A Leap For The Sky - Kc Wheeler (popular novels .TXT) 📗
- Author: Kc Wheeler
Book online «A Leap For The Sky - Kc Wheeler (popular novels .TXT) 📗». Author Kc Wheeler
Larissa rode out cursing under her breath. She dismounted and shoved the reins into the hands of a groom.
“Oooh, she won’t be happy about that,” Lucy mused, just loud enough for me to hear. She looked up at me, her brown eyes sparkling. “Well. Go get ‘em!”
I smiled at her. But I was nervous. Our warm-up had knocked my confidence.
The dark sky looked menacing above me. A drop of rain landed on my glove. As I trotted around the jump course, I realized just how terrible the ground really was. The ground felt squishy, giving me a similar feeling to riding in deep sand. The weight of the horses had left deep hoof prints in the soft ground. The grass had been rubbed raw, a prominent line of uneven mud leading up to each fence. What was left of the grass still glistened with water.
Another rain drop hit my glove. And another.
I frowned as doubt clouded my mind. Is this such a good idea? It’s so slippery. Maybe I should pull out. What if I mess up? I thought. But everybody else has managed to go around safely, I argued with myself. Although, they went before me. The ground has worsened with every round.
I focused on Gypsy, staring down at her darkening neck. The rain was falling rapidly now. What’s taking them so long? I asked myself. Maybe I should pull out…
The bell rang.
I glanced at my parents, who stared back expectantly, sheltered under a large umbrella. Lucy gave me a thumbs up. I couldn’t read Steve’s expression.
I gave Gypsy the cue to canter. She obliged, this time enthusiastically, and I steered her into the first fence, holding my breath. Gypsy didn’t falter despite the ground conditions. I was so lucky to have such a careful, sure-footed horse. As we landed on the other side, all doubt escaped my mind. She cleared the next few just as nicely, her wet neck reaching up to greet me. The rain was coming down hard now, but it didn’t matter. We maintained our rhythm and she jumped each one as effortlessly as the last. Gypsy saw the double and sped up, flattening her stride. I cursed under my breath, realizing I’d forgotten to pay attention to how other riders on smaller horses took the double. I bit my lip and closed my outside rein, asking Gypsy to come back to me. “It’s too slippery,” I told her. Gypsy pulled gently against me, disagreeing with my decision. But she reluctantly slowed down.
It was when we neared the fence that I realized my sweet little horse knew what she was doing. Gypsy had been going for the long stride I’d been considering earlier, and I was a fool not to have let her. “Sorry girl!”
I sat and waited. I knew we were going to take down the second fence to the double and there was nothing I could do about it.
But Gypsy had other ideas.
I counted my striding on approach. One, two, three, four… I prepared for take-off, but to my surprise Gypsy kept going for a fifth stride.
The double was right there. We were in too deep.
Cringing, I sat back to ensure I wouldn’t go flying when Gypsy crashed through the jump.
And I got left behind.
I didn’t know how she did it. I’d never know how she did it. Somehow Gypsy sprung over, her body sailing with her front legs following. She popped me up and out of the saddle. My feet flew back deep into the stirrups. I let the reins slip through my hands to ensure Gypsy had full freedom of her head and neck. Gravity pulled me back into the saddle as her front feet hit the ground. I landed hard on her neck, grabbing the loose piece of mane as she sailed clear over the second part of the double. I slid to the side, and Gypsy slowed down allowing me to correct myself.
Gypsy had just done the impossible.
My hands shook violently on the reins. My heart bet wildly in my chest. “You are one crazy mare,” I said in a shaky whisper.
She didn’t argue for the rest of the course. She didn’t need to. She knew she could clear the other fences from a slow rounded canter; this horse had springs in her feet. Gypsy cleared the wall and finished the round clear. She was so clever on her feet that she hadn’t slipped once.
The bell for the jump-off rang and Gypsy sprang back into canter. I didn’t need to ask; she knew the second bell was the cue for to start the jump-off. She quickened her pace but I asked her to go slow. Her ears flickered towards me as she collected back up into a slow canter. I knew she’d be feeling confused.
She flew over the first fence, stretching her neck out as we sailed through the air. My heart was positively soaring. She sped up again on landing and this time, I gave in to my insecurities and I let her.
This horse had saved me so many times. She’d covered my mistakes, clearing rails I considered a definite goner. She’d prevented me from falling in every way a horse possibly could. She taught me something new every time we competed. She’d bought me this far… Who was I to question her?
“I trust you,” I murmured.
She cleared the next fence, slipping slightly on landing. However, she quickly regathered herself and carried on contently, so I continued to let her choose her pace.
I felt so free. It was just Gypsy and I. Everybody else was forgotten.
At the second to last jump, everything went wrong.
Gypsy sped up. Her usually smooth canter turned bumpy. Her head shot up high as she bounded towards the fence, each stride jarring my back.
Despite the increase of pace, everything seemed to go in slow motion. Suddenly, I could feel the rain pelting down on my back. I could hear it, thundering onto my helmet. I could feel the cold, damp water seeping through my gloves.
Pouring… It was pouring…
I heard voices; people talking. It wasn’t just me and Gypsy anymore. Did I hear shouting? My mind clouded over and I was hit with a wave of dread.
Gypsy took the jump long, hollowing her back. She touched the rail, but it remained. She stumbled as she landed and I heard a crack, ever so quietly that I could have imagined it. That gentle sound filled me with apprehension. She scrambled back up and continued forward.
Her gait so rough; her head so high; her ears so flat.
I felt her body trembling just slightly as she ran. I heard someone screaming.
Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. The words chanted in my head, a continuous wave of anxiety.
I pulled hard on one rein, struggling to turn Gypsy away from the incoming fence.
But it was like she wasn’t there.
Ignoring me, she continued on. We were a stride out from the final fence. It was too late to pull her out safely. Terrified, I tensed and prepared for the worst. Gypsy leaped high into the air. Up… up… up… I grasped desperately at her mane as both stirrups were lost. For a brief moment it was as though time stood still. I felt frozen in midair, high above the fence, my stomach turned over in fear.
Then we plunged down.
Down… down… down…
She scrambled along the ground; frantic.
Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.
Gypsy seemed to vanish out from under me and I felt myself sail through the air. I landed hard on my back, the wind knocked out from inside of me. Pain shot through my body. I was too stunned to make a sound as I saw Gypsy above me; only she was falling.
I was about to be squashed.
Unable to move, I jammed my eyes tightly shut and waited for further pain.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm roughly, hoisting me out of harm’s way. A moment later I felt a whoosh of cool air followed by a deafening thud as Gypsy’s body slammed onto the ground, just inches from where I lay.
For a moment all was silent. My body in shock, I’d temporarily lost my sense of hearing. I was so confused. I knew everything was wrong; I knew it was bad; but I couldn’t process what had happened, or why it had happened. Then suddenly, I could hear again.
“Adele! Adele, honey, are you okay?” Mum’s distressed voice.
I heard squeaky footsteps as they approached me quickly through the wet mud. “Is she okay?” Lucy’s voice. So loud.
I heard whispers and soft murmurs all around. I thought I heard crying. The thundering rain had lightened back down to a weak drizzle.
I heard a man’s voice. “Call the vet. The horse is going to need put down,” followed by a loud gasp.
That’s when I forced myself back to reality, launching myself up to a sitting position so fast that I screamed in agony. My back! It hurt so much! Such a sharp, sharp pain, all down my spine.
“Lie back down,” Mum placed her hand on my shoulder, encouraging me to get back down. But I ignored her.
Mum, Dad, Lucy, Natasha, Steve, and one of the fence judges stood surrounding me. Everybody else stood back, watching and murmuring sadly from the sidelines.
My eyes flew to the area Gypsy had fallen. She must have gotten to her feet whilst I was in a daze for she stood a few metres back. Her ears pricked forward, she gazed around contently. I sighed with relief. She was okay. What was that man talking about?
That’s when I saw it.
Her right foreleg; it dangled loosely from the joint.
A wave of nausea rolled over me and I swallowed hard, forcing away the taste of vomit. My body began to shake violently.
This is a nightmare. This isn’t real.
Then I was screaming; screaming and crying. My physical pain forgotten, I threw my body around, wailing uncontrollably. My head pounded and my vision blurred through my never-ending flow of tears.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” I thought that maybe if I said the word enough times, this wouldn’t be real.
Then Mum was crying. She grasped me in a tight hug. “It’s okay honey, it’s okay,” she murmured. I don’t know why people say it’s okay even when it’s clearly not okay. It’d never be okay.
I pulled away from her and dragged myself to my feet, waving slightly. I had to be with Gypsy.
I approached her and threw my arms around her neck, sobbing loudly into her matted mane, her sweet horsey scent faint beneath the smell of wet-horse.
Gypsy still looked so content and I didn’t understand why. Doesn’t it hurt?
“I’m s… so sorry. I’m so sorry, so sorry, so sorry…” I was worried about the ground conditions, but I’d jumped her anyway. I’d risked her life… For what? Now she had a broken leg… And now…
“You know what this means, don’t you Adele?” a voice said behind me. Dad’s voice. I turned. His voice was calm, but his eyes were wet. “The vet is on the way.”
I knew this had to happen, but hearing it finalized everything, and my already broken heart shattered completely. I couldn’t handle this.
“It… it’s all my fault…” I stammered.
“No honey. Accidents happen,” Mum reached for me again. “It’s not your fault.”
Lucy, who had vanished to the car, came back with Gypsy’s feed. “I’ll see if she wants to eat while we wait,” she said quietly, her eyes fixated on the bucket. Then she glanced quickly at me with her tear-streaked face. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out.
Gypsy buried her face in the bucket, gratefully eating the feed offered.
“Why doesn’t she look sore? M… Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks… Maybe we can save her,” I cried hopefully.
“Her body has gone into shock.
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