Playing for Keeps

by Suzanne Weyn

  Getting to her feet, Taylor yanked up fistfuls of dandelion flowers. One by one, she snapped the stems short. Coming alongside Pixie, Taylor began tucking the dandelion flowers into Pixie’s frizzy mane. “You haven’t been getting much attention, either, have you?” she said gently as she decorated the coarse, wiry blonde hair. “But you never seem to mind.”

  Taylor thought about her father. Now that he’d moved out, she hardly ever saw him. He’d told her he was coming by this week, but here it was Sunday and he still hadn’t shown. Did she feel hurt? Sure she did. It helped that she hadn’t really believed he would come by — because he never did — but somewhere in the back of her mind she’d held out a small flicker of hope.

  Was it the same for Prince Albert? Did he sit in his stall every day and hope Taylor would come? Were three out of seven days a week enough? Maybe in his mind it was not. She hated to think of him biting on his stall door anxiously, not knowing if she would arrive.

  She would come to the barn more often, she decided.

  But that would give her even less time to spend with Travis.

  Taylor got into the saddle and headed back toward the main building. As she got close, she could see that Mandy was grazing at a grassy corner inside the corral. Daphne was standing in the middle of the corral holding a long lead line that was looped around Shafir’s neck, and she had the young mare walking in a circle. In Daphne’s other hand, she held the wand that Dana had used the other day.

  Pausing Prince Albert and Pixie just outside the corral, Taylor stopped to watch.

  Daphne looked over at them and smiled. “Nice hairdo,” she remarked with a nod at Pixie’s flower-strewn mane.

  “Thanks. Shafir wouldn’t take the halter?”

  “No,” Daphne answered. “It was probably too soon for that, anyway. I’m just trying to get her to obey my voice commands right now. So far she only goes if I tap her with the wand as I click. She’ll stop if I say ‘whoa,’ but only if I hold the wand in front of her.”

  “It sounds like a good way to start her on voice commands,” Taylor commented.

  “It’s not bad for the first day,” Daphne agreed.

  “Where’s Mercedes?” Taylor asked.

  “Shafir turned abruptly and knocked her down.”

  “Is Mercedes okay?” Taylor asked.

  “I don’t think anything is broken, but she slid in the dirt and got some scrapes and bruises. She just threw the halter down and stomped off, so I guess she isn’t in the best mood.”

  “Oh, dear,” Taylor murmured. She was about to dismount when a black SUV drove into the ranch, going too fast before stopping abruptly. Beverly Mason got out at the same time Plum stepped from the passenger side. “That’s him, Mom,” Plum said, pointing to Prince Albert. “See, he can be ridden. She’s riding him right now. Look!”

  Taylor froze in the saddle for a moment, unprepared for Plum’s sudden appearance. But she realized that she should have expected them. Mrs. LeFleur had told them to come back in a week, and the week was up. Was this it? Was Plum about to get her lease on Prince Albert?

  Don’t just sit there, say something! Taylor urged herself. “He’s very difficult,” she blurted after a moment. “I’m the only one who can handle him.”

  “I can handle him,” Plum said, waving her off. “If he won’t let me ride him at first, I’ll get him to change his mind.”

  “Is Mrs. LeFleur here?” Beverly asked.

  “No!” Taylor lied impulsively.

  Plum and her mother looked at Taylor skeptically. “Whose car is that, then?” Plum asked, pointing at Mrs. LeFleur’s green Volvo.

  “Not sure,” Taylor kept up the pretense. “I think one of the workers left it there.”

  Sensing the tension in Taylor’s body, Prince Albert’s ears flattened. His tail swished, a sure sign of aggressive behavior.

  “See how he is?” Taylor said, desperately searching for anything that would put Plum off. “He’s not friendly. He’ll buck anyone who tries to ride him.”

  Mercedes trudged out of the main building just then. Her clothing and curly hair were dusty, and her cheek was badly scraped.

  “She tried to ride him,” Taylor said, seizing on a desperate plan.

  “Is that true?” Beverly asked Mercedes.

  “No,” Mercedes replied.

  “Yes, it is!” Taylor insisted firmly, hoping to convey something in her voice that would tip Mercedes to go along with the deceit.

  “No,” Mercedes maintained.

  “Then how did … that … happen to you?” Beverly questioned.

  “I was only trying to get a halter on. I wasn’t even thinking of riding. I’m not that crazy.”

  Taylor chewed her bottom lip nervously, not daring to even breathe or do anything to change this good luck. Mercedes had completely misunderstood which horse they were talking about.

  “What about that horse?” Beverly asked, nodding at Shafir.

  “She’s a wonderful horse!” Taylor said, speaking before Mercedes would have a chance to say anything to the contrary. “We just got her from Ross River Ranch.”

  “Ross River Ranch,” Beverly echoed, and from her tone it was clear she was impressed.

  Mercedes shot Taylor a puzzled look.

  Taylor answered her with a pleading expression. Just go along with what I’m saying. Please! Please!

  Plum watched Daphne guide Shafir around the ring. The playful young mare seemed to think it was a game and had taken on a prancing gait, her head held high.

  “She is pretty,” Beverly commented.

  “Beautiful,” Taylor agreed. “This horse I’m on is at least fifteen, maybe older. That horse, Shafir, is only five. She’s a little behind on her training, but she’s very smart and cooperative.” Taylor glanced quickly at Mercedes. Don’t say she’s not cooperative, Taylor’s eyes implored.

  Mercedes gave a light, fast wink, and Taylor relaxed a little. She had figured out what Taylor was up to and wasn’t going to say anything.

  Mrs. LeFleur came out of the main building, an inquisitive look on her face.

  “Mrs. LeFleur,” Beverly greeted her.

  “Oh, hi, Mrs. L., you’re here after all!” Taylor greeted her with a nervous laugh. “What do you know? I didn’t see you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mrs. LeFleur asked.

  Ignoring the question, Taylor gestured toward Plum and her mother. “Good thing you’re here now. The Masons are interested in leasing Shafir.”

  Taylor wished Mrs. LeFleur didn’t wear such thick glasses. Not being able to see her eyes made it hard to read her expression. Time seemed to crawl as Mrs. LeFleur stood there without saying anything.

  “Mrs. Mason, come to my office and let’s discuss it,” Mrs. LeFleur said finally.

  Taylor dismounted. By the time she came around in front of Prince Albert, Mercedes had gone into the corral with Daphne.

  “You know,” Plum said before Taylor could escape into the stable, “you’re not a better rider than me.”

  “I never said I was,” Taylor replied.

  “Yeah, but you think it.”

  “How do you know what I think?”

  “Puh-lease. It’s easy enough to tell. You think I couldn’t ride any horse that you could ride? Not likely.”

  “Not any horse, just Prince Albert.”

  “That’s because you let him do whatever he wants. You’re a pushover and he knows it.”

  “Plum, you don’t usually talk to me, do you?”

  “No. You’re right. I usually don’t talk to you.”

  “Well, keep up the good work,” Taylor said as she took hold of Prince Albert’s halter and steered him toward the main building.

  I feel so guilty,” Taylor told Daphne late that afternoon. Along with Mercedes, they had just finished mucking and haying all four stalls. They had groomed, watered, and fed the horses. Mercedes’s mother had come for her, honking the horn impatiently until she ran out to the car. Daphne was waiting f
or her father, and Taylor was keeping her company on the picnic table outside the corral under the towering maple.

  “Why, because you lied to the Masons?” Daphne asked as she ran a brush through her long, silky hair.

  “I didn’t exactly lie. Besides, I don’t feel bad about that. I feel terrible about what I’ve done to Shafir.”

  “Hmmm,” Daphne mused, a serious expression on her face. “That.”

  “Yeah. That,” Taylor echoed miserably. “I started talking without thinking — which is something I do way too much, I know. But I was so scared that she was going take out a lease on Prince Albert. I don’t think he could take the abuse Plum dishes out. It could kill him!”

  “At least that didn’t happen,” Daphne said. Plum and her mother had become fascinated by Shafir’s elegant beauty. Suddenly, Prince Albert was no longer interesting to them. They’d driven away happy with a signed lease for Shafir.

  Mrs. LeFleur had also said she was pleased. The Masons would now be paying for part of Shafir’s upkeep. It made the young horse less of a drain on Wildwood’s slim financial resources.

  But Taylor now felt awful. What terrible fate had she brought down on lovely, playful Shafir?

  “We’ll watch her,” Daphne said after they’d sat together a while longer in glum silence.

  “What do you mean?” Taylor asked.

  “Every time Plum is here, one of us has to stay with her. That way we can stop her from doing anything too awful.”

  “Good plan, but Plum can’t stand me. She thinks I’m beneath her. She won’t want me hanging around,” Taylor pointed out.

  “Then you have to change that. Mercedes and I have other things to do. We can’t be with her every second. Besides, if you don’t mind me saying it, you’re the one who talked her into the lease.”

  “I know!” Taylor cried unhappily. “But we’ve never liked each other — not since first grade.”

  “It’s no big deal. Just stop treating her like she’s got fangs and claws.”

  “I don’t do that!” Taylor objected.

  Daphne looked at her and nodded. “Sorry, but you kind of do.”

  “She does have fangs and claws,” Taylor muttered.

  “See!”

  “Okay! Okay!” Taylor said, laughing lightly despite her gloomy mood. “I’ll try.”

  Daphne’s father’s car turned into the ranch, and Daphne hopped off the table. “You’ll have to do better than try. You’ve got to convince Plum that you like her,” she said as she pulled open the passenger side door.

  “I don’t know if I can do it,” Taylor objected.

  “You did a pretty good job of lying your head off today,” Daphne teased. “I have faith in you.”

  “Gee, thanks loads,” Taylor said quietly, waving as Daphne and her father drove off.

  Mrs. LeFleur came out of the main building and was headed for her green car when she noticed Taylor. “Want a lift home, kiddo?” she offered. “We can toss your bike in the trunk.”

  “Thanks,” Taylor said, taking her bike from the tree where it had been leaning and wheeling it toward the car.

  “It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?” Mrs. LeFleur remarked as she slammed the trunk shut. “Are you happier now that Prince Albert is safe?”

  “Yes, but now I’m worried about Shafir,” Taylor admitted.

  “You’re a big-hearted girl, but you can’t worry about everybody,” Mrs. LeFleur commented as they both slid into the front seat. “Those slim shoulders won’t be able to take the weight after a while.”

  “But I brought Shafir here. And I’m the one who convinced Plum to lease her.”

  Mrs. LeFleur started her engine and pulled the car out. “That’s true, but Shafir is young and strong. And willful! Plum will have a tough time if she tries to dominate her by force. I’ll keep an eye on Plum, too.”

  “Do you know about what she should be doing?” Taylor asked. “Will you be able to tell if she’s doing something bad?” She was never sure how much Mrs. LeFleur actually knew about horses.

  “I may not have ridden in thirty years, but I rode a great deal before that. Someday I’ll tell you about it, but not now. I am weary from the day’s activities. Trust me, though. I know what’s good for a horse.”

  Mrs. LeFleur’s reassuring words flooded Taylor with relief. “Thank you. Thank you for everything,” she said with heartfelt gratitude.

  “Dear girl, no need to thank me,” Mrs. LeFleur replied. “No need at all.”

  When Taylor walked in the door, her mother was in the living room speaking spiritedly to someone on her cell phone. “Absolutely! Not a problem. I’ll be over tomorrow and we can plan your menu. My pleasure! See you tomorrow.” Jennifer turned and smiled when she noticed Taylor. “I have been on the phone all day with people who were at the luncheon yesterday. I’ve booked four dinners, a luncheon, and a church social. Plus, I’m going to meet with two possible jobs tomorrow.” Jennifer pulled Taylor into a tight hug. “We did it, Taylor! We were a hit!”

  “You did it, Mom. Claire and I just helped.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Jennifer insisted. Breaking from the hug, Jennifer studied Taylor. “Sit down a minute. I want to talk to you.”

  Taylor sat on the couch and Jennifer sat beside her. “Listen, Taylor, I want you to know that I realize these last months haven’t been easy on you. I’m sure you miss Dad, and I’ve been so absorbed in starting my catering company that I haven’t been around for you as much as I used to be. I’m sorry about that. But if this business is successful it will mean so much for both of us. You’ll be able to —”

  Taylor reached out and touched her mother’s arm. “I understand,” she said. “I really do. What you’re doing takes a lot of your time. But you’re doing it to make things good for us. I know.”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  “Sometimes I mind,” she admitted. “But I can deal.”

  Jennifer reached over and hugged Taylor once more. “You’re the best,” she said.

  “You’re the best, too,” Taylor replied.

  After a moment, Taylor got up. “I’d better do my homework.”

  “It’s Sunday night, and you still haven’t done your homework?” Jennifer asked pointedly.

  “I’m doing it now.”

  Taylor headed for the stairs to go to her room. “By the way,” Jennifer said, “Travis called.”

  A flutter of happiness flew through Taylor. “What did he want?”

  “He said to call him.”

  The moment Taylor was in her room, she took her cell phone from her pocket: LOW BATTERY. That explained why Travis had called on the home phone. She tried calling him back but the phone died completely.

  Taylor went back downstairs and got the cordless house phone.

  “Homework!” Jennifer reminded her, calling from the kitchen.

  “In a minute; my phone died and I want to call Travis.” Taylor tried but got the message machine. “It’s Taylor. I’m calling you back. Call me.”

  Upstairs in her room, Taylor opened the laptop computer she and her mother shared. She knew she should get to the report that she owed Mr. Romano, but she couldn’t resist a quick Internet search first. Typing in the name Bernice LeFleur, Taylor waited while the hard drive searched.

  Taylor clicked on the first of five websites, which was an old edition of the New York Times. It was a society page from 1968. There was a picture of an elegant woman with long, straight black hair in a white minidress with a wreath of white flowers around her forehead. Beside her was a handsome man in a tuxedo. He had shoulder-length blond hair. The subhead was: SOCIALITE DEVON MOORE TO WED TYCOON’S SON, HARRISON ROSS.

  Taylor wrinkled her nose in confusion. She’d searched for Mrs. LeFleur, not Mrs. Ross.

  Then she saw it.

  Behind the young Mrs. Ross was an even younger-looking woman. She had long, straight hair parted in the middle and wide, expressive, heavily lined eyes. Scanning the art
icle, Taylor discovered that someone named Bernice LeFleur had been the matron of honor.

  Mrs. Ross and Mrs. LeFleur did know each other!

  And they’d been close, too.

  Now Taylor was dying to know what had happened between them.

  * * *

  At school the next day, Travis was not on the bus nor was he at school. Taylor was dying to call him — he hadn’t called her back, and she wanted to know why he’d called in the first place — but cell phones were forbidden at school.

  Taylor saw Plum in the hall. She was surrounded by her usual crowd of friends.

  Taking a deep breath to get up her nerve, Taylor forced herself to call out to Plum. She was determined to do as Daphne had suggested and make Plum think she liked her. “Hi, Plum,” she said brightly. “You got a great horse. It was fun yesterday, wasn’t it?”

  Plum glared at her in disbelief. “I don’t talk to you, remember?”

  “Oh, did you take that seriously? I was just joking!”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Plum grumbled, without stopping. Feeling completely stupid, Taylor watched Plum shrug her shoulders as she moved down the hall and her friends asked what that had been about.

  “See ya at the ranch!” Taylor called after her.

  When Plum turned the corner of the hall, Taylor pressed her forehead into her locker, feeling like a total idiot. How mortifying!

  “Are you feeling well, Taylor?” Mr. Romano asked, an expression of bewilderment and concern etched on his face. It was obvious that he’d witnessed her encounter with Plum. “Should I be sending you to the nurse?”

  “Probably,” Taylor replied drolly.

  That afternoon, Taylor stopped her bike under the Wildwood Lane sign and punched in the numbers to Travis’s cell phone. It was the sixth time she’d called him, and this time she got the same response as before: “Travis Ryan is not available. To leave a message, press one….” For the fifth time, Taylor clicked off. She didn’t want to leave another message. She needed to speak to her best friend.

  He was her best friend, after all. Taylor knew friends could drift apart, but she wasn’t going to let that just happen — not if she could help it, though she wasn’t sure if she could.