Free Winter Circuit (The Show Circuit -- Book 2) by Kim Ablon Whitney

as you’re here in the morning when I need you.”
    “Of course,” I said.
    The last thing Linda showed me was the car and golf cart at my disposal. The car was a black Jeep. She handed me the keys and told me to keep my receipts for gas to get reimbursed.
    “Okay, take the rest of the day to settle in. Tomorrow morning you can start getting up to speed on the routine with the horses and I could use your help running errands.”
    “Of course,” I said. “Great.”
    I texted Chris that I was through for the day and that I’d love to come over to see his barn. He gave me directions via golf cart. His barn was not in Grand Prix Village, a fact I was slightly surprised by.
    I found my way, passing other golf carts, cars, and a few riders on horses. I went slow, looking at every gorgeous barn I passed. There were paddocks by the road and occasionally I could see through to a ring or grass jump field. There was one huge jump field that I had a good view of with the fences set incredibly high. A few riders were cantering around and a very famous trainer that even I recognized from afar was standing in the middle teaching. His voice reverberated over a microphone system.
    Once out of the back gate of Grand Prix Village, the farms didn’t look as impressive. They didn’t have formidable gates and weren’t as landscaped. I felt sort of like I’d crossed the proverbial tracks to the place where the other half lived. I knew I had found the right barn because Jasper came running out barking. I would have been scared of him if I hadn’t known it was all bluster.
    “It’s just me, Jas,” I told him.
    He gave me a small tail wag and slight nuzzle, which was a pretty warm reception for the dog whose sun set and rose on one person only: Chris. At least he remembered me.
    To be honest, compared to the Pearces’, Chris’s barn looked pretty shabby. It was just a simple one aisle barn with ten stalls and a ring. There were patches of sand where there should have been grass and the ring itself had only a calf-high fence around it—no impressive hedges. A giant mirror stood on one side of the ring, which seemed odd. But, of course, the barn was still immaculate. Chris ran a tight ship. It might not be a fancy ship, apparently, but it was still a tight ship with blankets folded neatly on stall doors and the aisle swept clean.
    As excited as I had been to see Chris at the airport, I was almost equally as excited to see Logan. I hadn’t seen him since he’d gotten on the trailer in Vermont. The horse I had almost detested at the beginning of the summer circuit had become my greatest friend.
    Dale was organizing a tack trunk that probably didn’t need to be organized. But Dale didn’t sit still. Ever. I tried to be cheerful, hoping he’d give me even half as warm a reception as Jasper had. “Hi, Dale,” I chirped and then wished I’d sounded a little less chipper.
    He moved his chin a millimeter in my general direction. Didn’t even speak. I didn’t warrant enough breath to make words. Why did Dale hate me? Was it because I was a complete outsider to this sport? Had he been as chilly to Mary Beth?
    “What’s with the mirror by the ring?” I asked.
    He shook his head like I was a total idiot for not knowing. “Used to be a dressage farm.”
    Chris must have known I’d want to see Logan because he took me right to his stall. Jasper followed us faithfully. Logan was eating his hay. I opened his door and said his name. He swung his head to look at me as he chewed. Did he recognize me? If only horses were like dogs and could wag their tails, do happy dances, or lick you. But that was the enigma of the horse. You weren’t ever truly sure how they felt about you. It wasn’t like I’d spent my whole life caring for him, either. Before Vermont, I’d only ridden him a few times a week. Then in Vermont I’d been his sole caretaker and from my end I’d felt we’d formed an amazing bond. We’d come together in the ring and