{ A / N - Another horse story! Hope y'all vote, comment and enjoy. }
{ A / N - I recently posted a new story called 'All We Have Is Now.' It's not a horse story but I do believe it's better than this one, so if anyone reading this checked out my new story, I would greatly appreciate it. }
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Adrenalin flooded through my veins as I entered the arena. The roar of the crowd threatened to deafen me as I urged the gelding forward into a canter, trying to keep my hands light and steady on the reins. Organised Chaos was a sensitive horse, and I couldn't infect him with my nerves.
As the crowd began to settle, I cantered the talented mount around the arena to let him eye the jumps. The course was complex and the jumps were intimidating, but my future depended on this clear round. One pole would cost me my place in the qualifying table for Rolex Kentucky Three Day Event – an infamous world-class equestrian event I'd dreamed of competing at my entire life.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to the final phase of Southern Pines Horse Trials. Our next rider to tackle this demanding three-star show jumping course is twenty one year-old Madison Evans and her experienced eighteen year-old mount, Organised Chaos," the commentator's voice crackled over the loudspeaker, filling the space in the arena and bouncing back across it.
Organised Chaos, affectionately known as Harry, arched his muscular bay neck over the bit and leaned into my contact. He was in top form, and confidence radiated from every stride, which only sparked assurance in me, too. The first bell pierced my ears, signalling we had less than a minute to start our round. If we didn't begin before that, we would be disqualified.
I kicked the gelding on firmly, and he broke into a powerful canter through the start flags. Focus gripped me as I set my gaze securely on the daunting first fence before us. The crowd fell silent, watching my every move in anticipation. My heart pounded in my chest and I could feel my pulse resonating through my fingertips.
"Easy, Harry," I murmured to the gelding. He snorted, the sound vibrating through his whole body, as he launched himself into the air with a sheer rush of power. A fleeting sense of freedom pushed out every emotion in my body as we cruised over the first fence, injecting hope and excitement into my bloodstream. As we landed, I was brought back to reality and immediately shifted my concentration onto the second fence, an innocent-looking vertical.
Harry was an experienced mount with endless scope and a heart that kept on giving. Even though I was a relatively new competitor in international eventing, he was a very rideable horse and loved his job. I didn't have to ask twice for him to pop over the next vertical effortlessly with his ears pricked.
Surging towards the next fence, I sat quietly in the saddle and allowed Harry to move forward and carry me over the fences without interfering. He appreciated my light yet steady grip on the reins as we powered around the course effortlessly, flicking his fetlocks clear of every fence.
I collected him as we approached the double combination. The fences were painted in vibrant colours that threatened to encourage the horses to back off instead of taking their rider nicely into the fence. But what Harry lacked in courage, he made up for in heart and eased over the combination soundly once I urged him forward with firm aids.
After the combination, just one oxer separated us from the crucial qualifying points I needed to attain if I was to make my dream come true and earn a place at Kentucky Horse Trials. I could feel my heartbeat rattling my ribcage, pulsing through my fingertips, pounding at the back of my throat. The pressure burned in the lining of my skin.
The gelding was beginning to flatten and sweat soaked his neck. Lingering exhaustion from the draining cross-country round yesterday was beginning to place strain on him; he was starting to fall heavy in my hands. And unfortunately, the oxer was on the other side of the arena. I kicked the gelding on, murmuring words of encouragement under my breath.
Each stride was accompanied by a heaving breath from the tiring horse beneath me until the oxer loomed before us, intimidating and vast. Harry hesitated, the usual smoothness in his stride wavering and his movement beginning to fall backwards. Panic enveloped me in an icy embrace and I pushed the gelding on frantically, too busy worrying about his backwards motion to count the strides.
We took off on the wrong striding too far away from the fence, and Harry shuddered uncertainly as he propelled himself into the air. The strands of time seemed to stretch out as we hovered in the air. For a moment, I grasped onto the wavering hope that we could still make it home and clear.
But disappointment drowned my misplaced hope as Harry failed to clear the fence. The oxer was already set up at maximum width, and with our premature launch Harry was unable to cover the distance. He fell into the middle of the oxer, the poles crashing violently as the fence collapsed around us. Our landing was crooked and we sloped downwards drastically on our descent. As we came in contact with the ground, Harry's front legs slipped from beneath him and he let out a strangled groan. I was chucked forward in the saddle and thrown over his neck.
The hard ground rushed up to meet me and the impact resounded through my whole body. For a moment, I lay there and closed my eyes, tasting the metallic taste of blood in my mouth and squinting into the darkness behind my eyelids. In that moment, I knew that my dreams had crumbled with the oxer. My heart felt as if it was suffocating.
Above the deafening sound of my heart pounding, I could hear a rising cacophony of anxious murmurs from the crowd. I inhaled deeply and pushed myself to my feet, dusting dirt off my white show jodhpurs. My gaze found the scoreboard which was pinned above the grandstand, and beside my name the devastating word 'eliminated' blinked in bold orange lettering.
But before the heavy weight of disappointment could smother me, fear seeped into my veins. Harry remained on the floor, his forelegs bent beneath him, surrounded by the poles of the demolished fence. He still hadn't made any attempt to move.
"Harry," I tried to keep my voice steady and reassuring, but panic crawled into my tone. If he couldn't even stand up by himself, he'd obviously acquired a serious injury. "Come on, boy. It's okay. You can get up now."
I untangled the reins from the knot they'd formed around his neck and tugged at them lightly. Harry let out a breathless snort and rose shakily to his feet. He'd cut both of his knees badly, and blood was beginning to pour from the gashes in his skin. His head hung low and he leaned towards me as if willing me to help him support himself.
"Come on, Harry," I soothed, running a hand down his soaking neck. "It's okay."
I took a tentative step backward. Harry snorted again, not making any effort to move. I inched away again, attempting to assess the extent of the gelding's injuries. If he couldn't even move, it meant the fall had cost a lot more than a few fallen poles.
The reins stretched out tautly between us as I continued edging away from the gelding, until he finally placed a faltering foot forward and hobbled over to me. A strangled sob rose in my throat. Blood stained his toned black legs and the whites of his eyes were showing. Although I was unable to identify Harry's injury, I knew it was severe.
"Unfortunately, an excellent round ended in a nasty fall at the final oxer and has resulted in elimination for Madison Evans. However, I'm sure she'll be more worried about her horse at the current moment in time, who seems to be struggling to walk," the commentator's tone was solemn, and I registered his words hazily. The world around me seemed blurred around the edges and intangible, like a twisted version of reality. A nightmare.
Suddenly, a team of vets were swarming around me. They took the reins from me and instantly began bandaging Harry's knees, working with an efficient air and grave words fluttering between them. Fear churned in the pit of my stomach as I watched helplessly, hopelessly. I held Harry's elegant head in my arms, murmuring soothing words to the gelding.
"We need to clear him from the arena now, Miss Evans," one of the vets said. His dark locks were peppered with grey hairs, and he looked undeniably sombre.
I stole another glance at the scoreboard. Eliminated. My dreams of competing at Kentucky Horse Trials had crumbled with that final fence, and so had my horse.
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It felt like waking up from a dream. Cold, brutal reality was a crushing weight on my chest as the reverie dissolved into a nightmare. For years, I'd trained at the prestigious Belmont Equestrian Centre which offered me world-class warmbloods, advanced facilities and experienced tuition. Yet, success in the harsh world of equestrian had always been a distant dream; ambitions of becoming an international event rider being stashed in several horses who had never quite carried me to the victory I crave. But the only horse who had the potential to help me achieve what I'd been dreaming of since a little girl, competing at the infamous Kentucky Four Star event, shattered his cannon bone just weeks before the event – shattering my dreams with it.
"What? He can't be! I...he...he only stumbled," words evaded my grasp when the vet broke the bad news. Tears burned threateningly behind my eyes. It couldn't end like this, it just couldn't.
"He fell pretty badly, Miss Evans. His knees alone will need a few weeks to heal, but the fractured cannon bone may put him out of top-level competition permanently – especially as he's not a young horse. I know it's devastating, but he will make a complete recovery in a couple of months if surgery goes well," the vet's tone was composed but sparked no reassurance within me.
"Surgery?" my voice cracked at the thought of the gelding having to endure yet more pain, all due to me.
"Yes. He will need to be operated on as soon as possible. After that, we'll put him on box rest for a few weeks and give him some shockwave therapy to help the cannon reabsorb."
The technical terms floated around my head, mingling with the fear and disappointment and panic which were already clouding my thoughts. It seemed like nothing more than bad luck that Harry's injury was so severe. Bad luck and my riding error. It was my fault that Harry was in so much pain. After everything the gelding had done for me over the past few years, this was how I repaid him. Guilt forced tears to spill from my eyes and sparked fiery anger towards myself.
"How...long exactly will it take to heal?" my voice escaped barely above a whisper.
"With the right medicine, care and regular check-ups, I reckon it will take at least six weeks. I'm afraid competing at Kentucky Horse Trials is out of the equation. And if you factor in the horse's age, I would recommend retiring him from top level competition entirely."
Even though I was already aware of the bitter truth, hearing the vet utter the undeniable words caused my heart to shatter into thousands of broken fragments in my chest once again. The shards lodged themselves in my ribcage, buried between the pieces of my crushed dreams and suffocating guilt.
The pressure of a warm hand against my shoulder momentarily distracted me from the weight of my pain. Eyes fogged with tears, I blinked at the blurred figure of Belmont Equestrian Centre's head instructor and former international eventing superstar, Holly Wayman.
"If you don't mind, Doctor...I'm going to have to steal Madison," she said, her tone as calm and assertive as ever. The vet nodded stiffly and Holly steered me away from him, her hand still on my shoulder. She led me to Harry's stable, where the gelding had both forelegs swathed in bandages and his head hanging low. Slowly, I unbolted the stable and slipped inside.
"Harry," I cooed. He didn't look up, even when I traced my hands down his toned neck and buried my face in his thick black mane. The bittersweet scent of horse sweat and fresh straw was familiar, and oddly reassuring.
"Madison," Holly addressed me.
"Why is this happening?" my sobs were muffled by Harry's mane. "We were so close."
"Madison-" Holly started again.
"And it's all my fault. It's all because of a stupid riding error," I choked. "If I hadn't been so careless..."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. It could've happened to anyone, even the most experienced of riders," Holly reassured.
"Harry has been an absolute dream mount for me, and this is how I repay him? This is how it ends?"
"Madison! If you'd let me get a word in, you'd realise that this isn't the end."
I stopped sobbing and lifted my face from Harry's now sodden mane to meet Holly's gaze.
"It may be the end of Harry's journey – for a while, at least – but it's not the end of yours."
"What do you mean?" Swimming amongst the pain and disappointment and guilt were tiny slivers of hope, and I grasped onto them like a life raft in a storm.
"I spoke to the officials and looked at the amount of points you've gained this season. You still just have enough points to qualify for Kentucky."
A roar of glee cruised through me, the spark of hope blossoming into something greater; more powerful. But it extinguished before it had the chance to fully form, the feeling of optimism battling with the reminder of disadvantage and the possibility of failure. It was fighting, and loosing.
The smile which contested for a place on my lips was pushed down by a frown. "But I don't have a horse to ride."
Holly waved a hand vaguely. "There's plenty of horses at Belmont."
"None are already at four-star level yet, or experienced enough," I highlighted.
"Then we'll get our sponsors to find you one. We'll find a horse, Madison. And if we don't, the qualification will be valid until next year's Kentucky, so we've got plenty of time."
The smile arose without fail now, flourishing into a beam. I felt a surge of hope and determination as my dreams, temporarily drowned in misfortune, rose to fight the tides of disaster and emerge into reality.
I rubbed Harry's withers affectionately, and he managed to give a small nicker. "Did you hear that, Harry? This isn't the end...for either of us."