High Hurdles Collection Two Page 23

  “So you’re saying she has to get more involved in the show world immediately.” Robert glanced at Lindy. Her smile quivered, but she nodded.

  “If this is what DJ really wants, then … then …” Lindy shook her head. “I have no idea how we are going to do all this.”

  “We are all going to do this together.” Joe looked at Gran, and the two of them nodded, much like the twins did, as if a master puppeteer pulled the same strings.

  “While Jackie and I aren’t involved in the jumping world, we are out in the show-ring. And we have the next horse for DJ, as soon as she is ready.”

  “I … I’ll be showing Major.” DJ cleared her throat. When they nodded at her statement, she gained some more courage. “And I’m registered for that big show in two weeks. I can’t start much sooner than that.”

  Jackie winked at her. “Just keep in mind that Herndon will be ready whenever you are. I’ve hired a jumping trainer for him since he was trained in dressage.”

  DJ gulped. Jackie said that so easily, as if hiring a trainer for a horse was no big deal at all.

  “You know what? I think we’ll bring him down to you when we can. Easier to bring the horse to the girl, though we’d rather you came to our house much more often,” Jackie added.

  “Something to keep in mind.” Brad got their attention again. “Besides having horses of their own, the big players ride for a lot of people in all stages of training. That old thing about not keeping all your eggs in one basket is so true here.”

  “So for now, DJ can stay with Major. What else does she need immediately?”

  “Two lessons jumping and one lesson in dressage every week—plus all the riding time she can get.” Bridget looked at DJ. “Yes, she can and must stay with Major, if for no other reason than to prove she can. She also needs good grades so she can attend all the shows necessary.”

  “I’m working on that.”

  “And she needs to get up on as many horses as possible. Bunny said DJ can ride her horse sometimes.”

  “That’s real nice of her,” Joe said with a pleased smile. He looked down at Gran beside him. “She seems like a real nice lady.”

  DJ stared at the worn spot on her jeans. Why was Bunny doing this? She wanted to jump big-time herself. Her attitude surely had changed.

  DJ looked over at Gran, who gave her a wise smile, the one that said “See, God knows what He is doing.”

  DJ realized she had missed something in the conversation. Something about a trust fund? Whatever that was. She’d have to ask Joe later.

  “I would appreciate it if we could have a list of the possible horse shows to attend as soon as it is available. That way we can discuss this as a family and make plans.” Lindy hadn’t said much during all the discussion, but to DJ’s ears, this sounded positive.

  “Well, I think we are on the right track.” Brad looked around the circle. “And I for one think we have been given an unprecedented opportunity here, to help a young woman go for her dreams and to be part of God’s plan for her life, if this is what He indeed wants her to do.”

  “And that we’ll learn through time and prayer. He’s given Darla Jean many talents, and I expect He wants her to develop all of them, but maybe not all at the same time.” Gran smiled again at DJ. “So I hope that all of us commit to praying daily for this child of ours and that she will commit to this, also.”

  DJ nodded along with the rest of them. Leave it to Gran to make sure all the plans were covered with prayer. DJ felt her head spinning. What if she really wasn’t all that good? What if she let these people down? And herself? And God?

  “DJ, all we expect of you is that you do your best.” Joe drilled her with his interrogator eye. “Don’t worry about any more than that. One day at a time.” He paused. “And one more thing. You have to be willing to ask for help and let us know when you are feeling overwhelmed or confused or scared or whatever.”

  “Amen to that.” Lindy’s voice carried a load of feeling.

  DJ sniffed. “I know.” She forced a smile to her dry lips. “But you might have to remind me once in a while.”

  “Her and me both,” Brad said under his breath.

  “Anyone interested in dessert?” Gran got up from her chair. “Come on, Darla Jean, help me dish up.”

  After everyone had a piece of apple pie and a beverage, DJ stopped behind her chair before sitting down. “I … I have something to say.”

  Slowly the conversation died and all eyes turned toward her.

  She shrugged and smiled a little smile. “Just thanks, that’s all. Thank you for coming, and thank you for wanting to help me. I’m a lucky kid.” She slid into her chair to the “you’re welcomes” from around the table.

  “You done good, kiddo,” Joe whispered when she went around the table later with the coffeepot, refilling cups.

  After everyone left and she got home again, DJ settled into doing her homework. Talk about going from dreaming big dreams to reality. And her job started right now. Getting and keeping her grades up, not that she already hadn’t been working on that. But thinking of horse training was much more fun than reading this book, or writing a term paper, or worst of all, algebra.

  An algebra quiz on Monday morning was becoming a weekly event. DJ and all the rest of the class groaned when the teacher began handing out papers.

  “But we had one last week,” one of the boys said.

  “And there’ll probably be one next week, too. I’ll try to mix up the days if that will make you feel better. Then you can look forward to it all week.” Mr. Henderson gave an evil laugh that brought only a few snickers from the class.

  Please, God, help me think well. Calm me down and make me remember what I’ve learned. If only she had spent more time reviewing last night.

  But DJ buckled right in and read through the problems very carefully. Then like Robert had told her, she picked out one that she felt certain she knew how to work and did it. Then the next. While she still had two out of the ten to do when the teacher called time, she let out a big sigh of relief. She had answered some of them right. She didn’t think she’d flunked.

  “I forgot to tell you.” Bridget flagged DJ down on her way to the barn that afternoon. “Would you please prepare Patches for a showing to prospective buyers tomorrow? Groom him well, put him through his paces, and wear him down some so they can ride him.”

  “This person is an experienced rider, right?”

  “That is what she said. I have already warned her that Patches can be a handful, and she sounded excited. I will not let her buy him if I do not think she can handle him.”

  “Good. I have a favor to ask you, too.”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you please come to my girls’ class and act as a judge tomorrow? I want to remind them what a show-ring feels like, and having someone different will make it seem more real.”

  “What about Andrew?”

  “He can do the Walk/Jog part, and I’ll keep him busy down at the end of the arena while you are judging the girls.”

  “Sounds like you have it all worked out. Of course I will.”

  DJ gave Patches a good grooming, all the while reminding him that he needed to behave the next day. She saddled him without time on the hot walker and took him out to the arena. By the time he’d jogged around the ring four or five times, spooked at two shadows, and snorted at something only he saw, he finally settled down to doing what DJ asked of him. He turned, backed, changed leads in a figure eight, changed gaits when asked, and even let DJ open and close the gate from his back.

  “You do as well tomorrow and you’ll make me real proud of you.” DJ rubbed his ears and fed him two extra horse cookies. “I’m going to miss you, you know that?”

  “Me too.” Mrs. Johnson stopped outside his stall. “He’s a handful, but he is fun, too. I just wish I were a better rider. …”

  “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “I sure hope so. Andrew says he’s glad. Guess that makes it wor
th it, too.” She gave Patches a carrot and stroked his nose. “Bridget and I are going up to see that other horse on Friday. You think I’ll get to feel the same about her if it works out that I buy her?”

  “I’ve only owned one horse, Major, and I can’t see ever letting him go. Bridget kept Megs.” Megs was one of Bridget’s horses from international competition.

  “I feel like I’m selling a friend, and that just doesn’t seem right.”

  Patches rubbed his nose against her cast. “Yeah, you caused that, you wild one, you.” Patches snorted at the smell of it and rubbed his forehead on her shoulder.

  “See you later, DJ. Patches, you behave tomorrow.”

  “You coming over?”

  “I don’t think so. Well, maybe. I have to bring Andrew to his lesson. Funny, I was so mad at this critter that day he dumped me in the fence, and now that he’ll be leaving, all I want to do is bawl.”

  DJ swallowed the lump she felt growing in her own throat at the sheen of tears in the woman’s eyes. “I’ll do my best with him.”

  “I know you will.”

  The next day went according to plan. By the time the prospective buyer arrived, DJ had Patches well in hand. He twitched his tail when asked to work the gate and when made to walk when he wanted to keep jogging, but otherwise he behaved.

  DJ patted his neck and told him how good he was before turning him over to the slender woman who at least knew horse talk. She could tell Bridget approved of the buyer.

  “I’ll take him,” the woman said at the end of her ride.

  “Good. But you might want to talk with DJ about some of his little tricks. She knows him better than anyone.” Bridget laid her hand on DJ’s shoulder.

  “Looks to me like you’ve done a good job with him,” the woman said after Bridget headed back to her office.

  “Thank you, but I have one major rule with Patches. Always put him on the hot walker first or else plan on plenty of time to settle him down.”

  “I don’t have a hot walker, but I can lunge him.” She stroked Patches’ neck and shoulder. “He seems willing.”

  “Today. Tomorrow he might be a firecracker ready to explode. I’ve kind of learned to read him, but just always be prepared. He likes to catch you if you shift your attention.”

  “You really are a character, aren’t you?” The buyer rubbed Patches’ ears and scratched his cheek. “I think we will do just fine, and maybe this summer we’ll see you at the local horse shows.”

  Patches nodded and blew horse cookie crumbs and fumes all over them.

  “I have a surprise for you,” DJ told her girls as they filed into the ring a bit later.

  “What?”

  “We’re going up in Briones?”

  “You brought chocolate chip cookies.” This from Krissie, who loved chocolate like Bugs Bunny loved carrots.

  “No, no. Today we’re going to pretend this is the show-ring, and we’re going to have a judge and everything, just like you will on Saturday.”

  Andrew looked at her, his eyes growing round.

  “Don’t worry, Andrew. You and I are gonna work down at the end of the arena. These three only get up to here.” She drew a line in the dirt.

  “So who’s the judge?”

  “I am.” Bridget let herself in the gate. “And we will now begin. Circle to the right, please … jog.”

  DJ kept one eye on the girls and one on Andrew. He handled a walk well now, sitting easily in the saddle and even smiling once in a while. When she asked him to trot, he swallowed, remembered to sit up straight, and squeezed his legs. Bandit obediently picked up his feet to the faster gait without fighting the bit for more speed.

  “Remember what I’ve said about sitting deep in the saddle, and keep your heels down, back straight, good. Easy hands. Good.” DJ felt pride in her young student well up within her and nearly burst out her head. Andrew, you are doing soooo good. But she kept her voice even. “Okay, now walk and reverse. Easy, keep him on the rail.”

  When she told him to, Andrew reined Bandit into the center of the ring where DJ stood. “How do you feel?”

  He looked at her, a slow grin changing his face from sober to sunshine. “I like it.”

  DJ wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him until he squeaked. “Me too, Andrew. Me too.”

  The girls rode over to join them when Bridget left the arena with a wave to DJ and Andrew.

  “Oh man, DJ, did you see what she did? She made us dismount, change sides, mount again.” Krissie made it sound as though they’d climbed Mount Everest.

  “And we had to switch horses.”

  “Good practice. You might be doing that on Saturday.”

  “I know, but Bridget is …” The three girls looked at one another and rolled their eyes.

  “So if you could do it for her, you can do it for any old judge. Now the butterflies won’t be so bad. Just tell ’em, ‘Look, butterflies, we showed under Bridget Sommersby,’ and they’ll fly in formation for sure.”

  The three left the ring giggling as usual and teasing Andrew about a little girl who followed him around like a puppy.

  DJ hustled back to the barn. She still hadn’t had time to work Major.

  And speaking of butterflies, she had better take some of her own advice. When she thought about the upcoming show and all the shows after that, the butterflies went to her brain and made her feel light-headed. Was there such a thing as butterfly brain?

  Chapter • 11

  “DJ, a Sean Maclaine called,” Lindy said when DJ got home.

  “Really?”

  “Who is he?”

  “One of the guys I met at the art class. He’s from Palo Alto.” DJ stuck her head in the fridge to find a snack.

  “Don’t eat anything now. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. I told him you’d call him back later.”

  “Okay.” DJ emerged with a handful of baby carrots. For some odd reason—in fact, she couldn’t remember ever doing such before—DJ walked over, kissed her mother on the cheek, and headed for her room to clean up.

  The boys met her in the middle of the stairs, pelting down as fast as she was leaping up.

  “We gots to set the table.”

  “We saw a dog.”

  “Hurry, DJ.”

  “Huh?” She stopped at the top and looked over the railing. “What dog?”

  The boys stopped their charge and looked up at her, two round faces framed by squared-off bangs. “At the pound. Her name is Queenie. She licked my face.” They ran their sentences together—as usual.

  “What kind of dog?”

  “Black.” They galloped off, giggles floating back to remind DJ they had indeed been there. She debated going after them and pumping her mother for information but decided getting cleaned up would make her more popular. A dog. They were really going to get a dog. But they hadn’t said if she was a puppy. No, not with a name like Queenie. An older dog, half grown. But what kind? Were they getting her for sure or … ?

  DJ washed and dressed in double time.

  “She’s about a year old. The people who owned her before discovered their little boy was allergic to dogs, so they had to get rid of her. She’s part Lab and …” Lindy shrugged. “Kind of a mixture, I guess.”

  “She liked us.”

  “She’s had all her shots and seems to have been well trained.”

  “How come you didn’t bring her home?” Robert asked. “Sounds like she belongs here.”

  “Well, I … I thought we should all see her first.”

  DJ rolled her lips together to keep from laughing. Her mother was not a dog lover. She was the main reason they’d never had a dog. In fact, her mother wasn’t much of an animal lover at all.

  “Okay. DJ, can you make time tomorrow right after school? Shouldn’t take us long.”

  “I’ll make it. My lesson isn’t until four.”

  “We gets a dog. We gets a dog.”

  DJ felt like joining their chant. For a change the twins were right
on.

  “Oh, and, DJ, I forgot, but there’s mail for you. From that gift shop in Connecticut.”

  DJ excused herself and found the envelope on the counter in the kitchen by the phone. She opened it as she made her way back to the table. A check lay in the folds of the paper.

  “She paid for the last shipment and ordered two dozen more. Wait till Amy sees this,” DJ spoke as she read. She looked up at her parents. “And more of the Stormy prints, too. She says those foal cards just trot right off the display they set up on the counter.” DJ sank into her chair and reread the letter. “That shop was the trial, and now she plans to carry them in her other shop, too. She asked if Amy could do some horse pictures, too, since those go over very well.” She read from the letter.

  “Man, oh man. Wait until I tell Mrs. Adams.”

  “You better tell Amy first. And I’d suggest you call Bottomly Farms and ask if they’d like to carry the note cards. They should sell a lot of merchandise from their tack shop the day of the show. That would give you more exposure around here.” Lindy handed one of the boys her napkin to help mop up the water he spilled.

  “Don’t worry,” she said when Bobby apologized. “No big deal.”

  DJ blinked at her mother’s calm reaction to the spill. She sure was different lately. “Good idea. You really think they’d like to carry our notes?”

  “Never hurts to ask.”

  “If they do, that means we’ll have to go back to the printer soon.” DJ chewed in between talking.

  “Seems to me the two of you have a good thing going,” Robert said. “You better start thinking of setting it up like a real business. Get a separate bank account, that kind of thing. Maybe you should make your mother the marketing person. She could set up accounts while she is home on leave.”

  “Set up accounts?” DJ could feel her eyes stretch along with her mind. “You mean we might have a real business after all our crazy money schemes?”