High Hurdles Collection Two

by Lauraine Snelling

  “When is the Western part of the show?” Amy leaned forward from the backseat.

  “They will most likely have two or three rings at the same time, English in one and Western in the other. Then they sprinkle the odd classes either in between or have a separate arena for Harness, Sidesaddle, Costume, those kinds of things. You and Amy will both be riding at the same time in different rings. We’re going to be busy, that’s for sure.”

  On Saturday morning Stormy was a natural show-off, just as DJ had expected. The little filly kept her head up, ears pricked forward without prompting, and when the judge came by her, she stood perfectly still, only her slightly flaring nostrils showing her excitement.

  They trotted out with a blue ribbon fluttering from her halter. Once outside the ring, Stormy danced sideways, her eyes rolling a bit at the flapping ribbon.

  “You are such a cutie, how could they resist you?” DJ stroked down the chestnut shoulder and smoothed the furry mane that was now beginning to grow long enough to hang over to the side. Stormy nuzzled DJ’s pockets and got a carrot bit for a reward. As she munched, her dark eyes studied DJ as if trying to memorize every bit of her.

  Jackie had attached her red ribbon to her filly’s halter, and the four of them posed for pictures since both Amy and Brad had cameras.

  “I got several of them in the ring,” Amy said, snapping the lens cover back on her camera. “They were so much better behaved than the others that they would have won even if they didn’t have the best confirmation.”

  “Jackie has spent a lot of time with them.” Brad tickled Stormy’s upper lip, and she nibbled on his fingers.

  “You better watch out; she’ll think those fingers are strange-colored carrots.” Jackie patted Stormy’s neck and rubbed her ears. “I love working with the babies, seeing them get used to the halter and being handled. This Stormy, she’s a smart one. We do something once and she remembers, unless, of course, she’s in a contrary mood. Then it’s over.”

  “So how do you keep her in a happy mood?” DJ kept on petting her baby.

  “Carrots, that’s the secret. She’ll do anything for carrots, like a dog will do anything for a piece of meat.” Jackie glanced at her watch. “You’ll have to take Stormy back out for the championship, but we better hustle. We have two up in the two-year-old filly class. It’s a shame we couldn’t bring the gray for the yearlings.”

  “He’s just not growing enough to compete well,” Brad said to Amy and DJ. “He’ll make a good riding horse or show horse later on, but not a breeder.” He led the way back to the barn. “Deej, you want to show one of the two-year-olds?”

  “Sure.”

  At noon the English classes started, and DJ trotted into the ring more times than she cared to count. She and Amy met on the way in and out of the barn where the stablehand and Jackie groomed each horse.

  At the end of the day, the ribbon board in front of Gladstone Farms had garnered a fair showing of blues and several championship rosettes.

  “I’ve ridden more different horses today than in all my life put together.” Amy rolled her head around on her shoulders and stretched it from one side to the other. The director’s chairs they occupied faced the door of the tack room, and streams of people roamed the aisles outside. Jackie and Brad greeted old friends and introduced the girls, in addition to answering questions about the horses they’d brought to show.

  Matadorian, Brad’s principal breeding stallion, arched his neck over the doorway as if he were the official greeter. His broad, dished forehead and intelligent eyes, with a forelock that swung down on his nose, announced his fine Arabian breeding through and through. No wonder he had taken the grand champion in the Halter classes.

  “You want to go back to the hotel?” Jackie asked a bit later. “I can take you over and come back. Brad wants us to meet with a very interested buyer, so we might be late.”

  “Sure.” DJ covered a yawn with her open palm. “Sorry.”

  After they’d had a swim and changed into their nightshirts, DJ and Amy sat cross-legged, facing each other on the two queen-size beds in their room. They tossed the bag of chips back and forth and had to reach for the soda cans sitting on the bedside table.

  “So,” Amy took another swallow from her can, “tell me again what Ms. Gant wants you to do?”

  “She wants me to go to high school in San Francisco—you know that one where kids who want to study any area in the arts go?”

  “Like if I wanted to be a serious photographer, I could go there.”

  DJ looked at Amy, the thought making her bounce on the bed. “Would you?”

  “I’ve thought about it.”

  “You never said anything.” DJ popped another chip in her mouth.

  “I know. It was more like a dream, a fantasy. There’s no way my parents could afford something like that. And besides, I’m probably not good enough.”

  DJ studied her friend. “Do you really want to be a photographer when you grow up?”

  “I already am one.”

  “Like I’m an artist.”

  “Right. Besides, what if our card line really gets big? We need to get better and better at what we do to keep up with it.”

  DJ snagged her can and sipped. “You really think it could?”

  Amy shrugged. “Seems to me it’s already on the way. Like my dad says, now we’ve got to get smart if we want it to keep growing.”

  DJ studied her friend through slitted eyes. She ran her tongue over her teeth and dislodged a bit of potato chip. What if both of them went to the artsy high school? Was there a way she could get enough riding time in, too? Were both of her dreams possible?

  Chapter • 8

  “Someday I’d like to ride in a Costume class,” DJ said Sunday morning. They were back at the show.

  “Me too.” Amy sighed. “He’s like something out of the movies.” Together they watched Brad and Matadorian sweep around the ring, full Bedouin robes billowing in the breeze. Brad’s dark tan made him look almost Arabian since the white burnous cinched down by a red braided cord covered his brown hair. The tassels hanging from Matadorian’s bridle and silver buckles caught the sunlight with their red and gold threads.

  When the judge awarded them first place, the girls and everyone else applauded.

  Later, under harness and pulling a phaeton, Matadorian flashed his way around the ring again to another blue. This time Brad wore a top hat and frock coat with a jabot so snowy it glistened. DJ and Amy met them coming out of the ring.

  “You were super.” DJ stroked Matadorian’s nose, his flaring nostrils showing a bit of pink. “You work hard out there, don’t you, fella?” The stallion nodded and snuffled DJ’s hand.

  “You’ve got him under your spell, DJ. Talk about a ham, there. Matty, old boy, she loves Herndon best, and don’t you forget it.”

  DJ laughed. “Now if only Herndon loved me best.”

  “Oh, he will, one of these days. Some horses just take longer to adjust. He was that way when Jackie got him, too. He’s just more businesslike.”

  “Snobby is what he means,” DJ said to Amy, and both girls laughed.

  “You guys want to learn to drive, too?” Brad lifted the reins.

  “Really?”

  “Sure, come on, there’s room for both of you up here.” Brad patted the seat beside him. “It’s not much different than in the saddle, but the reins are longer.” He handed DJ the reins. “Now, if you had four up, you’d thread the reins through your fingers, but with one or two, it’s like riding single rein.”

  DJ clucked and twitched the reins as she’d seen her father do, and Matadorian walked forward with a snappy stride. She drove him back to the barn and handed the reins to Amy. “Your turn.”

  Amy drove them around the barns and stopped in front of their own. “Thanks, that was fun.”

  “Okay, now you have to unharness him and put your tack away.”

  DJ and Amy groaned. “Now I know why you let us drive.”

  “Met
hod to my madness, huh?” Brad showed them what to do, and once the harness was off, he led the horse back to his stall. DJ and Amy wiped down the harness and then the buggy so it could be covered with a tarp and loaded into the back of the horse van.

  “Okay, you girls ready?” Jackie asked when everything was loaded.

  “Sure ’nough.” DJ glanced around the tack room one more time just in case they left anything. She climbed in the front seat of the Land Rover and waved good-bye one last time to Brad, who drove the pickup pulling the trailer full of tack boxes, stall and tack room decorations, and the two little fillies tied in the other stall. Ramone, Brad’s ranch foreman, had already pulled out with the horse van.

  Both DJ and Amy fell asleep halfway home, waking up when the car stopped in front of Amy’s house.

  “Thank you for all your help,” Jackie said, handing her an envelope.

  “What’s this?” Amy questioned.

  “Just a little thank-you from Brad and me. This show was more fun for us than any we’ve done, and that was thanks to you two. We hope you can do this again sometime.”

  “I’d love to. Thanks.” Amy tapped DJ on the shoulder. “See you at seven-thirty at the barns, right?”

  DJ groaned. “No. Joe is doing mornings ’cause I’m doing evenings. I get to sleep in.”

  “Lucky.” Amy climbed out of the car and reached back in for her duffel and backpack. “See you, Jackie, and thanks again.”

  DJ stifled another yawn as they pulled up to her house. She should be wide awake after sleeping like she had. “Sorry we weren’t better company, Jackie. Every time I get in a car lately, I fall asleep. You want to come in?”

  “I think I’ll head on up the road. Santa Rosa is still a couple of hours away, and I’d like to be home before midnight. At least I won’t have to help unload tonight.” She handed DJ an envelope, too. When DJ started to shake her head, Jackie leaned toward her. “Listen, you two worked hard for us, and if we want to give you something in return, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, okay?”

  “All right, but—”

  “No buts. I’ll see you on Wednesday when we pick up Herndon to take him to the airport. You excited about USET camp?”

  “I will be.” DJ swallowed the butterflies that immediately swarmed like a hive of bees. She took a deep breath and let it out. “I had to get school and this show over first before I could think about camp.”

  “I wish I could stay there with you, but I know you’ll have a great time. Oh, and think about that art school. There must be some way we can work it all out.”

  Oh man, I’d rather not just now. DJ nodded and slammed the car door. She waved as the Land Rover left her drive. Dragging her things into the house, she felt as though she could sleep for a week.

  “So how did you do?” Lindy called from the living room, where she’d been snoozing on the sofa. She stretched and yawned as DJ entered the room.

  “Stormy and I took a blue, and Jackie the red. I’m not even sure what all else I got, I did so many classes. Jackie and Brad let us do all the riding, other than Matadorian. You should have seen him in the Costume class. He was totally awesome.”

  “Your father or the horse?” Lindy brushed her hair back behind her ears.

  “Both.” DJ grinned. “Where’s Dad?” While it still felt strange sometimes to call Robert “Dad,” it was becoming more natural all the time.

  “Gone to bed. He was beat.” She patted the sofa beside her. “You hungry, thirsty?”

  “Nope. We ate, and then Amy and I slept most of the way home.”

  “Sean called. I told him you’d call back tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.” DJ leaned against the sofa back. “Showing strange horses was really fun. Not strange, you know, but different.”

  “I figured that out. Brad wouldn’t own strange horses.”

  “Jackie asked if I was excited about USET camp, and I about freaked. Inside, anyway. I didn’t really want her to know.”

  “Why?”

  “M-o-m, that camp is clear across the United States, and …” She paused, trying to decide what to say.

  “And?” Lindy waited quietly.

  “And … and I won’t know anyone there at all.”

  “You’ll make friends quickly.”

  “But … but what if I don’t?” The words came out in a whisper.

  “Ah, Darla Jean, you are always so capable that we forget sometimes you are still a girl, just barely fifteen.” Lindy leaned over and pulled her daughter close. “I, for one, will miss you, and the twins are already groaning about your being gone. They asked their dad tonight who would give them their riding lessons while you were gone.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said you’d give them an extra one this week to make up in advance.”

  DJ smiled. “Good plan. Thanks a big fat bunch. Besides, I’ll be gone a week.”

  “They haven’t figured that out yet.”

  DJ left her head on her mother’s shoulder. Lindy’s perfume teased her nose and made her wonder if someday she, too, would find a perfume she liked and wear it all the time like her mother did. But for now, “eau de horse” would have to do. She turned and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Night. I’m about to crash and burn.”

  “Tomorrow we work on cards?”

  “Sure. In the morning since I don’t have school. But please, please keep the boys from waking me. I finally get a chance to sleep in.”

  Lindy chuckled as she got to her feet. “Okay, but close your door. They were hoping you’d be home before bedtime. They’ve been missing you.”

  “And me them.” DJ shook her head. “You know what? I never thought I’d think something like that.”

  Lindy nodded. “Yeah, I do know, and ain’t it grand?”

  “DJ, wake up!”

  “Go away. I’m sleeping until I wake up myself.”

  “Okay, but I’ve got some great news, and it’s after ten already.” Lindy sat down on the end of DJ’s bed.

  DJ groaned. “Go away.”

  “Mommy, is DJ sick?” The voice tried to whisper but failed as usual.

  Queenie leaped up on the bed and stuck her cold nose into DJ’s face. After a lightning-quick tongue lick, she gave a sharp, high bark.

  “Sheesh, why didn’t you bring General along, too?” DJ stuck her head under the pillow.

  “We’ll go get him.” Both boys bailed off the bed, and thundering footsteps headed for the door.

  “No!” DJ threw back the covers and sat up. “You can’t bring your horse up here.”

  “Thank you for clarifying that.” Lindy leaned back, her hands clasped around a raised knee.

  “I know, I have to remember sarcasm doesn’t work with those two.” DJ tried to glare at her mother but yawned instead. “All right, I’m awake. I thought you said you’d let me sleep all day if I wanted.”

  “I said that?” Lindy’s grin said she remembered but wasn’t admitting it. “Besides, I’ve got such exciting news I thought you’d want to hear it.”

  “It better be really exciting. Like we won the lottery or something.”

  “Well, I think it’s exciting, and so did Robert.” She rocked back and forth, her slip-on sandal flapping against her foot.

  “If you don’t tell me now, I’m going back to sleep.”

  “As if you could.” Lindy pulled a letter out of her shorts pocket. “Read this.”

  DJ took the envelope and pulled out a letter. She read the first paragraph and threw her arms around her mother. “They want your book! Wow! They want your book.”

  For almost a year Lindy had talked about writing a book about young entrepreneurs, using DJ and Amy as her inspiration. Now that Lindy wasn’t working anymore, she had the time to fulfill her dream.

  “Well, at least they want to see more of it. Now I’ve got to get the proposal going, and Mom says I should look for an agent.” She took the letter back and read it again. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  DJ looked
down where the boys and dog were rolling on the floor, laughing and barking like usual. “My mother is going to be a writer.”

  “Is a writer already. Going for author.”

  “Just think, Gran is an illustrator, you’re a writer, and I’m an artist.” DJ scrubbed her fingers through her hair.

  “Such talent, huh?” Lindy patted her daughter’s knee. “Maria is making strawberry waffles for brunch, so get a hustle on, okay?”

  “We’re hungry.” At the mention of food, the boys’ ears had perked up and they leaped to their feet. “Come on, DJ. We’ll race you.”

  DJ swung her feet to the floor. “Give me twenty minutes, okay? If I don’t wash my hair, it might all fall out.”

  The boys plowed to a stop. “You have nice hair. Don’t let it fall out.”

  “Beat it, guys.” DJ looked at her mother and shook her head. “Sheesh.”

  “I’ll call Amy to come over, too. We’ve got some business to negotiate.”

  “What?”

  “Take your shower.”

  DJ rushed through her shower and combed her wet hair back into a ponytail. She jogged down the stairs just as Amy rang the doorbell.

  “What’s up?” Amy asked. The two of them walked into the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively.

  “Got me. Mom has great news—a publisher wants to see more of her young entrepreneurs book.”

  “Cool. Did you tell them that the showgrounds in Davis wants more of our cards?”

  “Nope, forgot.”

  “You sit.” Maria pointed at the table, decorated with a fruit plate, fresh squeezed orange juice in the good crystal glasses, and a platter of little pigs sausages. Bobby already had one sausage ready to pop into his mouth, but his father’s glare stopped him.

  “Grace first.” Robert pulled out Lindy’s chair, motioned DJ and Amy to the other side, and prayed.

  “Start with juice and fruit.” Maria set a waffle topped with strawberries and a ring of whipped cream in front of Lindy.

  “Maria, do you want me to gain all my weight today?” Lindy speared a fresh strawberry. “Oh my.”