Rodeo Princess

by M. G. Higgins

  Chapter 4

  That night I get a text message from Amy. “Ok to borrow Dilly. But u need to ride her here. Dad paranoid. Might be best if u bail.”

  I read the text three times. Her dad is paranoid? Of what? That I might hurt his precious horse? Steal her? Amy doesn’t want me there? I force myself not to throw the phone across the room. Text back, “I’ll start tomorrow.”

  The phone rings. It’s Amy. “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey. Look. I’m not so sure about this.”

  “You made the offer. Are you taking it back?”

  Silence. Then, “I need to practice too.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’ll stay in the outdoor arena. Our paths won’t cross.”

  More silence. Then a sigh. “Talk to Jesse when you get here. He’s one of our new ranch hands. He’ll get Dilly for you.”

  “I can get her myself. Just describe her to me.”

  “No,” Amy says quickly. “It’s an insurance thing. That’s why you can’t trailer her to your place. Dad is firm about it.”

  “Okay. Fine. Thanks.”

  She clicks off.

  I tell Mike at lunch the next day.

  “Dilly,” he says. “Sounds like a pickle. Not a horse.”

  “Like Misty sounds like a horse? Or Freddie?”

  He shrugs. “True. If I had a horse, I’d name her”—he pauses dramatically—“Horsey.”

  I pick up his hand. Stroke his fingers. “I’ll be training until the rodeo. Afternoons and weekends. You won’t be seeing much of me.”

  “So no movie this weekend?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  He makes a sad face. “Boohoo. So basically the next two weeks will be like the past month.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, we always have school,” he says with a gravelly voice. “And the cottonwood tree.” He leans in. Kisses me. I kiss him back. His lips are soft. His kiss gentle. Tentative. He must wonder why I let him kiss me at lunch. In the open. When I push him away when we’re alone.

  It’s because I want Amy, Claire, Dana, and Tyler to see this. I want the gossipers to talk. I want my brothers to hear. And my mom and dad. And Pastor Nichols. And other members of Grace Evangelical. “Jade and Mike,” I want the gossipers to say. Maybe with a wink. A sly smile. “They’re all over each other. They seem pretty serious.”

  He pulls away first. “Wow.” He’s breathing heavily. “I’d better stop. The bell’s going to ring.”

  He looks at me with gooey eyes. He’s in deep. I would give anything for my heart to be pounding right now. The way I know his is. He’s such a good person. A kind person. I tell myself I’m practice for him. In a year he’ll go to college. Move on to someone else. He won’t be a complete newbie. He’ll thank me for this. Remember me fondly.

  That’s what I tell myself.

  “Have I told you lately how incredible you are?”

  “You just did,” I say.

  “Well, have I told you lately that I really like you?”

  “You just did.”

  “Okay. Just so you know,” he says.

  “I know.”

  He gives me a loopy grin. “I’m incredible too. Right?”

  “Of course.”

  He nods. The bell rings. “Civics. Can’t wait.” He gets to his feet. Pulls me up. “Let’s go be civil.” He wraps his arms around my waist. We head to class.

  Amy walks ahead of us in the hallway. Troy Regan is with her. Her boyfriend since ninth grade. They’re holding hands. Wear matching silver purity rings.

  Amy and Troy. Beautiful. Perfect. They remind me of two teacups. Unbroken. Unchipped. Like the ones my grandma kept in her china cabinet. Sometimes I’m tempted to take a hammer to them.

  I drive home. Grab my boots. Saddle. Other tack. Throw it all in the back of the pickup. Climb in the cab. Remember something. Run back to the kitchen. Take a carrot from the fridge. Remember something else. Write a note: “At McNairs’ ranch. Dinner will be late. Make a sandwich if you’re hungry. Please.”

  The McNairs are our next-door neighbors. But it’s still a fifteen-minute drive. I get this weird déjà vu feeling. It’s been over three years since I was last here. The summer before eighth grade. I wasn’t driving yet. Well, not legally driving. I’d ride one of my horses. Usually Misty. Take a shortcut through our pastures. It took less time than driving.

  I head down the long gravel driveway. My heart beats a little faster. This was my second home. My second family. I see the McNairs in town every once in a while. Or at school. They’re always nice. Polite. But I’m not sure what to expect. I never found out what Amy told them. About why we were best friends one day. And enemies the next.

  I drive by the house. Where I ate so many meals. Spent so many nights in Amy’s room. I park near the stable. A guy meanders out. Steps over to my truck. Young. Tall. Tight jeans. Red-checkered shirt. Handsome face that dimples when he smiles. “Hi,” he says.

  “Hi.” I get out of the truck. “You Jesse?”

  “You must be Jade Dobbs.”

  I reach for my saddle.

  “Want me to get that?” he asks.

  “No. I’m good.”

  He walks with me to the stable. “Jade. That’s a pretty name. You named after that green stone?”

  “I don’t know. Never asked. Jesse. That’s an interesting name. You named after Jesse James?”

  “I don’t know.” He laughs. “Never asked.”

  I stop in the tack room. Set my saddle on a saddle stand.

  “I’ll bring Dilly around,” he says. Jesse walks down the wide sawdust corridor. Ten large stalls on either side. That’s just this wing. Huge compared to my four-stall stable. Everything is like I remember. Neat. Clean. Shiny buckets and oiled tack sit outside every stall. Groomed quarter horses stick their heads over their gates.

  I spent countless hours here with Amy. Brushing horses. Saddling horses. Talking about horses. It was who we were. What we did. Horse crazy. I still am. Just in a different way. A more serious way.

  Jesse leads a dapple-gray toward me. She’s beautiful. Perfect conformation. Well muscled. Her ears perk forward. I pull the carrot out of my pocket.

  Jesse sees the treat and holds up his hand. “Nope. Sorry. They’re on strict diets.”

  “Of course they are.” I shove the carrot back in my pocket. Pet Dilly’s nose.

  “I know. It’s crazy.” He lowers his voice. “Their trainer is wacky if you ask me. But I just work here.”

  I saddle and bridle Dilly. Jesse chats at me the whole time. Seems he’s twenty-one. Been here a few months. He’s a bull rider. Saving money. Planning to join the rodeo circuit at some point. “For now I’m just happy to have a job,” he says.

  There’s a noise at the other end of the stable. Amy. She just a silhouette in the bright doorway. But I know it’s her. I will always know it’s her.

  Chapter 5

  Jesse beams at the sight of Amy. His smile just about breaks his face. “Gotta go,” he says to me. “Boss’s daughter.”

  “Right,” I say. “Thanks.”

  He politely tugs the brim of his hat. Strides through the stable. He’s not hurrying because he has to. He wants to. I wonder if Mr. Perfect Troy Regan knows someone has a crush on his girlfriend.

  I throw the bridle hard over Dilly’s neck. She bobs her head. “Sorry,” I murmur. I remind myself I’m here to train. So I can win a race. That’s all. I’m going to avoid Amy. Because she asked me to. Because that’s what I need to do. Want to do. I don’t care about her love life. It means nothing to me.

  I lead Dilly to the outdoor arena. The barrels are freshly painted. Perfectly set. The dirt is raked smooth. For a second I’m flattered. Think maybe it’s for me. But it’s for the horses, of course. To lessen the chance of injury.

  I ride Dilly around the arena. Get to know her. Let her get to know me. She has a nice walk. Smooth trot and canter. She’s responsive. Sensitive. I love Freddie. I trained him. He’s my horse in e
very way. But Dilly’s top breeding shows.

  I do some drills. Circles. Then figure eights. Slow at first. Then faster. She flies. Still has more speed to give.

  I finish another figure eight. Pat her neck.

  “Hey!”

  I look over. Amy’s sitting on a bay gelding. Just outside the corral. Her posture is a little slouched. Like she didn’t just ride up a second ago. She’s been watching me.

  I ride Dilly closer. But not too close. “What?”

  “I think you’ve practiced enough today. Don’t wear her out.”

  “She’s not worn out. But if you want me to go, I will.”

  We both turn at the sound of tires on gravel. A giant SUV rolls to a stop. Sally McNair emerges from inside. Sky blue pantsuit. White silk blouse. Blonde hair set in a shoulder-length flip. Half a can of hairspray holding it in place. Most people think she’s as stuck-up as her hair. But it’s all for show. She has a big heart. I’ve always liked her.

  She floats over to us. Flashes a huge grin. “Jade!”

  “Hi, Mrs. McNair.”

  “I was thrilled when Amy said you’d be coming. I’m so glad you’ve patched things up. I’ve missed you. So has Amy. Although she won’t admit it. Stubborn, like her dad. But you know that.”

  I glance at Amy. She’s looking across the arena. Her face a blank mask.

  “Can you stay for dinner?” Mrs. McNair asks.

  “No,” Amy says for me. “She told me she has plans.” Amy gives me a subtle glare.

  “Right,” I say. “I have to get home.”

  “Well, another night this week, then. How about Wednesday? We’ll have ribs. And custard pie. Are they still your favorites?”

  I haven’t had either of those in over three years. Since I was last here. I can taste those sweet ribs melting in my mouth. The creamy, rich pie. I shouldn’t. I know that. But it’s like I’ve ridden Freddie up to the base of Rattlesnake Hill. I have no choice. I have to ride to the top. “That would be great. Thanks.”

  Mrs. McNair looks from me to Amy. Smiles wistfully. Sadly. “It’s so good seeing you two together. It’s like you’re thirteen again.” She turns for the house.

  Now I’m sad. The last three years were my fault. At least, I think they were.

  “Why did you do that?” Amy hisses. “Jade, we had an agreement.”

  “Sorry. She asked. I didn’t want to be rude.”

  “You’d better go now,” Amy says. “Jesse will take care of Dilly for you.”

  “Is it okay if I leave my tack here?”

  She doesn’t answer. Trots her horse to the covered arena.

  I lead Dilly to the stable. Unsaddle her. Throw my saddle on a rack. Jesse’s not around. I fish in my pocket. Feed Dilly the carrot before he comes back.

  “What am I supposed to think?” Dad shouts. I’ve just walked into the kitchen. “We get home from working all day. Look forward to dinner. And all that’s here is a note?”

  I rummage in the fridge. Pull out some steaks. “You know how to make sandwiches.”

  “Of course we know how to make sandwiches! Sandwiches are for lunch. This is dinner.”

  “Okay! I’m fixing it now.” I start peeling potatoes.

  He takes a beer from the fridge.

  “Dad?” I say before he heads to the living room. “I’m eating dinner at the McNairs’ on Wednesday. I’ll fix you something before I go. You’ll just have to heat it up.”

  He grunts. Leans against the doorjamb. I feel him staring at me. “You two get over your tiff?”

  “They’re letting me borrow one of their horses. For the rodeo.”

  “Will wonders never cease.” He pops the can. Slurps. “I hear you and the Price kid have been necking at school.”

  I roll my eyes. The Wyatt gossip mill is working.

  “Are you using protection?” he asks.

  I glare at him. “Dad!”

  “Your mom’s not here. Someone has to bring it up. She’ll blame me if you get knocked up while she’s away.”

  “I’m not going to get knocked up.”

  Seth has joined Dad in the doorway. “Why not?” He crosses the kitchen to the fridge.

  I lower my eyes.

  “Why not, Jade? Why won’t you get knocked up?”

  “Hey,” Dad scolds him. “What’s with you?”

  Seth gives me a long stare. Leaves with a beer.

  “What the hell was that about?” Dad asks me.

  “I don’t know.” I focus on the potatoes. “He’s Seth.”

  Dad stands there a second longer. Leaves.

  I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. Set the pot of potatoes on the stove.

  Chapter 6

  I finish making dinner. We eat. I wash dishes. Take care of the horses. Check Freddie’s leg. It’s still swollen. Not as much as before. I’m glad.

  It’s eight thirty by the time I shower. Collapse at my desk. I’ve got a ton of homework. But I just want to sleep. I look wistfully at my bed. My alarm will be blaring me awake in eight hours.

  I feel a presence in the doorway. Seth leans against the jamb. I wonder if he’s trying to look like Dad. Or if hulking comes naturally to the men in my family. “I saw something on TV the other day,” he says.

  I return to my homework. “Good for you.”

  “About being gay,” he says.

  I stare at my math book. Force myself to stay calm.

  “These experts were saying you’re born with it. There’s nothing you can do to change. Is that true?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “You know why.”

  I look up. Meet his eyes. “I’m not gay.”

  “It’s a sin. That’s what Pastor Nichols says.”

  “How would you know? You hardly go to church.”

  He shrugs. “I’m glad you’re with Mike. I really am. Even though he’s a townie. And a twerp. It’s the right thing to do. For you and our family. I was just wondering how hard it is. If you think about girls when you’re with him.”

  I glare at my brother. “I. Am. Not. Gay. Get out of my room. I have to study.”

  “Sure.” He leaves. Turns back. “You’re my sister, Jade. I care about you. I want you to be happy.”

  “I’m happy. Don’t worry about me.” I jump up. Shut the door on him. Sit at my desk. Grip the corners of my textbook. Force them into my palms. More and more. Until all I’m aware of is the pain.

  Tuesday I go to the McNair ranch straight from school. Jesse is his usual chatty self. I have to drag Dilly away from him. Want to get in as much practice as I can. She’s skittish today. A little uncooperative. I need to learn her moods. Or maybe she needs to learn mine. Thankfully, I don’t see Amy.

  Wednesday after school I make the boys a tuna casserole. Leave a note on how to heat it. Hope between the three of them they can figure it out. I work with Dilly for an hour. Just an easy trail ride today. I want this to be fun. Want her to look forward to seeing me.

  No one has to tell me when dinner is. Dinner at the McNairs’ is always at six. I wash my hands and face in the stable bathroom. Comb my hair. Change into the clothes I brought with me. A nice pair of jeans. A clean shirt. Dress boots. Head up to the house at five fifty.

  The sun is setting. Warm lamplight shines out through the massive two-story front window. My heart flops as I step onto the broad wooden porch. It’s been so long since I was here.

  The door opens a second after I knock. “Jade! You don’t have to knock. Come in.” Robert McNair smothers me in a bear hug. He’s tall. Big, but not fat. Hair graying at the temples. He lets me go. Squeezes my shoulders. “It’s so good to see you.” He says it like he means it.

  “Hi,” I say. “Thanks. It’s good to be here.” I say it like I mean it too. Because I do.

  We walk into the barn-like living room. My boots echo on the wooden floor. The room hasn’t changed much. Soft leather sofa and chairs. Chandelier made from antlers. Tall stone fireplace. Western paintings on the walls. The smell o
f barbecue wafts in from the kitchen.

  “Too bad about your horse,” Mr. McNair says. “How serious is it?”

  “He’ll be okay. The vet says it will take time.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry about the on-site rule. Darn lawyers and insurance agents. You know how it is.”

  I don’t have the slightest idea how it is. But I nod and smile. “I’m grateful you’re letting me ride Dilly. She’s a great horse.”

  “Isn’t she? Got her from a breeder in Texas. Made a sweet deal. She’s worth a fortune. If you do well on her, it will up her price even more.” He winks. Raises his chin and looks past me. “Ah, there she is.”

  Amy is walking down the stairs from the second floor. She’s wearing a tight pink T-shirt. Black yoga pants. Blonde hair pulled back in a smooth ponytail. Heat flushes my face. I bite the inside of my cheek.

  “Look who the cat dragged in,” he says to her.

  She doesn’t say anything.

  “So,” Mr. McNair says. “I’m going to see how your mom and Marta are doing with dinner. Get us some drinks. You still like Coke?” he asks me.

  “I can’t believe you remember.”

  “Of course I remember!” He gives me another wink. Mom once said Robert McNair could charm the scales off a snake. Now that I’m older I get what she means.

  Amy sinks into a soft chair. Stretches her legs out. Stares at her black slippers. I’m not sure what to do with myself. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. We’ll be sitting at the same table. Having to make conversation.

  I just wanted … I’m not sure what I wanted. A good meal? One I didn’t have to cook. With adults who care about me. Maybe I just wanted to be inside this house again. Remind myself what it’s like to be part of a normal family.

  I wander to the fireplace. Look at the painting of cows above the mantle. “Moo and Mack,” I say with a smile.