Free High Hurdles Collection Two by Lauraine Snelling Page B

crossing her fingers behind her back. She’d always shown him who was boss, and still he dumped her.
    They moved to the end of the arena, and the pair began circling at a walk. Patches twitched his tail and laid back his ears once in a while but, other than that, shifted smoothly into a jog, then back to a walk.
    When the other rider using the ring exited, DJ motioned Mrs. Johnson to use the entire ring. “Just keep him at an even jog on the rail. Take a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth and relax your lower back.”
    But at the far corner, Patches threw up his head. With one leap, he tore around the arena. Ears back, bit in his teeth, Patches looked to be running straight into the fence.

Chapter • 8
    â€œTurn him into the center!”
    Mrs. Johnson hauled on the reins, and Patches swung into circling the ring. All of the other riders moved their horses out of the ring to keep from being smashed into.
    â€œThe center. Rein him into the center!” DJ shouted to be heard but kept her voice even. Her heart felt like it was jumping out of her chest.
    The whites of his eyes showing, Patches tore around the arena.
    â€œTurn him into the center!”
    Mrs. Johnson clung to the saddle horn with one hand. She pulled on the reins, but Patches ignored her.
    Around again.
    â€œRein him tight into the center. Pull on the inside rein!” DJ could hear the other riders. When one said, “I’ll go get her,” she was grateful to hear another tell him no.
    God, help her hear me. Calm her, please. Calm me! “Mrs. Johnson, rein Patches into the center of the arena!” DJ wanted to run to the rail and grab Patches’ reins herself, but she knew she or Mrs. Johnson or all three of them could get hurt that way. God, please keep her in the saddle .
    Patches circled the arena three times as DJ continued to call to his rider. Sweat dotted the horse’s neck, foam flicked backward from his bit. He charged on.
    â€œThe inside rein. Turn him to the inside!” DJ felt like a broken record. When was that fool horse going to run out of steam? How long could he keep from running into the railings?
    Mrs. Johnson let go of the saddle horn. She took the reins in both hands and pulled back on the inside rein as DJ ordered once again. Pulled into the tighter circle, Patches slowed. He came to a shuddering stop only three feet from DJ.
    DJ grabbed the reins right under the horse’s chin. She wanted to beat him over the head with anything she could pick up—maybe a two-by-four would get through his thick skull. Calling him every name she could think of in her mind, she looked up at the white-faced rider. “Why don’t you relax now and get your breath?”
    â€œWay to go, Mrs. J,” one of the other riders called. “You just made it through every rider’s nightmare.”
    â€œYou showed him who’s boss!”
    At DJ’s signal, the other riders moved off. She waited.
    Mrs. Johnson still clung to the saddle horn. Her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly reach up to wipe away the tears.
    â€œI … I’m s-s-sorry.”
    â€œYou have nothing to be sorry for. The idiot here spooked at nothing and got away with it.”
    Patches stood, sides heaving, nostrils flared so they glowed red. He snorted, blowing snot and foam all over DJ’s arm.
    â€œThanks, Patches, as if you haven’t done enough.” DJ talked to the horse, knowing Mrs. Johnson needed some time to recover.
    Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Johnson straightened her back and patted Patches’ neck. “If I never do that again, it will be too soon.” She shook her head. “I let myself get in too much of a rush and didn’t leave him on the hot walker as long as you suggested. This is all my own fault.”
    â€œBut you learned something.” DJ could hear Bridget’s words coming out of her own mouth.
    Mrs. Johnson nodded and sighed