The a Circuit (2 page)

“Thanks, Miss Nilsen.”

“Kate,” Kate corrected with a smile. “I keep telling you, Javier. You should call me Kate.”

The young guy smiled back tentatively. He was the newest groom on the staff, and while he was a whiz with the horses, he didn’t seem completely comfortable dealing with the customers yet. Or even Kate, who was really more coworker than customer.

“Okay,” he said. “See you later.”

He hurried out of the barn leading the big, flea-bitten gray gelding that Kate had just finished grooming and tacking. As they disappeared out the end of the aisle, Kate checked her watch. Javier and the horse should make it up to the hunter ring in plenty of time to meet Jamie, who was probably going over the Adult Amateur Hunter course with the horse’s owner right now. Not that that should be necessary. Most hunter courses were so simple that the horses probably knew them by heart. Outside, diagonal, outside, diagonal. It was amazing how many of Jamie’s clients had trouble remembering that, making Kate wonder how they managed to hold down their mentally demanding jobs as attorneys or surgeons or research scientists or whatever.

Kate tightened the band on her blond ponytail as she looked around for her next task. Jamie liked to tell everyone that Kate put the
working
in working student. He counted on her to help him and the grooms keep things running according to his exacting standards, both at home at Pelham Lane Stables, his top Westchester County show barn, and at the A circuit shows he and his clients attended up and down the East Coast.

But as far as Kate was concerned, she could never work hard enough to pay Jamie back for all he’d given her. He was the best trainer and mentor she could ever hope for. No, more than that—he’d changed her life.

Kate had loved horses since she knew what one was, but her dad’s modest salary as a local cop meant that her parents hadn’t been able to afford to do much about it. That hadn’t stopped her. She’d saved up her tiny allowance, along with birthday cash from relatives, to pay for her first few rides at a local up-down lesson mill. After that she’d been hooked. She’d paid for extra saddle time with odd jobs and mucking stalls and babysitting, and was always first to offer to ride anything with four legs. But even back then, stinking of manure and banged up from schooling the latest half-broke auction-special-cum-lesson pony, she was always dreaming of more.

Then at age fourteen a friend’s parents had invited her to come along to spectate at the Hampton Classic. It was by far the biggest, fanciest horse show Kate had ever attended, and she’d been awed by the gleaming, gorgeous horses and perfectly turned out riders—just like the ones in the books and magazines she devoured at the school library. Her friend’s family had been more interested in shopping and eating than actually watching the horses, and Kate had ended up wandering off by herself.

She’d recognized Jamie from seeing his picture in all the horse-showing magazines. He was standing at one of the schooling rings watching his riders warm up. It had taken every ounce of courage she had, but she’d walked up to him, introduced herself, and asked for the chance to prove to him that she could ride. He’d looked her over for a long, silent minute with those keen blue eyes of his, then tossed her up on a horse to see what she could do. She’d been at his barn ever since, trading hours and hours (and hours) of hard work, early mornings and late nights and no social life, for the chance to ride and train with the best.

And Jamie
was
the best—everyone said so. Sometimes Kate wanted to pinch herself to see if she was really here, showing under Pelham Lane’s colors. Except that stopping to pinch herself would take up valuable time that could be spent lungeing a frisky horse or scrubbing water buckets or cleaning tack or …

As much as Kate loved every aspect of her job, it sometimes seemed there was no end to what needed to be done. Especially on show days. To her surprise, though, Javier’s departure had left the shed row deserted, the only sounds the distant crackle of the loudspeaker and the horses chewing hay in their stalls.

Kate’s stomach grumbled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten a thing since the dry toast she’d grabbed on her way out of the hotel at o’dark-thirty that morning. She headed into the tack stall, which was draped in Jamie’s clean and classic hunter green and tan barn colors. Matching tack trunks lined up neatly beneath tidy saddle racks; ribbons won by Jamie’s clients hung on the back wall. One of the longtime grooms, Elliot, had a real green thumb, and an array of lush ferns and other potted plants finished off the tack stall’s elegant look.

Noticing that the wood chips covering the floor were uneven from people walking in and out, Kate grabbed a rake and smoothed out the rough spots until it was perfect again. Only then did she dig a granola bar out of her bag, which she’d stowed in the bottom of the staff trunk.

She sank down onto one of the leather director’s chairs in the middle of the stall. A moment later she heard a soft grunt and glanced up just in time to see Jamie’s elderly English bulldog, Chaucer, lumber in. Jamie always had several dogs roaming around at home, but Chaucer was the only one of the pack who came to all the shows.

“How you doing, buddy?” Kate said with a smile, leaning down to give the bulldog a pat on his broad head. “Let me guess, you’re sniffing around to see if the horses dropped any food in the aisle, right?”

At the word “food,” Chaucer’s mouth dropped open in a doggie grin, allowing a trail of drool to escape. He wagged his stubby tail, his round haunches wriggling back and forth.

Kate laughed. “How can I resist that face?” She broke off part of her granola bar and leaned down so he could slime it off her palm.

“Hello? Anyone around?” a familiar voice called from out in the aisle.

“Tommi? In here!” Kate took a quick bite, then tossed the rest of the granola bar into Chaucer’s eager, drooling mouth. She hurried outside, brushing her hands off on her breeches.

Tommi was a few stalls down, clipping a lead rope onto the halter of a bay mare. Her chin strap was loose and her jacket unbuttoned, but her brown hair was still tidily smoothed over her ears and under her helmet and she looked picture-perfect as always. Kate wasn’t sure how her friend did it. She herself always seemed to end up with hay in her hair and horse slobber on her shirt the second she stepped into the barn.

Tommi glanced over when she heard Kate emerge. “Hi,” she said. “Where is everybody?”

“Javier just took Mrs. Walsh’s horse to the ring, and I’m not sure about the rest,” Kate said. “How’d it go with Toccata?”

Tommi grimaced. “Could have been better.”

Kate nodded, not asking any questions. Tommi came across as pretty laid-back most of the time, but she was the most competitive person Kate had ever met. That was one of the reasons they were such good friends despite their wildly different backgrounds. They both expected a lot of themselves.

“Did Jamie say anything to you about someone looking at Ellie today?” Tommi asked. “He wants me to ride her.”

“Yeah, he said someone might be coming by,” Kate said. “But why’s he making you ride her? I figured he’d have me do it. Don’t you need to start warming up for the High Juniors pretty soon?”

Tommi shrugged. “You know Jamie. He didn’t stick around to give me all the details.”

Kate nodded. “Bring her out,” she said. “I’ll help you get her ready.”

TWO

Ellie’s show name was Eleganz, and it suited her. The mare’s graceful neck was arched and she was on her toes as Tommi led her out of the stall. Even her jigging looked smooth and stylish; it was no wonder she’d won nearly every hack she’d ever entered. Tommi murmured to her to keep her calm—Ellie was sensitive and still a little green—and soon had her in the nearest set of cross-ties.

Kate had vanished, but soon reappeared with her arms full of tack and a grooming bucket dangling from one wrist. The mare was nearly spotless already, but Tommi knew Jamie would expect perfection.

“Hand me a rag,” she said. “I’ll do this side.”

Soon both girls were busy knocking every speck of dust off the mare’s already-gleaming bay coat. “I wonder who’s looking at Ellie,” Kate said as she worked. “I thought Jamie wanted to put a few more miles on her before he sold her.”

“I’m not surprised people noticed her after Devon,” Tommi said. “She was amazing there.”

She heard a sharp bark from the end of the aisle. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Summer Campbell strolling toward them with her obnoxious Jack Russell terrier, Whiskey, cradled in her arms and nipping at the sleeve of her Joules polo shirt. Great. Summer was exactly what they
didn’t
need when they were already in a hurry. She was fifteen, just a year younger than Kate and two years younger than Tommi, but somehow dealing with her always felt like babysitting.

“Hi, Tommi,” Summer said with a saccharine-sweet smile. “I like your jacket. That color looks sensational on you. It must be one of the new Grand Prixes, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Summer annoyed Tommi for many reasons, not least because the modest fortune her parents had made in the textile business seemed to make her think she needed to live up to every single snobby-hunter-princess stereotype out there. She spent more time arranging her picture-perfect hunter hair than she did warming up her horses, and cared much more about the labels on her fellow competitors’ breeches and show shirts than how well they rode.

Summer turned her milky blue eyes toward Ellie, who had settled down once she was in the ties, seeming to enjoy the extra pampering. “What are you guys doing?” Summer asked. “Who’s riding Ellie today? Is Jamie letting you show her, Tommi? Are you going to buy her?”

Tommi didn’t bother to point out that while she rode the mare at home sometimes, she’d never shown her. In fact, the only one who had besides Jamie himself was Kate—but it would never even occur to Summer to ask if
she
was showing the mare. She always seemed surprised when Kate turned up in the ring showing a horse for Jamie or one of his clients, as if she couldn’t possibly be good enough without owning her own horse or even the full rainbow of the latest Essex show shirt colors.

“Someone’s trying her out to buy,” Kate told Summer as she undid Ellie’s tail wrap.

“Oh.” Summer stood there watching her work. After a moment Whiskey started wriggling and yipping, so she set him down.

“Hey, watch it,” Tommi warned as the dog immediately dashed toward Ellie. “He’ll get stepped on.”

“Oh, he’s fine. Horses love him.” Summer ignored her dog as the little beast scampered beneath the mare’s legs to reach the grooming bucket. He bit at a sweat scraper that was poking out, growling and yanking at it so hard that he tipped over the whole bucket.

Ellie jumped at the noise, even though she’d been ignoring the dog so far, and started dancing in the ties. Tommi cursed softly, grabbing a bottle of hoof dressing a split second before the mare would have stepped on it, while Kate went to Ellie’s head, talking to her softly to calm her down.

“Aren’t you going to finish her tail?” Summer asked, seeming completely unaware of the chaos her dog was causing. “It looks kind of weird—you need to brush it out.”

Tommi glanced around for Whiskey, but he’d disappeared—probably into the tack stall to nose around for food or poop in the wood chips. She had no idea why Jamie didn’t put his foot down about the ill-behaved little beast. Summer was supposed to keep the dog on a leash if she brought him to shows, but she never bothered unless Jamie himself said something to her—and even then, the leash came off again as soon as the trainer was out of sight.

“I’ll get the tail,” Tommi said to Kate, ignoring Summer. “We’d better hurry—I want to have time for a good warm-up. You know how Ellie is.”

“Yeah.” Kate had already finished picking up the spilled grooming supplies. She turned and grabbed a freshly laundered fleece pad from the pile of tack.

“That looks crooked,” Summer spoke up as Kate set the pad on the mare’s back. “It needs to come this way a little.”

“Thanks,” Kate said, tweaking the pad slightly.

Tommi rolled her eyes. It wasn’t as if Kate wouldn’t have straightened the pad when she put the saddle on.

“There’s a stain on that saddle,” Summer commented as Kate swung Tommi’s spare County saddle onto Ellie. “Haven’t you cleaned it lately, Kate?”

“It’s not a stain, it’s a stirrup rub,” Tommi said. “It won’t show when I’m riding.”

“Oh! That’s good.” Summer smiled. “Is that your saddle, Tommi? It’s really nice. If I decide to sell my Butet I might get one just like it.” Then she glanced at Kate, who was getting ready to put on the girth. “Be careful not to tighten her girth too fast,” she said. “Mares can be touchy about that, you know.”

“Hmm,” Kate said noncommittally.

Tommi gritted her teeth. Kate was pretty good at ignoring people like Summer—she had to be, to work for Jamie. But while Tommi had endless patience for horses, she didn’t have nearly as much for people. It was tempting to tell Summer off when she started criticizing Kate, who knew more about cleaning tack—and everything else about riding—than Summer ever would.

But she didn’t do it. For one thing, she doubted Summer would pay any attention. More importantly, she knew Kate wouldn’t like it. She preferred to keep a low profile, to the point that Tommi sometimes worried that she was turning herself into a doormat, especially where some of Jamie’s bossier and lazier clients were concerned. Tommi just didn’t get that. How could Kate be gutsy enough to ride the hottest, rankest, greenest horses that came through the barn, but not be willing to stand up for herself with her fellow humans?

A sudden bark from the next aisle broke Tommi out of her thoughts. It was immediately followed by a torrent of loud swearing, including some particularly colorful phrases that Tommi hadn’t heard before.

“Sounds like Whiskey found Margie,” she murmured to Kate.

A moment later a woman came storming around the corner. She was in her thirties, dressed in show breeches, purple Crocs, and a stained New York Mets T-shirt.

She pointed straight at Summer. “You!” she said in a voice that probably carried halfway to Connecticut. “That obnoxious little rat you call a dog is trying to get squashed by my horse, and I really don’t want to have to clean him out of her hooves. Go get him. Now!”

Margie O’Donnell was one of Jamie’s adult clients. She was also the youngest partner in one of the biggest law firms in New York. She had a mouth like a sailor and the self-confidence of a pit bull. Nobody messed with her. Not even Summer.

“Sorry!” Summer squeaked out, rushing down the aisle. “I guess he, um, got away from me.”

“Uh-oh,” Tommi said as the other girl disappeared around the corner. “Now who’s going to tell us how to tack up?”

Margie snorted and rolled her eyes before stalking off after Summer. Kate giggled as she tightened Ellie’s girth another hole.

“I think we’re almost ready,” she said, giving the mare a pat.

“I’ll grab the bridle.” Tommi was already moving toward the tack room. “We’d better get going.”

“Looks like Jamie’s not here yet,” Tommi said as she, Kate, and Ellie reached the schooling ring.

Kate nodded, hardly hearing her. This was the smallest and most out-of-the-way ring at this particular facility, which was probably why Jamie had chosen it. At the moment it had only two occupants. One was a regal-looking woman in her fifties, who was warming up a handsome Roman-nosed chestnut gelding while the assistant trainer from another local barn perched on the rail and watched.

But Kate hardly saw them. She had eyes only for the second rider, a lanky seventeen-year-old guy on a huge gray horse. The shock of reddish-blond hair sticking out from beneath his helmet gave away his identity, but Kate would have recognized him just by the way he rode. All fearlessness and raw grace. There were several schooling jumps set up in the ring, and she caught her breath as the rider kicked the horse into a gallop and aimed him at a 3’9“ vertical at a sharp angle. The horse threw its head up and tried to veer around the jump, but the rider held him on the line and they leaped over, clearing the fence by several inches. When the horse landed, it threw in a dramatic buck and snort, but the rider just laughed, riding through the buck effortlessly and then giving his horse a pat.

“Yo, Fitz!” Tommi called as the gray loped past. “You hoping a little extra schooling might actually help you beat me in the Junior Jumpers today?”

The guy brought the horse to a walk and rode over to the rail. “Keep up the trash talk, Aaronson,” he said with a grin. “Maybe someday you’ll be able to back it up in the ring.” Then he caught Kate staring at him. “Hey, gorgeous,” he added. “How’d you like my form?”

Kate blushed. “Chipotle is looking good,” she muttered, a little flustered by the way his amused hazel eyes grabbed her own.

Still, she knew better than to take his flirting seriously. Fitzmartin Hall, better known as Fitz, was the only male junior rider at Jamie’s barn these days, which made him a hot commodity among the female juniors. It helped that he was tall and charmingly sardonic and that his family had more money than God. Fitz could have just about any girl he wanted, and based on barn gossip, he did. Frequently. Kate knew a guy like that was way more than she could handle. She’d barely ever even had a boyfriend—she’d always been too busy with horses to have much time left over for guys.

“Have you heard how our division’s going?” Tommi asked Fitz.

“Yeah, just got a text from Marissa. A bunch of people scratched when they got a look at the course, I guess, so things are actually running almost on time.”

“Really?” Tommi checked her watch, then glanced at Kate. “Wow, I wonder if Jamie knew that when he asked me to ride Ellie. I guess he can always switch me around in the order of go.”

Kate was a little distracted by watching Fitz swing down out of the saddle. Most guys looked kind of dorky in breeches, but somehow they worked on him. Really well, actually.

“Um, what?” she said, suddenly catching up.

“Or maybe you should hop on and warm her up.” Tommi gave a tug on the reins as Ellie jigged in place. “That’s probably what Jamie would tell us to do, right? I mean, you’ve ridden Ellie way more than I have anyway.”

Kate glanced down at herself. She hadn’t had time to change out of her show breeches after her last class earlier, but had taken off her jacket and shirt collar and traded her tall boots for well-worn paddock boots. “Yeah, except I’m not really dressed to ride for a customer,” she pointed out.

“Are you kidding? The casual look is totally sexy on you, Kate,” Fitz told her. “Like you’re not trying too hard to impress anyone because you know you’re hot shit.”

“Give it a rest already, Fitz.” Tommi shrugged off her show jacket and held it out to Kate. “Here, put this on. The sleeves’ll be a little short, but it’ll do.”

Kate took the jacket gingerly, suddenly way too aware that it had probably cost more than her car.
Literally.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked. She and Tommi were close, but they didn’t normally share clothes. Why would they? They were both slim, but Kate was a good five inches taller. Besides, Kate didn’t own anything that someone like Tommi would ever want to wear. Slumming it in Walmart couture wasn’t exactly her style.

“Don’t be stupid. It’s a lot easier than running back to the barn for yours,” Tommi said.

Still hesitant, Kate pulled on the jacket. The expensive fabric slipped over her shirt and draped into place. The sleeves were indeed too short, but the rest fit reasonably well.

“Much better.” Tommi smiled as she looked her over. “And nobody will care that much about your boots. They’re here to see Ellie.”