High Hurdles

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Hey, Angie, glad to see you back.” DJ locked the gate behind her and strode to the center of the arena.

  “Thanks. I’m glad to be here.”

  “Is the new routine helping?”

  “Got me. But the hospital is the pits. I kept thinking of you guys out here riding and felt like sneaking away.”

  “I know the feeling.” DJ greeted the others and ordered the lesson to begin. Today if all went well, they would work on backing up.

  She led Angie to the middle to show her what she’d already taught the others. Suddenly, a girl let out a shriek.

  DJ spun around just in time to see Krissie catapult through the air and land flat out in the sand.

  CHAPTER • 5

  Out of the corner of her eye, DJ saw a cat streak across the arena.

  Krissie lay without moving while her horse tore around the ring.

  DJ dropped to her knees beside the fallen girl. With one hand, she smoothed back the gritty hair that straggled from under her student’s riding helmet.

  Krissie groaned and rolled over, clutching her stomach. “I . . . I can’t breathe.” The words came in jerks, so soft DJ could barely hear them.

  “Do you hurt anywhere else?” DJ did a visual check. No twisted limbs. Body had landed flat out. She knew what was wrong. “You ever had your breath knocked out of you before?”

  “Is she okay?” Bridget appeared at DJ’s side and knelt by the fallen rider.

  “Wind’s knocked out of her.” DJ kept a gentle hand on Krissie’s now rising and falling rib cage. “You’re gonna make it, kid. Now you know what a real fall feels like.”

  “Yeah . . . awful.” Krissie’s eye’s widened. “Where’s my horse? Is he okay?”

  “Spoken like a true horsewoman.” Bridget sank back on her heels. “Jose will have caught your horse in a few minutes. You did not by any chance feed him before riding? Jose is trying to lure him with grain.”

  “No.” Krissie sat up with a little help from DJ. “Whew, that scared me.”

  “I bet it did.” DJ stood and pulled Krissie to her feet. “Now you know why I keep telling all of you to pay attention to your horse and what’s going on around you. If you’d seen the cat before your horse did, you’d have grabbed the reins and the horn and been ready to move with him.”

  “Instead of smacking the ground.” Sam had been the one to dismount and dash across to the office for Bridget. She stood now with her horse’s reins in one hand, the other patting her mount’s neck. “Boy, I thought you were a goner.”

  Krissie brushed sand off her stomach and chest and spit out still more. “This ground felt mighty hard for being soft sand.” She took a couple of steps and spit again.

  “Here’s your horse, missy.” Jose handed Krissie the reins. “He likes extra feed as much as anyone.”

  “Thanks.” Krissie glared at her horse and started leading him toward the gate.

  “Where are you going?” DJ asked.

  “To put him away.” Krissie looked back over her shoulder.

  DJ shook her head. “Not yet. We have a lesson to finish. Mount up and join the others.” She made a circling motion with her hand, letting the girls know they should ride to the left.

  “But . . . but . . . I still have dirt in my teeth.” Krissie glanced down at her dirty clothes. “I . . .” She glared at DJ. “I want to go home.”

  “You’ll be home soon enough. Now get back on your horse, and let’s finish this lesson. Your mother isn’t even here yet.” DJ’s tone allowed no room for argument.

  Krissie looked at her now quiet horse. He stood still, head hanging. She sucked in a deep breath as if gathering courage, glared at DJ one more time, muttered something, and took the reins. She slipped a booted foot into the stirrup and swung aboard.

  “Congratulations, I’m proud of you.”

  “For what?” Krissie adjusted the reins and squeezed her heels into her horse’s sides. He moved forward as though nothing had happened.

  “For getting right back on. Tomorrow it would have been harder.” DJ turned to the others and signaled for them to change directions. “Okay, move into a lope.”

  DJ sucked in a deep breath.

  “Good job,” Bridget’s voice startled her. DJ had forgotten her teacher was still watching behind her. “You are an excellent teacher for one your age. Besides being a fine rider.”

  DJ felt as if she’d been given an Olympic gold medal, Bridget’s compliments were so rare. “Thank you. I was scared spitless. She could have really gotten hurt.”

  “Accidents happen, but falls are one of the reasons we keep the sand worked frequently. If one has to learn to fall—and you must admit, no one becomes a good horsewoman without falling a few times—a soft arena is the best place to do it.”

  “Getting your wind knocked out of you sure is scary.”

  “It is. But the only student here that would be a real problem for is Angie. It might send her into an asthma attack.” Bridget touched DJ’s arm. “See you later.”

  After the lesson, DJ stopped the girls at the gate before allowing them to care for their horses. “Today, you all had a good lesson on how important it is to concentrate on what you are doing. Horses will shy at the littlest things, sometimes even a shadow. You’ve got to be alert. You’ll get better with time. The more you ride, the more ready your body will be to move with the horse when he startles.”

  “Instead of falling off, like me.” Krissie could already laugh about it.

  “That’s right. And if you take gymnastics at school, you’ll learn the safest way to fall. Tucking your head and rolling is better than landing flat out. Now get moving, your moms are waiting.”

  DJ opened the gate. “Oh, I’ll need entry forms for the show next Tuesday. I expect you all to enter three classes this time.”

  After checking their gear and horses, answering their mothers’ questions, and praising Krissie to her worried mother, DJ felt as if she’d earned a lesson on Major. On her way to the gelding’s stall, she paused. The words coming from a stall in the other aisle burned her ears. Who was Tony cussing at now? Instead of going to investigate, she quickly saddled Major and mounted outside the barn door. She sat for a moment, not believing what she had just heard. People didn’t talk that way around the Academy. Hilary hadn’t been making Tony out to be worse than he was, that was sure.

  As DJ rode out to the jumping arena, she promised herself that she and Amy would come up with a plan—a plan to make Tony leave the Academy.

  That made two plans for her to carry out: One to get rid of Tony, and one to keep Robert from marrying her mother. She and Amy certainly had plenty of work ahead of them. She forced the problems out of her mind and concentrated on her horse. It wouldn’t be too cool if she got dumped like Krissie had just because she wasn’t paying close enough attention.

  DJ warmed up Major so he wouldn’t sustain an injury. At the same time, she reviewed his show-ring skills so she could enter him in equitation classes. Like her students, she wanted to be able to enter a minimum of three classes—and at least one of those would be in jumping. DJ had yet to take a first, even in the training shows they sponsored here at Briones Riding Academy. They had one more training show here before the big show in Danville in December.

  She focused on keeping Major’s strides as even as a metronome’s tick, no matter what gait they were in. Walk, trot, canter—all at a controlled pace that showed beautifully. “Good boy.” She patted Major’s neck and smoothed the lock of mane that insisted on flopping to the left. It wouldn’t matter in the ring. She planned to braid his mane with ribbons for the big show.

  DJ wished she had someone else to work with so she could see how Major would do with other horses in the ring. But because her horse had learned to ignore distractions during his time on the mounted police force, she knew he would be fine. He had been last time, his first time out.

  “Are you ready?” Bridget passed through the narrow gate into the jumping arena.

&nbs
p; “Sure am.” DJ wanted to tell Bridget what she’d heard Tony say but tattling wasn’t allowed. Anyway, DJ had never been a tattler. She set Major into a two-point trot around the ring and over the cavalletti. Every class began with a review of the basics. Sometimes DJ wondered if she’d ever move beyond them.

  Bridget adjusted the bars on the two middle jumps. “Now remember—all your aids work as one. Do not rush the jumps.”

  DJ did exactly as Bridget told her not to.

  “Fiddle.” She’d been practicing just this, and as soon as Bridget walked into the ring, her hard-earned skills disappeared.

  “Good job, DJ,” Bridget said at the end of the hour. “I can tell how hard you are working, but remember, people do not learn to jump in a month or a year. Be patient.”

  DJ replayed the advice as she rode back to the barn. Be patient. Easily said—hard to do.

  “What an afternoon!” Amy met her by their bikes.

  “Did you run into Tony?”

  “No, but I heard you made Krissie get right back on after she went down.” Amy slung one leg over the seat of her blue ten-speed.

  “Yeah, right. You know Bridget’s rule: Always get back on unless you are broken or bleeding.”

  “Hurts bad enough getting the wind knocked out of you.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Together they pedaled up the road to Reliez. At the stop sign, DJ planted both feet on the ground. “Ames, we have to come up with some plans.”

  Amy groaned. “DJ, you know what happens when we make plans.”

  “We need two of them. Two big-time plans.”

  “Do I dare ask what for now?” Amy turned to look at her friend.

  DJ frowned. “Tony Andrada, for one. My mother and Robert, for two. We need to force Tony out of the Academy and stop the wedding.”

  “Not asking much, are you?”

  “Ames, this is really important.”

  “Darla Jean Randall, you remember what happened when you last tried to stop a wedding.”

  “That was different.” DJ started peddling.

  “Yeah, right.”

  When they reached Amy’s house, DJ hesitated at the curb. “I mean it, Ames. I need help.”

  Amy sighed. “When do you want to talk?”

  “Tomorrow night. Maybe you can sleep over. Then we’ll have lots of time to make plans. Remember to ask if it’s okay.”

  When Amy finally nodded, DJ gave her a thumbs-up sign and pedaled off.

  Her mother was home, or at least her car was. DJ went through her usual routine, but when she roamed through the house, it had an empty look. Faint traces of her mother’s perfume lingered in the air. DJ climbed the stairs. Passing her room, she knocked on her mother’s closed door. When no answer came, she opened it a crack, then wider. Immaculate as always, the room was empty.

  DJ returned to the kitchen and checked the machine. No messages. No notes on the board. Strange. DJ grabbed an apple out of the bowl of fruit on the counter and ambled out the French doors to turn on the sprinklers. They were going to have to hire someone to take care of the yard work if things didn’t change around here. Now that Gran was gone, there were weeds in the flower beds and the grass needed mowing. Maybe DJ could get that done on Saturday before Gran and Joe took her with them to Redding.

  Back in the house, DJ dished up the remains of the leftover Chinese food and put the plate in the microwave.

  When the bell dinged, DJ took her dinner into the family room, curled up in Gran’s chair, and picked up a mystery she’d left on the lamp table and began reading. Lost in the adventures of teen sleuth Jennie McGrady, she didn’t hear the door open.

  Before she could draw into a defensive position, the Double Bs grabbed her knees.

  “DJ! We been missing you.” The two spoke as one. Two round, identical faces grinned up at her—even their curly blond hair waved the same direction.

  “So, how are you two?” DJ set her plate aside and gave them both a hug at the same time.

  “Daddy brought pizza.”

  “You like pizza?”

  “How come you’s already eating?”

  “Daddy, DJ didn’t wait for us!”

  “Didn’t you read the note I left?” Lindy, in jeans, looked like a model.

  DJ shook her head. “I checked all over.”

  “I left it on your bed so you would be sure to see it.”

  “On my bed? I haven’t even been in my room. Why didn’t you put it by the phone?”

  “DJ. DJ!” The twins pulled at her hands. “Show us your horse pitchurs.”

  “Can we color?”

  DJ tried to answer them, listen to her mother, and greet Robert all at once. She felt like clapping her hands over her ears.

  “That’s enough, boys.” The quiet authority in Robert’s voice seemed to penetrate the twins’ excitement.

  They swiveled around. “But DJ . . .”

  “No buts. Come and take your places at the table. In fact, you can help DJ set it.”

  DJ shot her mother a look. She got to her feet, smiled at the boys, and led them into the dining room. Since when was Robert giving the orders around here? And why should she have to eat? She thought of her plate of Chinese, only half eaten. She was still hungry—but that wasn’t the point. This wasn’t Robert’s house.

  She dug some paper plates out of the cupboard and handed them to the boys. “One plate each.”

  “What’s to drink?”

  “Got me. Ask your father. He seems to know better’n I do what’s going on around here.”

  “Darla Jean Randall!” The hiss came from directly behind her.

  DJ felt as if she’d been stabbed. Her mother only called DJ by her full name when she was really angry. Lindy knew how much her daughter hated the name.

  “You will be polite, you hear?”

  DJ nodded. She reached up for the glasses. “Did you bring soda to drink?”

  “No, Robert says the boys can have milk.” Lindy leaned over to check the open fridge. “Oh, we’re out.”

  “Yeah, we’re out of lots of things. No one’s been to the store.”

  Lindy planted her hands on her slim hips. “Did you mark it on the list?”

  DJ pointed out the check marks on a computerized grocery list stuck to the door with an apple magnet.

  “Oh” was all Lindy said.

  DJ took down the container of powdered lemonade and began mixing it. “If it’s sugar he’s worried about, tell him we drink diet stuff.” She held up the can. “Sugar free.”

  DJ took the napkins and forks and headed for the dining room. Knowing her mother, she would probably forget the drinks.

  “I’m sorry, DJ, I should have called.” Robert took the forks and set them around the table. The Double Bs perched on either side of an empty chair.

  “That’s okay. I’m always ready for pizza.” DJ eyed the two giant-sized pizzas, one loaded with everything, the other topped with Canadian bacon and pineapple. “And you got my favorites.”

  “Mine too.” He dropped his voice. “Left off the anchovies.”

  DJ felt the beginnings of a smile tug at her mouth. DJ had never shared her mother’s love for anchovies. “Thanks.”

  “DJ, sit here.” Both boys patted the empty seat. “We saved it for you.”

  “What can I say?” Robert lifted his hands in a shrug. “They think you’re the next best thing to Santa Claus.”

  Robert waited for all to clasp hands and bow heads. “Bobby, your turn to say grace.”

  Bobby scrunched his eyes closed. “God is great, God is good . . .”

  DJ said it along with him under her breath. Since Gran left, the Randalls hadn’t said much grace. Her mother had only done it to appease Gran.

  Billy chimed in loudly on the “Amen.”

  Neither DJ nor Lindy could stay mad through dinner. Laughter erupted, calmed, and erupted again between Robert and the boys. DJ felt as though she was in the first car on a roller-coaster.

  “Da
ddy’s gonna buy us a pony.”

  “No, two ponies.”

  DJ wished she could tell which twin was talking when. “Can anyone tell these two apart?”

  “Most of the time,” Robert answered. “But not always. At least, not immediately. I watch for certain clues. I’ll teach them to you when we have a few minutes.”

  There he goes again, as if there are going to be many nights like this. She carefully refrained from looking at her mother. Lindy couldn’t tell the twins apart, either, and she didn’t like using B&B. The pair got full giggle mileage out of her mistakes.

  By the time they’d cleaned up after dinner, DJ excused herself. “I’ve got a bunch of homework to do.” She fended off four small, clutching hands. “Later, guys. Next time we’ll draw and color.” There she went, acting as if this would become a common occurrence, just like Robert.

  Help, Amy, we need a plan—and quick!

  CHAPTER • 6

  “But, Ames, this time’ll be different. I promise.”

  Amy shook her head and sighed. “That’s what you always say.”

  The two girls rested propped up with pillows on the floor of DJ’s bedroom, frequently dipping into a giant bowl of popcorn. The item of the evening: plans.

  “I know what we can do about Tony. If everyone ignores him and we all pretend he isn’t around, pretty soon he’ll quit the Academy. And then Hilary won’t have a problem anymore.” DJ rolled over to her belly, the better to reach the popcorn. “It’s got to work.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth and licked her buttery fingers.

  “But we can’t tell Hilary.” Amy sat up. “She’ll be furious—Bridget too.”

  “I know, that’s the hard part.”

  “How are we going to let all the others know without them finding out?”

  “I’ll take care of that.”

  “Now that’s a scary solution.” Amy ducked to escape the pillow DJ threw. “Let’s go to bed—I’m beat.”

  “No way. Now we need to work on the major plan.” DJ twisted her mouth from side to side. “The plan of all plans—to keep my mother from marrying Robert.”