"Mima!" I yelled, trotting to my grandmother. I hopped off of Map and hugged her, Mima's long grey hair skimming my shoulders. My grandmother is short, 5.4, but you should see her ride! I didn't know she was competing, so it was a great surprise to see her. If Mima were a horse, she'd be a grey Welsh Pony, small but strong and non-quitting. Last year, she had all blue in jumping on her Arabian mare, Daisy. Daisy's a beautiful Palomino mare, with rare blue eyes and a slight dappling on her flanks. "I have something to show you," Mima said, eyes sparkling. She led me (and Map) through the crowd of horses and people. An Andalusian stallion with a red ribbon in his tail tried to bite Map, but I somehow pulled her away from him. I knew they'd use the sorrel horse for the bucking contest. I followed Mima to stable 47, where I pet Daisy. "Hey, girl," I cooed. Daisy nickered and stretched out her head to eat my hair. That's Daisy's only fault; She thinks hair is hay! I looked down the row at the other horses. In the stable next to Daisy's, a bay Lusitano filly caught my eye. She had the most gorgeous conformation, and her ears were swiveled and alert. I like the curious, friendly glimmer in her deep brown eyes. Her black mane was curly and pointed every-which-way. I could tell she was only about 7 months old. There wasn't a nameplate on her stall. I turned to Mima. "That Lusitano is amazing! Funny, she doesn't have a nameplate!" Mima grinned playfully. "Read the plate again, Cris." So I looked. There wasn't a name, only a MARISOL ROGERS on the bottom. I gasped. "She's yours!" Mima nodded and smiled. "I thought I'd leave the naming to you!" I grinned happily and thought. And thought. And thought. Lizzy? No, that would be a name for a Lippizan. Bella? Sounds like a dog! Ace? Nope, my Irish Setter dog is named Ace! Luciana? Hey, wait a sec. Luciana is PERFECT for a Lusitano. "Luciana?" I asked hopefully. Mima grinned. "I was actually thinking the same thing!" We laugh. Mima-Cris jinx!! I glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped. "I have to get Pal ready for advanced jumping!" I remembered. Mima said, "In that case, I'll help you." I tilted my head. "Aren't you entering advanced?" To my relief (and sadness) Mima shook her head. "No. Daisy's getting to old for jumping. I am, however, jumping her in beginner." Soon we were walking to Pal's stall to tack him. "I've already groomed him," I explained when Mima grabbed a curry and dandy. "Before Map's racing." We set the black jumping saddle onto his back. A jumping saddle is like an all-purpose English saddle, but it has padded knee rolls and shorter stirrups. After buckling the throatlatch, Mima gave me a leg up and I settled in the saddle. I posted to Pal's high-stepping trot to the arena. An Andalusian gelding was up first. He cleared the first three-foot jumps perfectly. He clipped the five foot jump though, sending a purple-striped pole flying. A six-footer stood at the end of the course. BOE judges let you decide if you want to jump it. If you do, that's an extra ten points. I knew I would jump Pal over that; He's 16.7 hh! Pal trotted up to the two-foot. He landed in a canter, like the jump was just his transition. We cantered past the four-foot jumps. Now came the hard part. Five three-footers were lined up in front of me, each one eight feet apart. Pal had to jump each one without breaking stride. We crossed them easily, though, from years of cross-pole-lines and cavaletti practicing. We cantered to the six-foot jump.
Everything was in slow motion.
I could feel Pal's hooves jarring into the arena's sawdust.
"Up and over!!" The loudspeaker snapped me back to reality. We'd made it! Cheers and claps surrounded me. I galloped over to the queue and watched the rest of the jumpers. 47 more. I watched for about two hours before the loudspeaker announced the winners.
"In fifth place....Michael Peterson on his Andalusian gelding, Dapple!"
"In fourth place is....Angela Johnson on her Quarter Horse mare, Penny!"
"In third place....Jane Edwards on her Dutch Warmblood gelding, Philadelphia!"
A huge group of about fifty people cheered loudly for Philadelphia. "Philly! Philly! Philly!" The chant thundered through the arena.
"In second....Maggie Rogers on her Quarter Horse gelding, Carrots!"
Wait, what?
I looked up to see Mom accepting the ribbon. Carrots, a red roan, stood next to her. Mom grinned broadly at the announcer as he handed her the ribbon. "In first place is the youngest jumper to ever compete in advanced at BOE!"
My heart started pounding. Who knows-maybe there's a nine-year-old jumper in that huge crowd of contestants.
"In first place is...The amazing Cristal Rogers on her 16 h.h mixed breed gelding, Pal!"
YES! I had actually BEATEN the Maggie Rogers! I still couldn't take in what had happened as I stepped up to receive my ginormous blue ribbon, along with a brightly-colored red, white, and pink rosette for Pal. Mom grinned over to me.
"Good job, horsewoman."
YOU ARE READING
Horsewoman Book 1: Best Of Equitation
AléatoireCristal Rogers is a twelve-year-old girl living in the hills of Wyoming. She loves anything with horses, and has eight of them. Join her as she competes in a national horse show, trains her new filly, Skye, and finds an abused horse she passionatel...
