The look on her mother’s face turned from puzzled to purple. “DJ, this isn’t your wedding. I can’t believe you’d be so selfish as to . . . to—” Lindy cut off the thought as she shoved her chair back from the table and went to stand by the window overlooking Gran’s roses, her back to them.
DJ sank in her chair, guilt smacking her upside the head. Good going, DJ. You’ve really messed things up now!
CHAPTER • 3
“You know, DJ Randall, if you’d learn to keep your mouth shut, you’d do a lot better.”
The face in the mirror, mouth foamed in toothpaste, grimaced but didn’t answer.
DJ waved a blue toothbrush for emphasis. “If you want your mother to do something for you, it’d help if you’d first do what she wants.” She shook her head. Not only was there a pin-slim chance of her going to her father’s horse ranch for the three-day weekend, she was still booked for a dress-fitting and shoe-buying trip. Who cared if the shoes matched, for crying out loud?
She jabbed her toothbrush at the face in the mirror. “Now what would really look good walking down that aisle would be my jumping boots. I bet no one would notice them under my stupid dress.” She snorted, and a gob of toothpaste hit the mirror. Several others decorated the faucet.
She spit and rinsed her mouth. When would she learn to think before spouting off? The hurt look in her mother’s eyes still hung before her face. Even when DJ closed her eyes she could see it—only more clearly. Of course she would wear whatever dress her mother picked out for her. After all, Lindy would only get married once.
DJ thumped her fists on the countertop. “When will I get my act together?” She rinsed her toothbrush, then the sink. Glaring once more at the face in the mirror, she dried her hands and headed for bed.
But even after her prayers, sleep wouldn’t come. Finally, she threw back the covers and padded down the hall to her mother’s bedroom door. “Mom?” DJ tapped softly. If her mother was asleep, waking her wouldn’t be too helpful, either.
“Come in.” The tone of Lindy’s voice pierced DJ to the core.
Her mother stood in front of the window, back to the door. She didn’t turn.
“Mom, I’m sorry. Please forgive me for being such a selfish brat. I’ll wear anything you want me to—dyed shoes, even a hat and gloves.” Please, Mom, please turn around. Say everything’s okay.
The silence stretched till DJ felt like a rubber band about to snap.
Lindy rubbed her forehead, a sure sign a migraine was brewing.
Lord, please. DJ could think of no other words. Please help me.
Lindy turned, her face shadowed since only the small lamp by the bed was on. “Darla Jean, I want this wedding to be really special for everyone. I know I get carried away sometimes, and I forget to communicate, to fill people in. But you have to do what I tell you. I’m your mother.”
DJ nodded. “I know.” Please say you forgive me. She clasped her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t pick nervously at her cuticles. “I’m sorry.”
Lindy shook her head. “Maybe this wedding, this marriage, really isn’t meant to be.”
“Oh, Mom! Don’t say that. You’re in love with Robert—anyone can see that. And he loves you. For pete’s sake, don’t quit now.” DJ crossed the space separating them. “Not because of me. Please.”
Her throat closed.
“It isn’t just you. It’s me.” Lindy tucked a strand of sleek hair behind her ear. She shook her head. “Well, this is my worry, not yours. I have a lot to think about.” She straightened her shoulders, and her sigh sounded like it came from the soles of her feet.
DJ shifted from one foot to the other. She still hadn’t been forgiven.
“How can I help you? I mean . . .”
Lindy shook her head again, her hair swinging across her cheek. “Just be patient with me.” She reached out, and DJ stepped willingly into her mother’s arms. As they shared a hug, Lindy whispered, “And, DJ, I forgive you. All these years, we’ve been more like sisters, with Gran acting as our mother. So forgive me when I forget I’m the parent now, will you?”
DJ swallowed hard, but the lump stuck. “I . . . I will—I mean, I do.” She swallowed again and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Gran says we need to learn to pray together.”
Where had those words come from? DJ started to pull away, but her mother’s arms held firm.
“I’m working on praying myself first. Guess I finally met something too big for me to handle on my own.”
DJ wished Gran could hear those words. She’d been praying for her daughter all through the years—and for DJ, too.
The silence between mother and daughter now felt like a warm blanket. DJ took a deep breath, her mother’s perfume filling her nose. “You always smell so good.” The whisper didn’t disturb the blanket a bit.
“Thanks, at least I get the image right. That has always been so important to me.” She shook her head. “But I get the feeling that succeeding in business isn’t the most important thing in my life now.” Lindy stepped back and cupped her hand around DJ’s jaw. “You are far more important to me than beating a sales goal or finishing school.”
“And Robert?”
“Definitely Robert, too. Along with two busy, funny, loving little boys.” She kissed DJ’s cheek. “Good night. You get some sleep now.”
“Night, Mom.” DJ left the room with the warm blanket of love still snuggled securely around her shoulders.
“Your father called again,” Lindy said when DJ got home from an evening meeting at the Academy two nights later.
DJ searched her mother’s face for the tense lines that usually arrived with such a phone call, but her mother looked relaxed. Was that a smile lurking in her eyes?
“Yeah?” DJ hoped against hope that everything was going to work out.
“He asked if you could spend the weekend up at the ranch . . . and I said yes.”
DJ flew across the kitchen and into her mother’s arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“I take it this is something you’d like to do?” The raised eyebrow meant her mother was teasing—as if DJ hadn’t picked up on that already.
“Only this much.” DJ spread her arms wide. She turned her head to look at her mother out of the corner of her eye. “But why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you being so nice about this? I mean, I know you don’t really want me to go.”
“You remember how agreeable you were last night, with no smart remarks about the dress or shoes? And when the woman doing the fitting said you’d need to return to try the dress on you didn’t even moan. That’s why.”
DJ nodded. How could she forget, with the still-sore tooth marks on her tongue from keeping her mouth shut? Much against her principles, she admitted, “We did have fun, huh?”
Instead of Robert driving DJ, Gran had picked her up and been there, too. Since Gran was working under another deadline, she didn’t have time to sew her own dress, let alone DJ’s. The three of them had gone out to dinner at DJ’s favorite Italian restaurant, something they hadn’t done together for a long time. Her mother had seemed like a new person. Never once did she suggest they needed to hurry home because she had to work on her thesis.
“Brad said he’d be here for you Friday about noon, so you can get your chores done both here and at the barn first. You don’t have any lessons to give on Saturday?”
DJ shook her head. “Bridget decided that since so many parents might take advantage of the three-day weekend, we wouldn’t have lessons.” She had thought to spend extra time with Major, but she knew Joe would take over for her. “You’re sure you don’t mind if I go up to Brad’s?” DJ cocked her head to one side, studying her mother. Where had the lines on her forehead gone? And the tight jaw?
Lindy shook her head, then halfway shrugged and raised her eyebrows. “Okay, that’s a fib. I do mind. I’d rather you stayed home.” She took in a deep breath, nodding slightly as she released it. “
But Brad is your biological father, and as Robert pointed out, the man should have a chance to get to know the neat kid he created.”
DJ nibbled on her lower lip. “Thanks, Mom.” She thought a moment, then decided to add a question that had been bugging her. “You ever sorry you didn’t marry him?”
Lindy shook her head again. “We were too young, too caught up in ourselves. And now,” she paused, “now, if he’s as different a person as I am from when we were young, we’d never get along. Besides, can you see me helping to run a horse ranch?”
DJ laughed along with her mother. One thing for sure, Lindy Randall was not a horsewoman. Other than riding a horse once as a teenager, she preferred to view them from the edge of the arena.
“You might like riding if you tried it.”
“That’s what Robert says.”
“I know. And don’t forget that he promised the twins ponies as soon as we move into the new house.” DJ clasped her hands around a raised knee, deciding to take advantage of this time while they were actually getting along. “You ever think what it’s going to be like, living in that house all together?”
“Living in that house doesn’t scare me half as much as all of us in this one, even for a month.”
“Who’s going to take care of the twins between school and when you get home?”
“Gran and Joe said they would. The boys’ nanny will take a vacation until the new house is ready, then move in with us.” Lindy leaned forward and patted DJ on the knee. “That will make your life easier, too, you know. She does housework and even cooks.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” DJ could feel a grin spread from her heart to her face. “I won’t have to start dinner.” The grin grew bigger. “I can spend more time with Major.” She slapped her knees. “Yes!”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
DJ looked up to catch the teasing light in her mother’s eyes, a light she was just getting to know. If only we could always talk like this. DJ wrapped her arms around her knees again and rocked back. “It will be super strange to be part of a family with a dad and brothers and all. Better say good-bye to peace and quiet with the Bs around all the time.”
Now it was Lindy’s turn to clasp her knees. She rested her chin on one knee and looked at DJ from under her eyebrows. “We’ve got a lot of changes ahead of us.” The silence fell softly between the two of them as they sat in the dimness.
“You think we’ll be ready for them? The changes, I mean?”
“Well, one thing I learned in my thirty-some years of life: Changes don’t wait until you are ready. They just come.” Lindy reached out a perfectly manicured hand to tousle DJ’s hair. “You better get to bed, love. Morning always comes too soon.”
DJ kissed her mother on the cheek and headed for the door. She stopped just before stepping into the hall. “You told Brad I could come?”
Lindy nodded. “He said for you to call him in the morning. Leave a message for me on the machine so I know what’s going on.”
“I will. Night, Mom.”
DJ rushed through brushing her teeth and washing her face. Sure enough, another zit. Would she ever get lucky and find a flawless face smiling back at her? She dug the anti-zit cream out of the medicine cabinet and applied it to the red spot, making a face at the girl in the mirror. The temptation to pop the thing made her fingers itch. She inspected the spot again. Not ready for popping. She could hear her mother’s frequent lectures on popping zits as clearly as if she stood right behind her. DJ sighed, spun around, and headed for her bedroom. Studies called, but her bed screamed for attention.
Her final thought floated heavenward. Please, God, keep it from raining tomorrow. Friday! Her father would be there at noon to pick her up for the weekend.
While God hadn’t answered that prayer in the morning, He had answered another. For the first time since the accident, Major’s leg was cool to the touch and free of swelling. “Thank you, Father,” DJ murmured over and over as she rubbed liniment into the muscles and tendons. Major nosed her back and nibbled at her jacket.
“I know, I know. You need hugs and loves, but I’m in a hurry this morning. You know I’m not even supposed to be here, don’t you? This is Friday, a school day, normally. And I’m going home with Brad for the weekend, so you better be good for Joe, you hear?”
Major snorted and shifted his weight so he leaned into her. “Get over there, you big goof.” DJ straightened and brushed back a lock of hair his nosing had released from her ponytail. She dug the last carrot piece from her jacket pocket and presented it to him. “Now, I’m going to tie you in the aisle while I clean up your mess. Don’t go messing out there.” She tried to sound stern, but she giggled when he whiskered her cheek.
Joe laughed at them both from the next stall. “You two doing a comedy routine?” He leaned on his pitchfork. “I’ll clean the stalls later if you need some time to get ready.”
“Thanks, GJ, but I’m fine. Thanks for the ride, too—I’d have been soaked riding my bike. Wish Amy had been ready when we stopped.”
“I’m sure sleeping in for a change was welcome.” Joe stroked Major’s nose. “Let me know when you want to head home. Maybe we could do McDonald’s for breakfast. Melanie is already hard at her painting.”
It was still strange to hear someone call Gran by her given name. At the thought, DJ could see Gran in her old wing chair, open Bible on her lap and cup of steaming tea on the table beside the chair. That had been the sight that greeted DJ on her first trip down the stairs every morning for as far back as she could remember. Some mornings, she still caught herself looking for Gran, wanting the feel of Gran’s gentle hand on her hair as DJ knelt beside her knees, leaning her head into Gran’s lap.
DJ sighed at the memory. Big-time changes had zapped the Randall house in the last year. And there would only be more!
One of the biggest changes pulled up into the driveway a couple of hours later. Handsome as a movie star and with a voice as smooth as warm caramel, Brad Atwood greeted her when she answered the doorbell.
“Hi, DJ, you about ready?” A smile much like her own lighted his blue eyes and deepened the creases in his cheeks.
“Almost.” She motioned him in. “Joe said the rivers are getting high up north. You okay?”
“For now.” He shook his head, scattering droplets of rainwater from his sun-lightened hair. “If this keeps up, though, we could be in trouble. Weatherman said we would get a break this afternoon. Even showed a smiling sun on the screen.”
DJ reached inside the closet for her slicker. “I hope so. I’ll get my duffel, and we can go.”
As she headed up the stairs, he called after her. “Why don’t you bring your drawing pad? I’ve got a scene or two up there that will set your fingers to itching.”
“Okay.” DJ grabbed her portfolio and gave a last glance around her room. Everything in place, the bathroom shiny and kitchen in order to boot. Amazing how quickly she could finish her chores when she had to.
An hour later, as they drove to Santa Rosa, DJ glanced out the rain-streaked window of the Land Rover at the swollen Napa River, which had spread across the lowlands below Highway 29. The area looked suspiciously like an extension of San Francisco Bay. The Petaluma River was also edging dangerously toward the tops of the levees. Rain pounded the windshield, the wipers wapping at high speed.
CHAPTER • 4
“Oh, what a baby!”
The little filly peeked out at DJ from behind the safety of her mother. The mare’s tail acted as a screen for her foal, draping across the tiny dark muzzle and furry ears. Mother stood quietly, leaning into the hands of Brad, who was stroking her cheek.
“She sure is a cutie. And that’s her favorite position. I thought you might like to draw it.” Brad shifted to stroking the mare’s neck. “This old girl was my first mare to foal, back before I had a barn like this and could afford the stallion that sired this baby. I thought last year might be the last foal from her, but she took again. The vet
said she’s still in good shape, so we may get another.”
DJ leaned her chin on her hands on the top of the stall door. “The mare doesn’t seem to mind a stranger here.”
“No, she’s an old hand with humans, but I once saw her drive a coyote out of the field. That critter ran like he had the devil himself breathing fire on the tip of his tail.”
The filly snorted and stamped one tiny hoof.
“She thinks she’s pretty hot stuff.”
“I can tell. She should.” DJ held out a hand. The baby took a step back under the protective veil, but extended her nose, nostrils quivering.
“She’s a smart one, too. Of course, with her breeding, she should be.”
“Have you named her yet?”
“Nope, thought I’d let you do that. I wanted to give her to you, but Jackie says you will need a bigger horse for jumping, probably one with some Thoroughbred blood. Arabians are good jumpers, but they are better known for their endurance.”
DJ tried to swallow. Her dry throat ignored her command. “M-m-me?” The stutter barely got past the desert of her mouth.
“Of course, Jackie also reminded me that you’ll need an intermediate horse when you’ve grown beyond Major. We’ll have a friend watching for one in a year or two. Jackie was glad to know you’re taking dressage lessons, too. Any and all the training you can get will be a help.”
DJ finally located her voice. “Ah.” Now that’s intelligent. Come on, say what you think!
Brad turned to look at her. “You all right?”
DJ swallowed again. “I would be if you slowed down some. You can’t just go giving horses away. And . . . and . . . Major will be good for a long while and . . .”
“And what?” Brad leaned against the stall, still stroking the mare’s neck with one hand. “Darla Jean Randall, I’ve got news for you. Since I am your father, I can give you something if I want to.”
High Hurdles Page 53