little tense—there was so much to do, and even less time than usual to do it—but normally she thrived on the pressure, embracing it to help herself keep moving and get things done. But today she’d stalled out on what should be a quick, mindless task. What was wrong with her?
She started yet again. This time she was almost finished when she noticed a bulge halfway down.
“Aargh!” she cried, yanking the wrap loose yet again.
“Kate? Is that you?” Summer hurried around the corner. “Thank God! I need someone to come clean the schooling-ring gunk off my girth.”
“I can’t, Summer.” Kate was too annoyed with herself to be patient. Besides, even Summer should be able to manage to wipe down her girth herself. “I need to finish this first.”
“So finish already.” Summer shot a dismissive look at the wrap. “How long does it take to wrap a leg?”
Kate didn’t bother to point out that Summer probably wouldn’t be able to properly wrap a leg if she had all the time in the world. Instead she just gritted her teeth and started again. This time she was hardly halfway done before she had to give up.
“What are you doing?” Summer complained.
“It’s not laying right,” Kate said. “It needs to be even.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? You’re getting just as OCD as Jamie about that stuff.”
Kate froze, stung by the comment. Was that really how she came across to other people when she did stuff like rewrap a leg ten times until she was sure it was right? Kate had always thought of herself as a perfectionist. But now, for the first time, she wondered if maybe that was how her mother thought of herself, too.…
She squeezed her eyes shut, not liking where those thoughts were taking her. Pushing them aside, she quickly did the wrap again, this time trying to ignore the tiny imperfection in the edge, which even Jamie would never notice.
“I’m done,” she told Summer. “Just let me put this horse away, and I’ll come deal with your girth.”
EIGHT
Summer’s girth was sparkling clean, and Kate had moved on to picking out stalls when Jamie found her. “Got a minute?” he asked. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” Kate’s mind immediately flashed back over the past hour or so, wondering if she’d done something wrong—missed a tack change, screwed up a medication.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but you did a great job with the new Irish gelding in the schooling classes yesterday,” Jamie said.
Kate couldn’t help feeling flattered. Jamie was pretty stingy with the compliments, at least with his ambitious juniors. The nervous adult amateurs got plenty of praise whether they found eight perfect spots or accidentally rode the course backward. But Jamie expected Kate, Tommi, and the rest to perform at a certain level, and usually only mentioned it if they went above and beyond.
“Thanks,” she said, thinking back to her rides on one of Jamie’s sales horses. “But it was mostly him. I could’ve done a lot better. I totally biffed the approach to the second line, and reacted too slowly when he cut in on the turn—”
Jamie waved a hand to silence her. “Listen, I don’t have much time before I have to book it to the pony ring,” he said. “But I’m impressed by how hard you’ve been working on your riding. I think you could do really well in the Big Eq.”
For a second Kate wasn’t sure what to say. The Big Eq? Sure, she’d done an equitation class here and there, but she’d never even dreamed about competing seriously in the highly competitive 3’6“ junior equitation classes commonly known as the Big Eq. Did Jamie really think she was that good? Good enough to put her riding up against people like Tommi, Summer, Fitz—people who’d been showing with top trainers on top horses for their entire riding careers?
Even if he did, it didn’t matter. Eq horses were like a species unto themselves, quieter than
She started yet again. This time she was almost finished when she noticed a bulge halfway down.
“Aargh!” she cried, yanking the wrap loose yet again.
“Kate? Is that you?” Summer hurried around the corner. “Thank God! I need someone to come clean the schooling-ring gunk off my girth.”
“I can’t, Summer.” Kate was too annoyed with herself to be patient. Besides, even Summer should be able to manage to wipe down her girth herself. “I need to finish this first.”
“So finish already.” Summer shot a dismissive look at the wrap. “How long does it take to wrap a leg?”
Kate didn’t bother to point out that Summer probably wouldn’t be able to properly wrap a leg if she had all the time in the world. Instead she just gritted her teeth and started again. This time she was hardly halfway done before she had to give up.
“What are you doing?” Summer complained.
“It’s not laying right,” Kate said. “It needs to be even.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? You’re getting just as OCD as Jamie about that stuff.”
Kate froze, stung by the comment. Was that really how she came across to other people when she did stuff like rewrap a leg ten times until she was sure it was right? Kate had always thought of herself as a perfectionist. But now, for the first time, she wondered if maybe that was how her mother thought of herself, too.…
She squeezed her eyes shut, not liking where those thoughts were taking her. Pushing them aside, she quickly did the wrap again, this time trying to ignore the tiny imperfection in the edge, which even Jamie would never notice.
“I’m done,” she told Summer. “Just let me put this horse away, and I’ll come deal with your girth.”
EIGHT
Summer’s girth was sparkling clean, and Kate had moved on to picking out stalls when Jamie found her. “Got a minute?” he asked. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” Kate’s mind immediately flashed back over the past hour or so, wondering if she’d done something wrong—missed a tack change, screwed up a medication.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but you did a great job with the new Irish gelding in the schooling classes yesterday,” Jamie said.
Kate couldn’t help feeling flattered. Jamie was pretty stingy with the compliments, at least with his ambitious juniors. The nervous adult amateurs got plenty of praise whether they found eight perfect spots or accidentally rode the course backward. But Jamie expected Kate, Tommi, and the rest to perform at a certain level, and usually only mentioned it if they went above and beyond.
“Thanks,” she said, thinking back to her rides on one of Jamie’s sales horses. “But it was mostly him. I could’ve done a lot better. I totally biffed the approach to the second line, and reacted too slowly when he cut in on the turn—”
Jamie waved a hand to silence her. “Listen, I don’t have much time before I have to book it to the pony ring,” he said. “But I’m impressed by how hard you’ve been working on your riding. I think you could do really well in the Big Eq.”
For a second Kate wasn’t sure what to say. The Big Eq? Sure, she’d done an equitation class here and there, but she’d never even dreamed about competing seriously in the highly competitive 3’6“ junior equitation classes commonly known as the Big Eq. Did Jamie really think she was that good? Good enough to put her riding up against people like Tommi, Summer, Fitz—people who’d been showing with top trainers on top horses for their entire riding careers?
Even if he did, it didn’t matter. Eq horses were like a species unto themselves, quieter than
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