Page 52 of Run for the Money

I meet GT’s gaze. “Sorry, buddy, I think I’ve created a monster.”

He snorts and Melanie winks at me. “See you at the finish line!”

She smiles through the whole run. It starts small and polite, but with every jump she lands the corners of her mouth tick higher. If horses could smile, GT would be right there with her. He’s buoyant, sailing over oxers as if he had wings on his back, not a woman. It’s another clean run, not a single mistake. She beats the white mare’s time by seven tenths of a second, taking first place. The rider after her doesn’t even come close to her time, andjust like that, she’s won. I’m the only person in the arena who cheers louder than Olivia when the final scores go up.

Melanie's luminous. She waves at the crowd, beams at officials, and radiates light as she accepts her trophy. It's the happiest I've ever seen her, and I know I'll spend the rest of my life doing everything in my power to keep her this happy. There's nothing I care about more.

I hang back after the medal ceremony while Melanie’s friends gush over her and take about a thousand selfies with her and her trophy. GT even poses for a couple, though his cooperation is motivated by the apple slices Melanie sneaks him when she thinks I’m not looking rather than any sort of desire for a perfect Instagram post.

My mom swoops in before I can, and now I’m the one at risk of blowing chunks. I’m more nervous about this interaction than I was for any of Melanie’s competitions. I want them to get along more than anything; Olivia might have been teasing about the future mother-in-law thing, but that’s my goal: get Melanie onto an Olympic podium to make her dreams come true, and then get on my knees and ask her to make mine come true.

Not that I’d propose at the Olympics. Melanie would tie me to GT’s saddle by my ankles and let him run through a rocky field if I tried to steal her moment like that. But once we’re home, it’s something I want to build into our plans so that by her second Olympics, Melanie will be riding with my ring on her hand.

Before any of that, though, I need to make sure my two favorite women are getting along. It takes approximately twelve hundred years for me to fight through the crowd to get to them, by which point they’re hugging. Thank fuck. They pull apart and Melanie’s eyes are glittery with unshed tears. Mom brushes a stray hair off her forehead in a gesture so maternalIalmost cry, because as much love as Melanie’s got around her right now, I know there are two people missing from the crowd.

“So lovely to meet you, Lisa,” Melanie says.

“You too, sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight,” Mom says.

“Tonight? Any other surprises planned for us, Mom?” I ask.

She pulls me into a tight hug, smirking at me mischievously. “If I’d told you I was coming, you would have told me to stay home, and then I would have missed that splendid performance! Now, I’m overdue a nap at my hotel, but I’ve got reservations for us at Rioja tonight so we can chat more then.”

“See you then,” I say, stepping back to take Melanie’s hand.

“Proud of you, kiddo,” Mom says.

“I learned from the best.”

“I wasn’t talking about your coaching,” she says. “It’s about time you opened your heart to something other than horses. See you two at eight.”

Then, it’s finally my turn to have my champion all to myself. Melanie jumps into my arms and I twirl her around; it’s basically tradition at this point. When I set her down, the glimmer of tears I saw earlier is all but gone.

“I’m obsessed with your mom,” she says.

“I’m a big fan of her myself. You alright?” I ask.

She holds up her trophy, one eyebrow raised. “Is that even a question?”

I shrug. “Your parents…”

“Their loss. Just watch—if I make the Olympic team—”

“Whenyou make the Olympic team,” I correct.

“Sure.Thenthey’ll come crawling back. They’ll want to be in control of the narrative when every sports journalist who can tell the difference between dressage and hunter/jumper starts looking for human interest stories and digs up the Roger Peart fiasco, then wants to know how I came back from that,” she says darkly.

“And you’ll tell those journalists the truth?” I prompt.

“Absolutely not,” she says with a snort. “I’ll talk about how I’ve had my parents’ unwavering support from day one, and how much they believe in me, and how there’s nothing they want more in the world than their little girl’s happiness. They can either call me a liar and admit they put their reputations above my dreams, or they can support me.”

“Oh, that’s diabolical,” I say, grinning.

“Olivia helped me brainstorm.” She takes GT’s lead in the hand that’s already clutching her trophy and grabs onto my arm with the other. “Also, fair warning for when we get back to the stable, she and Kennedy are waiting there for an official introduction. I’m pretty sure Olivia didn’t hang up that FaceTime call the other day until after we fell asleep on the couch.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised by that,” I say with a sigh. “Any chance Kennedy’s well-adjusted?”

“Her stepmom’s two years younger than she is, so I’ll let you use your best judgment on that,” she says. “Still feel lucky to have me riding for you?”

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