The Horsewoman(67)

I want to win, I thought now, the feeling coming over me like one of those hot flashes Mom talked about from time to time.

I don’t want her to beat me.

I wanted her to ride well. Wanted her to go clean. Just didn’t want her under thirty seconds. I wasn’t going to say that to Gus. I would never say it to her, no matter how things came out.

Nobody was making the Olympics today.

I still wanted to win. Wanted to beat her. Maybe to prove to myself that I could.

Prove to her that as competitive as she was, I was even more so.

Bad Ass Becky.

I watched her. Then watched the clock. She was riding like a dream today, even with her big horse, even on a tight course.

She was coming up on her only big choice, on the rollback, inside the two huge flower baskets, or outside.

Inside was where you picked up time.

She was sitting on my time. It was one of her many strengths as a rider, the clock she had inside her head when she couldn’t see the screen.

She had Coronado set up perfectly as they made their turn. I thought she had him squared up in time. He might have drifted slightly to the left, the way he did. But it was a left-hand turn.

She still had room to make it.

But at the last moment she played it safe.

Went outside.

Cleared the jump fine. Handled the water like a champ. Finished strong.

Before her score was official, going into the last jump, Gus quietly said, “You got her.”

“Yeah,” I said. My voice sounded weird to me, thick.

She was 30.5.

Still two horses to go. Both got rails. My time had stood up.

Hell, yeah.

There was no ceremony today. The event wasn’t big enough for that. The winners just went and collected their ribbons. I told Gus I’d get mine later. He told me to go get it now, he’d catch up with me, he had to take the wheelchair ramp back down to ring level.

“Go,” he said again.

Mom was already off Coronado by the time I got there, walking out of the schooling ring with Daniel. I waved at them. Mom smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. But Tyler Cullen, beer can in his hand, somehow appeared out of nowhere and got to her first.

“You ought to give the kid your ribbon, too,” he said, loud enough for everybody in the immediate area to hear.

Mom stopped. So did Daniel. So did I.

“And why would I do something like that?” Maggie Atwood said.

“You think everybody didn’t see you let her win?” Tyler said.

Then he turned around and pointed the can at me.

“And you know who knows it better than anybody?” he said. “Her.”





EIGHTY-FOUR



“SHUT UP, TYLER,” Gus said.

I didn’t know how Gus had gotten down to the ring as quickly as he had. But there he was. Breathing fire.

“Not your fight, Gus,” Tyler said. “Not talking about your rider here. You need to stay out of this.”

“Walk away,” Gus said.

“You first,” Tyler said.

He really did have a head full of rocks sometimes.

“Seriously?” I said.

“Didn’t mean that the way it came out,” Tyler said.

“No one cares,” I said. “And no one let me win anything.”

I started walking in his direction. Mom cut me off.

“I got this,” she said.

When she was close to Tyler, she motioned for him to follow her to the other end of the ring, as if for a private conversation. When they’d made their way down there, Mom seemed to be doing most of the talking. She seemed calm, hands stuffed into the back pockets of her breeches. From a distance, I thought she might actually be smiling.

Then she leaned forward and said something into his ear. Tyler stared at her for a moment before replying. Mom spoke once more. Then Tyler turned, hopped the fence, and headed in the direction of the barn area, beer can still in his hand. Walking fast. Not looking back.

Mom came back to where the rest of us were waiting for her.

“Okay,” I said. “What did you say to get him to shut his big mouth?”

“Well,” she said, “the first thing I told him, sweet as you please, was that if he actually thought that about me, he doesn’t know me nearly as well as he thought he did.”

“C’mon, it had to be more than that,” I said. “What did you say when you got up in his ear?”

Now she was really smiling.

“Just whispered ‘Dick Gilbert,’” she said.

I smiled. It was the name of Tyler’s owner.

“He asked what the hell that was supposed to mean,” Mom said. “And I just asked what he thought Dick would think if he found out his top rider wanted to ride my horse and not his.”

Gus Bennett nodded.

“Bad ass,” he said.

Mom said, “At that point it was game, set, match.”

Daniel said he was going to pick up Mom’s ribbon. I asked if he’d pick up mine, too. Then Mom said they were headed to the tent to meet up with Grandmother, and invited Gus and me to meet them there.

“I hate that tent and just about all the people in it,” Gus said. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Already knew that,” Mom said. “Had to ask, anyway.”