Mystery of the Midnight Rider (Nancy Drew Diaries #3)(5)

George looked disappointed. “No jump-off?”

“Nope, sorry.” Payton smiled. "But don’t worry, there will probably be one in the Grand Prix if you come to watch that. And some of the other jumper classes too.”

"Cool.” George immediately looked happier.

"Anyway, like I was saying before, we’re all really impressed with how you did just now.” I gave George a sidelong look. "Jump—off or no jump-off.”

"Yeah,” Bess said. “Especially considering that upsetting news you got right before you started.”

Payton shrugged. "I learned back when I was still riding ponies that I can’t let anything distract me when I’m in the ring. I just need to focus and get the job done, no matter what.” She cracked a wry smile. "My dad calls it the Evans Edge.”

"The Evans Edge?” George grinned. “Love it! But now I need a motto like that of my own.” She thought for a second. "How about the Fayne Fierceness?” She struck a pose like an action hero.

“More like the Fayne Fail,” Bess said.

Ned and I laughed while George shot her cousin a disgruntled look. "That’s still better than the Marvin Misery.”

We spent the rest of the walk inventing insulting names for one another. As soon as we arrived at the barn, though, we forgot all about that. There was too much to see. Horses were hanging their heads out over their stalls doors. Riders hurried here and there. Farther down the aisle, a farrier was tapping nails into the shoe of a patient horse.

As we headed down the aisle the opposite way, a young woman appeared. She was dressed in jeans and short boots, with a rag tucked into one back pocket and a hoof pick sticking out of the other. Her hair was a mess, and there was a big greenish smudge on the front of her T-shirt.

“Sorry I didn’t get up to the ring to meet you, Payton,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll take him now.”

“Thanks, Jen.” Payton handed the reins to the woman, who cooed at the horse as she led him away.



“Who’s that?” George asked as Jen and the horse disappeared around a comer. "Your personal servant? Must be nice.”



Payton laughed. “Not mine—the horse’s,” she said. “Jen is a groom. It’s her job to help take care of the horses. A big, busy barn like Dana’s couldn’t survive without a team of great grooms.” She patted a horse that was sticking its nose out over the nearest stall. “So would you guys like to meet my horses?”

“Sure, we’d love to!” Bess said. “How many do you have?” “Nine, but only four are at this show.” Payton headed down the aisle, with the rest of us following. “The rest are either youngsters or taking a break.”

“Nine horses? Wow.” George whistled. “And here I thought it was hard work taking care of my family’s dog!”

Payton laughed. "Luckily, I don’t have to take care of them all myself. Most of my horses live at Dana’s barn, where her amazing staff does all the hard work. All I need to do is show up and ride.” She stopped in front of a stall where a copper-colored chestnut with a blaze was nosing at a pile of hay. "Here’s one of my guys now...

She went on to show us a couple of more horses. "So which one are you riding in the Grand Prix?” Bess asked as she patted a pretty gray mare.



Payton smiled. “I was just about to introduce you to that one. Come on, let’s go see Midnight.”



We followed her to yet another stall. Inside stood a tall, impressive-looking dark bay without a speck of white on him anywhere. A weather-beaten man with slicked-back dark hair was running a brush down the horse’s long legs.

"This is Mickey,” Payton said, gesturing toward the man. “He’s Midnight’s groom.” She introduced us, though Mickey hardly looked up from his task.

"Midnight is gorgeous,” Bess said, reaching out to touch the horse’s velvety nose. The horse sniffed her hand, then snorted loudly, blowing horse snot all over Bess’s face and dress.

"Yeah, and he knows it!” Payton laughed. “He’s quite a character. Hope he didn’t get you too gross.”

“No biggie,” Bess said with a smile, reaching into her purse for a tissue. That’s one of the good things about Bess. She might look all girly and delicate, but it takes more than a little horse snot to faze her!

Payton turned to Mickey. “I was thinking of taking him out for some hand grazing, if that’s okay.”



Mickey just nodded, reaching for the halter hanging just outside the stall door and quickly buckling it onto the horse’s big head. Then Payton clipped a lead line to Midnight’s halter and led him out.



“Wow, he looks even bigger out here,” George commented.

“I guess a bigger horse must make those Grand Prix jumps look smaller, huh?” I joked.

Payton chuckled. "It doesn’t hurt,” she agreed. “Do you guys want to tag along while I graze him?” She reached into her pocket and held her hand up to the horse’s muzzle. I wasn’t close enough to see what she’d pulled out, but whatever it was, the horse slurped it up eagerly and then nuzzled her for more.

"What do you feed a horse like Midnight?” I asked. "Treats, I mean—like you just gave him.”