Read The Prize Online

Authors: Stacy Gregg

The Prize (16 page)

Chapter Sixteen

D
ominic Blackwell wasn't a man to admit when he was wrong. Certainly he would never have actually swallowed his pride and apologised to anyone – especially a lowly groom. All the same, he had to concede that he regretted firing Georgie Parker.

Without his head girl, his Sunday morning at the Kentucky Horse Park had been a disaster.

Kennedy Kirkwood had proved herself to be one hundred percent useless as a groom. She had failed to plait a single mane, didn't know how to put studs in a horse shoe, couldn't attach a martingale properly and not once but twice she tacked up entirely the wrong horse so that Dominic had been forced to withdraw from his classes.

If it weren't for the fact that Kennedy Kirkwood's stepmother had promised him sponsorship he would have fired her ten times by now.

Of all the useless girls he'd had through the Blackwell stables she was without a doubt the worst he'd ever endured.

Not a patch on Georgie.
He thought with annoyance. Georgie had been the best groom he'd ever had – able to anticipate his every need, and a good little rider to boot. He'd trusted her to warm his horses up for him – something that he had never truly done with the others. And how did she repay him? By running off to watch her boyfriend ride a race – just when he needed her! Well, he would teach her a thing or two about loyalty. That girl would be receiving a big, fat F on her end-of-term assessment papers when he filled them in tomorrow.

The warm feeling of revenge cheered Dominic Blackwell up a little and he even managed a smile as he climbed down the stairs of the horse truck.

“How much time do we have?” he asked Kennedy.

Kennedy looked up from bandaging Cardinal's legs. “Until what?”

Blackwell's good humour disappeared instantly. “Until… I… am… due… in… the… ring… you… clot!” He ground the words out through gritted teeth.

“No need to get grumpy at me,” Kennedy sniffed. “You can read a programme, can't you? Why don't you figure out when you're supposed to be in there?”

If looks could kill, Blackwell would have murdered Kennedy on the spot. As it was, he decided that there was no point in engaging in a battle with the girl. All he had to do was get through the final class this afternoon. He would be riding all three of his best horses – Maximillion, Cardinal and Polaris – in the Mirror Jumping. His losing streak that morning had been depressing, but that was behind him now. Even Kennedy couldn't mess this up for him. Blackwell had done the studs, sorted the martingales himself and checked the tack. His three mounts were ready and waiting.

Dominic Blackwell intended to take out first, second and third place with the best times of the day. All he had to do was keep his mind on the task and try and survive with this twit of a groom for a few hours more.

Back in the horse truck he checked the schedule. The Mirror Jumping was about to begin in ten minutes. Blackwell had walked the course already, but since he wasn't due to ride for another half an hour he decided to watch the first round before he mounted up and began his warm-up.

As he ran down the steps of the truck he threw a glance at Kennedy who was struggling to bandage Maximillion's legs.

“I'll be riding Maximillion first,” he told her. “Bring him to me in ten minutes.”

“Shall I…” Kennedy began to speak but Dominic cut her off.

“No!” he said. “Just bring me my horse, OK? That's all I'm asking you to do – even you can't mess that up!”

The grandstand was totally packed that afternoon as the first two horses entered the arena.

“Welcome to Mirror Jumping here at the Lexington Kentucky Horse Park!” The announcer, Jilly Jones, told the crowd. “For those of you who have never seen this event before you are in for a treat. This is an open tournament where the jumps are set at a maximum height of a metre forty. As you can see, two courses have been set up: side-by-side mirror images of each other. Each rider will go into their own matching arena to jump-off against the clock and each other. The first to make it over the line with the least rails down wins their round. So let's welcome our first two competitors today: Penny Simpson on Rembrandt and Daniel Deans on Courtesan!”

In the arena, the two riders and their horses began to canter around and warm up, and then, on the judges orders, they lined up ready to begin. The bell rang and both horses sprang forward.

“Over the first fence and they are both neck-and-neck,” Jilly Jones told the crowds. “But look at Daniel Deans taking the lead! He is faster on the turn into fence number two and as they jump the third jump he's out in front of Penny. Oh dear! She's had a rail down at the third fence…”

On the sidelines, Dominic Blackwell watched the two riders in the ring with a technical eye. He saw every move they made – the way that Daniel Deans cut the corner at jump nine to shave another second off his time and still managed to fit in two strides in front of the jump, and the way Penny Simpson lost even more ground to him coming through the triple combination.

As he watched, Dominic Blackwell felt an unexpected pang of nerves. He had been so distracted by horse-shoe studs and martingales when he walked the course, he hadn't really been paying attention. He was ill-prepared for this round and instead of knowing the tricks and turns that would reduce his time, he would be riding this event today by the seat of his pants.

Nevermind,
he told himself,
Blackwell is the master of Mirror Jumping
.
Watching these two fumble around the course will be ample study for me.
The trick after the treble, Dominic decided, was to keep your horse reasonably straight to take the next jump, a green upright fence, and from there you needed to go around to the right of the orange jump and then you'd be lined up to take the last fence, a solid parallel, in a nice, clean three strides for a text book round.

He watched as Daniel Deans crossed the line ahead of his opponent by almost two seconds.

“Daniel's win puts him through to the scoreboard with one minute thirty-three,” the announcer said. “It will now be a matter of wait-and-see whether his time is good enough to put him in the final placings by the end of the competition.”

Kennedy stood holding Maximillion's reins when Dominic Blackwell returned.

“He's ready,” she insisted.

“We'll see about that!” Blackwell said, anxiously double-checking the tack before he mounted up and took his horse to the warm-up arena.

The Mirror Jumping was an open amateur class and Blackwell loathed having common riff-raff in the warm-up arena getting in his way. Still, he had to concede that this ‘wild-card' factor was a real crowd pleaser. Throwing in a few rough diamonds to compete against the slick professionals amused the spectators.

By God, this is a particularly motley assortment!
Blackwell thought as he trotted Maxi around and then pressed the stallion into a canter to pop him over the practice jump. There was one horse that he liked the look of – a very elegant bay that he glimpsed nearby. This horse seemed a cut above the rest and Blackwell was pleased when he saw the rider take the bay through towards the main arena. This was clearly his competition: the good-looking bay against his own handsome grey Maximillion. This would be a fitting spectacle for the crowds in the stands.

As he entered the arena behind the bay he looked at the rider. She wore a black jacket and black velvet hard hat and he could see a single blonde braid poking out beneath her helmet. There was something distinctly familiar about her. If only she would turn around so he could see her face…

“Let's give a big Kentucky Horse Park welcome to our next two competitors,” Jilly Jones' voice came crisp and clear over the Tannoy. “We've got a real wild-card on our hands here. A last-minute entry and she's got the toughest draw of the competition, facing one of the top riders in the whole country. So let's give a big Kentucky welcome to our next two riders – Grand Prix champion Dominic Blackwell on the mighty Maximillion, and our contender, Georgie Parker on the Blainford Academy mare Belladonna!”

In the arena, Georgie heard Belladonna's name being called over the Tannoy and felt an electric thrill run through her.

Riley and the others thought her plan was inspired, and of course they'd offered to help. They had returned to Blainford at dawn with the horse truck, and arrived at the Kentucky Horse Park early to place their last-minute entry in the Mirror Jumping.

Georgie knew the ropes from her years on the circuit with her mum. There would undoubtedly be a scratching today – there was always at least one rider who failed to turn up or had a lame horse. She'd put her name down as soon as the registration tent opened and sure enough, at midday when she went back to check, the course secretary informed her that she would be able to compete.

“There's just one thing,” the secretary had said and winced. “I hope this won't put you off, but the opening we've got is up against one of the most seasoned professionals in the competition. Dominic Blackwell's got three horses entered, so he dominates the line-up as you can imagine. Let me see… ah, yes. We've put you down to ride against him on his first horse of the day – Revel's Maximillion.”

Georgie felt the knot of nerves in her stomach grow tighter. This was exactly what she'd been hoping for. “Not a problem,” she said. “What time do I ride?”

For the rest of the day Georgie had managed to stay well clear of her former boss. Her focus had been on walking the course no less than three times so that she knew the jumps inside out and back to front. Meanwhile, Alice and Riley had prepared Belle, acting as her grooms and giving Georgie space to think about the task.

Now, in the arena at last, she was ready to go head-to-head with her rival.

As the two riders began to circle their horses around their matching arenas, Dominic Blackwell was openly glaring at Georgie. She could feel his stare burning through the back of her riding helmet as she cantered around to settle Belle into her stride. When they lined their horses up on identical start lines facing the grandstand Blackwell accosted her. “What the blazes are you doing here?” he growled.

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