“There’s still time for you two to get on the same page,” Daniel said.
“Bullshit,” Gus said. “If she rides in the next Grand Prix the way she rode the last one, we’re out of luck and out of time. And screwed.”
“If it’s that bad,” Daniel said, “I am not sure how I can help you.”
Still not believing that the great Gus Bennett had come to him for advice.
“I usually don’t need any help from anybody.”
“So I have heard,” Daniel said. He smiled.
“I’ve tried being nice, I’ve tried yelling at her, I’ve tried challenging her, I’ve tried backing off,” Gus said. “Usually I don’t give a rip about hurting somebody’s feelings. If they want to work with me, I just assume they know the deal going in. But she’s so goddamn fragile right now.”
“We both know she was different before the horse threw her,” Daniel said.
And was sorry all over again. As if Gus Bennett’s whole world hadn’t been different before he was the one thrown.
“I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” he said.
“Sure you did,” Gus said.
“What I am trying to say is that Maggie was fearless before she was injured,” Daniel said. “In so many ways, I had little to do because she trained herself.” He pointed at Gus with his mug. “Is she not allowing you to train her?”
“Beats the shit out of me what she’s thinking right now,” Gus said. He grinned. “So tell you what. How about we switch riders?”
He said it casually, as if asking Daniel if he wanted another beer.
“You don’t want that.”
“Don’t I?” Gus said. “Gonna tell you something right here: your Becky has a chance to be better than all of them if she stays with it and you don’t screw it up.”
“Not my Becky,” Daniel said.
“Figure of speech,” Gus said.
Daniel said, “I know how talented she is. I think I have always known.”
“Does she know?”
“I am hoping she is in the process of finding out.”
Gus checked his watch. Daniel asked if he had to be somewhere. “Not exactly,” Gus said. Sipped some of his beer.
“But none of this helps you with Maggie,” Daniel said.
“The goal is still that we all make it to the Olympics,” Gus said. “Who the hell knows, this might be my last best shot.”
“Maggie can still make it,” Daniel said, “and so can you.”
Gus shook his head.
“With what I’m seeing,” Gus said, “she only makes it to Paris if she buys herself a ticket.”
He leaned forward, the powerful forearms on the table between them, his huge hands clasped, not making any attempt, as usual, to lower his voice.
“Right now,” he said, “she’s not close to being the rider her kid is.”
“Good to know,” Maggie Atwood said.
Before he or Daniel could say anything, Maggie and Caroline were already heading for the door. Daniel started to get up, saying, “I need to go after her.”
Gus Bennett clamped a hand on Daniel’s arm. His grip felt like a vise.
“Let her go,” he said.
SIXTY-EIGHT
I’D QUALIFIED ON SKY for Saturday night’s Bank of America Grand Prix the day before. It had not been pretty. I felt as if we were out of sync even before two late, pretty careless rails. But I still made it to Saturday night. Barely.
I wanted to win, of course. But at the very least, I needed to make it to the jump-off. Needed to ribbon. Basically, I needed points on the board.
I’d been working hard over the past week, putting in countless hours in the ring. It wouldn’t matter without results in the International Arena. As Grandmother had said at breakfast:
“This isn’t travel soccer. Nobody’s going to hand you a trophy for participating.”
An hour later I was out in our ring for a practice session on Sky. Normally I wouldn’t jump Sky, even over baby jumps, the day after any competition, serious or otherwise. But I was more on the clock than ever if I wanted to make it to Paris. Riding my own horse now.
When I did jump Sky two days in a row, I’d give her a longer warm-up than usual, like the one we were just finishing up. Then there would be a longer-than-usual cool-down after we left the ring.
In between, we were going after it hard today. So was my trainer. Especially my trainer.
“I’m sorry,” Gus Bennett yelled at me now. “Are we going to trot the adorable little horse all goddamn morning, or we going to finally get to work?”