My Favorite Mistake (20 page)

“Canter,” she told the horse, adding a cluck and a little swish of the tail end of the line to encourage him. Not that Legs ever needed much encouragement to speed up. He broke into a canter immediately, building speed quickly.

Tommi got him slowed down to a more reasonable pace, then started composing another one-handed response to Alex, spinning on her heel as the horse circled around her. Just then she heard someone call her name.

Glancing up, she saw a girl around her own age standing at the rail. She was dressed in fringed custom chaps over breeches and a Joules polo, and for a second Tommi didn't recognize her. But then it clicked.

“Hey, Vanessa,” she called. “What's up?”

She returned her attention to Legs, expecting the girl to
move on. After all, it wasn't as if they were friends—not even horse-show friends, really. Vanessa was the daughter of some big-time real estate developer in Boston. She rode at one of the nicer barns up there, where she kept a string of winning jumpers. Rarely the same ones from one year to the next, though. She tended to use them up fast by always wanting to jump more, jump higher, jump jump jump. She was an aggressive rider and won a lot, but had a rep for not being quite as talented as she thought she was.

When Tommi brought Legs to a halt and unhooked the lunge line a few minutes later, she was surprised to see Vanessa still standing there. “Cute horse,” Vanessa called. “Yours?”

“Uh-huh. Sale project,” Tommi said. “So your barn decided to come out for this one, huh?”

“Yeah, and I'm glad we did.” Vanessa smoothed her glossy dark hair with one hand. “I already won my first division, not that anyone was surprised. I mean, at the last show I was one-two in the High Juniors, and then my green horse and I just barely missed reserve champion in his first division, and …”

There was more, but Tommi only pretended to listen as she clipped a lead to her horse's halter, folded up the lunge line, and got ready to go. Now she remembered the other reason Vanessa wasn't one of her favorite people. The girl was full of herself and seriously obnoxious.

“Congrats,” Tommi said the first chance she had to get a word in edgewise. “Listen, I'd better get this guy back to the barn. See you around.”

“Don't you ever sit still?” Dani said. “It makes me tired just watching you.”

Kate tightened the girth of the big flea-bitten gray gelding she was tacking up in the cross-ties. Then she glanced at the other girl, who was perched on an overturned bucket in the aisle, fiddling with the laces of her field boots.

“Jamie decided to scratch that new Dutch horse from the Level Threes, so he offered to give Mrs. Walsh a quick extra lesson now that he has a little spare time. Miguel's still out picking up more shavings and I'm not sure what happened to Javier, so I said I could tack up Moonie before I have to start lungeing those ponies.” Kate patted the gray gelding, who had one hind leg cocked lazily. He barely flicked an ear as she did up the girth one more hole. “Anyway, you know how it is at shows,” she went on. “There's always way too much to do.”

“Yeah, but you're the same way at home.” Dani grinned. “I swear, you could run the whole freaking barn all by yourself.”

Just then Mrs. Walsh hurried up to them. She was one of the wealthiest clients in the barn, but that wasn't why everyone from the grooms to the pony riders to the other adults liked her. She always had a smile and a kind word for everyone, and frequently turned up at shows bearing cookies or cupcakes that she'd baked herself. So maybe she wasn't the best baker in the world, but somehow nobody minded. It was still better than most horse-show food.

“Thank you so much, Kate,” Mrs. Walsh said, her cheeks dimpling with pleasure as she gazed at her horse. “He looks wonderful.” At the sound of her voice, the gray gelding immediately woke up and stretched his neck toward his owner, nuzzling her
for treats. She pulled a peppermint out of the pocket of her high-waisted Pikeur breeches and fed it to him. “Jamie is meeting me at that little ring behind the tack vendor.”

“I'll bring him up as soon as I get his bridle on, Mrs. Walsh,” Kate promised.

“Wonderful.” Mrs. Walsh beamed at her. “By the way, I've been meaning to ask you—I've been having a spot of trouble with my mare lately. You know me and my silly nerves.” She laughed ruefully and shook her head. “In any case, I've decided I'm not up for showing her this time. It seems a shame to bring her all the way up here just to sit in her stall. Would you have any interest in showing her in the Junior Hunters on Saturday?”

Normally Kate would have jumped at the chance to show Mrs. Walsh's mare, a fabulously keen and impeccably trained Selle Français with an amazing jump. Today, though, she hesitated.

“Um, that's really nice of you to offer,” she said. “But I don't think I can. I already told Jamie I'd ride two of his in the Schooling Hunters, and I think it might run at the same time.”

“Oh, dear. What bad luck.” Mrs. Walsh shrugged. “I suppose I'll see if Tommi has time for one more, then.”

“I'll mention it to her for you if I see her first,” Kate promised, already feeling guilty.

As soon as the woman left to find her helmet, Dani stared at Kate. “Are you nuts?” she said. “That horse is amazing! I'm sure Jamie wouldn't mind shuffling the order so you could do her in the Juniors.”

Kate shrugged. “I know. But like you were just saying, I'm
pretty busy,” she mumbled. “I've already got those two in the Schoolings, then the eq is right after that, plus a bunch more hunter stuff on Sunday. Oh, and the first one in the Schoolings is that cute little chestnut greenie who takes forever to warm up.”

A nervous shiver ran through her when she mentioned the chestnut horse—her first show-ring trip of the week. Not that she was worried about the ride itself. The chestnut gelding was a sweetheart who tried his heart out every time, even if he didn't quite know what he was doing yet.

No, it was the showing part that was the problem. Specifically, the fact that when she'd arrived a couple of days ago, Kate had realized that her show clothes weren't fitting very well. Somehow it seemed she'd lost a bunch of weight over the past couple of weeks without even noticing, to the point that she'd gone down a full size if not two.

She was pretty sure she could get away with the show shirt if she pinned it, and her jacket was dark and structured enough that it didn't look too bad—plus she only had to slip that on long enough for the actual classes, where nobody would see her up close. Her boots were feeling a little looser than usual, but they would do, too.

The big problem was her breeches. Even at a distance, it was impossible to miss how baggy they were. They were a knock-off of Tailored Sportsmans side-zips, made with the same type of minimal-stretch fabric, which meant they really didn't conform to her body much at all. If she didn't cinch them with a belt, they'd slip right down past her hipbones. And they were her only decent pair.

It was lucky that Jamie hadn't asked her to ride anything
earlier in the week. After the way he'd gotten after her for not eating and sleeping enough or whatever it was that time, she definitely didn't want him to notice she'd lost so much weight. He'd probably get the wrong idea, maybe force her to cut back on working and riding. And she definitely didn't want that.

As long as she wasn't actually showing, she'd been able to manage. She'd been wearing jeans while she worked, though even those were so loose that she'd put on a pair of leggings underneath despite the heat. But she couldn't ignore the problem any longer, not with less than thirty-six hours until that first class.

“Well, your loss is Tommi's gain, I guess,” Dani said, still looking dubious.

“Yeah, I guess.” Kate quickly slipped the bit into the gray's mouth, then did up the noseband and throatlatch. “I'd better get Moonie up to the ring. See you.”

“Sure you don't want to pop an Advil and come along?” Dani checked her makeup in the hotel room mirror, then grabbed her purse. She looked adorable in a V-neck cami and tight denim shorts, her henna-red hair swept back in a perky ponytail. Probably hoping some cute local guys might be hanging around the restaurant trolling for horse-show girls, Kate figured.

“Thanks, but I think my head'll feel better if I just get some sleep. I'm not that hungry anyway.” Kate adjusted the pillow behind her head.

“Okay. I'll try to remember to bring you something back in case you feel like eating later.”

“Thanks.” Kate waited until the other girl pulled the door of their shared hotel room shut behind her. Then she hopped to her feet and hurried over to her suitcase. She was running out of time to deal with her clothing emergency. This could be her best chance.

Pulling out her show breeches, she tossed them on the bed. Then she dug into her cosmetics bag for the little sewing kit that she always carried in there but hardly ever used. Actually, she wasn't sure she'd ever touched it aside from the little card of safety pins. But when she found it, she saw that it had what she needed—needles and thread, a seam ripper, even a tiny pair of scissors.

She grabbed it, flopped down on the bed with the breeches, then froze, wishing she'd paid more attention in home ec. Sure, she'd repaired the occasional hem on her clothes or patched a saddle pad. But nothing this elaborate. Could she really do this?

“Nat,” she whispered, suddenly realizing exactly where to turn for advice. Natalie loved clothes, and didn't have much more money to spend on them than Kate did. She was always ripping up anything that was too small or out of style and turning it into something else. Even claimed off and on that she wanted to be a fashion designer when she grew up. Some of her experiments turned out better than others, but at least she had the basics of sewing down pretty well. She'd know what to do if anyone would.

“What's up, Katie?” Nat said when she answered Kate's call. “You at your show or whatever?”

“Yeah.” Kate was glad that Natalie seemed to be in a good
mood. The two of them hadn't spoken since last weekend's Happy Acres show, but they'd texted back and forth a couple of times.

“Too bad—hot party tonight at Jackie's. Just waiting for my ride now. But hey, what do you need parties for these days? Speaking of which, how's that cute rich boyfriend of yours?”

Well, at least Fitz had been upgraded from just “rich” to cute
and
rich. Kate guessed that meant Nat had been impressed.

“Um, fine,” she said. “But listen, I need some sewing advice.”

“Some what?”

“I'm here at this show, and I need to, like, adjust the seam of my breeches,” Kate said, not wanting to get into too many details. “And it has to look good—they're kind of picky about that sort of thing here, and—”

“Yeah, I know.” Kate could almost hear Nat rolling her eyes over the phone. “Those rich snobs are all about looking good, right?”

Kate bit her lip, letting that pass. “Anyway, you're the best sewer I know. So what do I need to do to take these in without ruining them?”

“Ask Fitz to get one of his servants to do it?” Natalie laughed. “Seriously, Katie. That boy is smitten. It was totally obvious from the second I saw you two together.”

For once, Kate didn't mind her teasing. At least not too much. It showed that they were back—BFFs again. Making the effort to go to that schooling show had been worth it. Even if she'd had to bite her tongue the whole time about that poor confused Thoroughbred Nat was “training.”

“Okay, but what's plan B?” she asked. “I've got the seam
ripper and some scissors, but I'm sitting here panicking in case I take everything apart and can't get it back together.”

“Chill, it's not brain surgery,” Nat said. “Just use the seam ripper to slice through the threads. Usually you can pull it apart after a few rips to make it go faster.”