The A Circuit 04- Rein It In (18 page)

“Well done,” Jamie said. “You two looked good out there.”

“Thanks.” Tommi gave Toccata a quick pat as Javier led him off toward the stalls. Then she unhooked her helmet. “He’s really on his game today.”

“Feeling ready for the handy?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah, we’ve got it. I’ve been working with him on trotting jumps all year, remember? He thinks they’re boring now.”

The handy hunter round, which was coming up as soon as everyone had finished the first round, was the reason Tommi and Toccata had ended up out of the ribbons at Harrisburg
last year. They’d been eating up the course until they came to the trot jump, which Toccata had taken as an invitation to act silly and pretend he’d never been asked to do such a thing in his life. She’d barely gotten him over it on the third try—totally embarrassing, and not a moment she planned to repeat.

Jamie nodded, his gaze wandering to Marissa, who was up next. She was sitting on her horse halfway down the entryway, huddled over and looking as if she might be sick at any moment. “We’ll talk later, okay?” Jamie told Tommi.

“Sure.” Tommi didn’t need Jamie to go over her round with her to know it had been pretty close to perfect.

She was smiling as she turned around, planning to head up to where Zara was sitting and watch Marissa and Fitz go. Kate wasn’t riding until later—Tommi hoped she’d be able to watch her before she had to warm up for her handy round. She’d been thrilled when Fitz texted to say that Kate had accepted that catch-ride. Apparently Jamie had talked her into it or something. Tommi wasn’t sure of the details, but she figured Zara might know. Ever since she’d started her campaign to identify that blogger, the girl had been on top of every bit of news and gossip out there.

As Tommi started up the steps into the stands, someone came barreling down toward her. “Sorry,” Tommi said automatically, starting to step back out of the way.

“Don’t be sorry.” It was Scott. He grinned and took her by the arm, steering her up to the nearest landing. “That was an amazing round.”

“Oh! Hi.” Tommi’s elbow felt warm where he’d touched it, even through layers of show shirt and jacket. “I heard yours was good, too. Didn’t get to see you go—I was warming up.”

“It’s okay, I don’t blame you for not wanting to watch and get psyched out.” He laughed, then reached out and took her hand. “Seriously, though, you were amazing. Glad I got to see it.”

“Thanks.” Tommi’s heart thumped as he squeezed her hand, and they just stood there smiling at each other. For a second she wondered if that blogger was watching. Would she and Scott end up a featured story tomorrow?

She shook off the thought. What did she care if they did? She and Scott were both young, single, and interested. Nothing wrong with that. Not that her love life was the world’s business, but hey, she’d had worse things written about her.

“Hey, my friend’s up next,” she said, noticing that Marissa was performing her opening circle.

“Cool. Let’s watch.” He pulled her toward a row of seats, stepping back to let her go in first. Always the gentleman, huh? Nice.

Tommi leaned her elbows on her knees, watching as Marissa aimed her horse at the first fence. She looked tense, but Miles was used to ignoring that. The horse yanked up his knees, sailing over the fence like a pro.

“Easy, easy,” Tommi murmured under her breath, her muscles automatically tensing into a half-halt as she saw Miles building speed toward the next jump.

“Ouch,” Scott said as the pair ended up chipping in.

That error seemed to wake Miles up, though, and the horse adjusted his own stride on the approach to the next one. The rest of the round was decent, though Tommi knew there was no way it would make the cutoff. Still, she guessed that Marissa was probably just happy to survive
without fainting or falling off or something. That wouldn’t be good enough for Tommi, but not everyone was as competitive as she was.

Then again, some people were. She shot a look over at Scott.

“So are you ready for Sunday?” she asked him.

“Haven’t really started thinking about eq yet.” His quick sideways glance told Tommi that probably wasn’t true, but she let it slide.

“Must be nice to be competing on a familiar horse,” she said. “Still, that’ll make it even sweeter when Fable and I beat your pants off.”

“Already trying to get my pants off, huh?” Scott raised an eyebrow and smirked, glancing down at his breeches. “Can’t wait.”

Tommi blushed. “That’s not what I meant, you perv.” She smacked him on the arm, then leaned back and watched the next rider come into the ring. “Anyway, Fable and I aren’t slacking off. We’ll be in the ring Saturday night making sure we’re ready. Jamie thinks if we get in there around eleven or so, it won’t be crowded.”

“Maybe not, but I can guarantee there will be at least one other horse in there.” Scott shrugged. “I was planning to school around that time myself.”

“Then I guess we’ll see you there.” Tommi knew she shouldn’t be so excited about that. She and Fable really did need all the schooling they could get if she wanted to have a chance of pinning.

Still, maybe having Scott there would be a good thing. Tommi always performed best under pressure, right? Besides,
having Scott around might distract her just enough to keep her show nerves at bay.

“Yeah.” Scott sounded pleased, too. “Guess we will.”

“How do I look?” Kate spun around slowly. “Any hay on my jacket? Hair sticking out?”

Fitz was lounging on one of the director’s chairs in Pelham Lane’s tack stall. Even though his handy round was still to come, he’d swapped out his tall boots for his favorite shabby old boat shoes, and his jacket, tie, and helmet were nowhere in sight. He stood, stretched, and stepped over to tweak Kate’s helmet, straightening it.

“You look perfect.” He cupped a hand around her neck, planting a whisper-soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “Gorgeous. Like always.”

Kate reached back to make sure he hadn’t messed up her hair, feeling rushed, nervous, and a little exasperated. This wasn’t the time for Fitz to play Mr. Romance. Didn’t he know that?

“Seriously, I’m not looking for compliments,” she told him. “I don’t want to look like a slob when I see Kara Parodi.”

“Seriously.” Fitz stepped back and smiled at her. “You look like a total pro. No horse slobber on your breeches, no toilet paper hanging off your boot, no boogers hanging out of your nose. Now let’s go find your horse.”

That made Kate laugh. “Okay, thanks.” She stepped over for one last check in the mirror hanging on one canvas wall. She was dressed in the best show clothes she could manage. Her tall boots were old and off-the-rack, but she took good
care of them and they fit her well. She’d found her jacket on the clearance rack of the local consignment shop, marked way down due to a small tear in a shoulder seam that had taken Nat all of five minutes to repair.

Kate felt a pang as her fingers slipped up toward the site of that rip. But no—she didn’t have time to think about Nat right now. Instead, she turned her gaze to her Tailored Sportsman breeches, checking for any stray bits of hay or shavings. Those breeches were among the nicest things she owned; they’d been an early Christmas gift from Tommi, and sometimes Kate felt funny about wearing them anywhere near a horse. But they definitely helped her look the part now.

Fitz was watching her. “Enough primping, princess,” he joked, grabbing her hand. “We’d better get you over there.”

Kate knew he was right. She definitely didn’t want to be late meeting Kara. She let Fitz pull her along the aisles and hallways of the show complex. When they reached the warm-up ring, Kate immediately spotted Kara standing by one of the jumps, schooling several riders.

“Wish me luck,” Kate said with a shiver.

“You don’t need it. You’re going to do great.” Fitz kissed her once more, then gave her a gentle shove into the ring. “Knock ’em dead, gorgeous.”

Kate tossed him a quick smile, then hurried into the ring, pausing to let a rider canter past. It wasn’t until the girl aimed her horse at Kara’s jump that Kate realized it was Charity, the owner of the gelding she was supposed to ride. Her current mount was a heavily built old-style warmblood mare with a massive head. The horse heaved itself over the jump and cantered away.

“Great,” Kara called. “Who’s next?”

As the trainer glanced around, she spotted Kate. She waved her over, and Kate hurried to join her beside the jump.

“Good, you’re here.” Kara grabbed the phone off her belt and sent a quick text. “Liam will bring the horse in and help you get mounted. Go ahead and get warmed up, and let me know when you’re ready to jump.”

Kate glanced at the entrance. A groom had just appeared leading a tall bay horse with a long neck and a graceful jig. “Thanks. Um, any advice?”

“He likes support with the reins but not much leg. When I rode him this morning he was spooking at everything, so be ready.” Kara spun around and jabbed a finger at one of her riders. “No, no, no, Merri!” she shouted. “I told you, you’ve got to
ride
, not just sit there!”

Deciding she’d been dismissed, Kate waited for a girl on a big gray to thunder past, then jogged over to the entrance. The groom was tugging lightly on the reins and humming as the bay horse snorted and eyed the action in the ring.

“Hi,” Kate said. “Um, I’m Kate. The catch-rider?”

“So you’re the one they picked to be Porter’s next victim, eh?” The groom had a lopsided smile and an Irish accent. “Lucky you.”

“He’s not that bad, is he?” Kate stepped over to pat the horse, who snuffled at her curiously.

The groom chuckled. “Nah. Only to hear his owner tell it.” He winked and shot a look at Charity, who was circling around to the jump again. “Need me to help swap out for your saddle?”

Kate smiled uncertainly. “Um, no thanks. That is, I don’t
have a saddle. I mean …” She glanced helplessly at the saddle on the horse.

“No worries.” The groom shrugged. “Guess that’s why Kara wanted him tacked up like this. I was wondering, but it doesn’t do to ask too many questions when she’s in show mode, know what I mean?” He winked again, then turned to pull down the nearest stirrup. “Let’s get these adjusted, then.”

As soon as Kate mounted, most of her nerves fled. This was her thing, the place she felt most at home. The horse shifted his weight beneath her, giving her a hint of his hair-trigger athleticism.

“Good boy,” she murmured, gathering up the reins. “Let’s see if we’re going to get along, all right?”

It felt like seconds later that Kate was staring out through the tunnel into the main ring. The warm-up had gone well. Porter wasn’t an easy ride, but he wasn’t as difficult as Kate had been expecting, either—sensitive, maybe a little insecure, but a real tryer. He’d overjumped the first warm-up fence by about a foot, eliciting snickers from a few of the watching riders, including Charity. Kate had stayed with him easily, though, pushing him forward and bringing him around again, steadying him more firmly on the second try. That time he’d sailed over in perfect hunter form, and Kara had actually smiled and shot Kate a thumbs-up.

Now the trainer was standing beside Porter, holding his bridle and barking out instructions that Kate barely heard. It was almost their turn to head into the ring. Was this really happening? Kate had ridden in her share of junior hunter
classes at shows up and down the East Coast. But this was different. This was
Indoors
.

“Okay, you’re up.” Kara let go of the bridle and stepped back as the gate swung open. “Go!”

Kate took a deep breath, urging Porter forward into the show ring. He was alert, and she could feel his muscles bunching as he looked for something to spook at. She ignored that, pushing him forward into a brisk trot and then asking for a leg yield to give him something else to think about. Still, she couldn’t blame him for being nervous. Her own stomach was fluttering like crazy, and her palms felt clammy beneath her gloves. Why did the arena look so much bigger now than it had when she’d been sitting out there earlier, watching other people ride?

Porter swerved, eyeing a large white banner hanging on the arena wall, and Kate realized she had to focus. “Come on, now,” she whispered, half-halting softly. “Let’s not be silly, okay?”