Riding Above Air: Book Four in the Defining Gravity Series Read online

  Riding Above Air

  Genevieve Mckay

  Copyright©2019 Genevieve Mckay.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Acknowledgments

  Resources

  Chapter One

  “Fine, Caprice, I’ll throw the ball one last time but that’s it. I mean it. You’re supposed to take it easy, remember?”

  The little poodle crouched on her haunches, muscles flexed, toenails digging into the ground, ready to spring away. She gazed intently at the ball in my hand, her eyes glittering in the pale morning light.

  “Go.” I hurled the ball down the barn aisle and watched it bounce wildly out the front door.

  Caprice sprang away, barely touching the concrete as she skimmed over the ground like a shadow, disappearing across the driveway into the woods.

  Great, now maybe I can get some work done…

  The thought was cut off as she returned almost immediately, prancing toward me in that exaggerated way poodles do with her front feet flicking high in the air in an extended trot, the orange ball clutched triumphantly between her teeth.

  “All right, that’s it; on your bed. The vet said not to overdo it, remember?”

  She dropped the ball obediently at my feet and flopped down happily on the travel-sized dog bed I’d set up for her beside the tack room, her sides still heaving from her run.

  Back when she’d lived with my parents, before we’d run away together to live with the Ahlbergs, she’d torn a ligament in her hind leg and had narrowly avoided having surgery to repair it. Technically, she wasn’t really supposed to be playing ball so much, but it was hard to say no to those big, brown eyes, especially when I’d been almost too busy to play with her over the last few weeks.

  Huh, huh, huh, Red said from behind me. He’d swished through his knee-deep bed of shavings and now stood with his head hanging over his stall door into the aisle, peering hopefully at the orange ball at my feet. He tilted his nose to one side and pricked his ears, bobbing his nose encouragingly.

  “Sorry, buddy, that’s not an apple,” I said, stifling a laugh. I moved over to rub his wide blaze and gently tug on his floppy ears, first one and then the other.

  “You’re bored, aren’t you, handsome? I bet you want to go for a ride.” I leaned forward, resting my cheek against his soft, warm neck. “Rob will be here soon with your friends. When I get my chores finished, I promise we’ll do something fun. I know you’ve been a little neglected lately.”

  Between taking care of a stable full of horses, teaching at archery camp, recovering from my traumatic breakup with my parents, and dealing with all Hilary’s drama, the last few weeks had flown by in a blur. I’d barely had time to think let alone ride Red and Ellie as much as they deserved.

  Red gave me a friendly nudge on the arm and extracted himself from my hug, turning to saunter out to his paddock.

  “Enjoy your nap,” I called since this was exactly what he did every morning after breakfast. Red had become much more forward and animated since we’d moved to Hilary’s stable, but he still really liked to sleep. He could curl up and power nap just about anywhere. It was just one of the thousand things I loved about him.

  I went into the tack room to wash the stack of sticky feed tubs, mentally running through the list of chores that still had to be done.

  The horses are almost finished with breakfast, I thought, plunging my hands into the sudsy hot water and giving each bucket a hard scrub and a rinse. As soon as they’re done I’ll turn them out, and then I can get the stalls and paddocks done. I should have time to get all the waters in the barn scrubbed and refilled before Rob gets here with his horses.

  I’d worry about checking the pasture waters and tidying the tack room once we were done riding for the morning. Our new, potential, coach was supposed to come later in the afternoon to see the place and I wanted everything to look perfect. We needed a lesson program here badly and my old coach Liza had thought her friend Oona would fit the bill perfectly.

  “She’s been teaching overseas for years and she knows her stuff. You’ll love her once you really get to know her,” she’d told us over the phone. “She can seem a little strange at first, but her heart’s in the right place.” It wasn’t a statement that exactly inspired confidence.

  I drained the sink and set the buckets upside-down on the counter to dry, absently wiping my wet hands on my breeches.

  Still thinking about Oona, I paused in the tack room doorway, running my gaze down the aisle.

  They’re so happy, I thought, watching the contented horses with a mixture of love and pride. Sometimes I’d get so caught up in working that I’d forget how lucky I was to even be here. I had my own horses to ride (even though Ellie was only a temporary sales project), an indoor arena to school in and miles of trails to explore. Sometimes I had to pinch myself to make sure it wasn’t all going to disappear like a dream.

  The stable was my friend Hilary’s barn, but she didn’t have very much to do with it lately. Ever since she’d hurt her ankle practicing for a musical this summer she’d been moody and unpredictable and had left the running of the barn, and most of the chores, to me.

  She’d buried herself in the business side of running the stable and taken less and less of an interest in the actual horses. I’d thought it would help that her new boyfriend Darius liked to ride and everything, and was a genius at horse-archery, but it had only seemed to make things worse.

  Darius was a professional squash player who travelled a lot, so when he was away she didn’t seem able t
o focus on anything except when he’d return. She hardly ate, she kept her phone glued to her hand just in case he texted, and every conversation would somehow turn to what Darius must be doing, thinking, wearing at that moment.

  I actually liked the guy, especially since he’d spent so much time helping me train the horses to love mounted archery, but it had come to the point where her obsessive talking about him was driving me nuts and I could hardly hear his name without wanting to vomit.

  Jerry can stay inside until after his ride, I thought, watching the big, grey warmblood lip up the last few strands of his breakfast hay. Jerry was such a friendly horse and he loved attention. Hilary used to spend all sorts of time riding and just hanging out with him, but now she barely looked at him at all.

  Riverdance and Rabbit won’t get ridden until this afternoon, so they can go out. Annie and Callie won’t ride today, so Norman and Sox can go out now, too.

  “All right, everyone,” I said, “turnout for everyone except Red, Ellie, and Jerry. Let’s get your halters on.”

  Caprice leapt up off her bed, spun a few circles and danced beside me as I grabbed Norman’s halter and lead.

  Now that the new pasture fencing was finished, and the horses could spend long blissful hours just grazing and loafing in the sunshine, the entire atmosphere of the barn had changed from tense to peaceful.

  Without being cooped up in their tiny paddocks all day and hardly being ridden, the whole herd was now relaxed and easy to handle. One by one they sauntered beside me out to their fields like they’d never been the rearing, prancing nut-bars they’d been just a few months before.

  Even Rabbit, who sometimes could act like the high-strung racehorse he’d once been, didn’t even bother to run and buck when I shut the gate behind him; he just strolled out to the middle of the field and buried his face in the grass, half-closing his eyes in satisfaction.

  “Right, Caprice, that’s everyone,” I said as she looked up at me expectantly, one paw poised on the toe of my paddock boot, “time for stalls and paddocks.”

  She danced on her hind legs, yapped at me once, and then took off on her own toward the barn.

  The early morning air was still blissfully cool; a fresh little breeze skipped off the ocean and played across my skin, ruffling my hair. I hummed to myself as I trekked out to the manure pile for the fifth time, pushed my final wheelbarrow-load up the ramp we’d made and dumped it off the edge of the heap with satisfaction.

  “Ouch,” I said, flexing my hand a little and frowning down at the new row of tender, red spots that had sprung up along the fleshy part at the base of my fingers. It meant that more blisters were starting. I hated wearing gloves, so my hands had gone through a steady progression of blister to callous to new blister all summer long.

  I walked back to the barn and propped the wheelbarrow back in its spot outside and hung the manure fork neatly beside it.

  I didn’t mind doing chores at all. I loved taking care of the horses; it was probably one of the most satisfying things I’d ever done. It was especially nice in the early mornings when it was just me and the horses and Caprice, and everything was still and quiet. I had time to think about all sorts of things and dream crazy dreams about a far-off future when I had my own barn.

  On the other hand, taking care of seven horses a day, seven days a week, all by myself, was getting kind of exhausting. Especially when I also had to somehow fit in working at archery camp, helping the Ahlbergs turn their new farm into a bed and breakfast, and try to fit in my own riding time. Even though I tried not to think about it, the fact was that school was starting up again in a week and I had no idea how I was supposed to keep everything running smoothly once that happened. I barely had enough time to eat and shower as it was.

  Hilary had been promising for weeks that she was almost ready to start helping with chores again, but so far it hadn’t happened even though she was off her crutches and seemed to get around fine otherwise. Once in a while, she would feed and water the horses, but she sort of acted like she was doing me this great favour when she did it, which was incredibly annoying even though I pretended that it wasn’t.

  Stop it, I told myself, it’s too nice of a day to be worrying about all this. It will work out somehow. Hilary is just having a hard time; she’ll be back to normal soon.

  I finished the rest of my chores quickly and stood back to survey my immaculately clean aisle with satisfaction. The roomy stalls were bedded deep with shavings and the water buckets cleaned and filled. I’d soaked the beet pulp for the evening feed and prepped the hay. Now I was finally ready to ride.

  Right on cue, Rob’s big dually truck came chugging up the driveway, his trailer full of horses in tow.

  A throb of excitement went through my chest, both at the thought of the full morning of riding ahead and of seeing Rob.

  “Hey, Mr. Harris,” I called as he pulled up right in front of the barn, parking the trailer sideways so there was plenty of room to unload, “good morning.”

  “Right back at you, kiddo,” he said, jumping to the ground. He was wearing jeans, Blundstone boots and a cowboy hat, but he wasn’t a rider. He supported Rob’s sport a hundred percent and he liked the horses, but he was quite happy to stay on the ground. “How are you holding up?”

  “Great,” I said, quickly ducking into the trailer to avoid his sympathetic look and put off any more questions. I knew Rob’s dad still worried about me after that horrible night I’d taken Caprice and ran away from my crazy parents to come live with the Ahlbergs. And I appreciated that he cared about me, but that didn’t mean I wanted to go around sharing my feelings every time I saw him.

  Everyone at the barn had been so nice and supportive. Sadie had even given me the number of a counsellor just in case I wanted to talk to someone. But honestly, I didn’t want to talk about it at all; it was easier to pretend that the whole thing had never happened.

  All I wanted to do was to play with horses, practice archery, and enjoy what was left of my summer in peace. There was no need to ruin all that by constantly dredging up the past.

  “Hey, you,” Rob said from inside the trailer. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and Ferdi’s lead in the other, but he somehow still managed to lean over and wrap me in a tight hug.

  I let myself rest against him for a second, inhaling deeply and feeling like I always did when he was around, sort of safe and normal. I didn’t know how I’d gotten so lucky as to have him in my life.

  I pushed back reluctantly, already feeling the earlier tiredness of the morning dissolve like magic and be replaced by a new shot of energy.

  “You ready to have fun, Artimax?” I said, turning to Rob’s little Appaloosa-Warmblood cross, who was bobbing his head impatiently. I tickled his speckled nose and then reached up to scratch him under his neatly-pulled mane. He was my favourite horse to exercise, after Red, and I always chose him for these conditioning rides. I unclipped him and led him down the ramp, following Ferdi into the barn.

  On the days when the barn was full, we’d often put Rob’s horses in the unused back paddocks while we rode, but it was much quicker, and more fun, if he just used the main barn and we could get tacked up together. With half the horses already turned out in the pasture there was room enough for everyone today.

  I went back for the little buckskin mare, Possum, and took a moment to admire how nicely muscled she’d become since coming to stay with Rob this spring. She’d been sent down with two other young, green horses from my Aunt Lillian’s ranch to see if they’d sell more quickly here on the Island. Now Possum looked less like a working ranch horse and more like a little show pony, with her silky, black mane freshly trimmed and her buttermilk coat shiny with dapples. Rob would probably have no trouble finding a good home for her.

  “Sorry, you’ll have to get Maverick yourself,” I said quickly as I passed, sending him a teasing look.

  Maverick was another one of Aunt Lillian’s projects, but he was my least favourite horse. He was a good-lookin
g animal with a slick, black coat that glistened in the sun and delicately carved features that spoke to his good breeding. But the sullen, untrustworthy look rarely left his face, and he usually kept his pointed little ears flattened tight against his head unless there were treats around.

  The vet, the chiropractor, and the massage therapist hadn’t found anything physically wrong with him; it looked like this was just his permanent, charming personality. I didn’t think it made him a good sales candidate, but Rob still had faith in him for some reason.

  “You kids have fun,” Rob’s dad said once we were all unloaded and he’d unhooked the trailer from his work truck. “Your coffee and pastries are in the tack room, Astrid. We didn’t forget.”

  “Ooh, thanks,” I said, disappearing into the tack room to find the greasy, brown paper bag that contained my favourites. I came back out with Red’s brush box in one hand and a sticky piece of raspberry glazed fry-bread in the other. I’d become addicted to the stuff since Rob’s dad had brought me some from his friend’s gourmet food truck this summer and now I could never get enough.

  “Right, ring or trails?” Rob said, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Trails,” I said quickly, not even hesitating. It was too nice of a morning to waste inside.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Rob teased. “Who’s up first?”

  “Red, of course,” I said since he was my obvious favourite. “What about you?”

  “I’ll tack-up Jerry, then; Red’s a good influence on him. When is Hilary planning on riding again, anyway? It’s getting a little silly that she’s still paying me to exercise her horse when she’s perfectly able to ride.”

  “Soon, I hope,” I said, taking my last bite of pastry and ducking into Red’s stall. Even though Hilary was being incredibly irritating lately, I still felt a bit guilty talking about her behind her back, even to Rob. She’d been a really good friend to me all these years and her family had taken me in when I had nowhere to go. I just hoped she’d get over herself soon.

  I knew Rob cared about her, too, but he was getting frustrated with how she was acting. And I hadn’t even told him yet how much extra work I still had to do. I was avoiding that conversation as long as I could. Surely things would get better on their own eventually.