“A.J., talk to me. Don’t be tough. Are you strong enough to do this?”
“Absolutely. I don’t stop just because it hurts.”
“Perseverance is a good quality. So is knowing when you need a break.”
He watched as she looked around at the jumps, flexed her arms and settled back into the saddle. Sabbath stamped a hoof and tossed his head, impatient.
She said, “We don’t have time—”
“There’s always time. Trust me on this. It’s better to be clear about any weakness you or your mount might have than pretend you don’t have one.”
“I’m fine. Why won’t you believe me?”
A.J. wheeled the stallion around and he watched her go, taken by her command of the horse. And herself. She would no sooner give in to physical exhaustion than back away from a challenge. She was, he realized, so very much like himself.
Which meant he was going to have to watch her very carefully. When a competitor’s hunger was as strong as hers, good judgment could easily be a casualty. It was a lesson he’d learned the hard way. He found himself hoping he could spare her the pain of his own insight into what someone loses when they focus on a goal to the exclusion of everything else.
At ringside, A.J. stared down the course, jaw set in preparation for the battle ahead. She was so sore from the day before that brushing her teeth in the morning had been a challenge. The warm-up hadn’t been too bad but she knew what was coming. Could she hold out long enough?
The discomfort in her body wasn’t the only thing she found upsetting. Devlin’s concern for her was both touching and frustrating. Didn’t he understand the pressure they were all under? They were going to need every day they had to train the stallion. Taking time off just because of some muscle soreness wasn’t going to get them where they needed to go.
With resolve, she tightened her grip on the reins and gave the stallion some leg. He surged forward, approaching the first fence faster than she would have liked. The jump went startlingly well. Some of the smoothness she associated with his flatwork showed up unexpectedly, but then, as if he remembered he had to be a badass, he fought her at the turn, throwing his head up and sidestepping. She had to pitch her weight in the opposite direction in hopes of controlling him.
A.J. succeeded in muscling him into the next jump, a low-slung wall that he cleared as if it were big as a barn. He fought her through another turn and, when he was confronted by the oxer combination, he took the bit and plowed through the jumps like a wrecking ball.
“Halt,” Devlin called out. Normally, he would never have interrupted a rider’s concentration in the middle of a course but he didn’t want them going any farther. The horse was out of control and they’d only be letting him get entrenched in bad behavior if the round continued.
A.J. curbed the stallion with a mighty pull while Devlin approached on foot. She was panting as if she’d run a mile.
“You want to rest?” he asked.
“No.”
He hesitated. “All right, let me know when you do.”
She nodded but he knew the idea had been tossed out.
Devlin said, “I think we need to school him over some singles. The course is too much right now. He’s just going to keep fighting you, first because he’s testing you and then because he’s used to doing it.”
Devlin pointed to the left.
“Let’s start with that first upright. Just run him over it once and bring him to a halt. We’re going to get this animal so bored, he’ll be too numb to fight.”
The rest of the training session was spent leaping over the jump and coming to a full stop until A.J. thought she was going to go mad. It worked, though. By the end of the morning, the stallion was clearing the one fence and coming to a halt without turning it into a battle.
“I think that’s enough for today,” Devlin called out.
A.J. didn’t bother to hide her relief. She was always willing to work hard but the two extremes of constant vigilance and mindless tedium had begun to wear on her. The stallion seemed likewise exhausted.
“Hypnosis takes over where the battle leaves off,” Devlin said with satisfaction as they walked toward him. Both were glassy-eyed.
“Is it me or has there been some improvement?” A.J. asked.
“By the end, he seemed to be coming around.”
“Thank God.”
Even though Devlin wanted to, he didn’t ask about how she was feeling. Besides, with the way she was looking, he knew. Her features were pinched and her eyes dragged down at the corners. Neither was a good sign.
“Let’s cool him down and have a strategy session over lunch,” he said.
“Good idea.”
While she coaxed the stallion into a slow walk at the rail, Devlin went over to Chester. “What do you think?”
“Stallion’s a natural but a pain in the neck.” The man scratched his chin. “Girl’s a gem. Rides like a lady but’s tough as old shoe leather. She’ll win ’im over in the end but it’s gonna take the starch outta both of ’em.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Sabbath and A.J. walked by slowly, looking like a couple of worn-out boxers.
“Shootin’ for the Qualifier, are ya?”
Devlin nodded.
“It’s two months away.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Ya gonna test ’em out in competition aforehand?”
“We’ll have to. There’s an event coming up in two weeks. Some good competitors will be in the ring but it won’t be covered heavily by the press because the purse is small. We can let them cut their teeth in relative peace. I just hope there’s enough time to get some kinks worked out. I don’t want her getting discouraged by a bad showing early on.”
“They’re gonna make it,” Chester pronounced.
Devlin cracked a grin. “I love it when you agree with me.”
“Two weeks!” A.J.’s turkey sandwich hit the plate and bounced apart. “Are you out of your mind?”
“We need to get the two of you into competition as soon as we can.” Devlin’s eyes were steady across the table.
“I agree, but in case you haven’t noticed, that horse and I can barely make it over one upright without turning it into armed combat. How are we going to get up to speed over a whole course in two weeks? Much less go into a competition?”
“I’m not saying you two will be polished or that I expect you to win.”