Amy gently tucked the package into the glove compartment. “Hey, I forgot to tell you. My mom said I could go to your father’s farm with you, if you still want to go.”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” DJ slid her fingers up and down the seat belt crossed over her chest. She nodded. “Yeah, we’ll go. I’ll call him and make the final plans.”
Joe patted her knee. “I’m proud of you, DJ. You’ll make it.”
DJ flashed him a grin. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
While clouds crept over the hills as they saddled, DJ refused to give in. The three of them were going riding, and that was that. If they got sprinkled on, so be it. The wind picked up, and they could feel the temperature dropping as they rode up the hill and out of the Academy. Through one more gate, and they were on park land, hills now covered with the green of winter thanks to all the rain they’d had. One hillside had been so rain soaked it had given way and slid downward, leaving a bowl of exposed dirt and rumpled ridges of grass-covered dirt below. The cattle that had free range in the park ran before them as if they were being chased when they made their way down the path to the staging area, a parking lot for park visitors. During the busy park season, a ranger took fees in a small building at the entrance to the parking lot.
Since mountain-bike riders and hikers loved the trails as much as horse riders did, the park was always well used. Today, however, the parking lot was empty.
DJ nudged Major into a canter as they took the main trail under the trees and followed a creek that now held plenty of frothing water. In the summer it was only a trickle.
“Come on, GJ, doesn’t that young pony of yours know how to enjoy a real ride?”
“Just watch and you’ll see.” Joe kept a careful hand on the reins.
Ranger whinnied as the other two horses disappeared around a curve.
“I love riding right before a storm,” DJ shouted.
“Me too.” Amy kept Josh at the same even gait as they climbed the well-kept fire road trail.
DJ glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, look who’s catching up!” What fun it would be to really run, to race up the hill and across the meadow, to let Major have his head and just go.
Major snorted and tugged at the bit. He wanted the same thing.
DJ was tempted, but she kept the easy rocking-chair canter that ate up the miles. Not only was it easier on her horse, but it was safer should the trail be slippery. They rounded another corner, and she signaled a halt, this time with seat and legs instead of just pulling on the reins. Major obeyed instantly.
A washout had dug a three-foot wide and half as deep ditch across the trail. If they’d been galloping, they’d have had to jump over or stumble through it. Sloppy mud all around made footing treacherous.
DJ looked at Amy and shook her head. “Sure glad we weren’t racing.”
“Me too. That could have been a bad one.”
Ranger stopped beside them, front feet dancing while he pulled at the bit and tossed his head. Joe leaned forward and, keeping one hand snug on the reins, stroked his mount’s neck.
“Easy, fella.” He looked around. “These hills must be soaked for the runoff to be this bad. You’d think that was a regular creek. Well, guy, guess you are going to get a lesson in crossing water. Lead on, DJ. Major will be cautious, but he’ll go.”
DJ squeezed her legs, and Major, placing his feet with utmost caution, negotiated the two-foot drop, splashed in the ankle-deep water, and headed up the other side. Josh followed suit, snorting all the way.
Ranger, however, would have none of it. He snorted and backed up fast. When Joe brought him up to the water again, he let the horse put his head down and sniff.
Major nickered, as if encouraging the younger animal.
Ranger put one foot forward, then the other. Joe talked to him gently, but when the gelding put his foot into the water, he sat back on his haunches and whirled around. Had Joe not kept a firm hand on the reins, Ranger would have headed for home.
“Easy, fella,” Joe kept up the murmur as he dismounted. “Guess we’ll do it this way. You’ll have to learn someday. We should have made you go through water before—a good trail horse does all this stuff.” Joe led him down and stopped at the edge of the running stream. “Now, you could just jump over this thing if you had a mind to, but we’re going to walk it.” He pulled on the reins.
Ranger snorted and he rolled his eyes. He moved to back up, but the steady hands on his reins and Joe’s gentle voice kept him coming forward.
DJ watched the process, swapped concerned glances with Amy, and found herself praying, God, please get that fool horse through this safely.
Ranger splashed water with one foot and leaped forward. If Joe hadn’t been prepared, he’d have been run right over. The gelding now stood trembling on the other side.
Joe patted him and told him how great he was.
DJ breathed a sigh of relief. “You know, you really should make him go back and forth a couple of times to get him comfortable with it.”
“I know.” Joe grinned up at her. “Want to trade horses?”
“Not me. Just think what this would be like with Patches. I know Mrs. Johnson wants to ride up here. Soon it’ll be time for me to get him used to things like this.”
Joe led Ranger back and forth across the stream, then mounted to cross a last time and head up the trail. Ranger snorted but stepped down and through the water as though he’d never thought of charging or refusing.
“Good boy,” Joe said, stroking the horse’s neck and grinning at DJ and Amy. “Well, we had our excitement for the day, wouldn’t you say?”
“He’s going to be a good horse,” DJ said, a smile now chasing the worry away. “I thought maybe that was the end of our ride.”
“Nah, I knew he’d do it.”
“Just not when, right?” Amy patted Josh’s neck. “I remember the first creek he crossed. He wasn’t a happy camper.”
When they crested the trail and reached the meadow, low clouds cottoned the hilltops and sent tendrils exploring the valleys. Off to the right, the river flowing through the Carquinez Straits lay molten gray. The smokestacks of the refineries in Martinez puffed steam clouds that plumed due east, and the trees above them whipped in the wind, small limbs and dead leaves scurrying before the onslaught.
The air hung heavy with the promise of rain.
DJ sucked in a deep breath and turned to grin at Amy. “Don’t ya love it?”
“It’s going to get wet out here pretty soon. Think we better turn back?” Joe stopped beside them.
“We should, but let’s ride up to the saddle where the bluebird houses are. I hate to turn back.”
When the others agreed, DJ nudged Major back into a canter and they followed the road around the curve and up the hill. Cattle grazed the slopes and watered at the pond that now looked like a small lake. She wanted to keep going, down into the valley and around the other hills. Even with all the riding she’d done in the park, she’d never followed all the trails. There was never enough time.
Reluctantly, DJ turned back. Soon, she promised herself. Soon she’d follow that trail around the north side of the hills, the one that didn’t look as well used as the others.
They were drenched by the time they made their way back into the stable yard.
Back at Gran and Joe’s after DJ had taken a shower to warm up, she and Joe finished the last of the framing and Gran helped her assemble the book for the twins.
“That’s it, then,” DJ sighed when she tied the last bow on the packages. “My Christmas presents are finished.”
“And none too soon, with Christmas Eve tomorrow night.” Gran set a plate of cookies on the table. “Try these and see if we should make more of them. I made up a plate of goodies for you to take to the Yamamotos. You want to drop it off on your way home?”
“Sure.” DJ grinned around a mouthful of cookie. “You better start mixing, Robert’s gonna clean these out.” She plucked a
chocolate kiss off the top of the round peanut butter cookie. “How come we never made these before?”
“I didn’t have the recipe before.” Gran poured coffee for her and Joe and set a mug of hot chocolate in front of DJ. “You want a drop of coffee in that?”
“Mocha? You bet.” DJ took a swallow. “Thanks, Gran, you’re the best.”
“After Christmas we’ll have to invite Shawna to stay over.” Joe leaned back in his chair. Shawna, who dreamed of taking riding lessons someday, was the only daughter of Joe’s son Andy.
As he proceeded to impress Gran with tales of their ride, DJ felt locked on the words “after Christmas.” After Christmas—next week to be exact—she would be going to her father’s house for the first time. Three days away from Major, and three days with a man she hardly knew. Could she stand it?
CHAPTER • 15
Having lots of relatives sure made a difference at Christmastime.
Early in the afternoon, DJ gave Major his gift—extra horse cookies and a new halter. She gave Patches a treat and then went to see Bandit and Megs. The mare greeted her like a long-lost friend, making DJ feel guilty for not paying the retired jumper more attention since she got her own horse. She’d begun jumping lessons on Megs, Bridget’s show horse of many years.
“See you tomorrow,” she told Bandit. “You’ll have plenty of kids to entertain.” Bandit snuffled in DJ’s pocket for more treats and was rewarded with a carrot piece. “You’re too smart for your own good.” She gave him an extra pat, and after making sure Major had fresh water and hay and had finished his grain, she trotted out to ride her bike home. Sun peeked through the patchy clouds, and while the weather announcers said storms were lining up out on the Pacific, tomorrow was supposed to be nice.
Since Amy and her family had already left for the weekend to visit her grandparents, DJ rode alone. Joe had offered her a ride, but as he and Gran were hosting everyone for dinner, she’d done his chores at the Academy, too. Tonight would be like Thanksgiving had been—one long slumber party.
“Hurry up or we’ll be late,” Lindy called from her bathroom as soon as DJ mounted the stairs.
“I’m hurrying.” DJ draped her horsy jeans and shirt over the back of a chair. They weren’t dirty, just full of horse hair and stuff. She’d wear them for chores in the morning. Honestly, if her mother had her way, the smell of horses would never pass the kitchen door. What was going to happen at their new house when the twins had ponies and she had Major? How would her mother stand it?
DJ climbed into the shower. Thoughts like that always gave her the shivers. Life had changed so much already, and as far as she could see, it was changing big time in the months ahead.
Her mother gave her a didn’t-you-have-something-nicer-to-wear-than-that look when they met downstairs. DJ shrugged. Compared to her mother, she looked casual. But at least she wasn’t wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She had on navy corduroy pants and a real shirt with buttons up the front. She’d even ironed it. If she could have found a belt, the outfit would have looked more put together, but she was running late. As usual, the look from her mother said.
DJ picked up the last box of presents and followed her mother out to the car. They’d already taken over most of the wrapped packages, including the big one from her father, the day before. Once in the car, DJ thought again about the big box. More than once, she’d been tempted to open it very carefully, peek in, and wrap it back up.
She glanced at her mother. What would she have done if she caught her daughter sneaking a peek at Christmas presents? DJ grinned. It wasn’t worth the chance of being found out, so she’d left well enough alone. Whatever it was sure felt heavy when she shook it—accidentally, of course.
Every light in Gran and Joe’s house was on, and the outside looked like a fairyland with small white lights around the windows, doors, trees, and along the roof peak. DJ had helped Joe and Robert put them up two weeks earlier.
“Isn’t it lovely?” Lindy breathed. “Robert said next year we are going to do our house.” She leaned on the steering wheel. “You know, we haven’t put up outside lights since Grandpa died. Do you remember the way he used to decorate?”
DJ shook her head. “I was just a twerp, Mom. The only thing I remember was that the tree was always in the living room corner.” She gathered the shopping bags and presents and opened the car door. Gran had carols playing on an outside speaker.
“O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining . . .”
DJ looked up. The carol was right.
They were the last to arrive. Andy and Sonya with daughter, Shawna, greeted them in the doorway and led the way to stack the remaining presents under the tree, now nearly hidden by gaily wrapped packages.
After dinner at warp speed, the entire family trooped off to the Christmas Eve service. This year, they hadn’t waited for the midnight service because of the younger children. They all accepted their white candle with its cardboard shield at the door, and with one twin on each side, DJ followed Robert into the pew. The church glowed with candlelight, and the organ swelled with the age-old carols.
DJ breathed in the scent of evergreens, shushed the boys, and closed her eyes for just a moment. This was her favorite service of the year. A hush fell as if the entire roomful of people stopped breathing at the same instant.
A violin sang the opening bars of “What Child Is This?” joined by a flute and finally the piano. Times like this, DJ wished she’d taken time to learn to play an instrument. She could feel the music tugging at her throat, making the backs of her eyes burn. The words crescendoed in her mind: “This, this is Christ the King . . .”
She put an arm around each of the twins and hugged them to her.
As the verses told the story of the Christ child’s birth, she thought of the shepherds, smelled the hay in the stable, and imagined a cow lowing. It was easy to be there in her mind. Her fingers itched to draw the scene.
“Come, see where He lay,” the pastor announced from the pulpit. “He came for you and for me, giving up all His godly powers—He who was at the beginning of creation. Think of it! He did this for you, for me, for all people. Think what it would be like if you left all your human qualities and took on being a grasshopper. He who brought us into being gave up being God—for us.”
DJ leaned forward, elbows on her knees. Bobby and Billy did the same.
“He loves us that much.”
She flashed a glance at her mother, sitting on the other side of Robert. Were those tears shimmering in her eyes? The burning behind her own eyes grew more insistent.
“No matter what we do, no matter how hard we try to run away, even when we try to ignore Him, He loves us.”
At the end of the sermon, when everyone stood for the hymn, DJ felt like hugging everyone who stood around her. The choir sang during the offering, then the lights dimmed. The altar candles were extinguished, and the tree darkened.
The pastor walked down to stand directly in front of the congregation, a tall, thick candle in the hands of one of the teenagers beside him. “We read from the first chapter of the gospel of John, ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. . . . In him was life, and that life was the light of men.’ ”
Two more teens came forward, lit their candles at the pastor’s, and one by one the light moved down the center aisle and then out into the rows. “Silent night, holy night . . .” When each person had lit a candle, then he could begin singing.
The boys fidgeted beside DJ. When the candle came to their row, DJ watched as each member of her family lit a candle from the one beside. The Bs bounced in their excitement. Gran held her candle steady and the first twin dipped his, oohing at the light he now held. DJ lit hers, sharing her flame with the second twin, who shared his with Robert.
DJ felt an uneasy flutter in her stomach as the sea of flames around her grew. She took a deep breath. Both boys proudly held their candles up to her face to show her the fla
mes. A fist seemed to grab her throat as hot wax dripped onto her hand. Fire! She felt the familiar fear take hold. Was someone screaming?
CHAPTER • 16
“DJ, you all right?”
“Please, DJ!”
The boys’ cries sounded as if they were a mile away.
“I . . . I’m fine.” DJ blinked and took a deep breath. Robert held her hands in his, and Gran wrapped her arm around her granddaughter’s shoulders. “Wh-what h-happened?”
“The fire, darlin’. You know how the memories can affect you. I suppose all the candles . . .” Gran’s whisper in her ear brought DJ back to the moment. What had she done? Gone all kooky again? How embarrassing.
DJ looked to see tears pooling in the big blue eyes of the Double Bs. “Hey, guys, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just me . . . and . . . and fire. We don’t get along too well.” She forced the words past the desert in her throat. All around them, people were extinguishing their candles as the lights came back up. The pastor gave the blessing, and the organ broke into “Joy to the World.”
DJ stood with the rest of them. She rubbed the wax off her wrist and covered the scar in the middle of her palm with the other hand. All because of a couple silly little candles. What kind of a weirdo am I?
The boys glued themselves to her side, shooting her anxious looks when they thought she wasn’t looking. On the ride back to Gran’s, the conversation flowed around her as though she were a rock in the middle of the stream. And like a rock, she had no voice—except inside her head, where several voices argued about how stupid she was. She rubbed the scar again as if the action would bring back the memory. One day she would have to ask Gran again how it had all happened.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” Gran said, pulling DJ close as they walked up the sidewalk to the house. The luminaries they’d made out of brown sacks with a candle and sand in them lit the way.
“I spoiled the service for everyone.”
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