Chosen by Jessica Burkhart Read Free Book Online

jumper as Brielle—clean and careful. He drew his forelegs close to his chest with every jump and tucked his hind legs so his hooves wouldn’t nick the rails.
    The pair jumped two more verticals—each increasingly closer together—then turned back toward the beginning of the course to take an oxer. Brielle’s timing was perfect—she knew just when to lift her body slightly out of the saddle. Her hands slid a few inches up Zane’s neck. She gave him the rein he needed to take the oxer.
    The other girls seemed as enraptured with Brielle’s ride as I. Her black hair, having been taken down from itsponytail, streamed out behind her beneath her helmet like a silken, ebony flag. There wasn’t a trace of bounce in her seat as she and Zane landed after each jump.
    Kim clicked the stop button on the digital stopwatch in her hand as Brielle finished the last jump.
    Brielle, smiling, patted Zane’s shoulder as she slowed him. She stopped him beside us, looking to Kim for feedback.
    â€œWell done,” Kim said. “Your timing is impeccable. Zane was in control the entire time and your focus is remarkable. One thing to watch: your shoulders. They tend to creep up toward your ears after you come out of the two-point position.”
    â€œI felt that happening.” Brielle nodded. “I’ll definitely remember that next time. Thank you.”
    Kim smiled at her, then looked to Dianna. “You’re up.”
    Dianna and her Quarter Horse, Zeya, ran into trouble on the course. The mare balked at the first jump of the triple combination and Dianna had to set her up all over again for the complicated jump. The refusal was enough to rattle Dianna, who couldn’t get Zeya over the combo. The mare slowed to a near standstill before knocking the first part of the triple and Dianna couldn’t get her going fast enough for momentum. They took out all three partsof the combination but made it through the rest of the ride without any more problems.
    Disappointment was scrawled all over Dianna’s face even though she praised Zeya, and I felt a sympathy pang drop my stomach to my feet. Dianna pushed her helmet down, pretending to adjust it, but I knew she was using the visor to partly hide her eyes. I felt her embarrassment and wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand—tell her I knew how it felt.
    â€œDianna, don’t beat yourself up,” Kim said, clearly sensing Dianna’s mood. “Zeya had a bad round—it happens. You finished the rest of the course strong. You should be proud that you pulled it together after the triple.”
    Dianna lifted her head, her eyes meeting Kim’s now. “Thanks, Kim. I feel a lot better now.”
    I could tell in Dianna’s soft voice that it was true.
    It was my turn.
    Kim motioned to me and I walked Cricket away from the group. I sat deep in the saddle, tightening the reins to preempt Cricket from rushing. The mare had a bad habit of being able to sense my fear and, in turn, she’d rush jumps.
    The first vertical, solid navy blue rails, reached us fast.I rose just out of the saddle and took my weight off of Cricket’s back. Even though she was small, the mare was a high jumper. She pulled her legs close to her body and I knew there were inches between us and the rails. Cricket landed cleanly on the other side, her hooves making a small thud in the grass.
    One down! I smiled. That felt good!
    Cricket and I focused on the next jump, plastic boards that looked wooden. Kim had placed a red bucket on either side in an effort to teach the horses not to be scared by objects they didn’t expect to see on the course. Cricket didn’t even seem to notice. She sailed over the jump with her ears pointed forward, focused on whatever was next.
    I let her canter speed up as we approached, and Cricket took advantage of the extra rein without getting overexcited. Her experience, after spending years as a school horse,