Moonlight Mile (6 page)

“I'm fine.” Nina gave her pony a nudge to turn him back toward her family. “Breezy's just a little excited, that's all.”

“Oh, dear.” Her grandmother looked worried. “I hope you'll be safe out there, Nina.”

“Don't worry about me.” Nina smiled. “Breezy will take care of me.”

“Yeah, relax, Gramma,” DeeDee put in. “Nina's a pro at this riding stuff.”

“Hmm.” Gramma Rose looked unconvinced, though she reached up to give the pony a careful nose rub.

“Anyway, I should probably finish my warm-up now,” Nina said. “And you guys should find seats. I think my first class starts soon.”

“All right.” Her father reached over the fence to pat Nina's leg. “We'll be cheering you on, Boo.”

“Thanks.” As her family hurried off, Nina gave Breezy a little kick to get him moving again. “Oops,” she said as he sprang into motion, this time breaking into a brisk trot. Deciding to go with it, Nina closed her legs against his side, steering him into the flow of traffic as his stride lengthened.

After a moment she passed Jordan, which made her think about Brett again. She glanced out toward the seating area, wondering where he was and if he was watching her right now.

What? Why would he be watching me?
she chided herself.
Stupid!

Still, her eyes swept the crowd. Her family was easy to spot, moving as a large, boisterous group toward a free
section of seats. She also spotted Trinity's red cloud of hair. But she didn't see Brett anywhere. . . .

“Whoops!” she blurted out as Breezy made a sudden turn to one side to avoid a horse that had stopped just ahead of them.

Both of Nina's feet slipped out of the stirrups at the unexpected move, and she clung on with her legs to keep her balance. Taking the squeeze as a request to go faster, Breezy broke into a canter.

“Whoa, baby,” Nina said. Luckily she'd kept her grip on the reins, and she tightened them to slow her pony. “Trot—now walk.”

Breezy obeyed, and Nina was able to get her stirrups back. She glanced around, hoping nobody had noticed her wobble.
Lemons into lemonade,
she told herself, smiling at the thought of her grandfather's favorite saying.
A little embarrassing, but a good reminder to pay attention.

“Here we go,” Nina whispered, feeling a flutter of excitement deep in her gut. She and Breezy had just stepped into the main ring for their first jumping class. The show was
being run as a hunter competition. Each division consisted of four classes—three jumping rounds and a group flat class. This first round was meant to start things off easy. The jumps were lower than those Nina had been practicing in lessons lately, and the course was simple and inviting, with no sharp turns or tricky distances.

We've so got this,
she thought as she nudged her pony into a canter.
Breezy could do a course like this in his sleep! In fact, half the time I think he does!

She almost giggled at the image of Breezy snoozing as he cantered over a jump. But she swallowed her laughter and reminded herself to focus.

They completed their opening circle, then headed toward the first obstacle, a small vertical decorated with cypress branches. Breezy pricked his ears at it a few strides out, but his steady canter never faltered. He met the jump in stride, sailing over easily, and Nina grinned. This was fun!

The next two jumps went just as well. Breezy landed on the correct canter lead and loped around the turn, and Nina glanced over her shoulder toward the next line. As she did, something outside the ring caught the corner of
her eye, just for a split second: a flash of movement, the flutter of something ghost-gray and wispy, like a tattered sleeve . . . For just that one moment, a flashback to her dream overwhelmed her, and she swore she smelled mothballs and wood smoke. . . .

What was that?
she wondered, turning her head to look.
Probably just a horse's tail or something . . .

As her eyes searched the crowd, she felt Breezy's stride wobble slightly. Quickly turning her attention back to what she was doing, Nina saw that the pony was veering to the left side of the jump. Was he thinking about running out, as Freckles had done in their lesson the other day?

They were only two strides out by now—not much time to correct their course. Nina kicked sharply with her left leg, tugging on the right rein at the same time. Breezy tossed his head and leaped to the right, his stride choppy. He was back in front of the jump now, but crooked and moving a little too fast.

“Go, Breezy!” Nina cried, kicking with both legs.

But it was too late. The pony tossed his head again and slammed on the brakes, almost sliding into the rails as he skidded to a stop.

Nina had already been leaning forward in anticipation of the coming jump; she was flung onto the front of the saddle and had to scramble to stop herself from sliding off over Breezy's shoulder. Somehow she shoved herself back into her seat, fishing for the stirrups she'd lost and grabbing for her reins as they slipped onto his neck. Her face flamed as she heard a sympathetic “Oooooh” go up from the watching crowd.

“It's okay, Nina!” Miss Adaline's voice floated out from the rail. “Circle and try again.”

Nina nodded, already turning Breezy away from the jump. She kicked him back into a canter, looping back around to approach the jump again. This time she kept him firmly between her hands and legs, and Breezy cleared the jump nicely.

The crowd cheered as they cantered on to the next jump, but Nina's mouth was set in a grim line.
I can't
believe I did that!
she thought.
Totally my fault. Breezy and I are supposed to be working as a team, and I just abandoned him right before the jump. So much for making my pony look good. . . .

She shook her head to banish the thought, not wanting to get distracted again. Luckily, Breezy wasn't easily flustered, and he recovered quickly from the stop, completing the rest of the course with no trouble at all.

“Nina!” Jordan hurried over with Freckles trailing behind her at the end of his reins as Nina rode out of the ring. “Oh my gosh, what happened?”

“I spaced out,” Nina said with a sigh, giving Breezy a pat. Then she forced a grin. “Actually, I should probably blame it on Great-Aunt Serena.”

“What?” Jordan's eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Nina smiled and shook her head as she slid down from the saddle and ran up her stirrups. “Something I saw outside the ring distracted me, that's all.” Her gaze wandered toward the area where she'd seen the flutter of gray. What had it been? There were no horses over there, and nobody wearing gray, either.

Jordan followed her gaze, still looking alarmed. “Do you really think—”

“Absolutely not.” Nina cut her off with a laugh, reminding herself that this was real life, not some moonlight-­fueled dream. “Anyway, Serena might have gotten us this time, but Breezy and I will make up for it in our next round!”

CHAPTER

6

“READY TO GET BACK IN
there, Breeze-
man?” Nina said as she checked her pony's girth.

She glanced toward the ring, where riders were already entering for the flat class. All the
horse
s and the riders in their division would be asked to walk, trot, and canter for the judge, who would be watching the quality of the animals' gaits. Since this show was supposed to be a learning experience for the students, the judge would also add or deduct points for the riders' position and use of aids, even though the rider wasn't normally judged in a hunter class.

Nina had already all but forgotten that disastrous fence in her first jumping round. The other two courses
had gone smoothly, and she thought she and Breezy might still have a shot at a ribbon if the flat class went well and the judge liked the pony's gaits.

“And of course she will, right?” she whispered into Breezy's ear as she adjusted his bridle. “Who could resist you?”

Breezy snorted, blowing out a splattering of yellow pony snot. Nina jumped back just in time to avoid it. She glanced down at her vintage breeches and laughed.

“You almost got me that time, Breezy,” she said. “Now come on—let's get in there.”

She led him to the mounting block and swung aboard. Miss Adaline was busy helping Jordan straighten her ­saddle pad, but Nina didn't really need any advice anyway. Walk, trot, canter—how hard could it be? They'd done mock flat classes in several of their lessons leading up to this show, so Nina knew what to expect.

Leaving her reins slack, she nudged Breezy into a walk, once again enjoying his extra energy. Steering with her legs, she aimed him toward the ring gate. Breezy snorted again and dodged half a step to one side as a cute little
chestnut mare passed by in front of him. Nina laughed.

“Settle down, you nut,” she said fondly. Leaning forward, she rubbed his neck, which was damp with sweat. “If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were some kind of fire-breathing—”

She didn't get to finish the comment. At that moment, something small and gray zipped past, inches from his front hooves. A split second later, a larger gray-and-white shape dashed after it in hot pursuit.

Cat, mouse.
The words barely had time to cross Nina's mind when she realized Breezy was spooking violently sideways. She grabbed a chunk of mane with one hand, scrabbling for the reins with the other. But it was too late—Breezy was bolting forward, galloping toward the ring with his head in the air. Nina managed to hang on and stay in the saddle, but just barely.

“Look out!” someone yelled as Breezy careened into the ring, almost crashing into a stout draft cross standing just inside.

“Sorry!” Nina blurted out, still trying to reel in the reins. “Breezy, whoa! Stop!”

The pony didn't seem to hear her. A horse kicked out at him as he raced by, and Nina heard the rider cry out. All around the ring, people were stopping their mounts or spinning away to get out of their path.

Finally Nina managed to gain enough balance to haul back on the reins, bracing herself on the stirrups. That finally seemed to get Breezy's attention. He slowed, the wild gallop turning into a canter and then a choppy, high-kneed trot.

“Nina!” Miss Adaline had rushed into the ring. She jumped forward, catching hold of Breezy's reins.

At that, the pony finally stopped. His head drooped, and his sides heaved.

“Oh, wow,” Nina said in a shaky voice. “Thanks.”

She cast a quick look around at the mayhem she and Breezy had left in their wake. Several riders had dismounted, including Jordan, whose face was pale. One girl, a younger rider Nina didn't know, appeared to be crying as she clutched her pony's reins.

“Sorry about that, everyone!” Miss Adaline called out. “Everything's under control. We'll start the class in a
moment.” Then she glanced up at Nina. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Nina forced a smile, though it felt as fake as Aunt Vi's fingernails.

“Okay, let's get him walking and make sure he's okay.” Miss Adaline gave a tug on the reins to start Breezy moving. “I'll stay with you for a minute.”

Nina was about to tell her she didn't have to do that; she could manage her own pony. But she bit her tongue and nodded instead. “Thanks,” she said.

As they walked slowly around the ring, Nina told her instructor what had happened. “It's so not like him,” she finished. “Since when does Breezy spook at something so silly?”

Miss Adaline shrugged. “Any horse can spook at anything at any time,” she reminded Nina. “That's why we always have to be thinking riders.”

“Yeah.” Nina knew she was right. Still, it was strange. Once again, she felt a twinge of that dream sneaking into her mind.

But she did her best to shake it off as the announcer called for the class to start. True, it wasn't like Breezy to
spook at a mouse. But it wasn't like Nina to think there was some spooky supernatural reason for it either.

No such thing as ghosts—duh!
The thought made her smile, which made her feel better. Miss Adaline hurried out of the ring, and Nina sat up straighter in the saddle, keeping Breezy walking along the rail as she waited for the first command.

Jordan was waiting just outside when Nina rode out of the ring. The flat class had just ended. Nina and Breezy had done pretty well, though Nina had been extra cautious with her aids, and as a result Breezy had been a little slow to pick up the canter each time. She hoped the judge wouldn't count that against them too much.

“Hey,” Jordan said. She'd already dismounted and run up her stirrups. “That was pretty wild what happened with Breezy. You okay?”

“Yeah, no worries.” Nina filled her in on the cat-and-mouse story.

“Wow,” Jordan said. “Breezy doesn't usually spook at stuff like that.”

“No kidding.” Nina didn't say anything else. She was still in the saddle, and over the heads of the people and ponies milling around, she'd just spotted Brett heading their way.

A moment later he was there. “Hey, Sis,” he said, grinning at Jordan. “You managed not to panic and fall off. Congrats.”

Jordan made a face. “Gee, thanks.”

Brett had already turned away to peer up at Nina. “I liked your entrance,” he said. “Very dramatic. Do you get extra points for that?”

“Yeah, I wanted to catch the judge's attention,” Nina quipped ruefully, swinging her right leg over her pony's back to dismount.

RRRRRRRIP!

Nina tried to stop herself, to get her rear end back in the saddle, but it was too late. Momentum carried her over and down to the ground, where she staggered slightly on landing. Nearby, she heard Jordan gasp loudly.

“Nina!” Jordan stage-whispered. “Your pants just split!”

Duh,
Nina wanted to say. But her entire body, including her mouth, seemed to be frozen. All except her eyes, which darted toward Brett's face. He was staring, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

Then he gulped and spun away. “Uh, gotta go,” he muttered, taking off into the crowd.

Finally Nina could move again. She dropped the reins, and both hands flew to her rear end. Just as she'd feared—just as she'd
known
—the entire back seam of her vintage breeches had split, leaving her lucky underwear on display for all to see.

“Go,” Jordan hissed, grabbing Breezy's dangling reins. “I've got him.”

Shooting her friend a silent look of thanks, Nina kept both hands where they were as she sprinted for the barn.

“Come on, dude.” Trinity leaned against the wall of Breezy's stall, arms crossed over her chest. “You've got to do it. You worked so hard on your costume!”

“I can't go back out there.” Nina didn't lift her gaze from Breezy's back, which she'd been brushing
obsessively for the past five minutes. “I can't.”

More than an hour had passed since her pants had split, and her lucky underwear was now safely ensconced in the black breeches she'd brought to wear with her Serena costume. But every time she thought about what had happened, Nina's face flamed as if it was happening all over again.

“Don't be a goober,” Trinity chided her. “You just need to go out there and show everyone you can laugh at yourself, and it'll be no big deal.”

She had a point. Nina had always been able to laugh at herself, and had never much cared what other people thought of her. So why did this feel so different, so humili­ating? It was a totally new feeling, and Nina didn't like it.

Jordan poked her head over the half door. She had Freckles cross-tied in the aisle outside, where Trinity had been helping her paint his coat in Mardi Gras colors.

“I don't know, Trin,” she said, her troubled hazel eyes darting from Trinity to Nina. “If I was Nina I wouldn't want to do the costume class either.”

“But you're not her, and she's not you,” Trinity
reminded her. She glanced at Nina. “Since when do you let something like this freak you out so much?”

“Since the entire world saw my lucky underwear,” Nina retorted.

Trinity smirked. “The entire world already saw your underwear when I dared you to moon half of Bourbon Street that time,” she pointed out. “So I mean, are you sure it's the world you're worried about? Or could it be a certain floppy-haired guy whose name rhymes with pet?”

“Huh?” Jordan blinked, looking confused.

Nina scowled at Trinity. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she snapped. “Anyway, I'm starting to wonder if my gramma and uncle are right. Maybe Serena really is out to get me.”

She was kidding—at least mostly—but Jordan's eyes went round and nervous. “Oh, you could totally be right!” she exclaimed. “See? I told you it was a bad idea!”

“Don't be a dork,” Trinity told her. “Nina's too smart to believe in that stuff. Right, Neens?”

“Right.” But secretly, Nina had to wonder:
What if?
Yes, she was smart—smart enough not to think she knew
everything. Was there a chance, even a small one, that the legends about Serena could be real?