by Chris Platt
The Sutton boy puffed up his chest and stepped away from the wheelbarrow. “What? You going to beat me up if things aren’t okay?”
“Give it a break, Tommy,” Jacob said.
The boy gave a mean laugh. “Oh, that’s right. You Amish boys don’t like to fight.” He moved a step closer.
When Jacob came forward, Tommy retreated a couple of steps. “It’s not that I won’t fight,” Jacob said. “It’s just that there’s a better way. Don’t confuse the two. And I’m not Amish.”
Tommy stared at him for a few moments. “You sure dress like one.” When Jacob didn’t respond to the comment, Tommy snorted and pushed the wheelbarrow to a stall at the end of the aisle.
“Hey,” Jordan called after him. “Mr. Miller wants everyone out front in ten minutes.”
Tommy didn’t even acknowledge her words. Well, it’s probably better if he doesn’t come anyway. Jordan thought. I’ll never understand that jerk. She returned to her job filling the tank.
After Jacob left, Tommy rolled his wheelbarrow back to the stall next to Jordan. He set the cleaning fork down, then stood there staring at her, his mouth drawn into a hard line. Jordan felt her face flush and she looked away.
“Your watchdog isn’t here now,” Tommy said. “Why don’t you go ahead and finish what you were going to say?”
Jordan thought about ignoring him, then she considered spraying him down with the hose she held in her hand. The thought made her grin.
“What are you smiling about?” Tommy said. “There’s nothing funny here. I’m forced to work for a bunch of throwbacks who still plow their land with horses.”
Jordan cocked her head, confused. “Your dad owns the biggest Percheron farm in the area.”
“So? He also owns a brand new John Deere tractor. That’s what we use to plow our fields—not stupid horses.” Tommy picked up the cleaning fork. “I’ve got better things to do with my time than shoveling manure for these yahoos. Or talking to you.” He marched off down the barn aisle, leaving the wheelbarrow sitting there.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” she yelled at him. Her common sense told her to stop right there. Tommy came from the foremost family in town, and despite being such a jerk, he seemed to be popular. She was the new kid in town. If she made a total enemy of him, he could make her life miserable at school next fall.
Tommy looked back at her with total disdain, like she was the one who had done something wrong. He’d harmed her friends and her horse and it didn’t seem to matter to him. Jordan decided she couldn’t take it anymore.
“You did a really bad thing, Tommy,” Jordan said, looking him right in the eye. “Don’t you get it? People could have been killed in that accident.” She pulled the hose out of the overflowing trough and kinked it. “Your friend is in jail because of what you guys did. I would think you’d be glad that you got off with an easy punishment like cleaning horse stalls.”
Jordan walked past him to turn off the hose. Her hands shook so badly that she had trouble turning the shut-off valve. She stopped just outside the barn door and took three big calming breaths, then went up to the front lawn to wait with the others. Tommy Sutton was a hardheaded fool. She’d rather spend her time with good people.
Daniel’s siblings were all there when she arrived. The two youngest kids ran and played tag, while Daniel’s sister sat primly in a lawn chair. She was older than Jordan, but she spoke to her politely and made her feel welcome.
Mrs. Miller came through the front door with a big tray. Jacob and Daniel ran to help her. Jordan’s mouth watered when she saw all the treats: cookies, sweet bread, watermelon slices, and a big pitcher of lemonade.
Mrs. Miller wore a plain, modest blue dress and a comfortable-looking pair of flat shoes. Her clothing reminded Jordan of photos she’d seen of her grandmother as a kid.
“It looks as if we’re missing someone,” Mrs. Miller said. She set down the tray and poured the lemonade into tall glasses. “Where’s the Sutton boy?”
“Sulking in the barn,” Jacob said through a big mouthful of sweet bread.
Jordan accepted a cold glass of lemonade and thanked Daniel’s mother. “I told him we were meeting here. I guess he didn’t want to come.”
“If he doesn’t want to come, let him stay where he is,” Daniel said, taking a handful of butter cookies.
“Now, boys…” Mrs. Miller gave them a stern look. “It’s not nice to think unkind thoughts.” She glanced toward the barn, like she could see through it to where Tommy was sulking. “Perhaps someone should take him some food. He’s worked hard today. Would you like to make him up a plate, Jordan?”
Not really, Jordan thought, but she nodded and filled one of the small paper plates with a sampling of the treats. She grabbed a napkin and headed for the barn.
“Jordan, wait,” someone called.
When Jordan turned back, she was surprised to see Jacob striding toward her with a tall glass of lemonade in his hand. “What’s up?” she asked.
Jacob handed her the glass and shrugged. “He might be a real pain, but Tommy worked pretty hard today. He’s probably thirsty.” He paused a moment. “Are you okay? Do you want me to go with you?”
Jordan shook her head and Jacob returned to his lawn chair.
She smiled to herself. Jacob seemed to practice what he preached. She wasn’t sure she’d be so forgiving if Tommy had recklessly crashed into their car.
Inside the barn, the temperature was much cooler. Flies buzzed lazily and sparrows chirped in the rafters. Spotting the wheelbarrow at the end of the aisle, Jordan walked in that direction. She stopped outside the stall that Tommy was cleaning.
He paused with his pitchfork in midair. “What do you want?”
With that snarky tone in his voice, what Jordan wanted was to dump his cookies in the wheelbarrow and walk off. But she tried to follow Jacob’s example and pasted a pleasant look on her face. “Mrs. Miller made some really good treats,” she said, holding out the plate, “and she wanted to make sure you had some of them before the rest of the kids polished them off. Jacob poured you a glass of lemonade.”
Tommy leaned the fork against the wall and stepped out into the aisle. “Oh, he did, did he?” He eyed the food suspiciously. “Well, I don’t want it.” He crossed his arms and glared at her.
Jordan sighed. “Tommy…”
“Tommy,” he said, mimicking her in a whiny girl voice.
Jordan’s shoulders slumped. “Why are you so mean?”
Tommy laughed, but it didn’t sound friendly. “Hey, I’m shoveling manure for a bunch of people I don’t like. It’s hot out here, the flies are eating me alive, and you think I should be happy that you brought me a few cookies?”
“I think you don’t see what is plainly in front of your eyes because you’re too busy complaining,” she said. “I think you need to get over yourself! That’s what I think.”
She turned and walked away, so upset that her hands were shaking. She almost dropped the plate of sweets, and her arm felt sticky from the lemonade that had sloshed over the rim of the glass. She should have known better than to even try with a knot-head like Tommy.
seventeen
“Hey, McKenzie, wait up!” Tommy ran down the barn aisle after her. Jordan stopped, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She didn’t want this rotten guy to see her crying. She blinked back the tears and reluctantly turned to face him.
Tommy ran his hands nervously through his hair, then reached out for the plate and the glass of lemonade. He looked everywhere but directly at Jordan. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “Tell Mrs. Miller and Jacob I said thanks.” Without another word, he turned and strode away.
Astonished, Jordan stared at his retreating back. Guys could be so weird. Especially Tommy.
Shaking her head, she headed back to the group and relayed Tommy’s message. Mrs. Miller smiled, but no one else said a word.
“Hey, Jordan, you have to keep up the driving lessons,” Daniel said, breaking the silence. �
��Jacob is going to keep King and Duke here for a few weeks so we can practice log skidding. We’re both going to enter the contest at the fair this year.”
Jordan held back a sigh. These two boys were entering a contest that would take them up against the likes of Gilbert Sutton and some very talented teams. And right now, it was all she could do to keep from running over the cones.
“I’ll be rooting for you guys,” Jordan told him. “Someday, after I get the hang of driving, I’d really like to learn how to skid.”
Daniel grabbed another cookie from the tray. “Your mare was a decent skidding horse. I bet she’ll come around again.”
Mr. Miller joined them and poured the last of the lemonade into a glass. He polished it off in several big gulps. “As soon as Star is walking well enough to be worked lightly, I’ll come get her in the trailer. We can rig some harness to fit her and see if we can get her interested in driving and skidding again.”
Jordan wanted to jump out of her chair and shout “Yes!” She couldn’t even imagine how much fun driving and skidding would be with Star Gazer. “That would be really cool, Mr. Miller.” She forced herself to keep her voice calm. “Thanks for the offer,” she said. “Star is walking better since you guys loaned us the boots, but it’s going to be a while before she’ll be able to do anything like pulling logs.”
Jordan just hoped that she got to keep the mare long enough to be able to put her under harness.
The sound of a car horn alerted Jordan to her mom’s arrival. Mrs. McKenzie stepped from the car and spent a few minutes talking with the Millers and thanking them for all their help. Jordan said her good-byes and got into the car, anxious to get home and check on Star.
As she backed out of the driveway, Jordan’s mother told her about the vet’s visit. “Dr. Smith just finished up with Star Gazer a little while ago,” she told Jordan. “He drained the abscess in her foot and cleaned it out. He said we need to keep those boots on her and keep the abscess clean. If things go well, we should start to see a big improvement soon.” She swept a loose strand of hair off her forehead. “You know, Jordan, these horses are a lot of work.”
Her mother was right about that. Taking care of an animal was a big responsibility and a lot of work. But taking care of an injured, damaged animal was an even bigger responsibility—especially when the animal was as large as Star. But she was happy to do it.
Mrs. McKenzie reached over and turned down the volume on the radio. “Umm, Jordan…”
“What is it, Mom?” Jordan detected a trace of guilt in her mother’s voice.
Mrs. McKenzie kept one hand on the steering wheel. Her other hand fidgeted nervously with the chain around her neck. “We’ve got a guest coming over shortly.”
“A guest?” That got Jordan’s attention. She hoped her mom hadn’t done something crazy like invite Jacob over for dinner.
Mrs. McKenzie cleared her throat and began, “The other day, I put an ad for Star on the bulletin board at work. A lady called today, and she’s coming over to see Star.”
Jordan was stunned. An ad for Star, and a lady was coming over to see her? “See her for what?” Jordan asked, already knowing the answer.
“Jordan…,” her mother sighed. “You know we have to sell Star Gazer. We’ve got to find a good home for her. This woman was interested in Star even though she knew there was a problem with her feet, so that tells me her heart is in the right place.” She glanced at Jordan. “She lives in the next town over. You’ll be able to stop in and see Star when you want.”
Jordan felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. She thought she was going to be sick. “You talk like it’s already a done deal,” she muttered. She felt confused. Betrayed.
When they pulled into their driveway, Jordan saw an old Chevy truck parked next to the house and a woman with a young boy and girl sitting on their steps. They stood and waved as the car came to a stop.
Mrs. McKenzie put the car in park and got out, motioning for Jordan to follow.
“Hello, Mrs. Cannon,” Jordan’s mom said. “This is my daughter, Jordan. She’s the one who has been taking care of Star Gazer. Come to the barn with us and we’ll be happy to show her to you.”
The woman smiled broadly. Jordan attempted to smile back, but it came out as more of a grimace.
“I’m really excited about this,” Mrs. Cannon said as she waved a well-manicured hand in the air. “I wanted a horse as a child, and my parents wouldn’t get me one, so I’d like to give my kids an opportunity I didn’t have. And, my husband thought having a horse in our field would cut down on all the grass mowing—especially a big horse. She’ll eat more.” Mrs. Cannon laughed at her own humor.
Star is going to be used as a lawn mower? Jordan felt her jaw drop and quickly snapped it closed.
As they walked down the hill to the barn, the young girl grabbed Jordan’s hand and skipped beside her. The boy ran alongside them. Jordan’s legs moved stiffly, like she was in a bad dream.
Star was out in her corral behind the barn. When the mare saw Jordan, she raised her head and trumpeted a welcome. It broke Jordan’s heart to think that just as Star was beginning to get attached to her she might have to go live with this woman who cooed and held out her hand while clucking to her. It was clear that Mrs. Cannon had no idea that clucking meant “go” or “go faster,” not “come here.”
Star limped over to the fence and poked her massive muzzle at Jordan, begging for a treat. “I’m sorry, girl,” she said in a voice choked with sadness. “I don’t have anything for you.”
Mrs. Cannon produced a large carrot from her purse and held it out to Star, trying to coax her down to where she stood. Star flared her nostrils, taking in the scent of the treat, but she stayed where she was.
Jordan smiled inwardly and stroked the white star in the center of the mare’s forehead. “What do you want to do with Star if you get her?” Jordan asked, curious as to what she had in mind. Surely she had a better purpose for Star than just being a glorified lawn mower. The lady didn’t look like a horse person. She had long, painted fingernails, a fancy hairdo, and a roly-poly shape. Jordan doubted she’d ever been on the back of a horse.
Mrs. Cannon laughed. “I just want a pasture pet,” she said. “Something we can play with and feed carrots to. Maybe sometimes we could toss the kids up on her back and lead her around a bit.”
Jordan frowned. Star would need someone who could give her extra help, not somebody who knew little or nothing about horses. Jordan didn’t consider herself fully competent, but this woman knew a lot less than she did.
Mrs. McKenzie turned to her daughter and smiled. “That sounds like a nice life, doesn’t it, Jordan? Especially for a horse that’s not very sound.” Her mom searched her face, looking for some sign of approval.
“Mom,” Jordan said, refusing to believe that her mother would make a mistake like this. “Star was a champion pulling mare. Her feet are going to get well again. She should be in front of crowds, showing off her strength and beauty, not tucked away in a pasture and forgotten.” The thought made her really sad. Jordan felt a tear slip down her cheek. Star stuck her nose in Jordan’s hair and let out a gentle wuff, making her feel even worse.
Jordan scratched Star behind the ears. The mare sighed contentedly and blew through her lips, then suddenly flinched and raised her head. “What’s the matter, girl?” The big mare flinched again and sidestepped nervously.
Jordan heard a giggle and looked around. Mrs. Cannon’s little boy had stuck a big stick through the fence and was poking Star with it. “Why you little…” Jordan glared at the boy and walked toward him. He stuck out his tongue at her, then tossed the stick and ran.
“Now, Anthony,” Mrs. Cannon wheedled. When her son ignored her, she turned to Jordan. “You know how it is,” she said with a laugh. “Boys will be boys.”
Jordan found nothing the least bit funny about it. If Star went to live with this family, that little brat would make her life miserable. And Mrs. Cannon s
eemed to see nothing wrong with her child tormenting a horse.
“She’s really beautiful,” Mrs. Cannon said. “Of course I’ll have to talk this over with my husband. And I’ll need a couple of weeks to get our place ready. But I’m very interested in your horse.”
Jordan felt her heart breaking wide open. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She headed back toward the house, not bothering to say a word to anyone. She knew it was rude, but she didn’t care. She went straight to her room, crawled into bed, and pulled the pillow over her head to shut the world out. She couldn’t stop the tears this time.
A while later she heard a soft tap on her door. It was followed by the sound of footsteps coming across the room. She felt the mattress sink as her mom perched on the side of her bed. Jordan sniffed and took the pillow off her head. “Did she buy her?” She barely managed to choke out the words.
Mrs. McKenzie brushed the stray hairs from Jordan’s wet face and handed her a tissue. “Not yet. She’ll call us back when they’ve made up their minds.”
“Star will be miserable there!” Jordan cried and fresh tears began to roll.
Her mother handed her another tissue. “Jordan, there are worse things than living on tall pasture and having someone feed you carrots all day. Star was on the way to the packing house when you bought her.”
“That little boy will torture Star, Mom,” Jordan said. “Didn’t you see him poke her with that stick? She won’t like living with them. Please don’t sell Star to those people.”
Mrs. McKenzie frowned. “Look, Jordan. Right now, they’re the only buyers we’ve got. If you can find someone better, I’d be happy to see her go to a home that you approve of.”
Jordan thought for a moment. If there was no way she could keep Star for herself, then she’d at least like to see her in a home with people who knew about horses and could take good care of her—a home where people would let her do what she was bred to do.
She sniffed, willing herself not to start crying again. “Mom, we can’t let Star go to the Cannons’ house. If you’ll give me a little more time, I’ll work with Star and get her pulling again. I’m sure Mr. Miller and the boys will help me.”