Nothing But Horses by Shannon Kennedy Page A

bolted or spooked? Hang on, this was
Luchenbach. She hadn’t done either in years. The class moved on
toward the mounting benches.
    Vicky was one of the first up on Summertime.
She rode up to the far end of the arena, Autumn behind her on
Dream. They immediately began leading exercises while the next two
riders, Robin and Dani swung into their saddles. The other students
continued the routine until it was my turn.
    I led Nevada next to the bench. Mom stepped
up and held the right rein and my off stirrup. “What’s up? I can do
this by myself.”
    “Humor me. I’m your mother and he’s doing his
horse-show crap.”
    “Okay.” I swung up and settled into the
saddle. I slid my feet into the stirrups and collected on the
reins. “I’m ready.”
    “Good. Stay put until Dave is too.”
    I looked behind me and watched him vault up
onto Luke’s wide back. He nodded at me. I reined Nevada toward the
rest of the horses and he moved forward at a medium walk like he’d
been doing it for years. Talk about a real comedian.
    We went through the warm-up of start, stop
and turn circles faster than what the beginners could. After that,
we rode on the left track, then the right. We lined up for games.
Vicky held Summertime down to a slow trot which meant Autumn was
the first across the finish line. When it finally got to my turn, I
was against Dave. He would do the barrels while I weaved the candy
canes.
    Mom went over and coached him through the
introduction and how to play his game. He added something nobody
else heard, but she smiled in a way that I’d never seen her do
before. And I’d watched a ton of guys flirt with her over the
years. Dave must have a pretty special line.
    I’d undoubtedly hear about it later when she
shared with my grandmother, so I kept my mind on Nevada.
    He snorted at the red and white plastic
canes. If I’d been down here by myself, I’d have nailed him either
with my legs or the romal for his snarky attitude, but I didn’t
dare. Like Grandpa said, “beginners and horses can always learn a
lesson in mean, so be careful what you teach,” and I wasn’t setting
a bad example.
    I reached down to pet Nevada’s red neck. “Hi,
I’m Sierra and this is the best horse at Shamrock Stable, Nevada
von Puke-stick.”
    The audience laughed and I smoothed my
horse’s golden mane. “We’re playing Candy Cane Lane. We’re going to
weave through the canes three times and beat Nevada’s mommy to the
North Pole.”
    I hoped it would be as easy as I made it
sound. Dave rode up to the first barrel and I sent Nevada after him
and Luchenbach. Granted, we were side by side, not directly behind
her and this time my horse focused on the job, not on acting scared
of the horsy props. I used my seat to ask for a collected trot and
Nevada flicked his ears. Then, he jogged a couple of steps.
    He wound through the canes, left, right,
left, until we reached the far end of the line. We went around the
end, then began weaving back. I noticed Dave mirrored us and
wondered just what he had in mind. He was only supposed to go
through the barrels once, but he went around the last one and
didn’t cross the finish line. Instead, he rode through the row of
barrels again while Nevada and I went back up the candy canes
again.
    We made the last turn and I signaled for a
trot. Nevada picked it up and jogged home beside his mom. We
crossed the finish line and stopped at the same time. Lots of
applause and Mom came over to me. She patted my knee. “Nice
ride.”
    “What are you going to do about Dave’s time?”
I whispered. “He didn’t play the game the right way. He should have
just weaved the barrels one time.”
    Mom smiled and rested a hand on Nevada’s
neck. “Oh, I’ll exercise some judge’s discretion and give him a
special prize.”
    “Okay, as long as you don’t penalize him.
He’s never been to one of our parties before.”
    “I’ll be fair,” Mom promised. “Now, let’s
wind this up so we can have lunch.