“Have you seen Banner?” he asks.
“No, sir.”
“Goliath needs to be warmed up. He’s bouncing all over in his stall. This place is making him crazy.”
“I know the feeling,” I say.
“Yeah. Well. If Banner doesn’t show up soon, we are going to have a problem. You go back there, and I’ll go this way,” he says.
I head to the farthest end of the barn. I don’t see anybody down the corridor, but I walk to the last stall before I hear laughing. Banner. I stop walking. I stand in the middle of the breezeway. The sound is coming from the last empty stall. It’s a good thing I didn’t eat that cheeseburger.
“You are in so much trouble now.” Then she laughs again.
There’s a wrestling sound. It’s muffled a little by being inside the stall, and there are horses whinnying down the row. And by the fact that I’m having a hard time thinking straight. I step forward two steps. I hear a guy moan. I can’t be standing here. But I can’t move either.
You lose one, you pick another one up. That’s all it is. Except I can’t pick anything up because everything is detonated inside me. Why is this happening? I’m a crybaby. He didn’t care about me anyway. It’s just a summer thing. I’m just another girl. And a hundred other reasons.
But I don’t believe it. I walk forward until I can peer over the paneling through the bars of the stall grille. I see Banner’s big red blanket on the sawdust, Banner’s hair, and lots of Banner. Entirely too much Banner.
I step backward. I feel like I just got punched in the stomach. I turn around. I have to walk. I have to find Coulter.
* * *
“You find her?”
I can’t find anything to make words with.
“You drinking enough water? You got to drink a lot at these things.”
“No,” I finally croak. “I don’t know where she is.”
“I can’t find Justin either. Idiots. Probably out on those freak show rides. I told everyone not to leave the building if they had a class.”
I mumble for a second and then make real words. “How long before she has to go in, sir?”
“You feeling all right, Cassidy? You look pale, even for you.”
“I’m fine,” I say.
“We’ve got to warm that horse up. He’s sky-high with all these damn carnival rides. Who thought that was a good idea for a horse show?”
“Sir? Should I keep looking, sir?”
“Why do you keep calling me ‘sir’? You enlist in the marines or something?”
“I get polite when I’m nervous or injured.”
“I guess it’s better than when you’re mad. You hit people then.” Coulter spits in the dirt. “Dammit. That horse needs to be warmed up to get him calmed down. He’s worth a bundle if he shows right.” Coulter looks at me. “You know her routine?”
My stomach flip-flops. “Yes. But Banner won fair and square.”
“If life were fair, horses would ride half the time. Do you want to ride Goliath or not?”
My stomach does a double backflip with a half pike and lands in the splits. “Yes, sir. I want to ride Goliath.”
Coulter smiles at me. It’s a rich, fatherly smile. Like I can’t remember ever having from my own father, although I’m sure I have. It makes me feel like I can ride through steel.
Then he says, “Cassidy, you were born to do this. You’ve got a god-given gift, but you’ve sure as hell earned it, too. You ride with that in your stirrups, and people will be falling down to buy that horse. Now I have to go get you set up with the office. You go get Goliath. And if Banner shows up, I’ll tell her she missed her chance. You can do this, right?”
My heart is pumping too hard. I don’t think Banner missed her chance. I think she took it. And now I’m going to take mine. “Yes.”
He squints at me. “They disqualify you if you fall off.”
“I’d better stay on then.”
Coulter puts his arm out to me and rests it on my shoulder. His big beard touches my cheek. And I think I am for sure going to cry because it’s like when I was little and my parents would find me wiped out on my bike. I was completely fine until they felt sorry for me, and then I melted into sobs. But I don’t cry this time. I want him to know I can do this. Because I probably can.
Chapter Forty-Nine
FOR THE FIRST few minutes I’m warming Goliath up, all I can think about is Banner showing up to claim her ride. The thought of seeing her face messes me up so completely I think Goliath wonders if I’m someone else. But when Banner doesn’t appear, it occurs to me that Goliath and I are really going to do this. And we have to do it like it was the plan all along. The judges don’t care that I’m a substitute. Goliath is tail-swishing and head-swinging all over the place, and guess whose fault it is? I bring Goliath in from his warm-up. He walks up next to me and blows his muzzle right in my face.
I gag and wipe my face with my sleeve. “Yeah, okay,” I say. I get it.
I tie him back in his stall. I go into the bathroom, clean my shirt off, and recite our routine in the mirror. I put on a fresh coat of Outlaw Red lipstick. I may not be Banner, but I’m going to give Goliath the ride he deserves.
The class procedure is simple. First, you walk in and saddle your horse from a saddle rack set out in the middle of the arena. Then, you walk, trot, canter, and back. Then, you have three minutes to impress the judge with something unique. Unlike the in-hand classes, the winner gets a trophy and a big chunk of change because all of these horses have gone from being wild to talented performers in less than ninety days. Doing that with a horse is not a bad trick for anyone, but especially for someone who’s under eighteen.
I draw a late ride, so I have to sit through all the other performances, thinking about what I’m going to do. I have this terrible feeling the whole time that I need to hurry up and get inside the arena—as if I’ll be safer in there. I don’t know if it’s because I’m afraid that Banner will come and demand her spot back or because something else bad is going to happen, but I know I need to get going.
I don’t talk to the other riders. I’m afraid of getting distracted. Even watching them messes me up. Of the seventeen horses competing, two bolt, three buck, and one crashes her rider’s leg into the fence so hard the girl doesn’t finish.
I pat Goliath on the neck as he prances and paws next to me. He doesn’t want to be here. I look up in the stands. From where I’m standing I can look up over the arena fencing and see my friends wander in from the carnival, sitting up front in the stands with bags of roasted almonds and painted faces. I don’t think they can see me. They’re here to cheer on Banner, and when I walk in with Goliath I’m not sure what they’ll think.
When they call my number, I practically jump into the arena. I wipe everything out of my mind but the ride. All I have to do is stay on. Goliath knows what to do, and he’s magnificent. “Here we go, boy. Let’s make it good.”
The judge is waiting with his clipboard. The steward has already put my tack on the rack for me. I make Goliath stand with all four feet square in front of the judge.
He says, “This one’s a little bigger than the last filly you showed.”
I nod politely and stand at attention.
When he’s walked around Goliath five times he says, “They let a little thing like you ride this great big horse?”
“Well, if the horse doesn’t mind, then I don’t see why people would, sir.”
The judge tilts his head to me. “You’ve got a spark, young lady. I’ll give you that much.”
When the judge turns his back to me I peek up in the stands and see Coulter, Kaya, and Darius. I see Ethan, Charlie, and Alice. I have a spark. I wish I could yell that to them. At least no one is booing me. In fact, they’re smiling, and Alice is giving me a thumbs-up.
I saddle my friend and mount. Walk, trot, canter
, I think. Piece of cake. And it basically is. Goliath does everything seamlessly. His head stays dropped down and collected, just the way Banner taught him. He picks up the right lead on the first ask. As we canter the announcer says, “Look at this little lady. Talk about grace under pressure. Look at her go.”
I bring him to a stop, back him up, and let us both take a breath. The crowd is restless. Or maybe that’s me. I look out in the stands. All the campers are sitting together, except Banner or Justin. I can’t think about that. Right now there is only the ride.
“And now the freestyle portion of the competition.”
We walk out into the middle of the arena where the judge is standing next to the saddle rack. I dismount and take off my saddle. The crowd goes quiet.
I grab Goliath’s mane and look up. I can do this. I imagine my pink boots flying up in the air when I was seven. I see the first night I climbed on Goliath in the dark. There are no big rocks to give me a boost tonight. I take a big hop and throw myself up. I’m not graceful like Justin, or Banner, but I get a leg over and scramble on. I cluck and we walk and in two steps we’re trotting. The bounce goes through me like a wave. Then I pick up speed in a few steps and we’re cantering. The crowd applauds. Which I could live without, honestly.
I ride forward, gaining speed. I clutch the reins with one hand and Goliath’s mane with the other. We gallop like we were on the ridge, but without Justin. I look ahead, lean forward, and ride. We make a figure eight. We do it one more time, but now we go so fast my hat flies off and hangs on my neck by its string. We’re covering ground. The crowd goes crazy. I can feel how happy Goliath is. We both know we can do this.
I need to go the other direction. I turn right in front of my cheer squad. My eyes catch Coulter, standing there watching me. His face is tight. Scared. So is Kaya’s. Something must be wrong. What’s wrong? I can’t get distracted. “Here we go, boy. One more time,” I say.
We canter in a circle to get back our rhythm. Goliath is going too fast. I forgot to let out my breath. My reins slip in my hand. I lean back. I feel my seat going out from underneath me. And then out of nowhere I see my mom crying. I see Justin with his arm hanging down. I see red hair and a blanket. I can’t get my balance. I can’t grip Goliath or it will speed him up. He stumbles with his front foot. I see a blur, and I go flying off.
I lie on the ground. The air is knocked out of me. The announcer is saying something I don’t understand. I see Goliath’s head hanging down, sniffing me. I put my hand up and pet his muzzle. I shove down my arm to sit up. Nothing’s broken. I’ve gone off a horse before. I stand up.
I don’t know what’s going on around me. I can’t look. I grab the reins and clutch Goliath’s mane. I hop but I don’t make it on. It hurts. I hop again. And again. And I’m on his back.
I cluck. First we walk and then we trot and then we canter. My sweet Goliath. We canter. We fly. We do our pattern the other direction. Goliath gives me this incredibly rare gift that I know I’ll never feel again. And when we come to a stop I can hear the announcer. His voice sounds funny. He is saying something like, “Not what we usually see, folks.” I am so pathetic, I made the announcer cry.
I pat Goliath once on the neck. “That’s okay, buddy.”
And then the audience erupts in applause. Loud applause from all the stands. I’m so shocked I look around to see what everyone is clapping about.
I dismount slowly. A lot of things really hurt when I hit the ground. I pat Goliath and then scan the crowd. People are standing, cheering, smiling. But what I see is not what I want. It isn’t even what I understand. I see Coulter. His eyes are all twinkles and moonbeams. But standing next to him is Officer Hanks. And I may have hit my head, but it looks like Coulter is wearing handcuffs.
Chapter Fifty
I EXIT THE arena, dragging Goliath behind me, pushing through the other entrants in the holding pen into the alley. Coulter, Kaya, and Officer Hanks are waiting for me.
“Have you seen Justin?” barks Officer Hanks.
I just stare at Coulter’s hands. “Why are you in handcuffs, Mr. Coulter?”
“Do you know where he is?” asks Coulter. Even through his beard I can see him grimacing. “I need you to tell the truth, Cassidy.”
Sometimes it’s hard to know which truth to tell.
“I haven’t seen him since this morning. What’s going on?”
“Officer Hanks seems to think Justin has been releasing his horses,” says Coulter.
“I don’t think it. I have video proof.”
Kaya’s beautiful olive skin is bright red. “Miles Hanks. You are acting like a fool. No one in this town will ever speak to you again. Starting with me.”
Officer Hanks says, “These little punks think they are a law unto themselves. And Coulter knowingly lets them do it. For all I know it’s his idea.”
Kaya steps forward into Mile’s face. “Why don’t you arrest all of us, Miles?”
Coulter bows his hat down. “You don’t want to do that, Miles. Trust me.”
Officer Hanks looks at Goliath and then me. “That kid’s going to jail. He’s a brazen thief. And if you know where he is, you’d better get him to come in, or Coulter’s going to rot waiting for him.”
Coulter says, “Miles, I’m starting to think your mother must not have paid attention to you when you were young. But as usual your timing is impeccable. Kaya and Darius, you two are in charge of the auction.” He turns to me. “You did good out there, Cassidy. Real good.”
“Thank you,” I say.
He smiles through his beard. “They’ll be falling down to buy him.”
Chapter Fifty-One
I STAND WITH Kaya and Darius while Officer Hanks takes Coulter to his truck.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I say.
Kaya says, “You did so good out there. Are you hurt?”
“Hell of a thing,” says Darius. “Must have thrown you five feet.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I say.
I walk down the hallway as fast as I can. I see Alice and the guys coming toward me down the alley, so I walk fast. I go into the bathroom and stand in a stall. Breathe, I tell myself. Breathe.
I hear the bathroom door open. I hear feet coming toward me. Lots of feet.
“Are you in there?” asks Alice.
“Yeah, I’m going to be a minute,” I say.
“Why did they arrest Coulter?” asks Charlie.
Ethan says, “Do you know where Justin is?”
“The last time I saw him was this morning. And he wasn’t too happy.” It’s Banner’s voice.
I push open the stall. Three’s a crowd for this horrible little bathroom. Banner is standing in front of me. I want to put my fist in her face, but I’m too distracted by the person standing next to her. A Hispanic-looking kid about six feet tall, with a weak mustache and a whole lot of tats. He’s holding Banner’s hand.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
“Spider, I’d like you to meet Cassidy. Cassidy is my roomie.”
“This is Spider? Your boyfriend who dumped you?”
“He changed his mind. He drove his motorcycle all the way across the country to tell me.”
Spider turns to Banner and laughs in a slow, private way. “She doesn’t look like an eighth grader, Banner. She’s kind of linda, if you ask me.”
“Didn’t ask,” says Banner.
My head swirls for a minute. The stall. The noises. The assumptions. When I get through the maze of what this means I ask, “What about Justin? What was he doing when you saw him last?”
Banner frowns. “Talking to his dad.”
My mouth falls open. I have to shut it by swallowing. “His dad? Wait. His dad?”
“Yeah. I didn’t even know that BLM dick was his dad. Did you? No wonder he’s so messed up.”
“Officer Ha
nks?”
Banner taps me on the shoulder like she’s waking me up. “Um. No, honey. The bigger, older, meaner BLM dick.”
“Officer Riker? That’s Justin’s dad? How do you know that?”
“Justin introduced me to him. And his first name is Riker. Riker Sweet. Didn’t seem like they were getting along much. Big surprise.”
“Did Justin leave with him? Why didn’t you tell anybody?”
“I just saw them talking. And I’m not in a hurry to see Coulter right now, if you know what I mean,” she says, looking at Spider.
“You blew off Goliath.”
“I heard you two did fine without me,” she says. “I knew you would.”
I close my eyes.
Alice says, “Everybody outside. Cassidy needs some air.”
* * *
I wait until they are gone before I open my eyes. Alice is still standing next to me.
“Is Justin in trouble?” she asks.
“Yes. A lot of trouble.”
“Do you think he really stole horses from the BLM? Wait, did you do it with him? Is that what you were doing at night?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Why do you think I wanted to go with you?”
“Okay. Well, I didn’t think of that. But yes . . . no . . . We didn’t steal horses, we released them. Justin, mostly. And if they really have him on video, he could go to jail. So if Riker really is Justin’s dad, and he came in before Hanks but didn’t turn Justin in, Justin is probably with him. And his dad’s . . .” I don’t know how much to say. “He has a temper.”
“What are we going to do?”
There is a lot to process right now, and my head is still zinging from my rendezvous with the arena floor. Banner is not with Justin, she’s with a six-foot ink mural. Justin’s dad is the officer who shot at him in the dark, and Justin never told me. Kaya and Coulter never told me. Coulter is in custody, and there is video of Justin letting the white mare go. But none of this seems as essential as the information that Justin is almost certainly with a man who is capable of hurting him. Again.
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