Books by
Lauraine Snelling
Golden Filly Collection One*
Golden Filly Collection Two*
High Hurdles Collection One*
High Hurdles Collection Two*
SECRET REFUGE
Daughter of Twin Oaks
DAKOTAH TREASURES
Ruby • Pearl
Opal • Amethyst
DAUGHTERS OF BLESSING
A Promise for Ellie • Sophie’s Dilemma
A Touch of Grace • Rebecca’s Reward
HOME TO BLESSING
A Measure of Mercy • No Distance Too Far
A Heart for Home
RED RIVER OF THE NORTH
An Untamed Land • A New Day Rising
A Land to Call Home • The Reaper’s Song
Tender Mercies • Blessing in Disguise
RETURN TO RED RIVER
A Dream to Follow • Believing the Dream
More Than a Dream
*5 books in each volume
High Hurdles Collection Two
Copyright © 1998, 1999, 2000
Lauraine Snelling
Cover design by Eric Walljasper
Cover photography by Aimee Christenson
Special thanks to Birchbury Farm and Stacy Lee for their generous assistance with the cover
photo shoot
Previously published in five separate volumes:
Close Quarters © 1998
Moving Up © 1998
Letting Go © 1999
Raising the Bar © 1999
Class Act © 2000
Scripture quotations identified NIV are from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved. The “NIV” and “New International Version” trademarks are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by International Bible Society. Use of either trademark requires the permission of International Bible Society. www.zondervan.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Minneapolis, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
E-book edition created 2011
ISBN 978-1-4412-3508-4
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
Contents
About the Author
Editor’s Note
Book Six CLOSE QUARTERS
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 • 15
Chapter • 16
Chapter • 17
Book Seven MOVING UP
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
Acknowledgments
Book Eight LETTING GO
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 • 15
Book Nine RAISING THE BAR
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
Book Ten CLASS ACT
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 • 15
Chapter • 16
Chapter • 17
Epilogue
About the Author
Lauraine Snelling is an award-winning author of over sixty books, fiction and nonfiction, for adults and young adults. Her books have sold over two million copies. Besides writing books and articles, she teaches at writers’ conferences across the country. She and her husband, Wayne, have two grown sons and a basset hound named Chewey. They make their home in California.
Editor’s Note
Originally published in the 1990s, these books reflect the cultural and social aspects of that time. In order to maintain the integrity of the story, we opted not to impose today’s styles, technologies, laws, or other advancements upon the characters and events within. We believe the themes of love of God, love of family, and love of horses are timeless and can be enjoyed no matter the setting.
To every reader who says
reading HIGH HURDLES
and GOLDEN FILLY books
has changed her life.
Thank you, heavenly Father.
Chapter • 1
DJ Randall couldn’t believe her eyes—or ears.
“I wanna go with DJ!” Bobby Crowder screamed. Or was it Billy? It didn’t matter. Tears strained down the five-year-old twins’ matching red faces. Between flailing feet and arms, they were lucky someone didn’t get hurt. Especially them. And to think these two were now DJ’s brothers. Scary thought.
“Don’t wanna go with Nanny Ria!” The second outdid the first in lung power.
Maria Ramos, the nanny who’d been caring for the twins since their mother had died three years earlier, looked about ready to cry, too—or yell. Neither action was quite appropriate in front of the club where they had just held the wedding reception for DJ’s mother, Lindy, and Robert, the twins’ father. The new Mr. and Mrs. Robert Crowder charged out of the club’s open doors when the shouts reached the decibel level of a marching band.
“What is going on here?” Robert laid a hand on each boy’s shoulder. He had to squeeze some to get their attention.
DJ watched the squirming twins from the sidelines. She never had been one to volunteer for bruised shins. Unless, of course, she got them working with a horse. Then it didn’t matter.
Besides, in the long mauve dress and matching satin shoes she’d worn for the wedding, she doubted she could leap fast e
nough to keep up with the furious five-year-olds. Let alone calm them down. Her mouth dropped open. Her mother, Mrs. Perfectly Groomed, was kneeling on the concrete in her long, full ivory dress to comfort one of the hiccuping boys. When she stood up, the dress wore black knee prints, but Lindy didn’t even notice.
Gran and Joe joined the scene. By now the twins had quit crying, but their lower lips quivered like fresh Jell-O Jigglers. Robert picked up the boys, and they buried their faces in the collar of his black tuxedo as Lindy stroked the back of the nearest one and murmured to them both.
DJ paused to examine the weird feeling that now wriggled its way to her attention. Like there was plate glass between the rest of the family and her. Like she was looking from the outside in. This is stupid, she told herself. Get over there and … and what? Play big sister? That’s what you are now, so get on it.
“We wants DJ.” The boys pulled their we-think-talk-and-act-the-same trick that always amazed her. Just because they were identical twins, did they have some invisible connection?
Like a swimmer coming up for air, DJ broke out of her fog and crossed the sidewalk. She ordered her mouth to smile, putting the weird stuff out of her mind. She tried to kill the feeling of being an outsider but only succeeded in burying it.
“Hey, guys, what’s up?”
Smiles peeked out from beneath the tear streaks. “Don’t want to go to our house with Nanny Ria.”
“Want to go to Grandpa’s house with you.” Identical sniffs as two pudgy hands wiped under two snub noses.
“Gross, you two. Get a tissue.” She stepped back, but her grin said she was teasing. It worked. The smiles came out. Even with the Double Bs smiling, DJ was grateful the twins were on their way back to Robert’s old San Francisco house to stay with their nanny. She had been dreaming of a whole week with Gran and GJ—Grandpa Joe—alone.
One boy coughed, then the other.
Gran put a hand on each forehead. She looked up at Robert.
“Trouble, huh?” he asked.
Gran nodded, her silver-shot gold hair ruffling in the breeze. “No wonder they’re being so fussy.”
“Okay, fellas, how about your mommy and I take you back home and get you settled?” Robert eyed the boys with concern.
“DJ too?”
“No, not DJ. She has to go to school on Monday, and she can’t drive herself, remember?”
“Grandpa could come get her.”
Gran ruffled the talker’s hair. “You have all the answers, don’t you?” She put an arm around DJ’s waist. “DJ has to help me put all the stuff away so you have a home to come to next week. I need her more than you do.” She raised on tiptoe and kissed each boy’s hot cheek. “I bet Nanny Ria has Popsicles in the freezer for you when you get home.”
The Double Bs looked at each other and then lay their heads back on their father’s shoulders. They really didn’t look like they felt very good. DJ patted their backs. “You guys be good, okay?”
They nodded.
Robert’s younger brother, Andy, drove up with Robert’s Bronco, and Robert belted the boys into the rear seat, motioning for Maria to get in on the other side. When the twins started to whimper again, Robert and Lindy waved to everyone, and Robert helped her tuck her wedding dress around her feet so it wouldn’t get caught in the door. With another wave, they drove off, leaving DJ feeling lost, like a little kid trapped in a pitch-black room. Her mother had been so concerned about the boys, she hadn’t even hugged her daughter. And they’d be gone on their honeymoon for more than a week.
DJ shrugged. “Oh well,” she whispered. But the words offered no comfort, only another glimpse at that plate-glass window between her and her family—grown even thicker.
She thought about the twins’ brat act. She’d rather work with Patches, the new horse she was training, at his most obnoxious any day. What had her mother gotten them into? DJ sighed. At least she would have one last whole week at Gran’s by herself. No other kids in sight.
“Come on, Darla Jean.” Gran tapped her grandaughter’s arm. “Back to the real world.” She smoothed a strand of honey-rich hair back up into the circlet of pink rosebuds that crowned DJ’s head. With the sides of her hair caught up in combs and curling down her back, DJ knew she looked almost grown-up, or was it more like a girl in general? She’d been surprised herself when she looked in the mirror. Not a zit in sight, and the bit of eyeshadow and mascara her mother had added to DJ’s green eyes had made them sparkle.
Gran slid her arm around DJ’s waist. “You looked so grown-up and lovely today, it made me cry. That and the wedding. I sure am glad the boys mananged to hold off that bug until after the ceremony. Kids come down with things so quickly.”
“You really think that’s what it was? Not just a brat fit?”
“You’d know if you’d felt their foreheads.” Gran looked deeply into DJ’s eyes. “Darlin’, what’s bothering you?” Typical Gran—she always knew.
DJ started to shake her head, but Gran’s squint caught her. The squint said, Come clean, kid.
Joe came up behind Gran and put his hands on her shoulders. “What’s up?” He, too, looked at DJ as if analyzing her expression.
They waited.
DJ shifted from one pinched foot to the other. Maybe things would feel better if she took her shoes off. She did so, holding up one offending low-heeled pump. “These.”
Gran shook her head, just enough to be noticeable. She leaned back, resting against Joe’s broad chest.
“And?”
DJ bit her lip, then rolled the bottom one up over the top. She stared at the shoe in her hand. “She didn’t even hug me good-bye.” The words hung in the air. DJ could feel the burning behind her eyes as her nose started to run. You are not going to cry. Get real! One less hug is no big deal. This isn’t the first time your mother didn’t hug you.
She sniffed.
“Oh, darlin.’” Joe and Gran wrapped her in their arms, just like she was the middle of a sandwich and they were the bread. “It was only an oversight. Lindy’s not used to dealing with sick boys, either. And you handle everything so well that …”
“That she just forgot.” Joe finished the sentence. “It doesn’t mean she loves you any less.”
“But it hurts just as bad … right?” Gran tipped DJ’s chin up so she could see her eyes. “I’m glad to know there have been enough hugs between the two of you lately that you miss one.”
DJ nodded. Being the middle of a sandwich felt mighty good right now.
“DJ, sorry to interrupt, but we need to get going.” Brad Atwood, DJ’s real—or rather biological—father, spoke from behind Joe.
“Thanks.” DJ hugged each of her grandparents and took a deep breath. With her smile back in place, she turned to Brad and his wife, Jackie.
“Sure wish you could come home with us,” Jackie said. “Stormy misses you.” Storm Clouds was the Arabian filly DJ had fought to keep alive during the flood at her father’s horse ranch a few weeks earlier.
“Maybe next weekend?” DJ glanced at Gran to catch a headshake. “Or the next.”
“I’ll call you.” Brad wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You sure do look lovely, all dressed up like this. When you walked down that aisle, both Jackie and I sniffed back tears.”
“You look just as good in jeans.” Jackie gave her a hug. “But please make sure we get a picture of you in your outfit. I took some myself, but the photographers always do a better job.”
DJ could feel her neck growing hot. She hugged them both again and watched them walk off to the Land Rover. Jackie had her arm through Brad’s and was laughing up at him. Talk about an awesome couple. Strange how God worked out the mess created when Brad first called DJ a couple of months ago to introduce himself. He was turning out to be a pretty cool dad after all. How come looking back made it easier to see God at work than looking forward? That was a question she’d have to ask Gran.
DJ slipped on her shoes again and headed back into the stucco buildi
ng to help collect the presents and visit with her relatives. “I’m coming,” she called in answer to her cousin Shawna’s beckoning wave. “But I’ve got to get these shoes off first.”
She didn’t just change her shoes. Stripping off the dress, she hung and straightened it on the padded hanger, then ran a finger down the satin fabric. It felt almost as good as a newly washed show horse.
“Get a move on, kid,” Andy called from the hall.
“Coming.” DJ pulled on her dress pants and buttoned her shirt. A sigh of relief escaped when she slid her feet into her tennis shoes. Back to real life.
With the whole family pitching in, the mountain of wrapped packages soon filled two vans, leaving barely enough room for the passengers. Once the caterers had the leftovers boxed and in the back of Joe’s Explorer, they all caravaned to DJ’s house. Leaving the presents mounded in the family room, the people—and food—headed for Gran and Joe’s.
“You think we can go over to the Academy later?” nine-year-old Shawna asked. She and DJ occupied the backseat of Joe’s car.
“Sure. I have to feed the horses.”
“I … I meant to ride,” Shawna added. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“DJ, quit teasing the girl.” Joe grinned at them from the rearview mirror. “Of course you can ride, kiddo. Major needs some extra exercise.”
“You sure are free in loaning out my horse.” Major had been Joe’s mount in the San Francisco Police Mounted Patrol, and DJ bought him when Joe retired.
“I can put her up on Ranger.”
“Sure, and let her get dumped.” DJ turned to Shawna. “You should have seen Joe chew dirt last week. And good old Ranger took off, racing around the arena. Good thing we weren’t out on the trail. That horse would still be running.”
Joe rotated his shoulder. “Yeah, I can still feel it. But he’d have gone back to the barn. He knows where the feed bucket lives.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it. That horse is one doughnut short of a dozen.”
“Or maybe two.” Shawna giggled along with DJ’s grin.
“All right, all three of my children,” Gran joined in.
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