“Take him around once more, Myra,” Ellie called to her friend, reining in her horse, Maccabee. Her eyes absently followed Myra and Jubilee around the paddock as they alternately trotted and cantered. Myra seemed a bit uptight, but Ellie couldn’t blame her. She had been that way since July—since the day she had had the terrible riding accident at Northwood Horse Show.

Myra had been warming up Jubilee and preparing him for their turn to jump. As they effortlessly flew over the jumps, a child had accidentally thrown a toy into the arena. It barreled right past Jubilee, startling him and causing him to land right on top of one of the oxers, wrenching his tendon in the process. Myra had been thrown and had badly injured her leg. She had completely recovered without any problems and so had Jubilee. But after she had gotten out of the hospital, Myra had begun to act skittery and frightened of riding.

Ellie shivered as she recalled how panicked she had been upon seeing Myra thrown from the saddle, striking her head against one of the jumps. Then she was brought back to the present as she noticed how stiff Myra was and how tightly she was clutching the reins. “Relax, Myra,” Ellie reminded her. “You’re going to work up your horse.”

Myra sat up straighter in the saddle and loosened up on the reins, slowing Jubilee to a walk. “There’s no way I can be in Ritternown Horse Show next week,” she complained to Ellie. “I’m just not talented enough for riding!”

“Sure, you are,” contradicted Ellie. She rode Maccabee over to Jubilee. “Look, Myra, your nervousness and lack of proper riding have nothing to do with you being a horrible rider. I get you’re scared because you had that accident last month, but at least you got back on. Now all you have to do is get over your fright.”

“How do you do that?” Myra asked.

Ellie thought a moment as she gazed toward the setting sun. She couldn’t very well formulate an answer for that. “The longer you do it, the more comfortable you feel,” she said at last. “And gradually, your fear goes away—but only if you kill it.”

Myra sighed. “And how do you kill it?”

“By doing the thing you’re most afraid of,” Ellie replied.

Myra frowned a little. “Are you telling me I have to jump in order to kill my fear of jumping?”

Ellie shrugged. “Basically.”

“No way!” Myra shook her head. “I didn’t let you talk me into entering the horse show to jump! I’m going to stick to equitation and the hunter division and that’s it! I will not take that chance again!”

“But who’s to say you’re not going to get hurt doing equitation or the division?” Ellie asked, driving her point home. “And if you do, what will you do then? Stay out of horse shows forever? Quit riding entirely?” She automatically bent forward to pat Maccabee’s neck. “Myra, what I’m saying is this: You can’t let your fear keep you from doing what you love. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith into the unknown, no matter how frightening or unsure it is. And who knows? You might surprise yourself with the results.”

Myra frowned and ran her finger along the pommel of the saddle. “I guess. . .” she mumbled.

Ellie smiled encouragingly at her. “Come on, Myra,” she gently prodded. “At least try the jumping class.” Seeing her friend’s doubtful look, she added, “Please?”

Myra sighed. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. . .but fine. Yes! I’ll do it. I’ll jump in the horse show.”

Ellie grinned and clicked her tongue to Maccabee. “I just know you’ll be a success,” she called over her shoulder to Myra as she and Maccabee cantered toward a set of four gymnastic fences. “Come on! Let’s start practicing now.”

Myra reluctantly followed, but now there was the tiniest glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

______

The day of the horse show had finally arrived! Everyone at the grounds was extremely busy. Horses were being groomed, riders were scurrying around, reporters were taking notes—everything was a whirlwind of excitement and busyness. Ellie and Myra stood a little way off from the madness, watching everything that was going on.

“Jumping starts in a few minutes,” Ellie reported. “Are you nervous?”

“Me? Of course I’m nervous,” admitted Myra. “I’ll always be nervous before a show. I don’t know how I’m going to do.” She ran her fingers through the thickly braided sections of Jubilee’s black mane. “What if I goof up and everyone laughs at me?”

“Don’t worry about the crowd,” Ellie supplied helpfully. “Concentrate on your riding. Tell yourself, ‘I will do well. I can do well. I am talented enough to win this show.’ Say that over and over while you’re warming up and I guarantee you’ll be confident when it’s time to jump.”

“Why would you say that?” Myra asked. “I’ll bet you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“No way! I’m serious,” Ellie said. “I’ve tried it myself and it’s worked. I just know it will help you too, Myra.”

Myra didn’t say anything, but her face registered doubt.

“All contestants to the arena,” the announcer droned over the speaker. “First up is Elinda Haye on her horse, Maccabee.”

Ellie quickly crossed her fingers for good luck and swung up into the saddle. “Wish me luck,” she said to Myra. She touched Maccabee’s side with the heel of her boot and the horse trotted off toward the arena.

Myra was amazed at Ellie’s confidence as she sailed over each jump, a calm, composed look on her face. Her signals were nearly invisible; it was as if she and Maccabee were one. How does she do it? Myra wondered. How can she be so calm? 

After a few more riders, it was Myra’s turn. As the arena gate swung open, Myra rode inside. The gate clanged behind her.

Myra began a quick but efficient warm-up for Maccabee, walking, trotting, and cantering at short intervals. While doing so, she reviewed the order of the fences in her mind and told herself what Ellie had told her to think: “I will do well. I can do well. I’m a talented rider. I can win this.”

When she was ready, she turned toward the first fence and urged Jubilee toward it. The bay never batted an eye. He calmly approached it and leaped over it as it if were merely a log in his path. She shortened his stride as they neared the second fence, and again he cleared it with almost no effort. They repeated the process for the rest of the course. When they finished, the crowd burst into applause. Beaming with pride, Myra rode out of the ring.

“Beautiful, Myra!” Ellie congratulated her friend. “That was a splendid performance!”

Myra smiled. And it was then she realized she no longer felt afraid. Ellie’s advice had worked. “Thanks, Ellie,” she said. “You’re a great friend.”

“Oh, think nothing of it!” Ellie said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m always glad to help.”

When the results for the jumping class were announced, Myra had placed first, with Ellie being a close second. Myra grinned madly as she attached the blue ribbon to Jubilee’s bridle, giving him a pat on the nose as she did so. “You’re a champion,” she whispered into his silky ear.

The hunter division was next, then equation and dressage. Myra placed second in the division and first in equation and dressage. When the time came to announce who the winner of the Ritternown Horse Show Trophy would be, Myra and Ellie were known as the top riders of the show. Not once had they placed below third. Not once had anyone come close to their ability to ride so well.

The announcer droned on and on about the trophy and about who had donated it. Myra began to get impatient. Maccabee champed his bit and stomped his foot. Ellie crossed her fingers behind her back. Finally, the time came.

“The winner of this year’s trophy is Myrabelle Karner, of Rocky Ford, Colorado.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and Ellie gave Myra a victory sign. Myra set off for the grandstand, her eyes shining, her smile wide. She barely heard the rest of the announcer’s commentary as she collected her trophy. As she gazed at the silvery sheen of the prize she held in her hand, she knew she had not gained this trophy on her own. She owed it all to Ellie, her best friend—the one who had first encouraged her to conquer her fears.