Whirlwind (17 page)

She rode in the bed of the truck, bouncing as it wound up the side of the hill. They caught up with Chase by the gate in the fence that enclosed the barn area. “Get in, boy,” Rand called out his open window.

“Thanks. I’ll walk.” He opened the gate for them.

“We’re getting fast food,” his father said. He was squashed between Rand and Grandfather in the front seat.

Chase shifted his eyes toward Jas, then quickly looked away. “Nah.”

“Come on,” Jas urged as the truck rumbled through the opening. “You know you’re dying for a bacon cheeseburger, dripping with grease, and a giant order of fries.” She could almost see him salivate.

“All right.” Reluctantly, he gave in. He shut the gate and, tossing his shirt into the truck bed, vaulted over the tailgate. But he settled against the tire wheel, as far from her as he could.

Sorry. I was an idiot
. Jas rehearsed an apology. Hopefully he’d talk to her at some point on the way to Burger King. Maybe if she explained why she’d freaked, he’d understand. However, sooner or later, if she kept acting like a brat, he would quit understanding.

The truck drove slowly past the barn and office, scattering geese, chickens, and dogs. Tilly barked at the wheels. Digger was in quarantine, baying his displeasure at being locked up. Monster and Hope ran behind the truck. Since Monster had gotten out of quarantine, the two dogs were inseparable.

Like Chase and I used to be
. Jas watched him from the corner of her eye. His gaze was
riveted on the roof of the truck cab. She was about to say something when Rand braked in front of the gate that led to the driveway.

Chase jumped out. Jas followed, shooing animals out of the way so the truck could pass through. When he shut the gate, he was careful not to meet her eyes.

A horn beeped. A cherry-red convertible was driving up from the main road. Lucy waved from the driver’s seat. “Hey y’all! Come see my new car!”

“Wow,” Chase murmured. “What a sweet Mustang.”

Instantly, the guys spilled from the truck, even Grandfather. Jas could have cared less. Except that Chase was fawning over the car
and
Lucy. Jas scowled, kicked gravel, and patted Reese, who hopped over on his three legs with a tennis ball. She tossed the ball across the lawn. Then, figuring she’d rather be a good sport than a jealous witch, she sauntered over. By then, the hood was up and all four guys were bent over, inspecting the engine. “Nice car, Lucy,” she said, trying to sound as if she meant it.

The older girl was fluffing her hair, her gaze aimed in the sideview mirror. “It is, isn’t it.”

Jas slid one finger along the shiny chrome. “A present?”

“Kind of.” She pulled lip gloss from a teeny purse.

“From your dad?”

“What’s with the interrogation?” Lucy shot her an annoyed look as she slid gloss over her pursed lips.

Jas frowned, wondering why Lucy was avoiding her questions. Chase was right—it was ludicrous to think that Lucy was behind the leaks to Hugh. Yet, how else could she afford an expensive car? It certainly wasn’t the money she made riding horses for Mrs. Vandevender. And Lucy’s mom was a single parent who worked in a doctor’s office. There was a dad, but he lived in Richmond, and according to Lucy, he was a “jerk who married some twenty-year-old.” Had Lucy made a deal with a devil named Hugh?

“Excuse me.” Lucy opened the car door so fast that Jas had to jump out of the way. “How do you like her, guys?” she asked as she waltzed toward the front of the car.

Whistles and comments of praise rang from under the hood. “What do you say, Pop?” Chase whacked his dad affectionately on the shoulder. “I’ll have my learner’s in a month.”

“Sorry. It’s your mother’s old Honda for you,” Mr. McClain said, and Chase groaned.

Jas headed back to the truck, her thoughts still on Lucy. Devious spy or not, she didn’t trust the girl. Or any of the volunteers, really. Mr. Muggins was always hanging around. And George and Rand asked too many questions. The only people she trusted were Miss Hahn, Grandfather, and Chase—who wasn’t talking to her, anyway.

“Jas!” Miss Hahn flagged her down from the kitchen doorway. “Phone call for you.”

“Can you take a message? We’re headed to lunch.”
If Lucy would ever move her stupid car
.

“You’re welcome to come, Diane,” Rand offered as he closed the hood of the Mustang.

“Yes to lunch, no to a message,” Miss Hahn said. “It’s Ms. Baylor, Jas.”

“It is?” Jas broke into a run. “Don’t wait for me,” she hollered over her shoulder as she crossed the lawn, Reese bounding beside her, still wanting to play.

“You sure?” Rand hollered.

“Positive!” The conversation with the investigator was too important to rush through. Jas raced past Miss Hahn. Flinging open the kitchen
door, she flew inside and picked up the phone. “Hi, Ms. Baylor.”

“Jas, I’ve got exciting news. Pack your bags—you’re going to Florida. I’ve found Whirlwind!”

JAS BURST INTO TEARS. SOBBING, SHE REACHED
for a box of tissues, pulled one out, and tried to staunch the flow. “I’m sooo …” She struggled, unable to speak. Finally, the sobs receded and she was able to ask, “Is Whirlwind all right?”

“She’s fine. Beautiful. I’ll tell you all about her when I pick you up at the airport.”

“You’re in Florida already?”

“Hey, when I get a solid lead, I work fast. Now, grab a pencil and paper. I’ve booked you a flight to Gainesville. You leave early tomorrow morning.”

Jas’s head was whirling, but she quickly wrote down the information, double-checking every detail.

“If Miss Hahn can’t take you to the airport, call this limo service.” Ms. Baylor gave
her a phone number. “The insurance company will pay for it.”

“Got it. Got everything.” Jas’s fingers tightened on the phone receiver. “Ms. Baylor, are you … are you sure it’s Whirlwind?” She was afraid to ask but needed to know. She couldn’t stand any more disappointments.

“Ninety-five percent. She matches the photo, I found the scar, and her circumstances are right. Your identification will make it one hundred percent.”

“Scott Black told you where to find her?”

“Honey, no more discussion over the phone. And you keep this strictly between you and Miss Hahn, you hear?”

“Yes.” Jas lowered her voice, understanding what Ms. Baylor was saying.
No more leaked information
. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Don’t sound so distressed. Just think—one more day.” She could hear the glee in Ms. Baylor’s voice. “One more day before you see your horse.”

That night, Jas went out to the pasture to say goodbye to Shadow. Climbing over the fence, she saw him at the bottom of the hill grazing with the other horses. As soon as he saw her, he raised his head and nickered.

She sat on the top board, whistled, and held out a carrot. His ears pricked and he broke into a canter. “Hey, easy. Whoa!” she gasped as he charged toward her, worried he’d jump over the fence—or over her.

But he slid to a halt and plopped his muzzle in her lap, almost knocking her off the fence. Laughing, she grabbed his mane to keep from falling.

“Such terrible manners,” she scolded when he snatched the carrot from her hand. “I came to tell you goodbye. I’ll be away for a day or two. When I come back, I might have a friend for you. Her name’s Whirlwind.” Just saying the mare’s name made her heart thump. Was it really going to happen?

She tried to remember the last time she’d seen Whirlwind. It was the afternoon of the day before she’d found the dead mare in the paddock. She’d schooled Whirlwind over a course of fences, getting ready for an upcoming show. The mare had been perfect—smooth, steady, and graceful. Hugh had been so delighted, he’d told Jas to cool her off and put her away after one round.

Instead, Jas had unsaddled her. Then, jumping on her bareback, she’d ridden her behind
the barn and down a path into the shadowy woods. Hugh would never know, she told herself after every secret jaunt that spring. He was too busy calling clients and making deals.

Not that they galloped recklessly through the trees. No, the two walked to a stream. Whirlwind would duck her head, drink, then paw with her hoof, splashing water. Jas would lie on the mare’s neck, arms dangling, dreaming of a horse of her own. Not just any horse.
Whirlwind
.

Shadow bumped her arm, wanting more. “Sorry, Mr. Greedy, no more carrots.” She scratched under his forelock. His coat felt sticky in the humid evening, and flies buzzed around her head. “Now, when Whirlwind comes, I want you to be nice to her. No biting and being bossy. Okay?” He tossed his head as if agreeing. “Nicer than I’ve been to Chase,” she added, glancing over her shoulder.

The barn and office were dark. Chase and his father had returned to the farm after lunch but had immediately left. She’d tried to call him to say goodbye and to tell him the exciting news, but he didn’t pick up his cell phone, and no one was home.

Or he was avoiding her.

Not that she blamed him. She’d been such a pain. Still, he’d worked as hard as she had to find Whirlwind, and he deserved to hear the good news—despite Ms. Baylor’s warning.

Sighing, she gave Shadow a last pat goodbye. Jumping off the fence, she watched as he trotted back to the other horses. She’d try Chase later. In fact, she’d call until he answered, even if it took all night. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d be able to sleep. She was way too excited.

“Your grandfather will be in good hands,” Miss Hahn reassured Jas as they drove to the Charlottesville Airport early in the morning. “Mrs. Quincey cared for her husband for many years.”

Before she killed him with rum cake
.

“I’ll check on him every morning and evening,” she went on. “And he’ll be helping Rand during the day.”

“Remind Rand to make sure Grandfather wears his hat and sunscreen,” Jas said. “And drinks plenty of water—he can’t get overheated. And he needs his nap after lunch.”

“I will. Try not to worry. Concentrate on Whirlwind. Now, as for the farm business, I’ve good news.” Miss Hahn began to talk about the
donations that were coming in. “We’re not out of the woods yet, but because of the brochures you kids sent out, donations are up.”

“Thank goodness.” Jas was glad to see a smile back on Miss Hahn’s face.

“Just in time, too. That dog Monster eats as much as a horse,” she grumbled,
affectionately
, Jas noticed. “And don’t get me started on Digger. He’s true to his name. There are four holes in the quarantine stall. But I think Daryl James, the farmer down the road, will adopt him. He’s got coonhounds galore, yet loves each one like a child.”

As Jas listened, she stared out the window at the orange glow of the sun rising over the giant box stores and car dealerships on Route 29. She’d never flown before, but Miss Hahn was going inside the terminal with her. Plus, she had prepped her carefully on dos and don’ts, especially for when she had to switch planes in Atlanta.

She hadn’t told Grandfather the reason she was going to Florida—too afraid that he would blurt it to Mrs. Quincey or another volunteer. Miss Hahn had made up a story about Jas needing to be in Florida for an emergency visit with her mother, Iris. Which was a laugh. Iris
was working at some racetrack in Florida, but Jas hadn’t heard from her since last year’s Christmas card. Still, on short notice, the lie had to do.

Even worse, Jas had never talked to Chase. Finally, after midnight, she’d left a message on his cell phone.
I can’t tell you everything
, she’d told him,
even though I promised no more secrets
. She had told him that Ms. Baylor had found Whirlwind but not where. And she’d said she was sorry.

Would Chase forgive her for just leaving? For not telling him the details? The thought that he might not made her ache. At the same time, she was brimming with joy.
Whirlwind
. If Ms. Baylor was right, she would soon be with her beloved horse.

“We’re here,” Miss Hahn said.

Jas grabbed her carry-on bag from the backseat. Half an hour later, she had her ticket and was ready to go through security. “Thank you.” She hugged Miss Hahn, and for a minute, they kept their arms wrapped around each other. Then Jas pulled away. “I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

“No, you call as soon as you arrive in Gainesville.” Worry shimmered in Miss Hahn’s
brown eyes. “You realize I trust Ms. Baylor; otherwise I’d never let you do this alone.”

“I
am
almost fourteen,” Jas reminded her, trying to sound confident, although inside she was a bundle of nerves. Ms. Baylor was ninety-five percent sure the mare was Whirlwind. That left five percent of doubt. And suddenly, that doubt seemed huge.

“I know. Now pay attention,” Miss Hahn added in her no-nonsense tone. “Watch the flight numbers and times, and don’t forget your bag when you disembark.”

“Gotcha.” Jas smiled a goodbye and then stepped into the security line. Waving one last time, Miss Hahn disappeared out the front doors.

The line snaked slowly toward the security checkpoint. Jas clutched her ticket in one hand, her bag in the other. Even though she was surrounded by people, she felt terribly alone. She missed Grandfather. She missed Chase. If she had a cell phone, she would have called him to say goodbye. He’d be half asleep and sweetly goofy.