Alberta Simms studied the black clouds gathering overhead and hoped the rain would stay inside of them for just another few minutes. All day long the sky had swirled with indecision, but now it darkened with the inevitability of a massive downpour.
Easy does it, boy. There it was again. The voice. Her heart quickened. She examined the crowd at the horse show, her eyes darting from one person to the next, alert to every facial movement and gesture. Nothing. Was she imagining things?
Twice now, she’d thought she’d heard a mental transmission, but both times she hadn’t been able to locate the origin of the voice. It was unique, somehow. Was it a human, and not an animal, that she’d heard? She set her jaw. Forget it, she told herself. If it’s real, it’ll come again.
Alberta, or Bird as she was known, heard a distant rumble of thunder. She wondered if her sister’s class would have to be cancelled. Now her fingers were crossed.
Determined to remain undistracted by the weather or the voice, Bird leaned on the white rail fence and refocused her attention on the action in the show ring. Her younger sister, Julia, was doing a great job of steering her chestnut pony around the course of jumps. Theirs was the fastest time so far, and all the rails were still up. Julia had talked of nothing but showing since her first-place finish at the Palston Classic in June. Now it was August, and they were back for the Summer Summit.
It was the last class of the day, and Julia was the last rider. The skies blackened dramatically as the pair made the final turn into a line of jumps. Small raindrops were beginning to fall.
Earlier that day, Bird and her formidable horse, Sundancer, had won their class, setting high expectations for the other riders from Saddle Creek Farm. Bird replayed the moment in her mind with considerable pleasure. It had been close to a perfect ride. Sunny was responsive and brave, and Bird was on her game. Horse and rider were totally synchronized — listening and moving and thinking as one.
After that, though, the entire day had felt odd — ominous, even, with the weight of humidity and the threat of rain hovering. Red-haired Kimberly and her mare, Moonlight Sonata, had gone off course and were whistled out. Liz and Pastor had crashed through a jump. But perhaps the barn’s luck was about to change. If Julia and Sabrina kept this up, there’d be two firstplace ribbons for Saddle Creek Farm.
Sabrina, Julia’s pretty Welsh pony, was certainly intent on winning. Her tiny pointed ears strained forward and her mouth was tense with effort as she cantered over the blue and white oxer and took three quick strides to the red and green vertical. One stride, then over the yellow boards with her knees tucked up neatly under her chin. They landed safely and raced through the finish gate.
Julia’s face broke into a huge grin.
Bird slapped her sister’s calf when she trotted out of the ring. “Good job, Julia!” She gave Sabrina a pat on the neck. Good job, Sabrina! Did you have a little trouble on the far corner?
A huge flower popped up!
Bird smiled. A woman had opened her yellow umbrella just as Sabrina and Julia were cantering past. It might have seemed like a surprisingly big flower to the pony.
You did well to stay focused, Sabrina.
Think I’d spoil my ride because of a stupid flower?
Bird laughed out loud. Other horses would have spooked.
Julia slid off Sabrina and removed her helmet. “I wish Mom had stayed to watch that.”
Bird hugged her little sister. “She’ll wish she did when we tell her.” Eva had been around earlier in the day, but something had “come up” and she’d left before Julia’s class. Bird snorted. Probably a manicure or a shoe sale. Maybe lunch with a gossipy friend.
Big drops of rain landed on their heads. Julia looked up at the sky. “It’s really starting now.”
And start it did. Thunder rolled and the clouds let loose their burden. All around, people hurried for cover. Umbrellas opened and horses were dragged into trailers. People crowded under trees, dashed for their vehicles, and ducked under overhangs. Within seconds, Bird and Julia were soaked to the skin.
“Let it rain!” yelled Julia as they ran for the trailer with the pony. “I had the best time of my life out there!”
“I think you won first,” called Bird, running beside her.
You think? We won for sure! corrected Sabrina.
Bird dropped the rear ramp of the horse trailer, and Sabrina trotted right up beside the other horses. The sisters jumped in, and together they stood dripping as the rain pounded on the aluminum roof.
“Holy,” said Julia. “I’m glad this waited till we finished.” Bird nodded. “Yeah. Your ride would’ve been called off with this thunder.”
The rain was coming down so hard that a curtain of water streamed down the trailer door opening, inches from the girls. Julia put out her hand and squealed as water sprayed everywhere.
“Bring it on,” laughed Bird. “We couldn’t get wetter if we tried!”
That’s just stupid, commented Sundancer. The big chestnut gelding stood on the other side of Sabrina. I was perfectly dry until now.
Suck it up, Sunny, answered Bird. A little water never hurt anybody.
Tell that to a cat!
Sundancer always took an animal’s point of view, Bird observed. Where is everybody?
Moonie and Pastor are here in the trailer. Duh.
I can see that, smartass. I meant Aunt Hannah, Liz, and Kimberly.
They’re in the truck.
Bird spoke aloud to Julia. “Let’s go for it. When I count to three, get out. We’ll close up the trailer, run to the truck, and beat the rush out of here.”