Page 68 of Growing Into Love

I huff. I had been feeling so good today, so confident. Why the hell is Nigella always watching me train? Doesn’t she have her own training to do? I hate the way she looks at me, like she can see inside to the most vulnerable parts. Like she knows I’ll lose and she’ll win.

Because she always fucking wins.

“Let’s do some gridwork,” I say.

Jaz gives me one final concerned look that rankles me further before heading off to change the jumps. I’m so humiliated—I can’t remember the last time I fell off my horse.

“Focus, Cass,” Jaz calls, but my mind is miles away. I barely see the jumps, letting Gal do all the work. I’m distracted through lunch, as we leave the ring to let the grooms set up a practice course. It only gets worse as the afternoon goes on. I barely watch as Scott takes his runs, then Rosa, even though I know I need to be looking for their weaknesses, for ways Gal and I can play to our own strengths.

It’s nearly five o’clock when it finally comes to my turn to run the course, and my nerves are so tight I feel like a giant spring about to snap. I’m far slower than I was yesterday, and even go off course on one of the jumps which is something that I never, ever do. I don’t need to see the expressions on the other riders’ faces to know that I’ve fucked up utterly. No one is taking me seriously anymore. Not even Gal. She huffs as I dismount as if to say, “What the fuck was that?”

“Don’t judge me,” I grumble.

“I’ll help you untack,” Jaz offers.

“No, I want to do it myself.”

“Cass—”

“Leave it,” I snarl and push past him, heading for the stables.

The last thing I need is a lecture when I know how badly I’ve blown this training.

Nigella is in a different practice ring, sailing over jumps like she was made for them. She canters up to the rail as I pass, leading Gal by her reins.

“You really should switch classes and compete with the juniors tomorrow,” Nigella says sweetly.

“Fuck off, Nigella.”

“Uh oh. Doesfuck offqualify as abusive language? That’s against the rules too, you know.” She circles Prince William around and sails over a triple oxer, just to show off. I glower at her and tug on Gal’s reins harder than necessary to get her walking again.

“Sad that you can’t even afford a real trainer now,” Nigella calls after me. “Such a shame. At least he’s easy on the eyes. I’d go for him myself if it weren’t for the stink of Highland cow.”

I whirl around and she laughs, turning Prince for another round of jumps, kicking up dust and leaving me there, fuming. Tears prick my eyes. It’s not as if I care about growing up on a farm. I’m proud of my roots. But something about the way she says things, the disdain dripping from her voice. Or maybe it’s because I always place second. If I could just prove I could beat her…

I growl and tug on Gal’s reins again. Gal bristles, giving me a sharp nudge in the back. “Don’t blame me,” I say. “It’s all Nigella’s fault.”

What she said about Jaz was plain wrong. He works harder than anyone I know and he came here last minute like a damn hero. And hedoesn’tsmell like cow.

I growl and grumble all through untacking Gal, brushing her down harder than normal and snapping at Lisa when she tries to help. As I’m leaving the stables, Nigella comes in with Prince.

“Leaving so soon?” she says. “Thought you might want to have another go at that practice course. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s time to hang up your stirrups and accept that your life should revolve around shoveling shit. I mean, not everyone has what it takes to win a Grand Prix, you know? But you’ve done well for yourself, Cass. Really.”

I have never wanted to punch someone in the face as badly I do right now. And I’m, not a violent person. But my hand clenches into a fist and Nigella smirks, her stupid painted lips and her stupid threaded brows begging to be smacked right off her stupid fucking—

“Cass!” Lisa cries as she hurries up to me. “I wanted to let you know, I talked to Miriam about Stars and Stripes and she’s going to look into sanctuaries here, like the one you’re starting at your own farm. Isn’t that cool? You totally inspired me!”

“That’s great,” I say, but of course Nigella butts in where she doesn’t belong.

“Cass, starting a sanctuary? Not at Oak Hill.” She looks at me and sniggers. “What decent horse would ever want to live at a dump like that?”

She laughs and leads Prince into his stall. I feel my pulse pound all over my body, heat stinging my cheeks.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Lisa says.

I’m afraid if I speak, I’ll start to cry, and that will be the most embarrassing thing of all the embarrassing things to have happened today. Instead, I stalk past Lisa and head straight to the shuttle that’s about to leave.

I don’t know where Jaz has got to, and right now I don’t care. I’m not waiting for him. I want to lick my wounds and feel like shit and not listen to some stupid pep talk that won’t make a difference anyway. Jaz will try to make me feel better and I don’t want to feel better. I don’t deserve to. I’ve fucked today up and there’s no going back.

---