Hunter Derby: (Show Circuit Series -- Book 3) (26 page)

She tugged on her jeans and was halfway to the door while she was still pulling on her T-shirt.

“Where are you going?” Morgan said, like what had just happened was no big deal.

“You are never touching me ever again,” she shouted at him. “I’m done with you. I don’t know why it took me this long. You’re bat-shit crazy. You think I liked that? You hurting me? You need help. That’s all I can say.”

She grabbed her purse and rushed out of the room as he called to her saying he was sorry. But this time his apologies didn’t matter.

She only stopped to catch her breath once she was in her car. She was breathing so quickly, her heart racing. Tears poured out of her, giant sobs at how she’d let herself be treated. She didn’t try to contain them. She let them out, her whole body shaking.

After a time, the tears stopped, like she had emptied herself clean out. She pressed her forehead on the steering wheel and concentrated on breathing for a few moments until everything in her body calmed down. Her pulse slowed and she breathed normally again.

She wiped her face and checked herself out in the rearview mirror. There were no red marks on her neck. Yet. She stared at herself, hard. She thought she’d come to turning points in her life before. Like when she’d decided to turn Étienne in and leave Donnie. But this too felt like a turning point.

She was never going to sleep with just anybody again. She was never going to let someone treat her like Morgan had.

She looked hard at her reflection and made a vow to herself to have self-respect. She had promised as much to John, but promising it to herself felt more substantial.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Her second emotion was happy surprise—she was so glad that John had decided to bring Gidget to Derby Finals after all. Maybe he’d only done it to prove her theory about him being scared to compete against the very best wrong, but still, he had shown up.

The final, and strongest emotion, was regret that things had ended the way they had. Just seeing him from a distance made her ache. Maybe Linda was right—he was the one for her and if she hadn’t done so many stupid things maybe he would have come to feel the same way.

She trotted over to him and then came back to a walk. She wasn’t sure if he would even talk to her but time had passed—hopefully his anger had faded. It had to, if like Linda said, he asked about her often.

“
Sweetie
, you came!” she said, relying on their old joke to remind him of better times.

He chuckled. “I came.”

“That’s so great, I mean I’m so happy you’re showing her. I would have hated it if she didn’t show here.”

He gave her horse a once over. Zoe could feel him taking in the perfect tack, the impeccable grooming.

“How’s it riding the best hunters in the country? That’s Three Wishes, right? Is it as good as you thought it’d be?”

Zoe thought about telling him how it wasn’t all that, how it didn’t make her anywhere near as happy as it should have.

“It’s fine,” she said. “But I miss Gidget. I miss everything, actually. Morada Bay, Linda, Dakota, Narrow Lane. How’s Molly?”

“She’s good,” John said.

“That’s all you’re going to give me about her?”

“What else do you want to know?”

“Have you watched any new movies? Does she have any new favorite songs? How’s Sutter? I want to know how everybody is,” Zoe said. “I miss you all.” It was the closest she would come to saying she missed him.

“We’re all fine. Nothing much has changed. Life went on without you, believe it or not.”

“I never thought it wouldn’t,” Zoe said. “That’s kind of why I felt okay leaving.”

“Yeah, you did feel okay about it.”

Zoe blew out a breath. “No, I didn’t feel okay.” If only John knew how tortured she’d been since leaving and how unhappy she was.

John said, “You know what? It was probably the best thing for me because you were right in a way. I did need a kick in the ass—if I want to make a living I need to play with the big boys. No excuses. So, thank you.”

“Um, okay?” she said tentatively. “I mean I’m glad you’re here and I know you’ll do great. I can’t wait to watch Gidget go. Do you have anyone helping you? Depending on where we go in the order I could probably set jumps for you . . .”

“I’m all set,” John said.

Having no groom and no one on the ground at a regular show was bad enough, but it was totally inconceivable at a show like Derby Finals.

“You can’t be serious,” she said.

John gathered up his reins. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore, okay?”

“I’m not worried.”

“I better get moving.”

She called after him, “Say hi to Molly for me, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

Several of the top riders had multiple horses. Then there were riders with only one mount, including a few juniors and amateurs. Zoe knew most of the riders, but there were some from non-horsey areas of the country, like Idaho and Nebraska, without much experience on the national level. Although he was from horsey Bedford, John certainly fit that bill.

The course was beautiful and straightforward—no huge tricks or traps. A nice, welcoming start to the event. There were very few related distances, only one line and two combinations. The first two option jumps came early in the class at fences two and four, verticals with rails covered in roll-top carpet. Then you didn’t see another option till jump eight. Jump thirteen, the last obstacle, was the final option.

So a rider could choose to start out over the high options and if their horse started falling apart or the round became shaky they could finish by doing the low options.

Or the opposite—warm up over the low options and go for the high options if the horse was going well by the end. Of course the ideal route was to do all four high options. All three of the horses Zoe was riding were used to doing the high options. Each was a seasoned derby horse. Yes, Trey had won a lot more than the others, but there wasn’t a newbie in the group.

Zoe knew everyone was watching her throughout the day. And people at home would be watching the livestream and commenting on posts on Facebook.

This one show felt like it would mean the world for her future. If she rode the horses well and placed in the top ribbons, people would see her as a legitimate contender again.

She’d probably get multiple good job offers for Florida. She’d be even closer to putting her past mistakes behind her.

If she screwed up on such nice horses, they’d write her off as a has-been, as a kid who couldn’t make the transition from junior to pro. They’d no doubt bring up everything again—the drugs, the saddle stealing. People would probably spread rumors that she was high or hung-over and that was why she’d ridden like shit. They’d say they couldn’t understand how it was possible for someone to not do well on a horse like Trey.

It seemed crazy to wish she could be riding only Gidget—one unproven horse who had never been to Derby Finals, instead of having three chances on experienced mounts, but the thought did go through her mind more than once by the time the class began.

It was like wishing you had one lotto ticket to the Mega Millions over four tickets to the Daily Jackpot. But she did wish it. And she had to coach herself to stop those negative thoughts.

Especially after her first round with Corsica brought a rail at a slightly tight distance to a jump with lots of fill. Corsica stalled out a bit, peeking at the fill, jumping up too high, and snagging the rail behind.

The crowd groaned when it fell.

“Bad luck,” Grant said. “Maybe you could have ridden it a little looser but he still might have had it down.”

Zoe hopped off, feeling a pit in her stomach. Grant clearly wasn’t thrilled with how she’d ridden it.

But she had two more to ride and so she had to focus on those. The groom brought Milicete up.

Milicete was a little bay mare. You wouldn’t think she had a big stride or jump but somehow she did a lot with what she had to work with. Zoe had to admire her for that. She tended to be a little on the feisty and hot side so her preparation had included both being lunged and ridden.

Milicete felt nearly tired warming up in the Kentucky heat.

“You’ll have more horse in the ring,” Grant reminded her as he saw Zoe having to get her going in the schooling area. “Don’t let her fool you.”

“So she’s not so blah she’s going to be jumping by braille?” Zoe said.

The mare had rubbed quite a few of the warm-up jumps. Enough actually that the thought occurred to Zoe that maybe Grant had given her something to take the edge off.

While Zoe waited at the in-gate, Cassidy Rancher put in her round on Lawless. Her entourage was lined up along the rail. She rode beautifully and Zoe wondered if Cassidy would have even been a better choice than her to ride Grant’s horses.

“Great ride,” Zoe told her when she came out of the ring.

“Thanks,” Cassidy said. “Good luck!”

Milicete did perk up on the approach to the first fence. Grant was right—she would have more in the ring. Even if he had given her a calming agent, it was clear it wouldn’t be enough. The mare’s neck and back muscles tightened and her stride quickened. Zoe went into tone-it-down riding mode. Whisper-light leg, no quick moves. Smooth, smooth, smooth.

She managed the course without any big oopses but there was no doubt the mare looked as tense as she felt to Zoe, and the scores in the high seventies reflected just that.

Neither of her first two rides were getting back in the handy round—she was 0-for-2.

Zoe was glad to have John’s upcoming round to take her mind off her results so far. She spotted him walking into the warm-up ring and went to go see if he needed help. Even if he claimed he didn’t need her help he couldn’t very well get ready by himself.

She was approaching the schooling area when she heard Hugo Fine say, “John, what do you usually start over?” and John answer, “Small, square oxer would be great.”

She stopped in her tracks.
Good for him
, she thought.
It wasn’t all talk—he really was putting himself out there.

She turned back to the Rolex Stadium, found a seat in the stands, and waited.

When John was at the in-gate, one of Autumn Ridge’s grooms wiped off his boots and Gidget’s mouth while John and Hugo went over last minute plans.

John picked up a canter and the announcer went over his and Gidget’s accomplishments, which were few and paled in comparison to nearly every other rider in the class, even the juniors and the amateurs.

“Now stepping into the Rolex Arena from Bedford, New York, we welcome Girl Next Door. Girl Next Door is an eight year-old Belgian mare by Darco and out of Adelisa II. She placed in the Old Salem Derby, the Lake Placid Derby, and the Genessee Valley Derby this summer with Zoe Tramell handling the riding duties. She also won two derbies at the Vermont Summer Festival. In the saddle today, coming out of our professional divisions, is owner, John Bradstreet. As a junior, he competed in the equitation, winning the CHJA Medal Finals.”

John was big on Gidget—not the optimal look. But once she jumped the first jump, Zoe could tell the people watching—and probably the judges too—didn’t care much about his size. They were focused on Gidget’s jump.

John marched Gidget right around that course, nailing every distance. It was a much better round than Zoe had put in so far that day. And she couldn’t have been happier for him. She erupted in clapping and whooping.

It took a few extra moments for the judges to score the round. Surely, they were hesitant to give outrageous scores to a newcomer like John. But when the scores were announced he’d gotten an 86 from the first panel and a 90 from the second panel, plus the high option points.

She made her way to the in-gate to congratulate him but he was surrounded by Hugo’s large crew. She tried to maneuver past them and kept waiting for him to look around and see her but he didn’t. He was totally absorbed in Hugo’s high profile world and who could blame him? It was what she’d told him he needed to do all along.

Zoe turned away, deciding not to bother him.

Either way, Grant sat in his golf cart on the side of the warm-up ring and Lindsay stood by the jump on her crutches with a groom who helped her make adjustments.

“He’s jumping super,” Lindsay said. She was acting very cheerful, like positive reinforcement was her tactic to helping Zoe produce a good round.

As Zoe stood at the in-gate, she rolled her neck from side-to-side, loosening up her muscles. She still felt tight all over.

This was it—her last chance to get through to the handy round. How could she not get through on a horse like Trey?

Was this more pressure than the eq finals? It couldn’t be.

The horse before her landed off the horseshoe jump to moderate whoops. Scores in the mid-seventies from both panels flashed up on the board.

Zoe walked into the ring. She took an extra moment to collect herself before she departed into the canter.

Over the first few jumps, she was hyper aware—like she was watching herself ride. When she really nailed a round it was like she didn’t even think, like she couldn’t hear her own thoughts in her head. Maybe it was like meditating in a way.

But now she was talking to herself in her head about the fact that she was talking to herself—telling herself to settle down and get her head in the game. It was all bad. Very bad.

Only so far somehow she hadn’t messed up. Trey was jumping well and she had made it halfway around the course without screwing up. She started bargaining with the horse show gods—promising that if somehow she got around this course without flaw she’d get her shit together.