Emma and the Cutting Horse

by Martha Deeringer

  “It’s still a long shot,” she said self-consciously as she sat down next to Hannah. “She has to beat lots more good horses before she wins any money.”

  As Emma feared, it didn’t take Candi long to get the message.

  “Hey, Cowgirl,” she said as she passed Emma in the hall later. “I hear you’re ridin’ your ole cowpony in the horse show.”

  Emma stopped and turned to face her. Candi’s face was plastered with makeup, which didn’t completely cover the dark circles under her eyes. Emma flashed back for a moment to the red sock and the little girl lying on the riverbank. Darla did look a little like Candi, but without the hardness in her eyes. The two girls who were walking with Candi looked uncomfortable.

  “You heard wrong,” Emma said. “My parents’ horse is at the NCHA Futurity. Her trainer is riding her.”

  “Well, aren’t you special,” Candi snapped sarcastically as she stalked off down the hall.

  One of Candi’s followers caught Emma’s eye and stopped. She glanced after Candi and waited to be sure she was out of earshot.

  “I’m sorry, Emma,” she said, looking embarrassed. “She’s upset because her dad’s trial starts tomorrow.”

  The girl turned and walked slowly away down the hall, not making any effort to catch up with Candi. Emma felt lighter. She wasn’t so afraid of Candi’s power anymore. And was that a tiny twinge of pity for the strange, bitter girl Candi had become? Maybe not. It seemed only fair that she was getting a taste of the kind of misery she so enjoyed bringing down on others.

  * * *

  John called that evening to let them know that Miss Dellfene wouldn’t be working again until Friday, so Emma and Kyle had to suffer through another day of school. The day crept by as Emma checked with each teacher for missing assignments. Her dad had warned her that all the distraction of the futurity couldn’t be allowed to interfere with what was most important, keeping her grades up.

  Candi was absent. Her empty desk in the back corner of the history classroom reminded Emma that this was probably not a pleasant day for the Haynes family. For the hundredth time she wondered what kind of abuse Candi had suffered and she thought of Darla again. Some of the kids were saying that both of them had been abused. Thinking about a father who would do something like that to his own children was almost too terrifying to consider.

  When the school day finally came to an end, Emma got off the bus to find Kyle cleaning water tubs and forking fresh hay into the pens for the horses. She hurried down to help him and to give Ditto an extra helping of attention.

  “You wouldn’t believe what is happening to that grouchy little mare that kicked at you!” she said softly into his big fuzzy ear.

  “I still don’t believe it myself,” Kyle added from just outside the pen, “and I saw it with my own two baby blues!”

  Emma couldn’t help smiling at him. Kyle had learned a lot about horses in a short time. He was the only one of her friends who really understood how excited she was about this whole, crazy experience. She knew her bubble might burst the very next time Miss Dellfene stepped into the arena, but right now she couldn’t stop floating just a little above the ground.

  “Ready for tomorrow, Lulabelle?” Kyle asked.

  “It feels like it will never get here,” she replied.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The second go-round was almost an instant replay of the first. Miss Dellfene worked her calves with restrained enthusiasm and at the end of her performance the scoreboard flashed a score of 216. It was well above most of the scores they had seen that day, and Emma fought the urge to chatter with exuberance.

  “Don’t start doing somersaults, yet,” her dad advised. “Only forty-six horses will go on to the semi-finals tomorrow.”

  John found them in their usual seats an hour later. He was loaded down with bags of peanuts, which he passed out to everyone.

  “Do you think she scored high enough to get into the semi-finals?” Emma’s mom asked.

  “Yer damn right she did!” John answered. “That’s when the going will get tough, though. She still hasn’t put on her best show, and if our luck holds out and we don’t get some bad cattle or something, I think she’ll sail right on into the finals.”

  When the last horse in the second go-round had finished, Miss Dellfene had made the semi-finals in third position.

  * * *

  “Tonight we’re going to stay in Ft. Worth,” Emma’s father announced after the scores had been posted, “even though the semi-finals don’t start until later in the day tomorrow. We’ll get hotel rooms and go out to eat somewhere. I’m really tired of hot dogs and nachos. We can take John with us.”

  They had to travel several miles to find a decent hotel that wasn’t already full. Emma’s dad rented two adjoining rooms and they carried in the suitcases that had been in the trunk of the car all week. The hotel was next door to a steak house where they met John for dinner.

  “Are you nervous when you’re riding her?” Emma asked John.

  He hesitated before answering.

  “I worry a little about the cattle until she starts working, and then I forget everything else but staying in the middle of her. Do you want me to sit in your seat in the stands and let you ride her?” he asked with a grin.

  “No way!” Emma said. “I get so nervous I’m afraid I’ll fall out of my chair, and it’s not even dodging around in front of a calf.”

  Emma didn’t sleep much in the strange bed. Her dreams were populated with cheering crowds and championship belt buckles, but in the dream she sat astride Miss Dellfene herself and accepted the winner’s check with steady hands.

  During the presentation of the awards, she heard her mom saying, “Come on, Emma. We don’t want to spend the day in this hotel room.”

  “Aw, Mom,” she complained as she turned over in bed. “I was just accepting the winner’s trophy in my dream!”

  “Well stow it in your suitcase and get dressed. We want to get there before noon. Your dad’s gone next door to wake Kyle.”

  At the coliseum, the crowd was noticeably bigger than it had been earlier in the week. They found their usual seats still empty, but the Futurity Sale was taking place in the arena where the horses had been working yesterday.

  “Are you going to buy another cutting horse?” Emma asked her father.

  “Not in this lifetime, but I would like to watch some of the horses sell. A few of them are horses we’ve watched in the Futurity this week, but I think most of them are two year olds who are prospects for next year’s Futurity. I just want to see how much money they bring.”

  “I’d like to go down to the main entrance and buy a tee shirt,” Emma said. “I saw one that I liked yesterday. Do you want me to get drinks or anything?”

  “No thanks, but take Kyle with you. I’d rather you weren’t wandering around in this monstrous, old building alone.”

  Kyle got up from his seat.

  “Come on, Evelyn!” he said. “I’ll be your official watchdog.”

  Emma and Kyle walked slowly through the building looking at posters advertising coming events. The vendors weren’t getting much business while the sale was going on, so Emma got her tee shirt without waiting in line, and then bought a box of popcorn and two Cokes. She handed one to Kyle. Outside the glass doors of the entrance they could see a row of eighteen-wheelers loaded with cattle turning into the coliseum’s drive.

  “Most of the time, none of this seems real,” Emma said around a mouthful of popcorn. “I keep thinking that I’m going to wake up in my own bed and find that it was all just a dream.”

  “If it’s a dream, it’s a sweet dream,” Kyle replied. “Did you ever think about how one sort of insignificant thing you do can set events like this in motion? I remember when that flyer came in the mail about the dispersal sale where your dad bought Miss Dellfene. He had it in the seat of his truck with the rest of the mail one day when I was helping him fix that washed-out section of fence. He showed it to me and said he’
d like to go, but he didn’t think he would have the time and he was sure he wouldn’t have the money. If he had thrown that flyer away, none of this would have happened.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Emma said. “I’ve never seen him do anything on the spur of the moment like he did the day he bought Miss Dellfene. I’m glad he did, though. I sure wouldn’t have wanted to miss all this.”

  “Neither would I! The only other times my parents have let me miss school were when I had the flu or a dentist appointment.”

  Emma laughed. “This has been a lot more fun than either one of those!”

  “Is your heart going to be broken if she doesn’t win?” Kyle asked, his blue eyes serious.

  “No,” she answered, considering. “I know that winning is a long shot. I might be a little disappointed, though. My parents could sure use a quarter of a million bucks.”

  * * *

  Pacing around the hotel room, Emma and her parents waited impatiently through the long afternoon for the semi-finals to start. They had decided to come back to the hotel and rest for a while, but none of them seemed able to relax. Kyle flipped through the channels on the TV and finally settled on a football game.

  “How can you watch football at a time like this?” Emma asked. “I can’t even sit down, let alone concentrate on a football game.”

  “You’re wearing out enough carpet for both of us,” Kyle said

  Emma’s parents picked out clothes they were going to wear to the semi-finals and tried not to bump into each other.

  “We all need to chill out!” Emma’s mom announced. “Even if she doesn’t get into the finals tonight, she’s already proved that she’s a top-notch cutting horse, and we’ve had a terrific time watching her in the process. I’ll bet she’d bring quite a bit of money if we sold her this afternoon. It’s not like we have invested a fortune. Let’s just try to relax and enjoy the show.”

  “Nice sentiments,” her dad said, “but I’ll bet your hands will get just as clammy as mine tonight.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m just trying to be the voice of reason.”

  The idea of resting had lost its appeal, so they drove back to the coliseum in the middle of the afternoon and wandered through the barns looking at the horses in the stalls. Miss Dellfene was standing hipshot in the corner of her stall with her head down and her eyes closed.

  “She must be tired after all this excitement,” Emma said. “I wonder if John is as nervous today as we are?”

  As the afternoon progressed, the number of people walking through the barns increased.

  “Let’s go stake out some good seats,” Emma’s dad suggested. “With this crowd, we’re likely to have to sit behind a pole or in the nosebleed seats if we wait too long.”

  When they sat down, they saw John standing in the arena talking to a man in a black cowboy hat.

  “Where have I seen that man before?” Emma’s dad mused.

  “I think that’s the attorney who owned Miss Dellfene before we bought her,” her mom said. “Didn’t he tell you that he was coming to the Futurity to watch her?”

  “I thought he looked familiar,” Kyle said. “I think I’ve seen him on television.”

  “You probably have. He’s a pretty high profile kind of guy.”

  The stands rapidly filled with people, and Emma’s dad moved around restlessly in his seat and finally got up.

  “I’m going down to watch John get her ready,” he announced, glancing at Emma’s mom. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “Can you save our seats?” she asked Emma.

  “Sure we can. Go ahead,” Emma said.

  They put their jackets in the empty seats and Kyle pulled out his ever-present catalog.

  “I wonder where we get the list of the forty-six horses that made it and what order they’re working in?”

  A woman in the row behind them leaned over and said, “Someone is handing them out at the bottom of the steps.”

  “Thanks,” Kyle said, getting up and starting for the steps. “I’ll be right back,” he called to Emma over his shoulder.

  Finally the judges climbed into their booths, and a herd of calves trotted into the arena from the far end. Several men on horseback pushed them down the arena wall.

  “She’s number thirty-eight,” Kyle said as he squeezed in beside Emma and sat back down. “I don’t know if being near the end is good or bad, though.”

  He handed her the list and she glanced at the familiar names.

  “Lots of them are owned by the big ranches,” Emma observed.

  “The horses don’t know who owns them, and being owned by a big ranch doesn’t make them any better at what they do,” Kyle said.

  Emma pondered this for a minute.

  “I’m glad you came with us, Kyle,” she said. “It’s harder to worry when you’re here.”

  “I aim to please!” he said, grinning.

  Emma’s parents returned. They had talked to the attorney who had raised Miss Dellfene.

  “He thanked us for helping the mare realize her potential,” her father told Emma and Kyle. “We just smiled and acted like we knew she had it in her all along. We didn’t say a word about Gary and John telling us she had the talent to make a good cutting horse. I guess I should be ashamed of myself for not giving them the credit they deserve.”

  “But you did see something special in her right from the beginning,” Emma said. “When everyone else thought she was hard-headed and hopeless, you still believed she moved like a gazelle.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart, you’ve made me feel better.” her father replied, patting Emma fondly on the back. “Anyway, he is pleased with the mare’s success. If she continues to do well, it will be good advertising for his stallion. Many of the colts the stallion has produced are winning in other areas, but none of them has ever made it to the NCHA Futurity.”

  Miss Dellfene trotted into the arena with the fourth group of horses to work. From the moment she appeared at the far end, she seemed wired and anxious to get at the cattle. John loped some figure eights to warm her up and then began walking her in big circles near the back wall. She didn’t want to take her eyes off the calves and, as the other horses worked, he stopped her facing the action and let her watch.

  When her turn finally came and John nodded to the judges and walked her down the middle of the arena, Emma got a grip on the arms of her seat. She had grown accustomed to the slow herd work, and, as usual, John took his time and chose a calf carefully. When he drove a Hereford heifer out into the center of the arena and dropped the reins, Miss Dellfene crouched and then sprang into action. She danced joyfully back and forth across the arena, handling the calf with graceful expertise. Her white splint boots flashed as she leapt in tandem with the galloping calf. When she had blocked the heifer’s return to the herd over and over again, the heifer slowed to a trot and finally stopped in confusion. Then the little mare began to tap dance, patting her front feet on the ground before the heifer as if she were challenging it to try to dodge past her.

  “Yeah,” came cries of approval from the crowd. “Look at that!”

  The heifer turned its tail toward Miss Dellfene and ran, and John reached down to touch her neck, and turned her back to the herd.

  The next calf, a red steer, was faster and more determined to get back to the others, but Miss Dellfene managed his runs expertly. She seemed to draw energy from his faster movements and twisted her body in a U as she turned in front of him. Now the crowd was really making noise and when her front feet began the dance steps again, the cries reached a crescendo. Emma couldn’t tear her eyes away from the flying mare to look at the crowd, but she could hear the woman behind her yelling, “Yeah! Yeah!” She turned to her husband and said, “That little mare may be the best horse here!”

  The buzzer sounded. John let her work the steer to a standstill before he touched her neck and turned her away. People in the stands were clapping and shouting at John, but he pulled his hat brim over his usual pok
er face and rode quietly at a walk to the far end of the arena.

  Kyle put his hand on Emma’s arm and pointed to the scoreboard. It showed an incredible 221½. The numbers blurred as Emma’s eyes filled with tears.

  “I guess her crooked knees haven’t hurt her any!” Kyle quipped.

  Emma laughed with a mixture of joy and relief.

  “I can’t believe this is happening to us. We’re nobodies, and our horse has beaten most of the best three-year-old cutting horses in the world.”

  “You’re not nobodies,” Kyle said.

  When the semi-finals ended, Miss Dellfene had qualified for the finals in second place.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Futurity finals were scheduled for the following evening and, to avoid interminable waiting, they drove home early the next morning to check on the livestock and give Emma’s dad a chance to change into clothes that were more appropriate for the photographic session that would be a part of the final ceremonies. All fifteen horses in the finals were considered winners and would earn money; the competition was to determine their ranking in the top fifteen. The money would be awarded in ever increasing increments from the fifteenth horse to the first.

  Turning into the driveway, Emma’s dad stopped the car and got out to pick up the mail and the newspaper. He tossed them on the front seat, but not before Emma spotted the word CONVICTED in large, block letters in the newspaper headline. She leaned over the seat, slipped the rubber band off the paper and spread it out. “Local Car Dealer Convicted” it said above a picture of Mr. Haynes coming out of the courthouse with his lawyer. An unexpected wave of sadness swept over her.

  “Look, Mom,” she said, turning the paper around so she could see.

  “That’s terrible,” her mom said, “but at least he’ll be put someplace where he won’t be able to damage anyone else. I wonder what will happen to Candi and Darla?”