High Hurdles (63 page)

DJ kept her gaze on his face. “Why did you never write or call me?”

Silence swelled in the truck cab, the rain on the roof sounding like a drum roll.

DJ wished she had kept her mouth shut.

Brad nodded slightly. “I could give you all kinds of reasons, most of them valid, but the bottom line is I was chicken. I had bowed out of your life, and I was afraid Lindy hated me and had made you hate me, too.”

“Mom never said a word about you—ever. Once or twice I wondered, but since I was happy, I figured I didn’t need a dad—not when I had Gran and Gramps and Mom. Even after Gramps died . . . our little family felt like enough. I sure missed Gramps, though—for a long time.” DJ spoke slowly and softly, exploring the ideas herself as she shared them with her father.

“I missed out on a lot.”

“Gran says everything happens in God’s timing.”

“Yes, I’m sure she does. Melanie always did have a strong faith. She’s an example to all of us. No way I’d hear such talk from my family.”

“But you believe now?”

“Thanks to Jackie. Still, I might never have contacted you if we had been able to have children. Maybe this is God’s way, after all.” He reached out and stroked a gentle finger down the curve of her cheek. “I am just so eternally grateful that I know you now. ‘If onlys’ aren’t worth the time it takes to think about them.” He patted her hand. “Any more questions?”

“One more?”

“Shoot.”

“What do I call you? Before long, I’m going to have two dads or whatever, and I don’t know what to call either one of you.”

“Let me think on that one, okay? Who knows, maybe you’ll come up with something that you feel comfortable with on your own. Eventually, something will work out. Just please don’t ever introduce me as Mr. Atwood.”

“I won’t.”

“And, DJ, if Lindy and Robert can handle it, I really want to be a part of your life. Jackie and I both do.”

“Things like school and stuff, too?”

“Yep. All of it. Shows, school events, birthdays. Whatever.”

“Cool.”

Together they walked into the barn and over to the only foaling stall in use at the moment. The filly darted behind her mother and peeked out just like before as the mare hung her head over the low wall to soak up the attention. When Brad obliged by scratching up behind her ears and down her cheek and neck, the mare sighed and let her eyelids close. When he stopped, she tilted her head to coax him to keep going.

DJ leaned over the gate, extending her hand to the filly.

The curious baby reached out her muzzle and leaned toward the hand. But she refused to move a foot closer.

“You should call her Elusive. Ellie for short.”

“That’s a great name. And it sure fits her temperament—at least what we’ve seen of it so far. If you want to go inside the stall and just sit in the corner, this old girl won’t mind. You’ll be able to make friends with Ellie there. I’ll finish my chores and come back for you.”

“You sure my face won’t scare her?”

“DJ!” He dug in his pocket and pulled out pieces of horse cookies. “She won’t take these yet, but I know her mother loves them.”

DJ opened the stall door very slowly and slipped inside. The filly disappeared behind her mother. The mare wandered over and lipped the cookie bits from DJ’s palm, then, munching, gave DJ the nose test. Up her arm, her hair, and finally her jacket pockets.

“You found ’em, huh?” DJ gave the mare another treat while scratching her ears. “Why don’t you tell your kid to come visit with me, too? You mind if I sit here in the corner?” As she talked, she slid her back down the wall and crossed her legs to sit comfortably. The mare lowered her head and, after sniffing some more to check out the bandage, blew horse-cookie breath in DJ’s face.

“Thanks a big fat bunch.” DJ wiped away a bit of slobber. While she paid attention to the mare, she kept her eye on the baby, who hid behind her mother’s tail again, peeking out from the veil.

“Curiouser and curiouser, aren’t you?” At the low, singsong hum of DJ’s voice, the baby ears flicked back and forth. One step at a time, she edged around her dam until she was standing clear, a strand of the mare’s long tail still caught on one fuzzy ear. DJ kept herself from laughing out loud only through sheer effort of will.

“Such a charmer, you are. How could anyone resist you? How can you keep from coming over here to see what is pleasing your mom so much?” The mare stood, eyes at half-mast, her nose even with DJ’s shoulder.

The filly finally stood within a foot of DJ, her body poised to flee at the slightest mismove. DJ kept playing with the mare.

When she worked her arm up to rub behind the mare’s ears, the baby reached out and sniffed DJ’s sleeve. When nothing happened, she took a step closer. The mare whuffled DJ’s hair, and DJ slipped her another treat. Loud munching filled the stall.

DJ could feel her right foot going to sleep. Soon, she would have to move. “Come on, baby, make it all the way over here. Let me touch you the way I am your mother. I promise you you’ll like it.”

Ellie sniffed DJ’s hair, then darted back one step. She reached again, brushing DJ’s hand with the whiskers on her upper lip. At last, she sighed and let DJ touch her nose. Ears pricked, eyes wide, little Miss Elusive huddled closer to her mother’s shoulder and let DJ stroke her furry cheek and under her chin.

“What a baby you are . . . so soft.” DJ wanted to shout for joy. She’d done it! She’d petted Elusive.

“You really have a way with horses, my dear,” Brad spoke softly from above her head.

The filly darted behind her mother again, so DJ pushed herself upright. Needles stabbed her awakening right foot, and she grabbed on to the stall door. “I didn’t even hear you come up.”

“You were too busy. Such patience that took. No wonder you are able to win even Patches over.”

DJ limped out the stall door when Brad swung it open. “Thanks for the treat. What a honey she is.”

“Let’s go eat, then talk about you drawing her.”

Before she left for home Sunday afternoon, DJ had ten drawings scattered over the table. She’d also ridden again, working Herndon until he cleared all the jumps nicely. Another ride on Lord Byron after a dressage lesson on Herndon reminded her again of how much there was ahead to learn.

When DJ called home, Lindy said they would all be over at Gran’s, so she should be dropped off there.

“Do you want to come in?” DJ asked when Brad stopped the Land Rover in Gran’s driveway.

“Not this time, unless you want me to.” He motioned to her face, which at least was no longer swollen.

“Nah, it’s no big deal. Thanks for the wonderful weekend. You’ll call me when that other mare is about to foal?”

“If it looks like it will happen on a weekend.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

DJ leaped from the car with all her gear and, after one more wave, trotted to the front door. She had so much to tell everyone!

“Hi, I’m back,” she called from the entrance.

The two torpedoes hit her at the same time, but she was braced and ready. She reached down and hugged them, one arm around each. “Hi, guys.”

They looked up, their mouths going round as their eyes. “DJ, what did you do?”

She put a finger over her lips to shush them. When she looked up, her mother and Robert stood before her.

“Darla Jean Randall, whatever happened to your face?” Lindy’s face matched the shock in her voice.

Chapter
•
6

“It looks worse than it is.” DJ put a hand to her bandaged cheek.

Lindy’s horrified question brought Gran and Joe to the hallway. When DJ looked at her grandmother, Gran shook her head. No, she hadn’t mentioned anything about the accident.

Robert put an arm around Lindy’s shoulders. “Okay, DJ, fill us in.”

DJ set her things out of the way and joined everyone in the living room. With all eyes on her, she swallowed and related what had happened. “So it’s just a couple of stitches. I know I have a black eye, but it’s getting better.” She blinked both eyes for good measure. “Most of the swelling is gone already.”

“So you were jumping with a horse you didn’t know?” Lindy leaned forward, away from Robert.

The boys had glued themselves to DJ’s side as if assigning themselves as her protectors. Every once in a while, one would moan, “Poor DJ.”

By the third “poor DJ,” she nearly burst out laughing. But she could tell her mother was in no mood for laughter.

“Come on, Mom, it’s no big deal. I’m not broken anywhere. If I never get hurt any worse than this, I’ll be blessed.”
Oops, not the right thing to say
. The frown deepened between her mother’s eyes, and DJ sent Joe a pleading glance.

“She’s right, Lindy. She’s not seriously hurt, and we’ll all keep praying that she never will be.” Joe smiled at DJ. “Besides, Gran has been sending guardian angels DJ’s way for fourteen years now. I’d say they’re doing a pretty good job.”

“I just don’t want Brad Atwood being irresponsible with my daughter.”

DJ bit her tongue.

“No one was irresponsible. Accidents happen.” Robert rubbed Lindy’s shoulder and drew her back into the circle of his arm. “Remember when Bobby took a header off the bleachers? Was that my fault for not watching him better? Or yours? Or DJ’s? Or Dad’s? We were all there.”

DJ sat back in her chair in relief. “Thanks, Robert.”

As the conversation turned to other things, DJ regaled them with the tales of Elusive. She brought out her drawings and made the boys giggle at the baby peeking out from her mother’s tail.

“These are about your best yet,” Gran said, holding the pencil drawings up for better light. “She sure is a sweetheart.”

“Yeah, and I finally got her to come to me.” DJ told that story, then went on about the possible flood, the gorgeous yard, riding Lord Byron, taking lessons from Jackie, and what great food they had.

Lindy jerked up a restraining hand. “Enough already. DJ, you’re not letting anyone else get a word in edgewise.” Her look shouted “be quiet!”

“Oh, sorry.” DJ slumped back. She watched her mother for any sign of relenting. She still had so much to tell. Wasn’t she interested? The boys leaned against her knees.

“DJ, tell us more stories,” one pleaded, the other nodding.

“How about we kids go in the other room and let the grown-ups talk all they want?” She didn’t even try to keep the sarcastic bite out of her words. DJ looked up to catch a questioning look from Robert. Gran just shook her head.

Letting the boys pull her to her feet, DJ and her escorts left the room. They settled in the family room, all three in Joe’s big recliner. DJ told them again about the filly, this time making it more of a story. “The Adventures of Elusive, Ellie for Short.” Whenever she asked, “And do you know what happened then?” the boys gave her another idea, and off the story would go again. Then she drew pictures to illustrate the story and let the boys color them.

By the time they were ready to leave, DJ had pretty much forgotten about her hurt feelings, but when they got home, she knew for certain her mother hadn’t.

“I didn’t appreciate your sassy remark,” Lindy said before DJ went up the stairs. “I also think you should have called me to say you’d had an accident.”

“Sorry.” DJ knew if she said anything more, another smart remark might explode into the air. Why would she want to call when her mother probably would have ordered her to come home at once?

“Brad at least should have had the courtesy to call.”

“But, Mom—”

“No buts.” Lindy took another tack. “Is your homework done?”

DJ shook her head. “I forgot to take it with me. It’s not Brad’s fault.”

“Well, someone in this family has to be responsible.”

Sorry didn’t seem to be cutting it, so DJ chose not to say it again. “Good night, Mother. I’ll try to do better.” She stomped on the first step of the stairs but changed her footing fast. She would not get into a fight and ruin the entire weekend.

But the old “not fairs” raged in DJ’s head, keeping her from falling asleep. Here she had been so excited about her visit and all the neat things that happened, and her mother got into a hissy fit. All Lindy could think of was homework and who was responsible. Who was her mother to say that? Until the last year, she’d hardly ever asked about homework—and never about the Academy. Gran had done all the asking, just like Gran had done everything around the house. Lindy hadn’t done much of anything but work, go to school, come home, and study. She hardly took a minute in her loaded schedule for her daughter.

DJ flipped over on her other side. Let God see if He could figure this one out—she sure couldn’t. But the Bible verses she’d memorized in Sunday school started a parade through her wide-awake mind.
Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you. . . . Love one another. . . . Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!

DJ flipped from side to side with each verse. Finally, she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. “God, I need to get to sleep so I can get up early to study. I didn’t yell at my mother this time—I thought I did pretty well. Anyway, you know I’m trying to control my mouth and my temper. What gives?” She waited, her arms crossed on her raised knees and her good cheek resting on her wrist.

A soft tap at her door made her think, for just an instant, God had arrived to answer her.

“Come in.”

Lindy poked her head in and, seeing DJ sitting up, entered the room. “I heard you tossing around. Can’t sleep, either?”

Enough light from the streetlights entered the windows that DJ could see her mother’s shape but not her expression. At least the tone of voice sounded comforting. She hung on to Lindy’s last word. “Either?”

“Yeah, I kept hearing our conversation over and over.”

DJ waited. “Me too.” She scooted over and patted the bed beside her. “You can sit down if you want.”

Lindy sat, one knee up on the bed, so she was partly facing DJ. “That bandage on your face scared me half to pieces.”

“Mom, it’s no big deal.”

“If you had to have stitches, it’s going to leave a scar. That
is
a big deal to me.”

“The doctor said it would disappear with time. We’ll hardly be able to see it.”

“The thought of a scar on your face doesn’t bother you?”

“Not a whole lot, but then I haven’t seen it yet. Jackie changed the bandage. She said a scar like this would have been a badge of honor back in the days of sword fights.”

“Great. So my daughter walks down the aisle at my wedding looking like she’s been in a duel.”

DJ snorted. She could tell from the tone that her mother was poking fun of the idea. “Does it really bother you?”

“Not really. Not as much as the fact that you got hurt and neither Gran nor I were with you. Besides, you can cover the scar up with makeup if you like.”

“Mom, you and Gran can’t be with me all of my life.” Still, her mother’s words warmed DJ’s insides.

“I know. But cut me some slack, okay? I’m just learning about this mom stuff.”

DJ thought a bit. “You know, I see Joe more than Gran nowadays. I miss her, especially in the mornings.”

“Funny, she said the same thing the other day.” Lindy turned and patted DJ’s hands on her knees. “You think you can sleep now?”

“Mm-hmm.” DJ could feel her eyelids getting heavy.

“Me too.” Lindy stood and leaned over to kiss DJ’s cheek. “Mom reminded me that you have a very forgiving heart. I’m glad you do. Sometimes I think you are more grown-up than I am.”

“Huh?”
Great, that was an intelligent, mature answer. Try again.

“Only in some ways, of course.”

“Night, Mom. I love you.”

“Thank you, Darla Jean Randall.” Lindy’s voice wore a coat of tears. “Have a good day tomorrow.” She sniffed as she went out the door.

DJ snuggled back down in her bed. The words “I love you” had just popped out. Had she ever before said “I love you” to her mother? Gran yes, but to her mother? Not for a few years at least.

“Thank you, heavenly Father,” she whispered just before dropping off to sleep.

DJ explained her accident about fifty times at school the next day. Her eye was already turning black, especially underneath. “I look like a raccoon,” she muttered to Amy in the washroom after lunch.

“Not really. They have two black eyes and no bandage.” Amy brushed her black hair and wrapped a scrunchie around the thick, straight mass. “Did you hear what happened at the Academy this weekend?”

“How would I if you didn’t tell me?” DJ turned from examining the bandage and the new zit on her chin.

“Joe might have.” Amy stuffed her brush back into her backpack.

“They were too grossed out about my face to think of anything else.”

“How come you told Gran not to tell your mother?”

“ ’Cause I was afraid she’d freak and probably give my da—Brad—a bad time. And it wasn’t his fault. I let Herndon turn out on me. When I think about it, it was probably all my own fault. My timing was off when he ticked it the first time, so then he didn’t have confidence in me, and well, he turned out. I shoulda been ready.”

“I wouldn’t let Bridget hear me say that.” Amy headed for the door. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

“I know—what do you think, I’m stupid or something?”

Amy raised one straight eyebrow.

“Don’t answer that.” As Amy headed the opposite way, DJ hollered after her, “So what happened at the Academy?”

Amy turned around, walking backward. “Tell you later.”

Keeping her mind on her classes the rest of the day wasn’t easy.

“So what happened?” DJ pounced with her question as soon as she and Amy met again at their locker.

“Bridget will probably introduce her to you.” Amy sorted through her books to decide what to take home.

“Who? Amy Marie Yamamoto, do you want an eye to match mine?”

Amy ducked away and slung her backpack over one shoulder. “Mrs. Lamond Ellsindorf—you-can-call-me-Bunny—that’s who.” Amy threw a you-really-don’t-want-to-know-more look over her shoulder. “To listen to her tell it, she is the most important rider on the East Coast, or was, until her husband got transferred out here to the wilds of California and she was
forced
to come with him.”

They climbed into the backseat of the Yamamoto minivan. Amy’s older brother, John, who after finally, as he said, turning the big one-six, had just gotten his driver’s license, was driving.

“There’ll be no comments from the peewee section,” he growled.

“John.” Mrs. Yamamoto might not be very big, but one word from her, and her children shaped up. “Hi, you two. Ignore the grouch here. DJ, whatever happened to your face?” She turned around to see better.