by Chris Platt
The bay was nibbling on some hay when she got there. His ears flicked back and forth at the sound of her unloading the medical supplies. Jordan could tell by the way Bob shifted his weight from leg to leg that he was in pain.
Her mother brought a few more medical supplies she’d found. “I called a veterinarian, just in case.” She set down some old Ace bandages—leftovers from her workout days—and pulled her shoulder-length brown hair back in a rubber band. “His name is Dr. Smith. He’d already heard about the accident—news travels fast around here. He said it was a miracle Fisher’s old horse had walked away from it.”
“That’s for sure,” Jordan agreed.
“The vet was very nice,” her mom said. “He volunteered to examine Bob for free and said he’ll get here as soon as he’s able. In the meantime, we’re supposed to start treating Bob’s wounds.”
Jordan picked up the wash bucket and squeezed in a little Betadine and some soap. “I should have gotten warm water while I was in the house.” She frowned at her lack of planning.
“That’s okay.” Her mother grabbed the bucket and carried it to the hose. “It’s been pretty warm today. The water that’s been sitting there in the hose has been heating under the sun all afternoon.”
Jordan grinned. “You mean we’ve got solar power now?”
Her mother laughed. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. This will give us at least half a bucket of warm water to work with. Now, let’s get busy. I’ll call the hospital later and let Mr. Fisher know we have his horse.”
They started on Bob’s face, washing the cuts and scrapes, then moved down his neck to his withers, back, and sides. Jordan noticed that patches of hair were missing from his hide where he’d been knocked to the pavement when the truck hit the rear of the carriage.
The horse flinched in pain every time they hit one of those spots. Jordan tried to be as tender as possible. Her heart ached for the poor animal, and her anger rose toward the two arrogant boys who had caused this damage. She hoped they had to go to jail—or at least got grounded for life!
She thought about Mr. Fisher and Jacob and hoped that they were doing well in the hospital. She wondered if Jacob would come with the elderly man to pick up his horse.
“You’ve been standing there holding that sponge for a long time,” her mother said. “Where is your mind wandering?”
Jordan didn’t want to meet her mom’s eyes. “Nowhere,” she said and quickly bent to wash the old horse’s legs. Her mother gave her an odd grin, but Jordan ignored it and focused her attention on the horse and away from silly daydreams.
“What do you think will happen to the two boys who caused the accident?” Jordan asked.
“I don’t know,” her mother said. “But it was lucky that no one was killed.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand how they can let a horse and buggy go right down the same road with vehicles. It seems so dangerous for the buggies,” she said. “But one of the ladies at work said the court determined that their buggies have a right to be on the road, too, as long as they have signals on them.”
Jordan scrunched up her lips, thinking. Life here was so different. She’d seen horses pulling carriages in other towns. But they were for tourists to use in designated areas, and they moved very slowly. They weren’t going down the same road as cars that were driving fifty miles per hour.
They finished caring for the horse, and Jordan’s mom turned to toss the dirty water under a nearby elderberry bush. “I guess we should get started on that stall so Bob has a place to stay. I’d rather not leave him tied to the post all night.”
Jordan ran up to the house to find a couple of hammers and some nails. This was going to be quite an experiment. Between her mother’s carefully manicured fingernails and Jordan’s total lack of carpentry skills, they were in for an interesting time.
But two hours later they had created a stall that seemed pretty solid—strong enough to hold old Bob, at least. They scattered some of the straw they’d found in the loft of the barn, tossed a flake of fresher-looking hay into the corner, and then turned the old bay loose in the stall. Jordan went in search of something to use as a water bucket for Bob while her mom watched the horse munch his hay. By the time she returned, Bob was lying in the deep bedding, almost asleep.
“He’s had quite a day,” Mrs. McKenzie said.
Jordan nodded. She rested her chin on the top of the stall door and sighed. “Even though he’s not ours, it feels good to have an animal here on the farm. It seems…right.”
Her mom thought for a moment. “Yeah. There were always lots of animals around when I was a kid,” she said. “They’re a lot of work. Maybe one of these days we can talk about getting a dog or something. But, you’re right, it does feel good to have old Bob here.”
Surprised at her mom’s answer, Jordan quickly pounced on the opportunity. “Maybe we could get some farm animals?” When she saw her mother about to disagree, she quickly added. “We could start with something small, like a goat, or some chickens. They wouldn’t cost much to feed. You know that livestock auction we pass on the way out of town? Maybe we could look there someday?”
Her mother picked up the hammers and the box of nails. “Don’t push your luck, Jordan. For now let’s just worry about getting Bob fixed up and back to his owner. I’m heading to the house to start dinner.”
Jordan watched her mom walk from the barn. She sighed. How was she ever going to talk her mother into letting her have a horse when she couldn’t even convince her to buy a couple of stupid chickens?
three
Jordan got up early the next day to take care of Bob. His wounds were looking better already. As she changed the old horse’s bandages, she wondered how Mr. Fisher and Jacob were doing. Maybe her mother would call the hospital later and get the news. She finished dressing Bob’s wounds and gave him breakfast, then made her way back to the house. She wanted to get started on her other chores right away. It was already muggy, and their house didn’t have air-conditioning.
Pushing open her bedroom door, Jordan stared at the clutter. An assortment of boxes and crates stood stacked against her bedroom wall. They’d been there for the past two weeks and she couldn’t bring herself to unpack them.
At thirteen, Jordan was starting a brand new life—for the second time. The first change had come two years ago when her father had left—just up and walked away like he was stepping out of an old pair of shoes. And now, here was major life-change number two, life in a small town after growing up in a humongous city.
She leaned on the paint-chipped windowsill and looked out her window. The old farmhouse where they now lived had once belonged to her grandmother. Without this place, they wouldn’t have had anywhere to go when their money ran out in L.A.
They hadn’t seen her grandmother very often in recent years, but Jordan remembered visiting here a couple of times when she was very young. Her crayon drawing of a horse still showed through the thin coat of paint on the closet wall. She smiled to herself. Even back then, she had known that she wanted a horse.
Mary McKenzie entered the room, heels clicking smartly on the old wooden floor. “Honey, those boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves,” she said, searching through her battered purse for her car keys. “I’ve got to run to the hardware store for some screws to put up that big shelf in the living room. How about getting some of them unloaded before I get back?”
Jordan said goodbye to her mom and reached for the closest box. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she lifted out some books and a small reading lamp and placed them on the floor beside her.
A soft knock sounded on the door. Her mother must have forgotten something. “It’s open,” Jordan said, pulling some horse statues from the box.
“Hi!” A cheerful voice called from the doorway. A tall, dark-haired girl stepped into the room.
Jordan’s head jerked up in surprise.
“I’m Nicole Wilson. I live right down the road,” the girl said with a nervous smile. “Your f
ront door was open. I hope it’s okay? I guess I’m kinda like the welcoming committee or something.” She held out a plate of chocolate chip cookies.
“Uh, hi,” Jordan stammered as she got to her feet and dusted her hands on her jeans. “I’m Jordan.” She moved forward awkwardly—were they supposed to shake hands, nod heads or what? How did they do things in these small towns? Somehow a big hug just didn’t seem appropriate in a situation like this.
Jordan smiled and reached out to accept the plate of cookies. “Mmmm, my favorite,” she said, lifting the plastic wrap. She offered one to the other girl before taking one for herself.
Nicole took a nibble of her cookie. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here right when you guys moved in, but my mom had me on restriction because my final grades were pretty bad.” She brushed cookie crumbs from her shirt. “But I spent the past two weeks in a special tutoring session the school offered, so now I’m free for the summer.”
Bad grades were something Jordan had never had to deal with. They’d called her bookworm and teacher’s pet at her old school because she studied a lot and got decent grades. It had been another thing that set her apart from the others. Maybe she wouldn’t let this potential new friend know about that part just yet.
“Want some help?” Nicole offered, pointing to the boxes.
Jordan took another cookie before setting the plate on the nightstand. “Thanks for offering, but that’s okay.” This girl seemed nice enough, but it would feel odd having someone she didn’t know digging through her private possessions. Besides, she didn’t want to scare off a new friend by boring her to death with unpacking.
The sound of a horse whinny echoed from the front yard, and Jordan paused with her cookie mid-bite. She hoped Bob hadn’t gotten loose from his stall.
Nicole laughed. “That’s my horse, Dakota,” she said. “I tied him to your tree. I hope you don’t mind?”
First Bob, and now another horse? How lucky can I be? she thought. “Can I see him?” Jordan asked. Before Nicole had a chance to answer, Jordan was already making her way to the front door.
She sucked in her breath when she saw the little black horse tied to their apple tree. “He’s beautiful!” she exclaimed as she hurried down the front steps, Nicole at her heels.
“Dakota’s a Morgan gelding,” Nicole said proudly. “He’s eight years old and a lot of fun to trail ride. Sometimes I show him in the summer and fall. There’s a big riding stable down the road, and a bunch of girls that go to my school board their horses there.” Nicole paused and weighed her words. “They’re kind of snobby and have really fancy horses, but they can be a lot of fun. Did you have a horse where you came from?”
Jordan slowed her steps when she approached the gelding. She knew better than to run up on horses and startle them. “No, I came from Los Angeles,” she said. “There wasn’t any room for a horse at our place and it cost too much to board one there. The only pet I’ve ever had is a goldfish named Petey.”
Jordan reached out to pet Dakota. His sleek coat was so soft. She closed her eyes and inhaled his warm horse scent while she stroked his neck. “I took some riding lessons while we lived there, but I didn’t get to go very often. There’s nothing I want more than to have my own horse. This looks like perfect horse country. I’m hoping I can talk my mom into it soon.”
“Yeah, you need to get a horse so you can go riding with all of us,” Nicole said. “Do you want to ride Dakota around the yard right now? He’s very gentle.”
Jordan glanced down the road. She badly wanted to ride the little black gelding. But she had chores to do, and she needed to stay on her mom’s good side if she was going to talk her into a horse. “I’d love to,” Jordan said. “But my mom will be home soon and I’m supposed to get those boxes unpacked.” She smiled apologetically. “Maybe sometime soon?”
Nicole nodded. “Sure, that would be great.” She glanced around the property. “You’ve got plenty of room here. If you fix a few fences, it’ll be perfect for a horse.”
Jordan smiled. “That would be awesome.” She gave Dakota a good scratch on the neck, chuckling at the way his lips moved as if he were begging for more.
Nicole untied Dakota and mounted up. “I’m glad you moved into the neighborhood. Maybe I can come over again soon? You can tell me all about Los Angeles and your family and I’ll fill you in on our small-town gossip.” She grinned and turned her horse toward the road.
Jordan watched her go, wishing she had taken Nicole up on her offer to ride Dakota. Maybe if Bob got better before they came to pick him up, she could ride him? She hurried back into the house. She wanted to come up with a good plan to convince her mom they needed a horse. But first, she had to get all those boxes unpacked.
“Here they are, Mom.” Jordan pulled a small box of one-inch screws off the shelf at the combination hardware/ furniture/ ice cream store. The screws her mother had purchased earlier in the day were too short, so they had brought them back to exchange.
Jordan looked around the small-town store. North Adams wasn’t big enough to support certain businesses on its own, so folks took to combining their space to accommodate the locals and make a living. The small market where her mother had gotten a job also ran a real-estate office out of its back room. It was a big change from the clothing company she’d worked for in L.A., but it was a job.
She followed her mother to the counter and waited for her to pay for their merchandise.
“Thank you,” Mrs. McKenzie said to the shop owner. She handed the bag to Jordan and shouldered open the door while she dug her keys from her purse. “Let’s go home and get dinner started.”
Jordan settled into the car and fastened her seatbelt. “Pizza?” she asked, remembering the frozen pepperoni pizza she’d seen in the freezer.
Her mother pulled from the parking lot onto the main road. “Ah, yes, pizza…the number one food of all growing teenagers.”
“Yup.” Jordan laughed as she rolled down her window. The open window worked just as well as the air-conditioning in their old car. Her mother called it their “two-forty air-conditioning”—you roll down two windows and drive forty miles per hour. Jordan smiled as she let her hand play on the breeze. Southern Michigan seemed hotter and muggier than Los Angeles. Maybe because of all the local lakes and greenery around here.
She turned to her mother. “So, this girl came over today while you were gone.”
“Oh? Who?” Her mother rolled down her window, too.
“Her name is Nicole, and she lives down the road from us,” Jordan said. “She has a horse.”
“Uh-huh,” her mother mused, lifting her brows.
“She’s going to come back and visit again,” Jordan said, trying to figure a way to bring up the subject of getting her own horse. Maybe she should tell her mom having a horse would help her make some new friends. But no, it would probably be better just to come out and ask. Her mother had always told her that if she wanted something, she needed to stand up and state her case. But she really hated hearing the word “no.” And besides, that rule only went for standing up to other people, not her mom.
“I assume Nicole is going to bring her horse over?” Jordan’s mom asked.
Here was her chance. Jordan took a deep breath and plunged right in. “Mom, we’re in the perfect place now to have a horse. I’ve got almost a thousand dollars saved.”
“I know, honey,” her mother reached over and patted her knee. “But even if you used your savings to buy a horse, how would we pay for the hay and the upkeep? Your father didn’t leave us with much when he left, and as you know, the move wasn’t cheap.”
When they pulled into their driveway, Jordan was pleased to see Nicole waiting on their front porch. The girl smiled and waved as they got out of their car.
“Hi, I’m Nicole.” She stepped forward and shook Mrs. McKenzie’s hand. “My mom said to give you this since Jordan and I ate so many of the cookies I brought over earlier.” She handed her a homemade coffee cake. “It’s my mot
her’s specialty.”
Mrs. McKenzie accepted the gift with a smile. “Why, thank you, Nicole. That’s very kind. Please tell your mother I appreciate it.” She motioned for Nicole to follow them inside.
Nicole took a seat at their kitchen table. “I just heard you guys helped out the people in that wreck yesterday. I bet that was something.”
Jordan was surprised. She didn’t think many people in town knew them. “How’d you hear it was us?”
Nicole grinned. “Welcome to the small-town grapevine. Our internet connections might not be very fast, but word-of-mouth travels very quickly around here.”
Jordan had already heard about the local grapevine, but she didn’t realize just how fast it worked. In Los Angeles, you were lucky if you knew the name of someone the next block over after living there six months. Here, it seemed everyone in the town knew everybody else’s business right away. She wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. She pulled out the chair next to Nicole and sat down. “Who were the boys that caused the accident?” Not that Jordan would know them, but she was curious.
Nicole pulled her hair up off her neck and fanned herself. “The younger one was Tommy Sutton. His family owns that big Percheron farm on the edge of town. His dad is a VIP here in town. He won’t let anything happen to his son. The other kid is from two towns over. I don’t know him, but I hear he’s sitting in jail right now.”
“Good,” Mrs. McKenzie said as she placed a glass of ice water in front of Nicole and poured some for herself and Jordan. “I should call the hospital and see how poor Mr. Fisher and Jacob are doing.”
Jordan blushed a little at the mention of Jacob’s name. Nicole gave her a questioning glance and Jordan quickly looked away.
“Jacob has always gone to public school,” Nicole said, studying Jordan’s face for a reaction. “Some of the Mennonite families in this area homeschool, but Jacob and a few others go to North Adams schools.”