No Horse Wanted

by Melange Books, LLC

  “I think you’re plenty smart,” I told her. “I couldn’t run a place like this. My grandma says that ‘love makes fools of us all,’ and neither of us are stupid.”

  “Well, then let’s go with what your grandmother says and believe we’ve both learned and grown a lot.” Brenna forced a smile. “Now, what about the girl?”

  “She’s nice,” I said. “Dani looks like a model, but she’s smart and good with animals and keeps her promises. She tries to make other people feel good, too.”

  As I talked to Brenna and we worked on the car together, I realized that I was telling the truth. I still liked Dani, and maybe I hadn’t really seen who and what Harry was as a person. I kept seeing him as blond and beautiful, but he was more than a pretty face. He was a human being, and he undoubtedly had baggage of his own. He must. He lived with his older sister, not his parents. Did Dani see the person when I hadn’t?

  * * * *

  Friday, October 4th, 10:10 p.m.

  Bill and Jack were riding high when they came out of the locker room to meet me and Vicky. They should be. Lincoln High had wiped up the field with Lake Gurlock, thirty-two to nothing. Jack made one touchdown and Bill scored two.

  “Dinner first.” Jack hugged Vicky and kept his arm around her waist. “Where do you want to eat?”

  I smiled at Bill, feeling suddenly shy. “What do you guys like? You won tonight.”

  “Italian? Chinese? Mexican?” Bill grinned at me. “What sounds good?”

  We discussed restaurants while we headed toward the parking lot and my dad’s car. We opted for a pizza place up in Stewart Falls that Vicky raved about. I hadn’t been there before, but Parthenon Pizza was totally cute in a checkered tablecloth, big candles in wine bottles kind of way. And the pizza was amazing, thick layers of cheese over meat, olives, and peppers on a homemade crust. We took the leftovers with us, squabbling about who would get to keep them.

  Bowling was a blast too, girls against the guys, and we won. Jack said that meant we had to buy the popcorn, but Vicky told him that was against the rules. Losers paid, and we would choose the movie. It was ‘chick flick’ time, and he could just suck it up. Lots of whining ensued as he drove to the theater for the midnight show, and I never laughed so much in my life.

  We got back to our house a little before three in the morning. Luckily, Bill and Vicky were staying over, so it meant there wouldn’t be a hassle about curfews from their folks. I froze when Jack pulled in the drive. I’d expected a few lights on in the house, but not the ones in the indoor arena. Oh no! Not again. I pushed open my door and was running for the barn before my brother parked the car.

  I passed Dr. Larry’s truck and raced in the side door of the building. Mom walked Twaziem around the ring.

  “What happened?” I demanded. “Is he all right?”

  “Colic.” Mom kept leading Twaz. “It’s a reaction from the wormer, so it’s good that we used a mild one and under-dosed him, rather than going by his actual weight.”

  I nodded and went to my horse. He nudged his blazed head into my side, and I hugged him. “Poor baby.”

  “Poor us,” Dad told me. “Zeke thought he saw someone around the barn and came to check things out. He found Twaziem in distress so he started walking him. We took over when we got home from the game.”’

  “Why didn’t you call us? We’d have come straight here,” I said. “Bill and Vick wouldn’t have minded.”

  “That’s why,” Mom said. “You and Jack are uber-responsible kids. So are your friends. Every once in a while, you need to act like teenagers, and we need to remember to let you. If we desperately needed you, we’d have called.”

  “And this way you missed cleaning out the gobs of dead worms that caused the impaction,” Dr. Larry added. “Next time, Robin.”

  I rubbed Twaziem’s neck. “Is ‘gobs’ a medical description?”

  “Considering what was inside him, I’d call it accurate.” Dr. Larry stretched and yawned. “I’m headed home. Call me in the morning, and let me know how he’s doing. I’ll swing by to get you on Sunday, Robin, and check on him then.”

  “Okay.” I took the lead line from Mom. “I have him now. I’ll walk him. Has he pooped yet?”

  “No. He doesn’t have much in the way of gut sounds either, so keep him moving.”

  Mom and Dad headed out of the arena with the vet, just as Bill came inside. Jack and Vicky were right behind him. I glanced at the three of them. “What a way to end a great night. Sorry, guys.”

  “Not your fault.” Bill came to walk beside me. “We came up with a plan. You and I will take the shift now and Vick and Jack will take over at seven. Is that all right?”

  I stopped and looked up at him. “Are you sure about this? It doesn’t sound like a fun time to me.”

  He winked, then reached out to tug my braid. “Any time I spend with you is fun.”

  “A-h-h, aren’t you sweet?” I laughed and all my worry about him evaporated. “You know exactly the right thing to say.” Twaziem nudged him, and I cracked up again. “Oops, you’re in trouble. You don’t have any apples for him.”

  “Wouldn’t matter if I did.” Bill massaged one of Twaz’s ears. “He can’t have them until he passes gas or manure.”

  “Wow, we have fascinating discussions. Horsy poop.”

  I started walking Twaziem again and Bill paced me. Jack and Vicky vanished out the barn door in the direction of the house. So, it wasn’t super romantic, I thought. Still, there was something special about a guy who stuck with you when your horse was sick, and who arranged to walk most the night so you could save a life together. Next time Bill teased me, I’d remember his good points.

  During the next four hours, I learned more about Bill. He liked sports, which I already knew since he and Jack were on a lot of the same teams. However, he also read a lot. He could quote speeches, poems and what he called ballads, an old kind of story song. He claimed if I came up with a topic, he could deliver an oration on the subject.

  “No way,” I said. “You can’t possibly do that.”

  “Sure I can. Pick a subject, any subject, and I’ll show you.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Twaziem snorted agreement and tossed his head. He hadn’t bitten or kicked at Bill once tonight, even if there weren’t any apples.

  “Come on.” Bill took my left hand in his. “You know you want to test me.”

  “Okay.” I remembered the lecture in my history class that day. “Something about the Revolutionary War, and it can’t be King George’s quote about nothing happening on July 4th.”

  “All right.” Bill thought for a moment, then began, “They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?”

  “Oh my Gawd.” I stopped walking and stared at him. “Who said that?”

  Bill grinned. “Patrick Henry. It’s part of his speech to the Virginia Convention in March of 1775. Want to hear more?”

  “You’re amazing. I’d never remember all that.”

  “You would if it interested you,” Bill said. “I’ll bet you can tell me every detail about the engine in that Mustang you want.”

  “You’re right. Do you want to know the specs?”

  Before Bill answered, Twaziem tugged on the rope, and I gave him a quick glance. Was he trying to lie down? Did he want to roll? I couldn’t let him. He’d twist a gut and rupture something. As I watched, he lifted his tail. He cut loose with a long fart, then proceeded to take a giant dump.

  Bill and I both laughed. Then, he took a step closer and rested his hands on my shoulders. “If I kiss you, will you turn your man-eatin
g horse on me?”

  I caught my breath. “No, but I can’t guarantee he won’t bite you.”

  “I’ll take the risk.”

  He bent his head and brushed his lips over mine. A whisper soft, sweet kiss. It ended far too soon when Twaz bumped us with his head. He was on a mission for apples.

  I touched Bill’s cheek. “Next time without an audience?”

  “Yes, but now we know he really likes me.”

  The truth slipped out before I could stop it. “So do I.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Saturday, October 5th, 1:05 p.m.

  I was still stumbling around the house in my pj’s and bathrobe when Vicky popped into the kitchen. “Hey, Sierra’s here to visit Twaziem. Do you want to get dressed and come to the barn?”

  I yawned and stared longingly at the coffeepot, which took forever to brew. “Sure. I’ll be right there. Why did Sierra come?”

  “So Rocky can give me credit for internship hours today.” Vicky came across the room and took down two of the plastic cups we took to the barn from the shelf. “I love her. She says as soon as I turn eighteen, I can move in with her to finish high school. And I’ll only be a slave to the horses, not my parents, or their kids.”

  “And you’re getting credit for walking my horse all morning until he is a hundred-percent better. She’s fabulous.” I added cream and sugar, then poured in strong coffee from the glass pot and took a big swallow. “I’ll hit the shower and be right there.”

  “We’re grooming him and clipping him if that’s okay.” Vicky filled her two cups. “Sierra says he needs a bridle path, his fuzzy ears trimmed, fetlocks...You know, the whole works so he looks like a real horse.”

  “Okay, but if Dani shows up, don’t let her polish his hooves.”

  “Are you still friends with her?” Vicky eyed me with concern. “I know that it bugged you when she and Harry clicked.”

  “That was all in my head, not his or hers,” I said. “And it’s better to have somebody who actually sees me and likes me, anyway. Didn’t you tell me that?”

  “Yeah, but I’m glad you were listening.”

  A half hour later, I made it to the barn. Sierra ran the electric clippers while Vicky held my horse. Twaziem didn’t like the sound, but they weren’t actually cutting any hair. He was just supposed to grow accustomed to the noise. I took my bucket of carrots and went over to join them. I offered a long, skinny carrot, and Twaz took it. Crunch. Munch. Now his brain was on me and treats. He really didn’t care what Sierra did.

  She started behind his ears, trimming a section of mane so his halter could lie on the one inch gap in his black hair. Then, she gently folded his right ear and cut away the excess fuzz. Two carrots later, she was finished with the left ear. “Want me to do his whiskers?”

  “Yes, but leave the ones around his eyes. I’ll get them with the scissors.” I broke up a carrot into pieces. “You do what you can, and then I’ll give him treats.”

  “Works for me.” She stepped up, letting the clippers buzz until he relaxed. “He’s being really good. A lot of the colts on the farm totally freak the first time we do this.”

  “The carrots help,” I said. “Dani showed me the trick you taught her of using bribery to get results. Since he was starved, food has a constant appeal.”

  Sierra nodded. Tall, red-haired, and skinny, she looked like a giant-sized version of her mom, Rocky. But like her mother said, Sierra didn’t have patience for stupid people—stupid horses, yes. She never got angry with a four-legged critter, even when she said she’d found another two-legged one that was a complete waste of time, space and oxygen.

  She slid the clippers around his muzzle, along his mouth and between his nostrils until he was smoothly shaven and most of the billy whiskers were gone. When I ran my hand over his face, I still felt the occasional bump of stubby hairs. He wasn’t as smooth as Lady had been at the show, but I didn’t plan to use a disposable safety razor on him. I gave him three pieces of carrot as a reward before Sierra began trimming his chin and jaw.

  “Next time, you’ll be able to do this,” she told me. “Think of it as part of your ground school class, only this time we’re using your horse, not Charming.”

  “Twaz is looking pretty good,” I said. “He got his hooves trimmed last week. He’s had his first bath, lots of grooming, and now he’s been clipped. All he needs is to gain about six hundred pounds.”

  “Well, that will take time,” Sierra said. “Don’t count on him being up to weight for at least another six months.”

  “We’re not going to wait that long to start training him, are we?” I asked.

  “No way. There’s a lot he can learn in the meantime,” Sierra said. “And you don’t want him to just stand around and eat. He’ll lose muscle tone and get ornery. He needs to work so he learns to respect you, or he’ll think he’s large and in charge.”

  That made sense, and I was glad to hear it. I didn’t want him staying in his stall and eating his head off when I meant to find him a home. A real home, not just the one he had here, but the kind of home a horse deserved, with people who honestly loved and cared for him. He’d have better luck if he knew what was expected of him. I’d learned that when I adopted and tamed feral kittens. If they’d cuddle with their new owners, they received more love.

  The gate opened and Dani came across the ring. “Hi. Your mom said I’d find you down here with Twaziem, Robin, and it was okay if I came to hang out with you guys.”

  Vicky laughed. “We’re trimming Twaz, but you’re not allowed to put nail polish on his hooves.”

  “And to think I have a bottle of pink rose in my purse,” Dani teased. She wore blue jeans and a Shamrock Stable sweatshirt, so she’d obviously come from the stable. “I think I freaked out your mom last night, Vicky. She was stunned when she met my au pair. Didn’t you tell her that we were coming to take care of the kids and the house?”

  “She doesn’t listen,” Vicky told us, keeping the tension on the lead line so Twaziem held still for his haircut. “I explained that I need to be with the squad at the games, or we’d never get to the regional competitions, and all she talked about was how much she needed me to babysit the brats.”

  “They’re really not brats.” Dani joined us and petted Twaziem before she gave him one of my carrots. “They helped clean up their toys, dusted the house, put away laundry, and tidied their rooms too.”

  “Whoa. How did you manage that?” I asked. “Trade them in for pod people?”

  “I just threatened to call you.” Dani grinned and poked me in the ribs. “The mean sitter who puts them to bed right after supper. I told them if they didn’t want to go to bed early like babies, they had to show me they were big kids and could stay up till ten o’clock.”

  “And that worked?” Vicky asked.

  “Yes. When your mom got home from work, my au pair gave her a stack of resumes from her friends who need positions. She could hire one of them to pick up the slack at your house. The nanny would do household tasks around college classes.”

  “How would she pay one?” Vicky heaved a long sigh. “She’s always griping that my dad barely pays the child support and we’re hardly getting by. That’s why she pulls me out of school to take care of the kids.”

  “Most of the ones that my au pair knows are college students.” Dani picked up a brush and began to groom Twaziem. “They would work to get a place to live like the downstairs apartment and a flexible schedule so they could attend their classes. It’s worth considering, and your mom didn’t reject the idea. She asked me why we were rallying around to babysit for free, and I told her that it was a school project. We want Lincoln High represented at the regional cheerleading trials. Without you, we don’t have a chance of winning.”

  “That’s the same thing I told her.” I gave Twaziem another carrot. “I swear it went in one ear, out the other and didn’t even pause in the middle.”

  “Yeah, but my mom says the brain learns through repe
tition,” Sierra said. “If she hears the same thing from enough different people, maybe Vicky’s mom will actually listen.” She dropped to one knee and ran the clippers along Twaziem’s lower right front leg. “So, do you need a sitter next week or do you have it covered, Dani?”

  “She would, but my mom does better when we switch things up,” Vicky said. “You want to take it on Friday? My dad’s supposed to take the kids on weekends, but he doesn’t always show up, and I won’t know until five o’clock if he’s coming or not.”

  “Call me and I’ll be there by six.” Sierra moved to the right rear leg. “I thought he was your stepdad, Vick.”

  “He is, but since I barely remember my biological dad, I figure I’ll keep calling him my dad and maybe he’ll figure out that I’m not a servant,” Vicky said, “or else he’ll start paying me to take care of the kids.”

  “Good thinking.” I broke up more carrots and gave Twaziem another piece. So far he was amazing me. He didn’t try to kick Sierra, and she was running the clippers down his cannon bone, along the fetlock joint to his ankle and then around the coronet band. “I swear he’s a rocket scientist.”

  “No, he’s just like a lot of guys,” Dani teased. “He loves having all this feminine attention.”

  We all cracked up, and Twaziem flicked his neatly trimmed ears. Then he nuzzled Vicky. She didn’t have any treats, but I did, so he happily crunched more carrots. I glanced at Dani who was brushing his right side now, carefully staying out of Sierra’s way. “Are you coming to the football game next week?”

  She nodded. “Afraid so. Harry asked me to come watch him play even after I told him that football wasn’t my thing.”

  “You can sit with me,” I said. “Vick will be down in front cheering on the players.”

  “And I’ll be using your technique on her brothers and sisters,” Sierra said.