Chapter 11
At 4:30 on Saturday morning Tory awoke to the buzzing of her alarm clock. It felt like she had just gone to sleep. She moaned as she rolled over to shut off the annoying noise and felt every muscle in her body ache.
In fact it had been a long night without much sleep. After Tory and her father had arrived back at the farm with G.G., Tory had insisted on helping Grandma Nan get G.G. settled and comfortable back in her paddock before going into the house herself. With Grandma Nan’s guidance, Tory rubbed Arnica suave on G.G’s leg and gave her drops of Comfrey tincture soaked on some treats. Tory knew the remedies would speed the healing, decrease the swelling and help G.G’s body heal itself. Grandma Nan smiled when Tory reached for the Star of Bethlehem Bach Remedy and starting putting drops of it on a treat. Tory knew it would help balance out the emotional trauma G.G. when through.
“You really have learned the remedies all right,” Grandma Nan had said as she rubbed the Arnica suave on Tory’s ankle, and dropped Comfrey tincture on Tory’s tongue.
“We’re both hurting and healing at the same time and in the same ways,” Tory had said after putting dropping 4 drops of the Star of Bethlehem in her mouth. “We’re both lucky to have found Meadowlands.”
After a hot bath with Epson salts Tory had pulled on the warmest, softest, fluffiest pajamas she had and joined Grandma Nan, Clara and her father as they sat around the kitchen table. Over hot chocolate and Grandma Nan’s homemade bread, still warm from the oven, covered in huge slabs of butter and globs of strawberry jam, they had discussed the events of the night.
Tory had explained about finding the letter in the pocket of the jacket and reading it. She told them how alone and lost she had felt, as though everything were her fault and how she had been drawn to G.G. Then, wanting to feel closer to her mother and have a chance to think, she described heading off through the woods on G.G. Clara and Grandma Nan listened in amazement as she described riding G.G. bareback through the woods, galloping when the thunder had scared them, and then G.G. slipping and hurting her leg.
They had all read Samantha’s letter to Grandma Nan and had spent hours talking about Tory’s mother and things she had done. They had all cried a little when they talked about what Samantha would have wanted for them all and how she would have wanted them to go on with their lives. It had been a night for putting away the past and starting new beginnings. Tory had gone to bed late but at peace for the first time in a very long time.
And it looked like this morning was definitely a new beginning. Tory could see the sun just beginning to appear in a cloudless sky. The air coming in from her open window smelled like fresh cut hay. As Tory looked around her room she saw the new riding outfit hanging on her closet door and felt butterflies of nervousness and excitement in her stomach realizing today was the day of the show and there was a ton of work to be done.
But the first order of business for Tory was to check on G.G. She wanted to make sure she was okay. They had formed a very special bond and Tory knew she was as important to G.G. as G.G. was to Tory. Tory slowly unfolded herself from the bed. Despite her mental urgency to get going, her body was slow, stiff and sore. She examined her ankle which her father had expertly wrapped last night and noted that the swelling had come down somewhat and it was now turning wonderful shades of purple and yellow. She wondered how she was going to ride with her body aching so much. Maybe she would add some Hypericum to both her and G.G’s remedies today to help ease the pain.
As Tory limped downstairs in her barn clothes, wonderful breakfast smells coming from the kitchen made her stomach rumble. She was surprised and delighted to see it was her father at the stove cooking up one of his famous breakfasts, something he hadn’t done for months, and had never produced at Grandma Nan’s. They shared a special look between them.
“Nice look you got there,” Tory said laughing at the ridiculousness of her father wearing Grandma Nan’s apron.
He hugged her, spreading flour from the apron to her barn–stained sweatshirt. “Yup, quite a crew the two of us makes Pumpkin,” he said. “How’s the ankle”?
Not wanting to be kept from the show, Tory stood straight and winced as she put more weight on her ankle. “Lots better,” she lied. “Must have been your bandaging.”
“Yeah, something like that,” her father said, and Tory knew her act hadn’t fooled him any. “That’s a pretty bad sprain you’ve got. It’ll take a week or more for sure,” he said but he turned back to focus on the pancakes and bacon.
Tory couldn’t believe he wasn’t going to tell her she couldn’t go in the show. Grandma Nan must have had a talk with him she figured. A few months ago he would have had her lying on the couch with her leg on pillows taking pills for the pain. Maybe he was learning some of the remedies too.
“Grandma Nan and Clara are already out at the barn,” he said. “Can you tell them breakfast is almost ready?”
“Sure,” agreed Tory. “I’m just going to do a quick check on G.G. and I’ll be in too.”
“Don’t be long,” her father warned. “You know how I hate it if anyone is late for a Frank’s Feast!”
Tory met Grandma Nan and Clara at the door of the barn. Empty halters in their hands, they explained they had already let the horses that weren’t going to the show out so they could clean up some stalls before they left. Grandma Nan said she wanted to check on G.G. too so they both headed to the paddock while Clara took the halters back.
G.G. neighed when she saw Tory and started towards her, but then seemed surprised when her foot hurt and she limped slowly towards the gate. “Oh G.G.,” said Tory pulling carrots from her pocket. “Are you okay girl?”
“I think she probably feels about the same as you do this morning,” Grandma Nan said. “There isn’t as much swelling there today.”
“I saw a bright red aura around her leg last night,” Tory said. “I can still see it a bit but it’s faded a lot so I know she’s healing. But I’m worried there’s something wrong with her stomach, I see a pinkish kind of haze there.” It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to be discussing how her visions now included being able to see areas of injury.
“Well, I trust your gift Tory, maybe we better have the vet come out and check on her today just to make sure there isn’t something wrong,” Grandma Nan said.
“But she’ll hate the vet,” said Tory in alarm although she knew it was the best thing for G.G. “Maybe I should stay here instead of going to the show,” said Tory. “That way I could calm her down while the vet examines her.”
“No need for that,” said Grandma Nan. “Dr. Marshall’s a real good friend. In fact he started his practice with your grandfather so he’s good to give me special favors. We’ll let G.G. rest while we’re at the show and have Doc come out this evening when we’re back. That way you can hold G.G’s head and keep her calm through the examination.”
“Okay,” Tory agreed reluctantly. Although she hated to leave G.G. she really wanted to go to the show and Firefly was counting on her.
“Oh, we better get back to house,” exclaimed Tory. “Frank’s Feast is waiting and he hates it if we’re late. Guess I better feed the butterflies flipping around in my stomach!”
The rest of the early morning was a blur of activity. All the girls starting arriving and everyone was nervous and on edge. Horses were bathed and braided, standing patiently as their riders coaxed their manes and tails into tidy braids and ribbons. Tack, already assembled two days earlier, was given one last once-over before it was time to load the horses. Tory made sure Firefly was looking her best before she hobbled back to her room to get dressed herself. The stiff tight fitting boots were a struggle over her swollen ankle but once on, the support they gave made her foot feel much better. She tried on the jacket just for luck before carefully placing it in a garment bag. Then she pulled her oversized old-pink-for-luck sweatshirt, over her head to keep her warm and protect her shirt and riding pants from dirt. On the way out the door he
r father whistled at her.
“You look wonderful Pumpkin, and you’ll be great,” he called as Tory made her way back to Firefly.
“See you at the show,” they both echoed at the same time and then laughed.
Tory wrapped Firefly’s legs for the trip and secured her cooler blanket before loading her into the trailer. Once all the horses were in, Grandma Nan climbed into the driver’s seat of Ole’Pinky. Tory sat in the middle and Clara settled into the window seat as the Meadowland’s trailer headed down the drive. A caravan of nervous parents transporting show girls followed close behind. Tory leaned back so she could see G.G. as they drove away. G.G. seemed content and happy standing in the shade of the trees, her head down as she greedily ate lush green grass. Tory could still see a haze around G.G’s stomach and wondered if G.G. had picked up Tory’s “show butterflies”.
The show ground was a flurry of activity with horse trailers coming and going, people riding horses and leading horses, and horses tied up by their trailers. Everyone seemed to be rushing to do something. Grandma Nan, Clara and the girls had all been through this before and seemed to have a system worked out. While Clara and various parents went to register and get the show numbers, Grandma Nan and the girls unloaded the horses and got them comfortable in their temporary stalls.
Tory didn’t have much time to be nervous. By the time she had her number secured to her jacket and Firefly tacked up and led to the collecting ring, it was almost time for her first class- equitation 8 to 12 year olds. The entrants would be judged on their riding abilities; how well they sat in the saddle and held the reins. The biggest challenge was making sure to post on the right diagonal, which Tory reminded herself, meant she should be sitting when Firefly’s outside leg was back and up in the saddle when it was forward. Before she had time to worry about it Tory was in the saddle, walking around the ring with eight other entrants listening carefully for the judge’s instructions on when to trot and when to walk and which lead to take. By the second time around the ring, Tory felt great. Firefly loved to compete and was feeling good. Tory’s ankle wasn’t even hurting much as she posted on the right diagonal. She caught Clara’s eye as she made her way around and Clara subtly nodded, a signal to Tory that she was doing everything right. Standing close beside Clara was Tory’s father. Seeing him wearing his sunglasses in the dimly lighted barn made Tory smile as she remembered Clara’s story of his allergies. And she kept smiling all through her class. Then the entrants were instructed to line up while the judges inspected them and gave out the medals. Tory felt good. She had just completed her first class and loved every minute of it. She hadn’t fallen off or embarrassed herself or Firefly or Clara. She was so deep in her thoughts she almost missed hearing “Fourth Place, number 71, Tory Lane from Meadowlands Farm”.
Tory couldn’t believe it. She had heeded all the warnings that no one wins ribbons the first show they go in, and yet there she was accepting a beautiful ribbon for fourth place in her equitation class! She rode out of the ring still hearing her father’s excited shouts and clapping. He almost pulled her off Firefly in a huge hug.
“Look Dad, the ribbon’s pink,” Tory said! He smiled with pride and emotion and Tory thought it might be more than the allergies that was causing the redness in his eyes.