“You said your prayers yet?” She watched them shake their heads again. How could they do things in such perfect sync? “Okay, who’s first?”
“We say them together.” Both boys folded their hands on their chests and closed their eyes. “Dear God, bless Daddy, and Mommy in heaven, Grandpa and new Grandma, DJ, our maybe new mom, and Bandit. Please give us a new family soon and a pony—two ponies. Amen.” Their eyes popped open. “We always say bless DJ. Is that okay?”
“You bet, I need as many blessings as I can get. Good night, guys.”
“Good night, DJ. We love you.” Both voices sounded as one.
DJ turned out the light and flipped over on her back. If the twins were praying for Lindy to be their new mother and she was praying that the wedding wouldn’t happen, which prayer would God answer?
She closed her eyes and pictured the jumps at the show. Bridget always said to picture what you were going to do in your mind first and always to imagine yourself doing it perfectly. Imagining was easy. In her mind, DJ had jumped the entire Olympic course many times. She’d jumped in a Grand Prix and at the Cow Palace, too. She’d made every jump with room to spare and basked in the thunderous applause.
Now if only her butterflies would go to sleep along with the rest of her.
“What’s wrong, DJ?” Joe asked in the morning at the Academy.
“Too many things on my mind.”
“I always find that when I get in a situation like that, prayer helps more than anything else.”
“Yeah, well I prayed last night and this morning. The boys woke up when my alarm went off, and let me tell you, there was no way I could concentrate. They were so noisy! I left them watching cartoons after promising them Mom and Gran would bring them later. You suppose I had that many questions when I was little?”
Joe nodded. “From what Melanie remembers, yes. Come on, let’s get this guy loaded.” Ranger pawed the shavings in the next stall. “Sorry, fella, you have to stay home today.”
DJ led Major out to the trailer and walked him right in. Josh and Amy followed, then Hilary with her horse. Next they loaded Tony’s Thoroughbred and the other jumpers since the jumping events were always held first. Equitation classes came later, in the afternoon. As soon as the first load of horses departed, they started on the other students’ horses.
Finally, Joe called the jumpers to ride with him. DJ cringed. Would Tony join them? Sure enough. And Joe waved the creep to the front seat.
DJ felt as if she’d been smacked with a two-by-four. What was the matter with GJ? She and Amy swapped looks and made a place for Hilary. With five kids, the Explorer was full.
When Hilary slammed the side door, Tony opened his. Joe put a hand on the boy’s arm. “You’re riding with us.” He spoke in his policeman’s stern voice. Tony slammed the door and snapped his seat belt. He hugged the door as if he might be contaminated by the others.
Joe tried to make conversation, but all anyone answered was “yeah” or “no” or even a shake of the head.
DJ’s butterflies invented new stunts.
They pulled into the showgrounds right behind the long trailer.
“You’d think he was afraid of catching something from us,” DJ muttered when Tony bailed out before the truck had finished moving.
“Yeah, as if you could catch black skin,” Hilary said in the same undertone.
“We’re the ones who might catch something,” Amy added. “And I sure don’t want what he’s got.”
“Me neither.”
By the time they had the rope strung between trees and the horses spaced out, the second trailer arrived, and with it, the younger students.
DJ decided that if she heard her name called one more time, she would freak.
“Concentrate, DJ.” Bridget accurately picked up on DJ’s panic. “I will take care of the young ones until you are finished showing. Besides, their parents are here to help. They must learn what to do, too.”
DJ nodded. “Thanks.” But even when Joe put a hand on her shoulder to stop her mad scurrying, she felt like yelling. What was the matter with her? She’d never been this uptight before, not even the first time she showed.
DJ changed into her tan stretch pants, white turtleneck, and black tailored jacket. She tied her stock, watching the material drape in the mirror. After dusting off her velvet-covered helmet, she left the RV used as a dressing room and headed back for the lineup.
Joe waited with Major, who was polished to a super sheen.
“You’re looking good, kid.” He gave her a leg up and left one hand on her knee. “Come on, let’s see a smile. This isn’t the Olympic finals, you know.”
“I know.” DJ let out a deep breath. “I keep telling myself to focus, then someone calls my name and I’m off again.”
“Well, let’s get over to the warm-up ring, and you’ll be fine.”
Hilary rode in front of them, and Tony fell in behind as they followed the trail around the ring to a separate area where riders were already warming up their horses. DJ settled in her saddle, straightened her back, and reminded herself to always look ahead. She smiled at Joe and signaled Major to walk forward.
After several turns around the ring at a two-point trot, she eased him over to the cavalletti, the bars laid out parallel on the ground. She kept Major going straight and bending smoothly in the turns. All the hours she’d worked on the basics seemed to be paying off. He moved better than any well-oiled machine, his gait smooth and collected.
DJ could feel herself become more in tune with the movements, aware of the horses around them yet blanking out the rest of the world. She made a visual check, her body over her pelvis instead of settled back in the saddle like she used to ride. Sure enough, there was a straight line from her elbows to Major’s mouth. Heels down and looking straight ahead, she glanced down—right away, Major changed the beat. Back around again, over the cavalletti, one and two, relaxed and aware. She kept giving herself mental orders, sounding just like Bridget had for so many sessions.
When the announcer called for Hunter Seat, she joined the lineup at the gate. There were four entries from Briones Riding Academy in a class of ten. DJ waited her turn, keeping her mind on the horse beneath her and the class ahead.
Until Tony walked his horse up beside her and hissed out the side of his mouth, “Nigger lover.”
DJ felt her body tense as if she’d been struck. “Why, you . . . you . . .”
Tony touched his whip to his helmet and trotted into the ring.
“Next.” The ring assistant waved her forward.
DJ now understood the meaning of the phrase “seeing red.” A brilliant haze seemed to separate her from the rest of the world. She signaled Major into a trot but let him stumble as they entered the ring. The judge was staring right at her.
Concentrate! Come on, DJ, don’t let him get to you. She swallowed and forced herself to look straight ahead, focusing on Major’s ears and the direction they were going. All around the ring she gave herself instructions, but too many times she called herself names at the same time. When they placed sixth, she knew it was her own fault. Major could have done better—all by himself. Hilary took the first, and Tony the red.
DJ had to smile at the look on the boy’s face. He didn’t like being beaten, and he sure didn’t like being beaten by Hilary. There was justice in the world after all.
“What happened?” Joe confronted her as soon as she exited the ring.
DJ wanted to tell him. After all, he’d invited the creep to sit in front on the way over. But tattling had never been her style. And she resolved she wouldn’t start now. But she would get even. If only she could figure out how.
Calling herself names had become a habit halfway through the Hunter/Jumper class. She knew she was jumping ahead of Major, but she couldn’t seem to stop. As soon as he left the ground, she knew she’d signaled him to jump too soon. Up and nearly over, and—the tick reverberated through her head. The last fence. She held her breath, but the po
le didn’t fall. She finished the circle to a round of applause, but in her head, the names continued.
“I don’t deserve a horse like you when I mess up like this,” she told Major as she left the ring.
“Self-talk is for building up, not tearing down.” Bridget stopped to check on DJ with clipboard in hand. “Sometimes we learn by our mistakes. But good riders, even when they make mistakes, do not waste time calling themselves names. Let it go and learn from it. You will do better next time.”
DJ nodded. It was good advice, but could she figure out how to take it? She and Major still had a chance to show in English equitation that afternoon.
She looked up when she heard someone call her name. Two matching pairs of arms waved wildly from the log seating off to the side. Gran and Lindy had the twins corralled between them. DJ waved back and rode off to the lineup. Now she had to answer to her students and remind them not to commit the same mistakes. Yuck!
“Tough luck, DJ.” Angie turned from wiping her horse’s face with a soft cloth. “I thought you had it.”
“I wish.” DJ remained on Major to watch the final round. Hilary jumped cleanly. She and her horse looked as though they were having a party out there. How can she handle the pressure? DJ thought. Tony and one other person had already completed perfect rounds.
The other rider ticked on the next round with the jumps raised two inches. DJ held her breath and let it out with a shout when Hilary made another perfect round. So did Tony. DJ swallowed a groan. The young girls around her didn’t need to know about the problem between them, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
“He’s so cute,” Krissie whispered to Sam.
DJ shook her head. If only he were as nice as he was good-looking.
The poles went up again. DJ sent a prayer heavenward for her friend.
Hilary jumped first, another perfect round.
“This is your day, buddy, keep it up.” DJ and Amy stood shoulder to shoulder with Major on the outside, head drooping over DJ’s shoulder so she would scratch his cheek.
Only a nicker broke the silence as Tony entered the ring. His horse seemed to fly over the jumps. The oxer, a double, triple uneven poles, crossed poles and a double oxer, and the final, a square oxer. A hind foot rang on the pole. The pole wobbled but remained in place.
The crowd groaned.
“And the winner of our Hunter/Jumper class today is Hilary Jones on her horse, Prince. Hilary is from the Briones Riding Academy. Come on over here, young lady, and accept this well-earned blue ribbon and a coupon for a sack of horse chow from the Concord Feed and Seed Company.”
The arena assistant gave out the ribbons while the announcer continued. “We’ll take a few minutes to clear the arena, then start the equitation classes. Let’s give Hilary Jones and Tony Andrada, our second-place winner and also from Briones, a well-deserved hand.”
“He’s not a happy camper,” Amy said with a shake of her head.
“You suppose that’s his dad?” DJ looked over at the man talking with Tony just outside the ring entrance.
“Got me. I haven’t seen him around the barns. Tony’s mom picks him up.”
DJ turned at familiar shouts from the Double Bs. Joe had one on each hand pulling him along. He stopped them before they could run into the horses. DJ turned Major and walked back to them so they could pet the horse.
“I wanted you to win. How come you hit the pole? Don’t you like blue ribbons best? Major’s the best horse, isn’t he? I was scared you was gonna fall off. Can I ride now?”
DJ looked up to see a grin on Joe’s face. “Kinda make you tired, don’t they?”
She switched her attention back to the matched pair, who were dancing in place. “How can I answer anything when you don’t give me a chance?” She looked back at Joe. “Put them up on Major, and I’ll walk them around. Major’s tired of standing still anyway.” She wiped the smile off her face and gave orders once they were aboard. “Now, no yelling or banging your legs. You have to sit still. Grandpa Joe will walk beside you so you won’t fall.”
“We wasn’t gonna fall off.” They looked at her as if she’d said a nasty word.
“No, of course not. Now hang on. Front B, grab the mane, B in back, the saddle cantle.” She pointed to the places as she spoke. Life would be a lot easier if she could tell them apart well enough to call them by name.
When they returned, it was time to help her students and get Patches ready for the Halter class. Mrs. Johnson had been grooming him till he gleamed. DJ was wishing she had entered him in the Walk/Jog class, too—anything to give him experience.
The twins had gotten restless, so Lindy took them home after DJ placed third in equitation for fourteen-and-under riders. She didn’t feel too badly about the results—she and Major still had a lot of work to do on form and pacing.
“You could have brought Ranger for the Halter class,” DJ told Joe as she snapped the lead into Patch’s show halter.
“I know, but I’d rather get to know him better first. I’ll watch you now, and then you can coach me,” Joe responded.
“That goes for me, too.” Mrs. Johnson fell into step beside them as they walked the path around the arena. “This is so much more fun than riding up into the hills. You think I could show Patches?”
“Why not? Halter class is a good place to start, then Walk/Jog. These training shows make it really easy to begin.”
“Not like the big one after Thanksgiving, huh?”
DJ felt a flurry of butterfly wings in her stomach. She had to do better at that show, and the competition was tougher there.
Patches loved the show-ring. He strutted as though he’d been showing for years.
“You big show-off,” DJ whispered as the judge gave the flashy gelding the blue ribbon. “Now if you only minded this well when you were under saddle.”
By the end of the day, DJ felt as if she’d been run over by a six-horse hitch—with each hoof hitting her twice. Besides that, her belly felt like it hadn’t been fed in a week.
She hit the front door wanting nothing more than food and bed.
Instead, she had two tornadoes wrapped around her legs before she could close the door.
“We been waiting for you. Grandma baked cookies. Lindy made us take a nap. Did Patches win? How come you took so long? You said next time we came we could color. Dinner’s ready, and you get to sit by both of us.”
DJ felt like burying her head under her pillow. “Put a cork in it, guys.” At the frown on her mother’s face, DJ stopped trying to walk and peeled each twin off her leg and set them in front of her. “Now, give me a minute, okay?” At their nods, she continued, “No more questions.”
They nodded again—in unison.
“Get to the table, boys. Joe, you and DJ want to wash up? Dinner is ready.” Gran lifted a covered dish out of the oven. She set it on the counter and handed DJ a peanut-butter cookie. “That’ll hold you till you get to the table.”
At least it was quiet in the bathroom. DJ decided she’d never gripe about a quiet house again. She washed her hands and wiped a smudge off her cheek. Must have been a kiss from Major. Back down in the dining room, the boys patted the empty chair between them in case DJ didn’t know where to sit.
Joe led the grace. “God is great, God is good, and we thank Him for our food.” At the “Amen,” one of the boys started to say something, but a look from Joe stopped it.
DJ promised herself she’d ask him how he did that.
Sunday after church, they all picked up Amy and went to the gallery where DJ’s drawing hung on display.
“How come you didn’t get the purple ribbon?”
“I like it better.”
“So do I, guys, but an honorable mention isn’t too bad.” DJ studied the artwork around hers. She had to keep telling herself that.
“I like yours the best,” Amy finally said after looking around. “All this other stuff is . . . is . . .” She turned to Gran. “What would you call it?”
; “Modern art is as good a term as any. They were obviously looking for something unusual here.” Gran stopped to study a sculpture.
“What do you think it is?” DJ whispered.
“It isn’t what it is, but how it makes you feel.” Gran turned to her with a smile.
“It makes me feel hungry.”
“Oh, great—all my artist friend here can say is that it makes her hungry.” Amy danced away from DJ’s threatening look.
“I think we’d better leave,” Lindy said. “The boys are about to knock something over, and then where will we be?”
“Apologizing, most likely.” Gran put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Other visitors looked at her kind of strangely, but the boys came running back.
“You better teach me how to do that.” Lindy curled a lock of hair behind her ear. “Or get me a leash.”
“Well, I think you can be very proud, darlin’. Your drawing stands out among the rest of the works hanging here.” Gran gave DJ a hug.
“She means yours is the only one that makes sense,” Amy whispered with a giggle.
By Sunday night when Robert came for the twins, Lindy was the one who looked like she’d been caught under the six-horse hitch—and dragged.
CHAPTER • 10
“Did the boys behave?”
“We was good, Daddy. Wasn’t we?”
“Yes, of course.” Lindy pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead. She didn’t even have any lipstick on, and she still wore the jeans she’d put on when they went to the park to play on the jungle gym. They’d stopped for hamburgers on their way home, and a smear of ketchup decorated one pant leg.
DJ hung back and watched as Robert kissed Lindy, then bent down to hug and kiss the boys, who by now had glued themselves to his legs.
“Did you bring us a present, Daddy? Did you? Did you?”
“Shh, boys—in a minute.” He looked at Lindy. “Sorry I’m late. We’ve been stacked up over northern California waiting for something to clear at the airport.”
“Daddy!”
“No problem.” Lindy swiped the hair back again.
High Hurdles Page 31