One Unhappy Horse (10 page)

"It's not just me," Jan said quickly. "Mattie wants to help Dove because she had a horse like him when she was a girl. And she understands. I mean, how important he is."

"Still—" Mom began reluctantly.

"I know. I know," Stella interrupted her. "Anyway, I told Mattie okay. I happen to be friends with the owner of a pawnshop. He went to school with me. And as a favor, he promised he'd hang onto the ring until Mattie can redeem it. The question is, How fast could you repay her? I mean, he can't hold the ring forever, and, you know, Mattie's pretty old." It was Mom to whom Stella had directed her question.

"Today I took a job waitressing a few nights a week,"
Mom said. Jan gasped. Mom frowned at her and addressed her next words to Jan. "I was lucky to get the job. They tell me the tips are good, and I can give Mattie everything I earn there after taxes." Mom looked back at Stella and continued, "But the thing is, it's not right to take money from a person who's not—you know. Does Mattie understand what she's doing?"

"In my opinion, she does—at least about this," Stella said.

"And she's in charge of her own things?" Mom asked. "I'd hate to have anyone saying we wangled a loan from a helpless old lady."

"Well," Stella said, "that's frankly just what her daughter is likely to say if she notices the ring is gone. And that's what worried me at first. But I've been thinking. Why should the daughter get everything if Mattie doesn't want her to have everything? I mean, there's another side to it."

Stella took a deep breath and stared into space, as if she were thinking of how to put it. Finally, she leaned toward Mom and said, "Frankly, Mattie's daughter has been neglecting her lately. Not that Mattie would complain about her precious only child. But my bet is Mattie's privately teed off at her. You know what I mean?"

"Not exactly," Mom said.

Stella twitched her lips comically and rephrased herself. "I think the daughter's done pretty well for herself financially, and she's certainly not straining to make her old
mother comfortable. Like she probably could afford to pay for a private room for Mattie, because she's the director of something or other and must get a very good salary. And the cost of a private room wouldn't be that big of a difference every month."

Stella sat back. "I'll tell you, having her own room would make Mattie a whole lot happier."

Jan remembered Mattie's confusion about whether her daughter had an important job or worked at home as a consultant. Stella apparently thought Mattie's daughter still had her job. Jan wondered which was the case.

Meanwhile, Mom was asking Stella, "But does Mattie have the right to give us this loan if the daughter would object?"

"Why not?
Legally,
the ring is still hers," Stella said. "Mattie hasn't been declared incompetent—not yet, anyway. She has a right to do what she wants with her possessions."

Mom turned toward Jan, who looked at her pleadingly. In desperation, Jan said, "If Dad were here, he'd borrow the money. Dad wouldn't make money more important than Dove's life."

Mom winced. "All right," she said. "All right. I still don't like it, but I'll write Mattie an I.O.U. and call the vet tomorrow to schedule the operation."

"Fine," Stella said. "I just hope the daughter doesn't find out the ring is gone. If she got really mad, she could fix Mattie's wagon."

"You mean punish her?" Mom asked.

"Um-hmm," Stella said with emphasis.

"Well, then we shouldn't take the money," Mom said.

"Oh, please!" Jan begged in terror as the yes threatened to flip into a no. "We'll pay Mattie back fast."

"You'd better," Stella said. "Listen. Go for it. Mattie'll feel good about saving your horse. And she doesn't have a whole lot to feel good about otherwise." Stella smiled at Jan. "Except having you in her life."

"Thanks," Jan said.

But after Stella left, Jan was more worried than elated. Was her mother strong enough to hold down two jobs when she already got so tired from one? It was terrible to burden Mom this way. And as for her part—leasing Dove out—Jan dreaded it. Even if it was to Lisa, who might be a friend, it was going to put in jeopardy the special bond she felt with Dove. And what if Mattie's daughter found out about the ring and Mattie suffered for her good deed!

The situation was like being stuck in the desert surrounded by cacti. Whether it was cholla, prickly pear, hedgehog, or barrel cactus, whichever way Jan turned, she'd run into thorns.

On Tuesday, for the first time in weeks, Arizona's bright blue banner of a sky reflected Jan's mood. Mom had called the vet and the operation was set for Thursday. Everything was going to be all right now, Jan promised herself as she finally went to thank Mattie for the contents of the rectangular box and to take her the I.O.U. Mom had signed. Mattie was sitting alone on the back patio with her head propped on her fist when Jan found her.

"Hi, Mattie," Jan said. "I'm sorry I took so long to thank you for lending me that money, but I didn't know if I could keep it and—Are you all right?"

"Umm, today's not such a good day, but I'm okay. What did you say?"

Jan repeated her thanks and her excuse for not coming sooner.

"Oh, that's all right, dear," Mattie said. "I knew you'd
come when you weren't so busy with school and your horse and all." Absently, she rubbed her bare finger where the ring had been as if she missed its weight.

"Well, anyway, now Dove can get the operation he needs," Jan said. "I mean, thanks to you."

Mattie nodded. "An operation. That was what the money was for, wasn't it?" Her eyes seemed glazed as she raised them to look at Jan. "You be sure to come tell me how it goes," she said.

Jan promised she would. "Is something hurting you?" she asked Mattie.

"My head," Mattie said. "I get these spells, but don't you worry. I'll be better soon."

"I hope so," Jan said. She told Mattie about the one-pot dinner she'd made for her mother from soup and beans and tuna fish. "Mom said it was delicious," Jan said and laughed. Mattie laughed with her, but without pleasure. For once, she didn't seem to want to talk.

"Well, I guess I'll let you rest, and come back another day," Jan said.

"Yes, dear, that would be nice," Mattie said. She closed her eyes and dropped her chin on her hand, and Jan left.

On Thursday morning, Jan wanted to stay home from school, but Mom pointed out that even if they followed the horse van that was to take Dove to the animal hospital, all they could do there was wait.

"They're not going to let us stay with Dove. We're better off keeping busy instead of sitting around chewing our nails," Mom said. Reluctantly, Jan had to agree, more because she knew her mother couldn't afford to waste time in the waiting room of an animal hospital than for her own sake.

That day, Jan's math class was working on word problems. She kept making mistakes. She couldn't concentrate, even though math was her best subject, or, at least, the one where she got her best grades. Her mind kept returning to what Dove was doing. Would he go up the ramp into the van without a fuss? He moved so reluctantly lately. Would he move at all for anyone but her?

Of course, Mom would be there when they came for him. Mom could get any horse to do anything. Even horses that had been abused by previous owners and shied away from people would let Mom handle them. It was as if they could sense her gentleness and trusted her. Yes, Jan told herself. She was being vain to imagine that Dove would only behave himself for her. Good-tempered as he was, any reasonably capable horse person could handle him.

Still, he might be scared. Horses were when something unexpected happened. She had spent an hour with Dove before school explaining to him that whatever strange things were done to him would be for his own good. Soon enough he'd be back home and his leg would start to heal. Of course, he probably hadn't understood what she was
telling him, and even if, by some miracle, he had, he'd want her there for reassurance. She wished she were with him now.

"You look like something's wrong with you," Lisa said to her in the hall on the way to social studies.

"My horse is getting operated on today."

"But I thought you wanted the operation."

"Yes, but what if it doesn't go right?"

"Oh, come on, Jan. He'll do great. My grandpa had open-heart surgery last month and he's doing fine."

"Horses are delicate."

"So are grandfathers."

Jan had to laugh. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm glad your grandpa's okay."

"Me, too. I'm nuts about the guy. Do you have grandparents you're close to?"

"No," Jan said, thinking of her grandmother in England. Then she remembered Mattie. "But I have a sort of grandmother-friend I'm close to."

"A grandmother-friend? What's that?" Lisa asked.

"She's a special person who lives near me. When you come over, I'll introduce you to her."

The minute Jan got home from school, she rushed to her mother in the barn.

"I called," Mom said. "They say Dove did well and the operation was a success. He'll be there overnight. Then a
couple of days after he gets home, you'll have to start making him walk to exercise the leg. It may be three months until you can ride him."

"But he didn't act up any?"

"Dr. Foster said he was a perfect gentleman. And it's over, Jan. He'll be okay."

Jan nodded, so relieved she felt dizzy. "I'll go tell Mattie. She'll want to know."

"Jan, wait," Mom said. "I'm leaving at four for that waitressing job. That means you'll have to take care of your own supper. And could you—?"

"Feed and water the horses? Sure, Mom. Be glad to," Jan said.

"I'll be working Thursdays through Sundays."

"I'm really sorry, Mom," Jan said fervently.

"About what?"

"That you should have to do two jobs."

"No, that's all right. Waiting tables is different from what I do by day, and I'm no good at sitting still, anyway."

On a sudden impulse, Jan hugged her mother. "Thanks for being so good to me," she said.

Mom didn't hug back, but she didn't pull away, either. "Mattie's the one who deserves the thanks," Mom said. "I'm your mother, but she's just a friend. You tell her we'll have her ring back by next summer."

"It'll take that long?"

"Oh, yeah," Mom said. "You don't get rich quick by
doing anything I know how to do." She grinned. "Not that getting rich was ever something I cared about."

"Me, either," Jan said.

"Well, your father always said that money's a great problem solver," Mom said, "but he never let it worry him that we didn't have any."

"
You
worry, though, and I know you didn't want Dove. I never thought I meant that much to you that you'd do all this just for me," Jan said. "I mean, Dad—I know you loved Dad, but—"

Mom raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why, Jan," she said. "You're my only child. I don't have anyone or anything that means more to me than you." She turned and picked up a bucket as if embarrassed by what she'd said.

Jan stood still, tingling with emotion. Her mother had never come so close to saying she loved her. Not that Jan needed to hear the words now. Mom had proved her love convincingly enough.

Mattie was coming out the back door of the big house when Jan arrived. "I was just going for a walk," Mattie said. Today she was acting like her usual perky self. "Wasn't anybody wanted to come with me, so I set out by my lonesome. Want to keep me company?"

"I'd be happy to." Jan offered Mattie her arm. Mattie took and squeezed it.

"Oh, it's so nice to see you," Mattie said. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, but what I wanted to tell you—Dove had his operation today."

"Your horse? He had an operation? Oh, my! And how's he feeling?"

"Well, he's still in the hospital, but Mom called the vet and she says he's doing fine. He may be home tomorrow."

"Hot diggity! That's what my daddy used to say when he got good news. Hot diggity!" Mattie laughed. "Won't it be wonderful to see that pretty horse kicking up his heels!"

"Thanks to you."

"Oh, I didn't do anything much."

"Yes, you did, Mattie. You saved Dove."

"Well, if I did, I'm glad."

They walked down the dirt road through the ranch and farther, past the other ranch properties that bordered the road. Mattie was talking about her grandfather's farm and the two old workhorses on it. "They were always harnessed side by side. Even out of harness, they moved like they were attached. They were like Siamese twins, those two. Looked all knobby-kneed and swaybacked, but strong still."

"How long did they live?"

"Oh, until they were thirty-something. But wouldn't you know it? They died within days of each other. My grandpa didn't get workhorses to replace them. He was using a tractor by then. Actually, I suppose, those horses had been eating more than they were worth, but I cried when they died. It was like a piece of my childhood was gone."

"Dove's most of my childhood," Jan said.

"Yes, I know he is." Mattie patted her arm.

On the way back, Jan asked hesitantly, "Have you seen your daughter lately?"

"Uh-huh. Valerie stopped by the other night. She didn't look good, sort of puffy and bags under her eyes, but first thing she asked was where the ring was. My daughter's a sharp one. Doesn't miss a thing."

Jan stiffened. "So what did you say?"

Mattie giggled. "I told her I'd mislaid it. I've mislaid it before. She went looking in the bathroom and all over my dresser and even took the bed apart. I told her it would surely turn up."

"She was upset?"

"Umm. She wanted me to give her that ring when she graduated from college, but my husband said no, he'd bought it for me." Mattie stumbled and Jan caught her and held onto her arm.

"My daughter went to college, you know," Mattie said after she'd thanked Jan. "I never did. Girls didn't go that often when I was young, even though my daddy could have sent me, but I was never any brain. Well, and I never worked for pay like my daughter, either. She's got a real important job."