by C. S. Adler
“So I guess I don’t get any free rides,” she said.
“Who says? You’re helping me, aren’t you? You can ride free today and tomorrow, Lainey. Can’t expect you to train a kid that don’t want to be trained.”
Mr. Dodge hauled the saddle over to Chester. The big red clown of a horse was busy demolishing the fence.
“Is that horse hungry or something?” The voice was Ryan’s. He’d come out from the barn and was standing behind Lainey.
“Chester’s a chewer,” she said. “Whenever he gets bored he chews on the fence. He’s a little foolish, but he behaves himself if you let him follow the leader on a trail ride.”
“You know all these horses?”
“There’s only thirty. Sure, I know them. I’ve been riding here for years, and most of the horses have been here longer than me.”
“Listen,” Ryan said, “I’m here, too, and I don’t have a book with me, so if you want to teach me how to saddle a horse, I might as well learn.”
Lainey gave him a long look without saying anything. He shrugged and said, “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time. It’s not your fault my father’s a turkey. Look, this is your territory. You’re the boss.”
“Fine,” she said. “Want to do Andy, that little bay over there? He’s pretty easy.”
“You do it, and I’ll watch,” Ryan said.
When Lainey put the bit in the bay’s mouth, Ryan’s lip lifted and his brows lowered in disgust or disbelief. His expression was so comical she almost laughed. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Do you have to stick your fingers in their mouths? There must be a safer way to make them take the bit.”
“They’re used to it, Ryan. You won’t lose any fingers, trust me.”
“Listen, my fingers have to be tastier than fence rails, and if a horse will chew on those—“
“By tomorrow it’ll seem natural to you,” she said, wondering if fear had caused some of his resistance to learning about horses. She tossed the saddle over Andy’s back and leaned under his belly to grab the cinch.
“Tomorrow I won’t be here. Tonight I’m telling my father what I came out here for, and if he’s not interested, he can send me home.”
“To your mother?”
“Yeah.… I like my mother. Anything wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Lainey said. “I like my mother, too, but it took two parents to make me. I want to know them both.”
“Right,” he said. “Exactly my point.”
“But you’re not giving your father a chance if you go right back home just because he didn’t open up the minute you arrived,” Lainey said, sounding in her own ears like her mother again. “He’s not a book you can pick up and read anytime you want.”
Ryan stared at her and said, “Yeah, and you can’t tell a book by its cover.”
“Are you making fun of me again?” she asked.
“No. Actually, I’m mocking myself for expecting you to be a featherweight because you’re little and pretty.… Sorry,” he said.
His compliment confused her into silence. Why had he said she was pretty when she’d looked in the mirror a thousand times and never seen it? Dad said she was pretty, but that was because she was his only daughter and because of her hair.
Lainey nudged Shiloh away from the feeding rack, slid the bit between his lips, and adjusted the curb strap under his chin. “Shiloh here needs a little more head control,” she said keeping her eyes on the horse, “but he’s not that difficult. The only really difficult horse here is Whiskey.” She pointed to the muscular young animal standing alone at the far end of the corral, whisking his tail at flies. “He hurt a rider this morning.”
As if to show her he could be difficult when he wanted, Shiloh began backing away from her. Ryan jumped sideways. “Don’t worry; Shiloh’s okay,” she said. “He probably just doesn’t feel like going for a ride right now, do you, Shiloh? Hmm?”
Shiloh tossed his head and took a step toward Ryan, who backed even farther away. “You’re not afraid of horses, are you?” Lainey asked him.
“I respect anything that can break my foot by stepping on it,” Ryan said. “You think that’s chicken?”
“No,” she said. “But really, there’s nothing scary about horses except that they’re big.”
Just then Whiskey whinnied and reared. He came down on his front hooves and raced the length of the corral. When he reached the fence, he whirled and raced back through a bunch of horses who scattered to get out of his way. He kept galloping straight for Lainey and Ryan. Ryan dove under the railing and out of the corral. Lainey took hold of Shiloh’s mane and sprang high onto his bare back just as Whiskey pounded past her feet. He made a sharp turn and galloped back to where he’d started.
“That horse is crazy!” Ryan said.
“He’s got a lot of spirit,” Lainey said from her head-down position across Shiloh’s back.
Ryan frowned at her as if she might be crazy, too.
Chapter 4
Lainey stepped into the kitchen in time to take Ambers call before the answering machine did. “So how’d you make out at Dodge’s?” Amber asked.
“Well, I got a job but not a paying one.”
“What good’ll that do you?”
Lainey explained.
“You’re going to be spending all your time with a boy from New York City?” Amber yelped. “What about me?”
“Not all my time, Amber.”
“Listen, I got it worked out. Forget the kid at Dodge’s.” Amber sounded definite as usual. “I talked to my dad, and he’ll rent us a horse for you to use this summer so we can go riding together.”
“No!” Lainey said sharply. Then more mildly she added, “No thanks, Amber. I can’t do that.”
“Why not? It’ll be your birthday present. Besides, you’re my friend, and I want you riding with me.”
Lainey shook her head, stuck for words that would explain that the present was too big and somehow embarrassing. “I can’t, Amber. I’m sorry.”
“Well, all right for you, Lainey Cobb. I’m mad at you now. Really mad.” Bang went the receiver.
Lainey sighed. Eventually, she’d have to try and soothe Amber’s hurt feelings, but not now. Especially since she wasn’t going to give in about letting Amber’s father provide her with the horse her own father couldn’t afford.
Mom came in through the front door. She was pink cheeked and perspiring from her short walk home through the heat of the late afternoon sun. “Hi, Lainey. How’d your day go?”
“Not bad.” Again Lainey explained about the free riding time at Dodge’s.
“Sounds fine,” Mom said, “but be careful what you say about it to your father. Don’t let on you had to get a job because of him. Understand?”
“I understand.”
“You’re a good girl,” Mom said. The mild compliment pleased Lainey. Dad always made it clear that she was everything he wanted in a daughter, but Mom’s approval was rare.
Mom bent down to get out the big pot for pasta. “Fettuccine or thin spaghetti tonight?” she asked Lainey.
“I don’t care.” Mom raised an eyebrow at her. “Fettuccine,” Lainey said to please her.
Mom nodded. “You’re not still mad at him, are you?”
Lainey shrugged. “I guess not.” It was hard to stay angry at Dad. Hadn’t he been her willing horse when she was little, galloping around the house with her on his back yelling at him to giddiap? Hadn’t he taken her on camp-outs in the mountains?
She’d never forget sitting within the glowing circle of the campfire and his protective strength, awed by the star-specked black of space that reached out and away forever around them. Daddy was her special person, the one she loved best. Still, he shouldn’t have let her wake up on her birthday to take the cold drop and hard landing of finding out she didn’t have a horse.
After Dad called to tell them he was coming home late and not to wait for him, Mom served the fettuccine with the cold bean sala
d she knew Lainey liked. “Eat some of your birthday cake,” Mom urged.
Lainey ate without much appetite, even though the cake was a rich, moist chocolate. “It’s delicious, Mom,” Lainey said.
“Your brothers always liked that recipe best,” Mom said. “I would have made your favorite if I’d known what it was.”
“I guess I don’t have a favorite.” Quickly, Lainey added, “Everything you bake is good,” but Mom’s clear blue eyes doubted Lainey really meant that.
It was nearly ten when Dad walked into the kitchen looking tired and dirty. As he was washing up, the phone rang. The middle child, Peter the musician, was having trouble in New York and needed help—translation, another sizable loan. That sent the parents off for a private talk before Lainey exchanged more than a hug with her father.
While she waited for them to come out of their bedroom she got into the tub to soak and think. There had to be some way to earn money if she could just stretch her imagination a little. She wondered if anyone in the few houses within walking distance needed help cleaning. Even scrubbing sinks and toilets would be better than sitting for little kids who wouldn’t listen when she told them not to climb on the kitchen counter. But the dusty, makeshift homes tucked back from the road behind a chicken wire fence or hedge or overgrown prickly pear cactus weren’t promising. She’d probably end up donating her services if she found anyone frail enough to need her.
It would be much more fun to work at the ranch. If only there were some paying job like—she thought of Whiskey and how she’d unsaddled him after his bad experience. He could use more attention than the wranglers gave him. But Mr. Dodge wouldn’t pay her for that.
Her mind slid off to Ryan. He’d been difficult to deal with, but attractive anyway. Why? Maybe it was just that he was male and, like Mom, she’d always been partial to males. Ever since kindergarten she’d fixed on some especially gutsy or honest or bold boy to yearn after. Not that she ever let any boy know she liked him, and none she liked had ever yet shown an interest in her. Maybe Ryan appealed to her because he was a big guy, like Dad and her brothers. Only Dad had a lighthearted nature while Ryan was pure sludge—except when he smiled.
Imagine him reading on vacation instead of spending every possible minute outdoors! Imagine not being turned on by the whipped cream peaks and folds of mountains stubbled with green after the winter rains. Imagine not hurrying to catch the remnants of sunset-colored clouds before they disappeared into night. Or not being happy to rock in a saddle to a horse’s gait as it clip-clopped through the desert while a hawk sailed overhead. Ryan was an oddball, all right. Still, she felt sorry for him. It would be sad not to know your own father.
When she finally got out of the bathtub, her parents still hadn’t come out of their bedroom. Some birthday, she thought as she climbed into bed. Becoming a teenager better not mean Dad was going to ignore her from now on.
Lainey woke up to a dawn bird chorus feeling cheerful as usual after a good night’s sleep. So cheerful that when she caught her father alone at the breakfast table, she could say easily, “Daddy, I’m sorry I gave you a hard time yesterday. I understand about the money.”
His eyes were clouded with apology as they met hers. He reached out to stroke the loose cascade of hair she’d brushed a hundred times just for him. “It’s not like I meant to disappoint you, Lainey,” he said. “I wanted to get you a horse.”
“I know. You just should have told me sooner. I mean, I’d have understood if you’d leveled with me.”
“What do you mean, leveled?” he said, withdrawing his hand in quick offense. “I’m not hiding anything. I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just bad luck that I started a business at the wrong time, that’s all.”
“I know, Daddy.”
“Then what do you mean, leveled?”
“I just mean you can tell me how things are. I’m not a baby. I can take it.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not out in the street yet. I may not be doing for you what your friend Amber’s dad does for her, but I will. We’ll pull out of this, and you’ll see. I’ll come through for you. I’ll come through for the whole family.” He slammed his hand on the table so hard that the mourning dove salt and pepper shakers jumped. His anger startled her.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry.” She put her arms around him in an effort to calm him down. He felt as nerved up as Whiskey had been after that man abused him.
Dad patted her back. “It’s okay, honey. I know, I’m just—don’t mind me, okay?… So how did you enjoy your birthday ride yesterday?”
“I didn’t take one. I’m going to save the money you gave me.”
“What for?”
“So I can buy my own horse.” She said it proudly, expecting him to be impressed with her independence, but he pulled away from her and stood up in one swift motion. His craggy face looked bleak. For the second day in a row he walked out on her without saying good-bye.
She had said the wrong thing again.
“Daddy!” Lainey was pressing her fingers to her lips when Mom appeared. She had been in the bathroom and missed the whole discussion.
“Did you speak to your father?” Mom asked.
Lainey nodded.
“Well, good.” Mom yawned and slid her bulky body onto one of the tall stools at the kitchen counter. She poured herself a cup of coffee.
“It wasn’t good. Dad’s acting crazy,” Lainey burst out.
“Oh-oh! Well, don’t take it to heart. It’s not you, Lainey. The bank told him yesterday that if we can’t make the next payment, they’re going to foreclose on this property.”
“Mom!”
“Right. We’re in a tight squeeze. And having to find a couple more thousand for Peter doesn’t help relieve your father’s anxiety. We need to go easy on him.” She gave Lainey half a smile. “See what you get for growing up? An earful of your parents’ troubles.… Or would you rather I keep them from you like I used to?”
“Uh-uh,” Lainey said. “I want to know what’s going on in my own family.”
“Fine, just don’t you take to worrying, though. It’s enough that your father does it. Worrying only makes things seem worse. And it’ll probably work out okay. Money troubles usually do.”
Lainey nodded. “Think positive.”
Mom laughed. It was what she always said when Lainey worried about some test she had to take in school.
Lainey ate toast and cheese and drank a glass of milk, then took off for Dodge’s ranch. When she got there, Chick and Lopez were saddling up a long string of horses for an all-day pack ride into the mountains. There was no sign of Ryan.
“Hey, Lainey,” Chick called over his shoulder. “Hear you’re going to be working with us.” His grin lifted his scraggly blond sideburns into his long hair.
“Not hardly,” she said. And if Ryan didn’t appear she wouldn’t have a job at all.
“Just don’t get yourself promoted over me. I already got enough bosses with Lopez and Dodge,” Chick joked.
“I’m not your boss,” Lopez said in his usual unsmiling way. “I’m not anybody’s boss.”
“Good thing the horses don’t know that,” Chick teased him. Lopez moved to the next animal and slung a blanket neatly onto its back. He hadn’t acknowledged Lainey’s presence.
She found Mr. Dodge in his office taking a phone reservation for an eight-year-old’s birthday party trail ride. When he was finished, Lainey asked for permission to take Lady out.
“Take any horse you want that’s there, honey.”
“Ryan’s not coming?”
“Haven’t heard. Wouldn’t surprise me if he was on his way to the airport.”
“I bet he isn’t,” she said. “I bet he wants to get to know his father as much as his father wants to get to know him.”
“Maybe so. The kid don’t want to be a cowboy, though. That’s for sure.”
She laughed. Then she threw out the notion that she’d gotten in the bathtub, even though she guessed it was m
ore of a fantasy than a practical idea. “So since I can’t train Ryan, how about giving me a chance with Whiskey?”
“How’s that?”
“Give me the job of training Whiskey for you. Would you pay me to do that?”
Mr. Dodge put his booted foot up on the desk and leaned back in his desk chair considering. “I’d pay you if you could do it. Thing is Whiskey didn’t get trained right as a colt and horses don’t retrain easy.… If I’d had my wits about me, I’d never have gotten stuck with him. Traded cash and a good old quarterhorse for that ornery, useless hunk of horseflesh.”
“What if I could make him useful?”
Mr. Dodge considered some more while she held her breath. Then to Lainey’s delight he said slowly, “Well, he’s not a mean one. He don’t bite or kick. He could throw you, though, Lainey.” He poked at a back tooth with his tongue, still thinking. “Tell you what,” he said. “You get your folks to agree in writing that’s it’s okay with them if I let you work with him, and I’ll give you half of whatever more I get for Whiskey than he’s worth now. That’s if you improve his manners enough so I get any more. How’s that strike you?”
“Money?” she said. “You’ll give me money if I can train Whiskey?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“It could even be enough money to let me buy my own horse,” Lainey said, thinking out loud.
“Well, I suppose it might be a good chunk of cash. But frankly, I doubt you can do anything with that animal.”
“I can try,” Lainey said. Her heart beat a joyous tattoo.
She ran out to the corral, which looked empty with half the horses out on the all-day ride. Over near the mesquite tree, Whiskey was rolling in the dirt, his four legs at awkward angles in the air. What a mess he was. She bet no one had brushed or curried him for ages. Eagerly, she went to the barn to get a rag and a brush, a hoof pick and a currycomb, and a halter.
Whiskey was standing up and watching her by the time she approached him.