by C. S. Adler
"Are you trying to turn into a statue, Dove?" Jan asked. She went to the barn for the knotted rope that he loved to play with and wagged it under his nose. Dove sniffed it, but he didn't grab an end of it for an impromptu game of tug-of-war.
"Don't you even want to chew a knot loose?" Jan asked him. Dove used to love to untie knots. He had to be hurting bad if he didn't want to play. To comfort him, she scratched under his chin and smiled at how funny he looked when he wrinkled his muzzle lifting his head for her to reach under it.
"So," she said, "looks like I'm going to buy you some x-rays instead of a new saddle blanket. Well, we can make do with your raggedy old blanket. I'll just fold it so the holes don't bother your back. Luckily, you and I aren't fussy about what we wear, are we?"
He sighed for answer. She combed his mane back with her fingers and told him how handsome he was.
When she finally went in search of her mother, Jan didn't find her in the barn or working in the rings. Most likely, Mom had taken their prime boarder out for a trail ride, Jan told herself. That horse didn't get much attention from his owners, but at least they could afford to pay Mom to exercise and groom him. If all Mom's owners were as rich as the prime boarder's, the ranch would be making a profit. But most people could barely afford the boarding costs, plus the incidentals of shoeing and vet fees. According to Mom, people usually underestimated the expense of horse ownership and didn't realize that buying the horse was the least of it.
Horses were neighing and stomping, impatient to be fed. Jan went to the shed where the bales of alfalfa hay were stacked higher than her head. She swung herself up to the top rank by the rope hanging from a roof beam. From there she rolled a bale down, heaved it into a wheelbarrow, and set off with a pitchfork to shake a flake of hay into each of the hungry horses' feeders. As usual, the Appaloosa grabbed for the hay and dropped most of it before Jan could get it into his feeder. "Piggy," she told him. "Now you'll have to eat it from the ground."
By the time she'd distributed the hay flakes, Mom had the prime boarder back from the trail ride she had indeed taken. She was already busy currying and brushing the big black animal. "Thanks for helping, Jan," Mom said. "I got a little behind today."
"That's okay. Did the vet say when she's going to do the x-rays?"
"She'll come soon. Meanwhile, I'm going to start finishing off the shed."
"When?"
"After we eat."
"In the dark?"
"I can run a power cord out from the barn and rig up a light."
It occurred to Jan that except for Sundays, when her mother did nothing more than feed and water the boarders, she had no time for a major project like turning the shed into a closed room.
"I want to help you, Mom," Jan said. She said it firmly because Mom preferred doing jobs by herself. Her claim was she got them done faster that way. "Dad taught me how to hammer a nail in straight, you know."
Her mother gave one of her half smiles. "If you want, you could start clearing tack out of the barn. We can't put a horse in that room until every hook and nail he could hurt himself on is gone."
"Did you find another boarder?"
"Could be. We'll see." Mom wrinkled her forehead and said, "I wonder if Dr. Foster would let me pay her in installments." Thinking out loud, she added, "I hate to ask her, though. She hasn't been charging us as much as she should lately as is."
By "lately" Mom meant since Dad died. "Dr. Foster's nice," Jan said. "You're right. We should pay her up front."
"Okay. Tomorrow we'll go to the bank and take out your money."
And if the x-rays showed that Dove needed further treatment? Expensive treatment? No doubt Mom would bring up the leasing idea again. Just thinking about it made Jan shiver. So don't think, she told herself. Dad would say worrying was useless because nothing worked out the way you expected it to. Mom was the worrier in the family, the one who spotted black clouds in every blue sky. No wonder she had permanent frown lines on her forehead.
"I'm afraid it's another soup-and-sandwich night," Mom said. "I didn't have time to get to the grocery store, and we're out of most everything."
"Fine with me," Jan said. So long as something filled her stomach, she wasn't fussy. That was probably why, for all the long length of her, she didn't weigh a hundred and thirty pounds. "Slim," her father had called her affectionately. "If you weren't tall like me, you'd make a good jockey." But she was tall with long legs and an angular face that wasn't quite pretty. She would rather have been small and cute like Mattie.
***
At school Friday morning, Brittany invited Jan to a Halloween party at her house. "You've been in classes with most of the kids who're coming. And Lisa, the new girl, says she lives near you, so she can give you a ride if your mom can't bring you."
"Really? You asked someone to give me a ride, Brittany?" Jan was touched. She hadn't known Brittany liked her well enough to do that much for her.
"Yeah. So will you come?"
Sure.
Now that Jan knew her lunch partner's name, she used it when greeting her in the hall. "Lisa? Brittany says you live near me. But we don't ride the same school bus, do we?"
It turned out that Lisa lived in a development of patio homes halfway between the ranch and the school but still several miles from the ranch. Nevertheless, Lisa assured Jan that her mother would be glad to pick her up and take her back after the party.
Jan rode the school bus home wondering if she'd be expected to wear a costume. No doubt, since it was a Halloween party. Well, she could always go in cowgirl getup. It felt good that Brittany had invited her and that Lisa was still being friendly. Could she invite them to the ranch to repay them? Brittany wasn't that interested in horses, but Lisa had owned a horse. Except Jan couldn't offer to let them ride because Dove wasn't well, and Mom couldn't allow the boarders' horses to be ridden without their owners' permission.
Probably neither girl would be interested in coming to the ranch, anyway. And what could Jan feed them? When Mom did remember to stock their refrigerator, all she bought was processed cheese, bread, and fruit. Of course, she could ask Mom to get cookies and soda for a change. Their budget wasn't so tight they couldn't afford a bag of cookies. And if both Brittany and Lisa came, they could talk to each other so that Jan wouldn't get stuck making conversation. But the casita was awfully small. Jan tried to imagine entertaining two girls in a living room just big enough for two chairs, an end table, and a TV. Well, she'd see. Maybe she'd invite them. If she felt brave enough.
Mom was lungeing a horse in the arena when Jan got home. It was the gray big-headed animal that had started chewing up its stall in the barn. Mom had warned his owner that the horse was getting bored from lack of exercise, but the owner had a million excuses for not getting to the ranch to attend to his animal.
"He paying you for that?" Jan asked her mother, the "he" being the owner.
"No, but I couldn't let this old fool demolish any more of his gate. You should have seen how happy he was to get out. He just lay down and rolled in the dirt soon as he got in the ring."
"Mom, I'm invited to a Halloween party."
"Oh? You going?"
"I'd like to."
"Well, good."
Mom didn't ask any further questions. She never had been one for the kind of safety quiz other mothers put their children through when they wanted to go somewhere. "What kind of mother are you, anyway?" Jan teased her. "Don't you want to know who's giving it and where it is and stuff like that?"
"Do I need to? I expect you know to behave yourself," Mom said. She gave Jan a quick glance, then turned back to lungeing the gray horse. "Dr. Foster stopped by. Said it was convenient to take the x-rays today because she had work to do out this way."
Jan tensed and grabbed the pipe railing for support. "She took them already? Did she find anything?"
Mom nodded. "Looks like Dove needs an operation."
Jan caught her breath. "A serious one?"
"Well, Dr. Foste
r said it'll be serious if he doesn't get one."
"What's he got?"
"A thing called constriction of the palmar annular ligament. It's kind of like carpal tunnel syndrome in people. Only it's in his right front leg."
"And is that kind of operation—Will it cost a fortune?"
Instead of answering, Mom said, "I guess we could leave this fellow out here in the arena to exercise himself for a while." She headed for their casita and Jan followed.
"Mom, how much?" Jan asked her mother's back.
"I called the bank and made an appointment about getting a loan," Mom said.
"You'd do that for Dove?"
"No. For you," Mom said.
Jan couldn't believe it. "But you hate owing money! And how will we pay it back? Oh, Mom, no! You're figuring we can lease Dove to pay off the loan, aren't you? But I can't. I just can't do that."
"Well, we'll see," her mother said calmly. "After the shed's done, maybe I could get a job nights."
"You can't work two jobs." The very idea of it was unfair. Jan sat down next to her mother on the bench on their ramada and leaned toward her. "You already get so tired you fall asleep in front of the TV after supper," she said.
"I used to waitress before I met your father," Mom said. "There's good money in that. Would you mind being out here alone nights?"
"I'd mind you working two jobs." Jan got tears in her eyes. "I mean, I appreciate that you're willing. I didn't think you—I mean, you didn't want Dad to get me a horse. And I guess you were right that we couldn't afford Dove. But now he's part of the family and—" Tears slid down Jan's cheeks. "I don't know what to say. I feel so bad, Mom." She was overwhelmed by guilt that her mother should have to do all the sacrificing to save a horse she'd never wanted in the first place.
"If Dove doesn't get the operation, Dr. Foster says he'll get worse," Mom said. "We'd have to have him put down, Jan."
Jan caught her breath. "No," she said. "Oh, no! But there must be another way to get the money."
"I haven't thought of any."
"What about Grandma?"
Mom snorted. "Last time I asked her for a loan was when your father died. She said then she had to think of her old age and that I'd best get rid of the ranch and find sensible work."
"So you sold our house."
"Right, and that's about all we can sell if I want to stay employed." Mom chewed her lip. "Listen, I can quit waitressing once we pay off the bills. It's not like I'm going to have to work two jobs forever."
"I wish I was old enough to get a job," Jan said fiercely.
"Well, you're not, so don't even think about it. If you still want to cash in your savings account, we'd better go to the bank."
"I'm ready," Jan said, "And when we're back, I'll feed and water the horses for you."
Mom reached out and touched her arm. "You're a good girl," she said. "I worried some that your father spoiled you, but I guess he didn't."
"Oh, Mom!" Jan threw her arms around her mother and burst out with all her pent-up grieving. "I miss him so much, and I know you do, too."
Hastily, Mom shook Jan off and stood up. "We'd better go now," she said. "I'll get the keys to the pickup."
Jan trembled as she worked at getting herself under control before her mother came back out of the casita. She should have known better than to get emotional about Dad. Mom could only deal with her grief by burying it. That was how she was. But, at least, Jan now knew that her mother's remoteness didn't mean she didn't love her.
Jan dragged the hose from stall to stall to refill water drums for the horses. She changed Dove's water last. Then she leaned her head against his neck, feeling it pulse as he drank. He splattered her with drops when he shook his head after he'd finished.
"You've got to have an operation, Dove," she told him. For once she was glad he didn't have human understanding. It was better for him not to know what was going to happen to him, but she wished she could talk to someone about the operation, someone who could understand how scary it was. Mattie! She loved horses. Was it too late to visit her? They'd be eating dinner soon in the main house.
Jan ran across the dirt road and through the field, slowing only as she approached the back door. She could see through the dining room windows, which didn't need shades to keep out the sun because they faced the mountains to the north. The tables were set for dinner, but nobody was seated yet. Timidly, Jan knocked at the door. She hoped it would be Mattie who answered, but it was the manager.
"Well, hi," Stella said. "Did you come to see Mattie?"
"I was hoping to, yes."
"She's not feeling too well. One of her bad days. She's lying down, but I'll tell her you're here."
"No, no. I don't want to bother her if she's sick." Jan hesitated. "She's not very sick, is she? I mean, she looks so healthy."
"Most of the time. But she has her spells, as she calls them. She was injured in a car accident five or six years ago, and she gets headaches and forgets things." Stella smiled at Jan and confided, "If you could come by next Friday, that'd be so nice. Next Friday's her birthday."
"It is?" Jan said in surprise. "Okay, I'll try." She began backing away. Next Friday evening was Brittany's party, but there would probably be time before it to see Mattie.
"I'll let her know you were here," Stella said. "She talks about you a lot, calls you her 'young friend.' She's real tickled that you pay attention to her."
"Well, I like her," Jan said.
"Oh, Mattie's a cutie. They don't come any sweeter. Next Friday's Halloween, you know. Don't forget to come," Stella said again.
Jan couldn't fall asleep that night. Her mind was a rock tumbler polishing worries about how Dove's operation would go and how Mom was going to work two jobs when she was already tired from one. And Mattie was having a birthday! It would be fun to give her something—flowers, maybe, or candy. How hard was it to make fudge? That would work as a birthday gift. Jan could even save some of it to offer Brittany and Lisa—if she ever got up the nerve to invite them over. But that would have to wait because she was going to be very busy. Dove would need lots of attention when he had his operation and while he was recovering. And Mom deserved any help Jan could give her around the ranch.
Finally, Jan couldn't lie still another minute. She tiptoed out of the bedroom so as not to wake her mother, who was snoring as usual. Above the refrigerator was an old, yellowed cookbook. The Joy of Cooking. Jan looked up fudge and decided it was doable. She wrote "baking chocolate" on the shopping list Mom kept on the refrigerator door.
If she was going to be awake all night, Jan thought she might as well go check out the stars. She turned her back on the city lights and looked up toward the mountains etched dark against a slate sky. Was Dad out there somewhere amongst all those shiny stars? Did he know about their problem with Dove? If he knew and couldn't help them, he'd feel bad. Probably being dead meant he couldn't feel anything anymore. At least, the minister had said that death brought eternal rest. And that was good. Because right now Dad would be feeling really bad for his family.
An owl hooted somewhere. Jan blinked and shivered in the chill of the desert night. The temperature had dropped thirty degrees since the sun went down. Her warm bed began to seem appealing. This time, when Jan put her head down on the pillow, sleep snatched her right away.
CHAPTER SIX
Saturdays were always busy days for Mom. Owners who worked all week arrived to ride their horses, complain, ask for favors, and give excuses for not paying their horse's boarding fee that month. The parking area was crisscrossed with cars and pickups, and the center aisle in the barn was jammed with people grooming their horses. Jan finished her usual chores and then worked steadily at stripping the tack room. What time she had left she spent with Dove.
Sunday, Mom worked on enclosing the shed, and Jan helped her measure and cut and nail boards in place.
Between school, homework, and helping her mother with chores, as well as taking care of Dove, Jan stayed very bu
sy all week. On Thursday night, she made her fudge, stirring and testing, stirring and testing, until a drip from the end of a fork formed a soft ball in a glass of cold water. When the candy cooled enough to cut, she tasted a corner piece that had crumbled at the edge. Lo and behold, it was good!
Feeling triumphant, Jan packed the fudge in plastic wrap in a small pink-and-white box that had once held stationery her grandmother had sent her. She pasted a square of white paper over the label on the box, and wrote, "Happy birthday, Mattie. Your friend, Jan." The remainder of the candy went into the freezer for any possible future entertaining.
Her plan was to scoot over and deliver the candy after school Friday before getting ready for Brittany's party. She was supposed to wear a costume, and early in the week Mom had offered her a matador outfit.
"I didn't know you'd saved it," Jan had said when Mom surprised her by pulling the elegant black braided jacket and tight knee pants out of a box under the bed.
Mom had shrugged. "Didn't your father tell you how I tried my hand at bullfighting?"
"But he made it sound like—" Jan didn't want to say "a joke," but Dad had made her laugh when he told the story.
"Like I wasn't serious about it?" Mom asked. "Well, I was. It was my big dream. When your father met me, I was practicing on the bulls on his father's ranch."
"Then why did you give up so easily?"
Mom shrugged. "Nothing easy about it, Jan. A bull hung me up on his horns my first time in the ring. Your father sat by my bedside, persuading me to marry him while he fed me my meals. He kept saying I was better with horses than with fighting bulls. Considering all the bones I'd broken, I decided he had a point."
The matador pants barely covered Jan's knees, but she had a pair of white tights that spanned the gap between foot and knee, and she liked the way she looked in the short-waisted, broad-shouldered jacket. She tied her hair back and said, "I look just like a boy."
"No way. You've got girl written all over your face." The way Mom said that was as near as she had ever gotten to telling Jan she was pretty.