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

  Red was already fairly clean, and it only took me a few minutes to run a soft body brush over his sides to whisk off some stray bits of dust, pick his feet, and put his boots on. I frowned at the frayed edges at the bottom of both front boots where some of the stitching had come apart. I used them nearly every day on either Red or Ellie and they were looking a little worse for wear.

  Probably the salt water from the ocean eating them away, I thought with a sigh, but they’ll have to do. I just didn’t have the money in my non-existent budget to buy any new stuff now.

  I slipped a clean, sky-blue pad on his back and then settled his saddle in place, shifting it back a little until it fit perfectly. Then I did his girth up loosely and put his bridle on, fussing with the straps until they were tucked neatly into their keepers and the bit sat evenly in his mouth.

  Finally, he was ready to go, and he clopped out of his stall after me, his eyes bright with anticipation.

  “Ready?” Rob said with a grin. He was already up on Jerry, his legs hanging loosely against the horse’s sides, stirrups crossed over the front of his saddle.

  Jerry stood with his head high, staring off in the distance with his gaze fixed on something only he could see. I tightened Red’s girth and swung up from the mounting block, leaning down to give him an appreciative pat, thankful that I was riding him and not a younger, more reactive horse like Jerry.

  Rob rode the big horse easily, the reins held lightly between his fingers. He was not at all concerned with any quirks or shenanigans some of the horses pulled on him like I would have been. I’d never actually seen him afraid of anything.

  “Come on, big guy,” he said, brushing his calves softly against Jerry’s sides.

  Jerry snorted loudly through both nostrils and took a couple of big prancing trot steps as if he were about to get airborne. Rob adjusted his reins slightly but acted like he didn’t even notice the big horse’s energy.

  “So, where should we go this morning?” he asked casually, not losing his position as Jerry skipped sideways away from a scary tuft of grass.

  “The whole route,” I said without hesitation since this was my first time out in days and I felt like I owed Red a decent ride. And myself for that matter.

  Whatever Rob’s strategy was with Jerry it seemed to work: within a minute the young horse’s excitement drained away. He let out a big sigh and dropped his head, strolling along like a relaxed trail horse, his moment of drama completely forgotten.

  I breathed in the fresh, country air happily and leaned back in the saddle, looking up at the clear, blue sky with utter contentment. These were the perfect moments I lived for; being out in nature with the people and animals that I liked best.

  “Hey, are we still going to do that schooling show?” Rob asked casually, bringing me back to the present with a jolt. “It’s coming up in a few weeks.”

  “Oh, shoot,” I said, clapping a hand to my forehead. “I’m so sorry. I printed off the entry forms and everything and then totally forgot about them. There’s just been so much going on…” I stopped, my eyes losing focus as I gazed off into the distance, all at once remembering that final night I’d run away. My skin prickled. I could almost hear Marion’s scream, the horrible sound of Caprice’s panicked yelps when my dad had hurt her, the terrible utter helplessness I’d felt.

  I shook my head to clear it, shivering despite the relentless August sun beating down overhead.

  Pull yourself together, I told myself sternly. Most of the time I thought I was totally over what had happened but sometimes, out of the blue, it would all come rushing back.

  “It’s no problem,” Rob said easily, turning to look over his shoulder at me, never guessing the things running through my head. “You can still send them in if you hurry. The entries haven’t closed yet.”

  I looked down at Red’s neck bobbing away happily beneath me and sighed. The truth was that I had barely schooled him or Ellie at all in the last month. I’d been so busy that I usually just spent all my precious riding time going out on the trails or practicing mounted archery on our home-built course in the woods. I hadn’t seemed to have the heart for schooling lately, I got distracted too easily and it just felt a bit pointless.

  “I can go over your tests with you if you like,” Rob said encouragingly, not understanding my silence. “I mean if you want me to.”

  “Rob, I’m really sorry,” I said miserably. “I just don’t have time right now. We have the last of archery camp all this week and then school’s starting. I haven’t even picked up my uniform yet…” I was astonished to hear the quiver in my voice. Why on earth was I making such a big deal about this? My emotions always seemed to run so closely to the surface lately, any little thing could set me off.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Rob said, drawing Jerry level with Red and laying a hand softly on my arm. “I know you’ve had a lot going on. I just thought it was something you were looking forward to. Something we could do together.”

  “It was,” I said guiltily. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. I even told Aunt Lillian I’d take Ellie to get her some show miles; I hope she’s not too disappointed.”

  “Of course she won’t be. Everyone understands that this summer has been hard on you, Astrid. Besides, there’s a whole winter full of schooling shows you can sign up for. I bet it will be easier once your new instructor arrives and you can take lessons again. Or, I can ride Ellie in it for you if you want, if you’re worried about getting her more mileage.”

  “That’s a good idea, actually,” I said gratefully, glad to be off the hook, “thanks. Oh, I forgot to tell you, new coach, Liza’s friend Oona, is supposed to be coming today, after lunch.”

  “Really? That’s great, I didn’t think she’d be here so soon. Let me know once her lesson schedule is set up. I’d like to try her out.”

  “Sure, I don’t know what she’ll be like, though. Liza hinted that she might be a little weird.”

  “It’s okay,” Rob shrugged and sent me a sideways look. “I’m used to hanging out with weird girls by now.”

  “Hey!” I punched him playfully on the shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, nothing,” he said innocently, sending me a wink and a smile. “Seriously, though, she’s probably going to be good. Liza wouldn’t have sent her otherwise. And weird doesn’t have to mean bad. Nori thinks we’re pretty weird after all with our crazy horse-training ideas.”

  “Yeah, she totally thinks we’re nuts sometimes.”

  Nori was the twelve-year-old daughter of Norman’s owner Annie, and she’d been pretty angry at the world when she and her family had first arrived. She’d mostly been mourning the death of her young event horse, Lumi, but she also hadn’t thought much of the way we handled the horses; her opinion was that we were too soft on them and spent too much time on slow conditioning work, building the horse’s bodies and minds so that they were prepared to tackle harder jobs in the future. It wasn’t Nori’s style to do anything slowly.

  She’d changed her mind about most of it over the summer, especially since Rob had started letting her ride Maverick.

  “Hey, are we still on for the movie tomorrow night?”

  “Yep, I think so. As long as Hilary’s parents still let her go. They’ve been arguing about Darius again and she’s been sulking in her room since yesterday.”

  “She’s still being moody, hey?”

  “That’s putting it mildly. I honestly don’t know what’s gotten into her. She has everything that she wants out of life and she doesn’t seem happy at all. She has a fantastic horse she doesn’t ride, a beautiful barn that she hardly sets foot inside anymore. And yeah, her parents are being a little strict about Darius but at least they’re letting her see him. My dad wouldn’t have let me date anyone. Ever. Not even you and you’re perfect. She has no idea how lucky she is.”

  “Perfect, hey?” Rob said, grinning. He eased Jerry to a halt so I could catch up.

  “Come on, you know what
I mean,” I said. “You’re like the most honest, trustworthy person on the planet. Anyone would be safe with you.”

  “I don’t know, Astrid, that sounds pretty boring. You just haven’t seen my wild side yet,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at me suggestively.

  “Oh, please, you’re about as wild as Red here. You’re dependable and smart and you’re brilliant with horses and that’s why I lo—” I bit the word off before it could come out, “…like you so much.” I corrected, my heart contracting painfully in my chest. What was I doing? I’d almost accidentally said that I loved him. Who said things like that? He’d think I was the stupidest person ever.

  He looked at me steadily, his smile slipping away, and then he leaned over from Jerry’s back and kissed me so softly that it was like the gentlest of silk brushing across my lips. But there was nothing soft about the jolt of electricity that sizzled and crackled between us, so intense that it took me by surprise. We broke apart, just staring at each other wide-eyed until impatient Jerry bobbed his head up and down and started up the trail of his own accord.

  I let Red find his own way while I sat there on autopilot, my thoughts and emotions churning so fast that I could hardly think.

  “Come on,” Rob called casually over his shoulder, “let’s trot this stretch.”

  I was glad to follow his lead and by the time we’d trotted and cantered a couple of times I was back to my old self again.

  We stopped on the beach to let the horses wade knee-deep in the water. Even though they’d been there a million times before, Jerry still made a show of lifting each front hoof high in the air and slamming them down in the water one at a time, snorting dramatically and getting us all wet. Red was too dignified for that, but he dipped his nose carefully in the sea-foam and licked the salty brine off his lips like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. When he lifted his head, he had a funny little mustache of foam stuck to his upper lip that suited him perfectly.

  We trotted up the hill to the woods and then let the horses canter up to the make-shift archery range where we’d set up a handful of targets in a line between the trees.

  “Sorry, Red, I didn’t bring my bow,” I said, scratching his neck as he automatically stopped parallel to the first target and stood motionless, expecting me to shoot. We’d worked hard to get Red, Ellie, and Rob’s horses comfortable with us shooting off their backs. Darius had taught me how to school them slowly, building up their tolerance to the arrows whizzing overhead until they were rock solid. We’d started first on the ground, then when mounted, and then at faster and faster gaits.

  Red never forgot anything he’d been taught, especially when there were treats involved, and now he arched his neck and swivelled an ear back at me, convinced he was being a perfect pony.

  “Fine, yes, you’re a good boy.” I laughed and fished a treat from my pocket which is exactly what he’d been waiting for. He turned his nose so I could lean forward and slip it between his searching lips. “Don’t tell anyone that I’m teaching you bad habits, though.”

  Past the archery range was a nice wide path that was perfect for cantering; we let them move out for one last stretch and then, reluctantly, brought them back down to a walk to let them cool out.

  “I’m glad you’re here today,” I said, staring dreamily up at the blue sky overhead. “I wish this is how life was always.”

  “Do you?” Rob asked, and I looked up at the strange, almost sad, note in his voice.

  “Of course I do, who wouldn’t want to do this forever?”

  Rob didn’t say anything for a few minutes and we walked on a loose rein, letting the horses stretch.

  I glanced over at him a few times, but he looked so deep in thought that I didn’t want to bother him.

  “The thing is,” he said finally, drawing Jerry to a halt, “I think I want to work with horses full time once I graduate.”

  “Well, that’s not shocking, Rob. I think we all knew that.”

  “Yes, but my dad doesn’t. I know he wants me to go to university.”

  “Come on, he’s the best parent on the planet; he’s not going to expect you to do something you don’t want for the rest of your life. You ride horses all day long, every day; surely he knows that you don’t want to give it up to work in some office somewhere.”

  “Not an office, no, but I’m sure he was hoping I’d take over his business one day. I think the plan was that I get an Economics degree or go into Architecture or something so that at least I could be in the same industry. My sister’s definitely not interested in taking over so that leaves me.”

  “So, what do you want to do instead then? Train horses for other people or buy and sell your own?”

  “I don’t know, really, maybe a bit of both. I just know that they’re the best part of my day and I can’t see losing that to just ride for an hour after work every night or on the weekends. That’s not a life.”

  “Well, you’re good enough, Rob. You’re as good a rider as Liza—”

  “Hardly,” he laughed, “but maybe I’ll get there one day. If I train hard enough.”

  “What about showing professionally? Maybe I could go to the Olympics for archery and you could go for eventing.”

  He laughed again, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked at me.

  “That’s a nice dream; if anything, it would be dressage. That’s what I want to focus on once I’ve graduated high school.”

  “Why not now?” I asked, already guessing the answer.

  “My dad loves watching me go cross-country, and he likes that crowd, he thinks dressage shows are too snooty. He supports me so much that it’s the least I can do since he’s driving me everywhere and pays for most of my riding. I don’t hate eventing, I just like dressage better, that’s all. It speaks to me somehow.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed, reaching down to scratch Red’s shoulder. I wished I felt that inspired by ring work right lately. I remembered how it used to feel. Every moment on Quarry had been like a journey unfolding, a secret language unravelling, brand new territory to explore. Everything had always felt so new and magical.

  But now it was different. I loved spending time with Red more than anything, but I just couldn’t seem to find the passion for dressage that I’d had before. I felt much happier being out in the woods with him or practicing on our archery course than I was trotting in circles in the ring.

  Back at the barn, we took turns hosing the horses down, making sure all the salty ocean water was cleaned off their legs before carefully drying them and putting them back into their paddocks.

  As soon as I unclipped his halter, Red arched his neck and pricked his ears at me, bobbing his nose expectantly, knowing our routine.

  “Okay, okay,” I laughed and handed him the carrot chunk I’d stashed in my grooming tote. “I didn’t forget.”

  He crunched it happily, dripping white and orange foam onto the fresh shavings, his eyes half-closed in bliss.

  “You hang out here while I finish my ride,” I whispered to him, running a finger down his blaze, “and then you can go out in the pasture for the rest of the day. Okay?”

  “You want Artimax next?” Rob called from the aisle, already knowing my answer.

  “Definitely. You’re taking Ferdi out?”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind taking him over a few of the lower jumps to stretch his legs. You up for that?”

  “Sure,” I said, slipping out of Red’s stall into the aisle. I wasn’t much of a jumper. It was fun enough popping over the low, natural logs that we’d set up in the woods around the property, but I didn’t get excited over it the way Rob and Nori did. After my first few nervous attempts when we’d first set up the course, I’d realized that Artimax knew what he was doing and I pretty much just had to sit there, stay balanced, and not get in his way.

  “Are you going to take care of me out there, buddy?” I said, moving into his borrowed stall. He was already waiting for me, eyes bright and ears pricked. Artimax was my favouri
te of Rob’s horses. He wasn’t very tall, but he had a huge powerful chest and hindquarters and an arched, well-muscled neck. He was a strange cross, part Warmblood and part Appaloosa, but, after a couple of years of conditioning, he’d ended up looking like a compact baroque horse, like an Andalusian or a Lusitano, but with striking white spots on his mottled grey coat. He had a lot of personality and had been a bit of a handful when Rob first bought him, but now he was a fun, dependable horse and I loved him.

  As usual, he couldn’t just stand still when I brushed him, he had to turn around and inspect each brush with his speckled pink nose, and softly bite the hoof pick, and check my pockets for treats whenever I moved within range of his searching lips.

  He bobbed his nose up and down appreciatively whenever I found an itchy spot and lifted each of his big feet helpfully for me to pick out before I even asked.

  “You’re such a funny guy,” I told him, giving him a hug around his neck and leading him from his stall, fully tacked up. I took him outside to the mounting block and climbed easily onto his back, crossing the stirrups over the front of his saddle and letting my legs drape lightly over his sides.

  Rob came out a few minutes later with his young chestnut gelding, Ferdi, who looked half-asleep. A year’s worth of gentle, steady schooling had built muscle in all the right places. Even at six, he still looked like a baby, but his chest had finally filled out so his mile-long legs looked more in proportion to his body and his well-muscled topline meant that he didn’t look so thin and reedy.

  The sun was climbing and all the cool morning air had pretty much evaporated. Bees hummed around us and a trio of small sap-suckers flew from tree to tree alongside the driveway, knocking at the bark in search of bugs.

  Over the summer I’d ridden our winding network of trails so often that it probably should have been boring by now. But I never got tired of it; each ride was an adventure.