Page 78 of Growing Into Love

“You’ve got this Cass,” he says. But I can hear he’s nervous too.

I check my phone—Zara got back to me with about a hundred celebratory emojis and demands for more details. Then she added best wishes for tomorrow.

Autumn hasn’t replied though. I haven’t heard from anyone in my family today. My chest pinches. Thought they might want to wish me luck. But maybe they’re waiting till tomorrow.

I feel another wave of homesickness for the old redbrick farmhouse, and Lola padding around the kitchen, and Gran humming as she makes a fry-up.

“Hey,” Jaz says, sitting beside me and dislodging jump number nine. “Nervous?”

“A little homesick, actually,” I admit. I rest my head against his shoulder.

“Me too,” Jaz says. “This has been quite a week, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” I agree.

And it’s not over yet.

TWENTY-TWO

JAZ

We couldn’t have askedfor better weather when we wake the next morning.

I stand on the balcony, gazing up at the crystal blue sky as Cass dresses in her show jumping best: fawn-colored jodhpurs, navy jacket, crisp white blouse, and high boots polished to a shine. Her hair is pulled back in a bun and she carries her helmet in one gloved hand. A pair of gold studs glint in her ears.

I never realized how sexy her jumping attire is until now. She looks confident and professional, like she’s ready to tackle the world. I feel a stirring in my groin and have to remind myself that there will be time for that later. This is Cass’s moment.

Her cheeks are pale but there’s determination in her eyes.

“Let’s go,” she says.

We get on the shuttle to Windy Acres and my own nerves ratchet up a notch. I don’t know how Del does this—I’ve only been Cass’s pretend trainer for a week and my stomach is tangled up in knots. I’ll feel helpless when I watch her compete, not able to do anything but cheer her on as best I can. She’s got to win this. She’s worked so hard.

The Grand Prix is two rounds—riders need a clean round (meaning they make no faults, like knocking a pole or balking at a jump) to move to the second round. If two or more riders have a clean second round and make the same time, things will go to a jump off.

I hope it doesn’t get that far. I hope Cass smashes everyone in both rounds.

We get off the shuttle and make our way to the arenas. The Grand Prix is the final event, so we spend the morning watching the other classes compete. I try to get Cass to eat something at lunch—she only takes a couple bites of a sandwich before shoving it back at me and shaking her head. I see them start to set up the Grand Prix course in one of the rings. I know it well enough now to recognize it. No more studying left to do. Cass gets paler as she watches the course take shape. At last, it’s time to walk it and get a sense of how best to attack the lines and combinations. My heart sinks as I see flowers planted at the base of jump seven, swaying in the gentle breeze. Gal doesn’t love fluttery things.

A few other riders are already walking the course. Nigella waves to Cass from inside the ring, giving her a smug smile. Cass looks like she might be sick.

I squeeze her elbow. “Ready?”

At that moment we hear a cry of, “Cass!”

I whirl around and see Autumn coming toward us, pulling Declan behind her. May and Charles are bringing up the rear, huge smiles on their faces.

“What…how…what are you all doing here?” Cass cries, leaping into Autumn’s arms and then flinging herself on May.

“We couldn’t miss this,” May says, rubbing her back. “Autumn got us all last-minute plane tickets.”

“First class,” Charles says, beaming. “Never flown first class before.”

Cass collapses into her grandfather’s arms.

“Oh child,” he says. “Don’t cry, there, there…”

“I’m just…so…happy,” Cass croaks.

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