Nothing But Horses (8 page)

I spotted Eddie trying to talk his mom out of
hers, but it wasn’t happening. She told him that he’d have to be
content with a week of summer day camp. While they walked out the
door, I heard him asking her about an upgrade so he could be a
tween counselor at leadership camp instead of riding in little kid
camp. Whoo-hoo, either way we’d be making more money off Rhonda and
I could so go with that. The woman had decided we wanted too much
for our horses so she didn’t buy Houston. Instead, she got a free
horse at a different barn. Mom had finessed her into finishing out
her lesson contract and signing up for the pre-owner package. I
planned to take more bucks from Rhonda. Like Grandpa said, “there
was more than one way to teach horsemanship.”

As the younger kids left the office, they
picked up their presents from Shamrock Stable, knit gloves wrapped
around a candy cane, carrot and hoof pick. Grandma signed the
students out to the appropriate parents and listened to the weather
reports they provided. It seemed we were in the proverbial banana
belt because the storm had come from the south again like it did a
few weeks ago. Seattle was hard hit, with three inches already and
the talking heads on the TV and radios complained that the snow
showed no signs of stopping. Vicky and Robin dashed up to the
building, Dani right behind them.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go to the house and
get your stuff.”

“Are you and Rocky changing the holiday
hours?” Vicky asked, as we headed across the yard to the farmhouse.
“Or can we still come tomorrow and Christmas Eve?”

“It depends on the weather,” I said. “Mom
will want you to be safe and if the roads are treacherous, then you
need to stay home until they clear.”

“Dad’s taking the week off,” Robin told me.
“He grew up in Montana and he says it’s no big deal. He’ll bring us
if you want us.”

“Let’s see how deep the snow is tomorrow,” I
said. “If it isn’t too bad, you can come. If it is, let’s wait
until Christmas Eve or Boxing Day.”

“Sounds good,” Robin said.

In another half-hour, we were down to family
only and we congregated in the kitchen. Grandpa put a casserole in
the oven. I started making salads. Mom sat at the kitchen table
tallying up the checks for the next bank deposit while Grandma went
through the lesson book. Autumn sat in the rocking chair near the
woodstove, her fav horsy afghan pulled up around her. Queenie dozed
on the rag rug nearby. My little sister wasn’t talking and when I
took a closer look, I realized she was snoozing too.

“If this snow sticks around after Christmas,
so will we,” Grandma told us. “We’re not heading south when we have
to fret about the roads.”

“You’re always welcome. Like I tell the kids,
it is safety first. I don’t want to worry about you and Dad driving
back to Arizona.” Mom yawned. “What a busy day. Sierra, I think
your contest was a hit. I had a lot of folks asking me if we’d do
it again next year and I agreed.”

“You had a great pool of judges.” The coffee
stopped brewing, and I filled four mugs. “Everybody won something,
even if it was just a bottle of conditioner. That worked really
well.”

Mom nodded. “I think picking up the special
conditioner at Wal-Mart was brilliant, Sierra. The students felt
like winners and we know they’ll use it on the horses, so actually
the barn will benefit big-time.”

“Dave is a decent guy,” Grandpa said. “He
told me that he wasn’t much of a rider anymore. It was good to have
him in the ring with that big fellow of Sierra’s.”

“I thought Tom rode with the intermediates
most of the day,” Grandma said sweetly. She cracked up when I
glared at her. “Oh, come on, sweetie. He’s a nice boy. And I have
to hassle your grandpa sometimes. It’s part of my job
description.”

“Okay, just as long as you know that Tom and
I aren’t dating.” I passed around the cups of coffee. “He only
wants to learn about horses so he can chase girls. He knows I won’t
be one of them.”

Grandma smiled at me. “And he’s such a smart
boy too. He told me he’s a senior and the Student Body President at
Lincoln High.”

“Not happening,” I said. “I don’t have time
for a two-legged guy. Nevada takes too much attention.”

Chapter
Seven

Shamrock Stable, Washington

Tuesday, December
24
^th
, 12:30 pm

It had finally stopped snowing, but the
temperature was still cold and the foot of snow hadn’t started to
melt yet. The accumulation in our area meant there were a few
holiday glitches. Bill couldn’t move the Mustang out of the garage,
much less tow it to Robin’s house. He wasn’t even able to drive out
of his neighborhood because it was all hills. He’d called me three
times already today to get the current weather report.

In the middle of feeding lunch hay, my cell
vibrated again. I pulled it out of my coat pocket and looked at the
screen. I answered, hoping I didn’t sound as impatient as I felt.
“Hi, Bill. Yes, we still have snow. What about you?”

“I’m stuck at home, but I talked to Robin’s
dad. He says the roads are clearing up around his place and he can
drive to Shamrock.”

“Can he get to your house?” I dropped a flake
of orchard grass hay in Aladdin’s manger. “Or shall I put some big
red bows on the garage?”

“Could you? That’d be great.”

I didn’t mean it. I was being sarcastic, but
I wasn’t about to say that to the guy. He sounded stressed enough.
In one of our previous conversations, he’d said this was his first
Christmas with Robin as a couple and he didn’t want to screw things
up. “Okay, I’ll finish feeding and see what I have left over in the
decoration department.”

“All right! Thanks a lot, Sierra. I’m going
to bundle up and start hiking out to meet Robin, Vicky, Jack and
Mr. Gibson on the main road.”

“Take care. I’ll see you guys when you get
here.” I fed Summertime, then the two ditzy palomino mares that
lived across from the rescued Arabians. “Honestly, all this hoopla
makes a person believe Scrooge was right. Bah, humbug.”

Spirit pulled out a mouthful of hay, chewed
and flicked her golden ears at me. She was the next on Vicky’s list
to train and should be pretty easy to break. Born and raised here,
the five-year-old didn’t have a clue that people could be cruel.
She figured they all came armed with treats. Still eating, she
stuck her blazed face over the door, so I could pet her.

“Carrots later, little girl. Not now. Your
sib is further up in the barn telling me to feed her before she
starves.”

I stepped back and began pushing the
wheelbarrow up the aisle, passing out chunks of hay as I went. It
really didn’t take long to feed the twenty horses in this barn. I
wasn’t mucking or watering, just giving them hay. The heavy work
came later at the end of the day. It would be time-consuming
tonight. With the snow, I couldn’t turn the horses into paddocks
for a few hours. I’d have to put different groups into the indoor
arena while I did the barn. That meant once the stalls were done, I
had to scoop up the horsy poop in the riding ring. If Santa could
have spared a few elves, it would be great.

I left the lights on to melt the snow on the
roof, and then walked out of the barn. Autumn and Queenie slogged
through the drifts to meet me, Grandpa behind the duo. “Hi
there.”

“Grandpa and me fed lunch in the other barn,”
Autumn said. “Grandma was starting to make sandwiches when we came
outside. Grilled cheese and tomato.”

“Sounds yummy.” I glanced around the yard at
the snow on the roofs of the barns, the thick white layers on the
pine trees that lined the driveway. The place looked like a farm on
a greeting card. It would have been majorly awesome if we didn’t
have horsy chores three times a day. Having Grandpa and Grandma
here made everything so much easier this time around, not like the
storm three weeks ago when Mom, Autumn and I did everything.

“Lunch will be ready for us now. Let’s go,” I
said. “After that, do you want to help me decorate the garage?”

“Why?” Grandpa asked. “There’s just the shell
of that old car in there.”

“I know. Bill can’t tow it down to Marysville
and Robin’s house today. He’s arranging for her to come and see
it.”

“Okay, I’m in,” Grandpa said. “I’ll help. I
want to see the girl’s face when she gets the outside of a car, one
without an engine or transmission.”

“It has nice seats,” Autumn said. “I helped
Bill shine up the Mustang. He promised to tell Santa that I’m a
good kid.”

“Oh, I’m sure Santa already knows.” Grandpa
winked at me, but hid his amusement from my sister. “Sierra and
your mom must have shared the news.”

“Yeah, but it’s December and I need all the
help I can get,” Autumn said, blue eyes concerned. “I was naughty
this year.”

“You? My little Autumn angel?” Grandpa
struggled not to smile. “I don’t believe it.”

“I really was, Grandpa.” My sister began to
list all her crimes from not keeping her room clean to refusing to
do her spelling test three times at school, to sassing Mom to
locking Meredith in the customer’s bathroom during tack-up.

Grandpa listened sympathetically, and then
suggested she help me put together the big surprise for Robin. We’d
see to it Santa got the word that Autumn had changed her wicked
ways. When we reached the mud-porch, she was the first one to
remove her boots and outdoor gear and head into the kitchen. Once
she was out of earshot, he touched my shoulder. “Is that why
Meredith wasn’t at the party this weekend? Did your momma finally
lose patience with the woman?”

“I did.” I shrugged out of my coat and hung
it up on a hook to dry. “Meredith really hated the contest idea.
She was so angry when we started signing up new students in the
pre-owner program. We had to do something to make money in the
off-season since we weren’t getting any sales. A lot of people
don’t want to spend big bucks on horses right now.”

Grandpa nodded. “I know, but your mom always
gives Meredith a bonus when she helps sell horses. In this down
economy, it’s hard to see the big picture sometimes.”

“She could still have had her bonus,” I said,
removing my boots. “It might not have been as much. Of course, when
the horses stay at Shamrock and the students come here to ride,
there’s more work than if they move out to other barns.”

“Exactly,” Grandpa said. “Like I said, the
big pic baffles some folks. Selling horses to homes that may or may
not work isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. I’ve had a few
heartaches over the years.”

I nodded. Been that, done there. I remembered
the time Mom and I ran into a former student at the feed store a
few years ago. We asked about the trustworthy, loving horse she’d
bought from us and learned it died of colic. She decided that
walking the gelding all night or until he had regular gut sounds
was too much like work, so she left him locked in a stall and went
to a party with friends. In that much distress, he’d managed to
roll until he twisted his intestines. Then, he ruptured them, and
Dr. Larry had no choice except to euthanize him.

“Lunch.” Grandpa wrapped an arm around my
shoulders, giving me a quick squeeze. He understood that I didn’t
want to talk about lost horses and neither did he. “Let’s go eat
and we’ll do Christmas for your friend after that.”

We’d barely finished stapling big, plastic,
red bows on the garage door when I spotted John Gibson’s car
pulling into the parking lot by the indoor arena. We started toward
the four-wheel-drive and Autumn hurried to tell Mom that we had
company. Queenie couldn’t decide whether to go with the kid or
protect Grandpa and me from what might be danger. She woofed and
ran back and forth.

“Come on, you silly dog.” I leaned down to
pet her when we reached our guests. “Hi, everybody.”

John looked around the plowed parking lot and
the drifts of snow. “You did an amazing job, Sierra. I should hire
you to come do my driveway.”

“Not me, this time. It was Grandpa.” I took a
minute to introduce the guys, although they’d talked before when my
grandparents visited. “How’s the snow down your way?”

“We have more than you do,” Vicky said,
snuggling next to Jack. “My brothers and sisters are having
snowball wars with the other kids in the cul-de-sac. I had to get
out of there for a bit so when Jack called, I was ready to come to
visit the horses for a while.”

“Bill said you could use help in the barns,”
Robin said. “We know how long chores take. He suggested we jump in
and give of ourselves. That’s our Christmas present for you.”

“Great idea.” I meant it too. I’d wondered
how he planned to convince them to visit the barn on a snowy day. I
grinned at the guy who toted a huge fifteen pound sack of carrots.
“Well, let’s go feed some of those.”

“Sounds good. You kids do that and I’ll haul
the box of gifts that Maura gave me up to the house,” John said,
turning to Grandpa. “Could you give me a hand?”

“You bet.”

Vicky and Robin led the way toward the indoor
arena. I followed them with Jack and Bill. “How are we going to get
her to the garage?”

“We have another bag of carrots in the car,”
Bill said. “I figure we’ll feed those in the top barn and then you
suggest we go to the house for hot chocolate before chores. We’ll
have to walk right by the garage and I already told her that her
present is here. She needs to look for something different on the
farm.”

Chapter
Eight

Shamrock Stable, Washington

Tuesday, December
24
^th
, 3:30 pm

We’d passed the garage three times before
Robin glimpsed the decorations and went to investigate. Her screams
of joy when she saw the Mustang brought her dad from the house as
well as the rest of us from the barn. She jumped up and down in
excitement, then hugged Bill three or four times before she kissed
him.