Authors: LLC Melange Books
Tags: #horses, #investment, #eventing, #car, #young girl, #16, #birthday present, #pet, #animal rescue, #unwanted, #sixteen, #book series, #animal abuse, #calf roping, #teen girl, #reluctant, #buy car, #16th birthday, #1968 mustang, #no horse wanted, #nurse back to health, #rehabilitating, #sell horse, #shamrock stable, #shannon kennedy, #sixteenth birthday, #win her heart
Was this why my family loved their horses?
Did they feel like I did? I didn’t have to do or be anything
special for Twaziem to accept me. And he didn’t criticize me for
not being perfect, or call my mom or dad and try to rat me out
because I wasn’t nice or sweet like my brother or sister.
I turned and picked up a big comb. “You’re
going to look so handsome,” I told Twaziem as I started to work on
the tangles in his mane. “Singer will think you’re really hot. And
if the weather’s nice tomorrow, I’ll let you go out to the paddock
with her. Sierra says horses are social animals, and you’d probably
like being with a mare for a couple hours. Besides, it doesn’t
matter if the neighbors see you. They can’t report you to Animal
Control for being skinny because that cop already has a case file
on you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sunday, September 22
nd
, 1:30 p.m.
While Twaziem pulled hay from the bale in his
manger, I groomed him. His brown coat shone, a soft red-gold cast
to the color. I was pretty sure he’d be more of a blood bay than a
golden one. I heard footsteps in the aisle and glanced toward the
hall. I couldn’t quite believe it when I saw Olivia in a T-shirt
and shorts. “What’s up?”
“You said you run every day.” Her voice was
absolutely calm. “I’m here to go with you.”
“Where are your friends?” I asked and kept
currying my horse. “I thought they were joining us.”
“They wimped out after yesterday.” Olivia
lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid to work, or build my stamina.”
I shrugged. “Okay, well, let me finish up
Twaz and put him out in the paddock. Then, we’ll go.”
“Want some help?”
I hesitated. “He’s not real nice. He bites
and kicks. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Her dark eyes widened and she began to smile.
“I’ll be careful.”
“Okay.” I stopped currying Twaziem and took
hold of the rope hanging from the training halter. “Get one of
those carrots and come on inside. We’ll see what he thinks of you,
but if he gets obnoxious, then get out of here. Deal?”
“You got it.” She picked up two carrots out
of the bucket and slipped through the door, closing it behind her.
She held up the first one. “Hey, fella. Want a treat?”
Twaziem nickered and flicked his ears. Then,
he stretched out his neck and pulled the carrot from her hand.
Crunch. Munch and it was gone. He reached for the next treat. She
gave it to him.
“So far, so good,” I said. “Go ahead and grab
a brush. Let’s see if he’ll let you groom him.” I eased up my hold
on the lead, and Twaz turned back to the hay once he realized we
didn’t have any more treats.
He stood and ate while we brushed him. Olivia
wasn’t real chatty and that worked out great. I didn’t want to push
my luck with the horse. After we finished with his body, I worked
on his mane and she stood by his hip to comb out his tail.
“Why is he so thin?” Olivia finally
asked.
“I just rescued him a week ago,” I said.
“He’s actually gained about thirty pounds. He really looked awful
last Saturday. He had these moving patches of lice, and he’d eaten
like half his tail.”
“That’s majorly gross.” Olivia ran the comb
through what remained of Twaz’s tail. “If you keep conditioning it
every time you groom him, then it will grow back faster.”
“Good idea,” I said. “I will. How do you know
so much about horses?”
“I ride at my grandfather’s whenever I get
the chance.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “You need to
scoop out his stall every time he poops, or he’ll eat that
too.”
“Now, I think that is majorly gross,” I
teased.
She laughed. “What are you doing with him
this afternoon?”
“Putting him out in the field for a couple
hours,” I said. “After we get back from our run, I’ll turn my mom’s
mare in with him. I need to watch the two of them so Singer doesn’t
kick him and he doesn’t hurt her, either. I don’t know how he’ll be
with another horse, and it’s not like I can ask his previous
owners.”
“Why not?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I
was being stupid. If they didn’t feed him, you can’t trust a word
they’d say about him.”
“Exactly.”
We finished up grooming him. She gathered up
the brushes and fed Twaziem another carrot. Then, I led him out to
the small field near the house. The grass was about six inches
high, and I’d already scrubbed out the water tub in the corner and
refilled it. As soon as I turned him loose, he trotted away. He
snorted and bucked a couple times. Then, his knees gave out and he
was down in the green field, rolling.
“That’s just great,” I said. “A bath
yesterday, a good grooming today, and now I get to start over.”
“Everybody’s a critic,” Olivia said. “He
probably figures he can do a better job getting himself clean.
Shall we run?”
“Yes.” I took my grooming bucket from her.
“I’ll put this in the back porch and tell my mom where we’re
headed. She can watch Twaziem for us.”
When I came back from the house, Olivia was
already stretching out. I joined her. I hated muscle spasms and was
grateful that she wasn’t so busy being cool that she skipped a
proper warm-up. “So, how do Cedar and Kanisha plan to win at the
meets if they don’t build up their stamina?”
It was Olivia’s turn to shrug. “It’s up to
them, but if they realize I’m going to keep practicing, they’ll get
over themselves. They want to go to State, too.”
“Fair enough.” I turned and jogged down the
driveway. “Let’s do it.”
* * * *
Sunday, September
22
nd
, 8:30 p.m.
That night I returned to the barn just to be
sure that Twaziem wasn’t suffering any ill effects from his busy
weekend. He appeared to be fine, still stuffing himself with hay. I
remembered what Olivia said about the possibility of him eating
manure so I took a few minutes to clean the stall and add more
shavings. With three good sized dumps in the back corner, I knew he
didn’t have colic. That meant I’d be able to sleep all night in my
own bed instead of walking him until super late.
I brought back an empty feed bucket from the
grain room and turned it upside down in the corner near the manger.
I sat down and proceeded to tell Twaz all about my plans for the
week. Sure, cross-country practice was high on the list, but so was
seeing Harry and visiting my Mustang. I hadn’t heard a word from
Mom or Dad about the installment plan. They had to make a decision
sometime this week, didn’t they?
Twaziem considered the question around a
mouthful of hay, but he didn’t have any real answers, and since he
wasn’t a talking horse from TV, I didn’t expect any. I just wanted
to win his trust so he’d get in the habit of believing in people
again. I needed to find him a home next spring or summer when he
put his weight on, and if he still had issues with guys, that would
be tough.
“Robin, are you down here?” Mom was in the
aisle outside the stall.
“In here,” I said. “With Twaz. I wanted to
make sure he was okay before I called it a night.”
“How is he?” Mom leaned on the door and held
out a carrot for my horse. “Any colic?”
“Not tonight,” I said. “And I’m glad.”
“He’ll do better after you deworm him,” Mom
told me. “You can’t for another two weeks since you just deloused
him, but I think that was a wise decision. You dealt with the
external parasites first. You can deal with the internal ones
later.”
Twaziem obviously thought the parasite
discussion was bogus. He reached out for the carrot instead. Three
treats later, I collected the bucket and went out to join Mom in
the aisle. She’d moved down to feed Singer a carrot, then Buster
and Nitro. Once she was finished with all the horses, we strolled
toward the house.
“Robin, have we ever talked about how horses
see?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Why?
What’s up?”
“I’m glad you’re making friends with Twaziem.
I think it’s important, but you also need to be safe. He has three
different blind spots. He can’t see below his knees.”
I remembered Rocky’s lectures about horse
vision to the day campers. “Or directly behind him and directly in
front of him, so the safest place is next to his shoulder and
that’s where I was.”
“Yes, but I’d rather you leaned on the manger
or hitched up on it,” Mom said. “If he’d jumped sideways, he could
have crashed into you. I know he’s thin, but he still outweighs you
by several hundred pounds. And horses have the reflexes of one of
your cats in hot pursuit of a mouse.”
“Good point. I’ll be more careful.” I tucked
my arm through hers. “I’m really glad you’re my mother and Vick’s
isn’t.”
Mom pulled me closer. “Yes, but she’s in a
tough situation. Six kids and no help. What would you do? What
would I do?”
“You’d kick Dad’s butt until he stepped up,”
I said. “But, I can’t imagine him leaving on my birthday or Jack’s
or Felicia’s. That was just plain mean, and I’ve never seen Dad do
a single rotten thing to anyone. How will Vicky ever have a happy
birthday again?”
“You’re her best friend,” Mom said. “I guess
you’ll have to make it happen for her next year. And she’s a smart
girl. She knows that just because somebody tries to push your
buttons, you don’t have to play ‘elevator’ for him, even if it is
one of your parents.”
“I haven’t talked to her about being so nasty
last Friday,” I said. “I feel like I should, but I don’t want to
start things up again.”
“Maybe, you could hold off and let her bring
it up.” Mom led the way into the back porch. “You need to show
compassion for her and you did, but you don’t have to be a
doormat.”
Another good point, I thought, as we headed
for the living room to join Jack and Dad in front of the TV. I
would let Vicky do the talking tomorrow. She knew I was on her side
after I babysat for her so she could go to the game and stay on the
cheer squad. But, she hadn’t said much on Friday night.
Of course, by the time I got here, she was
sacked out in my room and I hadn’t wanted to wake her. The same
went for Saturday morning when Porter, Gwen, and I went running
with Olivia and her friends. Vicky was still asleep, and since I
knew firsthand how hard she worked at her house, I wasn’t about to
get her up till breakfast. And I hadn’t heard a thing from her for
the rest of the weekend.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and
checked. Nope. No messages from her. What was up with her, anyway?
Was she so busy being a super-nanny that she didn’t have time to
call me and let me know how the first day of her internship went?
Well, the road did run two ways, so I sent her a quick text,
although I didn’t know how much time she had on her cell.
Sometimes, things got tricky since she had to pay for it herself.
Then, I plopped down on the couch to watch a trainer break a young
horse. Why couldn’t I have a normal family who turned on
sitcoms?
* * * *
Monday, September
23
rd
, 7:10 a.m.
Back in the Commons again—I so needed to get
a life. I stirred up my mocha with the straw and waited for Vicky.
I’d texted and called her about six times. No answer. Finally, she
stomped into the school and came over to the table where I sat.
“Hey.” I pushed a latte at her. “Take a load off and tell me about
your internship.”
She plopped down in the other chair and
reached for her cup. A smile flickered across her face. “My mom
says we can’t be friends anymore.”
“I don’t want to be friends with your mom.
Drink your coffee.”
“How can you not like her when my dad’s the
one who walked away?”
I shrugged. “I got to wondering how you knew
they were getting a divorce. Did he tell you on your birthday or
did she? And how long has she been playing the ‘pity-me’ card?”
“Whoa. I thought you were a blonde dipstick.
When did you start analyzing my mom?”
“When she came in on Friday night and wasn’t
sorry that she’d messed up your status on the cheer squad,” I said.
“She could have been all ‘Oh my Gawd. Poor Vicky. I’m killing her
dad.’ not ‘I had to go to work and I needed a sitter, so Vick had
to step up.’ And that totally sucked.”
Chapter Twenty
Monday, September 23
rd
, 11:00 a.m.
I grabbed an empty table in the Commons at
lunch time when I didn’t see Harry. If he showed up, he might sit
with me or he’d find another friend. Where was he? At school, I
hoped. I opened up my lunch sack and pulled out a sandwich. I’d
barely unwrapped it when I saw Dani winding her way through the
cafeteria.
She came over and put her tray on my table.
“Okay if I sit here?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Not much.” She sat down. “A lot of people
are talking about Vicky Miller’s meltdown last week.”
“Yeah. Poor Vicky.” I took a bite of my
sandwich. “When her parents divorced, her dad got the new car and a
new girlfriend. Her mom got the house, and Vick has to take care of
all her brothers and sisters. On Friday morning, they took her out
of school to babysit, and she missed the assembly.”
“That sucks.” Dani poked at the casserole on
her plate. “But, she made the game.”
“I know. I wanted to see her cheer and my
brother play, but her mom didn’t get home until after it was
over.”
“What does that have to do with football?”
Dani stopped testing the casserole with her fork. She gaped at me.
“You went and took care of all those kids?”
“Somebody had to step up and help. I’m her
best friend.”
“I’ll say. When you guys were carrying on in
front of Weaver, I thought it was just to keep Vicky out of trouble
with the principal. I didn’t know all of it was real.” Dani glanced
across the room and waved. “Over here, Vicky.”