“Anyone can fall off a horse,” said Carole politely. “I’ve done it myself lots—”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Jessie said, with a hint of her usual sharpness. “Carole, if all I had done last night was fall off Kismet, I wouldn’t be sorry. But I fell off because I had ridden my horse onto ice and rocks at night—I fell off because I made my horse take me somewhere that was dangerous for both me and her. I did something foolish and reckless—and what’s worse, I endangered you and Louise too.
“You have to believe me when I say that it never occurred to me that Louise would try to follow me, or that you would either. I definitely did not mean to involve the two of you. But I’m old enough now that I should have known better—and I’m very, very sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Carole said. “I never thought you meant to hurt anyone.”
“If I recall, you said that you didn’t think I was thinking at all,” Jessie said with a grin. She shifted her heavy cast so that the weight of it rested on her knee.
“Oh, that …” Carole blushed, recalling their argument at the party. “I should never have said what I said.”
“No, no, you were at least correct,” Jessie said. “If I recall, I was a whole lot ruder to you, and with less reason. I tend to fly off the handle about some things, and I’m sorry about that too. And if I implied that you were a Southern softie—well, that was a total lie. You’re a very capable person, Carole, and it’s lucky for me that you are. You’re an excellent horsewoman too.” Aunt Jessie laughed. “Anyone tells you different, send ’em to me and I’ll lick ’em for you. I promise. After last night, I owe you one.”
“I’m just glad you aren’t badly hurt,” Carole said. Remembering how terrified she had been last night, she couldn’t feel that a broken arm was much to worry about.
Aunt Jessie seemed to agree. “This is nothing,” she said, gesturing to her cast. “It’s even on my left arm, so I can still take pictures. I’ve got bruises you wouldn’t believe, but on the whole I’m remarkably sound. Not even frostbitten. How about you?”
“Tired,” Carole said. “Just tired, and … glad it’s over, I guess.”
“Me too,” Jessie said. “But Carole, tell me one thing. I seem to remember hearing some horrible knock-knock joke in the middle of the storm last night. Was that you?”
“No, that was Stevie,” Carole said, with a straight face and an inward laugh. Aunt Jessie looked puzzled, but Carole didn’t explain. She didn’t mind if Jessie thought she had some mystery about her too. “But Aunt Jessie,” she continued, “I first went looking for you last night because I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry I went snooping into your life where I didn’t belong. I didn’t mean to hurt you—I didn’t know that I would. I’m just learning to respect that people have to do things their own way.”
Jessie leaned against the back of the sofa. “Your way is a good way too,” she said. “I admire you for having the strength to remember what you’ve lost. Maybe someday I’ll be able to think the way you do.”
A sudden tear came to Jessie’s eye. “Oh, Carole, I miss your momma so much,” she whispered. “You remind me so much of her—she was my big sister, and I always looked up to her. I know she’d be proud of what a lovely and courageous young woman you’ve become.” She reached out to hug Carole, and Carole felt herself held tight against Jessie’s chest. It was a good feeling. “I have so many stories to tell you about your mother,” Jessie said.
Carole sat up and wiped her eyes where a few quick tears had started to form. “I’d like that,” she said. “I’d really like that. Anytime you want to talk, I want to listen.”
Jessie smiled, and this time Carole could see in her smile a combination of the brash, sometimes rude aunt she had first met and the thoughtful, solemn one who had just come home from the hospital. Different sides of the same person, she thought to herself. She hadn’t realized how wonderfully complex people—and life—could be.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” Jessie promised. “I’ll start today, and I’ll call you down in Virginia whenever I think of something good. But right now, Niece, I need a nap. They don’t let you sleep much in the emergency room.” With another smile, she got up and walked stiffly down the hall.
Carole found her father, Aunt Lily, and Louise in the kitchen talking to Uncle John. Aunt Lily had started to fry a pan of sausages and potatoes for Uncle John, and when she saw Carole she added more food to the pan. Carole was content to eat breakfast and listen to them talk. She felt too content—and too tired—to speak.
Louise got up from the table. “Um … Carole? I was going to go to the photo lab—I got a camera for Christmas and Jessie’s teaching me to develop my own pictures. There’s some work I wanted to do. Do you want to come? I could tell you all about it,” she said. She gave Carole a tentative, but very real, smile.
Carole appreciated the offer. “I would,” she said, “but I really wanted to go check on the horses. Spice was wonderful last night, and I’d like to thank him.”
Louise understood. “I’ve already been out to feed them,” she said, “but I know Spice would enjoy the attention. You’re right—he deserves it!”
Carole waded through the hip-high snow to the barn, following the trail Louise had broken. Inside, the horses’ breath made the air warm and humid and sunlight shone through the barred windows. The air smelled like horse. Carole breathed in deeply and happily. “Hello, everyone,” she said. “Hello, Spice.” She opened his stall and offered him a sugar lump. Her pockets were bulging with carrots and apples.
Spice perked his ears and lipped the sugar from her palm. Carole gave him a big hug, then settled herself on the huge pile of hay in the corner of his stall. “We need to talk,” she said. Spice nodded his head—probably to ask for more sugar, but Carole chose to think he was agreeing with her. She gave him a carrot.
“Exactly. Because you were super last night. And I have to apologize,” she said. “I didn’t think that you were as good a horse as the Morgan or the Arabian. I was wrong.” She gave him an apple, which he ate in dainty bites, his huge nose nestled in her hand. “Bloodlines can tell you some things about horses—I don’t think you’re as fast as Secretariat, no matter what—but they can’t tell you about a horse’s heart. Your heart, Spice, is pure champion Thoroughbred.”
Spice looked at her calmly. He seemed to be waiting for her to continue. She gave him another carrot. Suddenly she remembered the birthday party Stevie and Lisa had planned for Prancer. New Year’s Day was the Thoroughbreds’ birthday, and this was New Year’s Day!
“You’ve got a Thoroughbred’s heart,” she repeated. She gave Spice another apple, and while he ate it she sang “Happy Birthday” to him. It seemed appropriate.
After that she gave treats to the other three horses and sang “Happy Birthday” to them too. After all, Jiminy and Kismet had shared the ordeal, too, and each had done well. Carole knew better than to blame Kismet for slipping on the ice, or for being frightened when Jessie fell And Sugar, she was sure, would have been just as willing to go out as Spice was. “I love you all,” Carole assured them.
Back in the house Jessie had moved to the living room sofa with an afghan and a pillow. Louise was sitting on the sofa’s end, showing Jessie the pictures she’d just finished developing. Carole knelt beside them to look. To her surprise, some of the pictures were of her—taken unawares as she hugged Uncle John in the airport and drove the snowmobile with Christina behind her.
“Some of these are very good,” Aunt Jessie said approvingly. “I bet Carole would like to see more. Why don’t you get some of the stuff from my files, Louise?” Louise ran to get them. “Would you like that?” Aunt Jessie demanded of Carole.
“Definitely,” she answered. “I want to see all the interesting, confusing angles.” Aunt Jessie grinned.
They were deeply engrossed in photographs when Colonel Hanson came in. “I don’t want to bother you,” he said. “I enjoy seeing the three of you together
like this, and you look like you’re having fun. But Carole, if you want Aunt Lily and me to wash any of your clothes before we go back, give them to me now. We’ll have to pack tonight—we leave for home pretty early tomorrow.”
Carole nodded, but a sudden thought made her pause.
“What is it?” her father asked.
“Just for a minute,” she said, “this felt like it was home.”
“HEY, STARLIGHT, DID you miss me?” Carole held up her hand. Starlight lowered his head and blew into it gently. To Carole, it seemed as if he were saying yes. It was early in the morning, the day after they’d flown back to Pine Hollow. Her dad had dropped her off at the stable on his way to work. She couldn’t wait to see Starlight again. “I sure missed you,” she told him.
“So did we,” said Lisa, coming around the corner with Stevie close behind. “Miss you, I mean, not Starlight. We couldn’t have missed him—we took good care of him for you.”
“The best,” Stevie confirmed. They hugged Carole, and she hugged them back.
“You’re here early,” Carole told them.
“We wanted to see you. We knew you’d get here early,” Lisa said. “How was your trip?”
“I’m glad I went, and I had a great time, but it’s good to be home,” Carole said. “Tell me everything—what happened while I was gone?”
“Saddle Club meeting?” suggested Lisa.
“Of course!” They sat down on some hay bales in the aisle and Stevie passed around the last of her Christmas candy. There wasn’t much—her brothers had gotten into it—but it was better than nothing.
“Not much happened with us,” said Stevie, crunching a candy cane. “Except, of course, Karenna came to visit. I don’t know about her, Carole. We liked her well enough, but we kept expecting her to be more like you. She was into malls, and makeup, and Meg and Betsy—all things that you’re not into, and that we’re not into. I never felt like we had much in common.”
“We tried hard to be friends with her,” Lisa said, “and I think she wanted to be our friend, but it never seemed to happen.” Lisa shook her head and took another bite of peanut brittle.
“I understand,” Carole assured them. She picked through the small bag of candy and found a piece of pink ribbon candy. “I’m glad you were here to make her feel welcome even if she wasn’t exactly your cup of tea. I know what you mean about the mall and stuff, but I’m just kind of used to her. We were good friends when we lived on the same base—there wasn’t much to do there except ride.
“And just as you were there for me with Karenna, you were also there for me at Lover’s Point,” she said. Stevie and Lisa leaned forward, interested.
“Lover’s Point?” asked Stevie. “Sounds like a romance novel. What did it look like? Maybe we should name someplace around here—”
“Tell us what happened,” Lisa said.
Carole told them the whole story of Aunt Jessie’s accident and rescue. “I tried to think of what the two of you would do,” she said. She explained how she had used Stevie’s joke to get Jessie’s attention, and Lisa’s logic to free her from the rocks.
“What joke did you tell her?” Stevie wanted to know.
“The banana knock-knock joke,” Carole said. “You know, the one that goes on and on. It was the only knock-knock joke I could think of, and I wanted her to have to talk to me.”
“Oh, you should have told her the other long one,” Stevie said, with a disappointed shake of her head. “It’s much better.”
“The other one? I don’t remember it.”
“How could you not remember it?” asked Stevie. “It’s only the greatest knock-knock joke of all time. Knock, knock,” she said severely.
“Who’s there?” Lisa and Carole asked obediently.
“Will you remember me tomorrow?”
“Will you remember me tomorrow who?”
Stevie frowned. “No, you’re supposed to answer the question,” she said. “Try it again. Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?” they asked in chorus.
“Will you remember me in the morning?”
“Yes,” they said.
“Knock, knock,” repeated Stevie.
“Who’s there?”
“I thought you said you’d remember me,” Stevie said, rolling with laughter. Carole and Lisa giggled and groaned.
“How was the family-tree project?” asked Lisa. “Did you find any great and famous ancestors that you’re destined to take after?” She leaned forward, her chin in her hand. She was partially joking, but she thought it would be nice if Carole did come from someone famous. Lisa’s mother was interested in ancestry.
Carole shook her head. “No. I learned a lot of history, though, and a lot of good stories I don’t want to forget.”
“What was your family like?” Lisa asked. “My mom’s always talking about our heritage and traditions, but she means I have to have good manners and act ladylike.” Lisa grimaced. “She never tells me anything about people.”
Carole thought about Jessie and Jackson, Grand Alice and her almost-forgotten sister Sophie. She thought about all the pictures that she’d seen. How could she explain it all to her two best friends?
“My family is just like most other families,” she said at last. “Mostly full of people who tried to do what was right, only some of them did a better job than others. People are people, no matter what.” She struggled for a way to make Stevie and Lisa understand. “I learned that who you’re related to or descended from doesn’t change who you are. The only thing that matters in your life is what you do and how you do it.”
She pulled the wooden amulet out from where she’d tucked it into the top of her sweater. She wouldn’t wear it every day, but she’d worn it today to show Lisa and Stevie. “My great-grandmother gave this to me,” she said, stroking the little animal softly with her fingertip. “Her—I don’t know, great-great, lots of greats—her ancestor wore it when she came to this country on a slave ship. It came from Africa.”
“Wow!” Stevie and Lisa leaned close. “And she kept it safe,” Stevie marveled. “It hardly even looks old.”
“It must give you shivers to wear it,” Lisa said, looking at Carole closely.
“It does,” Carole admitted. “I feel so close to that woman, even though I’ll never know anything about her except that she was a slave and that she gave this to her daughter. Her life must have been harder than anything I can imagine, but she saved this and passed it on to her family. It makes me feel like I can do anything with my life. It reminds me that anything’s possible.”
“It reminds you of how much you love horses,” Stevie added softly. Carole nodded and tucked the amulet safely away.
“I’ll let you look at it again later,” she promised. “I’ve got a lot to show you. Grand Alice gave me one of her oil paintings—a really pretty one of Lover’s Point in the summertime—and Jessie and Louise gave me a whole bunch of photographs. There’s one of a row of icicles, and there’s a whole bunch of pictures of the family, even some of me and my mom when I was a baby. And Louise gave me the picture of me and Christina on the snowmobile—”
“Wait a minute,” Stevie cut in. “You rode a snowmobile?”
“I drove a snowmobile,” Carole corrected her. “It was fun, but I’ll take Starlight any day. He’s easier to steer, and he never runs out of gas.” They laughed. “That reminds me. I brought a bunch of treats for him, to make up for being gone so long.”
“He deserves them too,” Lisa said. “He never got his share of the birthday party, remember, Stevie? Because Karenna was riding him on the trails. We meant to give it to him later, but we forgot.”
Carole was quick to ask what birthday party. Wasn’t Prancer’s party just for Thoroughbreds? “Starlight’s not a Thoroughbred,” she said.
“Oh, we decided that it wasn’t fair to ignore the other horses,” said Lisa. “We gave them all treats. Luckily, Stevie’d brought enough carrots to feed all of Pine Hollow. We sang ‘Happy Birth
day’ to them all too.”
“You sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to every horse?” Carole asked.
“We couldn’t think of a better plan,” Stevie said apologetically. “My mind’s been so preoccupied lately.” She glanced significantly in the direction of No-Name’s stall.
“But that’s exactly what I did!” Carole told them how she’d sung to all four of the Foleys’ horses on New Year’s Day.
“Weird,” said Stevie, shaking her head. “I mean, weird. The same idea, over one-thousand miles apart—”
“Not weird,” Lisa corrected her firmly. “After all, we’re all best friends and we all think alike. What could be more natural? Now, let’s go give Starlight his share.”
They sang to Starlight and petted him, but he seemed to like the apples better than their singing. “Ungrateful horse,” Stevie said. “Now, my mare, on the other hand, loves to hear me sing—”
“Stevie’s horse is perfect,” Lisa said, teasing her.
“Yes,” agreed Carole, “but does she have a name?” Stevie groaned and shook her head. They went down the aisle to visit No-Name.
“Still No-Name,” Stevie said sadly. “I haven’t had any brilliant ideas. I think the cold must be affecting my brain.”
“If you think this is cold …” said Carole, remembering her night at Lover’s Point. “Trust me, Stevie, you haven’t been to Minnesota!”
Stevie played with No-Name’s forelock and pretended not to hear. “I have progressed to the point of abandoning a completely Arabian name,” she said. “Lisa was right. She’s half American—half southern American at that. I don’t want to ignore either side of her.” She looked at Lisa mischievously. “Do you remember suggesting Scarlett O’Hara and Robert E. Lee?”
“Sure,” said Lisa.
“Well, I’ve been thinking maybe a combination name would work. How about Muhammad O’Lee?”
Lisa leaned against the stall, shaking her head with laughter. Carole reached into her coat pocket and handed Stevie a pen.
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