Free Blue Ribbon Champ by Marsha Hubler Page A

twelve
    A crystal-clear Saturday in August brought crowds of horse lovers to the Snyder County Fairgrounds for the annual horse show. Around a large, fenced oval, fancy-dressed dudes on glistening horses intermingled with parked trailers. Waiting their turn to ride, dozens of contestants tightened cinch straps on saddles, checked bridles and hooves of their mounts, and primped their own western clothes. Others who had already competed were relaxing on their mounts as they watched the show or were at their trailers untacking and pampering their horses.
    Cheering fans packed the grandstand while blaring speakers announced the next event. The aromas of barbecued chicken and funnel cakes intermingled with the smells of sweating horses and fresh manure as a cool breeze whisked across the field.
    Sitting on Champ outside the show ring, Skye cheered as Morgan and her dun mare, Blaze, raced around three barrels at lightning speed. Along the fence with Skye stood Mr. and Mrs. Chambers, Chad, Joey, and the otherKeystone Stables students, all in western clothes and all screaming their heads off.
    Skye looked sharp in her suede Stetson leveled to her eyebrows with her dark hair drawn back in a tight bun. A leather-fringed vest covered a purple-checkered shirt. A black necktie, cowhide gloves, blue jeans, chaps, and polished black boots made Skye a perfect match for her mount.
    Champ’s black bridle with purple browband set off a leather-cut black saddle. The poncho roll highlighted his copper coat and silky mane and tail. The Quarter Horse’s rippling muscles glistened with a lather of sweat as he stood puffing and nodding his head. On the cheek strap of his bridle hung a blue ribbon.
    As she watched Morgan compete, Skye caught a glimpse of a familiar snooty face on the opposite side of the ring. Sitting on a golden Palomino near the fence was Hannah Gilbert in the finest western duds money could buy. Her long blonde curls flowed from under a powder blue Stetson garnished with shiny medallions. I’m glad she’s way over there, Skye thought, and she can stay there.
    Morgan cut Blaze around the last barrel, raced out of the ring, and headed toward Keystone’s group.
    “Twenty seconds flat for Morgan Hendricks!” the loudspeaker announced. “That’s good enough for second place!”
    A round of applause exploded from the grandstand, followed by another announcement. “Attention! All you special cowpokes out there, the Special-Needs Beginners’ Western Pleasure class is coming up in about ten minutes, so get your horses ready. But right now, our next barrel racer is Sam Fowler on Tomahawk, a registered Paint.”
    Mr. Chambers greeted Morgan and Blaze. Grabbing the bridle, he patted the horse’s neck. “That was a darngood ride, Morgan. You cut each barrel clean as a whistle. Nice job.”
    Mrs. Chambers joined him. “That was a great run, Morgan.”
    “Thanks,” Morgan said. “Blaze was at her best today. I’ll be happy with a second.” She glanced back at the ring to watch the next racer.
    “It seems that lately our favorite colors are red and blue,” Skye said to Morgan.
    Morgan giggled. “Well, if nothing else, we’re patriotic!”
    Mr. Chambers turned toward Keystone’s horse trailer. “We need to get Joey and Bucky ready for their class.”
    “I’ll stay here with the other students,” Mrs. Chambers said.
    “I’ll be right here watching the other racers.” Morgan started to maneuver her horse closer to the fence.
    “Mr. C., I’ll help you get Bucky ready,” Chad said.
    Skye backed her horse away from the fence and pivoted him toward the trailer. “I think I’ll give Champ the rest of the afternoon off. He deserves it.” She patted her horse’s neck, slid off his back, and led him next to Mr. Chambers and Chad.
    “Joey, come with us,” Mr. Chambers said.
    “I’m comin’, Mr. C.!” Joey ran toward Mr. Chambers.
    At the trailer, Mr. Chambers backed Bucky, already saddled, down the trailer ramp.