Winning Heart. Laura Browning

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СКАЧАТЬ ground. “You can do it!” Wynter did her best to just stay out of Rosie’s way while she flew over the fence, leaving plenty of air between the top rail and her feet. As soon as the pair landed, Wynter sat down and brought Rosie back hard, collecting for the one stride, another vertical to an oxer. She seemed to bounce in place as she shortened her stride and powered over the jumps.

      The horse responded instantly to Wynter’s legs and the shift of her weight, executing a tight turn and galloping forward toward the water jump. One, two, three. Wynter asked for the takeoff, and the mare responded with a strong finish over the ten-foot spread. She grinned at Thomas when he met them at the gate.

      “Good girls!” he praised them both. “That’s what I’ve been waiting to see from this mare!” He patted her neck and grabbed the reins as Wynter hopped down. “Don’t wander off. You’re clear with no time penalties, so you’ll be in the jump-off.” Wynter nodded while she watched Thomas hand Rosie off to the groom. “You’ve got fifteen minutes!” he called when she headed outside.

      It was quiet outside the door, isolated almost, even with the traffic of horses and grooms going back and forth between the warm-up ring and the arena. Wynter took off her helmet and leaned against the wall outside the door. The coolness felt good. She sucked in a deep breath, feeling the tension drain away as she released it.

      “Hey, Wyn!” a familiar voice called. “Nice ride! You sit a horse even better than you swear.”

      Wynter laughed with sudden relief and turned sideways to lean against the wall. “Rico, that was just what I needed. Thanks!”

      “Here,” he said, offering a cigarette. “If you liked that, then a smoke should help.”

      She stripped off her gloves and shoved them in the pocket of her jacket before taking the smoke. Rico offered his cigarette to light it from. She handed it back and took a deep draw.

      “No kidding,” the teenager continued. “You’re good. An’ I thought you were jus’ a groom! Where you learn to ride like that?”

      Wynter shrugged. She hadn’t. She just had more guts than sense and often put the Southards’ field hunters at obstacles their owners would have fainted at, had they seen it. She had jumped rows of round bales and pine trees fallen across trails through the woods. There had even been a car or two and a few farm wagons in there. Wynter stamped the cigarette out under the heel of her boot.

      “I taught myself until I rode Rosie then Thomas fixed me,” she explained as she grinned at Rico. “And trust me, I still need a lot of fixing!”

      They both laughed.

      “I see you’ve landed on your feet.”

      Wynter stopped laughing. She knew that voice. Payton Southard, Junior. She felt more than saw Rico vanish into the darkness. Great! Just when she could have used a little moral support, he had disappeared. Squaring her shoulders, she straightened and eyed the older man.

      “Yes, I have. Not that it’s any of your concern.” She felt a surge of confidence. This man was no longer the intimidating influence of the past few years. “I’m paying my own way through Duke, Mr. Southard. Dean’s list, both summer sessions. Can you say the same of your son?”

      “Why you…” he blustered, taking a threatening step forward when a cold, furious voice interrupted.

      “I wouldn’t finish what you’re about to say or do, Southard.”

      She turned to find Nelson standing there, a Nelson she had never seen look so cold. His eyes glittered and his jaw was hard with a fury out of proportion to the situation. He turned to her and softened. “Wynter, Thomas needs you inside. They’re resetting the course for the jump-off.”

      She nodded and walked by him without a word. For once in her life, she feared saying anything. With that look Nelson had become a stranger. After she shut the door, she still heard the voices from outside as they drifted around the gangway where the horses entered. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but the bitter, angry edge was obvious, as was the fact the two men knew each other.

      Wynter found Thomas leaning against the rail, watching while the height on the fences was adjusted. She stood next to him, gaze on the ring and asked, “Thomas, how does Mr. Anderson know Payton Southard, the man I used to work for?”

      He tensed, turning with a slight frown. “Why do you ask?”

      “They’re outside. Mr. Southard stopped to…speak to me. Mr. Anderson came out to get me, and he seemed angry.”

      Thomas glanced at the door behind them. “It’s not my place to tell you. That’s something you’ll have to take up with Nelson.” He seemed anxious when he said, “Stay here, lass, I’ll be right back.”

      Thomas hurried out the door, leaving her to stare after him in confusion. What was going on? When she started to go after him, Olivia Rutledge chose that moment to come down the steps. Wynter smiled, happy to see her, but still worried what was happening outside—and why.

      “What a wonderful ride. I was so concerned when that girl in the front row took that flash picture as you headed to the triple. I hardly dared breathe, but you and Rosie cleared the fence anyway.”

      “Thanks, Miss Olivia.” She glanced over toward where the Southards sat, Payton, Junior joining everyone else. He looked pale, but it could have been a trick of the lighting inside the arena.

      The announcer gave a five-minute warning for the jump-off. It would be short. Just four other horses went clear. Wynter drew the first go. She put her gloves back on and found both Thomas and Nelson behind her. An aura of controlled anger still hung around Nelson. He barely acknowledged the greetings of other riders when they came and went.

      “Warm back up,” Thomas said. He had his game face on now, so Wynter nodded while she tucked stray hair under the helmet and snapped the harness. “Go for clear first, speed second—but don’t dawdle. Like we practiced. Tight, tight turns. Rosie can jump these fences almost from a standstill if you make her believe.”

      The groom brought the mare forward, and Thomas gave Wynter a leg up. She settled into the saddle and turned Rosie on a loose rein while they trotted out to the warm-up ring to loosen things up. Wynter wouldn’t take another fence before the jump-off. The announcer called the class and their names. With a tight smile at everyone gathered near the in gate, she trotted the mare through the opening to the middle of the ring, turned and saluted the judge, then nudged Rosie into a collected canter. Everything else faded as Wynter found the first fence and turned toward it. Seven jumps, laid out in a twisting pattern with two turn backs before a long gallop to the finish. She concentrated on doing just what Thomas had instructed.

      Rosie wasn’t as relaxed as before. Taking a chance, Wynter slowed down a notch, asking for collection. The horse’s ears flicked before she responded.

      “You can do it, Rosie!” she encouraged as they reached the first fence. “Come on, mare. Show them what you’ve got!”

      She did. Collected, ears forward, she powered over the fences then made beautiful tight turns. They approached the last fence, the in gate in sight. It was a high vertical that forced Wynter to resist the temptation to let Rosie flatten out going in, but when they landed, she leaned forward and hissed at the big mare. Rosie leaped forward. They finished with one time fault.

      The groom met them at the gate. Wynter vaulted off Rosie, СКАЧАТЬ