashamed. “There are no friends in competition,” she said at last.

“But of course there are!” Carole protested.

“I never found any,” Kate snapped back. She did feel ashamed. Already her old problems were coming back! Why was it never enough for her to do her best? Why did she have to beat everyone else? She didn’t know. She only knew that something about competition made her heart turn sour. They returned to the stables in silence.

W
HILE
THEY
WERE
still in Southwood’s stall taking off his dressage gear, Dorothy came down the aisle. She had a big smile on her face and a piece of paper in her hands. “They just posted the dressage results,” she said. “Kate, out of thirty-three riders, you’re in eighth place!”

Kate’s eyes shone bright. “We did better than I thought, then,” she said. She started to bend down to take off one of Southwood’s leg wraps, but Dorothy caught her into a hug.

“Do you realize how good that is?” Dorothy asked. “You were fantastic! Everyone’s been talking about you.”

Kate gave Dorothy a small fierce smile. “Great,” she said. She bent down again, finished removing the wrap, and stood back up. “Where did Karen place?” she asked.

Dorothy checked. “She’s got two horses in your division,” she said. “Her young one must have had a problem—he’s twenty-seventh. Her old veteran, Singalong, is fifth.”

“What color is her old horse, Singalong?” Carole asked softly.

“Gray. Her young horse is a bay.”

Carole nodded, feeling relieved. At least Kate’s comment hadn’t caused Karen to ride poorly.

Kate nodded, too. “I think I’ll go check out the competition. I won’t be long.” She pushed past the rest of The Saddle Club and left the stabling area.

“Whoa.” Lisa watched Kate walk away. “That was weird. She didn’t give us a chance to congratulate her. And why would she say those things about Karen’s horse, back when we were by the dressage arena? That was really rude!”

“What things?” Dorothy asked. With some hesitation, Lisa and Carole described what Kate had said.

“The horse was doing fine,” Stevie added. “I think Kate just wanted Karen to mess up.”

Dorothy nodded, looking sad. “It’s a common enough
technique—trying to make your opponent nervous. I’m sorry that Kate sank to doing it, but I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Karen’s far too experienced to be bothered by anything Kate says, and I’m sure Kate only said it because she’s nervous. This is a tough competition for her.”

“We know that,” Carole said. “It just isn’t like her.”

“Kate’ll be okay,” Dorothy assured them. “Now, I’m going to go get sandwiches for all of us. If you see Nigel, tell him so, please. You girls should take a few minutes’ rest. You’ve worked hard this morning.”

The Saddle Club sat down on some hay bales. “What a morning,” Stevie said, shaking her head. “Kate in eighth place! That’s wonderful. After the way she criticized her round, I didn’t expect her to do well at all.”

“She said she did pretty well,” Lisa said. “She seemed satisfied.”

“She thought she’d gotten a lot of things wrong, too,” Stevie argued. “She mostly talked about the faults they had.”

“Well, she’s not in first place,” Carole answered. “I think Kate critiqued her round fairly. Probably even the first place round wasn’t perfect. We’re just not used to the standards of this level of competition. But I want to ask you two …” Carole picked at a piece of baling twine. “Do you agree with Dorothy? Do you think Kate’s attitude is okay, or at least not that big of a deal?”

Stevie heard the unhappiness in Carole’s voice. “Do you
mean the way she wants to win at any cost?” she asked. “I know that attitude too well. And I don’t think it’s okay. I’ve learned how destructive it can be.” Stevie’s natural competitiveness had almost caused her to break up with her boyfriend and had once caused her a lot of problems with her horse.

“Maybe it’s part of being a top rider,” Lisa said tentatively. “At this level, I think you need to be competitive. All of the top riders probably have big goals. Like the Olympics.”

Carole shook her head. “I don’t think you have to act like Kate just did. Nigel never would, neither would Dorothy.”

“Beatrice might,” Stevie said.

“Exactly,” Carole retorted.

“Well, Beatrice isn’t going to the Olympics now. She ought to sell Southwood to Kate.” Stevie said the words casually, but the moment they were out of her mouth she recognized them for the brilliant idea they were. Lisa and Carole stared at her open-mouthed.

“They get along so well together,” Lisa said.

Carole clapped her hands. “Stevie, you’re right! Southwood would be the perfect horse to take Kate to the Olympics!” She smiled at Stevie and Lisa, her unhappiness at Kate’s attitude temporarily forgotten. “Maybe it really will happen: our friend, Kate Devine, a gold medal rider!”

T
HE
GIRLS
STARED
at each other with faces full of excited delight. “Well,” Stevie said, breaking the slight silence, “I don’t think we should tell her our plan right away.”

“Right,” Lisa agreed. “Kate doesn’t know about Beatrice yet anyway. Once she learns that, we can tell her about our plan for the Olympics.”

“She’ll be thrilled,” Carole predicted. “She and Southwood are a great match already. And her parents have so much room at the Bar None, they’ll never mind her getting another horse.”

Stevie leaned back against the wall of Campfire’s stall. “I bet Kate has already thought about it,” she said. “The
Olympics, I mean. I bet that’s the reason she’s taking this so seriously. If she does well here, with no preparation, won’t that prove how really great she can be? I bet she’s already planning on coming back to competition. With four and a half years’ training and the right horse, she could be one of the best in the world.”

“Then we can all go to Australia and watch Kate ride,” Lisa said dreamily.

Carole smiled. “Watch her and Southwood. He is definitely the right horse.”

Nigel came bustling into the barn. He had changed from his dressage gear into a protective vest and a bright green-and-blue jersey. His helmet was covered with matching green-and-blue fabric. “What ho, lazybones!” he cried when he saw The Saddle Club sitting down. “Get up, get up! As you Yanks say, Time’s a-wastin’! Where’s Doro?”

“Gone to get lunch,” Carole said. They scrambled up and helped Nigel bring Campfire out to the cross-ties.

“She must be joking,” Nigel declared. “She knows I could never eat right now. Help me get this horse ready, girls!”

They helped saddle and bridle Campfire. The horse let out a loud whinny. From a neighboring aisle, another horse replied.

“Campfire knows it’s time for cross-country,” Nigel said. “He’s ready to run.” Nigel sounded pleased.

Dorothy came in with a huge bag of sandwiches and
several sodas. “Sorry I’m so late—the lines were awful! Here, honey, have a sandwich.”

Nigel looked at her dolefully. “You can’t be serious.” He quickly unwrapped a sandwich and took two huge bites.

“Well, then at least have a soda,” Dorothy said, grinning at The Saddle Club.

“No, I really can’t,” Nigel said. He took one and swallowed several gulps. “Thank you. Let’s go!”

Nigel buckled his helmet on and picked up his crop. He tied his number around his waist. Dorothy went over Campfire briefly, checking to make sure every buckle of his tack was secure. She kissed Campfire on the nose for luck. She tried to kiss Nigel, but he wouldn’t let her. He grabbed Campfire’s reins and headed for the start box. The others followed at a slight distance. Stevie took a picture of Nigel mounting.

“Campfire is his baby,” Dorothy said. “Nigel raised him from a foal. I hope that horse goes well today.”

“How’d they do in dressage?” Stevie asked.

“That’s right, I never told you. Top half of the field. Good, for a young horse. We’re pleased.” Dorothy smiled. “We don’t think Campfire’s going to be the superstar that Southwood might be, but we think he’ll be an advanced horse. He may surprise us, for good or for bad. Today we just want him to jump clear and be brave.”