That Horse Whiskey!

by C. S. Adler

  That Horse Whiskey!

  C. S. Adler

  For Jeanne Place,

  who trained the real Whiskey

  and whose expertise

  made this book possible.

  With thanks for her friendship

  and all the fun we’ve shared.

  To the bright western star,

  my granddaughter,

  Jenna Gavrielle Adler

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 1

  The first thing Lainey did on the morning of her thirteenth birthday was listen. No whinny. No pounding of hooves. She slipped out of bed and checked the front yard from her bedroom window. No horse was nibbling the stringy paloverde tree or browsing on the ornamental grasses Dad had planted to give the effect of a garden in front of their desert home.

  Of course, she told herself, they’d tethered her horse out back. Except what could they have tethered it to? There wasn’t a tree or even a fence post in the area that was going to be Cobb Lane Development when Dad got the houses built. Nothing was out there but scraped earth all the way to the edge of the cactus-studded desert that continued up into the bony brown mountains.

  Well, maybe her horse was still wherever Dad had bought him. Or he could be at Dodge’s ranch because that was probably where they’d board him until Dad could build her a corral and shed. She hoped he’d picked a beautiful animal, a bay maybe, with a black flowing tail and mane, young and frisky.

  Except a beautiful horse would cost a lot. Mom’s voice echoed warningly in Lainey’s head. “Your father’s not getting rich from starting his own business, Lainey.”

  A colt, then, she thought as she got into her jeans. A horse too young to ride would be cheaper, and he’d still be Lainey’s to train and care for and love. Oh, even if he were old and knobby kneed she’d love him because he was hers.

  Ever since she had learned to ride when she was nine, Lainey had dreamed of owning her own horse like her friend Amber. On her tenth birthday Dad had given Lainey her lucky felt cowboy hat with the feathered band around the crown. “Someday there’ll be a horse to go with it,” he’d said. Last birthday he had given her a new pair of riding boots. “I’ll get you that horse next year,” he had said, fixing a time on the promise.

  Today was next year.

  She was pulling on the boots that she’d polished last night in honor of her birthday gift when the phone beside her bed rang.

  “Did you get it yet?” Amber asked.

  “Not yet. I just woke up.”

  “Yeah, well, hurry up. I’m dressed and ready to go riding in the wash with you this morning.”

  “Maybe it’ll be just a colt.”

  “A colt? You’ve got to be kidding, Lainey. Your dad promised you a horse. I’ve got all these plans for where we’ll ride this summer.”

  Lainey chuckled. Amber sounded as aggrieved as if she were the one being cheated. “Take it easy,” Lainey told her. “Dad’s never not come through for me. If he couldn’t get me a horse, he’d have said and not let me keep hoping for nothing.”

  “Right,” Amber agreed. “Okay, then, I’ll be over in an hour to see what you got.”

  Clack went the phone in her ear. Lainey grimaced. Amber hadn’t even wished her happy birthday. Never mind, Lainey told herself. Amber was honest and loyal and as passionate about horses as she was. They’d be friends even if Amber weren’t the only girl within walking distance here on the outskirts of Tucson.

  Lainey brushed her shiny, waist-length black hair into a single thick braid. Dad loved her hair loose, but the braid was better for riding. She picked up her lucky riding hat and hurried down the hall to the kitchen, where she could hear Mom’s cool mountain stream of a voice crossing Dad’s rumbling one.

  “Morning, everybody. Here I am, teenaged at last. Do I look any different?” She twirled for them, posing with her hat out in one hand.

  “You’re a picture,” Dad said, but his usual exuberance was missing.

  When Lainey asked him, “Don’t I get a birthday kiss?” he held out his arms silently. He was a big man, muscular from all the hammering and sawing he’d done. His hair was dark like Lainey’s, but wavy, and his features were large where hers were small. Lainey kissed him and lingered in his hug. Dad was the big hugger and kisser in the family. He’d even hugged and kissed Lainey’s older brothers before they’d left home for good.

  Lainey waited, tingling with excitement, for something to be said about her horse.

  “So what does the birthday girl want for breakfast?” Mom asked. “Pancakes?”

  “I’m not very hungry,” Lainey said. She never was, and she knew it bothered her mother, who enjoyed satisfying the huge appetites of the men in the family.

  Apologetically, she went to peck her mother’s smooth round cheek. Mom was blond, with a china doll face, big blue eyes, and creamy skin. She wasn’t delicate, though. Her large, solid body seemed to compress the air, making it hard for Lainey to breathe near her. Small and slim as Lainey was, she felt in danger of being crushed close to her mother.

  On her place mat—Lainey always sat facing the sliding doors to the patio—was an envelope with her name on it. She picked it up. It would be like Dad to hide the clue to her horse’s whereabouts in her birthday card, just to keep up the suspense to the last second. “Can I open it?” she asked him.

  “Why not? It’s your birthday present,” Dad said.

  Instantly Lainey understood. He hadn’t wanted to pick the horse himself. There’d be money in the card to buy it. The outside of the card showed a girl on a horse, and inside—inside was a hundred dollars. Not enough to buy a good horse, not even a good colt. Was this to pay for horse feed, then? Puzzled, Lainey looked at her father and asked, “What’s this for, Daddy?”

  “Riding,” he said. The rumble in his voice was heavy, and his eyes squinted at her as if he were in pain. “Buy you some riding time at Dodge’s. There’s no horse, Lainey.”

  “No horse?” She stared at him in disbelief. “But Daddy, you said—”

  “I tried. Couldn’t swing it. Not yet. I’m sorry, honey. I’m really, really sorry.” He looked down at his plate as if he couldn’t face her.

  She turned to her mother. “Is he joking?”

  Mom’s eyes were sad as twilight. “Times are hard right now, Lainey. You know houses aren’t selling. I told you there’s no money.”

  “You didn’t tell me. You just said—and Daddy, you didn’t say anything. You told me I was getting a horse. If you changed your mind, why did you let me keep hoping?”

  “I was sure things would look up and we’d swing it for you somehow.”

  “Lainey,” Mom said sharply, “you know your father would give you the moon if he could.” She was on Dad’s side, as always, in any situation.

  “I didn’t ask for the moon, just a horse. And you promised.” Lainey stared hard at her father. Betrayal had emptied her of everything but anger. “You shouldn’t have let me keep hoping, Daddy. That was mean.”

  The room looked smaller when Dad stood up. Shadows etched his face now. “I’ll see you ladies tonight,” he said. “Got a good hour’s drive to that addition I’m supposed to be building.” He glanced at Lainey and his lips formed words, but he strode out to the carport without speaking them.

  The air conditioner clicked on even though it was still early morning.

  “Mom!” Lainey crie
d and burst into tears.

  “I’m sorry, Lainey,” Mom said. “But you made your father feel worse than he already does. A horse is a luxury, and right now we’re having a hard time paying for the essentials. There just isn’t any business. Every deal has fallen through. Even remodeling work is hard to get.”

  “But why didn’t he tell me that?”

  “Because he doesn’t like to worry you. He wants you to enjoy your childhood.”

  “He treats me like a baby. He always has. I hate it. I hate—” Lainey choked on her rage.

  “Get a hold of yourself now,” Mom said. “And tonight you better apologize to your father, and sound as if you mean it. Or else.”

  Lainey bolted from the room and ran to her own. She threw herself on her bed. Apologize to him when he’d deliberately let her go on expecting, when he hadn’t trusted her with the truth?

  The sliding door in the kitchen whispered open, and Amber’s voice said, “It’s me, Mrs. Cobb.” Lainey sat up and dried her wet cheeks with her sheet.

  If she’d been one of her older brothers, Dad would have leveled with her months ago. Then she would have had time to ease into her disappointment. If he’d just said, “Soon as I sell a few of the houses in this development, Lainey,” or “Soon as I get more remodeling jobs.…” Her brothers claimed she was Dad’s favorite, but they were the ones he’d asked to join him in Cobb Builders. They were the ones from whom he expected the most—until Lon had left to join the air force and Pete had run off to New York City to be a musician. She might be Dad’s favorite, but he didn’t respect her. That was what she couldn’t forgive him for.

  “Lainey, your mother told me,” Amber said. She was standing in the doorway in her riding outfit, her square freckled face shaded by her Stetson and her blond hair cropped so short she looked like a boy. “Look,” she said, “why don’t you rent a horse from Dodge’s and we’ll go riding anyway. No sense wasting your birthday altogether.”

  “No,” Lainey said. She didn’t have the energy to ride this morning.

  “Come on. I’ll treat you,” Amber insisted. “I was going to get you a present anyway—something for your horse. So instead, I’ll treat you to rent.”

  “No.” Lainey shook her head. She knew Amber’s father was rich from his car dealership, but when Amber offered to pay for things, it made Lainey feel less than equal. “You go alone, Amber.”

  “So you’re just going to lie around and sulk?”

  Stung, Lainey answered, “I’m going to figure out how to get enough money for a horse. I’ll just have to save up and buy my own.”

  “Save up what? Your allowance? You’ll be an old lady before you have enough. You know Belle cost my dad over a thousand dollars. Even if you buy a colt, you’re talking hundreds.”

  “I’ve got a hundred to start, and I can earn money.”

  “Oh, sure. What can you do? You tried babysitting already.” Amber snickered.

  Lainey bit her lip, recalling that humiliating day when she’d been locked in the closet by the Wilsons’ twin boys and didn’t get out until their parents came home and released her. Amber had laughed so hard when Lainey told her the story that Lainey had seen the humor in it and laughed with her, but it didn’t seem funny now. What could she do? There were only a few houses along the highway near enough to walk to. Amber’s twelve-room ranch house, with its kidney-shaped swimming pool and the barn and corral where Amber kept her horse, was a half mile away. Dodge’s ranch was a quarter of a mile in the other direction.

  “Well, maybe Mr. Dodge will hire me,” Lainey said.

  “You’re going to become a wrangler?”

  “The cowboy he hired a month ago quit on him this week.”

  “But, Lainey, you’re just a kid.”

  “He lets me saddle my own horse sometimes,” Lainey argued. “He says he knows he can rely on me to do it right. He likes me, Amber. He says I’m good with the horses.”

  “Okay, so ask him, and while you’re there, rent a horse and come with me. I’ll lend you the money if that’s the only way you’ll take it.”

  Lainey considered. It was her thirteenth birthday, after all. But she’d have to pay back any money she borrowed, and that was no way to save. Besides, Amber never cared how many hours she rode. She’d keep going even into the hundred-plus temperatures of Tucson’s summer afternoons when every living creature was resting in the shade. “I think you’d better go without me,” Lainey finally said.

  “You’re no fun,” Amber said. “Okay, be a pain. See if I care.” She stomped off down the hall in her cowboy boots. A horse snorted outside. No doubt Amber had left Belle standing with her reins dropped to the ground. She was proud of having trained Belle to be ground hitched.

  So now Amber was angry at her. Up for barely an hour and already Lainey had set everyone against her. Some way to celebrate her birthday.

  Mom filled the doorway suddenly. “I’m going to the trailer to get those specs ready for your father. Want anything before I leave, Lainey?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Well, you be done sulking by the time your father gets home tonight. He’s depressed enough as is.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Lainey said.

  “Now you do.” Heavy as Mom was, her footsteps were light as she walked away down the hall.

  With a sigh, Lainey got up. She’d better do her thinking on her way to Dodge’s ranch because if she meant to impress him, she’d have to arrive early.

  Outside in the hazy yellow morning air, Lainey looked around. There wasn’t much to see on the bare desert landscape. Theirs was the only house finished in Cobb Lane, but the gravel roads were in. Their curves and little flags indicated the lots on which houses would be built someday. Two partially built models were waiting for buyers.

  Next to the adobe arch with the words Cobb Lane incised on it was the trailer office where Mom would sit waiting for the telephone to ring. Mom was the salesperson and sole office staff for Cobb Builders. Awful boring work, Lainey thought. Planning and design would be more interesting. Even carpentry had to be better than office work.

  She hadn’t yet told Dad that her ambition when she grew up was to be the child who made the s at the end of Cobb Builders mean something. What if there were no business for her to work in when she grew up? Poor Dad. He’d talked about being his own boss for so many years, and he’d cracked the champagne bottle against that adobe arch with such high hopes. Lainey had been sure they were going to be rich any minute. Well, he should have told her things were bad. She wasn’t a baby, and he shouldn’t still be treating her like one. Never mind. Buying her own horse would convince him of that.

  Hat set squarely on her head, Lainey set off for Dodge’s ranch.

  Chapter 2

  Just past the plantings of yucca and tall saguaros and fake rocks that were supposed to help customers see the potential charm of Cobb Lane Development, Lainey saw Mr. Dodge’s head wrangler coming toward her. Lopez was riding Chico with his usual straight-backed grace and leading a trail ride of what looked like businessmen. They were probably from some convention at the big new hotel a mile past Dodge’s ranch. The hotel had been set in foothills studded with cholla and mesquite trees and creosote bushes so unpalatable nothing else would grow near them.

  Lopez would be taking the men to the wash, where they could gallop in the dry sandy riverbed for an hour. Or maybe he’d lead them across the road for a walk on one of the state forest trails, out there where sharp-edged mountains took up all the space that wasn’t sky.

  “Hi, Lopez.” Lainey greeted the small, elegant man with respect. He knew more about horses than anyone—more than Mr. Dodge himself by his own admission.

  A nod was all Lopez granted her in return, but Lainey didn’t feel slighted. Lopez did his communicating with horses, and even then in silence. She wondered if it was for his horses that he kept his pearl-buttoned western shirts immaculate and his pointed cowboy boots freshly shined.

  To Lainey’s surpr
ise, the last rider in line was mounted on Whiskey. Now why had they sent out Whiskey this early in the day when they still had all of Dodge’s horses in the corral to choose from? As usual, Whiskey came abreast of Cobb Lane and promptly reversed course to gallop home. A quarter of a mile was the powerful brown horse’s limit. Even Lopez couldn’t make Whiskey go farther.

  The hefty, thick-legged man riding him seemed to know what to expect because he immediately began tightening the reins and trying to turn Whiskey back in the direction the other horses were going. Once he’d forced Whiskey’s head around, the man dug in his spurs. Lainey winced. She hated spurs—the cruel bite of their steel cutting edges. The spurs and the high curved bit on Whiskey’s bridle were meant to hurt him. Not to mention that the jowly man must weigh a ton.

  Again he dug his spurs into Whiskey’s belly. Instead of giving in, Whiskey reared, but the man kept his seat.

  “Ride ’em, Marshall. Whoopee!” yelled a pale young man with a newly hatched look.

  “Get down, you sucker. I’ll show you who’s boss,” Marshall snarled.

  Whiskey twisted and reared again without unseating his rider. A vicious jab of the man’s spurs made the horse scream. Lainey’s heart squeezed in a fist that released only when Whiskey finally managed the turn and kicked up his heels for home. In an instant, horse and rider were toy sized in the distance.

  “We’ll wait here,” Lopez told the other four men quietly. “There’s another horse saddled and ready for him.”

  “Well, Marshall can’t say he wasn’t warned,” a pudgy rider said. “That horse did just like you said he would.”

  “Aw, Marshall will master the sucker yet. Bet ya,” the young man said.

  “Master that outlaw? Not a chance,” the pudgy man said.

  By then Lainey had walked out of hearing range. A while later, she turned into the gravel driveway in front of Mr. Dodge’s ranch house. The building was so old it had no air-conditioning. It was protected from the sun by its own thick walls, plus the shade of an enormous tree, and the ramada—a long front porch with a roof of woven sticks.