High Hurdles Collection Two Read online

  “Me too. We’ll be on the team together, you just watch.”

  The flower of desire unfurled in DJ’s heart region. “I want it so much.” The words came out more as a prayer than just a thought.

  Hilary stuck out her hand. “We’ll make Bridget proud.”

  DJ took Hilary’s hand, her skin golden against the mahogany of Hilary’s, both hands strong with hard work and determination. The warm clasp made her think of them as more like sisters than friends. She looked up to read the same feeling in Hilary’s dark eyes.

  The moment hung, like a horse and rider in flight, held up by air and determination alone.

  “Together.”

  Hilary nodded. “Together.”

  Was that what the Apache had felt when they joined as blood brothers? The question played in DJ’s mind on the way back to the barn. Gran called moments like these miracle moments. Couldn’t times like that be a teeny peek into what God had in store for them?

  Today she’d put Patches on the hot walker and start with Omega. What fun it would be to find out what kind of personality the filly had and if she was as smart and sweet as her owner said. DJ stopped in the tack room for a grooming bucket. She’d better get a move on or Andrew would be ready before she was.

  Amy sat on the bench, her saddle beside her as she cleaned one saddle skirt. “How come these can get so dirty with a cover over them?” She dug her rag into the flat can of saddle soap.

  “Got me. One good thing about riding English, the saddles have less leather to clean. Do you already have all your stalls done?”

  Amy shook her head. “No wheelbarrow. One’s got a flat tire, and Tony’s using the other.”

  “Tony? He’s cleaning more than just his horse’s stall?”

  “Yep, Tony. Guess he wanted or needed extra money, and now he’s cleaning and grooming. Just like the rest of us poor slaves. Other than those who teach, like you know who.”

  “Yeah, as if I really miss mucking stalls. You can always do my saddle when you get done with yours.”

  “Your Crosby?”

  “Get real. I’m only gonna use that in shows, other than enough to get used to it.”

  “But your dad said—”

  “I know I’m supposed to use it, but would you?” DJ shook her head.

  “Besides, if I left it here, it could sprout legs and walk off—you know that.”

  Amy sighed. “Yeah, Bunny says someone took a bridle of hers—it was even locked up.”

  DJ had started out the door but stopped. “Really?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  DJ swung the bucket, rattling the brushes and currycomb. “Wow, nothing’s been stolen around here in—” she paused, thinking—“in years. Stuff always turns up later, misplaced or whatever.”

  “I know.” Amy used a clean rag to rub off the excess saddle soap and bring a fine luster to the leather. She lowered her voice. “What if she just wants to make trouble?”

  “Huh?” DJ shook her head, making a face at the same time. “Why?”

  Amy shrugged. “I’m clueless, but I think we better check with Joe.”

  DJ thought about the two very different conversations, one with Hilary that left her feeling like she was tap-dancing on top of a mountain, and the other with Amy that left a sour taste in her mouth and a confused mind. Why would anyone try to make trouble? And if the bridle was stolen, who would do such a thing? Had anyone told Bridget yet? The next meeting of the academy members wasn’t until just before the jumping clinic up at Wild Horse Ranch.

  “I sure hope this mystery is solved long before then,” she said to Omega while she brushed the horse’s back. “You stand for me to pick your hooves like you are for grooming and this job will be a piece of cake.” The crosstied horse flicked her ears, listening to everything DJ murmured.

  She stood for the hoof cleaning, walked and trotted on the lead, and worked at the end of the lunge at both a walk and a trot.

  “Someone’s been teaching you well,” DJ said when she returned Omega to her stall. She cross-tied the horse again and, after a pat on the shoulder, headed for the tack room to get a bridle and saddle. It was a shame Rhonda wasn’t here to question about how far the filly’s training had gone. Was she already accustomed to the saddle and bridle? Had anyone been on her back?

  Obviously, the filly’s training had not yet covered accepting the saddle. Her eyes rolled white when DJ tried to set the saddle on her back, and she pulled as far away as the cross-ties allowed.

  “Okay, let’s start again.”

  Later, Andrew was waiting by Patches’ stall when DJ returned the horse to his stall.

  “Hi, Andrew, what’s up?”

  “Bandit is ready for the lesson.” The slender boy pushed back the lock of mousy hair that always fell over his forehead.

  “Are you?” DJ removed Patches’ halter and let herself out of the blue nylon web gate.

  “I guess.”

  “Where’s your helmet?”

  Andrew fell into step beside her. “At Bandit’s stall.”

  “You glad to be back riding?”

  He shrugged.

  Well, you’re happier than you used to be. If only you liked to ride, you’d be the perfect size to sit on Omega’s back once she gets used to the saddle. She tousled Andrew’s hair, wishing she could give him an injection of her own love for horses. At least he was getting over his fear.

  “You know, Andrew, I’m really proud of you for working hard at this. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

  The look of gratitude in his eyes made her want to hug him. She still wondered how stories and footage on TV of a person falling off a horse and getting hurt could have such an effect on a child as they had on Andrew.

  “Today we’ll do review on the lunge line, then I’ll walk beside you while you ride Bandit by yourself.”

  Andrew came to a dead stop. His blue eyes had deepened in color, as if thunderclouds marred their surface. His chin squared, and he clenched his hands at his sides.

  “It’s okay. I won’t be more than this far from his bridle.” DJ held her hands about a foot apart. Andrew didn’t say anything, but his eyes shouted I’m scared!

  Bandit nickered as the two of them walked up. Andrew dug a piece of carrot from his pocket and palmed it for the pony. He didn’t even flinch when the gray whiskers tickled the palm of his hand, or when Bandit nosed his arm, pleading for more.

  “You want to bring him out?”

  Andrew nodded. He unsnapped the cross-ties and led the pony into the aisle for DJ to check his grooming and tacking jobs.

  DJ nodded and smiled at the boy. “Good for you. Bandit looks great.”

  She tested the girth with two fingers. “Tight enough, too. Did he puff up his belly on you?”

  Andrew nodded again, and this time a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “He likes to do that.” She patted the pony’s neck. “Okay, let’s get to the ring.”

  “Where’s the lunge line?” Andrew waited for an answer.

  “Up at the tack room. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.”

  Andrew did fine on the lesson until DJ unsnapped the lunge line. “No.” Fear vibrated in that one word.

  DJ paused. She knew it was time for this. Andrew had to become more independent. “I’ll walk right beside his bridle.” She forced herself to look into Andrew’s eyes. “You’ll be okay, I promise.” She waited, thinking he might just dismount and leave the arena.

  Instead, he stared back at her, as if looking deep into her heart to be sure she meant it. Then his shoulders drooped and he nodded.

  DJ felt like she’d just kicked a puppy. “Okay, now, you know what to do.” She waited.

  Slowly, Andrew straightened his back, then his neck and head. He lowered his heels in the stirrups, took a deep breath, and evened his reins. Elbows in, shoulders square, he looked at DJ once more and nodded.

  “Signal Bandit to go forward.”

  Andrew squeezed his
legs and clucked the get-up sound. Bandit walked forward.

  “Good job, Andrew.” Together they circled the arena. “Now turn and let’s go the other way.”

  Andrew tightened his inside rein, and Bandit obliged, circling toward the center and then back on the rail, walking the other way.

  “Good. Now ask him to stop.”

  At each command, Bandit did as asked, even making a smaller circle, then reversing it.

  With each accomplishment, DJ could feel the tension in the air relax and see the same with Andrew’s riding. Back at the gate, she stopped after telling Andrew to do so. She turned back to face him.

  “So how do you feel?”

  An almost smile lightened the boy’s eyes and nearly lifted the corners of his mouth. “Okay.”

  “Okay! Is that all? After your first ride by yourself?”

  “You walked beside me.”

  “But you made Bandit do everything by yourself. Andrew, you did it!”

  The grin made it this time. “I did, huh.” He leaned forward and patted Bandit’s shoulder. “Can I go now?”

  “Sure. Lead Bandit back to the barn. I saw your mother waiting for you.”

  “You’ll tell her I rode by myself?”

  “You bet. I like giving people good news.” She waited as Andrew dismounted and led Bandit through the gate, then walked beside them back to the barn. While Andrew untacked and brushed the pony, she told Mrs. Johnson how the lesson had gone.

  “I’m really proud of him,” DJ said. “It wasn’t easy, but he kept on.”

  “I’m proud, too. He did better than his mother.” Mrs. Johnson lowered her voice. “I haven’t told him Patches ran away with me.”

  “Oh.” What more could she say? She wouldn’t tell Andrew, either, not until he was far more certain of himself.

  “Thank you, DJ.” Mrs. Johnson squeezed DJ’s hand. “See you on Thursday.”

  DJ headed for home, telling Amy all the good things that had happened. “Now, if only Mom will let me register for the jumping clinic.”

  “You got the money?”

  “Yep, but not much extra. The farrier will be here Wednesday.” They both stopped their bikes at the end of Amy’s driveway. “Sure wish you were jumping Josh.”

  “I’d rather game him. Bridget suggested I start with the barrels.”

  “Cool.” DJ waved good-bye and pedaled up the street. Now to ask.

  But since dinner was about ready, she cleaned up first and joined the others at the table. Once the food was served and everyone eating, DJ took in a deep breath, sent up a please, God, and dived in. “There’s a jumping clinic the first Saturday in April. Is it okay if I go?”

  Robert looked up from cutting his chicken breast. “I don’t see why not.”

  DJ felt her heart leap. She could go!

  Lindy looked first at DJ, then Robert. “Don’t you think we should discuss this first?”

  DJ sighed. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

  Chapter • 11

  “Is there any reason DJ can’t go?” Robert asked.

  “I want to go,” announced the boy on DJ’s right.

  “Me too,” the other twin chimed in. As usual, DJ wished she could tell them apart.

  “How about we finish dinner first and then talk about it?” Lindy said. The furrow appeared between her eyebrows as if by magic.

  DJ groaned inside. Her mother could talk a topic to death. Why not just agree with Robert? And since when did they discuss things like this? The other voice in her mind answered the question almost before it was asked. This “discussing” was to be another “family” thing. Oh, for the simple days when she could just ask Gran.

  DJ returned to the table discussion just in time to catch something about the boys’ new school. Both Robert and Lindy had taken time off work to take the boys there for their first day. DJ tried to slam the lid on the little green-eyed monster peeking out of his lair. Jealousy sure was lurking. Since when did Lindy take time off work for anything?

  DJ felt like she had two heads, complete with two sets of eyes and ears. One head paid attention at the table and the other meandered off. Maybe she was really two different people. One was here, and the other someplace else. She stayed with the one somewhere else. How was she going to get everything done at the barns? Four hours of teaching and working horses five days a week, plus one dressage and one jumping lesson a week with Bridget.

  “Darla Jean!”

  DJ returned to her at-the-table self with a thump. “Huh?”

  “I asked if you had heard anything on the art competition?” Lindy’s attempt at a smile didn’t quite make it.

  DJ could see the effort it cost. She shook her head. “No.” She hadn’t thought of it since giving the drawing to Mrs. Adams. “I won’t be chosen. Remember what happened last time? Honorable mention. Big deal.”

  “Some people think honorable mentions are a very big deal.”

  “What’s a horrible mens?” Bobby asked and Billy seconded.

  DJ caught Robert’s smile.

  He turned to the boys. “An honorable mention is a prize for doing something very well, but not quite good enough for a fancy ribbon.”

  “Oh.”

  “DJ gets pretty ribbons at the horse shows.”

  “But not the art shows.” DJ glanced at her mother.

  “Yes, and that just shows where she puts most of her effort.”

  DJ kept her next comment to herself. Her mother just didn’t get it. Horse shows counted. Art shows—well, they were better than algebra.

  Thinking of which, she’d better get to her homework. She would ask again about the clinic after her mother played with the boys for a while.

  “Can I be excused? I have homework to do.”

  “As soon as we have devotions.” Robert reached for the Bible he kept on a corner of the table.

  DJ managed to keep a blank look on her face and the groan inside. A sneak peek at her watch said it was nearly eight already. And she had to help clear the table, too.

  During the prayer, Robert asked God to bring healing to Maria so she could come back to live with them soon. DJ again got the idea she’d missed something else while she’d been off trying to figure out how to get everything done.

  As soon as they said amen, DJ leaped to her feet and gathered up both her dishes and those of the boys. After a quick rinse, she loaded them into the dishwasher and returned for a second load. The others were still at the table, with Lindy pouring Robert another cup of coffee. DJ cleared the rest of the plates and silver.

  “If you hand those things to the boys, they can carry them into the kitchen,” Robert said with a smile.

  DJ nodded. “That’s okay,” she said and kept going. Letting the boys help took even longer.

  “No, I mean it. They have to help with chores, too.”

  DJ groaned. She handed one the bread basket and the other the meat platter. They followed her into the kitchen. “Just put them over there.” One of the boys slid the meat platter onto the counter. A glass clinked over on the tile. Water spread across the surface and dripped down the crack beside the stove.

  “Sorry”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know.” She could hear the jab of her answer. Please let me hurry.

  She kept cleaning while he left the room, then hurried up the stairs to where her homework waited. She left the book report until last, and the clock had already clicked over ten by the time she opened the book.

  At the same moment, she remembered the clinic. She still didn’t have permission. She found Robert and Lindy dozing on the sofa, the late-evening newscaster talking about a shooting in Oakland. They both looked beat.

  DJ paused. Maybe she’d ask in the morning. Just then Robert opened his eyes and, removing his arm from behind Lindy’s shoulders, stretched and yawned.

  Glancing at the TV, he said, “Is it that late already?”

  DJ shifted from one foot to the oth
er.

  “What do you need, hon?”

  “About the clinic.” She glanced at her mother. “Did you … ah, I mean …”

  “Yeah, we talked it over. You can go.”

  Lindy’s eyelids fluttered open. “Go where?”

  “DJ is asking for permission to attend the jumping clinic. I said yes. Any reason why not?”

  Lindy looked up at DJ. “I think your attitude lately could stand some improvement.”

  DJ nodded. “Sorry.” Now she sounded like the twins.

  “I think all our attitudes could stand some adjusting,” Robert said.

  “Mine especially. I think we’re all feeling pushed. Having Maria back would make a big difference.”

  “But that won’t be for another week or two, so for now we have to make do.” Lindy swung her feet to the floor. “Thank God my mother and your dad will take the boys in the afternoons after school.”

  “I hate to impose on them like that but …” Robert shrugged. “For now, I don’t see any other way.”

  DJ knew she should volunteer to help, but there was no way. “I can go, then?” This time she looked right at her mother. Lindy nodded. Before she could change her mind, DJ threw back a thanks and dashed up the stairs. She counted the money in her drawer. Not enough. She’d have to ask Joe to take her by the bank on her way home from school. Maybe she should just get a checking account like Hilary’s. Sure would make things easier.

  The next afternoon, she took out enough money to pay for both the clinic and the farrier. Between training and shoeing, she was almost broke. Good thing payday was coming up on Friday at the Academy. Now, if only she could get the note cards reprinted and boxed and those portraits finished. But when? And how? Printing took money, too.

  “Why the frown?” Joe asked when she swung the door to the truck closed.

  “Just money problems.” And time problems and … The little voice would have continued if she hadn’t shut it off.

  “Just, huh? You’re kind of young to have money problems.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “DJ, I don’t know how many times Mel and I have said that we will pay for the clinics.”