High Hurdles

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Gran will be coming with Lindy, and Robert will meet them there with the boys.” Joe looked over at her with a smile.

  DJ groaned. “Now you tell me. Do they have to come?”

  “Why, child, I thought you’d be pleased.”

  “I am—I think. But when my family’s around, the butterflies act as if I’m performing for the president of the Olympic games or something. Joe, you have no idea what I feel like inside.”

  “Sure I do. When I was a member of the force’s mounted drill team, I had worse butterflies than when I faced an angry crowd. The anticipation gets to you.”

  Even after they had the horses tied to the rope stretched between trees and the announcer had made the first call for Hunter/Jumper, Hilary wasn’t there.

  “Should we saddle her horse?” DJ and Amy looked at each other.

  “Yeah, she’ll be here.” Amy turned to leave. “You saddle Prince, and I’ll go ask Bridget to make sure Hilary is last on the program.”

  “Good idea.” DJ had already changed into her riding gear, but, with Joe’s help, she managed to stay neat.

  God, please, please, please make Hilary all right. Help her to get here in time. The prayer kept pace with her hands as she brushed the tall sorrel horse. Hilary usually braided Prince’s mane—DJ should have done that.

  She looked over at Major. She and Joe had finished his braid just a few minutes before. The red ribbons made Major look like a professional show horse. Having someone to help her sure made a difference. A nice difference. What would it be like when the boys and Shawna started showing? The thought made her gasp. What a circus that would be!

  “DJ, we’s here.”

  “Good luck, DJ. Now stay back, boys. You can hug DJ later.” Robert grinned at her. “We just wanted you to know you had a rooting section.”

  “You look pretty, DJ. Major too.” The boys couldn’t move. Robert had them in a steel grip.

  “Say good-bye. See you later.”

  As they left, the squawk boxes announced the second call for Hunter/Jumper.

  DJ mounted Major, and Joe unsnapped Prince’s lead line. Together, they started around the track to the warm-up ring on the other side of the huge covered arena. The Black Diamond Riding Center sprawled over ten acres and looked like a place out of the movies. Tubs of blooming plants, white-board fences, a shaded picnic area, and an enclosed plot with swings and climbing equipment for bored children. With stalls for over a hundred horses and four rings beside the covered area, the place made DJ drool.

  But where was Hilary?

  Riders loosening up their horses circled the open arena, big enough to equal the two at Briones combined.

  “Hilary’s on last. You’re in the middle,” Amy said with a rush. “How about if I warm up Prince?”

  “Good idea.” Together, the two girls entered the arena and joined the circling throng. If all of these riders were entered in Hunter/Jumper, the class would take hours. DJ’s heart sank. She didn’t have a chance.

  She put that thought out of her mind and focused on Major, slowly warming him up and concentrating on the event ahead of them.

  The announcer called the first entrant. She could hear the applause and then a groan from the spectators.

  The next time around the arena she saw Joe flag Amy. Hilary stood by his side. DJ trotted over to join them. “What happened?”

  “First our car wouldn’t start, then it stalled halfway here.” Hilary adjusted her stirrups and mounted as she spoke. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Prince for me.” She held out a hand. “See, I can’t quit shaking.”

  “Take a deep breath and let it all out.” Bridget had joined them. “You will be fine. Relax your shoulders and breathe deeply again.” Bridget’s voice held all the calm of a summer lake. “Now, Hilary, you know how to concentrate, so get out there and do it. Forget what has happened and do your job.”

  “Thanks, Bridget. How is Tony’s horse?”

  “He will be okay in a week or two. Thank you for all the extra time you put in with him last night.”

  DJ looked from Hilary to Amy and gave a brief shake of her head. What was Hilary, a saint or something? Amy raised an eyebrow. It was obvious she wondered the same.

  “Two more and you’re on.” Bridget nodded toward the gate to the show-ring. “Do your best. That’s all anyone can ask.”

  DJ waited her turn, Joe standing beside her.

  “I think it’s worse being your grandfather than showing myself.” He looked up at DJ with a smile. “Know what I mean?”

  “Yep, that’s how I feel when my students are in the ring. I want them to do well so badly.” DJ stroked Major’s neck. “You know, nothing seems to bother this guy. He’s calm as a sleeping dog, but I can tell he’s ready to go.”

  “His years of police training in action. Sure wish it worked for me.” He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Okay, kid, do it. I’m going up into the stands where I can see better.”

  The announcer called DJ’s number. She took a deep breath, let it out, and trotted into the ring.

  “Go, DJ! Y’all can do it.”

  The Southern accent. She didn’t dare look. Tony Andrada was in the stands and cheering for her.

  DJ put everything out of her mind but the jumps ahead. She signaled Major and away they went. Plain fences, an oxer, three jumps of varying heights, an in and out, a brush. DJ thrilled to being airborne. She and Major were one. The rhythm of canter, thrust, fly, and land echoed in her heart. Perfect. Yes! This was what she wanted most in life.

  They completed the round to a burst of applause. Two small voices screamed, “DJ! DJ!” A glance up at the stand told her the entire family was there, even Andy and Sonya with Shawna.

  DJ bit her lip. They had all come to see her and Major. She rode out of the ring to their enthusiastic cheers.

  “Way to go.” Tony, on crutches, was the last to congratulate her.

  “That was some jumping, kid, and, Major, you didn’t look too bad yourself.” Joe met her outside. He clapped one hand on DJ’s knee and slapped the horse’s shoulder with the other. “I’m so proud of you I could pop.”

  Amy trotted up. “That was great, DJ. And did you notice who is here?”

  “I know. Tony. I can’t believe it.”

  “And he was cheering for you—man, was he ever cheering. What do you think happened?”

  “Got me.” She stopped to listen. “Hilary’s up next. I want to go watch.”

  “I’ll take Major, you go on.” Joe reached for the reins. “I already saw the jumper most important to me.”

  DJ blew him a kiss as she dismounted and ran for the arena.

  Hilary jumped a flawless routine.

  Tony Andrada shouted and cheered as if they were best friends.

  “God must’ve done a miracle.” DJ looked at Amy and shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”

  Five people made it into the second round, DJ and Hilary included.

  “I thought last time was bad—this is worse.” Even under her gloves, a hangnail tempted DJ to chew it. She wouldn’t make it around the arena again. She had to go to the bathroom.

  The first entrant knocked a bar down. The second jumped clean.

  DJ rode in third position. “Okay, fella, this is the test.” With each clean jump, she felt more like she was flying. Up, airborne, and down. Major kept his ears forward and grunted with each landing. “One more.” Thrust, fly, and—the tick echoed in her mind. She finished the course and exited to cheers, Tony one of the loudest.

  DJ glanced up at her cheering sections—one made up of family, the other of academy riders.

  The fourth entry’s horse refused a jump. That left only Hilary.

  Joe again held Major so DJ could watch. She stood with her hands behind her back, fingers crossed and prayers flying heavenward. Amy, right beside her, did the same.

  Hilary and Prince jumped a clean round to the roar of the spectators. She’d have to go another. While the a
ttendants raised the poles another two inches, DJ dashed outside.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll stay here.” Joe waved her back to the arena.

  DJ felt as though she’d chew all her fingernails down to the quick. But with her fingers locked in a prayer, that would have been hard.

  The first entry, a man, trotted into the ring. But, with a perfect round, he rushed the last jump. The pole wobbled and fell.

  “Come on, Hilary. Even a tick will take it now. Do it, Hil, do it.”

  Hilary Jones jumped a perfect round.

  DJ and Amy stamped their feet, pounded their hands together, and screamed at the top of their lungs.

  “You’ve got to get your ribbon.” Amy jabbed her friend with her elbow.

  “Oh, right.” DJ flew back out to mount Major. She followed the others back into the ring and accepted the third-place white ribbon. This time she didn’t feel bad about not placing higher. A white ribbon in a group this size was fantastic.

  When she stopped Major in front of Joe, she grinned at him. “Thanks for the horse, GJ.”

  “You’re welcome.” He let out a sigh as if he’d been swimming under water. “Let’s go put this animal away, and I’ll treat you to—I don’t know, whatever they have over at that food room that looks good. I feel like I’ve been jumping those hurdles myself.”

  “DJ, I can’t thank you and Amy enough. I’d have had to cancel without you.” Hilary stopped her horse on the edge of the group.

  “No problem. You’d have done the same for us.”

  “You did the same for me.” Tony leaned on his crutches. “Bridget told me how you worked with my horse last night.”

  “It was nothing. That’s the way we do things at Briones.”

  “Yeah, well . . . thanks.”

  DJ watched him hobble back to the arena. She shook her head. “Can you beat that?”

  That afternoon after lunch, DJ took a breather from her showing and teaching duties. She joined her family in the stands and propped her elbows on the bench seat behind her.

  “Want a cookie, darlin’?” Gran leaned over Joe to offer DJ a chocolate chip cookie.

  “Yes, thank you.” Joe took it and bit into it.

  “Not you, you big galoot.” Gran thumped him on the arm.

  “You said darlin’.” He winked at DJ and looked soulfully at Gran. “How was I to know which darlin’ you meant?”

  Gran dug in her box for another cookie. She shook her head at the clamoring Bs and handed it to DJ. “You’d think these characters hadn’t already eaten half the box.”

  “Thanks, Gran.” DJ munched and watched as Gran opened the box and let the boys each have another cookie. “You’re a soft touch.” She looked at Shawna sitting quietly on her other side. “Did you get any?”

  The girl nodded. “DJ, you were awesome. You think I’ll be able to ride like that someday?”

  Andy groaned. “Next I suppose we’ll have to buy a house out here, too.”

  “Really, Daddy?” Shawna’s blue eyes lit up as if someone had just turned on a Christmas tree. “When?”

  “We’ll just send her to live with Robert and the boys.” Sonya reached over Gran’s shoulder and helped herself to a cookie. “How’s your house coming?”

  “Plans are finalized, now I just need approval from Contra Costa County. As soon as the permits are in my hand, my men’ll go to work.” Robert stretched his long legs over the seat in front of him. “Boys, no running.” He snagged one of the Bs by the back of his shirt.

  “Hey, Lindy, did you get approval for your thesis?” Sonya turned to ask.

  “Probably Monday. It looks pretty safe.”

  DJ glanced at her mother. How come she hadn’t told her daughter? You’d think that was good enough news to share. But DJ remembered back to the scene in the bedroom the night before. Probably her mother hadn’t been thinking much about her thesis when she was crying over Robert. Grown-ups were so strange.

  A shriek, cut off by a thud, derailed the thought. DJ leaped to her feet. But not before Lindy, who was closest to the edge of the bleachers. She was over the side and on the floor before anyone could blink.

  By the time DJ got there, Lindy had the twin who’d taken a header off the bleachers cuddled in her arms, a gentle hand smoothing back hair already slick with blood.

  “There now,” she murmured, rocking him at the same time. “You’ll be okay.”

  When Robert tried to take Bobby into his own arms, the little guy clung to Lindy.

  Joe put a folded handkerchief on the streaming cut and held it in place, in spite of Bobby’s turning away. “Robert, go get some ice. Don’t worry, son, head wounds always bleed like crazy. He’s all right—or will be once we get this stitched up.”

  Robert did as he was told, and DJ put her arms around Billy, who was crying just as hard. “Hey, you’re not hurt.”

  Lindy carried the now hiccuping twin to the bleachers and sat with him on her lap. Blood stained her silk blouse and pants. She had a smear of blood across her cheek and more on her hands. When the ice came, she put the Ziploc bag against the wound and held it in place with her other hand.

  DJ and Gran swapped grins. This was the woman who thought she couldn’t be a mother?

  “I knew she had it in her all along.” Gran wrapped an arm around DJ’s waist, patting the twins’ legs in the same motion. Both twins had taken the same position, legs wrapped around the Randall who held them, cheeks into chests and arms around necks.

  Later when DJ returned to the horse line, she thought about the look Robert had given Lindy and her charge as they’d gotten into his car to go to the emergency room. Gooey looks for sure.

  The next night, after the entire show was finished and the horses were all back in their proper stalls, the family gathered at Gran and Joe’s for dinner. Bobby proudly showed everyone his five black-thread stitches.

  Billy moped around, his lower lip stuck out.

  “Come here, B, I have a surprise for you.” DJ took his hand and led him into Gran’s studio. She set him up on the table and picked up a drawing pencil. With deft strokes, she drew lines in the same spot as Bobby’s.

  He giggled.

  “Now, let’s check that out.” She carried him into the bathroom so he could see himself in the mirror.

  “I gots stitches, too.” He smacked a kiss on her cheek. She set him down, and he dashed off announcing the change as he ran.

  The look Robert gave her made DJ feel warm inside. It had been such a little thing. But then, little things were important to kids. She ought to know.

  She strolled back into the living room and looked over at her mother. Lindy was just reaching up to hand Robert something. The diamond ring twinkled on her left hand.

  DJ crossed the room and leaned over the back of her mother’s chair. “So, is there something you need to tell all of us?”

  “I wanted to tell you first.” Lindy looked up over her shoulder. “Is it okay?”

  “Fine with me. But what about being scared?”

  “I learned that thinking about something that’s coming is always worse than the actual event. With God’s grace and a lot of love, I think we’ll make it.”

  “Me too.” DJ took her mother’s hand. “Oh, and I better get a plan started if we’re going to have a wedding.”

  She looked up to catch the twinkle in her grandmother’s eyes and the slight shake of the white-crowned head. That’s right, Gran, no more plans. At least not for other people. Let them make their own. She made an O with her thumb and forefinger and showed it to Gran.

  Gran smiled and nodded.

  But, then again, maybe just a teeny little plan.

  To Angie Ingalsbe,

  my friend and encourager.

  Someday I’ll be reading your books

  starring horses and kids.

  CHAPTER • 1

  Even in California, winter can be cold and wet.

  DJ Randall sneezed, tempted to wipe her nose on her sleeve. Why hadn’t she tho
ught to bring a tissue? It would be nice if she could warm her frozen hands in her pockets, but that was tough to do when your horse’s reins required two hands. Of course, it helped if the hands weren’t shaking.

  She glanced around to see if anyone was watching and quickly swiped her sleeve under her nose.

  “Gross.”

  “Where’d you come from?”

  “I was hiding behind the posts. What do you think?” Amy Yamamoto, DJ’s best friend for all of their fourteen years, reined her gelding, Josh, next to Major. Tall DJ on the rangy bay and petite Amy on her compact sorrel kept alive the Mutt and Jeff nickname the two had earned.

  Amy dug a tissue out of her jacket pocket. “Here.”

  “You’re just like my mother.”

  “Hey, dweeb, you need a mother. How come we’re working horses in the rain instead of home making fudge or something?”

  “Popcorn sounds good.”

  “Fudge is better. Right now anything chocolate would be better.” Amy played turtle in her collar to stop the drips from her helmet from running down her neck. “Make that hot chocolate.”

  “It’s not raining now.” DJ glanced up at the dark gray sky hanging one story off the ground. A fat raindrop splattered in her eye. “So I was wrong. I’m going in—got more horses to groom.”

  “Lucky.”

  DJ signaled her Morgan-Thoroughbred, Major, to trot and circle the arena again. “Come on, fella, let’s get this right so we can quit.” She’d been working on rhythm to stride so that they would be more controlled in approaching jumps. She’d rather jump any day than work the flat, but today the outside jumping arena would be slippery, so flat work it was.

  Flat is what DJ felt. Flat and wet. She gritted her teeth, ignored a shiver, and kept the beat of the trot. Major wanted to go to the barn as badly as she did. He snorted and picked up the pace every time they neared the gate.