Maybe even beat her own mother.
“I sometimes forget what a beautiful rider she is,” Maggie said.
Daniel’s eyes stayed on Becky and Sky.
“Beautiful,” he said. “Yes.”
They heard Gus from across the way keeping up a steady stream of conversation, as if Becky could hear him even when she was at the far end. Maybe she could. Telling her to keep her hands up. Yelling “Right!” more than once as Sky began to drift to the right.
Yelling at her not to rush.
“Come on, kid,” Maggie said to herself, in a quiet voice, only loud enough for Daniel to hear. “Come on.”
Becky finished clean. Maggie let out a whoop that had people in the immediate area staring at her. She shrugged. “My kid,” she said in explanation because, even after all the drama of the past few weeks between her and Becky, she was still her kid.
One who’d just finished with the best time of the class so far. For now, Maggie’s time was second. It was where they finished and meant Maggie would go second-to-last in the jump-off order. Becky would go last.
“Can’t make it up,” Maggie said to Daniel.
“Not any of it,” Daniel said.
By now she was back up on Coronado in the schooling ring. When Becky came back in on Sky, their eyes met, briefly. Becky didn’t change expression. Maggie had to fight to keep herself from smiling at what they’d always called her daughter’s resting bitch face.
Wouldn’t have it any other way, Maggie thought. Then she gave Coronado a little kick. Letting the big boy know it was time.
And put on a bitch face of her own.
SEVENTY-THREE
Maggie
ONLY TWO RIDERS had gone clean in the jump-off. One was Tyler Cullen. Tyler had the best time at 36.14, relatively slow for this particular course. But he’d watched the others put rails on the ground and played it safe, going right before Maggie.
Down to Maggie and Becky now, Maggie next in on Coronado. Becky was right behind them in the in-gate. Maggie didn’t turn around. She was studying the course one last time, replaying recent advice from Dr. Rotella by way of his old friend, a basketball coach. When a game looked even, always bet the team that needed it more.
Maggie knew how much she needed this.
The money was nice. They could always use the money at Atwood Farm. At least they hadn’t been consumed lately by the subject of money once Becky had won on this horse. But Maggie knew it was more than that now. Way more.
“This is a good course for you,” Daniel said. “It favors a horse with a longer stride.”
Longer than Sky’s, he meant, but didn’t come right out and say it.
“Trust yourself,” he said. Then added something, she thought, about the trail, but Maggie was no longer listening. She studied the first two jumps. All noise had dropped away now. Sometimes it was true. All you really could hear was the sound of your own heart.
Maybe she’d get scared again before the round was over.
But not now.
On the fourth jump, she used Coronado’s length, knew she’d picked up time, shortening the line from seven strides to six. At the last moment, before he was in the air, she yelled “Yeah!” Knowing she’d been close to the rail with his front legs. Feeling it.
But they made it.
Came up on the rollback, a tight, dangerous one for a horse as big as Coronado. She still took the riskier lane, the inside one.
Made it.
Not overthinking things. Riding her horse. Letting this part of the course come to them.
Still not afraid.
One more jump. Seven strides to the finish. One last time, she asked Coronado to do it in six.
He did.
Cleared the last jump.
35.7.
Now Maggie was in first place.
She didn’t celebrate, didn’t pump a fist or change expression. Didn’t show anything at all. Just patted the side of Coronado’s head as she slowed him down and moved him back toward the in-gate as Becky went past her.
SEVENTY-FOUR
“LOOK AT ME,” Gus said, jabbing his fingers at his eyes.
Mom had just finished. Crowd had gone wild. I was ready to get out there. But Gus had one last thing to say. He always had one last thing to say.
“You’re not here to finish second,” he said. “Got it?”
“Got it,” I said.
“Make sure that you do,” Gus said.
We’d discussed the course before leaving the schooling ring. It was built for bigger horses like Mom’s. And Tyler’s. They had longer strides. But their horses couldn’t fly the way mine could.
I’d been taking my temperature, all the way into the International, the night coming down like this to Sky and me. I was nervous and excited. But I also knew I’d won here before.