Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (39 page)

Jodi and Suzanne stood chatting in the kitchen as they put the finishing touches on a fruit salad. The hungry children followed their noses to steaks cooking on the grill. The men were talking about car engines and baseball teams while Kelsie sat patiently under the picnic table. Barbeques were easy pickings for the Labrador since stray hot dogs, chips, and marshmallows usually fell to the ground.

“So I hear you’re going to Nevada in December,” said Jim. “Do you ski?”

The younger children finished their meals and ran to play. Shannon was reluctant to leave the table when she had heard Carrie’s name spoken in hushed voices. Her mom and dad always lowered their tone when speaking of Carrie and her parents, and this bothered Shannon. Lori pulled on her sleeve and pointed toward the sandbox.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Shannon said, leaning over pretending to tie her sneaker. Lori went to see what Abbie and Brian were building.

“So they moved to Nevada just like that?” Suzanne asked.

“That takes guts,” Jim added. “Not everyone can do that, you know. I think it really shows courage.”

“The kid wants a horse now, can you believe it? She fought tooth and nail to stay in New Jersey and now she’s happy as a clam and wants a horse,” John said, laughing.

“Well, I know where she can get one real cheap,” Suzanne said, lowering her voice. “We have to sell Jasmine, Lori’s horse. We just can’t keep her. Jim’s schedule has changed and I’m not able to keep up with running back and forth to the barn. It’s just too much with my job and taking care of the kids.”

“Oh, no,” said Jodi. “Your daughter will be crushed.”

“I know. We’re not saying anything to her yet. Sure, it will be hard on her, but kids are tough and she’ll bounce back,” Suzanne said. Jim spooned more coleslaw onto his plate. “Please let us know if you hear of anyone looking for a horse because we need to find her a good home fast.”

Shannon knew she shouldn’t have stayed and listened, but now that she had, she felt horrible. The grownups were still busy chatting and she backed away from them unnoticed. Shannon walked over to her swing set and slipped into a mesh seat rocking next to Lori. She thought about all she had heard and her stomach felt queasy.

“So, what do you say—do you want to learn to ride my horse?” Lori asked, blowing a bubble through a little plastic wand.

“Wait…what…your horse? Oh, I’m not sure,” stuttered Shannon. “It looks a long way off the ground. I only ever rode a pony at the 4-H fair.” She doesn’t even know they’re getting rid of Jasmine, Shannon thought. Should I tell her? No, no way.

“Well, I can teach you and then maybe you can get your own horse and we can both go riding together,” said Lori smiling.

“I think you and my friend, Carrie, would get along perfectly. I’m not really a horse person,” Shannon said as she leaned back on her swing looking up at the darkening sky.

“Huh? How can you say that? You haven’t even tried it yet. Plus, you haven’t met Jasmine. She’ll make a horse person out of you, just watch!”

“Yeah, well, with you in crutches and me not allowed to even ride my bike I’m not sure I’ll be meeting horses anytime soon,” Shannon replied.

Lori didn’t give up. “How about tomorrow? It’s my dad’s turn to take me. I can show you around while he speaks to the stable owners. He said he has a meeting with them; it’s probably time to pay or something.”

“Pay for what?” Shannon asked. She was in mid-swing and dragged her feet to bring herself to a stop. “I thought you owned Jasmine.”

“No, silly. Horses cost money to feed them and keep them in a stall, unless you have a barn at your house. Some people are lucky enough to have their own stable and all they do is open their back door and say, ‘Hello, horse,’” said Lori laughingly.

“Oh,” Shannon said, wondering if Carrie knew about this part of adopting a mustang. Carrie had phoned all excited about her plan to adopt a foal named Cricket. Shannon was hoping to see the little horse when she visited, but first Carrie had to ask her mom. She turned to Lori. “Carrie is trying to adopt a foal, but I’m not sure she’s figured out the money part yet.”

“Well, that’s all part of owning a horse, but just tell her that kids don’t have to worry about that because parents take care of the money. We just have to do all the rest.”

Shannon nodded, thinking this sounded terrific. From across the yard they heard, “Who’s ready for dessert?” and hurried back to the picnic table.

“Where’s your brother?” John asked, looking around the yard.

“Where’s your sister?” Suzanne asked, getting up from the lawn chair and putting down her tea. Brian and Abbie were no longer in the sandbox and suddenly everyone began looking all around the yard for the two small children. The men walked around the neighborhood calling out their names while the mothers tried to remain calm.

“We’ve looked everywhere,” Shannon said as she started to cry.

Suzanne hugged Lori. “Abbie has never wandered away.”

The men returned and John asked everyone to go inside while he called the police. The women held back tears as they hushed their whimpering daughters. Lori and Shannon huddled together. With a sickening feeling, Jodi was reminded of the last 911 call—and Shannon in the back of an ambulance. How could this be happening? The night had seemed so perfect. Just then they heard Brian and Abbie laughing. John quickly told the police he no longer needed help as he hung up the phone and wiped away tears. The two children were playing with toy trains in Brian’s room. No one had bothered to look in the house and they all sighed as they picked up Brian and Abbie and headed outside to finish cutting the cake. Kelsie enjoyed a brownie that fell to the ground while the families shared the rest of the evening relaxing under the stars.

After a while, Shannon helped Suzanne carry Abbie to the car as Lori hopped behind on her crutches. John and Jim said goodbye, promising to get together soon. Jodi stood rocking the small helmeted boy who was asleep in her arms. It was an end to a wonderful summer evening. A bit of a scare but, all in all, it actually finished peacefully.

Before the car drove away, Lori rolled down her window.

“See you tomorrow, Shannon. I can’t wait for you meet my best friend!”

“Huh?” asked Shannon.

“Best friend?” whispered her parents, looking at one other.

“Remember, silly?” Lori shouted. “We’re going to see my horse, Jasmine!”

Chapter 60

Milla, her head buried in a book, sat on the lawn chair trying to ignore her surroundings. This was supposed to be her day at Carrie’s house but there had been a change in plans and here she sat wishing she were anywhere but Foot’s back yard. “Are you sure you don’t want to play with me?” Fern asked as she held out a naked plastic doll.

“No,” Milla grunted, eying the piles of fluff and ribbon that made up the doll’s wardrobe.

“Okay,” Fern sighed, “but you don’t know what you’re missing. These dolls are all going to a fancy party and they need help choosing their gowns.”

“Uh huh,” Milla mumbled.

Mrs. Adams poked her head out the back door. “Fern, have you brushed your teeth and flossed yet?”

“Yes, of course, Momma. I always do it right after breakfast.”

“Did you gargle, too? I thought I heard coughing last night and I don’t want germs floating around this house.”

Milla sunk further into her book, far away from the minty mouthwash bottle Mrs. Adams was waving.

“Oh, Momma,” Fern whined. “It wasn’t me, it was Ully coughing.”

“Well, you need to come gargle right now while I’ll check on Ulysses. My goodness, he’s late getting up. Maybe the poor dear is sick.”

Fern slowly put down her dolls and disappeared through the back door. Milla closed her eyes and let out the breath she had been holding. I’m always so tense here, she thought. This place makes me nuts. I can’t wait for Mrs. Preston to get here. Her father arranged at the last minute for Sue Preston to pick up Milla after she had finished grocery shopping. Mrs. Adams didn’t seem too happy about the arrangements when Milla had told her.

“Why do you need to go that woman’s house when my home is right here in your own neighborhood?”

Because! Milla had wanted to shout—because she doesn’t have a loud-mouthed, creepy kid named Foot living there! Milla’s thoughts wandered back to her conversation with Mrs. Burke a few days ago. Mrs. Burke was right—it really wasn’t fair to blame her because Milla’s dad refused to adopt Hope. It really stung when Mrs. Burke said she wouldn’t hold up the adoption, even when Milla begged her for more time to talk her dad into it. Didn’t anyone understand that she had found Hope that terrible day and therefore
she
should be the one who gets to raise her? Adults could be so thick sometimes. Her dad wouldn’t even let her have a dog or a cat, so what chance did she have of getting a horse? Tears began to prick her eyes and she sniffed them away just as Mrs. Adams came in to water her plants.

“Did I hear you sniffling, Milla? I have something that will help you fight those nasty cold germs. Come on, let’s go blow your nose.” Milla sat with her head in her book and ignored Mrs. Adams. This woman is so loony, she thought. She actually thinks she’s gonna hold a tissue while I blow into it!

“Milla,” Mrs. Adams repeated. “Did you hear me? We need to take care of this right away.”

“I’m fine,” Milla said, wishing her grandmother were there to defend her. What would Grandma say to this lady? She would probably just smile and ignore her. Milla smiled at Mrs. Adams, put her book into her backpack, and started to walk away. “See you later, Mrs. Adams, I’m going to go out front now. Mrs. Preston should be here in a few minutes.”

Mrs. Adams opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. Milla waved over her shoulder and continued walking until she was out of sight. Mrs. Adams walked over to the lawn chair Milla had been sitting on and quickly sprayed disinfectant on the vinyl covering.

Sue Preston pointed to a small shed. “Here is where I keep all of the tools to clean the stalls, and over there is the tack room. You know what a tack room is, right?”

“Yeah,” said Milla, “that’s where you keep the blankets, bridles, and saddles.”

“That’s right. The brushes and grooming supplies are over there in that large trunk. So, now that you know the routine, do you think you can help me out around here?”

“Yeah, sure, I think I can, but do I get to ride your horses, too?” Milla asked as she admired the beautiful saddles that were neatly seated on cedar racks in the tack room.

“In time you will be able to ride, but only when I’m nearby and only after all of your stable work is done. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal!” Milla beamed. Wow, I really
am
going to get to ride. Wait ’til Carrie hears about this, she thought.

Milla’s first day working at the barn seemed to slip by and she was surprised when her father’s jeep pulled into the driveway. Devon walked up to the paddock and held his hand out to the buckskin that was eyeing him from across the corral. The horse smelled the air and flicked his ears, trying to decide whether to stay next to his friend, a little sorrel named Penny, or go meet the man making clucking noises.

“That’s 7-Up, Dad. Isn’t he a beauty? We call him 7 for short,” said Milla as she dried her hands on a towel.

“Yeah, I love buckskins,” he said as the horse ventured a little closer. “7-Up, huh? What’s up, boy—do you like soda pop?”

“Mrs. Preston said she named him that because his coat was really pale at birth. He’s pretty shy but he and I are becoming friends.”

“Hey, you two, how about staying for dinner?” Mrs. Preston hollered from the back door.

“Thanks, Sue, but we’re going to head out,” Devon replied.

“Aw, Dad, can’t we stay?” Milla pleaded.

“Geez, Mil, you usually never want me to accept a dinner invite. You must love it here,” he said, opening the door to the jeep.

“She’s not like other people, Dad. She reminds me of Grandma and she’s fun. Can’t we stay, pleee-ease?”

Mrs. Preston smiled as she watched them from her kitchen window. That girl’s as stubborn as her father, she thought, running water over the dusty potatoes she had gathered to peel. She saw Milla do a little whooping dance and Sue smiled, adding a few more potatoes to the pot.

After dinner Milla cleared the dishes while Devon and Sue discussed the recent BLM round-up. “I’m not holding you responsible, Devon. I’m just saying the use of helicopters in the round-ups is absurd and it’s causing too many deaths. I, for one, think that’s unacceptable.”

“This argument isn’t a new one, Sue, but as I’ve told you and anyone who will stop to actually listen, the government follows laws handed down by Washington. People need to take it up with the policy makers. I work as an agent following the laws that have been put in place. I’m also not even a part of the round-ups. Heck, I’m just the guy who has to feed and house them after they’re all taken off the range. I think I do a pretty good job and I’m sick of people calling us horse killers. They don’t have a clue what goes into handling so many horses. Helicopters or men on horseback—I don’t have any say in how it’s decided. I just try my hardest to take care of a lot of horses and burros.”