Unfriendly Competition by Jessica Burkhart Page A

maintaining a steady, even rhythm up the hill. His breathing didn’t get heavier as the hill got steeper with every minute that passed.
    After a few minutes, the ground leveled and the wind roared in my ears as Charm cantered. He tossed his head and snorted, invigorated by the practice.
    Strides ahead, I watched Mike and Willow approach a row of brush. Willow lifted into the air, clearing the brush. Right behind Mike, Heather and Aristocrat, then Callie, then Brit cleared the hedge.
    Now this was the awesome part. At the right second, I lifted into the two-point position and Charm rose into the air. He took the brush as if he was stepping over a crack in the driveway, and I could feel the eagerness in his body to jump more.
    We cleared four more hedges, and Mike led us over a fallen tree that had its branches sawed off to prevent any injury to the horses’ legs.
    Woods were now visible in the distance, and we followed Mike’s lead as he slowed Willow to a trot, then a walk a few paces later.
    â€œEveryone doing okay?” Mike asked.
    â€œTotally,” Heather said. The rest of us nodded.
    â€œGreat,” Mike said, patting Willow’s shoulder. “We’re about to enter the woods. They’re perfect for cross-country. You won’t encounter anything out of the ordinary, so don’t worry. There will be a few logs, a creek that’s narrow enough to jump, a bank, and lots of twists in the trail. Stay on alert for any deer because Mr. Conner and I saw a few last time we were here.”
    We nodded at him. At first, it had felt weird to take instruction from Mike, but he was a natural instructor. I liked riding with him.
    â€œStay single file with plenty of space between your horses,” Mike said.
    Behind him, we got into line. I fell behind Mike, Heather was after me, then Brit, and finally Callie.
    We started at a posting trot into the woods. All of the trees were bare, so the horses didn’t have to adjust to a low light. Charm, with both ears pointed forward, trotted along the dirt path. He loved this. We made several bends and ducked under a low-hanging tree branch as we followed Mike.
    Mike and Willow leaped over a foot-high log, and we all did the same without a problem. Skinny branches on the bare trees surrounding both sides of the trail wavered in the wind. A few birds chirped, but the only sound I focused on was Charm’s hoofbeats.
    â€œSlow canter,” Mike called back to us.
    I let the leather reins slide through my fingers and Charm moved into a canter, not rushing or trying to get more rein.
    We jumped two more logs and started down a slight hill. We slowed the horses to a trot, and I leaned back in the saddle. Charm took careful steps through the dirt until the ground leveled again. Mike and Willow started cantering, and I let Charm follow their pace. A few strides ahead, I saw the creek Mike had mentioned.
    Mike pointed Willow at the narrowest part and the mare gathered herself and cleared it without hesitation.
    Charm, excited about jumping and probably wanting to show off in front of his friends, approached the jump with an extra bounce in his stride. I did a half halt, not wanting him to get too excited and out of control, and he listened.
    I counted down the strides, not wanting to end up in the freezing water.
    Four, three, two, one, now!
    I leaned forward in the saddle and Charm lifted into the air, his body suspended over the creek for a brief but amazing second. He landed easily on the other side, his hooves sinking a little bit into the soft dirt.
    I heard Heather and Aristocrat land behind us, and Charm and I kept cantering. We swept around a sharp corner on the path and jumped a line of brush.
    Charm was doing great! He’d made any anxiety I’d had disappear, and every stride we took reminded me how much I loved riding and being with Charm—not just cross-country. I was happy with Charm no matter what we were doing.
    After a few more