Sea Horse (8 page)

That was it. Her falls weren’t her horses’ fault; they weren’t Frederica’s fault, or Jill’s, or anybody’s but her own. She’d been so insulted by Frederica’s doubt that she’d forgotten that horseback riding was work and required a rider’s total attention—especially a rider who was as relatively new to the sport as Lisa was.

“I
am
a good rider,” she said out loud. “But only when I do the things I’ve learned. When I forget all my lessons, I’m no better than the greenest beginner.”

Lisa had a painful moment remembering Jill’s snickering the evening before. No one had ever snickered about anything she’d done in her life. It had hurt. But the more she thought about it, the more she saw Jill’s point of view. To Jill, Lisa must have looked like a conceited jerk. She’d talked about all her lessons, her Pony Club, the gymkhana, the rodeo, her friends, and made herself look impressive, and then she’d managed to look like somebody who didn’t know which end of the horse ate hay!

Riders could be cruel to one another. Lisa had seen that from time to time. People who were good at riding didn’t tend to be tolerant of those who weren’t. Even The Saddle Club had indulged in occasional laughs at new riders’ expense. How could Lisa have expected Jill to react any differently from the way she did? Lisa had been riding like a fool. No wonder Jill had treated her badly.

She sat up in bed and looked at her clock. It was nine o’clock. Her parents had said they’d be playing tennis this morning. They would never notice if she went to the stable. For a second, Lisa thought uneasily of her mother’s reaction to her bruises. Then she remembered that her father had disagreed with her mother. She wasn’t actually forbidden to ride after all. But it was getting late. She’d have to hurry to get to the stable on time!

“A
H
, L
ISA
,
IS
it?” Frederica greeted her. “Do you want to ride with us again?”

Lisa had skipped breakfast and arrived at the stable a full half hour before the trail ride was set to begin. She was sure she’d need the extra time. She’d found Frederica in the stable, checking a gelding with a leg wrap. Lisa automatically reached up to hold the horse’s halter while Frederica examined the leg.

Lisa took a deep breath. She had the feeling it wouldn’t be easy to convince Frederica to let her come on the ride. After all, it hadn’t been easy to convince her the first time and she hadn’t done anything since then to
make herself seem a better candidate for a successful trail ride.

“I need to do this, Frederica,” she began. “See, I know I’m better than I’ve been showing you. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about my mistakes and they were bad ones. At first, I thought it was the horses’ fault, but it wasn’t. Then, I tried to convince myself it was something you were doing, or Jill, or almost anybody else. The fact is, I’ve gotten awfully used to riding on one kind of terrain and I forgot to adjust to another.”

She paused, expecting Frederica to argue with her, but Frederica was looking carefully at the leg for signs of reduced swelling.

“This leg is definitely getting better,” Frederica said at last.

Lisa had seen swollen legs like that many times in the past. “Are you using DMSO?” she asked. That was a drug she’d seen Judy and Max use many times on sore and swollen legs.

Frederica looked at her sharply. “You do know about horses, don’t you?”

“Not as much as I thought I knew the first day I arrived,” Lisa admitted.

Frederica nodded. “Yes, you could be right about that. Well, help me put the bandage back on and let’s talk about what we should do.”

While Frederica painted the affected leg with DMSO, Lisa rerolled the leg wrap so Frederica would be able to replace it.

“What’s been going wrong?” Frederica asked.

“I just haven’t been paying attention,” Lisa said. “Both times I fell, I wasn’t prepared for changes—once in direction, the second time in speed.”

“Did you get hurt? I mean
really.
And tell me the truth. I can’t let you ride if you’re not sound, any more than I could permit an unsound horse to go on the trail.”

Lisa understood that. It would be totally irresponsible to let somebody who wasn’t up to it physically go out on a trail.

“I’ve got a bruise on my hip that’s all kinds of reds and blues. My knee took a kick and my shoulder is sore. But nothing’s so sore I can’t ride.”

Frederica made Lisa show her the shoulder and knee bruises and agreed that they were certainly uncomfortable, but not disabling.

When Frederica was finished with the horse’s leg, she and Lisa went to the office to see who else was going to be on the ride and to see how they could make the experience safer for Lisa.

“Jill’s coming back, of course,” Frederica said, glancing at the list. “She rode yesterday, as well, and made some unkind remarks about you.”

“I deserved them,” Lisa said matter-of-factly. Frederica didn’t comment further.

“Okay, then, here’s what we’ll do,” she decided. “I’m going to put you on Jasper again. He can be slow, but he’s responsive.”

“I know,” Lisa said. “He’s gentle and doesn’t have much of a mind of his own.”

“Just so,” Frederica agreed. “I’m also going to put you in a Western saddle. Have you ridden Western?”

“Yes, I have,” Lisa said. “And that’s fine with me. This is sort of a comeback ride for me. I ride English most of the time, but a Western saddle will give me more support.”

“And something to hang on to if you need it,” Frederica added, referring to the Western saddle’s pommel, originally intended to hold a cowboy’s lariat. Greenhorns used it as a handle.

“I won’t need it,” Lisa said.

“I hope not,” Frederica told her. “But it’s there if you do.”

“Okay,” Lisa said.

She’d done it. She had convinced Frederica to let her ride again. At first, that had seemed like the only obstacle she’d have to overcome, but as she emerged from Frederica’s office, Lisa realized that it was the least of the problems she had to deal with.

There, standing patiently in the shade of a palm tree outside Frederica’s office, was Jasper, a Western saddle being placed on his back. He seemed as calm as he had been on the first day she’d seen him, munching on strands of grass, awaiting the inevitable daily trail rides he’d come to expect, and endure. That seemed to be the way Jasper felt, but it wasn’t the way Lisa felt. Suddenly, in a way she had never known before, she was terrified. Jasper was big, very big. He seemed like the biggest horse she’d ever seen. If she fell from him …

Jill’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Why, Lisa,
you’re back?” she said. “Are you going to sign up for the beginners’ ride?”

“No,” Lisa said calmly, “I’m going out on the intermediate ride again. That’s what I am—an intermediate rider.”

“Oh. I thought you were an
expert,
you know, the way you talked about your lessons and your club and everything.”

The scorn in Jill’s voice was unmistakable. Lisa had no choice but to confront it directly. “I guess that’s because I made it sound that way,” she admitted. “I’m not an expert. But I
am
an intermediate.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Jill asked.

“I guess so,” Lisa said.

Jill turned her back on Lisa and prepared to mount her horse. Lisa turned back to Jasper.

“Here, I’ll help you mount,” said Alain, the stableboy. Lisa knew he’d been sent over by Frederica and decided that she could probably use the help. The fact was, she was shaking so much she wasn’t sure she could get into the saddle without help.

F
REDERICA GAVE THE
signal and the horses began to move. Once again, Lisa was the second-to-last person in the ride. She was glad for that, because it meant only one person could see how badly she was shaking, and if she fell off, only one person would watch her do it.

She gripped the big saddle with her legs as tightly as she could. She held the reins with both hands, clutching the pommel of the saddle at the same time. The reins were quite loose, and she permitted Jasper to do pretty much what he wanted, following the horse in front of him. For now, that was okay with Lisa. If she didn’t have to tell him what to do, he couldn’t disagree with her.

She knew, beyond any doubt, that this was a bad way to ride. Carole and Stevie would be the first ones to tell her so, and Max would be yelling instructions at her so fast, it would be everything she could do to hear them,
much less follow them. Still, at that moment, she was doing the best she could, and that was enough.

“Prepare to trot!” Frederica called out. Lisa gulped. Trotting meant taking control of her horse. She couldn’t have Jasper going at a trot without having the reins work for her. Carefully, she tightened up on the reins, barely releasing her grip on the pommel. By the time Jasper began his lumbering trot, Lisa was holding the reins properly. She rose slightly in the saddle to post. Usually, she knew, riders didn’t post in a Western saddle, but Lisa felt more comfortable doing it, so she posted.

Posting, she found, was a good thing to do. Since it involved shifting her weight to match the rhythm of the horse’s trot, it helped to remind her about balance. She’d been so upset over her riding experiences the last few days, she’d forgotten how important balance could be. A balanced rider could do anything. An unbalanced rider was hopeless. Posting helped Lisa to find her own balance.

As they approached the beach, the horses slowed to a walk. Lisa found herself more relieved than she thought she had the right to be. Was she relieved that she’d actually made it through a trot? Not really, she decided. She was more relieved that she was finding she was enjoying the ride.

“Good work,” a man’s voice came from behind her. “You’re really a good rider, aren’t you?”

“Not really,” she said over her shoulder, wondering what Frederica had said to the poor man by way of preparation.

Frederica raised her hand. “Prepare to canter!” she called out.

In spite of her earlier promises not to touch it, Lisa gripped the pommel so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

The horse in front of her picked up his pace to a trot and then to a canter. Jasper, trotting willingly, strained at his bit. He was ready to go. Lisa continued to hold the reins taut. Her horse might be ready, but she wasn’t sure she was.

She heard the rider behind her cluck to his horse, urging him to a canter. She couldn’t keep him back. She had to get going. Jasper trotted faster. His smooth trot was a very nice gait. She could even sit it, but for how long? She couldn’t really go on for the rest of her life pretending she was cantering when she was actually trotting.

Her foot slid back on Jasper’s belly, touching him behind the girth. At the same time her hands gripped the pommel more tightly, if that was possible.

Jasper responded immediately to her signal, rocking his head and changing his gait to a canter. Lisa gripped the horse firmly with her legs, but didn’t hold him in the viselike grip she’d used on her last ride. She had to hold her legs steady, and the best way to do that was to hold her horse firmly. She loosened the reins, letting Jasper know that what he was doing was right.

Lisa looked forward. The trail followed the curve of the beach, and the horses splashed in the shallow tongues of surf. It was much easier for horses to canter on
the wet section of the beach than on the dry sand, where their hooves sank into the softer footing. Jasper seemed to appreciate it. In fact, Jasper seemed to love it, almost coming to life on the beach. Lisa could feel his speed under her, but, thankfully, she didn’t feel out of control. She moved one of her fingers on the right rein ever so slightly and Jasper immediately flicked his right ear to her. It was a sure sign that he was paying attention to her. At the same time, he clearly loved his canter by the sea. She smiled to herself. Jasper was a real sea horse. Now, she realized, since he was letting her take charge, she had to be worthy of his trust.

She sat deeply in the saddle, sliding forward and back easily with the one-two-three beat of Jasper’s canter. Like most horses’ canters, it had the feel of a rocking chair—moving fast, of course. Lisa looked up ahead and watched where Frederica swung her horse to the left to the part of the trail that led into the wooded area. It was the scene of Lisa’s first tumble. The other horses on the trail ride followed. So did Jasper, when Lisa signaled him.

The horses slowed to a walk. Lisa felt relief, but there was more than that. She also felt comfortable. She was in the saddle of a gentle, responsive horse, riding through what surely had to be one of the prettiest trails in the world. She began to relax and enjoy herself.

Frederica led the riders up the curvy trail that snaked up to the hilltop. On the straightaway they cantered again, this time through the open field up toward the promontory. Now that Lisa knew something about the formation of the island, she had a better understanding of
what the promontory was. It was a piece of land built up from the center of the island by a volcano, and cut back at the island’s edge by the sea. She and her parents had seen several more of them on their trip with Ben. There was something about being on horseback, between the work of a volcano and the work of the ocean, that made Lisa feel very close to the heart of San Marco. She liked the feeling. Once again, she noticed Jill shy away from the promontory. Jill definitely didn’t like heights.