No Horse Wanted

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No Horse Wanted Page 16

by Melange Books, LLC


  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never thought of Bill that way.”

  “What way?” Vicky asked. “Sure, he acts like a comedian, but he’s okay. And you two actually have a lot in common. You try to hide who you are behind a mask, too.”

  “I know that.” I looked across the cafeteria, wondering what was taking Harry and Dani so long. Then, I saw it—saw them choose a table and sit down together. “Oh, no.”

  Vicky followed my gaze. “It doesn’t mean anything. Dani changes boys like she does earrings. You have to let Harry learn that on his own. And the best way for him to realize you’re a girl is for him to see you with a different guy. Yes or no for Friday?”

  I blinked hard. I wouldn’t cry. Not here and not now. “I don’t want to hurt Bill’s feelings.”

  “How could you?” Vicky asked. “You don’t even know him like a real guy yet, just as a friend of your older brother’s. Come with us. You might decide you prefer him. He actually sees you as a person and that makes him much more appealing to me.”

  I bit hard into my ham sandwich and chewed. “You only want me going out with someone that you and Jack like. Okay, I’ll do it, but only once. If I don’t like Bill that way, then I’ll let him down easy. No hard feelings either way.”

  “All right! Way to go!” Vicky grinned at me. “And think positive. Dani won’t be out with Harry on Friday night. She’ll probably be babysitting for me since my dad won’t show up two weekends in a row.”

  Vicky had a point, I thought, as I led the team up Golf Course Hill that afternoon. Her dad probably would bail this time around. I should be mad at Dani for taking Harry, but it wasn’t totally her fault. She didn’t know how I felt about him, but he did. Only a dimwit wouldn’t figure out a girl liked him when she showed up to eat lunch with him every day since school started, and Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew how I felt, but he didn’t care.

  My eyes burned with unshed tears. I jogged at the crosswalk while I waited for the light to change. Then I led the way across the street and started down the winding road through the development.

  Lew puffed up beside me. “How far are we going?”

  “At least six miles,” I said. “I don’t want to run again when I get home tonight.”

  “Works for me,” Gwen said from my other side. “It was great winning last week. We’re kicking butt this time, too.”

  Lew dropped back behind us. If he’d had more air, I knew he’d be whining at Steve and the other guys. I shook my head. Lew should just be happy that he hadn’t puked on the way up the steep part of the last hill.

  * * * *

  Monday, September 30th, 7:30 p.m.

  I’d barely finished rinsing the plates and loading the dishwasher that night when the phone rang. I went to answer the kitchen extension and heard my sister’s cheery greeting.

  “Hey, how are you?” I asked. “How’s school?”

  I perched on a bar stool and listened while she shared everything that was going on in Pullman. Finally, she paused for breath, and I said, “Jack will want to know how Vinnie’s doing, so how is he?”

  More chatter, this time about the gelding, and how hard the dressage classes were at the barn near the university, but they’d mastered something she called a ‘counter canter,’ and she was really proud of her horse.

  “How is your boy?” Felicia asked. “Has he colicked again?”

  “No. It’s only happened twice. Dr. Larry said to turn him out on grass a couple hours a day because that’s a natural laxative, and it seems to be helping.” I glanced around the empty room and lowered my voice. “Felicia, can I talk to you?”

  “I thought that’s what we were doing.” She giggled. “Why, what’s up?”

  “Bill wants to ask me out and—”

  A big squeal in my ear and I held away the phone, waiting until she stopped screaming. “Will you listen to me? I like Harry but he seems to like another girl.”

  “Then, he’s a jerk,” Felicia told me. “Bill’s sweet. He may not be the guy that you’ll be with forever, Robin, but you’re in high school. You need to date different guys and learn who and what kind of person you want to be with. Bill likes you the way you are, and believe me, that’s really special. And a person can never have too many friends.”

  “He brought Twaz apples,” I said, “and it’s weird because Twaziem hates most guys, but he likes Bill.”

  “Well, trust your horse because he trusts you to take care of him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Wednesday, October 2nd, 5:10 p.m.

  We stopped at the feed store on the way home from my lesson and bought a tube of dewormer for Twaziem. Rocky had advised us to only give him enough for a six hundred pound horse, and Dr. Larry concurred when I called him for his opinion. If Twaz had too much wormer, he could colic again, and twice was definitely enough. Nobody wanted to spend the night walking him, and I certainly didn’t want to clean out a blockage of dead worms. Yuck!

  He was good when I haltered him and took him to the indoor arena. The carrots helped. Mom dialed in the correct amount of wormer, stuck the tip of the tube in his mouth, and hit the plunger. All done. He was pasted, and I held up his head so he couldn’t spit like a llama. I didn’t want the meds flying everywhere.

  “What are you doing to him?” A guy asked from the far doorway.

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw the Animal Control cop. He so needed to get a life, or was he trying for overtime? “Deworming him. If I had known you were coming today, I’d have the paperwork ready. I’ll go up and get his log sheet. He’s gained eighty pounds since we got him almost three weeks ago.”

  “We should see a real difference now that we’ve wormed him,” Mom said. “I expect him to put on fifty pounds in the next week to ten days.”

  “Awesome,” I said. “Rocky says he can start training next month.”

  “Is that the owner of Shamrock Stables?” Officer Yardley made a note in his file.

  “Yes.” I rubbed the blaze on Twaziem’s face, and he pricked up his ears as though I was his best friend. He kept rolling his tongue like he still tasted wormer. “We won’t be riding him until next summer, but he has a lot of ground school to do before then.”

  “Okay, then.” More notes and the cop looked at us. “There’s really nothing more I can do until he gains more weight, and that’s going to take time. I’ll be back to visit him in four weeks.”

  I blinked and almost felt guilty for being rude to him. Almost, but not quite, because I hadn’t liked his threats to take away Twaz right after we rescued him. “All right. I’ll get copies of his feed and activity logs for you. Do you want me to mail them to you each week? Or do you want to pick up the ones for October when you come in November?”

  Officer Yardley nodded. “That makes sense. I’ll pick them up then. Since you’re one of Rocky’s students, I know you’ll keep an accurate record of everything you do with him.”

  “Let me put him away, then I’ll walk up to the house,” I said. When I led Twaziem into the hallway, I spotted Bill finishing his stall. “Guess what? Officer Yardley is done with Twaz for the next month.”

  “All right!” Bill high-fived me. Then when Twaziem nickered at him, Bill dug into his pocket for apples. “Hey, buddy. You’re out on parole. Is that cool or what?”

  I laughed and watched as the two guys communed over chunks of Red Delicious. “So, what are we doing on Friday night after the game?”

  “Dinner, bowling and the midnight matinee if that works for you,” Bill said. “It’s the same thing Jack and I have done for the last two seasons. A word of advice. Don’t share Vicky’s popcorn. She loads it up with so much salt that I almost choke.”

  “That’s why I always get my own,” I told him.

  It actually did sound like fun, and I wouldn’t have to worry about being careful of what I said if I was with Bill. I could just be me. And if he didn’t like it, too bad.

  * * * *

  Thursday, October 3rd
, 3:10 p.m.

  The meet this week was in Snohomish at a combination park and campground. We’d raced there last year, and I really liked the trails. I spotted Phillip and the Mount Pilchuck team stretching. I nudged Porter. “I bet they think they’ll win because they train here a lot.”

  “In their dreams.” Olivia rocked back on one heel, then the other. “We are so going to State this year and they’re not.”

  I laughed. “I hope you’re right.”

  “I know I am. How’s your horse?”

  “He’s doing really well,” I said. “We wormed him yesterday, and he’ll start piling the weight on now. He’s already gained almost a hundred pounds.”

  “I’m glad you’re doing it slow and steady,” Olivia said. “Then, he’ll keep the weight on.”

  “Got that right.” I finished stretching and we headed for the starting line. I smiled at Cedar. “I know you’ll P.R. today.”

  “Then, you’re ahead of me.”

  “You just need faith.” I glanced at the grandstand and waved when I saw my mom and dad. They were sitting next to an older woman with a totally bad wig. “Hey, I’ll be right back. That’s Mrs. Bartlett, the lady I got my horse from. I want to tell her how wonderful he’s doing.”

  I ran across the track and up the steps. “Hi, Mrs. Bartlett.”

  “Hi, Robin.” She smiled at me. “Your folks say that Twaziem is doing very well.”

  I nodded and fished out my phone to show her his picture. “Here. Take a look. We wormed him yesterday. He’s gained a ton of weight. You have to come visit him.”

  “Really?” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I’d love that.”

  “Okay.” I looked over my shoulder to be sure the race wasn’t starting yet. I eyed my folks. “What about after the meet? Could she come then?”

  “If that works for her, she certainly can,” Dad said. “You’d better go, honey. We’ll figure out the logistics.”

  “All right.” I handed him my phone. “See you after my race.”

  I turned and ran back down the stairs, pausing to grin at Jack and Bill. “You guys are only allowed to root for Lincoln High.”

  “We knew that,” Bill said. “Same rule tomorrow night.”

  “You got it.”

  With all our training, we took the lead early and we kept it. The trail was clearly marked through groves of cedars. We raced up the hills, down them, around curves and then along the lakeshore. It was a beautiful day for a run. The sun shone and the breeze kept us cool. It wasn’t hot either. I could have run for another three miles, but I saw the finish line up ahead. I came in first with Olivia right behind me. Then, it was Porter and Gwen, followed by Cedar.

  Lincoln High won the meet. Coach Norris was totally revved because so many of us had P.R.’d. He told us how wonderful we were all the way back to the school. Next week, we’d be in Everett, and he knew we’d remain undefeated. We were destined to be division champs this year and go to the state competitions.

  Mom picked me up at the school. “Mrs. Bartlett is with your dad. She was thrilled that you asked her to come see Twaziem, and they went straight from the meet. I told your dad that we could order in pizza later.”

  “Sounds great.” I shut my door and buckled up. “After we saw Caine at her house and he told us all the mean things they’d done to Twaziem, well, I wanted her to know that he’s okay. She tried to protect him, but she had to stand up to her grandkids and that’s really tough.”

  “Yes, it is.” Mom shifted in her seat, then leaned across to hug me. “I may not say it often enough, but I’m proud of you, Robin. You’re a good person.”

  “Does this mean I get my car?”

  She kissed my forehead. “Only if we win the lottery, so you’d better give me a dollar so I can buy you a ticket.”

  Mrs. Bartlett was in the barn when I arrived. She stood outside Twaziem’s stall, feeding him one carrot after another. He nosed her for more, but when he saw me, he whinnied.

  I offered him a carrot. “He’s looking good, isn’t he?”

  “He looks amazing,” Mrs. Bartlett said. “I’m glad your mom let you have him. When are you going to start riding him?”

  “Not until next summer,” I said. “He’s only two, and I don’t want the trainer or anybody on him till he turns three. Of course, Dr. Larry has to agree.”

  “Dr. Larry?”

  “Our veterinarian. He’s seen Twaz three times, once for a checkup and twice when he had colic.” I rubbed Twaz’s blaze. “He had a tough time adjusting to regular meals. It upset his digestive system, but he’s doing better now.”

  I didn’t tell her about my car or selling Twaziem to be able to buy my Mustang. I didn’t want to upset her or him. And it wasn’t as if he would go to just anyone. The next home had to be at least as good as ours. He needed regular meals, a clean stall, and lots of love. We stood and fed Twaziem treats and talked about him. Mrs. Bartlett was smiling when she left and that made me happy. I didn’t know how much longer she had to live, but she didn’t have to worry about Twaz anymore, and it should make things easier for her.

  After the pizza, I followed Dad into his study. “Hey, am I going to get my Mustang? Have you and Mom decided whether we can do the installment plan?”

  “I don’t like installments, Robbie. You end up paying a lot more over the life of a contract than you do if you just pay cash.” Dad opened his file cabinet and pulled out a folder. “Take a good look at this printout. This is what you’d end up paying for the car if we accepted Brenna’s deal. It’s really not do-able, honey.”

  * * * *

  Friday, October 4th, 7:15 a.m.

  I was alone at my table in the Commons when Vicky showed up. She grinned at me. “Hey, Jack and Bill said the cross-country team kicked butt yesterday.”

  “Yeah. We did okay.” I swirled the straw in my mocha.

  “And you’re sulking because...?”

  “My dad figured out that I’d be paying way too much for the Mustang, and he already told Brenna that it’s not going to happen. He suggested she find another buyer.”

  “How much is too much?”

  “Almost twenty-five thousand,” I said, “and that doesn’t include gas, repairs, insurance, licensing, or taxes.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot of money, Robin. Does it ever occur to you that your folks might have a point? It’s not like you have a ‘real’ job, so how could you help pay for the car?”

  “I hate it when you’re right about stuff like this, Vick.”

  “I know.” She actually sounded sympathetic as she drank her latte. “And I hate it when you tell me that my mom’s mean because she treats me like a slave.”

  I guessed that was what made us such good friends for so long. We could be honest with each other and not freak out or bear grudges when we shared our truths.

  “But, I really want a Mustang.” I propped my chin on my fists, feeling like a whiny little kid. “And I want to be mad at my parents, but I can’t. They’re great people, and they’re not trying to piss me off. They just think the car is too expensive.”

  “You’ll get one someday. I know it.”

  I eyed her suspiciously. “Are you playing me?”

  “No,” Vicky said. “You always get what you want, so I know that one day I’ll see you wheeling around in town in a gorgeous classic Mustang. And you’d better stop to pick me up.”

  “Only if you’ve left the kids at home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Friday, October 4th, 2:20 p.m.

  No cross-country practice today, so I’d go for a run when I got home, but that meant I had time to walk to Dad’s office. I checked out my wonderful Presidential blue Mustang in the lot. No, it wasn’t mine, and it didn’t look like it ever would be unless I could figure out how to get a job to pay for it. And I was sixteen. How would I possibly make it happen?

  I glanced toward the office trailer, but it was difficult to see inside from here so I walked across the pavement toward the door.
I heard something drop in the service area, so I went to the mechanic’s shop first and spotted Brenna with her head under the hood of the puke green loss leader. “Hi. What’s going on?”

  “A tune-up,” Brenna said, flicking me a quick glance. “I’ve been rebuilding the engine. Want to help me make it run?”

  I blinked. “Sure, but aren’t you mad at me?”

  “For what?” Brenna stepped back to open a little box in her hand. “Being sixteen? Wanting something beautiful? If I didn’t love these cars, do you think I’d have taken over the lot when my grandfather retired?”

  She had a point. I shrugged out of my backpack and put it in the corner. “I am going to buy a Mustang from you someday. And I will be back to help you sell these cars to the perfect owners as soon as you hire me.”

  “Okay.” She laughed. “Then, we have a deal. Now, tell me about your friend, the one that Harry’s been seeing.”

  “I really like Harry,” I said, “but I can’t make him want me the way I want him.”

  “No, you can’t,” Brenna agreed, passing me the tiny boxes of spark plugs. “And you’re smart to learn that at sixteen. I didn’t learn it till Afghanistan when I met this dangerous, deadly, devastating Army Ranger and he became everything I ever wanted.”

  “What happened?” I ripped open the end of the little carton. She’d been in a combat zone so the question seemed obvious to me. I handed over the spark plug to her. “Did he die?”

  “No. We connected, and when I got home I discovered he had a fiancée. For him, I was Ms. Right There. I didn’t know I was just a stopgap until he came home to Ms. Right. It felt like my heart would fall out of my chest at his feet. He’d stomp it into dust, or crush it in his hand the way that witch does on TV.” Brenna checked the gap on the spark plug before she slid it into place, finger tightening it first. “And I was ten years older than you are. I should have been smarter.”

 

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