That Horse Whiskey!

by C. S. Adler

  “Whiskey’s smart, too,” Lainey said.

  “Yeah, well, then he should do okay in the parade.”

  Amber explained that anyone who wanted to enter it had to meet at the courthouse at 8:00 A.M. sharp Saturday. “The only thing is, to get from Dodge’s ranch to the courthouse, you’ll have to ride Whiskey over that metal bridge. You know, the one with the mesh bed? That could be a problem. Most horses balk because it clangs so loud when they step on it,” Amber said.

  “Well,” Lainey said, “I’ve still got a few days. Maybe I can get him used to it.” And to crowds of people, she was thinking, and to city traffic. And to who knew what else. It was asking a lot to expect Whiskey to get accustomed to all that in a few days. But then Whiskey might be capable of more than she imagined.

  Chapter 10

  They separated at the main road. Amber went left to go home, and Lainey turned right toward Dodge’s ranch. She wondered, as she entered it, if the ranch had seemed this dusty and run-down last summer. If it had, she hadn’t noticed. Last summer she’d moved in a world that sparkled with promise. This summer it had dimmed considerably, and not just for her but for her parents and for Mr. Dodge.

  What Mr. Dodge told her while she was unsaddling Whiskey dimmed Lainey’s world even more. He gave her permission to ride Whiskey in the parade easily enough. It was what he said just before he hobbled off to answer the phone in his office that was the shocker.

  She was standing there brooding about it as she picked the dirt out of Whiskey’s hoof when a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, “So how’s the horse training going, Lainey?”

  “Ryan! Hi. I haven’t seen you around in a while.” She smiled over her shoulder at him.

  He leaned against the barn wall. “I’ve been recovering from the famous weekend camp-out with my father.”

  “Saddle sores?”

  “Cactus spines in the butt.”

  She laughed briefly, then said, “I’m sorry.”

  “So was I. He brought me back slung over my horse belly down. Luckily I collided with the cactus on the way home, and we didn’t have too far to ride.”

  “You fall or the horse pitch you off?” Lainey asked.

  “More like the saddle slipped down to one side and I went with it. Dad claims I didn’t tighten my cinch properly.”

  “Did he yell at you?”

  “He’s not the type to yell. He just looked so disgusted I wanted to slink into the nearest snake hole. I don’t think he thinks I’m too bright.”

  “So it wasn’t a good weekend.”

  “No, I wouldn’t say that. My father talked a lot. I got closer to understanding him. In fact,” Ryan said, “I suspect he’s quite a guy. The problem is the feeling’s not mutual.”

  “Just because you rolled off a horse?”

  “No, just because I’m not the macho kid he’d like me to be.”

  “Oh.” Lainey thought of her own father who also preferred macho kids—male macho kids, not female substitutes.

  “So, what’s new with you and Whiskey?” Ryan asked.

  “We’re getting along great. We’ve been trail riding together every day.”

  “No kidding? That must make you happy.”

  “Sure, but—”

  “But what?”

  “Oh, Saturday there’s a parade to open the new park in Tucson,” Lainey said. “I’m going to try and ride Whiskey in that, and then if he does well, he’ll get auctioned off to the highest bidder.”

  “That’s no problem. Just don’t do well and nobody will want him.”

  She moved to a rear hoof and, leaning into Whiskey, lifted his foot so that she could work on it. With her eyes focused on the hoof, Ryan wouldn’t see her squeezing back the tears. It appalled her that tears threatened her so often lately.

  “Mr. Dodge likes the parade idea,” she said, and then she slipped Ryan the bad news Mr. Dodge had given her earlier. “Especially because he’s selling off all his horses for whatever he can get for them. He says he’s too old to run this operation anymore.”

  “You’re kidding! The ranch is closing down?”

  “Yup. Apparently Chick’s already looking for another job. Lopez will stay on until the horses are gone. That’s to help Mr. Dodge out.… Lady and Shiloh are going to a riding school that has mostly little kids. The best I can hope for Whiskey is that if he does well in the parade somebody nice will buy him.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair when you worked so hard,” Ryan said.

  It wasn’t fair, she thought, not because she’d worked hard on Whiskey but because she’d never love another horse as much. How could she when there’d never be one like him?

  Ryan followed her as she led Whiskey to the corral and set him loose. Whiskey looked back at her as if to say, “So that’s it for today?” Then he ambled over to check out the manger. Finding it empty, he shouldered his way into a group of horses standing in the mud by the water barrel and stuck his nose in the water to drink.

  “So what are you here for?” Lainey asked Ryan.

  “Oh, I thought I’d visit with Chester and see if he feels like hauling me around on his back for a while. My father’s got some business down at the hotel, so he dropped me off for an hour or so.”

  “Today I’m going to walk Whiskey through some heavy traffic and maybe around a shopping plaza. That’ll take a lot longer than an hour,” Lainey said. “But tomorrow I’ve got to try him on a bridge he’ll have to cross to get to the start of the parade. Want to ride with me then?” She hoped Ryan wouldn’t think she was flirting; she just wanted a chance to see him again.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “I mean, Whiskey likes riding with other horses,” she added hastily to put a different cast on her invitation. “And if you rode Chester—”

  “It might keep Whiskey calmer. Sure.” Ryan sounded pleased.

  Lainey wondered if he liked her. She was only just discovering how much she liked him.

  Dad came home with two small bunches of store-bought flowers—red carnations for Mom, and pink and white ones for Lainey. “For my two best girls,” Dad said.

  “What’re we celebrating?” Mom asked after admiring the flowers and thanking him.

  “Remember the old man who gave me such a hard time about the addition to his house?”

  “The high-voiced one with the fancy silver buckle?”

  “Right. He wants me to build a house for him and his new wife.” Dad grinned. “Seems he got himself married to a lady half his age, and she doesn’t like his old place.”

  “Well, good for him and good for us.”

  “Then we don’t have to move?” Lainey asked.

  Dad’s face fell. “It’s not that good, Lainey. We’re still losing Cobb Lane—all of it. This job’ll just pay our other bills for a while.”

  “I found us a house,” Mom said.

  “Where?” Lainey asked.

  “A mile or so back of where your friend Amber lives. It’ll be a long way from the ranch, but don’t worry. I’ll drive you.”

  “You won’t have to. Mr. Dodge is going out of business anyway.”

  “Is that so? Well, too bad, but I’m not surprised,” Dad said. “Losing his wife took the heart out of him.”

  “Or he just decided he’s old enough to retire,” Mom said. “After all, a ranch like that is a lot of work.”

  Her parents’ eyes focused on Lainey. Afraid their sympathy would bring on the sudden tears again, she changed the subject by saying, “So you found a house? A little one?”

  “It’s smaller than this,” Mom said, “and a few years older, but I think you’ll both like it. It’s got a nice wide porch across the front and plenty of space out back.”

  Dad stretched his long arms up so that he almost touched the ceiling. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “When are we moving?” Lainey asked.

  “I told them by the end of next week.” Mom watched her as if she feared Lainey might erupt at the news.

&
nbsp; “I’m thirsty,” Lainey murmured and went for a glass of ice water. She hoped they wouldn’t be able to see from her back any sign of the hard lump stuck in her chest.

  That night she couldn’t seem to fall asleep. She was remembering how excited they’d all been the day they’d moved into Cobb Lane. Everything in the brand-new house, the first that Dad had built as his own boss, gleamed and smelled new. Lainey had gloated over her bedroom being big enough to have an extra bed in it for a friend to sleep over. She had reveled in her walk-in closet and enjoyed stowing her belongings in it. Mom had admired the golden oak cabinets and her fancy kitchen tiles. Dad had even talked about there being space out back for a pool someday.

  Well, they’d had two good years here. And as Mom would point out, nobody was sick or dying. Dad’s business could always turn and go up instead of down. They might even build another house here or buy back this one. But more than the house, she’d miss Dodge’s ranch. And more than the ranch, she would miss Whiskey.

  He had to behave himself well at that parade. If he didn’t, and Mr. Dodge was left to sell him, it would go bad for Whiskey. She wondered if the horse would understand if she tried to explain it to him. He had to understand. “None of your tricks now,” she’d tell him. “This is serious business. In fact, your life depends on it.”

  Chapter 11

  Ryan was getting out of his father’s Range Rover when Lainey arrived at the ranch Thursday morning. From what she could see of Ryan’s father through the car window, he wouldn’t win any macho-male contest himself, so why should he be disappointed in his son? A thick layer of soft flesh hid the shape of the man’s bones. Only his wiry gray hair showed vigor.

  “Looks like they had a big trail ride this morning. The corral’s pretty empty,” Ryan said to Lainey after his father took off. “I hope Chester’s still around.”

  “How come that goofy horse is your favorite, Ryan?”

  Ryan’s grin brought dimples to his cheeks. “Chester and I are simpatico.”

  She grinned back at him. “You mean you like to chew on things?”

  “I mean, we’ve both got oddball habits. He chews and I read. Why do you like Whiskey?”

  She thought about it. “Whiskey’s a great horse. He’s beautiful and smart and—”

  “Hard to manage,” Ryan put in.

  She ignored that. “And he’s playful, and I like that he’s got a mind of his own.”

  “An independent horse for an independent girl.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sort of.”

  “So today we see if he’ll go over that bridge for you, huh?”

  “Right. It’s the last thing I need to test him on before the parade. He did fine in traffic yesterday.” She saw Whiskey watching her from inside the corral and went to the fence to give him the bread she’d brought. He took it neatly, then nuzzled her shoulder.

  “Is he saying thank you, or asking for more?” Ryan asked.

  “He’s saying, ‘Hi, glad to see you,’” she said.

  “Amazing,” Ryan teased. “Only two legs and you can understand horse language.”

  “Whiskey’s my best buddy.” She kissed his spongy nose, and Whiskey lifted his lip in that horsey smile of his.

  Ryan laughed. “I didn’t know a horse could do that,” he said.

  Lainey didn’t respond. She was thinking that she and Whiskey had only today, tomorrow, and the parade, and then if someone bought him, he’d be gone from her life forever. The thought depressed her.

  Chester was busy rubbing his head against a loose fence railing. “There’s my horse,” Ryan said. “They should have called him Termite, the way he’s drawn to wood. How about I get a head start on saddling him while you tell Dodge we’re here?”

  Lainey nodded and walked over to the office, leaving Whiskey at the railing.

  Mr. Dodge looked up from the morning news on his TV. His eyes were red rimmed as if he’d been crying. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  “They’re gone, Lainey. Lopez is leading Lady and Shiloh over to the lads’ camp. And last night they came down with a horse van from that hotel up in red country and took off the best of what I had left.” His voice cracked, and he took out a handkerchief and blew his nose.

  “Oh, Mr. Dodge, I’m sorry. But why did you sell the horses if it makes you feel so bad?”

  “Had to. The only sensible thing for an old party like me. I got to provide for myself, you know. Can’t just—” He sighed. “Besides, them horses’ll be better off up north in Sedona. The summers are cooler, and there’s grass maybe.” He sniffed. “Don’t mind me. I got nothing to be weepy about. Just getting soft in the head.”

  She gave him a clean tissue from her pocket and walked around the desk to pat his shoulder while he blew his nose again. “You didn’t sell Whiskey, though,” she said. “Did the people from the hotel want him?”

  “Well, they asked about him. But you and me got a deal going on that horse,” Mr. Dodge said. “I couldn’t sell him out from under you before the parade, not after the job you did training that animal. I’m looking to be proud of you on Saturday.”

  “You’re not going to watch, are you?” she asked in alarm.

  “Sure I am,” Mr. Dodge said. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Oh, boy!” Lainey said. “I wasn’t thinking about having an audience.”

  Now it was Mr. Dodge’s turn to pat her shoulder. “You’ll do fine,” he assured her.

  Of course, she realized, she had to do fine and so did Whiskey because if no one bid on him at the auction—if he didn’t show well—he could still end up being sold by the pound to be made into dog meat.

  “Chick called last night,” Mr. Dodge said. “He got himself a bartending job. Said he’s sick of smelling like a horse and not earning enough to buy himself a new car. Can’t blame him, young fellow like him.”

  “Lopez won’t stop being a wrangler, will he?” Lainey asked.

  “Him? No. He likes horses a whole lot better than people. Got himself a wife about the same time he got Chico. He didn’t handle the wife too good and lost her, but he turned Chico into a first-rate working horse. So long as there’s horses to handle, Lopez won’t have no trouble finding himself a job.” Mr. Dodge fixed his gaze on Lainey. “You know, I would’ve hired you like I promised if I’d’ve stayed in business. Can’t get over what you done with Whiskey.”

  “I still have to try him out on that metal bridge.”

  Mr. Dodge grunted. “Oh, yeah. The one over the irrigation canal. Forgot you have to get him to cross that.… Listen, if he don’t want to go across, don’t you try and force him, hear? I don’t want nothing happening to you.”

  Ryan was already mounted on Chester and waiting for Lainey at the corral gate when she brought the tack out of the barn for Whiskey.

  “I’m going to miss this place,” Ryan said as she let herself into the corral. “It’s been fun riding here.”

  “There are other ranches in town. Your father will probably drop you off at another one just as easy,” she said.

  “Maybe he could pick you up and you could come with me?”

  The invitation pleased her, but Lainey said, “I may be gone, too, Ryan.” Briefly she told him about her family’s moving plans.

  “You won’t leave without giving me your address, will you? I mean, you’re the only other kid I know in this town. You don’t want me knocking on doors all over Tucson asking if they can tell me where Lainey is.”

  She laughed. “You know what they’d say? They’d say, ‘Who’s Lainey?’”

  “Wanna bet? That parade’s going to make you famous.”

  “You mean when Whiskey goes wild and runs up the courthouse steps?”

  “Come on,” he said. “You’ve got that horse eating out of your hand. He wouldn’t go wild with you on his back.”

  She didn’t think he would. But as she saddled Whiskey, she couldn’t help worrying. When his hooves clanged on that metal bridge and nothing felt nor
mal to him, would he go crazy? He might.

  Before mounting Whiskey, Lainey checked the cinch Ryan had buckled on Chester and adjusted the lengths of Ryan’s stirrups.

  “You know, Lainey,” he said, “if you were a guy, you’d be just the kind of kid my father would like.”

  “If I were a guy? But I’m not.” Lainey spoke more sharply than she intended.

  “Hey,” he said. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I mean, it’s great you’re a girl. It’s—”

  “Come on, Ryan,” she interrupted his embarrassed sputtering. “Let’s go. I want to be on that bridge before the sun gets too hot.”

  She swung into the saddle and led the way along the verge of the road. They walked the two horses the whole three miles. Passing Cobb Lane, Lainey held her breath as usual, but Whiskey kept moving as if he’d forgotten this was the spot where he used to about-face. His lean cheeks swayed just ahead of her hands as he clopped along, ignoring the cars and trucks passing a few feet away. The slow motion would have put Lainey to sleep if she hadn’t been so keyed up.

  “Now, Whiskey, this bridge we’re going to cross may feel strange to you,” she warned him. “But it’s just a little bridge, not that wide and not that long, and if you keep to the deck part, you won’t have to step on the mesh at all. And even if you do step on the mesh part, your feet are too big to get caught in those little holes. Really, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  “Sounds as if you’re the one who’s worried,” Ryan said.

  “Maybe a little, but he’s going to do it. He’ll just cross that bridge as if he’s been doing it all his life. Won’t you, Whiskey? Won’t you?” She patted him and talked nonsense to him. Meanwhile, his ears flicked back to listen as if the sound of her voice were entertaining him on the long, hot, dull walk.