June 16 

Caledon, Ontario

Hudson and I sing along to Shania Twain, the whole car ride down to the barn. It makes me laugh, hearing Hudson sing along to 'Man I Feel Like a Woman' with us. Both Mum and I are in stitches laughing.

Today I'll have a lesson on Kuna, prepare him for the horse show tomorrow and then have a family dinner tonight before my brother leaves for camp next week with Logan.\

Mum pulls into the polo club first, dropping Hudson with a reminder she'll be back to get him in an hour, hour and a half, tops.

Ten minutes later, I walk quickly down the aisle of the stable, calling for Kuna and crinkling the bag of carrots I'm carrying. His big grey head pops out of the window of his stall, and he knickers lightly at me.

Leo, not to be outdone, repeats the gesture, the sound, pawing the ground for his carrot. I toss a carrot across the aisle to my mum, and she feeds it to him, rubbing his cheek.

With no time to waste, I tack Kuna up and head down to the big outdoor arena for my lesson, grabbing my helmet on the way.

I've been riding for as long as I can remember, I'd had my first pony, Dumpling, at the age of three. I can't remember when I didn't ride, I think I might have even ridden before I walked.

Competing started later, around eight, I think, sometimes the memory is blurry, it's been such a part of my life. I had this demon pony, spawned from Satan named Kai. He looked like an angel, but he was a holy terror. Mum finally gave up trying to tame the wild beast, sending him to a friend's farm to work as a school pony until he mellowed out a little.

The season I'd ridden Kai, I think I'd fallen off every single day for the entire summer, sometimes more than once in a day. My mum's friend finally pulled her aside saying something along the lines of 'Diana, this kid clearly wants to ride, so how about we get her something that will let her learn new skills, aside from how to gracefully face plant in the dirt.'

And so here I was, with my favorite boy, Kuna. Mum and Dad bought him last year, and I've never been happier.

I manage the warm-up on my own, while Anna, a friend from the barn, finishes the last part of her lesson. She's a couple of years younger than me, but she's already one division ahead of where I was at her age, I love to watch her ride.

As she slows her horse Freddie to a walk to cool him out, she reaches out to give me a long-armed high-five, leaning over from her saddle as she walks by me. I return her grin before pulling into the middle of the ring to talk to my coach Chelsea, or Chels as everyone calls her.

"Feeling good, kiddo?"

"You know it, Chels. Nowhere I'd rather be." It's the truth. When I'm at the barn, I'm fully here. Nothing else matters. It's one of the few times my active mind is at ease.

Chels rests her arm on Kuna's neck as she gives me a list of jumps and exercises to complete, leaving it up to me to select the order I do them. With a pat on his rump, she sends us off.

Kuna and I fly around the ring, jumping, turning, bending. There is nowhere I feel more confident than in the saddle, and on Kuna.

Forty minutes later, I slow down to walk Kuna out, sliding him a mint from my pocket, even though Chels hates that I do this. I just don't care, he deserves all the treats.

I wave as she walks back to the barn, and I slide off Kuna, removing his tack before climbing up the fence and leaping across and over onto his bareback. I let him wander aimlessly, chatting idly with him. His ears twitch back and forth, so I know he's listening. He knows all my secrets.

I watch my mum's car pull back up the driveway and realize I've already lost track of time if Mum's already picked Hudson up. Kuna is cool and dry to the touch, so I slide off of him, grabbing my saddle and carrying the whole load of gear back to the barn. Kuna follows me like a puppy, his nose sniffing my back pockets and nudging me for treats.

Hudson walks down, taking the saddle from my arms, and Kuna does the same thing to him. Only this time, Hudson slides a mint from his pocket, tossing a wink in my direction. "Yeah, I've got you covered, big boy. Don't tell your little mama, Kuna, but I've got more of those for later."

Together, we give Kuna a bubble bath, and we laugh as we slap each other with sponges, spray each other with the hose, and when Kuna tries to drink directly from the hose.

Hudson takes Kuna outside to graze on the freshly cut grass and dry in the sun. My mum and I set to work cleaning all my tack, packing the gear that will ship in the trailer with Kuna tomorrow.

"How do you feel for tomorrow, sweetie-pea?"

I glance over at my mum, "Great," I say honestly. In the past, I've suffered from nerves and anxiety before competitions, but that was all before Kuna. You could blindfold me backward on this horse, and I'd still feel great because he's so steady, so calm, so reliable. Sometimes I think you could land a helicopter next to him, and he'd still be more interested in the mints in my pocket.

"Would you tell me if you weren't feeling great?"

I'm surprised by my mum's question. She rarely likes to talk about my stress, considering her expectations are often at the core of the anxiety, even if they are unspoken.

"I guess so," I look back over at her.

"I'm just glad you've gotten over your pre-show stress now that you have Kuna, but remember, sweetie, if you want to progress, you have to stretch yourself, and you might not have Kuna forever, as your talent outgrows his level.

My mum smiles over at me absently, clearly missing the flash of sadness moving over my face, before reminding me of the plan for the zillionth time.

"Anyway, as I've already told you, you should go to bed early, Elle, we've got a four-thirty wake-up call tomorrow morning."

I tune her out, listening with half an ear since mum's clearly going over the plan for her own benefit at this point.

"Elle, are you listening?"

Shoot. "Yes, Mum."

"Then tell me the plan, sweetie." Her cool tone tells me she knows I wasn't paying attention.

Sighing, I do as she asks. Lucky for me this was the tenth time today she'd gone over it. "Four-thirty wake up call. Five o'clock departure. You'll head back to the city to take the boys to camp, Geordie will pick me up at the show to drive Hudson and I back north. I'll stay over with them until dad comes up Saturday." I fight the urge to roll my eyes. She hates it when I do that. "I've got it, Mom. Honestly."

"Good. Now, was that so hard?"

I smile sweetly rather than responding. Sometimes, my Mum drives me nuts, but I also see a lot of myself in her. Especially the obsessive planning tendency. The only difference is I try not to inflict my neuroses on others.

No, I prefer to keep those under wraps, locked up tight.

When we finish, the tack is sparkling, and so are my boots. I quickly muck out Kuna's stall, removing anything that could stain his clean, grey coat.

I pack everything the way I like it, then lock the trunk just as Hudson brings a dry Kuna back into the barn, and I walk to the door of his stall. "Don't you dare roll in poop tonight." I try to keep my voice stern, authoritative. Like that will help.

"Hope you're not talking to me, cause I can't make any promises." Hudson's playful voice startles me, making me laugh as he comes out of Leo's stall.

Kuna bumps his head against me, breathing softly against my pocket, and I sigh, producing one last mint. He licks my palm for several moments after I give him the minty treat.

I give Kuna one last kiss on the nose. Hudson helps me drag my massive show trunk to stand outside Kuna's stall with his shipping wraps, lightweight sheet, and fluffy sheepskin show halter. I leave all three items piled on top for the shipping staff tomorrow.

I load my personal gear in the car that we'll take with us.

"So, how was practice, Hudson?"

I listen intently, happy to see him so jazzed. As we start the drive home, Hudson fills me in about the new drills and moves that he learned. His excitement about the sport fills me with happiness.

"I'm pretty bummed about missing the Charity game, though. That would have been cool."

With our work schedules, we won't be able to come down again for the Polo for Heart Charity match this year.

"I know. Look, make it a priority next season. Honestly, Hudson, you had no idea you'd be such a natural, especially not after the first few attempts. Even I had my doubts, and I think you can do anything." I tease him, remembering the rough start he had last year. "I'll come be your fan girl next year and make all the other girls mad with jealousy."

He laughs at that, yanking my ponytail.

He talks me through the homework my uncle Clark gave him, to practice with his mallet and the new polo pony he's riding, Peanut. I chuckle at the name, but Hudson assures me he's very dignified.

When we pull up outside of Hudson's place an hour later, he leans forward, kissing my mum's cheek, before leaning over to kiss mine, tapping me under the chin lightly with his index finger as he pulls away.

"I'll try to be there for your afternoon class, but if not, knock 'em dead, Ellie."

"Thanks! Say bye to Logan for me, tell him not to get into too much trouble with Wes at camp."

"No promises, Elle. I, for one, hope they get into all kinds of trouble." With a wink, he closes the door and jogs up his driveway. Just as Geordie and Brooke open the door, waving at us as Mum reverses back onto the main road.

When we get home a few minutes later, there's the usual chaos as Mum and I file into the house.

Dad's voice greets us, "There are my two favourite girls."

I smile up at him, and he grabs my bags, kissing my cheek, before walking to help Mum.

Wes isn't far behind, bouncing around me, chatting all about the orientation at camp. "Slow down, Wes. You still have all evening to tell me about it."

He grins sheepishly at me. "How was Kuna?"

"Amazing, as always. You should come out and ride him when you're back. It's good practice for camp."

Last summer, Wes won the Junior Horseman title at camp. I think it's only because he brought all my old gear with him. Now, he's too big for anything I've ever owned. He doesn't particularly like the sport, but he enjoys watching me on the rare occasion, and he definitely loves watching Hudson play polo.

Rather than head to a restaurant, Wes decides he wants to order delivery and watch a movie together, since he'll be TV-free for a whole two months and two weeks.

"So, what are we eating this eve Montgomery gang?" Dad's voice is patient as Wes and I continue to debate. I'm only debating for the sport of it, I'll let Wes choose, but I can't make it too easy otherwise, he'll walk all over me.

"Pizza!" Wes repeats for the fifth time, and I bite my lip, pretending to think about it before finally conceding.

"As long as it's at least half veggie."

"Absolutely, no cardiac arrest on a pie for me, boys." Mum sips her wine as she flips through her Filofax.

Before any more changes can pop up, Dad dials out, ordering a large pizza, half veggie, half loaded with extra meat.

"Wes, pick a movie." I toss the remote to him, and he snags it in mid-air.

When his eyebrow raises, and he tips his head to the side, I laugh. "You won't have a TV for weeks, the least I can do is let you pick one terrible film."

As usual, we end up bickering over the selection, but by the time the pizza arrives, we're ready to dig in and start watching the second Fast and the Furious movie. I can tell Mum is struggling to stay interested as she looks longingly over to her book. I bite my cheek and stand, refilling her wine for her with a wink. She doesn't notice.

Dad says no to a top-up, and I settle back down, bumping my shoulder against my brother's. I'm really going to miss him this summer. He usually only goes to camp for four weeks, but this year he and Logan want to do the counselor training program, which means they will be away for the whole summer from now on, basically.

He looks over at me and rolls his eyes, but he puts an arm around the back of the sofa, letting me lean against him for the rest of the movie.

"Don't get all emotional on me, Ells. I'm supposed to be the baby in this family. Don't go blubbering all over me, you get all snotty and red when you cry, very gross."

"Shut up, Wes. I'm just going to miss your stupid face."

He laughs and yanks on my ponytail. I stick my tongue out at him. Well, problem solved. My sadness subsides, replaced by annoyance. When he grins down at me, I realize that was his intention. Brat.

At the end of the movie, I swear I hear Mum breathe a deep sigh of relief. She calls us all to the kitchen, "Montgomery clan, huddle up for the game plan for the next two days."

Mum and Dad walk us through the plan. Again. Seriously? Do we look like goldfish? My memory lasts longer than a hot minute. Thank you very much.

Dad rubs my shoulder, like he can sense my thoughts, so I smooth a smile onto my face. "Now, Elle, you can stay over with Hudson, or get a ride to the cottage tomorrow, either is fine with Geordie. They're expecting you for dinner, though. I'll drive up Saturday, kiddo."

Dad's hand strokes absently over the length of my hair, and he gives my shoulder a quick squeeze. He knows I don't love to sleep alone at the cottage. Even though my friends aren't far away, I still get a bit freaked out.

Mum turns to Wes, "Brooke and I will take you and Logan to camp, then since I'd like to squeeze a ride in as well, I'll head back north on Sunday afternoon."

I mentally tick all the boxes in my head, check, check, check. When I look at the clock, I'm surprised to see it's nearly ten o'clock.

I give Wes a huge squeeze, kissing his cheek loudly as he squirms against me, laughing. "Don't forget to shower. With soap. Wear deodorant, trust me on that one, use sun lotion and bug spray. And for God's sake, change your boxers and don't live only in a swimsuit."

He rolls his eyes at me, "Got it, Sister-mom." But he hugs me back, so I know he's going to miss me too.

It's ok, Wes. I know you love me, you don't have to say it. I love you too.

"Write to me once in a while, okay?"

He nods, "Only if I have something cool to say. You can send me some of your dumb Polaroids if you want to."

I smile. Reading between the brother lines. Write to me too.

"Goodnight, baby girl." Dad kisses my temple as I walk by, and I breathe in the scent of his fading Hermès aftershave, comforted. The spicy, dry scents of orange citrus and wood linger.

"Set your alarm for four-thirty, Elle. Sweet dreams." Mum's voice carries out from the side door where she's packing her bag for the day.

Heading up, I'm still a little restless, so I walk into my en suite bathroom. I lean over the large clawfoot tub and turn on the faucets, setting the water temperature and turning the plug.

Digging around in the large bureau beside the shower, I find some lavender bath salts. Perfect. Just what I need.

I run my bath, and while it's filling, I wash my face over the pedestal sink, looking at myself in the mirror. Skincare has always been a priority, Mum made sure of that, but I'm blessed with fair, clear skin that's always touched with pink, just on my cheeks.

I rub a facemask on, spreading it thickly with the flat brush. Mum always keeps them stocked for me. She's completely obsessed with skincare. The green clay makes me look like an alien. I smile in the mirror. Clay and peppermint something or other. For a youthful glow. I don't really need any help looking younger, if I'm being honest, more the opposite.

While the mask does its magic, I lay out my clothes and pack my show bag to leave by the door before returning to the bathroom. I shut the water off and slide in, moaning in pleasure. I'm still sore from water skiing, and a little from the ride today. The warm, fragrant water soothes my tired body.

I soak in the tub, filled to the brim with lavender bubbles. At first, my mind races over the events ahead of me tomorrow. I close my eyes, focus on my breathing, and count backward from two hundred, until I start to drift. I drag my relaxed, freshly moisturized body to bed, and sleep like a log until my alarm blares the following morning.

- - - 

Hope you're enjoying the story so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! Talk to you soon!

Xx Toria