Scarecrow on Horseback (7 page)

“He must be a pretty nice stepfather if he
bought Lily for you,” Mel said.

“Yeah, he is. He doesn't get mad and talk big
like—like some men.” Mel had no doubt which man Denise was thinking
of. “Does your father work on the ranch here?” Denise asked.

“No, my mother works in the office. I don't
have a father.”

Denise wrinkled her nose in disbelief.
“Everybody has a father, don't they?”

“Well, I mean, he left my mother when she was
pregnant. So I never knew him. So I never missed him. I mean—”

“Yeah,” Denise said. “I get it.” The sympathy
in her voice made Mel like her even more.

“How about coming over Saturday?” Denise
said. “If you don't want to borrow a horse and ride over, and your
mother can't bring you, maybe I could get my mother to do it,
that's if she's not working that day. She works most weekends in
the restaurant. Ty's home, but I don't like to bother him so
much.”

“I'll figure something out,” Mel said.

“Great! Anytime you want to come is fine.”
Her face was glowing with delight at the promised visit. “I'd
better head back now. This is the longest ride I've ever taken Lily
for. She'll need a good rub down before I put her back in the
pasture.”

“Lily likes to be fussed over,” Mel said.

“Well, I like doing the fussing. Bye, Mel.”
She unhitched Lily and sprang lightly onto her back. The horse set
off the way she'd come without a backward glance at Mel.

“Bye.” Mel watched them go off down the road
with a bittersweet mixture of gladness and regret.

Sighing, she put Colby back on the lunge
line. Half an hour of walking and trotting on command and she told
him, “You're doing good. You've got the idea now.” He pawed the
ground, waiting, and she gave him the carrot strips she'd saved
from last night's salad bar as a treat. “You do love your veggies,
don't you, Colby,” she said, and she asked him, “How would you feel
about being my special horse? Hmm?”

She was thinking about how it would be to go
riding with Denise and Lily, if she had a horse she could ride, a
special horse, one that might be her own someday. “Colby,” she
asked him, “would you like me as much if I were on your back as you
do when I'm feeding you carrots?”

Colby didn't answer, but his ears twitched
attentively as he listened to her. “So maybe it could be you and
me, huh? Maybe,” Mel led him back to the big corral and set him
loose.

When the dinner bell clanged, Mel hurried to
the dining room and took her usual place at the staff table between
Sally and her mother.

“Sally says Sue brought her cousin over to
meet you today,” Dawn said.

“Yeah, Denise invited me to her house
Saturday. Could you drive me? It's not that far.”

“Oh, I don't know honey. Not this Saturday.
I've finally got a dentist appointment in town, and after that,
I've got errands that'll take most of the afternoon.”

“Well, okay,” Mel said. “I guess I could get
there another way.” She thought of how it would be to walk into the
new school this fall with a friend beside her, how it would be to
have someone to sit with at lunch, not to be the silent outsider
waiting like a beggar for an invitation, a smile. No matter that
her mother had changed jobs and moved them frequently throughout
Mel's life, she'd never gotten used to the naked feel of being new.
The worse was walking in in the middle of a school year. At least
this time she'd begin at the beginning. She could get to Denise's
on horseback. It couldn't be that hard to learn to ride, could it?
Anyway, fate seemed to be pushing her to do it.

“How'd Colby do on the lunge line?” Sally,
who was sitting next to Mel, asked.

“Good. He's a nice horse.”

“You think so, huh?”

“I was thinking, maybe you could teach me to
ride him?”

Sally looked at her in surprise. A wide grin
spread across his cheeks so that some of the crusty sourdough bread
he favored showed in his mouth. “Be glad to,” he said.
“Tonight?”

“Tonight,” she replied.

It was still full light out, but the moon was
a blind eye overhead, and the chilly air was so still there wasn't
a whisper in the trees while Mel waited in the small corral with
Colby. She had tacked him up, but her hands were icy as she fussed
with his mane, making little braids in it and hoping that he
couldn't sense her anxiety.

When Sally arrived, Mel was thinking about
Lily and wondering if Hojo had been as lucky. “Where do you think
Hojo is now?” she asked Sally.

“Don't know, Mel. Sold to some farmer
maybe.”

“I hope they aren't making him work too
hard.”

“He's a strong horse, and like you and me, he
probably don't mind working.”

Wistfully, she asked Sally, “So how long
would it take me to earn enough to buy my own horse? I mean, if I
ride and Jeb pays me a wrangler's wages?”

“Depends on how much horse you want to
buy.”

“Maybe I could get one cheap, one that nobody
wants but me.”

“Maybe.”

“Well,” I guess I should get started.”

“I'll give you a boost up,” Sally
offered.

“That's okay. I can manage.” Mel gave Colby a
loving pat, slid her booted foot into the stirrup, and slung her
other leg up over his back. While Sally adjusted the stirrups for
her, she patted Colby's neck and told him, “Now you better go easy
and don't make me look bad, hear?”

As if he'd understood her, the tall,
pepper-spotted horse stood perfectly still as she set the reins in
her hand as Sally had taught her. Her legs were quivering, but she
sat erect while Sally checked the cinch. Colby seemed relaxed with
her weight on his back. Mel barely touched her heels to his sides,
and he started walking like the most obedient of animals.

“How do I look?” Mel called to Sally.

“Like a rider.”

“Well, am I sitting correctly or not?”

“A little stiff. You can relax. Loosen the
reins just a tad so he don't think you want him to back up.”

She made her cold fingers light on the reins.
She and Colby went around the big arena at a leisurely pace with
Sally watching them. He looked so anxious that Mel teased, “What's
the matter, Sally? You scared?”

“Guess I am a little,” Sally admitted. “Not
sure I trust that horse.”

Mel laughed. “Colby's okay. You always say
horses have preferences just like people. Well, I think Colby
prefers me.”

“Looks that way so far,” Sally said.

“So teach me something else about riding,
Sally.”

“Nothing to it. Just remember to keep your
heels down in the stirrups. A cowboy rides on the balls of his
feet. And if your mount needs to relieve himself like Colby's doing
now, you rise up a ways from the saddle to get the pressure off his
kidneys.”

Mel tried it. She could feel the metal of the
stirrups under the soles of the old boots she'd borrowed from the
ranch's collection, but still, she felt secure enough standing up
from the saddle. She smiled. She was learning. She could do it, not
beautifully the way Lisa did it, but not as clumsily as she'd
thought either.

On a surge of pleasure, Mel leaned forward
and clucked at Colby. He broke into a smooth trot. Twice around the
inside of the fence he trotted until she put him back into a walk.
It had felt good, Mel thought. Trotting had actually felt good. She
was so elated that she couldn't stop smiling.

Half an hour later Sally asked, “Had enough
for one night, Mel?”

She brought Colby to a halt next o Sally.
“Colby was great, wasn't he?”

“I'll say. You both did great.” His grin
radiated pride in her.

But her legs felt weak when she slid off the
horse and stood on the ground again. Without being asked, Sally
relieved Colby of his tack. He nodded at Mel and led Colby on his
way back across the stream and across the road to the path up the
mountain where he could rest with the other horses for the
night.

* * * *

That Saturday the rain came down as if it
meant to drill holes in the earth. Mel called Denise who said to
please come anyway even if they couldn't ride. “Sue can bring you
over,” and of course, Mel's mother agreed to take Mel home on her
way back from her afternoon in town.

The gusting wind made driving hard, and Sue
watched the road carefully as she drove Mel over to Denise's house.
“My aunt was raised in Colorado,” Sue said, “but she went east to
college and got married and had a baby, and the family thought
she'd never come back. Then she got divorced and came home with
this black artist she'd married out of the blue. Everyone thought
she was nuts, but Ty turned out to be a great guy, and he's
wonderful with Denise, who's a sweetheart. Don't be put off by Ty's
wild paintings now. They may look weird, but people pay a lot of
money for them.”

Mel didn't see any paintings that day. They
pulled up in the driveway past the mailbox painted with a
psychedelic coyote, and Denise immediately hustled Mel upstairs to
her bedroom.

“Ty's behind on work he promised for a show
next week and my mother's at the restaurant, so we can just hang
out in my room and talk, okay?”

“Fine. What's Lily doing?”

“I already took care of her. She's in the
barn. Do you want to go see her now? Or we could wait until the
rain lets up some?”

“Sure, we can wait,” Mel said, although she'd
been looking forward to communing with Lily.

They played Cribbage, which Denise said Ty
had taught her, but she seemed embarrassed that she kept winning
even though Mel assured her she didn't mind.

While the rain slashed at Denise's window
pane, Mel looked around. Pictures of horses filled the room and
Denise's bookshelves were crowded with horse stories and models of
horses. When she saw Mel looking, Denise said, “Boring, huh? I've
got a one track mind. My mother says if I'm not careful I'll grow
up to be a jockey. But actually, I might like that.”

“Well, you're little enough.”

“Not brave enough though. I'd get scared in a
race with all the other horses pounding past me.”

“Then you'd have to stay in the lead,
wouldn't you?” Mel asked.

Denise laughed. “I'd rather run a stable.
Want to go into business with me?”

“Yes!” Mel agreed with such enthusiasm that
they both laughed and proceeded to brainstorm a name for their
business. When they finally settled on Easy Riders, Denise said it
was time for a snack, so they went down to the kitchen to raid the
refrigerator. Denise put together what she called “a nutritious
dessert.” It was fresh strawberries with whip cream from a can on
top of slices of sponge cake. “Fruit and eggs and milk—nutritious,
right?”

“And lots of sugar. Delicious,” Mel said.

Denise wouldn't let Mel go that afternoon
until she agreed to come every Saturday until school began. “I'll
ride over on Colby next week,” Mel promised with confidence because
at last things seemed to be going right for her.

* * * *

Before the new guests arrived that next week,
Mel told Sally she wanted to try riding Colby on the easiest of the
trail rides the ranch offered.

“Okay,” Sally said. “I'll follow behind you
on Rover.”

The trail was only a few miles long. It went
down the road a half a mile, across the bridge over the stream, and
then up the hill and around the lake the beavers had made. If
riders were lucky, they could glimpse the broad-beamed animals
adding sticks to the dome of their underwater home, maybe even
dragging a gnawed sapling to the water's edge.

Colby was fine on the road. He stayed calm
even when a pickup truck rattled past them going the other way. But
as soon as they got to the bridge, he stopped. Mel kicked him
harder. Colby had stopped and there he stayed.

“Come on, giddiap, Colby,” Mel ordered. “Come
on; it's just a little wooden bridge. It won't hurt you.”

Three times, she kicked him, bouncing in the
saddle with the effort of it. He backed up two steps and stood.
“Want me to get you a stick to tap him with?” Sally asked.

“No way.” She slid off Colby and, with the
lead line in her hand, walked to his head. “Listen,” she said to
him, “You're being silly. There's nothing scary about that bridge.
Come on. I'll show you.” She tugged at the lead line and began
walking across the bridge herself. At first Colby wouldn't budge.
He tossed his head, trying to get loose, but she held on.

“Come on,” she coaxed. “Be brave.”

She backed onto the bridge and clucked at
him. The skin above his eyes puckered. His nostrils flared. She
came up close to his head and rubbed her knuckles gently along his
nose. He sighed. She caressed his neck and asked, “Please. I
thought you trusted me, Colby. I wouldn't hurt you. You know that.
The bridge is really okay.” She stepped backward onto it again and
put some pressure on the line. He took a tentative step forward.
Then he huffed and stopped and shook his head. He took another
step. Now his two front feet were on the bridge.

“See, it's going to hold you up just fine.”
She turned and walked ahead of him. And to her delight, he
followed.

Once they'd both crossed the bridge, Sally
applauded. “Way to go, Mel.”

“Maybe if I do it a few times, he'll get used
to it. You think?”

“You're the one knows him best.”

She walked Colby back and forth across the
bridge four times. Then she got on his back and rode him across. He
went without protest. When they got to the flat path around the
lake, Mel sat forward in her saddle and gave Colby the signal to
trot. She didn't see any beaver, but she rode the tall speckled
horse back to the ranch in triumph.

“Better try him out a few more times before
we tell Jeb he's ready for guests.”

* * * *

Colby put in a week of perfect behavior,
during which Mel rode him for a couple of hours every afternoon. On
Friday, she announced at the staff dinner table that Colby was
trained.