High Hurdles (35 page)

“Tough luck, DJ.” Angie turned from wiping her horse’s face with a soft cloth. “I thought you had it.”

“I wish.” DJ remained on Major to watch the final round. Hilary jumped cleanly. She and her horse looked as though they were having a party out there.
How can she handle the pressure?
DJ thought. Tony and one other person had already completed perfect rounds.

The other rider ticked on the next round with the jumps raised two inches. DJ held her breath and let it out with a shout when Hilary made another perfect round. So did Tony. DJ swallowed a groan. The young girls around her didn’t need to know about the problem between them, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

“He’s so cute,” Krissie whispered to Sam.

DJ shook her head. If only he were as nice as he was good-looking.

The poles went up again. DJ sent a prayer heavenward for her friend.

Hilary jumped first, another perfect round.

“This is your day, buddy, keep it up.” DJ and Amy stood shoulder to shoulder with Major on the outside, head drooping over DJ’s shoulder so she would scratch his cheek.

Only a nicker broke the silence as Tony entered the ring. His horse seemed to fly over the jumps. The oxer, a double, triple uneven poles, crossed poles and a double oxer, and the final, a square oxer. A hind foot rang on the pole. The pole wobbled but remained in place.

The crowd groaned.

“And the winner of our Hunter/Jumper class today is Hilary Jones on her horse, Prince. Hilary is from the Briones Riding Academy. Come on over here, young lady, and accept this well-earned blue ribbon and a coupon for a sack of horse chow from the Concord Feed and Seed Company.”

The arena assistant gave out the ribbons while the announcer continued. “We’ll take a few minutes to clear the arena, then start the equitation classes. Let’s give Hilary Jones and Tony Andrada, our second-place winner and also from Briones, a well-deserved hand.”

“He’s not a happy camper,” Amy said with a shake of her head.

“You suppose that’s his dad?” DJ looked over at the man talking with Tony just outside the ring entrance.

“Got me. I haven’t seen him around the barns. Tony’s mom picks him up.”

DJ turned at familiar shouts from the Double Bs. Joe had one on each hand pulling him along. He stopped them before they could run into the horses. DJ turned Major and walked back to them so they could pet the horse.

“I wanted you to win. How come you hit the pole? Don’t you like blue ribbons best? Major’s the best horse, isn’t he? I was scared you was gonna fall off. Can I ride now?”

DJ looked up to see a grin on Joe’s face. “Kinda make you tired, don’t they?”

She switched her attention back to the matched pair, who were dancing in place. “How can I answer anything when you don’t give me a chance?” She looked back at Joe. “Put them up on Major, and I’ll walk them around. Major’s tired of standing still anyway.” She wiped the smile off her face and gave orders once they were aboard. “Now, no yelling or banging your legs. You have to sit still. Grandpa Joe will walk beside you so you won’t fall.”

“We wasn’t gonna fall off.” They looked at her as if she’d said a nasty word.

“No, of course not. Now hang on. Front B, grab the mane, B in back, the saddle cantle.” She pointed to the places as she spoke. Life would be a lot easier if she could tell them apart well enough to call them by name.

When they returned, it was time to help her students and get Patches ready for the Halter class. Mrs. Johnson had been grooming him till he gleamed. DJ was wishing she had entered him in the Walk/Jog class, too—anything to give him experience.

The twins had gotten restless, so Lindy took them home after DJ placed third in equitation for fourteen-and-under riders. She didn’t feel too badly about the results—she and Major still had a lot of work to do on form and pacing.

“You could have brought Ranger for the Halter class,” DJ told Joe as she snapped the lead into Patch’s show halter.

“I know, but I’d rather get to know him better first. I’ll watch you now, and then you can coach me,” Joe responded.

“That goes for me, too.” Mrs. Johnson fell into step beside them as they walked the path around the arena. “This is so much more fun than riding up into the hills. You think I could show Patches?”

“Why not? Halter class is a good place to start, then Walk/Jog. These training shows make it really easy to begin.”

“Not like the big one after Thanksgiving, huh?”

DJ felt a flurry of butterfly wings in her stomach. She
had
to do better at that show, and the competition was tougher there.

Patches loved the show-ring. He strutted as though he’d been showing for years.

“You big show-off,” DJ whispered as the judge gave the flashy gelding the blue ribbon. “Now if you only minded this well when you were under saddle.”

By the end of the day, DJ felt as if she’d been run over by a six-horse hitch—with each hoof hitting her twice. Besides that, her belly felt like it hadn’t been fed in a week.

She hit the front door wanting nothing more than food and bed.

Instead, she had two tornadoes wrapped around her legs before she could close the door.

“We been waiting for you. Grandma baked cookies. Lindy made us take a nap. Did Patches win? How come you took so long? You said next time we came we could color. Dinner’s ready, and you get to sit by both of us.”

DJ felt like burying her head under her pillow. “Put a cork in it, guys.” At the frown on her mother’s face, DJ stopped trying to walk and peeled each twin off her leg and set them in front of her. “Now, give me a minute, okay?” At their nods, she continued, “No more questions.”

They nodded again—in unison.

“Get to the table, boys. Joe, you and DJ want to wash up? Dinner is ready.” Gran lifted a covered dish out of the oven. She set it on the counter and handed DJ a peanut-butter cookie. “That’ll hold you till you get to the table.”

At least it was quiet in the bathroom. DJ decided she’d never gripe about a quiet house again. She washed her hands and wiped a smudge off her cheek. Must have been a kiss from Major. Back down in the dining room, the boys patted the empty chair between them in case DJ didn’t know where to sit.

Joe led the grace. “God is great, God is good, and we thank Him for our food.” At the “Amen,” one of the boys started to say something, but a look from Joe stopped it.

DJ promised herself she’d ask him how he did that.

Sunday after church, they all picked up Amy and went to the gallery where DJ’s drawing hung on display.

“How come you didn’t get the purple ribbon?”

“I like it better.”

“So do I, guys, but an honorable mention isn’t too bad.” DJ studied the artwork around hers. She had to keep telling herself that.

“I like yours the best,” Amy finally said after looking around. “All this other stuff is . . . is . . .” She turned to Gran. “What would you call it?”

“Modern art is as good a term as any. They were obviously looking for something unusual here.” Gran stopped to study a sculpture.

“What do you think it is?” DJ whispered.

“It isn’t what it is, but how it makes you feel.” Gran turned to her with a smile.

“It makes
me
feel hungry.”

“Oh, great—all my artist friend here can say is that it makes her hungry.” Amy danced away from DJ’s threatening look.

“I think we’d better leave,” Lindy said. “The boys are about to knock something over, and then where will we be?”

“Apologizing, most likely.” Gran put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Other visitors looked at her kind of strangely, but the boys came running back.

“You better teach me how to do that.” Lindy curled a lock of hair behind her ear. “Or get me a leash.”

“Well, I think you can be very proud, darlin’. Your drawing stands out among the rest of the works hanging here.” Gran gave DJ a hug.

“She means yours is the only one that makes sense,” Amy whispered with a giggle.

By Sunday night when Robert came for the twins, Lindy was the one who looked like she’d been caught under the six-horse hitch—and dragged.

Chapter
•
10

“Did the boys behave?”

“We was good, Daddy. Wasn’t we?”

“Yes, of course.” Lindy pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead. She didn’t even have any lipstick on, and she still wore the jeans she’d put on when they went to the park to play on the jungle gym. They’d stopped for hamburgers on their way home, and a smear of ketchup decorated one pant leg.

DJ hung back and watched as Robert kissed Lindy, then bent down to hug and kiss the boys, who by now had glued themselves to his legs.

“Did you bring us a present, Daddy? Did you? Did you?”

“Shh, boys—in a minute.” He looked at Lindy. “Sorry I’m late. We’ve been stacked up over northern California waiting for something to clear at the airport.”

“Daddy!”

“No problem.” Lindy swiped the hair back again.

DJ watched as the boys grew louder and her mother’s lips tightened. Soon Robert took on the same harassed look Lindy wore.

“Well, see you guys. I got homework.”

The twins threw themselves at DJ for hugs and kisses before returning to their father.

“What did you bring us? I want to go home. Will Nanny Jean be there?”

On one hand, DJ wanted to see the rest of the scene, and on the other, she had to leave before she burst out laughing. She didn’t need a plan to prevent a wedding between her mother and Robert. All she had to do was let the twins loose. A short time later, she heard the front door close and Robert’s car start and leave.

Her mother turned out the lights and made her way up the stairs and down the hall. She tapped on DJ’s door. “Thanks for your help, dear. I never could have done it without you.”

“Come on in.” DJ lay flat on her bed, algebra book and notebook spread in front of her.
Dear.
Since when did her mother call her or anyone “dear”?
Things they are a’changing, that’s for sure
.

“Are you behind on your homework?” Lindy leaned against the doorjamb.

“Not too bad. I worked ahead since I knew this weekend would be busy.”

“Wish I could have done that.”

“You decided on your thesis yet?” DJ found herself fishing for something to say. This was worse than being in a group of adults asking, “how’s school?” or, “what do you want to do when you grow up?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to two projects. One might interest you.”

DJ looked up from tracing the pattern in her bedspread.

“I’m thinking of focusing on teenage entrepreneurs, like you and Amy with the pony parties. I want to zero in on how kids start their own businesses and manage them. What do you think?”

“Your advisor would approve something like that?” DJ swung her feet to the floor.

Lindy nodded.

“Then I think it’s cool.”

“Do you know any other teens who’ve started their own businesses?”

DJ crossed one leg over her other knee and rested her elbows on her leg. “Not right off the bat, but I can ask at school. In fact, you could put an article or something in the school paper and let the kids contact you.”

“If I did that at your school, maybe I could at others.”

“I’ve seen articles in papers and magazines about kids and their businesses.” DJ slid back on her bed and sat with her legs crossed. She patted the bed beside her. “You could check
Scholastic
or
Seventeen
. That would help you tap into kids from other areas.”

“Do you read those magazines?”

“Sometimes.”

“Hmm. And I thought you read only horse stuff.” Lindy scraped at the ketchup stain on her jeans. “You know, you’re really good with the twins.”

“Thanks.”

“They like you.”

“They like anyone who answers their questions.”
Where is this conversation going? What am I supposed to say now? They like you, too?

“Well, I better get to bed. I’ll set up a search on the Internet tomorrow and see if I can find more kids who have businesses of their own. I can use you and Amy for a case study, can’t I?”

DJ nodded. “Sure.”

“And some of your other attempts, too?”

“M-o-m, get real.”

“No, I’m serious. I need failed attempts, too, and yours are good examples of learning by trial and error.”

“Yeah, mostly error.” DJ looked up at her mother, one eyebrow raised. “You’re kidding, right?”

Lindy shook her head. “And if the thesis works out well, I’m thinking of using the research to write a book. What do you think of that?”

“Wow. That’s really cool.”

“That’s also just a dream. Thanks for all the help.” Lindy started to walk out. “Oh, DJ? I’m sorry you didn’t do better in the show. I hope having the twins there didn’t affect your performance.”

“Yeah, well, I have to learn to deal with distractions and the unexpected. At least that’s what Bridget keeps drilling into me. I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” As Lindy left the room, a breath of her perfume lingered on the air.

DJ sniffed. How come Gran’s roses still smelled so much better? “Night, Mom.”

Later, as she lay trying to go to sleep, DJ thought back over the conversation with her mother. DJ and Amy in a thesis? What would Amy say?

When DJ got home from school on Monday, the house was still a shambles from the weekend. She wandered out to the backyard that used to be such a showplace. Now dead flowers and seed pods covered more of the plants than blossoms. The roses needed pruning. She tried to pull a carrot to munch, but the ground was so dry the top broke off.

“Fiddle.” She dug down into the dirt and yanked out the carrot. She washed it under the faucet and turned on the sprinklers. They needed to get automatic ones at this rate. Now DJ couldn’t leave till the yard was soaked. She shook her head. She’d have to remember to turn them on when she got home and off again.

“Even the hummingbird feeders are empty. Just like me.” She shook her head. Here she was talking to herself. And yesterday she’d been praying for quiet.

Joe and Ranger were in the ring when she and Amy arrived at the Academy. Tony had the jumping arena. His horse wore the dark sheen of hard work, and Tony’s face wore a frown.

“Did you hear what his father said to him yesterday?” Amy asked as they ambled toward the tack room.

“Nope.” DJ picked Patches’ bridle off the peg.

“Well, let’s just say I know where the kid gets it.”

DJ stopped before picking up a grooming bucket. “Gets what?”

“The way he talks to Hilary.” Amy dropped her voice. “If my father talked to me that way, I’d . . . I’d . . . I don’t know what I’d do, but it would be bad.”

“Ames, quit yakking in circles and tell me. What did the man say?”

“He yelled at Tony for letting a—you know, the
n
word—beat him. He said if Tony couldn’t do better than that, they’d sell his horse and he could go play Pogs with the little kids.”

DJ sank down on the bench. “How come you didn’t tell me sooner?”

Amy shrugged. “No time. And you weren’t in a very good mood, if you remember. That man used more four-letter words than the creeps do at school. If I talked like that, I’d be grounded for life.”

“Me too.” DJ gnawed on her lower lip. “All I know is that if things don’t change soon, Hilary will leave. If anyone’s gonna leave, it ought to be Tony.”

They both picked up their buckets and started down the aisle.

“DJ.”

She turned to see Bridget coming toward them. “What’s up?”

“I need to know if you are going to the jumping clinic at Wild Horse Ranch. The registrations need to be in the mail today.”

DJ rubbed her bottom lip with her tongue. “I guess not. I really need a saddle, so I’m saving all my money for that.”

“Sorry to hear that. It is not often one is given the opportunity to work with someone of this instructor’s caliber.”

“I’d just like to meet the man. Seeing a former Olympic rider in person—that’s better than meeting any movie star.”

“Well, maybe next time.”

“Maybe next time what?” Joe, leading Ranger, walked up to the trio.

After DJ explained the situation, Joe just shook his head. “I’ll pay the fee. Why didn’t you tell me? You know Gran says all you have to do is ask.”

“I know, but Robert volunteered and Mom wouldn’t let him. I figured I better leave well enough alone.”

To go or not to go. The choices warred in DJ’s head. So what if her mother got mad at her—it wouldn’t be anything new. Was the jumping clinic worth a fight? Lindy hadn’t exactly said DJ couldn’t go—she’d just said Robert couldn’t pay and that DJ needed to earn the money. This wasn’t exactly earning the money, but she had found it another way. And Joe was right, Gran
had
said she’d pay for DJ’s showing fees, but that was when she lived in the same house. Did the offer still stand?

“DJ, let me worry about Lindy, okay?” Joe dug his wallet out of his pocket. “How much is it?”

“Thanks, GJ. I’ll pay you back somehow.”

He pulled out several more bills. “How about if I go, too? I’m sure I could learn plenty since I’m such a novice. This way, I’ll know what you are talking about.”

“Good idea.” Bridget nodded. “You will find there are clinics for cutting horses, too, in case you decide to train Ranger yourself.”

“I better get going. Thanks again, GJ, and you, too, Bridget.” DJ picked up her gear and danced down the row until she came to Patches’ stall. The gelding nickered when he saw her. “Hey, that’s a first.” She dug in her bucket for a couple of horse cookies. “Here’s your treat. I better remind your mother to bring them to you since you’re such a sweetie today.” The horse tossed his head, spraying her with slobber and bits of grain. “And then again, maybe not.” She wiped her face and set to work with the brushes.

By the time she’d worked Patches’ energy off so he could get down to business, she’d used up half of her time with him. Obviously his owner hadn’t been out to ride him today. DJ couldn’t get used to the idea that people who owned horses didn’t ride them every day. In fact, some of the stabled horses were never ridden except by Academy employees.

“Why have a horse if you don’t ride him?” Patches shook his head. He pulled at the bit as if hoping DJ had forgotten to let him run.

“No, you have to mind. Then we can play.” She kept her aids firm, insisting that he move away from the pressure of a leg. Every time he obeyed, she rewarded him with pats and praise. “Remind me to tell Mrs. Johnson to lunge you or let you at it on the hot walker before she gets on. No wonder you can buffalo her—you just have too much energy.”

By the time she’d put him away and taken Major out, she felt like she’d been sitting on a jackhammer. When she put Major into an easy trot, it felt as though she were sitting on a pillow. What a difference a well-behaved horse could make!

“He learned to conserve his energy when he was on the force,” Joe said from the sidelines. “He knew there was a long day ahead.”

“He’s smart all right. That’s why he’s learning so fast.” DJ rode over to the side and stopped. “You on your way home now?”

He nodded.

“Give Gran a hug for me. Tell her the cookie jar is empty.”

“Yeah, sure. The one at my house comes first, kid.”

DJ watched for a moment as he strode across the lot to his Explorer. While she was glad Joe and Gran were so happy, she sure wished Gran would be at home for her like she used to, with dinner waiting and a clean house. The comforting smell of turpentine and oil paints was almost gone, and it had been far too long for the delicious smell of cookies to linger.