High Hurdles Collection Two (49 page)

“As little as possible. Gran is having us all over to her house after church. Then I get to finish my homework, including—are you ready—a book report. Ta-da! Which I have not read, at least not more than half. So does that answer your question?”

“Uh-huh. I was hoping we could get some more packets assembled. We have the meeting after school with the business group on Wednesday.” She led Josh up into the trailer, tied him, and returned. “I have some more pictures we need to think about. You gotten any new drawings done?”

DJ shook her head. “No time. I have to check on the girls, and then I'll be right back.”

“They've already left,” Mr. Yamamoto said. “You two get in the truck so I don't lose you again.” He beckoned another horse to be led in, then they slammed the ramp shut.

The week passed in a blur. The kids at the business club meeting Wednesday were really pumped about DJ and Amy's business and asked them to make up sample packets consisting of one of each card. They planned on calling on gift and card shops to see if they could expand the local market. They also planned to call the business writer at the
Contra Costa Times
, the local newspaper, and see if she'd like to run an article on the two young entrepreneurs.

One committee would be working on a business plan for them, another on pricing for cheaper printing and assembling.

DJ and Amy rushed out of the meeting and to the Academy without time to think or talk or DJ would be late for her lesson.

When DJ arrived home, Maria had taken over the kitchen.
“Buenos dias,”
she called. “Dinner in half an hour.”

“Where's Mom?”

“At the doctor's.”

DJ stopped halfway up the stairs to her room and came back down to the kitchen instead. “Is she sick?”

“No, checkup. Mr. Crowder, he go with her.” “Oh. And the boys?”

“At your
abuella's
… er, grandmother's house. All be back soon.”
Strange
, DJ thought on her way up the stairs.
It's as if she's lived here all the time, but she just came back this morning
.

Saturday morning the birds were just beginning their morning muttering when DJ staggered into the bathroom. The shower on full force brought her alert. When Joe drove in, she was waiting at the door.

“Have a good day,” her mother called.

“Thanks, you too.” The rest of the family was going to help Andy and Sonja get DJ's old house ready to move into. They were painting the inside and working on the yard.

Joe, DJ, and Bunny crossed the San Mateo bridge with the sun just beginning to pink the western hills, but the showgrounds were in full bustle already. The line of trucks and trailers waiting to gain the parking lot extended down the block.

“So is your friend Sean going to be here today?” Joe asked.

DJ nodded. “There was a message from him on the answering machine. I had to call and apologize for mixing up the show dates. We've been playing telephone tag mostly.” She turned to Bunny. “I met Sean at the drawing class I took with the artist Isabella Gant in San Francisco. He lives over here.”

“With your schedule, it's a wonder anyone ever gets a chance to talk with you,” Joe added.

“Less than three weeks until school is out. I can't wait.”

“I can just see you sleeping in Major's stall so you won't miss time at the Academy.” Bunny waved at someone who'd waved first.

“Hey, you think Mom would let me do that?” DJ gave Joe a big innocent-eyed look.

“Dream on, kid. She thinks you live there now.”

When they finally pulled into the parking lot, they took the slot next to Hilary's rig.

As usual, her flat classes were an exercise in doing her best at something she was doing only because it was good for her. While it took extreme effort, she gave each event in the ring her full attention. Focus was her motto. The good thing was they were going to jump in two afternoon events. Waiting for that took patience.

Brad and Jackie arrived in time for lunch. “Sorry we couldn't be here earlier,” Jackie said, handing DJ a pastrami sandwich and chips. Brad popped the top on a peach-flavored iced tea and handed it to her. “Joe says you've been doing a good job.”

“I think my best. Major reminded me to just have fun and ignore the snobs. He's in such good form and having a ball. Like a little kid playing in a sandbox. He doesn't care about the other horses at all.”

“Stormy says she misses you.” Brad wiped his mouth with a napkin. “She said to tell you to hurry up and get up there to play with her.” Stormy was the Arabian foal Brad had deeded to her after the winter foaling and flooding. He handed her a picture. “She's growing like a weed and smart as they come.”

DJ wiped her fingers before taking the photo. “What a cutie. When did you take this?”

“Two days ago.” Jackie glanced over DJ's shoulder. “She hardly ever stands still long enough to have her picture taken.”

“You have to catch her on the run, like this one.” Brad handed her another four-by-six photo with the filly stretched out in a gallop, her brush of a tail already upright. When it grew longer, it would flag like her mother's. “She's going to be dynamite in the ring, a natural show-off. I thought we might show her in August.”

“We?” DJ slanted him a questioning look.

“Sure, you and me. By then you'll be good on halter classes. I can't wait to see the two of you out there.” He handed DJ another photo. “And here's Herndon, pining away for you.”

“The trainer says he is coming along great in the jumping. I can't wait for you to ride him again and tell me what you think.” Jackie took a bite of her sandwich.

“He's beautiful.” DJ admired the sleek, warm-blood/Thoroughbred gelding.

“He's like Major in that he thrives on competition. I've been telling Brad we should bring him down for you. We'd pay the boarding fees, of course.”

DJ glanced at her watch. “I better be getting back to Major. Thanks for the lunch and the pictures. We're due in Junior Hunter class after the next one, ring two.”

DJ and Major warmed up in the practice ring along with the other contestants. A breeze kept the temperature cool enough for comfort, and with the sun shining, the day seemed to have a sparkle all its own.

“Hey, DJ!” The call caught her attention, as did the wavy red hair of the young man at the ringside. DJ guided Major over to him. “Hi, Sean. I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it.”

“My mom had more chores for me today than … well, let's just say too many.” He raised his drawing pad that was tucked under one arm. “Mind if I sketch you from here?”

DJ shook her head. “Not at all, but we won't be standing to pose.”

“I know. How you been?”

“Busy. Wait until I tell you about the business stuff. Mind-blowing, it is.” She lifted a hand to wave a tiny good-bye. “See you later. I have two jumping classes, so wish us luck.”

He nodded and anchored his pad against the post. He was hard at the drawing before they'd gone three horse lengths.

DJ almost wished he hadn't come. Her butterflies had gone schitzo at the sound of his voice. What fun it would be to sit or stand beside him, her art pad propped up also, and work on line and value and movement of living, breathing horses and riders.

“Oh well, Major, let's just give it our best shot.”

The easy course of the Hunter class raced past as they flew over the jumps. Major took them higher than necessary as if to say, “When are we going for the real stuff?” DJ didn't hurry. Jumping was jumping, and that moment of being totally airborne was what she lived for.

While they came out of the class ribbonless, DJ didn't care. So Major wasn't the prettiest horse around.
He
didn't balk like one of the warm-bloods. While she tried hard not to feel the slightest glee at the other rider's consternation, DJ patted Major's shoulder to mask her smile.

Since there were only two classes between hers, she stayed in the practice ring, taking time out only for a drink that Jackie brought her. DJ introduced Sean to Brad and Jackie and left the three of them talking so she could keep Major moving.

They were number three in the jumping order.

DJ trotted Major into the ring and signaled him to canter, heading for the first jump, a simple post and rail. They cleared it with the kind of flair that kept DJ grinning. Straight ahead, she focused on the center of the oxer and counted the paces to herself. They lifted off at the precise moment and soared over the jump, landing with perfect timing, eyes on the next.

The triple with the highest bar in the center came after a curve in the corner of the ring. “Easy, fella, let's not rush it. Two, three, four, and …” They lifted again, clearing the three bars like they were one.

It sounded like a pop as Major's front feet hit the ground. Instead of striding forward, he crashed to the ground. DJ flew straight over his head.

Chapter • 7

DJ hit the ground with her shoulder and rolled.

“Major!” Dust filled her mouth and her eyes. Who was screaming? She lay still only for a moment, fighting to get the air back in her lungs.
Major! Is he down? Oh, God, no. Please don't let him have a broken leg. Please
. Thoughts flew like the dust that rose in a cloud around her.

She wriggled her hands and feet and paused to attempt another breath. She coughed on the intake of dust. Sure that all was in working order, she moved to a sitting position. “Major.”

“DJ, are you all right?” Brad and Bridget reached her at the same time.

“Don't move.” Joe cracked the order as if he were still back on the police force.

“Where's Major?” DJ rubbed the dirt from her watering eyes and tried to get up. Hands on both sides held her down.

“I'm fine! Where's Major?”

“Right behind us,” Joe's voice rang in her ear, his hands gentle on her neck. “Can you move your fingers? Toes?”

“Joe, I did all that. What are you not telling me?”

She could hear people talking around them, but the silence from the stands sent shivers up her spine. She gritted her teeth. “Let me up! I just got the breath knocked out of me.”

With hands assisting her on both sides, she got to her feet. Applause broke out. She turned to see Major dripping sweat, holding one front foot off the ground. Bridget was examining his leg, running soothing fingers down the flat bones.

“It is not broken,” she said, glancing up at DJ. “I think it is in his shoulder.”

“That's the one that's had problems before.” DJ fought back the tears. “I heard a pop or crack when we landed.” Shudders wracked her horse. “He's in terrible pain.”

“Or shock.” Bridget stood up and turned to the ring manager. “We must get him out of here.”

Dr. Jones, the veterinarian for the show, jogged across the arena. “What've we got?” He stroked Major's neck and down his leg, then went back to the shoulder. “Up here, huh?” With gentle fingers he probed the injured area. “We better get him X-rayed right away. I called for my trailer.” He pointed beyond the entry gate. “It'll be right there in a couple of minutes. You want to lead him, or shall I?”

“I will.” DJ sniffed back the tears threatening to drown her eyes. She rubbed Major's ears and down his cheek. “Okay, fella, let's get out of here.”

“Here.” Brad took the horse blanket Jackie handed him and laid it over Major's back. “We'll get the tack off in the trailer.”

DJ took two steps toward the gate, and Major lurched on three legs beside her. Joe walked on his other side, keeping one hand on the horse's soaking wet neck. Applause broke out in the bleachers as they limped out of the arena.

The tears snuck under her control and rolled down her cheeks, but DJ ignored them completely as she murmured a love song to her injured friend. Her
Oh, God, please help us
kept a staggering pace with them.