“She is a jerk,” said Leila.
“Yup.” Bryce looked back to where the Goodsteins had come from. Nothing but road dust was left of the truck. “Are you done blubbing?” he asked Paley. She glared at him. “Good,” he said, appraising her. “Mad is better.”
“Better than what?” Paley snapped.
“Better than wah, wah, wah, poor me.”
Now Paley was steaming. “Did you hear that lady?”
“Next time I see her, do you want me to punch her?”
Leila stopped shoveling. “Wait. What?”
Paley couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. Was Bryce trying to be nice?
He sighed like she was as dumb as a post. “I said I’ll punch her. If you want me to, that is.” He ducked his head, suddenly shy, which was the weirdest thing of all. Paley stared at him, gobsmacked. “Since she was mean to you,” he continued, still not meeting her eyes.
“Are you . . . um . . . offering to fight for me?” she asked.
Bryce avoided her gaze and went back to shoveling. “Well . . . yeah.”
Paley gaped. “Thanks. I think.”
Bryce didn’t look up. “You’re welcome.”
“But let’s not, okay?”
“Okay. I’m just saying . . . ”
Leila held up her hands like she needed to stop the world from turning. “What just happened here? Why are you always talking about beating people up?”
The wheelbarrow was full. With a grunt, Bryce hefted the handles and pushed it toward the garden, and the girls followed with the tools. Paley hoped that Leila hadn’t ticked him off, but when she caught a glimpse at his face, he wasn’t mad, just serious. “I guess because it works. No one messes with you.”
“How do you have any friends if you are threatening people all the time?” Leila asked.
“Who needs friends?”
Paley thought about her new school and her new neighborhood and all the faces of all the kids who wouldn’t even give her the time of day. “I do,” she said in a small voice.
He shrugged.
“What’s it like to hit someone?” Paley asked.
Bryce shrugged again. “Hurts your hand.”
Paley picked up the rake and started spreading manure. The wooden handle was rough on her palms. She squeezed hard, noticing the flex of bone and muscle. How would it hurt? Like breaking or bruising or crushing? Would it hurt more than the person who got hit? She had thought Bryce was a bully, a higher-order goblin warrior, armored and nearly invincible, but even he had a soft spot.
“If it hurts, why do you do it?” Leila asked.
Bryce leaned on the rake. For a minute Paley thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he said, “There were these guys in fifth grade who used to pick on me all the time. Pour glue in my desk. Pull my hair. It used to be long,” Bryce explained. He spit off to one side, looking disgusted. “All the time in the library—yank, tug, pull. I hated them.”
“What happened?”
“I got big at the end of sixth grade, I cut my hair really short, and I beat them both up. After that, no one ever bothered me again.” He wasn’t bragging. Just stating the facts. After a moment, he added, “It always helps for a second, but as soon as you do . . . as soon as you hear the crunch, you wish you could take it back.”
“Oh,” said Leila, stunned.
“Anyway, after that no one bothered me. Everyone just steered clear.”
Of course they did. When Paley thought about Prince and the horrible sound of Bryce’s hand on his velvety nose, she wanted to steer clear, too. She had wanted to have the Blue Elf chop off his head. And somehow, knowing that Bryce probably felt bad, even if he wouldn’t admit it, made everything worse.
Why couldn’t she just go back in her cave? It was easy there. No Bryce. No Goodsteins. No trouble. Paley twitched uncomfortably. If she left Quartz Creek Ranch, she would have to leave Prince. When she had worked with him by the stream, something magical had happened. The real kind. And she wanted more of it.
There was only one thing to do.
Paley took a deep breath. Queens had a certain responsibility to do the hard things. She pulled herself as straight and tall as she could, feeling the weight of a crown on her forehead. “Hey, Bryce,” she said, forcing herself to look right at him.
He shoved the rake at a pile of manure. “What?”
“You can’t hit my horse again.”
He stiffened. She saw his hands flex on the handle of the rake. He stared down his nose at her.
She stared right back, even though her legs went wobbly underneath her. “I know you wish you hadn’t done it. So I’m going to let it go this time. But never again. Okay?”
A muscle twitched at his temple. This might be the moment when she found out what it was like to take a punch. Paley fought the urge to run away.
But suddenly, the tension seemed to leave him.
He smiled at her—actually smiled—and said, “Okay. But I’m not making any promises about the Goodsteins.”
Chapter Twelve
Paley and Madison worked with Prince down by the stream for a few more days, which was fine by Paley. Getting to know Bryce, Sundee, and Leila was good, but it was also complicated. She was starting to see that everyone had some issues to work on.
At least things were getting better with Prince now that she understood it was her job to make him feel secure.
“As long as you are confident about what you want him to do,” Madison reminded her, “he’ll do anything you ask.”
“Like how he went through the fire for Mr. Bridle?” she asked.
“Exactly!” said Madison.
Sometimes Paley didn’t know what to do. When that happened, she waited, calming her breath and stroking Prince’s neck.
“There’s nothing wrong with asking him to wait,” said Madison. “You’re in charge.”
By the end of the week, Madison decided they were ready to ride.
“Are you sure?” Paley asked as they got ready in the barn one morning.
“Ask him,” said Madison, walking up to Prince with his saddle on one arm. Immediately the big horse nosed the oiled leather, and the trainer laughed. “I guess that’s your answer. Let’s tack him up.”
“I’ve already groomed him and picked his hooves,” said Paley, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.
Madison grinned at her. “No kidding! He’s so shiny I can practically see my reflection in his coat.” Paley’s face grew warm, and she stood up tall. It felt good to know how to take care of Prince, and it felt even better to have Madison notice how hard she was trying.
After they had saddled him, Madison showed her how to hold the bridle and how to ask Prince to accept the bit by holding it up to his nose with one hand and wiggling a finger into the side of his mouth.
“Go ahead,” said Madison. “Be confident.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” said Paley. “What if he bites my finger off?”
“He doesn’t have teeth back there,” the trainer explained, and sure enough, when Paley took a deep breath and stuck a finger inside his mouth, the skin was pillow soft and slobbery. Paley slid the bit into place. “Nicely done,” said Madison, helping her to get the crown piece up over his ears.
Once all the buckles were buckled, Madison dropped into an exaggerated bow and gestured toward the door to the barn. “After you, Queen Paley.”
Paley tipped her head as regally as she could manage and led Prince out of the barn toward the grove of cottonwoods by the stream. All the groundwork they had been doing together was paying off. The big horse didn’t balk once.
“I’m going to clip a longe line on him,” said Madison. “But you’re in charge. I’m here for backup only.”
She helped Paley mount and spent a few moments correcting her posture. “Sit tall. Tight stomach. A little more curve in your lower back. Heels down. Super.” Madison patted Paley’s knee. “How do you feel?”
“Afraid to move?”
Paley offered.
Madison chuckled. “You’re funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“Keep that shape in your body but relax into it a little,” Madison said, flipping her ponytail over one shoulder and moving away from Prince and Paley. “You’re going to get him moving with that same tongue click we’ve been using.”
Paley couldn’t believe how tall she was up on Prince’s back. Everything looked different. The ranch spread out below her like a blanket of green. She could practically touch the clouds.
“Look where you want to go, squeeze with your legs, and click. If he still doesn’t move, give him a nudge with your heels.”
It felt right—so very right—with the sun shining and the creek singing next to them. Paley wanted to be part of it all. She shifted her weight forward, and Prince eased into a gentle, rolling walk. A surge of exhilaration swelled in Paley’s chest.
Maybe Ma Etty was right.
Maybe Prince was the right horse after all.
Chapter Thirteen
Three days later, Madison decided they were ready to join the others.
“Prince will be more stubborn around the other horses,” the trainer explained, “so you have to be more confident.”
Paley’s stomach clenched. “Can’t we wait until tomorrow? I wanted to take Prince across the stream today.”
“Sorry, sister,” said Madison, shaking her head but looking sympathetic. “You can’t hide out forever. Besides, Prince is ready for his debut at the ball.”
Paley looked at her beautiful horse again. He wanted to strut his stuff. How could she deny him that? She took a deep breath, sat tall in the saddle, and directed Prince toward the big arena before she could change her mind.
It wasn’t that she was scared exactly, but she didn’t want anything to change with Prince. When they worked together down in the cottonwoods, they were connected. The golden thread shimmered between them, making everything sparkly and fresh. It was her own secret magic, and Paley was afraid to jinx it.
The arena was full of kids and horses and noise—snorts and whinnies, squeaking leather, and above it all, the burble of voices. Prince’s fluid stride changed, becoming more staccato. His ears flicked this way and that, like he was paying attention to everything but her.
Leila was riding Cupcake around a row of orange cones. Her back was straight, and she hardly seemed to be holding onto the reins at all. Cupcake wove in and out with careful steps. When they got to the end of the course, Leila asked Cupcake to trot. When she saw Paley, a huge smile spread across her face, and she waved.
A warm rush filled Paley, and she sat tall without even thinking about it. She really did want to ride with her friend. Bryce was up next, and when he rode past her, Prince gave a sudden, nervous step to one side, and Paley slipped on the slick saddle.
Maybe her horse was remembering the squish-crunch of the slap. Maybe he was afraid.
And her job as the rider was to make him feel safe. Prince might be huge and powerful and beautiful, but he needed her to be brave. Confidence. Conviction. Courage. That’s what Fletch had said. Paley had to ride with the confidence of a warrior. She had to be Prince’s queen.
Paley tightened her stomach muscles until she felt compact and sturdy on Prince’s back. She ran her palms down his neck, trying to tell him with her body that she would never ever let anyone hurt him.
When Madison asked her to take a circuit around the arena, Prince moved into stride easily, and Paley let herself move along with him, matching the rhythmic rock of his gait. It was marvelous. On Prince’s back, even walking felt like winning. She circled the arena, always looking the direction she wanted him to go, until she asked him to halt by Leila.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” said Leila. “Do you want to try the cones?” Paley nodded. “Remember to anticipate the turns,” her friend said, “and then use the rein and your leg to direct him.”
Paley traced the course in her mind until she felt sure that she knew what to do, then she gave Prince one more pat and asked him to walk.
In and out. In and out. Paley and Prince wove through the cones. One cone and then another. Paley focused harder than she ever had on plotting their trajectory through the course. When she reached the end and pulled Prince to a stop, she was thrilled and exhausted all at once. She let her breath out in a huff and leaned down to stroke Prince’s powerful neck.
“Wow!” said Leila. “You’re a natural. It takes some people forever to learn to ride like that.”
Paley’s cheeks practically hurt from grinning. “It’s all Prince. He’s amazing.”
Leila put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “I know about horses, Paley Dixon, and no horse moves like that all on his own. You guys are a great team.”
Prince shook his mane like he knew she was complimenting him, and both girls laughed.
“Let’s do it again,” suggested Paley, nodding for Leila and Cupcake to lead the way.
The third time through, they figured out how to do the course in formation. Both girls started at the same end of the line of cones. Leila and Cupcake went to the right. Paley and Prince went to the left. Every time their paths crossed, they high-fived.
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
As they rode toward the barn at the end of the lesson, Paley felt hot and sweaty and exhilarated. Leila talked a mile a minute about the plans she had for their next riding session. Paley half-listened as she used an old towel to dry off Prince’s back, damp where the saddle had rested. She sprayed his mane with detangler and combed it until it shone.
“I’ll meet you inside for lunch,” said Leila, putting Cupcake in her stall.
“Burrito bar?” Paley asked.
“I think so.”
Paley ran her hand along Prince’s flank as she moved toward his tail. “I’ll be in soon,” she said, working on a snarl. Prince stood calmly as she worked. By the time she was done, both of them were blissed out. As long as she and Prince stuck together, they could do anything.
Bryce came in with the big red gelding that was even taller than Prince. He put the horse in the cross-ties without a word. Mechanically, he unsaddled the horse and gave him a cursory brushing. Paley watched him out of the corner of her eye. She’d noticed that ever since he’d hit Prince, either Fletch or Madison stuck close to Bryce. Paley was surprised to see him come in alone.
It made her nervous.
Paley was done grooming Prince, and the only thing Bryce had left to do was take care of his horse’s hooves. Ma Etty was a stickler for foot care. Paley watched as he stood next to his horse, staring at the metal hoof pick in his hand. He shifted his weight back and forth.
Paley could feel his hesitation the same way she could feel when Prince was agitated. Not that she blamed him. It was scary to have a big old horse looming over you. Paley kept working on Prince’s tail, even though there wasn’t a single tangle left.
Bryce fiddled with the hoof pick until finally, he bent down, wrapped his fingers around the horse’s ankle, and tugged. Nothing. He tried again. Still no response from the horse, who placidly swished his tail back and forth. The movement matched the back and forth swing of Bryce’s head as he looked to see if anyone was watching.
Paley ducked her head to hide her face. There was a glint in Bryce’s eyes that made her stomach clench. His horse must have sensed something too, because he pulled back against the cross-ties.
Prince was ready to be turned out in the pasture. It would be so easy to lead him out of there, away from trouble. Paley itched to get out of the barn and away from Bryce, but then she thought about when he had hit Prince. No horse deserved that. She had to step in. Maybe Bryce wasn’t planning anything bad, but maybe he was.
Prince blew on her cheek.
“I know. I know,” she whispered. “I’ve got to stand up.” She shook out her braid and took a deep breath. “Hey, Bryce,” she said, walking over to where he stood, fist clenched around the pick. “Leila showed me this gr
eat trick for doing their hooves. It’s way easier. You want me to show you?”
He squinted at her. Paley tried to look both helpful and nonchalant at the same time. Bryce frowned like he was figuring her angle, but he matched the nonchalance they were both faking. “You want to do it for me? Sure. Why not?”
She forced a smile and took the pick from his hand. Paley took a moment to say hello to the big red horse and show him the pick. When she moved into position, Paley started humming the opening music for Dragonfyre. It always made her feel brave.
“If you do this,” she said, running her hand firmly from the horse’s flank down the length of his leg, “he’ll feel more comfortable.” In just a few minutes, she had all four hooves cleaned and handed back the pick.
Bryce grunted something that Paley figured was supposed to be thanks and took the pick.
When she left the barn, her heart was still beating fast. She hadn’t faced any goblin hordes or fought a fire snake, but she felt victorious just the same. She gave Prince a kiss on the nose before she turned him out into the pasture. After he had sauntered away, she raised her face to the sun and thought that Ma Etty was absolutely right.
Horses do make everything better.
Chapter Fourteen
A week later, Ma Etty woke everyone early by putting a tray of hot cinnamon rolls, bacon, and a thermos of cocoa in the bunkhouse.
“This is going to be the best day ever,” said Paley, through a mouthful of icing.
“No kidding,” said Madison, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and cramming a slice of bacon in her mouth. “I love trail rides.”
“And cinnamon rolls!”
Sundee pulled the blankets over her head. “It’s too early,” she moaned.
Madison uncovered her. “Come on, sleepyhead. Rise and shine before I eat all the cinnamon rolls.”
The whole crew had been talking about the ride for days. They were heading to a small lake nestled on the other side of Fool’s Butte. Riding and swimming! It sounded like a perfect day to Paley. She finished getting dressed and went to sit on the front porch of the bunkhouse with her cocoa and three slices of bacon. In the east, the sky looked like orange sherbet. To the west, it was a deep, sleepy blue dotted with stars.
One Brave Summer (Quartz Creek Ranch) Page 7