She nodded, and Brad set the fifth jump higher than she had ever jumped.
They cantered forward, Herndon’s ears forward, joy in his every step. They cleared the first four with space to spare. DJ felt like she was part of a flying machine.
“Okay, fella, let’s do this one, too.”
They cantered toward the jump with three poles, the bottom two in an X-crossed pattern below the top one. DJ leaned forward, but Herndon swerved to the right.
DJ went airborne.
CHAPTER • 5
DJ could feel something warm and sticky running down the left side of her face.
“DJ, are you all right?” Brad reached her as she gingerly sat up. “Oh my word—you’re bleeding!”
DJ raised a hand to her cheek and came away with blood on her glove. “Other than this scratch, I’m fine, I think.” She wiggled her toes, flexed her knees and ankles, and put a hand back on the ground to lever herself up. She looked up into her father’s face. If she was as white as he, she must look a sight. Red blood, white skin. Oh, great. Just great!
“Thank God for helmets,” Jackie said as she knelt by DJ’s side. “You must have hit the base of the standard.” She reached over her shoulder for the folded handkerchief Brad handed to her. “Let’s get this on that cut before you bleed to death.” Her smile reassured DJ that bleeding to death wasn’t really an option.
If all the heat in her face originated with the cut, that would be fine. But feeling like an idiot usually brought its own hot skin. What a dumb thing to do—let Herndon dump her just because he didn’t want to jump the fence. She’d ridden other horses who had refused a jump. You had to be ready, that’s all. “Where’s Herndon? Is he all right?”
“That fool horse is fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Brad knelt at her other side.
“I shoulda been paying better attention. To let him dump me like that . . .” She shook her head.
“DJ, falls happen to the best riders. Hitting the ground goes with the territory.” Jackie pressed harder on the pad.
“I know, but . . .” DJ kept herself from flinching away. The cut was beginning to burn.
“No buts.” Brad extended a hand to pull her to her feet. “Let’s go get that cleaned up and see if you need a couple of stitches.”
“Stitches!” DJ could feel her mouth drop open. “I won’t need stitches.” She looked at Jackie. “Will I?” Her voice squeaked. The wedding! Would her face heal in time for the wedding, now only three weeks away? “Mom’s going to kill me.”
“Why? She should be glad you’re not hurt any worse.” Brad still wore a white ring around his mouth. “Thank God you aren’t hurt any worse. Or are you? Can you walk? How’s your shoulder? I should never have raised the jumps that last time. It’s all my fault.”
“Huh? What’s this fault garbage? I took a header, that’s all. It wasn’t my first, and I’ll bet anything it won’t be my last.”
Jackie smiled up at her husband. “Listen to your daughter, dear. In spite of getting clobbered by Herndon, she has her head on straight.” She turned back to DJ. “Come on, let’s see if anything else hurts. You’ll most likely get a black eye from this, too, since it’s right on the cheekbone.”
DJ groaned again.
“You hurt somewhere else?” Brad stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“No, but I probably will hurt in all kinds of places tomorrow. Can you just see a wedding where the bridesmaid has a black eye?”
“Oh no.” Now it was Brad’s turn to groan. “I forgot all about the wedding.” Brad turned from them at the arena gate. “You take her on up to the house, Jackie, and I’ll put the horses away.”
“I should make Herndon go back and take that fence.” DJ started to turn back.
“I don’t think so.” Brad shook his head. “You some kind of masochist?”
“No, she’s just like her father—thinking of the horse before herself.” Jackie took DJ’s arm, as if to keep her from turning back. “Come on, DJ, let’s see what we have here. See you in a few minutes, Brad.”
The warmth from the Land Rover’s powerful heater felt good since the sky had reverted to gray while they played in the arena. DJ shivered a bit and caught herself before she called herself any names. She could hear Bridget’s voice reminding her to let it go. Don’t beat yourself or your horse. How many times had she heard that bit of wisdom?
“I think we better take you in to the urgent care clinic up in Santa Rosa.” Jackie tilted the light in the bathroom so she could see better. “That cut looks deep and long enough that a butterfly bandage might leave you with more of a scar than stitches would.”
DJ groaned. “I hate going to doctors. They take forever.”
“I know. But your father will feel better about it. So will I.” She handed DJ a sterile pad. “Hold this in place while I get some ice. Let’s get that swelling down, if we can.” When she returned with ice in a zipped plastic bag, DJ applied that to the pad.
“I’m going to call the clinic and tell them we’re coming.”
“How long since you’ve had a tetanus shot?” the doctor asked as he examined the cut.
DJ shrugged. “I don’t know. Can’t remember when.”
“Why don’t you call her mother and ask?” the doctor said to Jackie.
“Can’t you just give me one? My mom gets kinda uptight about stuff like this.”
“It’s better to check.” He turned and gave instructions to the nurse.
As Jackie started to leave, DJ said, “Call Gran instead. She’s the one who kept track of stuff like this. And please ask her not to tell Mom. Beg if you have to. Telling Mom now would ruin everything.”
“I’ll try.” Jackie wiggled her fingers as she went out the door.
“You want to tough this out, or would you rather have a bit of Novocain?” The doctor looked at her over the tops of his half glasses.
“How bad will the stitches hurt?” While she didn’t mind giving shots to a horse, needles puncturing her own hide had never been a real favorite of hers. Not even close.
“I think the shot hurts as bad as the stitches, but that’s only my opinion.”
“No shot then,” DJ said, eyeing the needle. The last time she’d had stitches was when she’d fallen out of a tree, years ago now. She’d ripped her knee on the branch that had cracked on the way down, but at least she hadn’t broken any bones. Gran always said DJ had fallen on a guardian angel. She even claimed she’d heard an extra oof when DJ hit the ground.
“Ready?” The doctor smiled at her.
DJ nodded. This time she wouldn’t be able to watch.
She told herself to relax when she lay against the pillow. She felt the nurse’s hands cupping her head to keep her from jerking away.
Jackie reentered the room just before the doctor began. “Her grandmother says it’s been five years since her last tetanus shot. And, DJ, she promised to let you do the talking when you get home.”
DJ started to nod, then stopped. “Good.”
Within minutes, she was stitched, bandaged, inoculated, and walking out the door. Brad leaped to his feet in the waiting room. “You okay?” At DJ’s nod, he turned to Jackie. “They stitched it?”
“Yes, worrying father, and your daughter is a trooper. Stitches without Novocain even.”
“Stitches, as in with a needle?” At DJ’s nod, he continued. “And you didn’t faint?”
“Faint?” She changed from a grin to a straight face when the bandage crinkled. “Ouch.”
“Don’t mind your father. He faints when a needle gets near him.”
“Not quite. Only when it pokes me. I just get dizzy before that.” He reached a gentle hand to touch the bandage. “I’m so sorry, DJ.”
DJ rolled her eyes and made Jackie laugh. Rather, she rolled one eye. The left one was now swollen halfway shut.
Once in the Land Rover, DJ leaned back and put the ice pack back on her face.
“The seat tilts,” Jackie said. “And rememb
er, the doctor gave you some pain pills in case it starts hurting too badly. You don’t need to tough it out—the body heals faster when it isn’t fighting pain, too.”
“It hurts, but let’s try some Tylenol first. I hate that fuzzy feeling from pain-killers.”
They stopped at a convenience store and bought her a bottle of water to take the Tylenol with, so by the time they got back to the ranch, DJ was feeling pretty good again. But when she suggested she would like to go back to the arena and make Herndon take the jump, Brad looked at her as if she’d cracked her mind in the fall.
“I don’t think so.” He looked to Jackie as if for support. She just shrugged. “Maybe you better lay down for a while.”
DJ returned his cracked-mind look. She knew how to raise her eyebrows in just the same way he did, but she’d never dreamed that it was a trait she’d gotten from her father.
“Okay, how about coming with me to check on the mares? You could try out some names for the baby.”
DJ turned to Jackie. “I could help you with dinner if you like.”
“Thanks, sweetie, but I already made soup. You go with your dad and have a good time.”
It was the first time in her life someone had called her “sweetie,” but DJ didn’t mind a bit. From Jackie, it sounded just right. She followed her dad out to the truck, trying to duck between the raindrops since she had left her slicker down at the barn. “Do you always drive back and forth?” she asked when he had the truck in motion.
“Pretty much. Unless it’s really a nice day and I’m not in a hurry. Those days come few and far between, I’m afraid.”
“What is your work like?” She turned so she could see him better out of her one good eye.
“Not like what you see on television or the movies. Most legal work involves tons of reading, writing, and talking on the phone with clients. Since I’m not a trial attorney, I don’t spend a lot of time in court. I have some really sharp associates for that end of the business. They like the spotlight, and I like having a life besides the law.” He motioned to the farm around them. “If I could, I’d retire tomorrow and go full time into horse breeding.”
“You can’t?”
“Nope, I keep my practice going to support my horse habit. Since the bottom fell out of Arabian breeding, it’s hard to get ahead. Plus, we like to show, and Jackie is serious about wanting to compete on the Grand Prix level. International shows take a lot of time and money.”
“Local shows are bad enough.” DJ leaned back against the seat. “Mom always said having a horse was too much for our budget. Thing is, she’s right. If I didn’t work for Major’s board and then some, I couldn’t keep him.”
“DJ, are you short on money?”
“No. Why?” She thought back to what she’d said. “Oh no, don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t mean—I mean—” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I like working at the Academy, even mucking stalls when I have to. I like training Patches and will take on another when he is ready to leave me. Sure, vet bills are spendy and shoeing costs more than I’d like, but that’s part of owning a horse. Major is my responsibility.”
“And you’re a responsible person?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“I can tell. You make me so proud I could pop.” He clasped his hands along the top of the steering wheel and turned his head to look at her. “Take today, for example—the way you handled the fall and getting stitched up—not to mention your riding ability, the wonderful way you draw, your sense of humor.” He gave her a smile that showed his feelings of pride and love. “Your mother has done a fine job with you.”
“Gran did most of the work.” DJ immediately wished she’d kept her mouth shut. The comment bordered on being less than nice.
“Well, then I can thank Melanie, too. She always was a woman of wisdom.”
DJ picked at a cuticle. When her courage grew strong enough, she said, “Can I ask you a question? One that’s been eating at me?”
He nodded. “Ask away, and I’ll answer if I can.”
DJ kept her gaze on his face. “Why did you never write or call me?”
Silence swelled in the truck cab, the rain on the roof sounding like a drum roll.
DJ wished she had kept her mouth shut.
Brad nodded slightly. “I could give you all kinds of reasons, most of them valid, but the bottom line is I was chicken. I had bowed out of your life, and I was afraid Lindy hated me and had made you hate me, too.”
“Mom never said a word about you—ever. Once or twice I wondered, but since I was happy, I figured I didn’t need a dad—not when I had Gran and Gramps and Mom. Even after Gramps died . . . our little family felt like enough. I sure missed Gramps, though—for a long time.” DJ spoke slowly and softly, exploring the ideas herself as she shared them with her father.
“I missed out on a lot.”
“Gran says everything happens in God’s timing.”
“Yes, I’m sure she does. Melanie always did have a strong faith. She’s an example to all of us. No way I’d hear such talk from my family.”
“But you believe now?”
“Thanks to Jackie. Still, I might never have contacted you if we had been able to have children. Maybe this is God’s way, after all.” He reached out and stroked a gentle finger down the curve of her cheek. “I am just so eternally grateful that I know you now. ‘If onlys’ aren’t worth the time it takes to think about them.” He patted her hand. “Any more questions?”
“One more?”
“Shoot.”
“What do I call you? Before long, I’m going to have two dads or whatever, and I don’t know what to call either one of you.”
“Let me think on that one, okay? Who knows, maybe you’ll come up with something that you feel comfortable with on your own. Eventually, something will work out. Just please don’t ever introduce me as Mr. Atwood.”
“I won’t.”
“And, DJ, if Lindy and Robert can handle it, I really want to be a part of your life. Jackie and I both do.”
“Things like school and stuff, too?”
“Yep. All of it. Shows, school events, birthdays. Whatever.”
“Cool.”
Together they walked into the barn and over to the only foaling stall in use at the moment. The filly darted behind her mother and peeked out just like before as the mare hung her head over the low wall to soak up the attention. When Brad obliged by scratching up behind her ears and down her cheek and neck, the mare sighed and let her eyelids close. When he stopped, she tilted her head to coax him to keep going.
DJ leaned over the gate, extending her hand to the filly.
The curious baby reached out her muzzle and leaned toward the hand. But she refused to move a foot closer.
“You should call her Elusive. Ellie for short.”
“That’s a great name. And it sure fits her temperament—at least what we’ve seen of it so far. If you want to go inside the stall and just sit in the corner, this old girl won’t mind. You’ll be able to make friends with Ellie there. I’ll finish my chores and come back for you.”
“You sure my face won’t scare her?”
“DJ!” He dug in his pocket and pulled out pieces of horse cookies. “She won’t take these yet, but I know her mother loves them.”
DJ opened the stall door very slowly and slipped inside. The filly disappeared behind her mother. The mare wandered over and lipped the cookie bits from DJ’s palm, then, munching, gave DJ the nose test. Up her arm, her hair, and finally her jacket pockets.
“You found ’em, huh?” DJ gave the mare another treat while scratching her ears. “Why don’t you tell your kid to come visit with me, too? You mind if I sit here in the corner?” As she talked, she slid her back down the wall and crossed her legs to sit comfortably. The mare lowered her head and, after sniffing some more to check out the bandage, blew horse-cookie breath in DJ’s face.
“Thanks a big fat bunch.” DJ wiped away a bit of slobber. While she paid attenti
on to the mare, she kept her eye on the baby, who hid behind her mother’s tail again, peeking out from the veil.
“Curiouser and curiouser, aren’t you?” At the low, singsong hum of DJ’s voice, the baby ears flicked back and forth. One step at a time, she edged around her dam until she was standing clear, a strand of the mare’s long tail still caught on one fuzzy ear. DJ kept herself from laughing out loud only through sheer effort of will.
“Such a charmer, you are. How could anyone resist you? How can you keep from coming over here to see what is pleasing your mom so much?” The mare stood, eyes at half-mast, her nose even with DJ’s shoulder.
The filly finally stood within a foot of DJ, her body poised to flee at the slightest mismove. DJ kept playing with the mare.
When she worked her arm up to rub behind the mare’s ears, the baby reached out and sniffed DJ’s sleeve. When nothing happened, she took a step closer. The mare whuffled DJ’s hair, and DJ slipped her another treat. Loud munching filled the stall.
DJ could feel her right foot going to sleep. Soon, she would have to move. “Come on, baby, make it all the way over here. Let me touch you the way I am your mother. I promise you you’ll like it.”
Ellie sniffed DJ’s hair, then darted back one step. She reached again, brushing DJ’s hand with the whiskers on her upper lip. At last, she sighed and let DJ touch her nose. Ears pricked, eyes wide, little Miss Elusive huddled closer to her mother’s shoulder and let DJ stroke her furry cheek and under her chin.
“What a baby you are . . . so soft.” DJ wanted to shout for joy. She’d done it! She’d petted Elusive.
“You really have a way with horses, my dear,” Brad spoke softly from above her head.
The filly darted behind her mother again, so DJ pushed herself upright. Needles stabbed her awakening right foot, and she grabbed on to the stall door. “I didn’t even hear you come up.”
“You were too busy. Such patience that took. No wonder you are able to win even Patches over.”
DJ limped out the stall door when Brad swung it open. “Thanks for the treat. What a honey she is.”
High Hurdles Page 55