Tough Love (Rosewood Ranch #1)

Prologue

ADDY

2016

Pre-Olympic Show Jumping Qualifiers

J ewls prances under seat, as nervous as I am. All one thousand pounds of bay mare, lit and ready to go. We have been together every day for five years. I trust her. She trusts me. I shorten the reins and scope the course quickly, one last time. The water jump will be our pinch point before the sharp turn to the triple.

“And our final rider of the day, nineteen-year-old Adeline Howard, with her mare, Jewel of the Nile. This magnificent duo has taken the competition by storm this year, folks, the combination to watch today.” The commentator talks us up, like I haven’t worked for over a decade to come this far. The early mornings, the broken bones. The losses, some more heart-wrenching than others.

Last rider out is a big deal. In show jumping, they always save the best for last. I squash down the imposter syndrome that has been creeping its way up ever since I saw the order list. That little voice in my head that tells me this isn’t real, I’m not that good, and soon everyone is going to see it.

The horn blows, blasting through my ears.

I shift forward in the saddle, the only cue Jewls needs, and she takes off toward the first jump. I hold my breath.

“And they’re off!”

We power for the jump, and I pace her back a little, pulling back on the reins. We sail over the top rail.

Clear.

I force myself to breathe, pacing my own body as I do hers. Her half-Arabian bloodline pushes her faster than we need some days. The stadium lights are glaring. The crowd waits with bated breath. Only murmurs poke through the heavy silence as they wait for Jewls and I to either fly or fall. This round determines who goes to the Olympics. The next few minutes define other riders’ fates, not only mine.

The next jump is across the damp sand arena, the double. She pops her head. I shorten her stride.

“Steady, girl.”

I’m up out of the saddle as she takes off for the top rail. We sail over and she lands, square. Good girl.

I pat her neck, and we take off toward the third set. Then the next and the next. The only sounds are her hooves, her breathing, my soft words. I glance at the giant red digital clock. Shit, we are behind time. I give Jewls her head, and she picks up the pace. We have run these courses together hundreds of times. She knows every move I make. Knows when we are good and when we’re not.

Four jumps left. We soar toward the hedge. Up and over, her back legs trail through the hedge. She flinches. Okay, not a big deal. We will steady the lead up to the next one. Another double.

Jewls moves underneath me; her stride is jerky. Something’s not right.

I push her forward.

She takes the first set of the double. We land off-kilter, and she makes for the second, too early. We clip the top rail. The crowd gasps. If it falls, we won’t have the points to come in first. I steady her, leaning back to slow her down. I shorten the reins again. The water jump is next.

Jewls tosses her head. Her dark eye flicks to mine.

I glance at the clock. Another second too slow.

My gut sinks.

I push her ahead. A strangled whinny leaves with her breath, but she bursts toward the water. I set the pace and loosen the reins as she launches over the blue plastic wave at the start of the jump. The water on the other side glistens. Jewls tenses midair. I brace for a hard landing.

But she hits the ground with a solid stride. I turn her for the hairpin, and she tosses her head again.

“It’s okay, girl. Easy.”

She nickers, snorting a breath.

Something has her riled up. Her tail flings side to side, erratically.

One last jump.

The triple.

I give her more rein, and we pick up pace. Every stride now, she grunts a breath. Sand flies out from under her back feet. I shorten her stride and push out of the saddle. She launches at the poles, but her body flails sideways. Blood and spit fling from her muzzle.

What the hell?!

“Jewls!”

I tighten my legs around her. She smashes into the poles. They clatter to the ground as we tumble through them and toward the ground. Her head plows into the sand. I lurch forward. My foot is stuck in the right stirrup as she rolls. My back slams into the sand. Air rushes from my lungs. My head bounces, rattling in the helmet.

The lights of the stadium ceiling flood my vision. Silence presses down.

Then screams and shouting grow, echoing around me. Jewls jerks and rolls, still pinning me to the ground. My hip bone cracks. Pain floods my body, consuming it whole. Ringing in my ears drowns the crowd’s frantic roar. A shallow breath burns its way into my lungs. Pain lances through my ribs. My body is fuzzy, my right leg numb.

Then Jewls stills.

I snap my head to the side, searching for movement.

Something thuds. The pole from the double has fallen to the ground.

Limp, Jewls lays on top of me, unmoving.

No!!

“Jewls!”

Tears burn my eyes and roll down my cheeks. A shadow appears overhead.

Men file in around Jewls and me. Hands steady my neck.

“Addy! Oh no!” Mom’s voice slips through the ruckus. Her hand touches my cheek. Five men lift and roll Jewls from my crushed leg and hip. Fire courses through every inch of flesh and vein. My foot drops from the hung-up stirrup.

Darkness.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Whoosh. Whir.

Soft voices.

Tight blankets and warmth.

I force my eyes open... and the world spins.

“Mom?” I choke.

She stands by the hospital room door with a man in a white coat.

“Adeline was lucky to get out of that accident, Mrs. Howard. Her injuries could have been far worse. If the horse had rolled over her completely, she wouldn’t be here.”

I swallow.

Jewls.

Emotion closes over my throat. I grip the blanket at my sides, and something stings in my right wrist. I lift it. An IV.

“Your daughter is young. She could make a full recovery with the right physical therapy. But I doubt she will have a show-jumping career from this point onward.”

The white room and bar windows of the hospital room close in on me.

Footsteps clack toward where they stand in the doorway. Dad appears. His face is twisted, sadness lining his eyes. He shakes his head.

“Oh Jesus, she is going to be so devastated, Logan.”

Dad pulls Mom into a hug, and her shoulders shake.

“The horse?” the doctor asks, but he looks down at his clipboard.

Dad stares at him. “Snake bite. She was gone before we even got Addy out from under her.”

“How the hell does that happen?” Mom pushes out of Dad’s arms.

“It was in the bloody hedge jump. The course builders figure it came in for the water and hid in the hedge. Addy and Jewel were the last ones over that jump. It would have been good and riled up after twenty-odd horses disturbed it. Was a taipan.”

“At least it was quick.” Mom’s words are barely there.

I knew something was up with Jewls, and I pushed her anyway. My chin wobbles and tears burn down my cheeks. My poor girl. She trusted me, and I didn’t listen.

Mom sighs, folding her arms over her chest. “The doctor was saying Addy will need physical therapy to get back on her feet. No more jumping.”

“So, we funnel all of our efforts into vet school for her.” Dad’s words are kind, hopeful.

I slam my hands over my face.

How can they be thinking about me still becoming a vet after this? Sobs wrack my body. I struggle to pull air to my lungs. Mom’s hands land on mine a moment later. I sit up and she folds me into her. Her hands stroke my hair, the way they always have since I was a little girl when I’m upset. “I’m so sorry, Addy.”

Dad’s splayed, warm hand rubs my back. I know I should be glad I’m okay. I have seen things go so wrong for other show jumpers in the ten years I have been doing this. Much worse than a messed-up hip. But I can’t breathe.

Jewls is gone.

The day I met her, she changed my life. She chose me. Just walked on over and rubbed her dark muzzle into my arm. We were so much more than a girl and her horse.

She had my back for five years. And I let her down.

I was so obsessed with making time, I didn’t pay enough attention to her. This is all my fault.

My heart shatters.