But Silver is a competitor—she wants to win. We have that in common, and despite our respective tendency to be cranky, we work surprisingly well together. It’s not the same as it is with Whisky, but with practice I’m sure we can make it work.
I warm her up by walking around the arena while studying the course Dad and Bob must have worked all morning to set up.
I drove up to an empty house an hour earlier. Knowing I’m late, something Dakota and Bob are used to from me, I hurried to my room to change into my riding gear.
As I walked into the barn, I saw both Silver and Savannah saddled and ready to go, waiting for me to arrive.
“There you are,” Dakota shouted down the hallway. Ready to go, I presume. “We’ve been waiting.”
“I know, I’m sorry I’m late.” I hurried down the hall to Silver who eyed me warily. “Thank you for getting her ready.” I patted Silver on the neck, letting her get reacquainted with my presence while I talked to Dakota.
“No problem. I knew you weren’t going to be on time. Not with that hunk in your bed.” She snickered.
“Where’s your boy toy this morning?” I asked cheekily, trying to chanhe the subject, not yet ready to discuss my realization from earlier.
“He helped Bob and Wayne set up for us, now he’s off doing whatever with Wayne. I think they were talking about checking the cows.”
“Really?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know, but his family owns a ranch in Texas. He never really goes into it much, but from what I understand the operation is quite extensive, raising cattle.”
“That makes sense then. At least he’ll know what he’s doing.”
“Are you two chatterboxes ready? We got work to do.” I grimaced when I heard Bob yell down the hall from the direction of the arena entrance.
It’s Silver who brings me back to the present with a nudge, and I realize I should probably pay attention to what I’m doing. From what I’ve been told, Silver will prey on my inattentiveness, and that’s never something I enjoy having to deal with.
I go back to memorizing the course they set up. It’s simple compared to the ones we complete in competitions, but it still has some tricky elements. Bob has never taken it easy on us, regardless of having been out of practice for a couple months.
At first glance, the design looks like a simple eight jump course, until you notice the tight turns between a couple vertical jumps or the triple combination starting with a square oxer and ending on another with a vertical in between. Bob’s not going easy on us today.
Dakota rides up next to me. Her eyes scanning the course as well. Despite having walked it already, I always go over it a few more times in my head. “Bob’s not going easy on us today, is he?”
“Nope, did you see that triple combination?”
“Yeah. Haven’t done one of these in practice in a while.”
“That’s because you and Whisky know how to do those. You know his stride length in between, and he trusts you to lead him. Silver and you don’t have that relationship yet, so we’re practicing it,” I hear Bob say from the middle of the arena. “Now get them warmed up.”
And we do. Dakota and I cease speaking, both of us concentrating on what we’re supposed to do.
I use this time not only to warm Silver up, but also to get used to her. Her stride is slightly shorter, her lope not quite as smooth, and her attitude is something that will be interesting to deal with. I had to correct her quite a few times when she thought she knew better.
Bob set up a shorter cross rail for us as a warm up before we start on the more difficult jumps part of the course. None of the jumps are as high as they are at competitions, but they serve their purpose—me getting used to working with Silver. We’re lucky Dad’s arena is big, or we’d be pressed for space.
“Okay, Mon, you start,” Bob calls to me once we’re ready.
I take a moment to run the course in my head before I start her off in a collected and quiet lope. It’s like she can feel the excitement run through my veins at doing what I love and perks up, suddenly more than willing to work with me.
We start out perfectly, even the tight turn between the third and fourth jump goes well, until we reach the combination. She jumps the square oxer without an issue, but a miscommunication has her strides slightly too short and we’re too deep on the vertical, causing the top pole to fall. I try to keep her going, but she decides she’s done on the last oxer and instead jumps to the left, nearly throwing me off balance.
“Fuck,” I whisper, working to collect her and get her mind on the task at hand.
“Again,” Bob tells me. And I know why he’s decided to test us right off the bat with a complicated combination. Silver and I need practice.
Once Bob has put the bar back on the vertical, I turn and line up for the oxer once more. This time I know better, still her strides are just a tad too short, but the pole, while she grazed it, stays on. Two strides and we’re over the vertical. The difficult part is the one stride between the vertical and the second oxer, but she’s as determined as me to make it.
