“Emil, hurry up!” Alice Winter groaned, rolling her eyes as she watched the older youth flirt shamelessly with one of the beginner riders, his golden hazel eyes alight with whatever story he was telling. It had started rather recently and rather abruptly - one day, Emilio Capitani decided he needed, absolutely needed to be the best flirt in the room and that required practice. Thus, all he had been doing in his spare time at the barn was exactly that. Not that Ali was any better, if she was going to be really honest. At fourteen, she was quite good at the language of courtship, better than most in part thanks to all the acting lessons her mother insisted on. And while she already was quite good at wrapping boys around her little finger, there was one man who had her heart. And it sure as hell was not the annoying italian.

“Emil! If you don’t tack up now, I will go without you,” she wagged a finger at her friend before turning on her heels and stomping out of the viewing room lounge. Why were boys so stupid? She wondered. Not just Emil but, her cheeks blushed thinking of him, also Charles Whittemore. Why didn’t he simply see her? Walking to the tack room, she quickly grabbed her grooming bag and tack for her horse Prince. The grey warmblood had been a birthday present - not one to keep but a lease and he was living up to his name in every sense. The past few months had been a blast, the horse more forward than any Ali rode before but his easy mannerism and desire to please only grew her confidence. And, as she smugly noted, as her own confidence grew, John started letting her exercise some of his clients’ horses. And while it was always under his indirect supervision, Ali couldn’t have been more proud.

Dropping off her load by the stall, she glanced behind her to confirm that Emil was not in any rush. Frankly, the barn seemed silent which was quite typical on a Sunday afternoon. The few folks who were in the 2pm lesson were outside with John and the Whittemore brothers were taking a weekend off, resting before the season started the following Wednesday. All of the barn rats - the girls for sure - were fawning over Capitani which meant that Ali could take her time. Slipping into the grey’s stall, she kissed his pink snip and slipped him a cookie before starting to brush him, humming the number one song of the week. Her lips grinned when she realized it was a pop song, a start difference to a few months ago when John was blasting watzes twenty-four seven while his sons were forced to participate in the debutant ball. Not that Ali minded but it was nice to be back to normal.

Finishing the grooming and slipping on the gelding’s brush boots, the girl started on the saddle, adjusting the breastplate to ensure that it was secure before clipping the grey to the wall, leaving him to relax. As she closed the stall door, her eyes scanned the hall one more time. Nope, no Capitani, not even the sound of his footsteps. Sighing, she grabbed her helmet and gloves before wandering out into the sunshine and walking up to the huge jump ring, the white railing crisp and impressive. It had always been her favorite arena on the property since she was a little girl, taking her first lessons on the lunge line. John had stood in the middle, constantly fixing her position and telling her to keep her heels down. She shuddered - that comment still haunted her on some bad days.

“Hey Ali,” John Whittemore was in his usual arena corner, chewing on some long strand of grass, his blue eyes observing the trio of beginner riders with a reluctant calm. Ali grinned, leaning against the fence from the outside and letting her own eyes wander.

“The girl on Rio is posting on the wrong diagonal,” she commented after a second, pleased when John’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Good catch kiddo,” he nodded in approval before turning to his students. “Jade, what lead are you on?”

“The right one?” came the girl’s flustered response making John humm with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, I think I am.”

“And which one is the right one?”

“The inside?” Ali hid a smirk but John’s frown in her direction showed that her coach was less than amused.

“Okay guys, walk and come here. I want to go over something,” waiting for all three of the horses to slow down and the girls to give enthusiastically big pets before they started making their way over. Turning to face Ali, the man gave her a stern look. “And you, miss, will do well to remember that you also couldn’t tell your diagonal one day not so long ago. It is not good to laugh when someone is trying to figure out this sport. A very unnatural one I might add.” He kept his voice low and even but Ali bit her lip, feeling rather ashamed for her reaction. “If you ever want to teach or be a good rider yourself, you need to keep in mind where you started. Compassion, humbleness and patience - those need to be your greatest strengths.”

“I’m sorry John, I didn’t think,” Ali bowed her head.

“That is also a good one,” he grinned before waving her off. “Didn’t you and Emil beg to go on a trail ride?”

“He was busy with his fanclub,” Ali rolled her eyes. “Guess I should go check if he is finally getting tacked up.”

“Stick to the high ground when you’re there - the same what we did yesterday. It’s still muddy and slippery in the lower parts.”

“Will do!” Ali waved before starting back to the barn, picking up a daisy on her way and absently plucking at the petals. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.