The Charity (17 page)

“Heeyyyooo! Smokey! Heeyyyooo! Stop! Whoa! Whoa!” Jessica whirled Gapman to the edge of the ravine and yelled up at the shaking animal. At the sound of her voice, Smokey Mountain stopped his retreat and cocked his ears forward to listen to her familiar voice. Jessica could see Mr. Bleauvelt. He didn’t move.

Without another thought, Jessica brought Gapman out away from the edge and gave him all the rein he needed. She squeezed her legs together and urged him forward over the ravine.

“Stop!” John yelled, “Don’t be a fool! You’ll never make it back over!” He could see Jessica’s set expression. Her head never turned to his voice.

The jump to the low side of the ravine was easy. The distance the riders asked their horses to cover was little more than a stride of the big animals. Making such a jump from a higher point to a lower one was a simple task. But asking the horse to go back up was asking for more than a leap of faith. The site to guide a horse safely to land was over ten feet away and five feet up.

Gapman approached the edge of the ravine at a fast gallop. Jessica felt his body tense as he realized the feat she was asking him to do. From this access, Jessica could see the swirling waters below and wished she had not started the approach. Obstacles like the one she was about to ask Gapman to leap were meant for only the most seasoned, and foolish, of horse and rider teams. She barely knew Gapman’s abilities. She also knew that stopping at this point would send them both crashing down to their deaths.

Gapman cocked his ears back to listen to the voice of his friend. Jessica forced herself to sing the commands in a little three-note tune. Her voice cracked, and her mouth was dry.

Jessica’s heart sank as she felt Gapman pause at the edge.

“Come on, Gapman! COME ON!” Gapman sprang forward and sailed to the rock outcropping. The rock was bare of any dirt to land on, and his shod hooves slipped and skidded along its surface, unable to gain a hold. Jessica, voice strained but steady, kept talking to her horse and urged him forward. Finally, one of his hooves took hold, and he bounded over to the other horse.

Jessica quickly dismounted and knelt beside the fallen rider. Mr. Bleauvelt moaned in pain as she removed his leg from the stirrup.

“Hey. Fancy meeting you here,” Jessica joked as she carefully guided her hands over his legs, watching his face for signals of pain. From her years of experience on the ski patrol in Utah, she knew drawing a person into pleasant banter would help determine the existence or magnitude of head injuries and general shock.

“I don’t think you should move. You just had a nasty fall. John and Ruby can get help at the next check point for you.” Jessica gauged his responsiveness to her words and actions.

Mr. Bleauvelt winced in pain as he stood up. “No. I’ve got to finish this event. I have never not completed a hunt, and I won’t start now.” He brushed himself off and looked at Jessica then back to the ravine. “I thought you crossed?” He was bewildered and stunned. He looked at Smokey Mountain. “There’s no way that horse is going to make the leap. I guess I’m going to cross at the bridge.” He looked down and tested his weight on his leg. Color drained from his face as pain registered. “I’m sorry to cost the team all that time.” He brought his hand to his head.

Jessica reached her hands out and steadied the swaying man. “No. I’m worried about getting you help soon and jumping here is the fastest way. Smokey will take the leap for me, and I know Gapman thinks it’s just a walk in the park. Are you Okay?”

“Yes. Fine. You’re sure Gapman won’t refuse to jump like Smokey?”

“Positive. Let’s trade horses for the ravine jump, and you can ride Gapman the rest of the way back. We’re almost done with the course.” She assessed the stunned man critically. “If you’re up to it we can go.” Jessica ran her hands over Smokey Mountain’s legs to make sure they were not injured.

“I said I’m fine. Just a little shaken up. I’ve taken worse falls. My ankle hurts, but it won’t impact my riding. My head will clear as we ride.” No further argument would be tolerated.

Without wasting any more time, she helped him mount up on Gapman and adjusted his stirrups. Smokey Mountain stiffened in confusion at the change of riders. Ignoring the gray, Jessica gave some simple instructions and was pleased to see Gapman sail over the chasm again for his new rider. From her vantage point, she could see how much the horse loved what he was being asked to do. Jessica felt a flash of pride for the animal.

She brought Smokey Mountain up to the ravine on a right approach. Coaxing him with her legs and voice, she made it known no more attitude would be sanctioned by her. His tail twitched once in defiance, but he made the leap easily.

Jessica gave both horses a big hug and a rub on their necks. All four riders quickly rode for the course flags spotted earlier by Ruby.

Another twenty minutes of riding down the hillside brought them to the final stretch to the finish line. This portion of the course was along the far end of the meadow and was set with several smaller obstacles to give the spectators something to watch as the teams finished the pace.

The Royal Blue team entered the clearing and heard the crowd swell with applause and cheers. On Mr. Bleauvelt’s signal, they took the jumps two abreast and urged their horses forward to a gallop. It was a stunning sight and all riders were beaming with pleasure when they crossed the finish line.

Jessica dismounted and quickly went over to Bleauvelt. She helped the injured rider down and motioned for someone to get the field doctor.

In seconds, she was surrounded by a number of people, each performing their assigned task for the day. The horses were led away by grooms for cooling down and proper care. The field medics gently assisted Mr. Bleauvelt away, with grave ceremony. Others tended to the riders. John handed her a wet towel, and she used it to wipe her face clean of the dirt she had accumulated over the day. She looked anxiously over to where Mr. Bleauvelt had been brought by the doctor and several others.

“He really took a bad hit. I hope he’s going to be okay.” She looked at John and Ruby and gave a sly smile. “Aside from that, it was a pretty fun day, eh?” The three team members stood together and grinned like children. They were ushered into a small tent and given glasses of sherry. Jessica, unaware, drank her sherry in one gulp.

“AH! I thought that was water!” She sputtered and laughed at herself and others joined in the merriment.

“Quick! Give this girl more ‘water’!” John shouted with mock urgency. They laughed again as Jessica’s eyes misted.

They had to wait a while before all of the other teams finished the course. Jessica looked anxiously for Percival’s Proper Purple and was pleased to see them canter easily across the finish line. After the initial flurry of attendants were through with them, Jessica caught Hoyt’s and ClaireAnne’s eye and motioned them over to where she was standing.

Hoyt was exuberant. “What a day! What a beautiful ride that was! Didn’t that view from the ridge just take your breath away? Gapman! How was he? Ya’ll just have to tell me everything!”

Hoyt and ClaireAnne downed several sherries while Jessica gave them a briefing on the event.

“Gawd, child! Your team jumped over the ravine!” Hoyt gasped and sputtered.

“Well, um,” Jessica responded contritely, “the whole team jumped down, but Gapman made the jump back up for me.”

“Sweet Suzanne in Savannah!” Hoyt’s eyes darted to his horse to make sure Gapman was indeed safe.

“Tess! You could have gotten both of you killed! What were you thinking?” ClaireAnne asked in disbelief.

“I really am sorry I took a risk like that with someone else’s horse,” Jessica kept her eyes glued to her boots, “but Mr. Bleauvelt gave Smokey Mountain a bad approach and Smokey gave him a pretty bad fall. My only thought was to get him some help. But you know, in a way it was worth it just to see for myself Gapman leap that ravine. Hoyt, you have a real champion there. He has a huge heart and loves the rough stuff.” She paused and gave the Percivals a wicked look out of the corner of her eye. “And besides, Chad Bleauvelt now owes you. Big time.”

“The snobby Bleauvelt paying homage to a humble hardware store owner. That’s more than perfect!” Hoyt gave ClaireAnne a boisterous bear hug.

John and Ruby walked over to the smiling trio. “They are going to give the awards soon. Chad won’t leave to get an x-ray of his foot until he finds out who won. And even then he swears that he’s going to go to the party tonight. He’s as crazy and stubborn as ever.” John looked at Hoyt and complimented him on Gapman. “That is one of the finest horses I have had the pleasure of working with. I certainly hope his trainer will have time to work with my old hacks.” He glowed. “You did some fine work out there today, Miss White.”

Jessica smiled at the lanky gentleman. “I would love to work with River’s Edge and Maison Dixon. Thank you.”

“Hoyt? Miss White?” John addressed them both seriously. “I don’t want to sound insincere in the least. But what I witnessed today was incredible. I am honored to have been at the beginning of a legend.”

Before Jessica had a chance to protest, the crowd ushered them into the larger tent. On the podium was a generously proportioned older woman dressed in a smart blue gabardine dress, an expensive pearl necklace and a hat. She wore a scarlet banner across her chest indicating that she was the Harvest Hunter Pace Marshal. To her left was a man of similar build dressed in fine tweeds and gray flannel trousers. To any casual onlooker, they were certainly a man and wife who grounded themselves and their life in the horse world and community.

From the way the woman surveyed the crowd, Jessica guessed she was an old hand at this. Jessica recognized the people the woman was speaking with as the starting official and several other course checkers. To the right of the podium was a table where the trophies and plaques for the day were displayed.

The older woman tapped the microphone and noisily cleared her throat to get the attention of the crowd.

“Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen. I know those of you who rode today are tired and sore. Let me speak for everyone else, we all are sore just watching you!” A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd. “So let me get to the point. Today’s Harvest Hunter Pace enjoyed one of the largest turnouts in its history and one of its toughest courses yet. I am quite pleased to tell you, however, that today’s winners set a new course record.” The Marshal raised her hand to quiet the buzz that went up in the audience. She spoke a while more about the day, past hunter paces and other anecdotes and the crowd certainly enjoyed its host. After a few minutes, she paused. “Now without further delay, I am pleased to announce the winners of today’s Hunt.”

In keeping with tradition, she read the last place names first. It was the custom for this event to award the top ten teams, leaving the suspense for the end when the winners’ names would be read. Hoyt and Jessica enjoyed watching the reactions of the winners as they went up to collect their trophies. Some did so with great pride and excitement, and others did so graciously, but trying to hide the disappointment of a ride that fell short of expectations.

Jessica had allowed her mind to wander to the chores she had to do back at her farm. She was tired and looking forward to a long hot bath when she felt someone pulling at her arm.

“Tess! Tess! Go on! Get up there! Ya did it! The Royal Blue Team won!” Hoyt was beside himself with excitement. He practically dragged Jessica to the podium.

Jessica stared at her other team members in disbelief. Mr. Bleauvelt had come on to the stage supported by two ancient wooden crutches. His right leg was wrapped in a bandage, and his left cheek was red and badly swollen. At this moment, pain was the farthest thing from his mind.

Chad Bleauvelt was jubilant accepting his trophy. As team leader, his trophy was the largest, with the other three trophies being slightly smaller replicas of it. He shook the Marshal’s hands vigorously and accepted the congratulatory kiss from her fondly. She turned and shook the hands of each of the other team members, pausing slightly to look Jessica in the eye. Flashes from one hundred cameras sparked around the crowd as it roared its approval. Cries of “Speech! Speech!” could be heard.

Mr. Bleauvelt gripped the microphone and looked around the tent. He took a deep breath and began to talk but was overcome with emotion. Instead of making the grand speech he had dreamed of, he croaked out a thank you to his team members and to their horses. He was about to step down when another thought came to him.

“I do have to make a special mention of Hoyt Percival and Tess White. Without Hoyt’s generous loaning of his horse, Gapman, to our team, and without the expert training and fearless riding of Miss White, we would not have won today.” He paused and looked at Jessica with a smile. “It is even quite possible that I would still be out on the course!” The crowd laughed and cheered at the four tired riders. Lights flashed as cameras recorded the winners of yet another Harvest Hunter Pace. Several people helped Mr. Bleauvelt down from the podium and into a waiting car. He finally relented to go for an x-ray of his leg.

Jessica waved at him as the car pulled away from the curb. “Ya know ya’ll see that ol’ coot at the party tonight, don’t you?” Jessica turned and looked up at Hoyt.

“Party? I hadn’t heard of any party,” she lied. Most of the talk surrounding the day revolved around who was going and what to wear. The thought of going to something big and glitzy did not appeal to her. “Besides, I’m bushed. I’m just going back to my farm and relax after I check on Gapman.”

“Sorry there, Tess, but ya’ll don’t have a choice about that party. This is Electra Lavielle’s biggest event of the year given to celebrate another successful Harvest Hunter Pace. Why you and the Royal Blue team are to be the guests of honor! It’s tradition around here for everyone to go. Why, I’ve e’en rented myself a Tux! ClaireAnne just about died thinking I’d be the only guy there in a sports jacket.”

“This is black tie? Oh, God no. I definitely can’t go.” Her years of working as a ski bum and ranch hand did not present her with an occasion to buy anything even remotely resembling formal attire. Jessica winced at the thought of going to some stuffy ball in a pair of jeans. “No. I’ll send along my regrets to Mrs. Lavielle.”