I set the dining table. We only use it on holidays. The boys grumble at first. They’re used to eating in front of the TV. But they sit where the food is. Seth and Toby dig in.
“Wait,” Dad says. “Maybe we should say grace.” He glances at me. As if asking my permission.
I think it’s stupid. We never say grace at other meals. I don’t think where we eat makes a difference to God. But it would make Mom happy. So I say, “Sure.”
We bow our heads. Dad gives a quick blessing. I shake off the religious guilt. It seems a little easier to do tonight. Because I’m still happy.
We eat. Talk about cattle. There was a late calf born this morning. They’re going to start branding next week. Dad asks me, “How’s that horse working out?”
“Pretty good,” I say.
“You gonna win?” Toby asks. “Bury that pretty McNair face in your dust?’
“Yeah. That’s the plan.”
“Of course she will,” Seth says. “Our Jade’s got balls.”
My fork freezes for an instant in my mouth. I lose my appetite. Then I start clearing the table.
“What’s wrong?” I feel Seth studying me. “Was it something I said?” he asks.
“Mom’s going to call soon,” I say.
“She’s right,” Dad says. “Help clear the table.”
“Are you kidding?” Toby says.
“No, I’m not kidding. Jade fixed a nice meal. Now clear the table.”
Mom’s call comes in a little after six. She’s happy we’re all there. I tell her about going to the McNairs’. About borrowing one of their horses. Her forehead wrinkles. “Are you and Amy friends again?”
“I think so,” I answer. Three years ago, I gave my family a simple explanation. Amy had new friends. She didn’t want to be my friend anymore. Mom always figured Amy thought she was too good for us. I never told her otherwise.
“Do you trust her?” Mom asks. “After all this time?”
I think about it. Answer truthfully, “I don’t know.”
“Be careful, honey,” Mom says. “Don’t let her break your heart again.”
Chapter 10
Mom’s words repeat in my head the rest of the weekend. Don’t let her break your heart again. They repeat in my head when Amy walks by me in the hallway Monday morning. “Hi,” she says.
Mike is with me. Does a double take. “Did Amy McNair just talk to you?”
I nod.
He ducks. “Are pigs flying?”
I don’t know what to tell him. Is this a new normal? I don’t know. Don’t let her break your heart again.
Mike and I sit at our tree at lunch. I glance over at Amy. She’s with Troy. Holding his hand. They look like they usually do. Like a couple. Taking each other for granted. I’m sure he doesn’t know about Jesse. Amy sees me. Holds my gaze. Smiles and shrugs.
I smile back. Mike strokes my arm. I quickly shift my gaze to him.
“How’s the pickle horse?” he asks.
“Okay.” I tell him about Dilly’s bad habit I’m trying to break. That she’s doing better. But it will take more work.
“Shouldering.” Mike bumps me with his shoulder. “You mean like that?”
“Right. If I were a barrel. And you were a horse.”
“A horse named Horsey?”
I grin. Shove him. “Stop it.”
“Why? I love making you smile. I’m pretty sure it’s why God put me on the planet.”
My stomach rolls. One more year, I tell myself. One more year and he’ll be gone. Off to college. He’ll find someone new.
My phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket. It’s Seth. He never calls me. My heart stops. Is it about Mom? “What?” I quickly answer.
“You need to come home,” Seth says. “Dad was in an accident.” He hangs up.
I run to the office. Tell them why I’m leaving early. Race the truck home. Seth didn’t explain what happened. But it can’t be that bad if Dad’s not in the hospital.
I swerve the truck in front of the house. Rush through the backdoor. No one is in the kitchen. The TV is on in the living room. Dad’s sitting on the couch. Resting his leg on the ottoman.
“Hey,” he says. He’s got a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry to pull you out of school.”
“What happened?” I sit next to him.
“Fell off the damned four-by-four. Twisted my ankle. Banged up my arm.” He holds his elbow.
“Did you go to the clinic?”
“Nah. Nothing’s broken. Thought maybe you could wrap it.”
“Me? I’m not a nurse.”
“It’s what your mom would do.”
“I’m not Mom! Why can’t Seth or Toby help you?”
“They’re busy branding. Which you’re going to help with when you’re done with me. I’m out of commission.”
“Dad. I’m in the middle of school. The rodeo’s this Saturday. I need to practice.”
“And we’re your family! This is our living. The calves need branding. You’re going to help.”
I close my eyes for a second. “Okay.” I go to the bathroom. Paw through the cabinet for the first aid kit.
I pull up his pant’s leg. His ankle is red. Swollen. Reminds me so much of Freddie it’s unreal. “You sure it’s not broken?”
“I’m sure. I’ve had broken bones before.”
I wrap his leg in an ace bandage. Grab a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. Form it around his ankle.
He points at the first aid kit. “Any aspirin in there?”
I open a bottle. Hand him a couple.
“Thanks,” he says. “Grab me a beer on your way out, would you?”
I take a beer from the fridge. Shake it a little. Storm out of the house before he opens it.
Seth and Toby are in the corral. They’ve managed to herd a bunch of cows inside. There’s a fire going. A branding iron in it. I’ve helped them brand before. Mom has helped too. It’s not easy with just two people. Seth has upended a calf on the ground. He’s holding its head and front legs.
My brother is strong. But the calf is bucking its sharp hind hooves. Its worried mother bellows a few feet away. Seth tries to get one of his legs around the calf. It’s not working.
I jump over the fence. Grab hold of the calf’s hind legs. Pull them back. It’s a male. He’ll have to be castrated.
“Hey, little sister,” Seth says. “Glad you showed up.”
“How many have you done?” I ask.
“Just got started,” he says. “Took us all morning to herd ’em. Dad falling put a crimp in things.”
Toby marches over. “Thanks for coming, Jade.” He gives the calf a shot of vaccine. Then attaches a rubber band to the base of its testicles. A minute later Toby is back with the glowing-red branding iron. We roll the animal on its left side. Toby presses the iron against its right shoulder. The double D brand sears its fur and flesh. Sends up smoke and stink. It’s over in about a minute. We let the calf go. It runs to its mother.
Seth and I sit there. Watch Toby twirling a lasso. Eyeing another calf. We’ll help him catch it. Flip it. And do it all over again.
Seth gets to his feet. Reaches his hand down to me. I let him pull me up. “Gonna be a long day,” he says. “You okay with that?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He laughs. Shakes his head. “No.”
We stop working when it gets dark. Trudge into the kitchen. My muscles ache. I stink of sweat and burnt fur and flesh. The sound of lowing cows echoes in my ears. I know from experience I’ll hear that echo all night.
“Hey,” Dad says from living room. I look in on him. Doesn’t seem like he’s moved. But the guys checked on him all day. Helped him to the bathroom. “What's for dinner?” he asks. “I’m starving.”
“Dinner? I’m too tired to cook.”
His face turns red.
“Dad,” I say. “I’ve heard way too much bellowing today. Do not start in on me.”
I go to the bathroom. Stay in the shower un
til my skin wrinkles. Don’t care how much hot water I waste. When I come out, the guys are in the living room. There’s food scattered all over the coffee table. Chips. Crackers. Peanut butter. Sliced ham. Salsa. Cans of beer. “Dobbs dinner of champions,” Seth says. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” I drop into a chair. Eat until I’m full.
Chapter 11
I don’t check my phone until I go to my room. There’s a text from Amy. “U ok? Dad ok?”
The school secretary must have blabbed to her about why I left. I text back, “Sprained ankle. Helping w branding. No training w Dilly till Thursday.”
My phone rings a minute later. Amy. “That leaves only two days to train.”
“I know.”
She’s quiet a moment. “Okay. See you tomorrow.” She hangs up.
I fall asleep. Too tired to think about how rude she is. How she only cares about herself. How right Mom was to warn me to be careful.
Toby shoves me awake. “Get up,” he says roughly.
“No,” I mumble. It can’t possibly be morning yet. I look at the clock. Six. Dang. I must have forgotten to set my alarm. I tumble out of bed. Quick change into my dirty jeans. Flannel shirt.
Smell coffee. Eggs. Wow. The boys cooked breakfast? Mike would be ducking for flying pigs.
Dad’s in the living room. His foot propped up. A bag of frozen corn on his ankle. A plate of scrambled eggs on his lap. Toast. Jam.
Amy walks in. Hands Dad a cup of coffee. “Can I get you anything else, Mister Dobbs?”
“No thanks. I’m great.” Dad grins. Points his fork at Amy. “You didn’t say she was coming over,” he says to me. “About knocked my socks off when she showed up.”
Amy shrugs. Smiles. I follow her into the kitchen.
“Eggs?” she says. “I made enough for an army. Wasn’t sure how many you had, so I brought a dozen from home. Marta will kill me for not asking first. But, oh well.”
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m helping. Sit down.” She sets a plate of eggs in front of me.
I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe Amy McNair is in my kitchen. Cooking. I hear voices outside. More than just my brothers. I jump up. Look through the window over the sink. Amy’s Jeep is parked in front. Along with a large pickup truck. Horse trailer. Jesse is on horseback. So are two guys I’ve never seen before.
“I told Dad what happened,” Amy says. “He likes to work his cow ponies. ‘Nothing better than cutting calves,’ he said.” She looks at the wall clock. “Are you wearing that to school?”
School. The extra guys mean I don’t have to help with branding today. I look down at my dirty jeans. “No. But I need to take care of the horses.”
“I’ll tag along.”
I scarf a few bites of egg. Head for the stable with Amy. The brisk morning air is filled with the sounds of men shouting. Whistling. Nickering horses. Lowing cattle.
“Thanks.” I’m not sure what else to say. I’m still flabbergasted.
She shrugs. “I remembered watching you guys brand one year,” she says. “It was such hard work. And with your dad injured. And your mom not here. Now you can go to school. And train Dilly.”
“It’s really nice of you. And your dad.”
We’ve reached the stable. “So show me Freddie,” she says. “I’ve never met him.” Then she sees Misty. “Misty!” she rushes over to her stall. Kisses Misty’s nose. “Oh, you wonderful old thing. I’ve missed you.” Misty nods her head. She clearly remembers Amy. The sight makes me smile.
I shovel old hay and muck out of her stall. Amy grabs hay flakes. Throws them into Misty’s clean stall.
“This is Freddie.” I open his stall. Feel his ankle. It’s not so swollen.
“He’s beautiful,” Amy says. She strokes his shoulder as he eats. “He looks really strong. Intelligent eyes.”
I step back. Watch them. I’ve wanted Amy to meet Freddie since he was born. The first time I rode him, I wanted Amy to be there. After I broke him, I wanted to ride him to her ranch.
“How fast is he?” she asks.
“He’s fast.” I pour water into their buckets.
“It’s weird being here.” She looks around. Fingers Misty’s bridle. “It’s exactly the same. So are you ready?”
“Yeah. I just need to change clothes.”
I change. We decide to share a ride to school. Take her Jeep. She turns up the radio. Her favorite country station. She clenches and re-clenches the steering wheel during an ad. Taps her polished fingernails when a song comes on. She sings. Loudly.
I laugh. Amy was always the loud and impulsive one. I was more quiet and calm. Like the day we went looking for Moo and Mack. I’d told her it didn’t make sense. The cows in the painting were Angus. My family raised Herefords. But she just barged out of the house. Tugging my hand. “Come on, Jade! I know they’re there!”
She’s wound even tighter right now.
She looks over at me. Nods to the beat of the music. “I’d think about this, you know. Almost every school day. Like, Jade and I are neighbors. We should be riding together. What a waste of gas.”
“I’ve thought the same thing.”
“So. Here we are.” She frowns. Then smiles again. “It’s like we have three years of catching up to do. I don’t know where to start.”
“We don’t have to catch up in one car ride.”
“No. But … there are things I want to tell you.”
I’m quiet. Wait for her to reveal whatever she wants to say. She fidgets with the steering wheel again. A song comes on. “Oh, my favorite!” She turns the volume up. Sings along. It happens to be my favorite too. I sing along with her.
We end up talking about horses. I’m not surprised. It’s where we left off three years ago. It’s what we have in common. And it’s innocent. Like we have nothing more to worry about than rocks in our horse’s hooves. Which trail to take. What snacks to pack in our saddlebags.
But Amy and I aren’t kids anymore. And our lives aren’t that simple.
Chapter 12
Amy parks the Jeep in the school parking lot. Turns off the ignition. We sit there a second. The radio’s off. The engine clicks as it cools. She taps the steering wheel again. Takes a deep breath. I wonder if she’s wondering the same thing I am. What comes next? Do we hang out at school now? What about lunch? Do I join Claire, Tyler, and Dana? Become a member of Amy’s crew?
Part of me wants to. It’s the part of me that’s craved being in Amy’s life all this time. But I don’t know if I’m a good fit anymore. I’ve heard bits and pieces of their conversations over the years. About guys. Clothes. Movie stars. Singers. Town gossip. School gossip. I’m not really interested. That’s not me.
And what about Mike? Lunch is the only time we’re together. Do I brush him off completely? Finally end it? I don’t want to. He’s my friend. So different from Amy, but still important. I reach for the door handle. “Don’t worry about school,” I tell her. “Nothing has to change.”
She nods. “Okay. I’ll see you after.” She must have come to the same conclusion. The two of us being friends is too complicated. But it’s still hard to hear her admit it.
She’s staring out the windshield. Not making a move to leave. There are a few minutes before the bell rings. I don’t know why, but her dad crosses my mind. The rude way he spoke to Jesse the other day. As if he’d been drinking. Was that new behavior? Old behavior I’d never witnessed before? “You said there were things you wanted to tell me,” I say. “Does any of it have to do with your family?”
She reaches behind her seat. Grabs her backpack. “I’ll talk to you later.” She jumps out of the Jeep. I watch as she trots up the steps. Troy is waiting for her. They kiss. Walk into the building.
I get out. Slam the door. Shove my hands in my pockets. Go to my locker.
“Hi, Jade.” It’s Lily. “You okay? I was worried. You left in such a hurry yesterday.”
I’
m surprised the news didn’t spread all over school. “My dad sprained his ankle. I had to help with branding.”
“Oh, yuck. I hate branding. I’m so glad my dad hires hands to help out.” We start for class. “They didn’t need you today?”
“No. Some guys came over,” I say.
“Cool. Did you hear about the barrel race?” she asks.
“I’ve been kind of busy. What about it?”
“Oh my God.” She touches my arm. “You’ll never believe it. Megan Wolf’s going to compete.”
Megan Wolf. She’s a top barrel racer. Grew up on the Northern Cheyenne Reservation. Won the state event last year. “But she’s pro. And I thought she was going to college in Bozeman. What’s she doing here?”
“Guess she’s working with a new horse. Wants a small rodeo to try him out. My dad’s an organizer this year. He took her application.”
Our event is so small, they combine all age groups and abilities.
“Talk about competition,” Lily says. “My time will be snail slow in comparison. But I don’t care. It will be fun. How’s it going with Amy’s horse?”
“Okay. Does everyone know about Megan?”
“Probably not. But they will before the end of the day. You know Wyatt.”
We walk into English. My stomach flutters. I wanted to win. Now that doesn’t seem likely. Plus, Amy was only loaning me Dilly so she’d have competition. Now that competition will come from Megan, not me. I wish I felt confident in our renewed friendship. But I don’t.
“Do you have tickets?” Mike asks at lunch.
“What?” I’m trying not to stare at Amy. To fathom each expression on her face. Her body language. Wondering if I still have a horse for Saturday. “You mean for the rodeo? No. I don’t.”
“I thought maybe you got some as a contestant.”
“No way. So you’re going?” I ask.
“Of course I’m going! You’re my sweetie.” He picks up my hand. Kisses it. “I want to see you ride the pickle horse to victory.”
I don’t tell him I might not be racing.
Rodeo Princess Page 4