Scarecrow on Horseback (18 page)

After breakfast Mel followed her mother into
the office. Dawn was already seated at the computer terminal. “Mom,
I need to give Sally my own gift, a really nice one.”

Her mother swiveled her office chair around
and said, “I'm sure he'd appreciate anything you give him, Mel. How
about we borrow a camera and take a picture of you and Sally
together?”

Mel shrugged. “Maybe.” But she wasn't taken
with the idea. For one thing, she hated having her picture taken.
For another, it seemed vain to expect that her picture would mean
much to him once he had returned to his wife.

* * * *

On Thursday Mel went back to school. Except
for her homeroom teacher, no one seemed to notice she'd been gone.
But at lunch Maryann, a dark-haired girl with blue eyes and broad
shoulders said, “Is it okay if I sit with you and Denise?”

“Sure,” Mel said. She was glad when it turned
out that Maryann owned a horse she had raised from a colt. She
wanted to hear all about Cheyenne when Denise said that Mel had
tamed a wild mustang.

“Wow,” Maryann said. “You must be very good
with horses.”

“She's a real horse whisperer,” Denise said
proudly.

School seemed less demoralizing now that Mel
could credit herself with a talent for something. Even if she was a
flop at math and English, she was good at taking care of horses.
She was even improving in the art of making friends.

That evening at dinner, plans for Sally's
party got extended because the owner was making an unexpected
weekend visit to the ranch accompanied by eight of his children and
grandchildren. He'd be arriving after the party, but he'd be there
Sunday morning when they said their farewells. Besides, Mr. Davis
said the owner had asked to have the typical introduction to the
ranch that guests would get.

“Got to take them out to the big barn, and
Jeb can maybe have Sally demonstrate horsemanship on Rover before
he leaves us,” Mr. Davis said.

“Seems unfair to make Sally perform,” Mrs.
Davis said. “He ought to be an honored guest seeing as it's his
last day.”

“How about Mel does the demonstration,” Sue
said. “That's what you're going to be doing next season when you
take Sally's place, isn't it, Mel?”

They were all looking at her. Most had heard
that Jeb had offered her a regular job for the following spring,
but they also knew that Cheyenne was down at Jeffries' pasture and
that Mel hadn't ridden since her accident.

“Sally'd like that, Mel being his student so
to speak. He's the one who taught you about horses, isn't he, Mel?”
Mr. Davis asked.

“Yes,” Mel said. True enough that Sally had
been the one who convinced her she had a talent worth
something.

“Mel's not riding that horse again,” her
mother said.

“That so, Mel?” Mr. Davis asked.

“I don't know,” Mel said. She imagined
herself riding Cheyenne around the ring, the indoor ring, a
confined space. That would be safe enough, wouldn't it? And to ride
Cheyenne again for Sally. She could do that much, couldn't she?

* * * *

On Friday afternoon Mel hitched a ride with
Sue who was on her way home.

“You bringing your horse up to show him
tomorrow?” Sue asked as Mel stowed the tack for Cheyenne in the
back of Sue's jeep.

“I'm bringing him up so he'll be ready,” Mel
said. She didn't know if
she
would be or not.

“I heard Jeb ask Sally if you were doing the
demonstration tomorrow morning, and Sally said he couldn't say,”
Sue said. “So Jeb asked me to do it on Rover. But it's no problem
if you want to take over from me.”

“Thanks. I'll think about it,” Mel said.

At Jeffries' gate, Sue stopped and waited for
Mel to collect her gear. After Sue had waved goodbye and driven
off, Mel lugged the tack along the fence to where Cheyenne was
standing watching her. The other two mustangs were grazing on the
far side of the pasture as usual. Cheyenne snorted a greeting,
ducking his head at Mel as he pranced up to the fence.

“So, hi,” she said. “How are you doing? I was
laid up for a while. Otherwise I'd have come down to see you
sooner. Is it fun being back with your friends?”

He reached over the fence rail and bumped her
arm. “I guess you're glad to see me, huh? I'm glad to see you, too,
Cheyenne.” She put her load down on the ground and gave herself
over to caressing his head, breathing in the warm bread smell of
him. When she kissed his muzzle, his tail swished with pleasure
like a hula dancer's skirt.

“Sometimes you do act just like a dog,” she
said. “You know that? A horse is supposed to have more dignity.
Really, he is. Of course, I'm not very dignified either, am I?” She
slipped between the rails into the pasture and got a halter on him.
Then she walked him to Jeffries' house to let them know that she
was taking Cheyenne up to the guest ranch and would keep him there
through Sunday. Mr. Jeffries wasn't home, but his wife, somewhat
distractedly, took the message with hands sticky from working her
clay.

Walking Cheyenne five miles up the mountain,
Mel wondered if the people in the cars passing by them thought she
was some kind of fool. She planned to say her horse was lame if
anyone stopped to ask why she wasn't riding him, but no one did.
She got to the ranch and left the mustang in the little corral with
barely enough time to get dressed for Sally's party. Her mother had
bought her new pants. They were tan chinos, plain enough to be
wearable. Mel ripped the tags off and was pleased to see they fit.
In Sally's honor she even wore a new sweater, the one with an
Indian design around the neck and shoulders. “Not bad,” Mel told
her mirror image and reminded herself to thank her mother for
picking so well for her.

Sally's face lit with pleasure when he walked
into the dining room and found it decorated with balloons and
banners wishing him good luck. Grinning, he sat down and read the
card which showed a man riding a cow. Inside were the words telling
him what a great guy he was and how they were going to miss him. He
laughed about the gift certificate to the western clothing
catalogue.

“You folks trying to tell me something?” he
asked.

“We don't want to send you back to your wife
looking shabby,” Mr. Davis said.

“She won't recognize me if I dress up too
good,” he said.

Mel hugged him then and gave him the handmade
card she had spent hours working on, a collage of ranch activities.
Front and center was a cut-out photo of Sally with a gold crown on
his head. Inside the card she had written, “You are the father I
wish I had. Love, Mel.”

Sally thanked her and said gruffly, “Guess
you know the feeling's mutual, Mel.”

And she did want to make him proud of her.
But she didn't sleep well Saturday night, uncertain as she was that
she should do it. Sunday at breakfast, Jeb asked her whether she
was up for the demonstration of horsemanship that
morning. 

“I'll walk Cheyenne into the barn,” she told
Jeb, swallowing dryly. “And I'll do the demonstration. But about me
being a wrangler next spring, I don't think—”

Impatiently he interrupted her, “If you're
not going to work for us, might as well let Sue do the
demonstration on Rover, Mel. I don't want to give the owner the
wrong idea about our wranglers or about our horses.”

She quivered at his challenge and was tempted
to give up and just let Sue do it. Then she could run and hide
until Sally had gone. He'd be disappointed, sure. But he'd get over
it. But what would he think of her? Mel took a deep breath, “Yeah,
okay,” she heard herself tell Jeb. “I'll ride, and I maybe I
could try doing the little kids' trail rides next spring.”

“Ten sharp then,” Jeb said. “You better show
up in that barn on that horse, Mel, or both Sally and me are going
to be disappointed in you. Hear?”

She nodded, because she had no breath left to
answer. Quickly, she walked to the small corral and stood there
holding onto Cheyenne's warm pulsing neck for the longest time.
Finally he got restless and began to sidestep away from her.

At ten o'clock Mel had Cheyenne tacked up and
ready, but she couldn't bring herself to mount him yet. Less than a
year ago Lisa had called her a scarecrow on horseback. Had she
really changed that much? Was her bad luck finally over? With a
sigh, Mel led Cheyenne across the road and entered the indoor barn.
Everyone was already seated in the stands listening to Jeb's
endless spiel about the ranch and the rules to do with riding. The
strangers sitting front and center had to be the owner and his
children and grandchildren. 

Sally was standing beside Jeb in the middle
of the arena listening to him. Jeb was droning on about how he
matched the level of riding skill to the various trails, and how he
chose which horse would be a guest's mount for the length of his
stay. Finally, Jeb turned to Mel who was standing a few feet behind
him quietly holding Cheyenne's lead.

“Now Mel here is the daughter of our
good-looking office manager. Mel's got a special way with horses,
especially sick ones. That handsome fella hanging over her shoulder
was a wild mustang, never had a saddle on him, never ridden by a
human being before Mel got hold of him. Even now he won't let
anyone but her ride him. So this demonstration of the basics of
riding may turn out to be a little unusual. But we'll see. You
ready to mount him, Mel?”

She looked at Sally. This was a test. She'd
never been good at tests, but she had better ace this one. “Go,
girl!” she told herself, and she swung lightly into the saddle. She
gathered the reins in her right hand and waited until Jeb had
finished explaining about not walking behind a horse, and which
side to mount from, and that guests used mounting blocks for
safety's sake even if they thought they didn't need them, and that
children were required to wear helmets.

“To signal a horse to walk—” Jeb said, and
Mel put Cheyenne into a walk. While she was listening for Jeb's
signal to turn left and then right, back up, turn around, trot and
lope, she was watching herself perform. She felt floaty and secure
in what she was doing. Cheyenne seemed to be concentrating hard on
getting everything just right. He had never been more responsive to
her touch. It seemed as if she could have signaled him to fly and
he would have, would have tried at least. She loped around the ring
and as she approached Jeb and Sally, she saw Sally's ear-to-ear
grin. Abruptly, she pulled Cheyenne up short right at Sally's feet
and doffed her riding helmet to him. The audience murmured and
began clapping.

“I'm proud of you, girl,” Sally said.

“I want you to be. Don't forget me,
Sally.”

“As if I could ever.”

She leaned down and kissed his cheek, then
she turned Cheyenne smartly and walked him out of the barn and back
to his corral. For a long time after she had stripped him and
brushed him down, she stood leaning against him, thinking. Nothing
remained the same in your life, not the friends you made and moved
away from, not even a substitute father who loved you but wasn't
really your father. Possibly, her mother might yet take a notion to
whisk them out of here and set them up someplace new, just as
suddenly as she had last spring. Even the horse, who felt more like
her soul mate than any human, could betray her by accident. The
unexpected was always lurking in the shadows to change life in an
instant, just like Sally said. But no longer was Mel going to cover
her eyes and hide from life. No, she would risk. And if trouble
came her way again, she would dredge up enough courage to face it
and work through it.

Next spring she would be a wrangler, the
youngest wrangler on the dude ranch. And when the storm came and
the thunder rolled close by, she would deal with it. Maybe dealing
with it would strengthen her for the next challenge. Anyway, she
was proud of herself for coming through for Sally. Anyway, she was
proud of herself at last.

About the Author

C. S. Adler
settled in Tucson, Arizona after spending most of her life in
upstate New York where she was an English teacher at Niskayuna
Middle School for nearly a decade. She is a passionate tennis
player, grandmother and nature lover, and has been a full time
writer since the publication of her first children’s book, THE
MAGIC OF THE GLITS.

That book won both the William Allen White
Award and the Golden Kite Award. Her novel, THE SHELL LADY’S
DAUGHTER, was chosen by the A.L.A. as a best young adult book of
1983. WITH WESTIE AND THE TIN MAN won the Children’s Book Award of
the Child Study Committee in 1986 and that committee commended many
of her novels. SPLIT SISTERS IN 1987 and GHOST BROTHER in 1991 were
I.R.A. Children’s Choices selections. ONE SISTER TOO MANY was on
the 1991 Young Adults’ Choices list. ALWAYS AND FOREVER FRIENDS and
EDDIE’S BLUE WINGED DRAGON were on a 1991 I.R.A. 99 Favorite
Paperbacks list. ONE UNHAPPY HORSE won the ASPCA Henry Berg Award
in 2002.

Many of her books have been on state lists
and have also been translated and published in Japan, Germany,
England, Denmark, Austria, Sweden, Norway, Finland, France, and
currently Turkey.

Website:
www.c-s-adler.com

Twitter:
@csawrite

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