Join the Dance (Dancing With Horses Book 2) Page 3

  On a final drumbeat, the pair halted and saluted. The small crowd clapped and clapped. More than a few folks dabbed at their eyes.

  Joy hummed through my body. I turned, grinning, and high-fived Mandy and Shawn. “She was amazing. Santos is just so . . . ahh . . . so cool!”

  “Come on!” Mandy tugged my hand. “We have to go tell her how good she looked.”

  I told Kate I would meet her back at the barn and then followed Mandy down the bleachers. She wouldn’t let go of my hand, dragging me past the people trying to say a word to Erica. They moved aside for Mandy when she patted them on the arm.

  “Mom, you were awesome! Santos was so good!” Mandy tapped me, asking to be lifted up. I started to put my hands on her waist, wondering whether I could hoist her even as high as Erica’s knee, when Shawn gently moved me aside and easily lifted Mandy up onto his shoulders. Mandy was as tall as Erica on giant Santos, and she kissed her mom on the cheek. I stepped aside, feeling a little shy. Erica Flame, after all.

  “Thank you, Mandy Girl. He was a star tonight.” Erica smiled serenely amid the clamor. She ruffled Shawn’s hair and patted his cheek.

  Santos remained motionless but held his head high above everyone, gazing into the distance. What an imposing animal he was. Tall and muscular, he exuded nobility. No one stood near him or dared to touch him.

  Shawn set Mandy down . “I guess it will be vegetables for dinner tonight.”

  Erica laughed out loud. “Oh, no. I’m going to make you eat something like miso soup.”

  He grinned, fake gagged, and slapped her thigh. I stepped back. I didn’t belong here; I didn’t really know these people.

  I turned around to leave, but Santos lowered his regal head, blocking my escape. I held up my hand and he tickled my palm with his lips. I smiled. The king wanted a treat. He nudged my abdomen. I pulled a mint-flavored cookie out of my pocket and held it up for Erica to see. “Can I give him one?”

  She nodded. I slipped the treat between his lips. He took it gently and licked my hand with a massive tongue. I rubbed his cheek, whispering, “You were amazing. Good work.” He pushed his cheek into my hand.

  “He likes you, Jane,” Erica noted, with a hint of surprise in her voice. “Usually, he’s only affectionate with Mandy and me.”

  Everyone was looking at me. My face heated, and I stepped back. “Guess I’ll be eating sprouts,” I stuttered.

  Erica cocked her head in puzzlement, her eyebrows knitting together. Before I had a chance to elaborate someone else snagged her attention.

  The smile dropped off my face. Seriously, sprouts? I am an idiot. I started to push out of the little crowd, but Mandy grabbed my hand. “Mom! Can I go with Jane and Shawn until you’re done? Please?”

  Erica nodded without turning her head. Mandy grinned at me. “Let’s go. C’mon, Shawn.”

  I froze. “But I was going to...” Shawn’s flirty grin had me stuttering again. “I’m, ahh, just going back to the barn to take care of Windsong.”

  “No problem. I’ll help. My mom will be all busy with her publicity people and fans. Boring.”

  “Well, okay. Shawn probably has something else to do, so...”

  “Nope. I’ll come too.” Shawn slung an arm over Mandy’s shoulders and poked her in the ribs until she shrieked and lunged around to hide on my other side.

  “Please, go ahead. Do something else.” I pushed Mandy off of me and turned toward the barns.

  “ Our grooms take care of my horse, so I am at your service.”

  Damn! Would it be bad to tell him directly to hit the road? “Fine.” I tugged Mandy forward.

  Shawn didn’t have a problem refilling the water bucket and emptying the muck tub like I thought he would. He cheerfully lugged the buckets down the aisle while Mandy and I gave Windsong his grain and more hay. Before closing the door for the last time, I slipped Windsong some treats. “See you tomorrow, hot shot.” I rubbed his forehead.

  The shrill sound of Melinda’s voice made me want to hide in the stall with Windsong. I sighed. Be a big girl, you may be on the team with her.

  “Shawn?” she called. “Hi. What are you doing here?” Melinda’s eyes roved over the scene, taking in Windsong’s silhouette, and then fastened on Shawn.

  “Hey, Melinda. What’s going on?” he answered, setting the muck tub down and peering between the bars at Windsong.

  “I was going to . . .” Melinda darted a look at me when I stepped out of the stall and latched the door. It wasn’t friendly. “Oh, you’re here.” She turned back to Shawn and slipped an arm through his. “Come and have a drink. We’re hanging at my trailer.”

  “A drink would be awesome. Come on, Jane. Let’s go.” Shawn let Melinda pull him forward.

  Melinda scowled. “Jane’s busy.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Actually, I have to take Mandy back to her mom.”

  “Right. Meet us there then. ’Kay?” Shawn tossed over his shoulder. Melinda never even slowed down but clutched his arm closer.

  Mandy piped up, “I want to go, too.”

  “No kids!” Melinda yelled back.

  Just when I started to believe he was decent, the lure of a party set me straight about Shawn. I sighed. “Come on, your mom is probably wondering where you are. Do you know her cell number? We can text her.”

  “Of course. I’m eleven—almost twelve—not a baby.”

  Erica immediately responded to the message, and we made our way to the upper barns where the Grand Prix horses boarded.

  Halfway there, Erica met us on the path. “Jane, thank you so much. I really appreciate you watching Mandy. I know she enjoyed it. She thinks she’s a teenager.”

  “Oh, no problem, she’s great. Any time.” I waved away her thanks. “And, umm, . . . congratulations, again. You know, like, you totally won the bet.” As I backed away, my heel snagged on a stone and my arms swung wide as I caught my balance. I straightened. “Yeah, any time. Bye.” I spun around, hoping it was too dark for Erica to see my red face.

  “Bye, Jane.” Mandy called. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and turned to stroll away, pressing my lips together to keep any more of my crazy thoughts from slipping out, thoughts like maybe I could stop by Santos’s stall and give him a treat; or maybe Erica would invite me to dinner; or maybe she’d let me ride Santos for her; or—heck, maybe she would ask me to live with her and Mandy. A girl should dream big.

  On the darkened path leading to Melinda’s trailer, I stopped to reply to a text from Megan, my best friend. After pushing send, I started forward but stopped again in the shadows. Shawn sat in a captain’s chair under the awning of the trailer with a blond girl on his lap. His hand was under her shirt, but he was looking at Melinda. Melinda held a drink cup out to him. Her lips were pressed together, and the muscles in her cheeks bulged. Shawn caught sight of me at that moment and yanked his hand out from under the girl’s shirt to wave me over. Melinda spun around, her eyes snapping.

  I frowned. Was I supposed to sit on his other knee? I had never been invited to this little show party before. From the look on Melinda’s face, I wasn’t invited this time either. I turned and headed back to our trailer without bothering to say anything.

  #

  Chapter Five

  Kate had requested a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich for breakfast. And coffee—I couldn’t wait to get some coffee, too. Everyone else must have been thinking the same thing because the line at the grub truck was long. Finally, it was my turn, and what did they tell me? Out of bacon.

  “But that girl just got bacon sandwiches,” I whined.

  “I know. She got the last of it. We can do sausage.” The woman behind the counter smiled encouragingly.

  I blew out a big breath. “Okay, two sausage, cheese, and egg sandwiches and two large coffees.” I handed over the money.

  As I turned from the counter, I concentrated on not spilling the coffee. It was black gold and I didn’t want to waste a drop.
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br />   “Jane.” Shawn was standing in line. He had on a crumpled sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants. His hair stuck up every which way and he still had wrinkles on his cheeks from sleeping. Stupid butterflies. He managed to look darn cute, not that I noticed. I had a boyfriend. “Morning,” I mumbled without stopping.

  “Ten bucks for that cup of coffee,” he called.

  “Not on your life,” I tossed back over my shoulder and then nearly collided with Melinda. I steadied the coffee cups, thankfully losing only a small splash. “Morning, Melinda.”

  “Yesterday was just a fluke, little girl.” Venom dripped from her words. “I am going to whip your butt so bad today, you’ll never make the team.”

  “You can try.” I stepped around her.

  “FYI,” she added when her comment didn’t rattle me, “Shawn may act all friendly, but he plans on kicking your butt too. He told me last night.”

  I kept walking. “Funny, I have the same plan. Good luck beating me, Melinda.” I gave her a cocky grin.

  I dropped off Kate’s sandwich at the trailer and scarfed mine down on the way to the barn. I had fed Windsong first thing when I got up, but now I hurried so I could grab a wash stall and get him bathed before everyone else.

  Once his bath was done, I began to braid Windsong. His damp body was covered with a warm sheet. I was ahead of schedule but worked quickly so that if there were any interruptions like yesterday I would still have time for a good warm-up. I stepped off the overturned bucket I used as a step stool to reach his mane and ducked to grab a few swills from the coffee cup sitting on the ground. When I straightened up, Shawn was looking in through the bars of the stall.

  I jumped with a squeak, my hand flying to my heart. “You snuck up on me.”

  He laughed. “I was standing here the whole time. How come you didn’t come hang with us last night? We had a blast.”

  I am sure they did, or at least he did with all those girls sitting on him. “I was tired. I went to bed.” I stepped back on the bucket, combing a section of mane.

  “You missed a good time. Man, I stayed too late. I’m so tired and I have a monster hangover.” He rubbed his head. “Maybe I should do a quick shot, you know, hair of the dog. Want to?”

  I stopped braiding and glared at him.

  “No drink? It’ll help relax any preshow jitters.”

  “Relax is not in Windsong’s vocabulary. I’m fine.” Windsong shook his neck and the braid I was working on slipped out of my fingers. “Crap!”

  “You look tense.”

  I yanked on Windsong’s hair. “Stay still, wiggleworm,” I said through the comb between my teeth. I twisted the short hair between my fingers over and over again, self-conscious with Shawn watching.

  “Us guys respond better to soft stroking,” he said suggestively through the bars.

  I jerked, the hair slipping from my hands. I spit the comb out. “I take my riding seriously, Shawn.”

  “Me too,” he murmured, lifting a brow.

  My jaw dropped. Really? Was he implying —?

  He put a hand to his forehead. “Today, though, I wouldn’t be my best. I can barely see straight with this pounding head.”

  A teasing female voice drifted into the stall. “Good morning, Shawn. How are you feeling today?”

  “Ooooh. Alison, don’t yell so loudly. You know I have a hangover.” He turned and moved out of my vision.

  “I bet you do. You wouldn’t stop last night.”

  “You weren’t helping, you just kept pouring. I gotta get something for this headache. I’ll see you at the ring, Jane,” he called over his shoulder as they walked away.

  I hopped off the bucket and banged my head against the stall bars as I tried to see who Alison was, but they were too far down the aisle. So, I ducked under Windsong’s neck, slid the stall door open, and eased my head out. They were already at the other end of the barn, but I recognized the pale blond hair of the lap girl. How could they drink during a show like this? Didn’t they care if they did well, or were they so confident in their riding that they didn’t think it mattered? Whatever. It was their problem; mine was getting this mane done so I had plenty of time to warm up and ride a brilliant test.

  I finished braiding and jogged back behind the barns to where Kate had parked our trailer. I climbed into the living quarters, letting the door bang shut behind me. I grabbed an Oreo from the bag lying open on the floor and shoved the whole thing in my mouth as I slipped out of my jeans and tugged on my breeches. I pulled my sweatshirt up and was extracting my arms when I heard the trailer door bang again. “Hey! Get out!” At least that’s what I tried to say through my shirt with my mouth full of Oreo. If it was Shawn again, I’d have to kill him. “Geff mut!” I repeated.

  “Are you sure?” said a familiar voice. “Because I’m really enjoying the view.” Warm hands slid around my bare belly and burrowed into my open pants.

  My body jerked and I ripped at my sweatshirt until it finally came off. I spun around and threw myself into his arms. “Cory!”

  Oreo crumbs sprayed his face and shirt front. He leaned back. “I have to say the black Goth mouth does nothing for me. I was so enjoying my first view.”

  I chewed and swallowed. “What are you doing here? Did the interview, meeting thingy go well? Did you like the place?”

  He chuckled. “It went really well. I spent all day touring the facility, and then we went to dinner. They pitched their idea to me, and I told them I would think about it. Then I told them I had to leave in the middle of the night to catch my girlfriend’s ride.”

  I grinned. “Yay! You’ll have to tell me all about it later. I gotta get moving.” I gave him another squeeze and finished dressing.

  Cory helped me tack up Windsong, and we lead the horse to a mounting block at the end of the barn. Kate appeared just in time to carry my tailcoat. Cory held Windsong while I climbed aboard.

  “He looks great today. Let’s hope for peace and tranquility until your class is over,” Kate chortled. “You hate excitement, don’t you, Windsong?”

  I left Kate and Cory at the gate of the warm-up arena and immediately began trotting and stretching Windsong. It was always best to put him right to work. If I let him look around too much, he was bound to find something to act up about. Warming up in this ring was worse than driving on the highway at rush hour. At least on the highway, the cars all go in the same direction and signal before they turn. Warm-up was the only time dressage riders rode together in the same ring. This was a self-centered, aggressive bunch, and it was chaos. Everyone was determined to complete their own routine no matter what.

  Windsong loved it. The closer he was to other horses, the happier he was. I kept to the rail, tracking right, flexing his neck and giving him a long rein so he could stretch his nose toward the ground. A shimmering gray horse pounded at us, trotting on the rail from the opposite direction. The general rule was that opposing riders pass each other on the right to avoid a crash. I couldn’t catch this rider’s eye or figure out whether she intended to stay on the rail. She cocked her horse sideways into a shoulder-in and kept on coming. I applied my left leg and began shifting Windsong to the right so we could pass her.

  The rider’s black velvet helmet tipped up and pale blue eyes connected with mine. I sat back, shocked by the animosity I saw. It was the girl who had been sitting on Shawn’s lap. Alison. She moved her horse sharply sideways, purposefully blocking my path, and snickered.

  I yanked Windsong back onto the rail, and only his catlike response saved us from a collision. Who the hell did she think she was, and what was she trying to prove?

  Not bothered by the close call, Windsong kept trotting, but the gray horse pinned her ears and swished her tail in warning. Would she kick? I was trapped next to the fence, and it didn’t look like Alison was going to yield an inch. We passed so close, staring at each other, that the toe of my boot caught on her stirrup, shoving her foot solidly into her horse’s side. The annoyed horse lashed out with both back
legs and snaked her head around to bite Windsong. He dodged her hooves and teeth. I steadied him and looked back over my shoulder.

  The gray was shaking its head and bucking. Alison jerked on the reins, trying to get the mare back under control. Guess that didn’t go the way she planned. I moved Windsong into a canter and circled him around until I passed in front of her. “Best to always pass on the right,” I called out with a big smile. I raised my eyebrows when her face crumpled into a furious scowl, but Melinda had trained me well, so I finished my warm-up without another thought of Alison and her intimidation tactics.

  “C’mon guys! I want to watch the others in my class,” I called as I exited the ring.

  Cory put a hand on Windsong’s bridle to reassure him. Even though Windsong was seventeen hands high, making his back taller than many people, and he weighed in at fourteen hundred pounds, a fluttering bird could scare the brain right out of his head. We stopped outside the gate to the show arena.

  Cory leaned on the fence with one boot heel hooked on the lowest rail. As usual, his cowboy hat stood out among all the well-dressed, conservative dressage people. In the ring, Alison performed her test with precision, but this was a musical freestyle class, and artistic expression was a big part of the score. The pair looked like wooden soldiers. She came to a halt and saluted. The mare twirled her tail in an angry circle, and then pulled the reins and sped toward the gate.

  Alison stopped next to me. “You will lose,” she hissed.

  I shrugged. “Maybe not.” I patted Windsong’s neck. “We thrive on drama.”

  “I was on the team last year and won the individual gold on my mare, Kiss of Moonlight. You don’t have a chance of making the team. It’s way out of your league.” Her voice was low, brimming with hostility.

  “Four riders make the team. I have a chance. A pretty good chance, I’d say.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it.” Narrowing her eyes, she turned her horse and moved down the rail.

  A million invisible bugs crawled over my scalp, making my hair stand on end. I rubbed my arms. This was a competition and there was nothing she could really do to keep me off the team. Was there?