Astra (2 page)

Finally Lily opened her eyes. She was always amazed at the huge number of ribbons and trophies on the shelves. Everywhere she looked among the awards there were photos of horses and riders snapped during a race or crossing the finish line.

Racers weren't allowed to compete until they were five years of age. By then, their bones were developed enough to withstand the grueling races.

Certificates of Mileage were awarded by the American Endurance Ride Conference, and they had their own special place of honor on the wall. Both horses and riders where awarded this special honor. Riders got their awards at the first two hundred fifty miles, then at five hundred, seven hundred fifty, and one thousand miles. After that it was only every thousand miles. In addition, a medallion was given to the horse every thousand miles.

Mr. Henley had two horses over the five thousand mile threshold, and his current star, Contina, was approaching her three-thousand-mile mark. Astra was eight years old and had yet to earn her one-thousand-mile award. Before her mother started riding the mare, they'd had trouble with the horse having sore feet. But her mom had successfully ridden the horse in ten races. The last few, she'd placed in the top five.

Lily let her eyes wander to the photos of her mother and Astra. She stepped closer to the wall and reached out a shaky hand to touch the last photo. It had been taken at the beginning of the Tevis Cup last year, before the accident.

She allowed herself a brief moment to let the pain come crashing in—but only a moment. It filled her with a hollow ache so deep she thought her knees might give way.

The edges of her vision began to gray and tears welled in her eyes. She quickly pulled her hand away from the photo and willed the tears to stop. Her mother wouldn't want her to cry and carry on. She reminded herself to think of all the wonderful times the two of them had shared—just as her mom had asked her to do.

Lost in her thoughts, Lily didn't hear the footsteps approaching behind her.

“Do you always have to stand there and stare at the wall?”

The nasally voice, sounding more like one of her grandmother's old scratchy records than a teenage boy, immediately set her nerves on edge.

Charlie had found her. “You've done it, like, a gazillion times,” he added, reaching out to tweak her hair.

Lily twisted around to glare at him, wishing the force of her stare would knock him clear into the manure pile outside the barn door.

Charlie crossed his arms and glared right back, trying to stare her down. “You know, your mom died because of that horse. People say it wasn't anyone's fault, but if I were you, I wouldn't want anything to do with Astra.”

“Let's go, loser.” Jill strode down the aisle like a blast of January wind and grabbed her brother by the ear. “Get your skinny butt down to the yearling pens and get those corrals cleaned before I decide to tell Dad what you just said,” she threatened. “And when you're finished, you owe Lily a major apology.”

Charlie slunk away without a word.

Jill shook her head. “He's a jerk,” she told Lily. “Don't pay attention to anything he says.”

“Thanks, Jill.” Lily turned back to the photo of her mother and Astra. “It wasn't the horse's fault. Really. It wasn't anybody's fault.”

“I know.” Jill nodded in agreement. “Your mom said so when they pulled her and the mare out of that crevasse. She begged us not to put Astra down.”

“I'm really glad you didn't.” Lily smiled at Jill. Sometimes the girl seemed like an older sister to Lily. And since she didn't have any siblings, that helped.

She turned and made her way to the tack room. Astra needed to be saddled. The mare's training was important. Because, just like her mother, Lily still believed Astra could place in the Tevis Cup—in spite of that jerk Charlie training her.

Two

Lily walked Astra from her stall and snapped her into the cross ties. She pulled out the rubber currycomb and worked it in a circular motion over the mare's sleek coat. Astra cocked her hind leg and relaxed.

Lily swirled the curry faster and faster over the mare's back and withers, still thinking about what Charlie had said. The kid had a lot of nerve making her feel like she was dishonoring her mother's memory.

Astra flicked her tail and bobbed her head, showing her displeasure at the rough grooming.

“Sorry, girl.” Lily softened her touch and slowed her brush strokes. “Charlie just makes me so mad sometimes, I can't think straight.”

She switched to a soft body brush and sighed. Deep down, she knew Charlie was right, in a way. It was a little weird for her to hang around the horse that had cost her mother her life. Even Lily didn't understand why she loved Astra so much.

But the accident wasn't Astra's fault. Horse and rider had gone down in a freak accident when part of a single-track trail gave way on a steep mountainside. Because of the remoteness of that section of the trail, it had taken the rescue crew hours to get to them. Lily often wondered if those few hours could have made the difference in saving her mother's life.

She finished the grooming and reached for Charlie's saddle and pad. She placed them high on Astra's withers and pulled them back into place so that all the hairs smoothed into position. It was a trick her mother had taught her.

She wished it were her saddle instead of Charlie's. It would be so awesome to ride the spirited mare through the mountain trails and feel that long, sweeping stride as they covered miles and miles of ground.

She tightened the cinch and frowned. That was one of those wishes that would remain just a dream. Charlie was Astra's exercise rider. Even if the boy did let Lily ride the mare, her father would ground her for life if he found out. What a hopeless cause.

“You look pretty serious.”

Lily's best friend, Meloney Hancock, stepped off her gelding, Jasper, and snapped him into the cross ties next to Astra. Lily gave her a welcoming smile. This would be Meloney's first year of racing. She lived half a mile down the road and trained with Mr. Henley.

Lily felt a small flare of envy. What she wouldn't give to own a horse and be out on the trail training with Mr. Henley. She quickly tamped down her jealousy. Meloney was a great friend. She deserved this lucky break.

“Jasper's looking great.” Lily offered the bay gelding a treat from her pocket. “The spring rides will be here soon. I think he'll be ready.”

“I can't wait!” Meloney said. “It's going to be so much fun.” She paused. “I'm sorry, Lily. It's not fair for me to be so excited when you can't go.”

Lily shrugged. “It's okay. I'm happy for you. You're going to have a great time.” She ran her fingers through Jasper's forelock, straightening the black strands so they centered on his broad forehead. “Besides, I'll be part of your race crew, if my dad will let me. It'll be my job to make sure you and the horses have food and water during the race. I just won't be out on the trails with you, that's all.”

She swallowed hard, forcing the bitter lump of longing down her throat. Maybe someday her father would see how much endurance riding meant to her and let her compete with everyone else.

Charlie poked his head out the tack room door. The powdered sugar from the donut he'd devoured was sprinkled down his shirtfront. “Hey, Lil-Pill, got my horse tacked yet? My dad and Jill are almost ready.”

Lily frowned. She hated it when he called her that name.

“Just ignore him,” Meloney said in a low voice. “In a way, you're lucky you're not riding with us. I've got to listen to Charlie brag for the next three hours.”

“Hi,
Melody
.” Charlie brushed the donut crumbs off his shirt and gave her a powdery grin.

Meloney frowned. “You know that's not my name, Charlie. You've known me since third grade.” She unsnapped Jasper from the cross ties and checked her saddle girth.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I forgot. Here, let me hold your horse for you while you get on.” He followed her out the barn door.

Lily shook her head. She couldn't quite figure Charlie out. He liked to tease her and Meloney, and she thought that maybe he liked them both. But sometimes he was just nasty and rude.

She gathered Astra, made a last check of the equipment, and led the horse outside to the mounting block to wait for Charlie. It was a perfect day for a winter ride. The sun had been up about an hour and the frost was melting off the fences and the brown winter grass. She could still see her breath on the air and her fingers felt cold. But it would be nice weather for the horses. They wouldn't get too hot during their long workout.

She inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh, clean scent of the tall ponderosa pine trees. She loved living here. Everywhere she looked, for as far as she could see, there were mountains and rolling hills dotted with pines and covered in wild grasses, sagebrush, and manzanita.

“Guess we're out of here, Lily. See you later.” Meloney turned her horse and joined Mr. Henley and Jill as they started down the driveway.

“Hey, wait for me.” Charlie put his foot in the stirrup and swung onto Astra's back. He gave her a boot with his heels, and the mare tossed her head in mild protest before trotting down the gravel driveway.

“Not on the rocks!” Lily hollered after him. Astra was prone to sore feet. If they wanted to keep her sound for the race season, Charlie needed to keep the mare on soft dirt as much as possible. That's how her mother had kept the horse sound through all those races.

Astra stumbled and took a few short steps. Lily shook her head. Charlie wouldn't listen to anyone. He always did as he pleased. What she didn't understand was why Mr. Henley didn't step in and say something to him. The kid knew better. Her mother had had many talks with him about what it would take to keep Astra sound.

But Mr. H. didn't see any point in pampering the horses. He didn't believe in padding their feet if they were tender-footed or wrapping their legs with liniment after a hard ride. He had the good fortune to ride a strong, good-legged horse. Contina never had problems. And Mr. Henley expected the rest of his stock to be just as tough.

When the four riders reached the end of the driveway, Meloney turned in her saddle and waved. Lily sighed, wishing she were going with them. She waved back and turned toward the barn. There were stalls to clean and water buckets to fill. Thomas, the barn manager, would keep her busy until the riders returned.

An hour into her cleaning duties, she heard the familiar sound of her father's old pickup pulling into the stable yard. She leaned her cleaning rake against the wall and went to greet him.

“Hi, Dad.” Lily walked to the side door of the rusted-out truck and accepted the thermos of hot chocolate and the peanut butter sandwich he handed out the window.

“Good morning, Flower,” her father said with a grin. “Working hard?”

Lily shared a quick laugh with her dad. Her elderly grade-school teacher, Mrs. Smith, could never remember which flower she was named for. After repeatedly going through the list of possibilities—Rose, Petunia, Daisy, Iris—the confused teacher had given up and started calling her Flower. It had become a private joke between Lily and her dad.

She studied her father. When had the gray hair crept into the edges of his dark hair and the worry lines into his face? He looked tired. She knew he'd been working extra hours to pay off some of their bills. Her mother's funeral and the time her father had taken off to mourn and take care of Lily had set them back a bit. But he never complained.

“What's the matter, honey?”

“Nothing.” Lily shrugged.

Mr. O'Neil rubbed a calloused hand through his short hair and frowned. “I know you'd love to be out there on the trails with your friends, kiddo, but I can't let you do it. It's too dangerous, and it's too soon. Maybe in a couple of years I'll reconsider.”

Lily bit her lip. She would have liked to be preparing for a race season like the rest of them, of course, but her main concern at the moment was her dad. He looked old and worn out. But she didn't dare say anything. When she'd tried in the past to discuss her fears, he'd told her it was none of her concern.

It
was
her concern, though. Her father probably thought he was protecting her. He didn't understand that shutting her out wasn't helping anything. It just made her worry more.

Her dad started the old truck and put it in gear. “I'm heading to the next valley over for a plumbing job. You be good and help your grandma with dinner. I'll be home by the time it's on the table.”

Lily leaned through the truck window and gave her father a peck on the cheek. “Aren't I always good?” she teased.

Her father nodded. “For now, but I'm sure the time's coming.” He winked and backed out of the driveway, waving as he sped down the road.

Lily went back to work. Thomas kept her occupied scrubbing water buckets and filling hay nets. Before she knew it, the horses and riders returned.

She could always tell when they were coming down the mountain. It started with a single whinny from one of the horses in a distant field. As the racers got closer, several more neighs of greeting rang out from surrounding pastures. By the time the group reached the one-mile stretch of dirt road leading home, all the pastured horses cantered down the fence line to meet them. Lily could feel the vibration from the hoofbeats as they tore single file down the pasture trail to escort the riders back to the barn.

Finishing the last of the hay nets, Lily went to meet the returning riders. She was surprised to see Charlie walking up the driveway on foot, leading Astra by her reins. The mare had a bit of a limp in her right front leg and she was walking with her head low. It seemed as if the mare was in pain.

Lily jogged down the driveway. “What's wrong with Astra?”

Charlie shrugged. “I didn't do anything. Don't look at me like that.”