My Favorite Mistake (2 page)

“Yeah,” Alex said. “It won't be the same without you.”

His eyes gazed into hers hopefully. She hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain it to him. This wasn't just another horse show—not now that she had Legs to worry about. She'd bought the horse in partnership with her father, and part of the deal was that she had to get him sold by the fall. That meant every show counted right now. She couldn't afford to skip one.

Or could she? Looking into Alex's eyes, she had to wonder.
Sure, riding and showing was important. But so was the rest of her life. Besides, she'd been pushing Legs—and herself—pretty hard. They could both probably use a little time off, right?

“Okay, I definitely can't totally skip the show,” she said. “But maybe I can take a pass on the schooling class I was going to do on Wednesday morning. That way I wouldn't need to get there until Thursday. So at least I could sneak out to the Hamptons for a couple of days.”

“So you're in?” Alex sounded so psyched that the second thoughts Tommi was already having dissipated instantly. “Cool! It'll be so worth it—we're going to have a blast.”

“Yeah.” Tommi returned his smile. “I'm sure it'll be worth it.”

“Hey, boy. How're you feeling?” Kate Nilsen stepped toward the tall chestnut gelding looking out over his stall guard. The horse leaned forward as she approached, quickly lipping up the carrot chunk she pulled out of her jeans pocket. Just as quickly, he swung his head around, pricking his ears at a cat dashing down the aisle.

Kate felt her stomach clench with anxiety as she watched him. Ford, as the horse was known, had been one of the most promising young show hunters at Pelham Lane.

Now? He was pretty much a useless pasture ornament. At least until he healed from his injuries—if he ever did.

Hearing footsteps, Kate glanced over her shoulder. Marissa, one of the other junior riders at the barn, was walking toward her. “Hi,” Marissa said. “How's he doing?”

“He's not happy being stuck in his stall.” Kate dodged the horse's big head as he swung around to stare at a bird that had just landed on a nearby windowsill. “Vet says we can hand walk him a little, though. Maybe that will help. I was thinking I might take him out now, actually.”

“Cool. Let me know if I can, you know, help or whatever.” Marissa's smile looked forced and kind of guilty.

Kate understood, because she shared the same guilt. They'd both witnessed the accident that had robbed this horse of his soundness. So had most of the other junior riders at Pelham Lane. It had happened last weekend at the big Hounds Hollow show. There had been an after-hours party, and a bunch of drunken juniors had decided to play high jumper with some of the Pelham Lane horses. One of those juniors, a new girl named Zara, had ended up flipping Ford over the jump. She'd escaped without injury, but the gelding had pulled a suspensory and fractured his withers.

“I still can't believe we have to lie to Jamie about what happened,” Marissa whispered after taking a careful look around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear.

Kate knew what she meant, and then some. It was hard for any of them to lie to Jamie. But it was even worse for Kate. She owed Jamie so much more than the others. If he hadn't agreed to take her on as a working student, she'd still be stuck at her old lesson barn riding half-broke pukes from the local auction. She'd still be dreaming about riding nice horses at the big shows, not doing it.

Yes, she owed him everything. At least everything important. Normally she'd never lie to him. But this wasn't a normal situation. Not even close.

“It sucks,” she said softly. “But what can we do? We just have to …”

She let her voice trail off as she heard voices at the end of the aisle. A second later several chattering preteens rounded the corner, dressed for their morning lesson. At the same time one of the grooms, a guy in his early twenties named Max, appeared at the other end leading a freshly bathed pony. Even at this early hour on a Sunday morning, the barn was busy. Everyone, from the school kids to the working adults, wanted to get in some riding time before next week's show.

Marissa moved on toward her horse's stall, and Kate gave Ford another pat. “Back in a sec, big guy,” she told him. “Just need to grab a lead shank.”

She hurried toward the tack room. Spacious and well organized, it was the center of the barn both literally and figuratively. The big bandage trunk in the middle of the room often served double duty as a table, and at the moment bridle parts were scattered across its weathered wooden top—reins, nosebands, and more, all jumbled together. A browband and a couple of curb chains had fallen on the floor, where an elderly bulldog was snuffling at them with his pushed-in nose.

The guy bent over the pile of bits didn't seem to notice. He was scrubbing at some green horse slobber that had dried in the links of a Waterford bit when Kate entered, but looked up immediately when she said his name, flipping back his shock of reddish-blond hair.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted her with a rakish smile. Tossing aside the half-cleaned bit, he unfolded his tall, lanky body from its seat on an overturned bucket. In two quick steps he was across the room and giving her a kiss.

“You're here early,” she said, a little breathless. Kissing Fitz had that effect on her. Made her forget about everything else, even breathing.

“Tell me about it.” Fitz snorted. “Jamie wanted me here at the butt-crack of dawn so I could scrub down his grody tack.”

Kate giggled. “Come on. To most people, eight a.m. isn't exactly the butt-crack of dawn.”

“Maybe not. But I'm not used to getting up before noon.” He leaned in for another kiss. “Now I'm glad I did, though.”

Kate only hesitated for a moment before letting go, allowing her body to melt into his. Even after everything that had happened, it still felt really nice to be close to him.

Finally, remembering where they were, she pulled her lips away from his. “We should stop,” she whispered. “Someone will see.”

“So what? You ashamed of me?” He ran his hands up and down her bare arms. “Not that I'd blame you—I'm totally the barn loser right now.” He grinned, actually seeming kind of proud of the fact.

Kate didn't get that. If she was in as much trouble as Fitz was right now, she'd probably be wearing a bag over her head.

“You're on probation, remember?” she said, pulling away and hurrying over to grab a lead shank. “Jamie will freak if he catches you goofing off.”

Fitz just shrugged, not looking worried at all. Typical. Fitz wasn't the type to worry about much of anything. And why should he? His family was loaded, and his own quick wit, easy charm, and lanky good looks meant he could have pretty much any girl he wanted. He'd taken full advantage of that,
turning playerism into an art form all over the show circuit and beyond.

But things were different with Kate. She hadn't believed that at first, but now she did. What he'd done after Hounds Hollow had pretty much proved it.

“Nobody's here to see us except old Chaucer.” Fitz bent down to pat the bulldog, who'd wandered over to drool on Kate's paddock boots. “Can't I get just one more kiss? Come on—even prisoners at Sing Sing get a conjugal visit once in a while.”

He grabbed Kate's hand, pulling her closer again. “Well, okay, I guess,” she mumbled as his lips found hers again. “But just a quick one …”

This time Kate couldn't quite relax into the kiss. Thinking about what had happened last weekend was just another reminder of how different their lives were. When Fitz screwed up, his parents could almost always throw enough money at the situation to make it right again. Kate knew she didn't have that kind of margin of error. Her father's salary as a local cop had barely covered the purchase price of her beater car—no way could he afford to buy her even one hoof of any of the horses at Pelham Lane. Or be able to understand how an animal could cost more than their family home.

Just then someone else burst into the tack room, moving fast. Kate jumped away from Fitz in a panic, then slumped with relief when she saw that it was only Tommi.

“Hi,” she said, feeling self-conscious as Tommi's cool brown eyes took in the situation with a faint smile. Kate knew that her friend hadn't approved of her and Fitz getting together at
first—Tommi wasn't the type to keep her opinions to herself, and had pretty much come right out and said so. But she seemed to be coming around now. “Did you already finish your ride with Jamie?” Kate asked her.

“Nope, had to postpone—one of the adults wanted to sneak in a lesson before she left on some trip for work or something, so Jamie had to take her first.” Tommi stepped over and grabbed her well-broken-in County saddle from its rack. “I'm supposed to meet him in the ring in like twenty minutes.”

Kate just nodded. “I'll help you tack up,” she said, both disappointed and relieved to have an excuse to escape from Fitz. “See you,” she told him without quite meeting his eye. Then she grabbed Tommi's bridle off its hook and hurried out of the room.

Zara was in a pretty good mood as she skipped down the wire-and-wood staircase in her family's spacious SoHo loft.

“Yo, where's Mickey?” she called out to the various people milling around in the big main room below.

A nerdy-looking guy with wire-rimmed glasses—Zara couldn't remember his name, but she was pretty sure he was one of her father's accountants—heard her and glanced up from his laptop. “He's out.”

“What? When's he coming back? I need a ride to the barn.”

Nerdy Accountant Dude just shrugged, his attention already back on his spreadsheets or whatever. Real helpful. Zara stomped over to the foyer area near the brushed-stainless front door. Her dad was there, huddled with a couple of people in the nook he called the message center.

“Morning, Little Z,” he said with that easy smile, the one that had been making fans swoon for the legendary Zac Trask since his first album way back in the dark ages. “You're up early. Sleep okay?”

Zara just shrugged, not interested in making small talk with her own father. “Where's Mickey?”

“Out running an errand,” Zac said. “Lots to do before we leave.”

Zara glanced at the huge whiteboard calendar that took up most of the wall. That was where everyone wrote down the details of Zac's schedule—concerts, meetings, publicity events, TV appearances, whatever.

Right now, most of the calendar was covered with two words written in Zac's messy scrawl:
EUROPE, BABY!

Zara stared at the big matching star someone else had scribbled in the box for this coming Wednesday. In just three days, her dad and his posse would be in Amsterdam, partying like—well, like rock stars. Duh.

So why wasn't she tagging along? Zara had told everyone it was because she didn't want to miss the whole summer show season at her new barn. Maybe that was even true. Either way, she wasn't totally sure she was making the right choice.

Still, she figured it was a win-win. Her actress mother was in Vancouver shooting a movie for at least another month or two, which meant that once Zac left, Zara would be on her own. Well, except for whichever peons from his entourage he left behind to keep an eye on her. But they should be easy enough to whip into shape, and then? Party time in the loft every night.

“Whatever,” she said. “Someone needs to drive me to the barn, or else I'm calling the car service.” Stupid New York
City. She wasn't even allowed to think about driving in Manhattan until she turned seventeen, even though she'd had her permit already in California.

“Okay.” It was pretty obvious by the faraway look in Zac's moss-green eyes that he hadn't heard a word. “Listen, Little Z. Been meaning to tell you something.”

“What?” Zara started looking for her boots, which she was pretty sure she'd dropped in the foyer on her way in yesterday.