Best Enemies (Canterwood Crest)

Best Enemies (Canterwood Crest) by Jessica Burkhart Page A

Book: Best Enemies (Canterwood Crest) by Jessica Burkhart Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Burkhart
Ads: Link
of us urged our horses after Mr. Conner and we let them trot across the field to the start of the course.
    “One at a time on the course,” Mr. Conner said. “Heather will go first, then Eric, Jasmine, Sasha, and Callie. After the rider in front of you goes, wait five minutes before you start. Pay attention to the course flags. If you get into trouble, remember that someone will be a few minutes behind you.”
    We nodded.
    “And Callie,” Mr. Conner said. “If we don’t see you within ten minutes after Sasha comes in, I’ll be on the course.”
    I rubbed Charm’s neck and he snorted. Neither of us could wait to get out there.
    “Like last time, I’m going to take a shortcut across the field. I’ll be waiting at the finish line,” Mr. Conner said.
    Mr. Conner cantered Brooklyn away from us and Heather circled Aristocrat.
    “Try not to end up in the creek, Heather,” Jasmine said.
    Heather turned in her saddle and glared at Jasmine before settling into Aristocrat’s saddle. Finally, she asked him to canter. Aristocrat’s long strides carried them to the stone wall. Aristocrat jumped the wall and he and Heather disappeared into the woods.
    A few minutes later, Eric adjusted his cross-country vest and started out.
    “Good luck,” I said.
    “Gag,” Jasmine said, rolling her eyes. “Would you just go already?”
    Eric tapped his heels against Luna’s sides and she quickly accelerated into a canter. Her strides were shorter than Aristocrat’s, but she was fast. Eric guided her to the wall and she took it without hesitation.
    Jasmine rode off a few minutes later, then it was finally my turn.
    “Have fun,” Callie said. “And don’t even worry about the creek. Remember, you can jump the skinniest part on this course.”
    I nodded and sank my weight into the saddle.
    “Ready, boy?” I gave Charm rein and urged him forward. He cantered across the field and we reached the low stone wall with ivy growing along the top and sides. Charm lifted into the air and tucked his forelegs under his body. We landed on the other side and I let him canter for a few dozen yards down the straight dirt path.
    I slowed Charm as we approached a log pile. Charm leaped the logs and he cantered for six strides before we made a gradual turn and started toward the creek. I tried not to tense in the saddle, but I was nervous. I took a breath and paid attention to Charm’s body language—waiting fora flicker of nerves from him. But his canter didn’t slow as we approached the creek. I started counting strides.
Four, three, two, one, and up!
I squeezed my legs against Charm’s sides and he pushed with his hind legs, propelling us over the creek. I let out a breath when we landed on the dirt bank on the other side.
    “Nice,” I said as we trotted uphill and then through the final yards of woods. Charm’s canter quickened as the dirt changed to grass. Four jumps left. We trotted up another hill and the ground leveled. I could see Eric, Heather, and Jasmine waiting with Mr. Conner.
    I aimed Charm at a stack of hay bales and he jumped them without blinking. He took two brush jumps, with only a couple of strides between them, and then moved toward the final jump—a wooden gate. Charm tossed his head, tugging on the reins. He wanted to stretch into a gallop over the final yards toward the gate.
    Not. Happening.
    I squeezed the reins with my fingers, deepening my seat and lengthening my legs. Charm cantered a few more strides at the same speed before slowing.
    Three, two, one, and up!
I lifted out of the saddle and Charm jumped with too much force over the old brown gate. He jumped higher than necessary, landing heavilyon the other side. My hands slid down his neck and I wobbled in the saddle. Gripping the saddle with my knees, I corrected my seat.
    I slowed Charm to a trot, then a walk. Mr. Conner rode Brooklyn up to us.
    “How did it go?” he asked.
    “I was nervous before the creek,” I admitted. “But Charm didn’t have a

Similar Books

Between

Mary Ting

Wanted!

Caroline B. Cooney

She's Not There

P. J. Parrish

A SEAL's Fantasy

Tawny Weber

Pol Pot

Philip Short