On the Victory Trail (3 page)

“You are in for the surprise of your life,” Morgan said, flipping back her red hair. “I remember how clueless I was when I moved in. But I figured it out soon enough. Grounding. Grounding. And more grounding. I thought I'd never see the outside world again.”

Sooze sprawled out across the bed on her belly. “How do you get grounded when you're already
grounded
in that thing? It's not like you're going to be running away or stealing a car or anything!”

“Hey, I can drive! I drive a special van the Chambers have. I just got my license.” Morgan said as she flicked her head with a bit of pride. “But I wouldn't think of doing anything as lame as stealing the van. The Chambers have been too good to me. And besides, it's just plain stupid. Being grounded is awful. You lose phone and computer privileges, and I love playing Battleship on the Internet.” Morgan flipped the joystick on her wheelchair, sending her chair into a slow rotation. “And as far as this
thing
, it's called a Jazzy, and it can do just about anything but fly. See?”

“That's pretty cool!” Sooze said with a patronizing smile. Then she put her hands on the sides of her head and dug her elbows into the bed.

“Another headache?” Skye asked.

“Yeah,” Sooze groaned.

“Headaches?” Morgan brought her chair to a stop. “You ought to tell Mrs. C. Sounds like you need your head examined.”

“Yeah, it's probably empty!” Skye giggled.

Sooze blinked her eyes a couple of times. “Mom says it's from me spending so much time freaking out. She says I'm a walking time bomb and when the headaches stop, I'll explode. So you two better cross your fingers and hope this thumping doesn't stop, or the whole place will be Soozified!” She giggled weakly and pressed her head tighter.

Skye raised both hands, fingers crossed.

“Hey, I know what we can do,” Morgan said. She started to back out of the room. “We can all pray about it.”

“Pray? Don't think so,” Sooze snapped. “That won't do any good.”

Skye could tell her friend was in real pain. She promised herself to tell Mrs. C. about it.

“When do I get to ride?” Sooze asked Skye as they leaned up against the white fence that bordered the pasture. To their right, a poor excuse for a truck, loaded with hay, rattled down the dirt road. The hot July sun washed over the girls' faces, forcing them to shield their eyes with their hands.

“You know, Sooze, your mom might not be right about a lot of things, but she's right on about you having your brain stuck on
horses
,” Skye said. “You've only been here for two days. I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. C. have big plans for you today. But I think I know what's coming first.”

“Hey, I already know plenty about riding horses,” Sooze protested. “I've ridden lots of times at carnivals, and I even went to a riding camp once. I got my way paid on some kind of grant through the school. I always rode this one neat pony, Sugar. We'd go around and around in the corral until they made me get off.”

“Riding a pony in a corral or in a circle at a carnival is so
not
the same as riding well-trained registered horses like these,” Skye said. “Stormy knows what to do in an open field, but do you?”

“Don't get all preachy,” Sooze said. “I know what I'm doing. You'll see.”

“Yeah, you'll see,” Skye snickered. “I bet you have a lot to learn.”

“Hey, you two,” Mr. Chambers yelled as he got out of the truck, slamming the squeaky door shut. “Let's get this hay loaded into the loft. Then we'll show Sooze more of her chores in the barn!” Mr. Chambers grinned slyly.

“Great,” Sooze complained. “I can hardly wait.”

“Yeah, they're nasty,” Skye said, “especially mucking out the stalls. But at least we're close to the horses. Come on. Let's do the hay-into-the-loft thing. Then I'm sure Mr. C. will saddle up the horses.”

“What's mucking?” Sooze asked suspiciously.

“You'll see soon enough,” Skye answered with a grin.

For the next half hour, Mr. Chambers pitched hay bales from the truck to Skye and Sooze in the loft of the barn. The girls dragged one bale at a time into the back and pushed and pulled each one onto a huge stack that looked like gigantic toy blocks against the wall. Covered with hay shreds and dust, they finally placed the last bale and then hurried to join Mr. Chambers on the ground level at the horse stalls.

“Good job, girls,” Mr. Chambers said, dusting him-self off with his stained, tan cowboy hat. “Maybe the next time you should wear long sleeves and jeans like I suggested.” His mustache chuckled. “Hay dust makes you very itchy.”

Maybe I like to itch!
Skye thought to herself. “Too hot for jeans,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Well, at least you have your boots on, Skye. I guess you know what's coming.”

“Yeah, I know,” Skye said, grinning.

“Sooze, you need a good pair of cowboy boots,” Mr. Chambers added. “But until we take you shopping, I don't want you to ruin your sneakers.”

This ought to be good
, Skye laughed to herself. “Sooze, over there against the wall are a ­couple of pairs of big rubber boots. Pick the right size and put them on over your shoes.”

“What do I need them for? It's not snowing,” Sooze complained as she walked to the wall.

“No, but you'll wish it was when you see what we're getting ready to do,” Skye said.

“Skye,” Mr. Chambers said, walking away, “since Stormy is going to be Sooze's horse, how about you two start with that stall? I'll work the other side of the barn.”

“Right, Mr. C.,” Skye said as she pointed. “Sooze, get the pitchfork and shovel down from the wall hooks. I'll get the wheelbarrow, and a-mucking we will go.”

“I'm getting a bad feeling about this,” Sooze said, starting toward the boots.

“Come on. You'll love it!” Skye said, smiling. “Mucking is the only gross part of this horse stuff. Every day we have to shovel you-know-what out of each stall. But it doesn't take long to become a champion pooper-scooper. Really, it's not that bad, especially when you love horses. It just gives us another chance to be near them. And this is super important.”

Skye opened Stormy's stall and continued her instructions. “After mucking, we put a fresh layer of straw down every day. It's not only easier on this,” she said, pointing to her nose, “but it's mega-important for the horses' hooves. If they get thrush from standing in this stuff for days, they can go lame. Thrush is an infection that eats away the bottom of their hooves. And it smells worse than a garbage can on a hot summer day. So we
have to
do this. Got it?”

“Got it,” Sooze said as she crumpled up her face and held her nose. “When do I get to ride?”

“Tomorrow!” Mr. Chambers yelled from the other end of the barn. “After you get your boots.”

chapter three

S
ooze, you look like you're ready to jump out of your skin!” Skye said from outside the training corral next to the barn. Skye was sitting on Champ, and his sorrel coat was gleaming in the sun. “It's finally your turn. Hey, where'd you get those jeans and fancy boots and that hard hat?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said. “Looks like you're ready to go in the house and do some dishes.” She positioned Blaze, her Quarter Horse mare, next to Champ.

“Very funny,” Sooze said as she sat on the corral rail, waiting for Mr. Chambers to bring Stormy out of the barn. She fooled with the hard hat, trying to get it to balance on her head. “I don't need this dumb thing.”

“Girls, girls, have mercy on this poor child,” Mrs. Chambers said as she walked next to Sooze and gently touched her on the back. “Sooze, you have to wear the hat. State regulations.”

Sooze shrugged off Mrs. Chambers' hand.

I remember when I pulled away from Mrs. Chambers
like that
, Skye told herself.
Sooze, you don't know what
you're missing — a mother's real love.
“Sooze can take anything we dish out. She's t-o-u-g-h with a capital T. Aren't you, Sooze?”

Skye studied Sooze, waiting for a response, but Sooze was focused on the barn. One of the doors slid open, and all eyes shifted.

Mr. Chambers walked out of the barn leading a char-coal gray horse with a long, flowing mane and tail. The horse, dressed in a royal-blue blanket and tan western saddle and bridle, glistened in the sun. Skye gazed at the gorgeous creature, recalling the one time she rode Stormy.

“He's too big for me,” Skye said to Champ as she patted him on the neck, “but you're just right, boy.”

“Stormy is a big guy,” Morgan said, “but he's as gentle as he is big. He ought to be a good match for Sooze.”

“It's not Sooze I'm worried about,” Skye said. “I don't think Stormy knows what
he's
in for. We might see him freak out for the first time in his life when Supergirl gets on him.”

“Hey, watch it,” Sooze answered back.

“Okay, Sooze,” Mr. Chambers said as he led Stormy into the corral and closed the gate. “You've mastered your grooming, saddling, and leading sessions. Now it's time for you to mount.”

Sooze wasted no time jumping down off the fence and running toward the horse. “Finally!” she yelled, hard hat wobbling and new boots causing her to stumble.

“Whoa, slow down!” Mr. Chambers said. “You don't want to spook him. Remember, I told you to approach a horse — any horse — cautiously. Now stroke his neck and let him see you. Talk to him — softly. Let him smell you, so he can prepare himself for ‘The Great Sooze.' ”

“Sooze, you sure you wouldn't rather be cleaning your room?” Skye laughed, and Morgan joined in.

“Girls, stop it,” Mrs. Chambers gently chided. “You're wasting your breath. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“One thing about Sooze,” Skye said, “she's no chicken like I was on my first ride. I don't think she's afraid of anything.”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Chambers said. “That's not always good, especially when you're around such powerful animals.”

“Hopefully, living here will help her get her act together,” Morgan said. “At school she's on the Top Ten list of the wildest kids at Madison. Mrs. C., I think you've got an impossible mission with this one.”

“Well, with God's help, we can and will help her. Mr. C. and I are praying for her, just like we prayed for both of you.”

Yeah
, Skye thought.
We'll see.

“Up you go!” With a strong shoulder, Mr. Chambers boosted Sooze onto the patient horse. Sooze leveled her wobbly hat while Mr. Chambers checked the length of each stirrup. “Now take the reins in one hand, and I'm going to hold on to the bridle. We'll walk around in this corral until you feel ‘tall in the saddle,' as they say. Maybe in a week or two you'll be able to take him out in the open field.”

Sooze confidently adjusted her hard hat. “I can do that now. I know what to do. I've ridden lots a times.”

“Sooze, tune in to Mr. C!” Skye yelled from the side-lines. “He knows what he's talking about.”

“Patience, Sooze,” Mrs. Chambers added. “Patience.”

“But I've done this before,” Sooze whined.

Mr. Chambers walked to the front of the horse and held the bridle. “Sooze, now listen to me. You have
never
ridden a horse like this one. Believe me. This is a Tennessee Walking Horse. You have to know what you're doing to, let's say, make him
work
right. God made this breed different from all others.”

Skye scrunched up her face. She could tell Sooze didn't want to hear it.

“Sooze, why do you think he's called a Tennessee Walker?” Mr. Chambers asked.

“Because he's too lazy to run!” she retorted. “Let's go!”

“No, we're going to wait until you calm down. A horse can read you like a book, even before you get on his back. As wired as you are, Stormy might give you a ride into the next county. Now just stroke his neck and release the reins while I tell you about Walkers. This is part of your training.”

“Oh, fine.” Sooze pouted.

Mr. Chambers began. “Walkers don't trot, nor do they run like other horses. God gave them a running walk. Their diagonal legs work almost in unison, all four hitting the ground at a different time, maybe a second apart. Their back legs have tremendous overstride, which causes an even rocking-horse action when they speed up. Now, you won't feel that when Stormy walks slowly, but as soon as you squeeze your legs the right way, he will be off into the smoothest ride you've ever felt — as smooth as running water. You'll feel like you're riding on a cloud. But first, you have to learn how to get onboard. You are sitting on a blue-ribbon show horse, Sooze. Don't forget that.”

“I won't. Let's go!”

“All right. Now we're going to walk slowly in this ring for a long time. I'll show you how to stop, turn, and back up, and you can practice mounting and dismount-ing. Even though he's over sixteen hands, once you can get your foot in the stirrup with ease, I think you'll be mounting without help from anyone. Ready?”