The Eighty-Dollar Champion - Elizabeth Letts [87]
Harry was a practical man, and he knew that there was no point in complaining about the hand he was dealt.
At the beginning of the war in Holland, the Dutch had mustered up an army, gathering all of the young men, horses, and provisions they could, but their army had been defeated without ever engaging in battle. The inevitability of the German conquest was overwhelming. One minute, young Harry, age twelve, lived in a free country. Then, in just the blink of an eye, the queen had fled to England, the Nazis had taken over, and whole segments of the Dutch population were under siege.
The de Leyer family had not given up without a fight; they had done whatever they could, however small, to resist the occupation. His father had used his status and influence in the village to organize resistance, and had ended up having to hide from the Nazis or risk deportation to a concentration camp. Harry knew what it felt like to face odds bigger than you are. He knew how to fight, but he had no experience with an enemy like this one, an enemy from within. And he was not just a fighter; he was also a practical man, a man with a wife and a family to support. He was determined to face the reality and come up with a plan. Johanna could not manage the horses alone. He needed to sell them off now, while he could still function.
The doctor had told him point-blank: Harry would lose his power of speech—signaling the end to his career at Knox, even if he did beat the odds and survive. Harry would need to put his financial affairs in order. The shining pathway that had opened up in front of him—the circuit, the blue ribbons, the shows—all of it faded into the background. All that mattered was to figure out how to provide for his family.
Branchville was another big event. This show drew the New Jersey and Pennsylvania crowd, but the competition was just as stiff.
In the open jumper stakes, Dave Kelley, once again competing against himself, was slated to ride both Snowman and Andante. Harry helped saddle up the horse, and Dave watched as Harry gave the gray a pat and whispered something in his furry ear.
Earlier in the afternoon, Harry had pulled Dave aside and told him about the diagnosis and that he was going to have to sell his horses. Dave had agreed to buy all of them. Dave knew that Harry’s horses were healthy and well cared for. He could use them for his own riding establishment.
In the bleachers, Harry watched with grim satisfaction as Dave steered the gray horse around the course. Dave rode bareheaded in a light-colored tweed jacket, canary pegged breeches, and black boots. Over each fence he released his hands, his balance so good that he maintained a straight line from each hand to the horse’s mouth, even over the large fences. Unlike Harry, he did not ride on a loose rein, but he had watched Harry’s style with the horse and was careful to give the horse room to stretch out his neck and head. The horse went clean, then clean again. Once again, Snowman won the open jumper stakes. Harry walked him into the ring to accept his owner’s prize, but there was scant joy in it, and Harry sensed that the big horse felt his mood. Snowman had been showing all summer and had brought home the championship or reserve championship at every show. Right now, he stood first in the standings for the Professional Horseman’s Association year-end award.
Harry took the blue ribbon from Dave and thanked his friend. “What do you want to do with this horse?” Dave asked. Harry knew that plenty of people would like to buy the gelding now. With his string of wins, the big gray was by far the most valuable horse in the de Leyer stable.
But Harry shook his head. “Not this one,” Harry said. “This one stays with me. I won’t sell him.”
Harry had made a solemn promise when he’d bought Snowman back from the doctor, and Snowman had already repaid him a hundredfold. Snowman was part of the family. Harry had sold the horse once; he would never sell him