Playing for Keeps

by Suzanne Weyn

  Taylor drifted off to sleep, still dressed. She awoke in the darkness. There was a blanket over her, and her books were neatly stacked on her night table. The red LED light of her alarm clock showed 3:20 a.m.

  Taylor suddenly sat up in bed. She remembered the thing she’d been trying to recall. She’d completely forgotten to go over to Travis’s house.

  Why didn’t you call me to find out why I wasn’t there?” Taylor asked Travis the next day on the bus.

  “Why should I?” Travis asked sulkily.

  “I might have been thrown from a horse and sent to the hospital. You didn’t know.”

  They were turning into PV Middle School too soon. Taylor didn’t want the bus ride to end until Travis at least said that he understood and wasn’t angry with her. He’d kept his head buried in his X-Men graphic novel since she’d sat down in the seat next to his. “Don’t be mad,” she coaxed. “I didn’t know I’d meet Shafir, and I got so excited about the idea of her going to Wildwood Stables that I forgot about everything else.”

  “I’m not mad,” Travis said, not looking at her.

  “You’re acting mad,” Taylor pointed out.

  “I’m not. George Santos came over. We did Wii Sports and he stayed for supper. I sort of forgot you were even coming over. That’s why I never called.”

  “You forgot?” Taylor asked. A wave of relief swept over her. Her offense didn’t seem as great if Travis had forgotten she was even supposed to come by. But that sense of being let off the hook was quickly overtaken by a different, unpleasant feeling.

  “Did you have fun with George?” she asked cautiously.

  “Yeah, it was great.”

  “Does he play Wii Bowling as well as I do?”

  “Better. I can always beat you. I can’t beat him.”

  “You can’t always beat me.”

  “Can, too.”

  Travis turned the page of his graphic novel while Taylor sat scowling at him. “You are, too, mad,” she insisted a few minutes later.

  “I’m not mad. I forgot all about you.”

  A lump formed in Taylor’s throat, but she used willpower to force it down. “I said I was sorry.”

  “Whatever,” Travis said as the bus pulled in front of the school building. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Today is one of my afternoons to be at Wildwood Stables,” Taylor said. “Why don’t you bring your tools down? There’s a stall door that needs to have its lock fixed.”

  Travis stood waiting for the departing students to leave and the aisle to clear. “George and I made plans to go to the skate park this afternoon,” he said.

  “But you’re in charge of buildings and stuff at Wildwood,” Taylor reminded him.

  Travis just shrugged as he moved into the aisle.

  “You’re mad,” Taylor said quietly with grim assurance, following Travis out of the bus.

  * * *

  Taylor came alongside Mr. Romano, her social studies teacher, as they were both about to enter her last period classroom that afternoon. “Hey, Taylor. How’s my favorite place coming along?” he asked.

  Taylor had told Mr. Romano how she needed to find a home for Pixie and Prince Albert. He’d been the one who first mentioned the old Wildwood Stables to her. After her father also brought it up, Taylor had decided to go looking for it.

  “Soon you’ll be able to take your daughter there to ride,” Taylor told Mr. Romano.

  “She’s only three.”

  “I’ll take her for a pony ride on Pixie.”

  “That would be great. I can’t wait to see the old place again,” Mr. Romano said, smiling fondly. “Wildwood was such a big part of my childhood.”

  “Are you talking about Wildwood Stables?” asked Plum, coming alongside them.

  “Yes, do you know it?” Mr. Romano answered Plum.

  “I totally know it. I’m going to lease a horse that’s there,” Plum replied brightly. Turning to Taylor, she flashed a tight, nasty smile of victory and went quickly back to Mr. Romano. “He’s a little difficult, but I know how to whip him into shape.”

  Taylor felt so enraged that her breath caught in her throat.

  Mr. Romano caught sight of Taylor’s wide-eyed fury. “We’d better get into class,” he said, guiding Plum in ahead of him so that he was between them.

  “She’s not getting him,” Taylor hissed into Mr. Romano’s back.

  * * *

  Taylor rode her bike to Wildwood Stables that afternoon. When she got there, she leaned it against the old maple with gnarled, aboveground roots that stood beside the first horse corral, and she watched as Daphne opened the back of a horse trailer. A man in jeans and a blue sweater who looked like he could be Daphne’s father helped her set up a ramp at the back end.

  In a few minutes, Daphne disappeared into the trailer and came out again leading Mandy, with the lunge line attached to Mandy’s halter. The gray barb wore a yellow horse rug with red-and-green stripes. Her ankles were wrapped in blue horse boots, and the top of her tail, called the dock, was covered in a blue horse bandage. Taylor knew these things were just for protection while traveling.

  When Mandy had stepped fully out of the trailer she hesitated on the ramp.

  Mercedes came out of the main building and hurried over to the trailer. Taylor joined them, too. “Why is she stopping? Is she scared?” Taylor asked.

  “I don’t think she’s really scared,” Daphne replied. “She’s just looking around, trying to figure out where she is.”

  “Give her a minute,” Mercedes advised. “She’ll come when she’s ready.”

  Taylor nodded in agreement. Even bossy Mercedes was patient enough to let Mandy find her way in her own time. Taylor could just picture Plum dragging Mandy with the lead line or pulling on a chain shank.

  Mandy lifted her head and sniffed the air. Her head turned toward Prince Albert and Pixie grazing in the field. The mare’s ears swiveled toward them with keen interest. Daphne stroked Mandy’s neck. “There are some friends for you,” she said.

  “I guess it’s like being the new kid in a new school,” Mercedes surmised. “Way scary! I should know.”

  Most of the kids in Pheasant Valley had been together since kindergarten. They’d known each other forever. They were even familiar with the students in the older and younger grades whom they didn’t know as well. So, the fact that she was new in town made Mercedes an oddity. Taylor had asked her why her family had moved — she didn’t think of it as an overly personal question — but Mercedes had never wanted to talk about it.

  Mr. Chang looked at his watch. “I have to get this trailer back to the rental place and get to work,” he remarked.

  Taylor reached into her pocket for the cellophane bag of baby carrots she’d grabbed from the refrigerator on her way out. “I could lure her down with these,” she suggested.

  “That will do the trick. She loves them,” Daphne said, “but be careful of your fingers. She loves them a little too much.”

  Taylor took out a carrot and approached the ramp. Staying at the bottom, she placed the orange morsel in her flattened palm and extended it to Mandy. The nervous mare caught the scent and stepped toward Taylor. “You know me,” Taylor reminded her in a friendly tone. “We played in the field yesterday.”

  Mandy stepped down until she was close enough to snap up the small carrot with her tongue. Taylor stepped back, wiped her wet hand on her jeans, and then presented another carrot. This brought Mandy all the way off the ramp. “Good girl,” she praised Mandy, petting her mane.

  Mr. Chang hurriedly pulled the ramp away from the trailer and locked up. “See you tonight,” he told Daphne, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I left your tack box inside.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Dad,” Daphne said, waving as he drove the trailer away.

  “She’s a great-looking horse,” Mercedes commented.

  “Thanks,” Daphne said. “I’m going to saddle her up and take her to the field to let her meet Pixie and Prince Albert.”

/>   Daphne led Mandy into the stable. “Want to walk up and meet them?” Taylor asked Mercedes.

  “Okay.” They headed toward the field behind a rectangular paddock. The place seemed quiet today because no one was hammering or sawing. When Taylor mentioned this, Mercedes sighed. “I don’t think the workers are coming back. Mrs. L. is out of money.”

  “All her money?” Taylor questioned. If she had no money left, how would she pay for Shafir?

  Mercedes shrugged. “I don’t know. I just heard her arguing with the carpenter, who wanted to be paid today.”

  As soon as Mercedes and Taylor entered the field, Prince Albert and Pixie headed for them. “They smell those carrots,” Mercedes said.

  “From all the way over there?”

  Mercedes nodded. “They have an unbelievable sense of smell.”

  “If there’s food around, Prince Albert will find it,” Taylor said with a laugh.

  When Prince Albert and Pixie were near, Taylor took the carrots from her pocket and handed them to Mercedes. “Why don’t you try feeding Prince Albert?” she suggested.

  “Me?” Mercedes questioned. “He only likes you.”

  Taylor shifted from side to side. “Yeah, but he also loves to eat. He might not be able to resist if you offer him carrots. He likes them as much as he likes apples — which is a lot. If he takes food from you, maybe he’ll let you ride him after a while.”

  “And you’d be okay with that?”

  The question hit a sore point, but Taylor nodded. “He has to let other people ride him.”

  Prince Albert took the carrot from Mercedes without any hesitation. Taylor petted and praised him while Mercedes gave some of the carrots to Pixie.

  “So far so good,” Mercedes said, “but I wonder if he’d be as comfortable with me if you weren’t here. I’m going to feed him some more while you back away.”

  With a nod of agreement, Taylor stopped stroking Prince Albert. When Mercedes offered him the carrot, he gobbled it eagerly. Taylor began to drift toward the back of the field. She had put about three yards between herself and Prince Albert when he noticed the space between them. With a longing glance at the carrot Mercedes offered, he turned away from it and walked to catch up with Taylor. As always, where Prince Albert went, Pixie followed.

  “Now, that’s love! He loves you more than food,” Mercedes cried.

  Taylor laughed, but a little sadly. She adored that Prince Albert was so devoted to her, but she hated to think what that love and devotion might cost him.

  At the end of the day on Thursday, Taylor was at her locker packing up when Plum and a group of her friends came down the hall. As always, Plum was at the center of her crowd like a queen bee, talking loud enough for all to hear. “Last night my mother spoke to the woman who owns the ranch. She told Mom that no one can ride that horse so he wouldn’t be a good lease, but Mom assured her that I can get any horse to behave.”

  Taylor’s words blurted forth before she could think about them. “I can ride him. He behaves just fine for me.”

  Plum turned slowly toward her. “Was I speaking to you?” she asked coldly. “No, I wasn’t.”

  “What you were saying isn’t true. I can ride him — but only me,” Taylor insisted as Plum and her friends eyed her with disdain.

  “Then the horse needs to be broken of that nasty habit,” Plum said icily. With a nearly imperceptible nod, she ushered her crowd forward down the hall, leaving Taylor to fume in silent rage.

  Taylor saw Travis coming toward her and was glad to see a friendly face. “You won’t believe what just happened,” she said when he was close enough to hear her.

  “Plum again?” he asked.

  “Who else?”

  “I figured,” he said. There was something in his tone that annoyed Taylor. It was as if he were bored with the subject.

  “I’ll tell you about it on the bus,” she continued as she gathered the books she needed and shut her locker.

  “I’m not taking the bus. George got me to join the computer club with him, and it meets this afternoon.”

  Taylor gazed at him with a blank expression as this new information sank in. Travis and she always sat together on the bus. Always! “You didn’t tell me you were joining the computer club,” was all she could think of to say. Travis usually told her everything.

  He shrugged.

  “How come you didn’t ask if I wanted to join, too?” she pressed.

  “I figured you’re busy with the horse stuff.”

  “I asked you to do the horse stuff with me,” Taylor reminded him, a slight, unwelcome shake of emotion coming into her voice.

  “I know, but I’m not really about horses, ya know. And I don’t think you love computers.”

  “I don’t love them, but they’re interesting and you could have asked.”

  “Then do you want to come?” he offered with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

  “Not when you ask like that!”

  Travis let out an exasperated sigh. “I have to go,” he said. Glancing up the hall, Taylor saw George, a hefty, dark-haired boy, waiting for Travis.

  “Whatever,” Taylor said, dismissing the subject. “Are you coming to the ranch on Friday afternoon? We could really use your help.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Come on. You said you would,” Taylor insisted.

  Travis began walking toward George. “I might come — if I remember.”

  * * *

  When Taylor got home that afternoon, her mother was at the kitchen table. Sitting across from her was a petite woman with large brown eyes and chestnut hair cut to her chin, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Taylor wasn’t surprised to see her because she’d spotted Claire Black’s beat-up van parked in the driveway.

  “Hey, ho, Taylor,” Claire greeted her.

  “How was school today?” her mother asked.

  Taylor flattened her palm and twisted it from side to side. “Some good. Some bad. The usual.”

  Claire’s brindle-coated pit bull, Bunny, came out from under the table to lick the back of Taylor’s hand. Smiling, Taylor scratched her between the ears. “When you got Prince Albert’s ownership papers from that woman, did she tell you anything about Prince Albert’s or Pixie’s background?” Taylor asked Claire.

  “No,” Claire replied. “I guess I should have asked. She told me Albert’s all quarter horse and Pixie’s a Shetland, but you’d already figured that out. Why do you want to know?”

  “Mercedes’s mother said we should know their lineage.”

  “It would tell us exactly how old they are, I suppose. When I get a minute, I’ll call the sheriff and ask if he has an address for the old owner. Now I have a question for you,” Claire said. “Is the ranch set up for lessons yet?”

  “Yeah, Daphne brought her horse over just yesterday. She’s going to use her for lessons.”

  “Not Prince Albert?”

  Taylor explained the problem to Claire.

  “You’re probably the first person who’s been kind to him in a long time,” Claire said. “I can understand that he’s having trouble trusting anyone else.”

  “We’re trying to get him to allow other people to ride him so Mrs. LeFleur can use him as a school horse.” She decided not to go into the additional problem of Plum, not wanting to even talk about it.

  “Well, I was on a call about an opossum living in someone’s basement today, and I started talking to the woman in the house while I set the Havahart trap,” Claire explained. Taylor pictured the baited wire cages that Claire always used to remove an animal without hurting it. “I told her about Wildwood, and she’d like to have her daughter start coming down,” Claire continued. “She’s been going online and talking to other parents of autistic children and she’s been reading about horse therapy. She’s located a therapist who will work with her.”

  “I have a cousin who has autism,” her mom said. “You’ve never met him, Taylor. He’s sort of in his own world, has trouble communicat
ing. He doesn’t follow directions well. His intelligence is actually pretty high, though.”

  “Are those, like, the kids who have aides with them in school?” Taylor asked.

  “Sometimes,” Claire confirmed. “Some autistic kids just need a little extra help to keep them on track, some need a lot of help. Anyway, this girl’s therapist would like her to start doing some horse therapy, so I suggested Wildwood as a place where they might work. She’s going to call Mrs. LeFleur.”

  “Cool,” Taylor said. “Mrs. L. will be happy for the business. What’s horse therapy?”

  “Not sure,” Claire admitted. “I guess you’ll find out.”

  “Guess so,” Taylor agreed. She decided that later she would text Daphne to give her the good news. This would be their first customer. Daphne had brought a few younger kids by, but they couldn’t ride because Prince Albert wouldn’t let them. Now that Daphne had brought Mandy over, maybe they would come back. With lots of luck, Wildwood Stables might really start to do business.

  “Hey, I hear we’re going to be working together Saturday,” Claire said. “I’m helping your mom at the Ross River luncheon, and she says you are, too.”

  “Thank you both so much for volunteering to help,” Jennifer said. “I really need a hand.”

  “Not a problem,” Claire assured her.

  Jennifer stood and opened the refrigerator. “I want you guys to try this onion dip I concocted. Tell me if it’s any good.” She set out a bowl of the dip and then returned to the refrigerator. “I’m serving the dip with a veggie platter,” she explained as she rummaged through the packed fridge. “Now, where could those baby carrots be?”

  “Oops,” Taylor murmured.

  Jennifer turned from the refrigerator to face her. “Oops, what?” she asked warily.

  “I kind of fed them to the horses yesterday,” Taylor squeaked.

  “Taylor!” Jennifer scolded.

  “Sorry,” Taylor said, backing out of the kitchen. “Sorry!”