A Horse Show At Riverside
By eight o'clock, Riverside was already in full chaos. Trailers lined the drive, horses called from temporary stalls, and the warm-up ring was crowded with riders trying very hard to look as though they weren't watching everyone else. Merry stood just outside the dressage arena with a clipboard tucked against her hip, fielding questions from every direction.
"No, the second arena is running about ten minutes behind. Yes, you can use the far end of the warm-up. No, that isn't your number.
You're forty-seven."
The woman blinked at her. "Forty-seven?"
"Forty-seven."
"Oh. Thank you."
"Jim!" Merry called.
Jim was halfway across the yard, already talking to another outside rider.
"Office is through the main barn," he was saying. "Second door on the left. If you need your number changed, that's where you go."
"Where do we get our stall assignments?"
"Office."
"And the farrier?"
"Ask at the office. They'll have the list."
The woman thanked him and hurried off.
Jim looked over at Merry.
"How many more?"
"Don't ask."
"Fair enough."
At the ring gate, Marti was trying to keep the order of go moving while Eddie stood beside her, calmly dealing with the steady stream of riders and crew.
"Forty-three, you're next!" Marti called. "Forty-four, get ready!"
A rider hurried toward them. "I'm supposed to be in the next class. Do I need to check in again?"
Eddie glanced at the sheet in Marti's hand.
"No. You're already marked down. Just stay close to the gate."
"Thank you."
Another rider immediately appeared.
"Where do I go after I finish?"
"Out through the far gate," Eddie said.
"Not this one?"
"Not this one."
"Right."
Marti looked at him.
"Do you ever get tired of answering the same question?"
Eddie smiled.
"No."
"You're lying."
"A little."
Merry turned toward the warm-up.
"Margritte!"
Margritte was beside her horse at the mounting block, immaculate in her show clothes. Her helmet was already on, and she had the cool, concentrated expression she always wore before a test.
"You're on in twelve minutes," Merry called.
"I know."
"The warm-up is getting crowded."
"I noticed."
"Good. Then we're both informed."
Margritte smiled faintly and turned back to her horse
.
At Merry's elbow came a familiar voice.
"Mutti."
Merry didn't even look over.
"No."
Stefi sighed. "You don't even know what I want."
"I know that tone."
"What tone?"
"The one that means whatever you're about to say is going to become my problem."
"I lost my gloves." Stefi folded her arms.
"You what?" "I lost my gloves."
"My gloves."
"I heard you. I was hoping I hadn't."
"Mutti."
"You had them this morning. You put them somewhere."
"I know that, too."
"Where?"
Stefi frowned. "I'm not completely sure."
Merry stared at her.
"That is a remarkably unhelpful answer."
"I was busy."
"So was everyone else."
"I was helping with the horses."
"And?"
"And then I had to find my number."
"And?"
"And then I couldn't remember where I put the gloves."
Merry took a breath. "Where did you last see them?"
"By the mounting block."
"Go look."
"I already did."
"Then look again."
"Mutti."
"Stefi."
"They're not there."
"Then ask somebody."
"I did."
"Ask somebody else."
"Who?"
Merry pointed toward the yard. "Jim."
Stefi looked at him. Jim was now explaining the warm-up procedure to another competitor.
"He's busy."
"So am I."
Stefi sighed. "I'll ask Otto."
"Fine."
She started away.
"Stefi."
She turned.
"Check your trunk."
"I already did."
"Check it again."
"Mutti."
"Twice isn't going to kill you."
Stefi muttered something.
"What was that?"
"I said I love you."
"No, you didn't."
Stefi grinned. "I said I love you very much, Mutti."
"Go."
She disappeared toward the barn. Merry turned back toward the ring. Marti was calling the next numbers while Eddie held the gate open for a rider and checked the order sheet.
"Forty-five!"
A woman approached in a panic.
"I can't find my groom."
Eddie pointed toward the barns.
"Try the warm-up area first."
"Thank you."
"Forty-six!"
Jim appeared at Merry's shoulder.
"Someone's looking for the secretary."
"Send them to the office."
"Already did."
"Good."
Jim nodded and moved off toward another question. Merry almost smiled. The whole place seemed to be running on people handing problems to other people. Then she looked toward the warm-up.
Margritte's mare was moving beautifully—tense but listening, responsive through the transitions. Margritte worked quietly, making small adjustments rather than forcing anything. Merry watched. The rest of Riverside seemed to blur around the edges.
Then Marti's radio crackled. "Riverside to steward's table. We have a rider whose number has fallen off."
Behind her came a shout.
"Mutti!"
She turned. Stefi came running toward her, holding both gloves triumphantly over her head. "I found them!"
Merry stared. "Where?"
Stefi stopped. There was a pause.
"My coat pocket."
Merry looked at her.
"You aren't wearing your coat."
"I know."
"You weren't wearing it when you went looking."
"I know."
"Then how did they get in your coat pocket?"
Stefi shrugged.
"I must have put them there."
"Apparently."
"I told you I'd find them."
"You told me you didn't know where they were."
"Well, now I know."
Merry shook her head.
"You are fourteen years old."
"I've noticed."
"And someday, I expect you to become a completely organized human being."
"That sounds exhausting."
Merry tried not to smile. Stefi narrowed her eyes.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Laugh."
"I'm not laughing."
"You are doing the Mutti face."
"The what?"
"The face you make when you're trying not to laugh at me."
"I don't have a Mutti face." Merry finally laughed. "Go put your gloves on."
Stefi grinned.
"Love you, Mutti."
"Love you, too."
Stefi turned toward the barn. Three steps later she stopped.
"Mutti?"
Merry looked over.
"What?"
Stefi held up the gloves. "Which ones go on which hand?"
Merry stared at her. Stefi burst out laughing and ran away. Merry was still smiling when she turned back toward the arena.
Then she saw Margritte. The smile disappeared. It happened almost without thought. Merry's shoulders came back. She straightened from the slight slouch she'd fallen into during the morning's chaos and shifted the clipboard firmly beneath her arm. Her hand stopped fidgeting with the edge of the paper. Her feet planted themselves squarely beside the rail. She drew one slow breath.
Behind her, Marti called another number. Eddie answered a question. Jim was explaining something to an outside rider. Otto was doing the same somewhere near the barn. Merry didn't turn. Her eyes stayed on Margritte.
The mare came around the corner, her neck lifted, her stride elastic and deliberate. Margritte sat quietly, making the smallest adjustments with her hands. Merry leaned forward a fraction.
There. – a transition. The mare's hindquarters came underneath her, and Margritte's seat followed seamlessly.
Merry's fingers tightened around the clipboard. Not nervous. Focused.
She knew this horse. She knew this rider. She knew exactly how much work had gone into getting them here.
Now there was nothing left for Merry to do except watch.
Margritte brought the mare toward the entrance. Merry stepped closer to the rail. Their eyes met. Merry lifted one hand.
"Ride your test."
Margritte nodded. Merry lowered her hand slowly, but she didn't move back. She watched Margritte enter the arena, her own body still and grounded against the rail.
Behind her, Riverside continued to bustle. Merry never looked away.
(1232 words)