Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

forward! You’re riding like a sack of bloody potatoes!”
    Len’s voice rang in Ellie’s ears the next day. She could feel the sweat prickling in her hair under her hat and soaking through the back of her blue T-shirt. It was almost lunchtime and the sun was blazing down. Picasso, the dark bay working hunter pony she was riding, was having one of his days where he seemed determined to throw her off. He’d started by sidling and shying and then had a massive bucking fit, dumping her on the ground. She could tell there was nothing wrong with him; he was just in the mood for playing up. He was the most beautiful pony and stunning in the ring, but he was highly strung and temperamental. Ellie had bonded with him and he had days now where he would nuzzle her and show some affection, but on other days the devil just seemed to be inside him and he would throw diva-like tantrums for no reason at all.
    “Forward!” barked Len. Ellie used her legs so hard that Picasso plunged to one side. She was ready for him, though, and moved with him, pulling his head up, circling him around. If only it wasn’t so hot. There wasn’t a breath of air and she could feel the heat rising from Picasso’s dark coat. Her legs were aching and her hands damp with sweat.
    “Rising trot! Work him on!” Picasso started to settle into a steadier trot, arching his neck as he admired his shadow on the ground. At the other end of the school, Luke was riding Troy, a large working hunter. As she passed, he teasingly held the reins in one hand and brought Troy from a canter to a smooth halt, as if showing off how easily it could be done.
    Ellie glared. Troy was a gentle, affectionate horse, always eager to please. Totally different from Picasso.
    Luke just grinned infuriatingly at her.
    Len dragged out four low jumps. “Get rid of your stirrups,” he ordered Ellie. “You too, Luke. You can join in with that bay.”
    Troy! Ellie snapped in her head. She hated it when her uncle didn’t use the horses’ names. It seemed so disrespectful, as if they were just machines to him.
    Bringing Picasso to a halt, she crossed her stirrups, her heart sinking. Even on a good day, Picasso had a tendency to buck when he first started jumping. She had a feeling she’d be hitting the floor again.
    She was right. As she set off over the jumps, Picasso went faster and faster, and without her stirrups Ellie slipped in the saddle and lost her balance. When Picasso landed after the final jump, he threw his head down and bucked mischievously. She flew through the air and thudded into the sand.
    Len swore. Catching Picasso, he brought him back over as Ellie got to her feet, slightly bruised and fed up, but not badly hurt. “That’ll teach you not to lose contact!” Len said.
    Well, thanks for worrying if I’m all right , Ellie muttered to herself. She met her uncle’s flint-like eyes and vaulted back on.
    “Do it again. Do it right!” he said brusquely.
    Ellie rode Picasso at the fences again. This time she stayed balanced and kept the contact, so was ready when he bucked at the end.
    Her uncle gave a brief nod of approval.
    He turned to Luke, who managed the fences perfectly on Troy, keeping in perfect balance with the horse and making it look easy.
    “Nice work,” Len commented.
    He made them ride over the fences again and again, varying the distances between jumps until he was happy with the way Troy and Picasso were going. “Right, take those animals up the lane.” Opening the gate, he marched back down to the yard.
    “Animals!” Ellie exclaimed as she and Luke rode out. “Sometimes I think he would be just as happy with a business showing cars or tractors!”
    “I know what you mean,” Luke agreed, letting Troy walk out on a loose rein. “The horses have always been a business to Len, but he used to enjoy being around them before—at least he seemed to. I don’t know when I last saw him ride just for pleasure, or even spend some time with a horse