by Andrea Young
Chapter Two
PANIC SHOT ADRENALINE THROUGH JOE’S VEINS, letting him run despite the pain. He needed to get far, fast. With no moon, the night was black, making it near impossible to see but perfect for hiding.
Rain had poured all day and, though it wasn’t raining now, Joe was soaking wet. The underbrush and the trees in the forest were dripping, and moving through them was as drenching as rain itself.
Without losing sight of the road, Joe moved as far off the highway as he could. Once certain he was hidden, he slumped to the ground and clutched his throbbing knee and prayed it wasn’t broken.
The night wasn’t cold, but Joe hugged his jacket closed and said a silent prayer. He wiped his eyes and would have liked to blame his wet face on the rain, but he was scared. He didn’t know where he was or what to do next.
Sitting very still, hardly breathing, Joe listened. Nothing but crickets, bullfrogs, and other noises from the night. What he didn’t want to hear was the sound of a rough-idling, diesel pickup coming back to find him once it was discovered he was gone.
After a deep breath, Joe pushed himself back to his feet. He had to get farther away. Pain shot through his knee in protest. He rubbed his leg and searched through the dark mass of trees. Bears and wolves hunted at night, and he didn’t intend to be an easy target.
The underbrush was thick and full of thorns, making it impossible to navigate. If he were to get anywhere, he would have to take a chance and travel by the road.
Mud and a bad leg made getting back up the slope difficult, but Joe made it and found himself next to a railroad crossing. Behind him, lights were nearing, but it was a semi, not a pickup. A loud bell began to clang. A moment later, crossing lights lit up the night. Joe ducked down in the tall grass and scanned the area. The long wooden rails made to block the tracks began to descend. The semi, with air brakes loudly engaging, slowed and eased to a stop at the barrier. Joe saw it was, of all things, a horse trailer. The biggest, most fancy one he’d ever seen. Painted on the side was a horse jumping through a large silver spur. It was a sign, Joe thought; it had to be. From his hiding place he quickly limped toward the rig. There were multiple storage lockers in the front. If any one of them was open he’d be home free. The ringing stopped; Joe knew the truck would soon move. The first door was locked. He looked over. The gates were lifting. The second door was locked, too. The truck powered up. The third handle moved more than the rest but didn’t open. The truck began to roll. Joe grabbed with both hands and yanked. The door flew open and Joe jumped in without a second to spare. He closed the door and found himself in complete darkness, but Joe didn’t care. The feeling of the truck moving farther and farther away was all he needed.
Chapter Three
LIGHT BLUSHED PINK AND BLUE ACROSS THE sky. Finny was up before the sun. After a quick glass of orange juice and a breakfast bar, she headed off to her new horse. The entire two-mile jog to the trailer was filled with worry. What if he had escaped during the night? Where would he go? Would he know how to get back home? Finny was doing her best to stay positive. Don’t be a negative ninny Finny, her dad always said, thinking that was funny.
One mile to go. Finny picked up the pace. She had planned to get there early enough to take him out before the neighbors noticed a horse in a yard meant for a dog.
When she arrived, the gate to the yard was still closed. Thank God, she thought as she opened the latch. She was even more relieved when she saw Sky standing there unharmed. Her happiness immediately morphed into dread when she saw the yard. It was destroyed. The ground was completely dug up. The siding on the trailer had large strips torn away. Apparently, Sky, bored with eating grass, worked on the walls. The small porch roof tipped down at a precarious angle, one corner post having been knocked off. Finny hid her face in her hands. How could she ever explain this? She felt warm air on her fingers. When she peeked through them she found Sky standing in front of her, blowing his warm breath on her hands. That instant he was forgiven.
After a quick look to make sure no one was watching, Finny snapped the lead on his halter and brought Sky out as fast as she could. It was still early and Finny was confident she and Sky hadn’t been spotted as they made their way out of the trailer park.
Next door to Silver Spur Equestrian Center was a retirement and rescue home for abused and neglected horses. Finny had never met Vel Moore, the owner, but had heard she was a really nice lady who liked kids and loved horses. Finny was going to take a chance, show up on Vel’s doorstep, and beg to work off Sky’s board. As pitiful as he looked, Finny figured there was a chance.
The hazy coolness of the morning was disappearing as the temperature rose with the sun. Sky barely moved. Finny figured he must have worn himself out running around all night. She looked at his horribly cracked and neglected hooves and hoped it wouldn’t hurt him to walk the two miles to the horse rescue.
Patting the horse’s low-slung head, she wondered what was going through his mind. If he knew what was happening, was he happy or sad? She stroked him again and told him she was sure there was a champion amidst all those bones.
As much as she loved to ride, Finny lived to jump. When Chester had said Sky’s mother was a World Cup horse, her heart had skipped a beat. She pictured them jumping giant oxers at national competitions, Sky fat and shiny with a jump so powerful it’d be like flying without wings. The mere thought gave her chills. Finny longed to compete in horse shows like the other girls. She longed to accomplish great things with horses. Not just to prove to everyone at Silver Spur she was just as good. She needed to prove it to herself.
The Azure Hills sign—depicting beautiful rolling green hills dotted with shiny horses—was in view. In California the hills were green for only a few weeks in spring. Azure Hills was still beautiful, but its rolling hills were gold.
With a firm shove, Finny opened the gate that hung from the one working hinge. She hadn’t considered what to do if the lady said no. She can’t say no, Finny told herself, tying Sky’s lead to the hitching post. She walked to the house and knocked on the door.
“Hello,” Vel Moore said, after pushing open her screen door. Finny saw right away Vel wasn’t Chesterold. In her forties was her guess, with sun-weathered skin, typical of a lifelong horse-person. Gray in her hair, which wasn’t colored because there was feed to buy and stalls to clean, made her look older than she was.
“Yes, um, my name is Finny, and I got a horse and nowhere to keep him. I was sorta wondering if I could work here for his board?”
“Well, this is a first.” Vel looked genuinely surprised by the request.
“Sorry to bother you so early.”
“No problem, I was up. How old are you?”
“Fourteen, almost fifteen.” Vel pondered Finny’s request, fingers drumming her hip. “I could use some help, to tell you the truth.” Vel, looking over Finny’s shoulder, spotted Sky. “Oh my.” She came out of her house and down the steps to check out the horse.
“This is Sky. I got him yesterday. . . . They won’t let me take him next door like I planned.” Vel eyed Sky before turning her attention back to Finny. “This horse is going to need a lot of care, and veterinary attention, and his feet—they’re a mess. He’s going to take more than work. He’s going to take money.”
“I have some money saved up so I can have the vet look at him.”
“Where did you get him?”
“Crazy Chester. He’s going to an old folks home and can’t keep him.”
“Oh. Well, lucky for you, I guess . . . ” Vel scratched the back of her head. “Is this horse rideable?”
“Once I get him fixed up, I’m going to break him.”
“Break him? How old is he?”
“Twelve.”
Vel let out an unsure chuckle.
“Okay. I have a quarantine stall you can put him in for now. He’ll have to stay there at least two weeks to make sure he isn’t carrying something like strangles that can make the other horses sick. And I have so
me bad news for you. The patches of missing hair that look like mange are ringworm. We’ll treat it, but you can get it, too, so wash your hands after you handle him, and it can take a long time to clear up, so be ready.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I’ll work hard here, Vel. I swear I won’t let you down.”
Vel led Finny past her modest yellow house to the back of the property where the barn, corrals, and pastures were located. Finny looked around, taking it all in. She had only seen Azure Hills from afar. Jeff Hastings called it a dump and an eyesore.
The Azure Hills property was twenty acres. It started narrow at the front and the farther back you went, the wider it got. The fence that bordered Silver Spur was gleaming white. The rest of the Azure Hills fence line was in desperate need of paint.
“Here is the quarantine pen. He can see other horses from here, just can’t touch them.”
Finny led Sky into a small wooded corral with a runin shed for shelter. It was near the house, surrounded by trees but several hundred feet from the barn and other corrals. Vel went to the feed room and brought back a small flake of grass hay and dropped it in the feeder. Sky sniffed at the hay, but wasn’t interested in eating.
“Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
Vel waved her to follow. Finny took one last look over her shoulder and hoped Sky would try to eat.
“The barn here has twenty stalls.” Finny followed Vel through the breezeway of the barn. The structure was old and the dark wood had bleached to blond. There were holes in several of the walls and chew marks on all the doors but it was clean. The fresh shavings in the stalls, clear water in the buckets, and good quality hay in the feeders told Finny Vel was very diligent about her horse care.
“Where are the horses?” Finny asked because the barn was empty.
“I have eight horses in the back pastures. They were all rescues. I have my two retired horses and an old pony that’s blind in the pasture next to them. The pony was a rescue, too.”
“Poor pony. He’s okay with other horses?”
“He sure is. He’s the boss out there. I’ll show you what I mean.” Vel took a carrot from her pocket and led Finny out of the barn toward the back of the property. Finny could see Azure Hills ended at the base of the mountain just like Silver Spur.
Vel’s pastures were laid out in a U shape. Two small pastures bordered the north and south sides of the property. The biggest pasture was the entire back five acres. Vel let out a loud cluck. The pony instantly lifted his head from the grass and made his way toward the noise. The two horses with him followed.
“See how the horses stay back.”
“Wow, he’s half their size. What’s his name?” Finny reached over the fence, talking to the mostly white little Appaloosa pony. She saw his eyes were cloudy and didn’t want to scare him.
“His name is Buster. He was a Silver Spur school pony for close to twenty years until he went blind. This pony has safely taught hundreds of kids to ride. He’s given so much joy over the years, I think he deserves a nice retirement.” Vel lovingly stroked the pony’s spotted neck.
“How did you get him?” Finny was surprised Vel had one of Jeff’s ponies.
“I got a frantic call from one of Silver Spur’s old students. She heard Buster left on a trailer to go to the slaughter yard. She begged me to help, and, well, here he is.”
“Oh,” was all Finny could think to say. She couldn’t believe Jeff Hastings, who she so respected, could do such a thing, especially to a pony that had served him so well for so many years.
“The other two are Max and Stella. They’re my horses. They’re both well into their twenties now.” Vel had a big smile on her face when she handed them both carrots. The horses gently took them from Vel’s hands and nosily ate them.
“They’re beautiful, Vel.” As elderly as they were, Finny could see from their conformation the two warmbloods, both gray, must have been lovely in their prime.
Finny was introduced to the remaining herd. Vel described the care each horse needed and then Finny followed her back to the barn, where they sat down to write up a list of daily chores. Finny was relieved that the list looked easy to accomplish. She’d help with the stall cleaning, grooming, and medicating the horses that needed it in the evening. It’d be a breeze.
Finny gave Sky, who was picking at his hay, a pat good-bye before she had to go to Silver Spur to work. She washed her hands, about scrubbing her skin off, then slid through the fence and went next door.
It was like stepping into a different world. Silver Spur had twenty-five green, beautifully irrigated acres peppered with giant oak trees. The fences surrounding the property and dividing all the pastures were gleaming white. The two large pastures at the front of the property were bisected by a long cobblestone-edged driveway lined with maple trees that led to the main barn. No expense had been spared when the grand brick fifty-stall barn was built, designed to look like a country estate, complete with manicured courtyard. People new to the farm were often surprised to walk through large ornate doors only to find horse stalls instead of bedrooms.
Finny hurried through the front pasture to the driveway. She still got a thrill every time she walked up to the beautiful barn. Centered in front of the barn was the main outdoor jumping arena. This was Jeff’s private arena and he only let his top riders use it. As a working student, paying for lessons only with her labor, that ring had been off limits. But, last year Jeff had told Finny she was riding so well that she should join the advanced lessons. That had been a turning point for Finny. For the most part, she had been ignored by the other girls, who paid large lesson fees to Jeff and big bucks to board their horses at Silver Spur. After her first lesson with them, several became openly hostile. They didn’t want a lowly working student riding with them on their level. Her participation in those lessons didn’t last long.
Finny jogged up the aisle that divided the main barn from the large indoor ring. She could feel the give of the rubber non-slip floors that were specially designed to look like bricks. All the ornate brass stall nameplates and halter holders in the barn sparkled in the sunlight that streamed in through the large skylights.
Once through the barn and out the other side, the structures were more simple. Made for usefulness, not for show. Finny went to the barn manager’s office. Ray wasn’t there, nor was the head groom, Carl, Ray’s brother.
Finny saw the clipboard with her duties for the day. She gasped at the amount of work she was assigned. She took a deep breath, then the paper from the clipboard. Carl had been giving her more and more to do, giving her some of his own duties for that matter. Finny wasn’t afraid of hard work. The problem was that she was only human. Once, after a particularly grueling day, she got up the courage to say something to Ray about her workload. He just shook his head with disappointment and told Finny she must not realize what a privilege it was to ride and work at Silver Spur and he was sure he’d find plenty of other people who would happily take her place.
Today, Finny hustled to the tack room. The advanced girls were scheduled to take their lesson at noon. Number one on her list of thirty: All their tack needed cleaning before they arrived.
Finny lined up the four saddles so she could work efficiently. After soaping and polishing the leather she buffed the nameplates. Elsa, Sasha, Olivia, Clara. Jeff’s elite riders. “The girls who keep me famous,” he called them.
Finny went to work next on Elsa’s bridles. She didn’t know which of Elsa’s four horses she would be riding, so Finny cleaned them all. It had been Elsa, Jeff had told her, who had put an end to Finny’s lessons with the elite. Elsa had thrown a fit and Jeff admitted that keeping Elsa happy was a priority since her father bankrolled the whole place.
When the bridles were spotless, Finny jogged to get to item two on her list: Washing the training pads and polo wraps. Next to the feed storage was the laundry room with two industrial-size washing machines and dryers as well as a utility sink and storage cabinet. Fin
ny took the sack leaning up against the machine with all the pads and shoved them into the washer. Shouting outside caught her attention. She quickly shut the washing machine and peered out the door to see what was going on.
Ray was cursing up a storm from inside Silver Spur’s horse trailer. He came out of the storage room dragging a man out behind him.
“Carl, check the trailer, make sure nothing’s missing. I just caught us a thief.” Carl, who also helped with the cross-country drives, ran into the rig and checked all the equipment.
Finny looked around to see if anyone else was there to witness the scene happening behind the barn. She didn’t see Jeff anywhere, or anyone else, for that matter.
“Everything’s there. Just found this.” Carl held up a backpack. The man, who was no match for Ray’s sixfoot-two, broad-as-a-barn frame, struggled to get out of his grip. Finny saw then that it wasn’t a man. It was a teenage boy.
“Check the bag.” Ray growled to his brother without loosening his hold on the teenager.
“Why were you in our truck?” Ray asked the boy with a hard shake.
“I saw you were a horse ranch. I . . . need a job.”
“I think I did find something that was stolen.” Carl said. He pulled out a handful of money from the backpack.
“Hey, that’s mine!”
“Good thing I found him, Carl. We don’t need no thief here.” Ray wore a telling smile.
“Where did you get on, kid?”
“Give me my money.” The boy grabbed for his backpack. Carl easily kept it from his reach.
“Had to be Phoenix, that was the last time we stopped for gas.”
“You’re in California, boy. What do you expect us to do with you now?”
“Let me go.” Realizing it was useless, the boy stopped fighting the big man. He looked up and locked eyes with Finny for a brief moment. Carl gave the boy his backpack minus the money.