Moonlight Mile by Catherine Hapka Page A

around. “Oh!” Gramma Rose cried. “Nina, are you all right?”
    â€œI’m fine.” Nina gave her pony a nudge to turn him back toward her family. “Breezy’s just a little excited, that’s all.”
    â€œOh, dear.” Her grandmother looked worried. “I hope you’ll be safe out there, Nina.”
    â€œDon’t worry about me.” Nina smiled. “Breezy will take care of me.”
    â€œYeah, relax, Gramma,” DeeDee put in. “Nina’s a pro at this riding stuff.”
    â€œHmm.” Gramma Rose looked unconvinced, though she reached up to give the pony a careful nose rub.
    â€œAnyway, I should probably finish my warm-up now,” Nina said. “And you guys should find seats. I think my first class starts soon.”
    â€œAll right.” Her father reached over the fence to pat Nina’s leg. “We’ll be cheering you on, Boo.”
    â€œThanks.” As her family hurried off, Nina gave Breezy a little kick to get him moving again. “Oops,” she said as he sprang into motion, this time breaking into a brisk trot. Deciding to go with it, Nina closed her legs against his side, steering him into the flow of traffic as his stride lengthened.
    After a moment she passed Jordan, which made her think about Brett again. She glanced out toward the seating area, wondering where he was and if he was watching her right now.
    What? Why would he be watching me? she chided herself. Stupid!
    Still, her eyes swept the crowd. Her family was easy to spot, moving as a large, boisterous group toward a freesection of seats. She also spotted Trinity’s red cloud of hair. But she didn’t see Brett anywhere. . . .
    â€œWhoops!” she blurted out as Breezy made a sudden turn to one side to avoid a horse that had stopped just ahead of them.
    Both of Nina’s feet slipped out of the stirrups at the unexpected move, and she clung on with her legs to keep her balance. Taking the squeeze as a request to go faster, Breezy broke into a canter.
    â€œWhoa, baby,” Nina said. Luckily she’d kept her grip on the reins, and she tightened them to slow her pony. “Trot—now walk.”
    Breezy obeyed, and Nina was able to get her stirrups back. She glanced around, hoping nobody had noticed her wobble. Lemons into lemonade, she told herself, smiling at the thought of her grandfather’s favorite saying. A little embarrassing, but a good reminder to pay attention.

    â€œHere we go,” Nina whispered, feeling a flutter of excitement deep in her gut. She and Breezy had just stepped into the main ring for their first jumping class. The show wasbeing run as a hunter competition. Each division consisted of four classes—three jumping rounds and a group flat class. This first round was meant to start things off easy. The jumps were lower than those Nina had been practicing in lessons lately, and the course was simple and inviting, with no sharp turns or tricky distances.
    We’ve so got this, she thought as she nudged her pony into a canter. Breezy could do a course like this in his sleep! In fact, half the time I think he does!
    She almost giggled at the image of Breezy snoozing as he cantered over a jump. But she swallowed her laughter and reminded herself to focus.
    They completed their opening circle, then headed toward the first obstacle, a small vertical decorated with cypress branches. Breezy pricked his ears at it a few strides out, but his steady canter never faltered. He met the jump in stride, sailing over easily, and Nina grinned. This was fun!
    The next two jumps went just as well. Breezy landed on the correct canter lead and loped around the turn, and Nina glanced over her shoulder toward the next line. As she did, something outside the ring caught the corner ofher eye, just for a split second: a flash of movement, the flutter of something ghost-gray and wispy, like a tattered sleeve . . . For just that