High Hurdles Collection Two

by Lauraine Snelling

  “How come you gripe all the time about how grouchy your mom is? I think she’s cool.”

  “She’s different now that she’s not working.” While DJ hadn’t thought much about that, she realized how true it was. She hadn’t been barked at in a week, but then, who was counting?

  Tuesday night when Brad called to say the meeting was set up for Sunday afternoon, she had to swallow twice before she could answer. “B-but I planned to ride up in Briones if the weather’s okay.”

  “I think this is more important, don’t you?”

  Maybe to you, but I haven’t been up in the park for weeks. First it was storming, then I was on restrictions, and since then I haven’t even had time to blow my nose.`

  “DJ?”

  “I’m here. I’ll see you on Sunday, then.” She stormed down to the kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d talked to Brad?”

  Lindy’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “I have to tell you all my phone calls now?”

  “No! Just that one.” DJ locked her arms across her chest.

  “You don’t want us to get together?”

  “No, it’s not that. I … Joe and I have that jumping clinic in Sacramento on Saturday. And on Sunday I was hoping to go riding and …”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Make up your mind, Darla Jean. You want us to support you, but on your terms, is that it?”

  “No, but …” Why did she feel like crying? She swallowed hard. She started to say “I just never have any time for my stuff” but stopped that by coughing.

  With her mother watching her, DJ felt like a mouse must when a cat has it by the tail and is playing with it.

  “It’s not easy, you know, trying to schedule something with so many people. That was the only time Robert and Bridget had available. Gran and Joe think this is so important that they turned down a dinner invitation with some friends, and you would rather go riding up in Briones?”

  DJ sniffed. Put like that, she sounded like the most selfish, babyish brat in the country. “Sorry.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her room. The room that felt too big and too fancy and too … Just like the rest of the house. Just like the rest of … She threw herself across the fancy comforter that wasn’t much comfort at all. Her old one, the one Gran had made for her, absorbed tears much better. What was the matter with her?

  Even Thursday evening spent listening to Gran and Joe’s adventures in New York made her feel good only for a little while. Gran’s trophy was awesome, and the huge framed picture of her book cover was glorious. So why’d she feel like crying—again!

  Friday morning she found out. Three zits and her period.

  “You going to have PMS like your mother?” She glared at the pimply face in the bathroom mirror. “Fiddle and double fiddle.” She scrubbed her face raw. Her hair stuck out all over and wouldn’t be tamed. “My period, zits, and a bad hair day. What else can go wrong?”

  “My, aren’t we Miss Cheerful this morning.” Lindy turned from scrambling eggs. “Slamming doors won’t make things better.”

  Neither will kicking walls, but that’s what I feel like doing. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Eat anyway.” Lindy set the plate on the table and pointed at the chair.

  DJ slumped in the seat and glared at the pale yellow pile of guck on her plate. Her mother had even put bacon in it, one of DJ’s favorite breakfast foods. And melted cheese on top. She looked up at her mother’s stern face and took a forkful of eggs. Halfway to her mouth, some fell off and bounced from her shirt to the floor, leaving a grease stain on its way.

  If DJ were a cussing person, this was the time for it.

  “Fiddle!” she said—and thought worse.

  “Darla Jean Randall, what’s the matter with you?” Lindy glared at her daughter. Suddenly her face relaxed. “Ah, the PMS bug has bit.”

  DJ swallowed her bite of scrambled eggs. “Yes! And it’s all your fault. I’m just like you!”

  A car horn honked. She scooped up the last bite and stuck the remaining corner of toast between her lips. Snagging her jacket and backpack off the chair knob, she headed for the front door, her mother still laughing behind her.

  “Hope you’re feeling better by the time you come home, Miss Merry Sunshine,” Lindy called after her. The boys shouted their good-byes, and DJ escaped out the door.

  Chapter • 9

  How could she be hearing the alarm when she’d just closed her eyes?

  “DJ.” A tap on her door.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you up? You’re supposed to be over at the Academy in ten minutes. Didn’t your alarm go off?”

  DJ groaned. She did remember it ringing. Did she smack the Off button instead of Snooze?

  The jumping clinic!

  Her feet hit the floor before her eyes finished opening. “Thanks, Robert. I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes. Isn’t Joe picking me up here?”

  “He called and asked me to bring you to the Academy. Said he wanted an early start.”

  Finally the jumping clinic in Sacramento, and DJ had overslept. How could you be so stupid! DJ yelled inwardly. She pulled on her jeans and sweat shirt. So much for needing a shower. Thank the good Lord for hair long enough to wear in a ponytail. By the time she’d brushed her teeth and washed her face, the ten minutes were about up. She stuffed her supplies into her duffel bag, including her boots and helmet. A glance through the vertical blinds showed stars up above. Clear weather at least.

  They would have about an hour and a half drive to Sacramento, and the clinic started at 8:30. No wonder Joe was up before the sun even thought about lightening the eastern horizon. Of course, she couldn’t see the sunrise—not only did her room face west, but the high range of hills just east of them blocked much of the early dawn.

  Robert handed her an apple, a food bar, and a juice box when she climbed into the front seat of the already running vehicle. “You need the nourishment. I’m sure Gran packed extra food for both you and Joe, but this is my contribution.”

  “Thanks. I can’t believe I overslept.”

  “I’m glad Dad called, or we all would have been snoozing still.”

  DJ wanted nothing more than to tip her seat back and grab a few more Zs. Instead, she ate the food Robert handed her and tried to keep from breaking her jaw yawning. At least she and Joe were going alone to Sacramento so she could sleep. Joe wouldn’t mind.

  Bunny was leading her horse into the trailer beside Major when they drove into the Academy parking lot.

  DJ groaned.

  “Now what?” Robert looked to where she pointed. “So?”

  “Forget it. Thanks for the ride. See you tonight.” She opened the door, taking the last sip of the juice as her feet hit the gravel. Robert held out his hand, so she gave him the empty container. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.” She did manage to smile on that one.

  “At least I get to go home and sleep awhile longer.”

  “With your luck, the twins will be up already.”

  Robert rolled his eyes and nodded. “I hope you’re wrong. Have a good time.”

  DJ waved again and ambled to the trailer, where she could hear Bunny talking to her horse. Major nickered from his side of the silver-and-green rig.

  “I thought I might have to come roll you out,” Joe said, coming around the side of the trailer. “I think I have all of your equipment, but you better check.”

  “How come … ?” DJ whispered and nodded toward the trailer.

  “She’s having trouble with her truck. I offered.”

  “Oh.” What could she say? Joe was just being Joe. But now there would be three of them in the cab and no chance to sleep. Besides, she liked the time with Joe—by herself. But another thought made her brighten. At least now he wouldn’t be able to grill her on any of their unfinished discussions. He had a better memory than an elephant. And sometimes

  DJ just wanted to forget, especially when he cut to the quick, which was most of the time.

  With
in minutes they were on the road, with Bunny apologizing for intruding.

  “Hey, it’s not like we didn’t have room or anything, is it, DJ?” Joe gave her a nudge with his elbow.

  “Nope. No sense taking two rigs, anyway. If I’d known you were going, I’d have asked you along.” She could feel her grandfather’s approval right through her jacket. “Didn’t you go last week?”

  “Yes. That’s why I registered for today, too. He was so good. If I learn as much again today as I did then, it’ll be more than worth the time.”

  “I know I’ll learn a lot.”

  Between watching other students and her turn with the trainer, DJ learned two really important things. Number one: She had so much to learn. And number two: All trainers were not the same. And having Bunny in the stands beside her helped her even more.

  “So was that so bad?” Joe turned the ignition when they were ready to leave the Academy.

  “No. How come Bunny could be so fun and funny today, but around the Academy she’s always so serious?” DJ slid far enough down on her spine that she could prop her knees against the dashboard. “Nobody ever sees this side of her.”

  “People are strange. Maybe things are getting better for her.”

  “I guess.”

  “So are you looking forward to the big meeting tomorrow?”

  DJ groaned. “Thanks for reminding me. Not to change the subject or anything, but do you think all that jumping bothered Major’s shoulder any?”

  “Why? Did you feel him act different?”

  “No … yes … I’m not sure.” She thought back to the jumps they’d taken and retaken. Had he been a bit hesitant? Or was it just that she’d been concentrating on Gray’s instructions to the point of not paying as close attention to Major as usual?

  “We’ll watch him carefully for the next few days. You know, that clinic helped me today, too.”

  DJ shot him a sideways look. “How? You don’t plan to start jumping Ranger now, do you?”

  “No, nothing like that, but I guess I never quite realized how much goes into training a jumper. Or riding one.” He shook his head. “Major has a lot to learn.”

  “Me too.”

  “Some guy sitting up behind me thought you did real well. Said if you had a decent horse, you’d go a long way.”

  “Decent horse! What kind of a jerk was he? Major took every jump and never balked once.” DJ’s heels hit the floorboards. “Good thing I didn’t hear him, or I’d have—”

  “Easy. You have to keep in mind that Major’s just an old police horse. He wasn’t born and bred for jumping like these big-time horses are.”

  “Major’s got more heart than all of them put together. There never will be a more willing horse than him.”

  “Heart he has. Class he lacks.” Joe patted her knee. “You’ve got to be realistic here, so quit sputtering.”

  “Major’s the best horse any girl could have. …”

  “Sure he is—in the beginning. People who compete outgrow their horses. Look at Jackie and Herndon.”

  DJ rolled her lips together. “Major’s really special.”

  “He sure is, and so are you. Just trying to prepare you. See you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for taking me. And taking notes.” She waved the clipboard with his even handwriting covering several pages. “Bridget will be glad to see these, too.” She waved again as he backed into the paved strip they used for a turnaround.

  The thought of the mountain of homework that awaited her turned her feet to cement. Not that the stack was so high, just that her book report was due on Monday and she had half a book to go. She’d rather be reading The Man Who Listens to Horses, but since she’d already started this one, she figured she’d finish it. Besides, half of that one was much shorter than the whole of the other.

  “So how did it go?” Robert asked. He glanced up at her but continued to wield his flashing chef’s knife, turning carrots into skinny ovals.

  “Good, I guess. My brain’s still spinning.” DJ snuck a couple of carrot slices. “That man has eyes better than an eagle’s. And I thought Bridget was tough.” She hung a hip on one of the stools by the green marble-topped counter. “What are you making?”

  “Stew.” Lindy turned from the stove, where she was browning the meat. “Bridget phoned a bit ago. Wanted you to call her at home if you got back later than six.”

  DJ glanced at the clock. Six-thirty. “Did she say what she wanted?”

  “Nope. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

  Robert shook his head. “I’ll never get used to these pressure cookers. Stew is supposed to simmer all afternoon.” He started scrubbing potatoes.

  “Then we couldn’t have gone puppy hunting.”

  “Puppy hunting? Did you find one?” DJ snitched a couple more carrot pieces.

  “Look, you eat all those up and you can cut more.” Robert pointed the vegetable brush at her. “And the answer is maybe. We’re thinking we should look at the Humane Society before we decide. Or check with ARF.”

  “That’s the Animal Rescue Foundation,” Lindy said at DJ’s confused look.

  “You mean we’d get a used dog?” DJ popped a carrot in her mouth.

  “Darla Jean Randall, what a thing to say.” But Lindy chuckled as she said it.

  “Nope, recycled.”

  “Robert!”

  “Just so it’s not a hot dog.” DJ slid off the stool, grabbed some more carrots, and fled the room, her mother’s laughter chasing her out the door. She turned and stuck her head back around the wall. “Where are the boys? I knew things were too quiet here.”

  “Next door at the neighbors’. Which reminds me, they’re supposed to be home by dark.”

  DJ hustled up the stairs before her mother could suggest she go get them. Nice to know there were kids in the neighborhood for the boys to play with. That hadn’t been the case at their other house.

  Just thinking the words other house made her wish for the cozy family room and the bedroom that had been hers all her life. She pushed open the door to her new room. Sure it was beautiful—but it still wasn’t the same. She dumped her stuff and headed for the bathroom. A shower would feel mighty good.

  Call Bridget. DJ stopped at her desk and picked up the phone. Bridget answered on the first ring.

  “Mom said you called.”

  “First, I want to thank you for taking Bunny along. Second, how was the clinic?”

  DJ gave her a play-by-play account and finished with the stranger’s comment about Major.

  “He is right. But this year Major will be sufficient.”

  “Oh.” DJ knew better than to argue with Bridget.

  After hanging up the phone, she stopped in the bathroom doorway and eyed the Jacuzzi tub. She hadn’t even had time to turn it on yet. “You can read and relax at the same time.” She nodded at the face in the mirror. The one with a sunburned nose. Turning on the water, she hummed a tune as she retrieved her book and robe. She pinned up her hair, and when the tub was full enough, flipped the switch for the jets.

  The tub roared into life, water swirling and burbling. Sinking down into the hot water with the jets sending pulses of water at her back, sides, and feet felt absolutely delicious. She trailed a hand past one of the jets, the bubbles massaging her fingers.

  Maybe there were good things about this new house after all.

  Except that she nearly fell asleep reading her book. She caught it just as the bottom edge hit the water.

  “DJ, dinner’s ready.” Her mother knocked on the bathroom door and called at the same time. She stuck her head around the door. “Kind of nice, huh?”

  “I’ll say.” DJ sat up and flipped the switch so the jets swooshed silent. “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, ’kay?”

  “John Yamamoto is going to watch the boys,” Lindy said the next afternoon as they got ready to head to Gran’s for the meeting. “If you two want to walk over now, I’ll come when he gets here. Mom might need some help with so
mething.”

  Robert nodded. “You get the salad out of the fridge, and I’ll bring the sack of chips and dips.”

  DJ did as he asked. How come right now she’d rather go hide out in the closet than go to the meeting? Talk about butterflies. Horse shows were nothing compared to this.

  Chapter • 10

  They talked about her as if she were invisible.

  “Yes,” Bridget responded in answer to a question, “I believe DJ has the capabilities to become an Olympic rider, but there are many variables that can happen between now and then. One of the good things about the equestrian program is that age is not the governing principle as in other sports. DJ does not have to be a star by age sixteen. In fact, the chances of that happening are slim to none. Skill and experience both play such a strong part that there are many years of training and competing ahead of her—expensive years.”

  “And she has to have the right horses,” Brad added.

  “The right horses and the right sponsors. Many of the Olympic riders have corporate sponsors these days. But all of that is far in the future.”

  “I hate to show my ignorance, but what are those world-class horses running nowadays?” Robert cut to the bottom line.

  “You don’t really want to know.” Joe shook his head. “Bunny and I were talking yesterday. It’s six figures and up.”

  Maybe I should just slide down on the floor and slither out of here. Hey, guys, this is my life you’re discussing. As soon as that thought surfaced, another kicked in. Go ahead, be an ungrateful brat. They’re trying to help you.

  She sat more firmly on her hands.

  “So where do we go from here?” Robert asked.

  “DJ is doing her best to learn all she can. Horses respond well to her. Patches is a good example of that. Few others could have brought him along as fast as she did.”

  DJ felt a glow all the way to her toenails. Bridget really thought that? And here she thought Patches was way behind.

  “She is consistent, remembers what she has learned, and is learning more and more how to focus. And how to not tear herself down.” Bridget looked around the group. “On the other hand, she is young and has not been exposed to the world of competitive showing. There are a lot of politics out there, and some dirty things going on, too.”