Free On the Victory Trail by Marsha Hubler

“By this time — ”
    â€œAttention, ladies and gentlemen,” the loudspeaker blared, “all contestants for the Beginner’s Showmanship Class please line up at the east gate. Calling all contestants for the next event, the Beginner’s Showmanship Class.”
    Skye glanced at the grandstand again, looking for Chad. When she didn’t see him, she focused back on Sooze, whose pallid face portrayed a strange mixture of panic and courage.
    Sandwiched between the horse and the fence, Sooze fussed with Pepsi’s halter and arranged the horse’s banded mane one last time. Sooze’s blue Stetson sat squarely on top of her wig. A black necktie, red plaid shirt, jeans with a silver belt buckle, and black cowboy boots had totally changed her looks. Somehow, Sooze’s painfully thin frame looked stunning. Pepsi’s blood-bay coat shimmered, and her black tail had been groomed to silky perfection.
    â€œHow do you feel?” Skye asked Sooze.
    â€œLike I’m going to throw up.” Sooze made a face. “Not from the chemo. From my stomach doing back flips.”
    Mrs. Chambers walked to Pepsi and checked the halter buckle. “All I can say is thank the Lord your treatment was in the middle of last week. It gave your body time to recuperate. You do feel strong enough to do this, don’t you?” Mrs. Chambers looked into Sooze’s eyes.
    â€œI’m going in there if I have to crawl,” Sooze said nervously.
    Morgan laughed, stroking Blaze on the neck. “Hey, maybe you can start a Beginner’s Turtle Class!”
    A preoccupied Sooze shifted her attention to the gate. “I think I ought to go. They’re all lining up.”
    â€œLet’s say a quick prayer,” Mr. Chambers said when he finished checking the last of Pepsi’s hooves.
    While Mr. C. prayed, Skye watched Sooze with half-closed eyes. Her stare never wavered from the ring.
    A little prayer would help you right about now! Skye thought.
    â€œAmen,” Mr. Chambers finished. He and his wife backed away from Pepsi. “Now take your time, Sooze, and listen carefully to the judge.”
    â€œYeah,” Skye injected, “this is no time to be doing your own thing. Be cool.”
    â€œI don’t have enough energy to do my own thing, thank you,” Sooze joked while leading the horse away. “Pepsi will do her own thing, and we’ll be back with a blue ribbon. You’ll see.”
    â€œCareful, and don’t rush!” Mrs. Chambers called.
    â€œAnd try to get in the center, right in front of the judge when you line up,” Morgan yelled. “Let him get a real good look at one gorgeous hunk of horse flesh!”
    Sooze led Pepsi toward the gate at the other end of the corral. The big, bold number “17” on Sooze’s back distinguished her from the rest of the intermingling pack.
    â€œFive — no, six others,” Skye said, pointing. She tugged the reins and turned Champ toward the ring. “A piece of cake for Pepsi.”
    Mrs. Chambers leaned over the top rail of the fence. “It all depends on Sooze. Pepsi’s got the confirmation to win this class hands down, but I’m not sure Sooze is thinking straight. Tom, did you get a good look at her eyes? She’s been into her pain pills again. I should have locked them up. This morning I noticed they’re disappearing faster than cotton candy,” she said seriously.
    â€œYeah, I noticed too,” Mr. Chambers agreed as he squared his Stetson. “This is no time to be taking a trip without your horse. I think she’s going to learn a good lesson — but it breaks my heart.”
    â€œLook at her butting into the center of the pack.” Morgan said. “I didn’t mean for her to do it that way. I bet she never even said excuse me.”
    Skye sighed and shook her head in agreement as she studied the contestants leading their horses single file into