by Laura Moore
The waitress tallied the bill and ripped the check off her pad, then laid it on the table. Jade stretched out her hand, but Hammond got there first. “This one’s on me,” he said.
“That’s not necessary. I—”
“Relax. You’ll be paying my expenses from here on out.”
“Good point. Okay, then, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He gave her an easy smile. “I’ll be in touch soon, Miss Radcliffe.”
AFTER LEAVING the diner, Jade had picked up the supplies for the aquarium at the pet store. All that was missing were the fish, but she’d decided to hold off buying them until the day before school opened, so she could bring them directly to their new home. Moving them twice, from the store to her cottage and then to the classroom, would stress them unnecessarily. She didn’t want to deal with the horror of dead fish floating on the surface of the tank during the first week of school.
Steadman’s Saddle Shop was her next stop. Known as the best tack shop in Loudoun County for the quality of its merchandise and the attention the Steadmans gave their customers in choosing the right saddle, martingale, or riding helmet, the store tended to be busiest in the morning or during the lunch hour. Thus Jade wasn’t surprised to find the parking lot nearly empty in the middle of the afternoon. While it would have been nice to see some of the local horse people and have a chance to spread the word about her riding program, she was just as happy to inspect the selection of tack without interruption. And she’d be able to catch up with Adam and Sara Steadman in the process.
Entering Steadman’s was like walking into a vault of memories. When Jade was a kid, her dad brought her with him when he needed to pick up a new bit or halter or protective boots for one of the horses. He and Adam had been good friends, and, while they were talking horses and local competitions, Sara would slip Jade a lollipop, and a carrot treat to give to Doc when she got back to Rosewood.
She occasionally came here with her mom too. In hindsight, not all of those memories were pleasant. For instance, there was the day her mom brought her to buy a show coat; Jade was five years old and entering her very first walk-trot class at the local horse show. A beaming Sara Steadman had led them to the children’s section, where miniature hunt coats hung from a circular rack.
“From here to here, Jade, are the coats in your size,” she’d said, spreading her arms around a section of the rack. “Tell me which ones you like and we’ll try them on you.”
Jade hadn’t hesitated, marching up to the dark-gray pinstripe jacket. “I want this one, because it’s the same as Margot’s and I want to ride as good as she does.”
No sooner had she finished her sentence than her mom grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her back. “We’ll take a navy coat, Sara.”
Even at that age, Jade had felt the awkwardness of the moment. After a short silence, Sara said, “It might look nice to have your daughters in matching coats—”
Before Sara could finish, Jade’s mom cut her off. “I have only one daughter.”
Which Jade had realized was true. As Mom had said so many times, Jordan and Margot were her stepdaughters, so that must mean they didn’t really count.
But Jade also knew that interrupting people was rude, which was probably why Mrs. Steadman had that strange expression on her face.
Then Mom had turned to her, and even now Jade could hear the edge in her voice when she said, “You’ll wear a blue jacket to the Crestview show, Jade, and that’s final. The jacket will go well with all the blue ribbons you’re going to win. And soon you’ll be winning more classes than either of them.” She’d made it sound like a promise.
No need to ask who “them” was. Jade didn’t understand why Mom disliked her not-real daughters and seemed to actually hate Margot, but it must be because Margot was always trying to get Dad to pay attention to her. It made him angry. And it made her mom’s eyes narrow until they were green slits.
But on that afternoon, Jade was her little darling, her adorable angel. And Jade was getting a blue riding coat and was going to win blue ribbons on the best pony in the whole world.
Never once did it cross Jade’s mind, then or even in the nine years that followed, that her mom would ever think of her as anything but her darling, her beautiful green-eyed princess.
But at fourteen she’d gone from beloved to reviled practically overnight. Despised almost as much as Margot—and, boy, that was saying something.
Her earlier meeting with Greg Hammond must be causing these long-buried memories to assail her. She needed to shake them off and remind herself that she was at Steadman’s because of the future, a future she was building with the sisters she loved despite her mother’s poisonous attitude, so that together they could keep alive their family’s tradition of raising and working with horses.
When the tack shop’s door shut with a tinkling chime of the brass bell, Adam Steadman looked up from behind the cash register, where he was ringing up a customer’s purchase. His face split into a wide smile of welcome. “Is that you, Jade Radcliffe? Sara! Look who’s here.”
“Jade! We were hoping you’d be dropping by soon!” Neat in her pleated beige trousers and floral-printed cotton shirt, Sara hurried over to enfold Jade in a grandmotherly hug. Stepping back, she said, “Don’t you look wonderful!”
Jade grinned, thinking Sara wouldn’t have been able to say that if Jade were still wearing the getup she’d chosen for the Plains Drifter Diner. “You look great too. The summer’s been a good one?”
“Oh, yes. Busy as can be, but that’s a good thing. Adam would drive me nuts otherwise. We were so excited when Ned came in with your flyer. We’ve been telling everyone about your riding program.”
“I know, and thanks so much. I’ve been getting a lot of inquiries. One of my classes is almost filled. I’ve got the Reed boy, Jamie and Jane Donovan, and Mary Cardillo.” All were children of horse enthusiasts and loyal customers at the saddle shop.
Sara beamed. “I’m sure they’ll all be filled very soon. Gosh, it’s good to see you, Jade. I’d forgotten what lovely hair you have.”
She was referring to Jade’s penchant for outrageous dye jobs, which had lasted into college. “I’d almost forgotten what it looked like too,” Jade confessed in a conspiratorial whisper. “But don’t let Margot know I said that.”
Finished with his customer, Adam joined them. “So, Jade, did you buy those ponies Ned was telling us about? Ralph Whittaker has some fine stock.”
“Yeah, we really lucked out. Joe Bromley’s checked them out and given us the green light. Tito and I are picking them up this week.”
“How exciting. Such a big change for Rosewood Farm, having ponies there and offering riding lessons,” Sara said. “I think it’s a great idea.”
Adam nodded in agreement. “It’s a smart expansion plan. Even in these difficult economic times, you’ve got to grow the business.”
“I hope you’re right. You should come by and see the barn Owen built for the ponies. It’s great.”
“We’d be delighted to. We need to make a full report to Brian. He’ll be pleased to hear what you’re doing for the young riders in the area.” Brian Steadman was Adam and Sara’s nephew and an excellent three-day-event rider.
“How are his clinics going?” Brian had begun offering clinics up and down the East Coast.
“He’s having a terrific time. But I think he’s ready to take a break and focus on his own riding,” Sara said.
Jade nodded in understanding. Being a clinic instructor was intense work; one always had to be “on.” Personally, she preferred the tinkering and fine-tuning that came with teaching students over the long haul. She also enjoyed being able to see the results of the hard work the horse and rider put in.
“Knowing you’re back to stay in Warburg might be the thing to make him come home himself.”
Adam’s comment made Jade grateful for the store’s soft lighting. Neither Steadman could see her blush of embarrassment.
Really,
Adam should know better than to play matchmaker. Brian was a great guy and a terrific rider. He didn’t need his uncle lining up dates for him, nor had he ever. Back in high school, the girls had been crazy for him, Jade among them. Luckily, she’d had just enough smarts not to act on her crush. Because the thing about Brian was that he was almost too nice, and back then she’d had a whole lot of dark stuff inside her. Had she and Brian dated, she’d have messed things up between them for sure—that, or Blair Hood would have started gunning for her again.
Blair Hood, who’d targeted Jade as her archenemy in school, had memorized the mean-girl handbook. It was probably the only book Blair bothered to read. Thank God Jade didn’t have to deal with the likes of Blair and her nasty, catty friends anymore.
But even though high school was over and Jade wasn’t nearly as screwed up as she had been following the death of her parents, she sensed that perhaps Brian was still too nice a guy for her. She’d bet her four brand-new ponies that he wasn’t the type to indulge in a wildly steamy hotel hookup with a stranger.
“It would be great to have Brian back in the neighborhood,” she answered politely.
“I’ll be sure to tell him you said so,” Adam said with a wink.
Oh, Lord. “Above all, tell him not to cash his clinic checks, because when he comes back to Warburg he’s going to want to come out to the farm and see the new crop of youngsters Ned and Travis are starting. A couple of them look like they’ll make nice eventing prospects.” Then, before either Steadman could wax eloquent on what a stupendous, good-looking, talented sweetheart of a dude their nephew was—all of which she knew perfectly well—she made a show of whipping the shopping list from the side pocket of her hobo bag. “So, Adam, I’m in the market for some pony tack. I was thinking we’d do saddles first. What have you got in sizes fourteen and fifteen inches? If you have any used saddles in good condition, that would be stupendous.”
The days before school opened were filled from morning to night. Jade would have preferred it, however, if they’d been crammed to bursting. It was how she operated best. Too much downtime and little niggling worries started to creep into her brain. Jade knew she was good with kids. She enjoyed their curiosity, their openness and hunger to learn, their incredible sense of wonder. But what if the kids Ted Guerra had assigned to her class hated her? What if there wasn’t that all-important sense of connection? What if she couldn’t reach in and flick on the switches that lit their minds and made them eager to learn about ecosystems, multiplication tables, the fifty states, and to tackle their first chapter books? What if she was a flop as a teacher? What if, when Sandy Riley returned, she found a class of second-graders who hadn’t learned a thing and hated school? The thought made her sick with dread.
Picking up the ponies at Windy Hill with Tito and Ned helped. As did the fact that everyone—from Owen to Patrick and Ellie Banner—was waiting to greet the four new equine additions when the van rumbled back up Rosewood’s long drive.
“Oh, Jade, this one’s so cute,” Margot said, walking up to stroke Dickens’s velvety gray muzzle after Jade had led him down the ramp. “I adore white ponies.”
“Can you take him for me so I can go grab Sweet Virginia?”
“Sure.” Margot grasped the nylon lead from Jade and walked the gelding into the middle of the courtyard. “What’s his name?”
“That’s Dickens,” Olivia informed her. “And Tito’s bringing down Hopscotch. He’s my favorite.”
“I can see why, Olivia. He’s really nice. A happy, relaxed fellow. Notice how he’s looking around with his ears pricked forward? Not worried at all. You all did some great pony shopping.”
“Yeah, we were the ones who picked them out. Aunt Jade and Ned just watched us,” Max said proudly.
“And take a look at this last one, babe,” Travis said to Margot as Jade brought Sweet Virginia down the ramp.
“Wow. Congrats, sis.” Margot’s voice was solemn. “She’s something.” The four of them—Ned, Tito, Margot, and Jade—paraded the ponies around the courtyard between the four barns with everyone else looking on.
“So, y’all approve?” Jade asked. She knew her own face was split in a grin of happiness, but it was so very fine to see the frank appreciation stamped on Margot and Jordan’s faces.
“They’re adorable, Jade. And we’re so glad they’re here,” Jordan said.
“I’m glad you got ponies worthy of your new barn, Jade,” Owen teased.
“And we get to help ride them for Aunt Jade,” Olivia said.
“Don’t say that too loudly, or Doc and Archer are going to feel like you don’t love them anymore,” Kate said.
Olivia shook her head so vehemently, her pigtails slapped her tanned cheeks. “No, they won’t. They know we love them, and now they have new friends to play with. Ponies are herd animals,” the six-year-old told them, with unshakable authority. One of her birthday presents had been an encyclopedia of ponies. Jordan and Owen had been taking turns reading it to her before bed.
“That’s right, Olivia. So let’s bring these guys into the barn and get them settled in their digs. That’ll give Doc and Archer a chance to catch a first whiff of their new pals.”
“And then can we ride them?” Max asked eagerly.
“You’ve lucked out, Jade. Not everyone has a live-in troupe of riders to exercise their mounts,” Travis said, grinning.
“And I’ve got Georgie, Will, and Neddy waiting in the wings. The lot of them will be semipros by age twelve.”
“Sounds like Jade’s got it all figured out,” Owen said.
“You bet.” Wouldn’t it be nice if that were true of the rest of her life, Jade thought.
The distraction of working with the new ponies at Rosewood and familiarizing herself with their habits and dispositions, along with the hours she spent training the horses Travis and Ned had assigned her, helped Jade stop worrying about what awaited her when the school bell rang come Tuesday morning.
She spent her evenings holed up in her little cottage, trying to prepare for her new job as thoroughly as possible. Lesson plans were drafted, charts constructed, name tags for cubbies and desks copied, the week’s first homework assignment considered. Jade opted for a short questionnaire, so that the students could tell her a bit about themselves and she could see what their spelling and handwriting were like. A few math problems would also ease them back into the habit of adding and subtracting on paper.
Jordan had created a lovely working environment for her. The cottage was cozy but not fussy. The living room was dominated by a large off-white twill sectional (Jade had had to promise not to sit on it with her boots) decorated with green and blue throw pillows. Candlestick floor lamps framed the sofa, and a square coffee table rested before it.
Although there was a second bedroom, which held a large desk for her laptop and printer, Jade often found herself working at the antique benchwright table that served as her dining table. Jordan and Owen had come across it at an estate sale, and Jade found it the perfect length for laying out sheets of poster board when she was making job charts and writing out the rules for the classroom.
At the far end of the table sat the stack of four-by-twelve-inch desk tags she’d made. Next to it were the ones for the kids’ cubbies. Every time she’d written Hayley Cooper’s name, she had to quash the nervous flutters that made her Sharpie pen waver.
She knew she had no reason to be so nervous. Her classroom was taking shape, the space above the chalkboard decorated with the alphabet in both print and cursive, the walls covered with a map of the world, a birthday chart, the job chart she’d made, an oversize calendar, and, as a visual aid for the first unit the class would be studying on ancient civilizations, an array of posters depicting Egyptian pyramids, artifacts, and hieroglyphs. She was doing everything she could to create a learning environment that was both inviting and stimulating.
On the day before school opened, Jade was at the elementary school, putting the finishing touches on the classro
om, fish for her sparkling new aquarium included. She’d placed the aquarium on top of a wide freestanding bookshelf, the perfect height for seven-year-olds to view the fish darting about inside the tank. She spent minutes inserting the aquatic plants and positioning a sunken ship, some different types of coral, and a perforated rock on the graveled bottom. Then, after checking the filter and double-checking the water temperature, she began to introduce the fish.
“Be well, be happy,” she whispered as she carefully transferred six fish into the tank, more nervous about the lives of these vibrantly colored and patterned little fish—who immediately began darting this way and that in the clear water—than she was about her four new ponies.
But she knew horses; tetras, not so much. And though the ponies had been at Rosewood for only a few days, they were adapting just fine. The kids had ridden them in both the outdoor and indoor rings, and Jade herself had taken them out cross-country, through the wooded trails and over the late-summer fields. They’d been as well mannered hacking around Rosewood as they had been when she’d taken them on a test ride at Windy Hill.
Indeed, the ponies had been so good out in the field that she was already thinking that, as Kate and Max would be riding Doc and Archer in the children’s division of the Warburg Hunt Cup, Olivia could enter the hunter trial competition on one of the new ponies—perhaps even ride her fave, Hopscotch. And if Jade convinced Owen to enter the Warburg Cup on Mystique, a seasoned field hunter, it would mean that more of her family than ever before would be riding in the hunt club’s most prestigious event. Wouldn’t that be cool?
She sprinkled some food into the tank, relieved when the fish darted to the surface to feed. They swam, they ate—so far, so good. She wondered what names the students would give them.
A knock on her open door had her spinning around. It was Tricia Creighton, the other second-grade teacher, whose classroom was across the hall.
“Hi. Oh! The room looks really great. You’ve pulled everything together nicely. I love the reading corner.” Tricia nodded her head at the spot across the room where Jade had set up a low circular table for group reading and three bright beanbag chairs for the kids to curl up in with a book.