by Tess Oliver
I swallowed back the lump in my throat and smiled up at him. “I could teach you to ride.” I looked down at my half eaten sandwich. “If you’re interested, that is.”
“That would be totally cool. I’ve always wanted to learn.” A smile spread across his face and I wondered if there was such thing as love at first smile because I realized then that I had been crazy about this guy from day one.
****
“Isn’t that Seth?” Mom asked as she picked me up from the stables.
“Yep, that’s Seth.”
“Interesting,” Mom said sounding pleased.
I watched the side of her face as she drove down the road. “Mom, sorry I’ve been such a self-absorbed beast this last year.”
She looked at me and reached for my hand. I placed my hand in hers. “You are not a beast, Brazil. You’re my baby and, as far as I’m concerned, you’re perfect.”
We drove in silence the rest of the way home.
Tyler and Raymond were sitting at the table pretending to work, but the loud laughter we’d heard before walking in the door told us there was more playing than working.
“Get to work, boys,” Mom said. “Brazil, can you make a salad while I fry some chicken?”
“After I change and clean up. I smell like horse.”
“And how is that different than any other day?” Raymond asked. More laughter.
“Brats.” I raced up the stairs and sensed that Sebastian was in my room even before I’d opened the door. My sixth sense had become extra sharp when it came to this particular ghost. I knew when he was near, when he was angry, when he was hurt. And now, after a visit to the computer lab at school today, how he died.
The journal floated in front of him. But something was different. His image was fainter and it wavered more than usual. He looked up when I walked in.
“She had tried to visit me,” he said quietly. He focused back on the diary. “On September 13th, she came here to the house. I was in too much pain to know a visitor had come.” Suddenly, the page he’d been reading ripped out of the diary and crumpled before flying across the room. “My uncle did not allow her inside.”
I walked closer to his waning image. The vapor surrounding him was smaller and denser than before. “That’s because he didn’t want anyone to discover he was poisoning you. I looked up poisoning today in the computer lab. It was cyanide. That’s why there’s a hint of almond fragrance around you. He was giving you small amounts in your tea so it looked like you were sick or going crazy. He also kept the letters from Emily knowing that the heartbreak you suffered would be hard to distinguish from the horrible way you were feeling.”
I stepped closer to his image and put my hand up. He raised his too. It had been a large, strong hand at one time. The air between our palms was frigid yet alive with static charges. “Emily loved you. You were not crazy or sick. You were murdered for your trust fund.” The whole thing sounded so tragic when spoken aloud. A lump formed in my throat. My extra sense kicked in, and I knew I wouldn’t see him again. He was fading. The energy around him was diminishing.
“My incredible Brazil,” his voice drifted into the air of my room and swirled around me. His face looked clearer for an instant and he looked sharply at the door to the hallway. His eyes focused back on me. “Your mother needs you.”
“I know. I will try to be more supportive of …”
“No, I mean now.” They were the last words he spoke before vanishing completely.
I plopped down hard on my bed and wondered how often I would try and convince myself that this had all been a dream. But I had the letters and the journal to remind me that it wasn’t.
“Brazil!” Mom’s voice sounded shrill.
“I’m coming.” I changed out of my jeans and ran downstairs to the kitchen. It was empty and chicken was burning on the stove. “Mom, the dinner is burning.” I turned off the heat and followed the sound of the TV to the family room. “The chicken is ruined, and you guys are watching TV.” Something was wrong.
Tyler sat on the floor resting against Mom’s legs, and Raymond was clutched tightly to her side. A big red banner crossed the TV screen reading BREAKING NEWS. The cameras were at an airport in London. There were dozens of emergency vehicles lining up.
I walked to the couch. Mom’s face and lips were white. Tyler had tears streaming down his face. Mom grabbed my hand as I sat down. “Dad’s plane has a large hole on the bottom. They are waiting for it to arrive.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and her eyes did not leave the screen.
My hand squeezed hers, and my throat went painfully dry as I watched the screen. I wondered how many other people were sitting in front of their TV watching what might be the death of hundreds of people. Then I wondered what might be going through Dad’s head at this moment knowing the fate of those people rested on his shoulders. “Dad is the best pilot in the world,” I whispered. “Safe landing, Dad.”
The cameras panned on a small spot in the air. The plane was heading to the runway. As it neared, we all gasped, including the news reporter. A third of the belly had ripped open, but it came in with amazing steadiness. Minutes seemed like hours as the plane slid to a final halt on the runway. When it stopped, we jumped and cheered and cried along with the people on the ground at the airport. They poured foam all over the plane, and the escape chutes were assembled at the exits. Dad’s name and picture were flashed on the screen and we cheered again.
The first passengers appeared at the emergency exit doors. They were holding each other and smiling and waving to everyone on the ground. Our phone rang, startling all of us from the crazy energy in the room. Mom jumped up and grabbed it.
“Hello.” It was all she said before she broke into shoulder racking sobs. “I always said you were one hell of a pilot, Greg.” She looked around at us.
Tyler ran up to her. “Let me talk to him.” He grabbed the phone from her. “That was awesome, Dad. They should make a video game with you as the hero.”
He handed me the phone. “Dad wants to talk to you.”
My hands were still shaking from the terror turned excitement. “Hi Dad.”
“I guess all those times you wished me a safe landing finally paid off.”
All I could do was cry like a goofball into the phone.
“Tell everyone I love them. It’s almost time for me to jump into the chute, and I think Cynthia is trying to call me.”
“Safe landing,” I choked the words out before he hung up. I put my arm around Mom’s shoulder. “He called you before Cynthia.”
She rested her head on my shoulder. “We go back a long way, your dad and I. That can never be lost.”
That evening we nibbled on burnt drumsticks and laughed at each other’s stupid jokes. It took us a long time to come down from the adrenaline rush especially with the barrage of phone calls.
We were sitting in the family room, vegging out on some dull comedy, when my phone vibrated. It was Jenny. We’d only written three brief messages to each other since I’d left Boston.
“Hello,” I said almost as if I were talking to a stranger rather than someone I’d known forever.
“Wow. That was something. Everyone over here is buzzing about your dad being a hero.”
“Yeah. He’s something.” Significant pause.
“I dumped Blake. He was getting on my nerves.”
“He’s like a hollow chocolate Santa. Scrumptious on the outside but---”
“—empty on the inside,” Jenny finished my sentence. Something she used to do all the time. There was another pause. “I don’t know why I hooked up with him the first place. I guess you were leaving, and I thought if I latched on to him, it would be like holding on to a piece of you.”
My throat ached and I swallowed. Shit, I was going to need therapy after this night.
Jenny sighed on the other end. “Either that or it was my childish way of getting back at you for leaving.”
I moved off the couch and sat on the bottom step. “Defin
itely wasn’t my choice.”
“I know.” Another pause. “Christy is driving me nuts. She’s like a clingy polyester sweater with static electricity.”
I laughed.
“Zilly, I have a car now. I thought I’d come visit you. I have a billion things to tell you.”
“If you have a billion then I have a gazillion,” I said. Lex, the fat cat, came to rub himself around my legs. I reached forward and scratched behind his ears. “Why don’t you come next Saturday and stay the night. I’m working at a local barn but I’m off at noon.”
“Can’t wait.”
“I’ll email you directions. Bye.”
I snapped shut the phone and continued to pet Lex. He was purring as if he thought his niceness might earn him an extra bowl of kibble. Jenny was coming. I wondered how much I should tell her. I had letters and an old diary to show her, but I decided to leave out the ghost part. Even though, of anyone, Jenny would believe me.
Chapter 21
I was at the barn by eight on Saturday lunging horses and riding Dusty. Not that I was waiting for him, but Seth showed up at nine. And, of course, I was waiting for him. He’d been flirtatious and friendly all week, although we’d avoided each other at school, almost like we were living a clandestine second life at the barn, which had nothing to do with our other lives at school.
Gina seemed to be hooking up with some disgusting looking senior with a shaved head and tattoo of barbed wire circling the base of his neck. Perfect for her. Of course, she still seemed to be wherever Seth was whether it was near his locker or out in the quad. From what I could see, he was totally over her. Or at least that’s what I was hoping. Oh, and because of my cool dad, I was sort of famous at school for the rest of the week until the novelty wore off.
“Pipe Dream’s owner called me yesterday.” Moses was leaning over the round pen watching me lunge Cash. “She said she’d pay you an extra twenty-five bucks a week to ride Pipe Dream.”
I lifted the whip in the air. “Hup, hup.” Cash turned and went the other direction. “Do you think I should?” Moses knew the horses, and he knew exactly what I was asking.
“He’s horrible on the lunge line, no doubt, but definitely better under saddle, with the right bit in his mouth.” Moses turned and glanced in the direction of the arena then looked back at me. “Mind you, he spooks and shies easily. He panics every time he passes the northeast end of the arena where the shrubbery surrounds it.” His face crinkled as he smiled. “But you can handle him. Probably better than his owner.”
“I’ll ride him after I’m through with Cash.”
“Just trot and canter him a few times each way. That’s all he needs.” Moses nodded and waved as he walked away.
I decided a good twenty minutes at the end of a lunge line would tire out Pipe Dream enough to take the edge off. The horse bucked, kicked and sailed through the air like always when I put him on the line. I heard a familiar and detestable giggle as I lowered Pipe Dream’s halter to put on his bridle.
Gina and the lovely friends I’d met at the burger joint pulled up in a small convertible and hopped out. Gina’s radar took her straight to Seth. He saw her and glanced over my direction for a second. He didn’t look pleased to see her.
I busied myself with the horse and pretended not to notice the whole scene, but I would have loved to be a fly on the stall wall to hear what brilliant thing she was talking to him about.
I climbed on Pipe Dream and was glad I’d lunged him first. He was very spirited, which was a nice way to describe a pumped up horse. When we got to the spooky corner of the arena, he did a sideways dance, but I pressed my leg against him and he gave up the scaredy horse act pretty fast. I could tell from lunging him that he moved nicely, and he moved smoothly under saddle. Aside from shying twice from his own shadow, he was going well.
Fortunately, Pipe Dream required my full attention, so I didn’t have time to watch what was going on with Seth and Gina. But as we went the other direction, my saddle slipped slightly. I climbed off to tighten the girth. I couldn’t help myself; I had to look their direction. Gina was staring straight at me. I guess she’d just discovered that I worked here too. I contemplated waving and yelling surprise, but instead, I climbed back into the saddle.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the brightly colored Mohawk and Gina walking back to the car. She didn’t look happy. I kicked Pipe Dream into a canter. In the distance, the rough engine of the sports car fired up. Pipe Dream’s ears turned back toward the sound, but I kept the horse moving forward. Tires squealed a donut before the horn blasted and that was it. Pipe Dream bucked clean across the arena. I held on like a freakin’ bronc rider, which is not easy in an English saddle. My tailbone smacked down hard on the custom leather. When we got to the fence, Pipe Dream stopped. I flew out of the saddle, over the arena fence, and on to the rough gravel beyond.
The thing I hated most about falling off a horse was getting the wind knocked out of me. I closed my eyes and relaxed, hoping my breath was on its way back. I sucked in air, opened my eyes and was looking right into Seth Dallas’s dreamy brown ones. His face looked a few shades paler and his chest was heaving with fast breaths.
“Ouch.” It was the only word I could squeak out.
“Are you OK? Should I get Moses or an ambulance or something?”
“I’m glad my mom didn’t see that.” I grabbed his shoulder to help myself to a sitting position and took off my helmet. Pipe Dream stood in the arena looking sheepish as if he realized he’d just done a bad thing.
My hands were shaking but I still ran my fingers through my hair fully aware of the ugliness of helmet hair.
“I thought maybe you were going to need mouth to mouth or something.” Seth’s adorable mouth kicked up to a weak grin.
I smiled at him. “I might. I could lie back down.”
Seth laughed and I wanted to kick myself for not holding my breath a little longer.
I offered him my hand. “You can help me to my feet though.”
I stood and brushed off the grit that had stuck to me. My back and tailbone were sore but that was about it. “I think we need to put a shovelful of horse shit in that girl’s locker.”
“Horse shit’s too good for her,” Seth said.
Moses stepped out of the house and looked puzzled at the scene. He walked up to us. “Why are you out here and the horse in there?”
Using my hands and a few sound effects, I demonstrated my bouncing journey across the arena and over the fence.
Moses glanced at Pipe Dream. “I always said that was a stupid horse.”
“It really wasn’t his fault. Someone honked and he spooked.”
Moses looked at me. “Like I said, stupid horse.”
I turned to retrieve the gelding.
Moses put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll get Mr. Stupid and put him away. You better go home. I don’t have to tell you what it’s going to feel like tomorrow morning.”
“You’re right. I’ll go home and start plowing down the aspirin now, so it’ll be worked up to a good level by the morning.”
Seth followed me back to the tack room so I could put away the helmet. “Do you want me to drive you home?”
I hung up the helmet. “I brought my mom’s car today. I’ll be fine.” There was so much sweetness to go with all that cuteness. I smiled at him. He still looked shaken.
Not sure how I worked up the courage but I reached up and tucked a long strand of his hair behind his ear. “You haven’t been around horses that much. Falls like that happen. Horses are not the sharpest critters of the animal world. But they are awesome.”
He nodded and I could see his Adam’s apple move in his throat as he swallowed. I stepped back leaving him with a sort of stunned expression. I dug my keys out of my pocket and smiled again. “Well, I guess I’ll head home and start those aspirin shooters.” He was silent and now I felt like a boob for touching his hair.
Seth stepped aside, but as I slid past, his arm sna
ked out and wrapped around my waist. He pulled me to him. His other hand touched the side of my face as he leaned in for a kiss. It was the kiss I’d been waiting for. The one that could make a day shoot to ten. And it did.
Bitterroot Crossing Excerpt
Read an excerpt from Tess Oliver's new book Bitterroot Crossing - Now Available
Chapter 1
The scene in our crummy little kitchen repeated itself every morning as if someone had painted it on canvas. Dad was leaning back in his chair, his open robe exposing the coffee stained t-shirt he’d been wearing for days. No job, no need to shower had become his new motto. Mom was hunched over the kitchen sink peering through the window hoping to get a glimpse of something new or interesting in the neighborhood. For her something interesting could be as stupid as the Stewarts getting a new trash can. And Bobby, my younger brother, was sitting with his chin nearly submerged in his bowl of cereal trying not to be noticed by either ridiculous parent. He didn’t have to try so hard because the second I stepped into the kitchen, my dad’s disapproving scowl found me as the main target of the morning.
Dad’s unshaven double chin wobbled as he shook his head. “I don’t know what I hate the most, Nick, those silver hoops in your ears, that long hair, or that damn tattoo of barbed wire around your arm. You look like a hoodlum.”
“And yet, last time I checked, I’m the only one sitting here who has a job. And who uses the word hoodlum anymore?” My words made him wince, but I was sick of his crap. Lately he had lots of cruel words for all of us. Whether it was about Mom’s weight, or Bobby’s bad skin, or my long hair, it was always said to make him feel better about himself and make us feel shitty. He hadn’t always been like this. Losing his job and not being able to find a new one was turning him into a total jerk.