High Hurdles Collection Two (55 page)

“Good, then we won't be the only ones to have to answer questions.” DJ shucked her school clothes and pulled on her barn jeans and T-shirt. Grabbing her boots, she jogged in her stockinged feet back downstairs and into the kitchen for something to eat before leaving for the Academy.

“Dinner at 6:30.” Maria nodded toward the clock.

“I might be late, since I'm getting over there late.”

“You be here.” Maria continued grating cheese. “Enchiladas tonight.
Muy bueno”

“You make everything very good.” DJ waved her apple, then clamped it in her teeth and, leaning against the wall by the door, pulled on her boots. She walked out the door just as Joe drove back in the yard.

“The vet said to call around noon tomorrow to see if Major can come home. I'll ask Mom if I can go along.” She gave her grandfather an innocent look. “Unless you can't go tomorrow?”

“Oh, I can go, but you can't, so don't bother getting your mother all het up.”

“GJ, please.”

“Uh-uh. Mel said she'd go along. We plan on a nice early lunch, then pick up the horse and drive home before the traffic hits. You'll be working Herndon by the time we get back. I already checked with Mrs. Yamamoto, and she will pick you two up after school. Now, aren't you proud of your old grandpa for taking care of all this?”

DJ wanted to cross her arms and stick out her tongue. “But …”

“Nope. No argument is going to work, so forget it. Major's been through worse.”

“But it wasn't my fault before.” She muttered the words under her breath.

“I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. And you can pretend you didn't say it, let alone think it. Okay?” He stopped the truck in the shade of the Academy barn and turned to look at her. “Ah, DJ, learning to not blame yourself is a hard lesson, one that you have to go over again and again. There is no easy way out of this except to keep going over it until you learn to let God handle the judging. And He won't blame you, so let it go.”

“I'm trying.” DJ studied her tattered cuticle. Her fingernails needed cutting. “You think Mom will let me spend the night here to take care of him?”

“I wouldn't ask.”

“I guess not.” She glanced up, feeling her grandfather's warm gaze on her face. “Do you ever play ‘what if or blame yourself?”

“Yep. But I'm trying to quit that, too, and let me tell you, I've been trying a whole lot longer than you.”

“Then … then …”

“Then why try?”

She nodded.

“Because I'd probably be dead of a heart attack or stroke or something if I worried like I used to or blamed myself for the accidents or figured everything was all my fault. Darla Jean Randall, you are far ahead of me in learning these things, and I'm grateful you ask me questions like this. Now let go and let God.”

“Let God what?”

“Let Him be God and you be Darla Jean, one of His favorite daughters.”

DJ left the truck with his words winding through her heart and mind.
Let God, huh?
Somehow the thought that her grandfather struggled with some of the same things she did made her feel comforted. She picked up a grooming bucket on her way past the tack room, along with treats for Herndon.

“Hi, big guy.” Herndon extended his nose to sniff her pockets. “Ah, getting into the habit, huh?” She gave him half a horse cookie, followed by a carrot. With her hands empty, she stroked down his long nose and up around his dark ears. His muzzle had light brown hairs that deepened to black ears and mane. A few white hairs formed a little whorl midway between his eyes.

“You know what? You are one fine-looking horse, and I am proud to know that you are mine. What do you think?” His ears flicked back and forth, and he sniffed her hands again.

Outside of his stall, in the barn alley, she snapped the cross-ties in place and began grooming the sleek, dark hide, more black than bay. With both hands occupied with brushes, she kept jerking her mind back to what she was doing when it wanted to head on over to the vet hospital and check on Major. When Herndon was so shiny he looked like he'd been sprayed with water, DJ led him out to the hot walker to burn off some energy while she shoveled out the latest droppings. She could tell Joe had cleaned the stall that morning.

By the time Herndon was saddled and she'd warmed him up, Bridget was standing at the gate, talking with Bunny.

“I will be ready in a minute, DJ. You go on and warm up over the jumping grid.”

But by the end of the lesson, when DJ and Herndon were both dripping, all she could think was how far they had to go to become a team— and how much she missed Major.

The next afternoon, before she worked with Herndon, she stopped by Bridget's office.

“You got a minute?”

“For you, yes.” Bridget pushed her glasses up on her forehead. “What do you need?”

“It's about this weekend. Do you think I should show Herndon or just cancel?”

“What do you think?”

“I'd rather stay here and take care of Major.”

“This would be a good first show with Herndon. As we have said in the past, the more you show, the better you will become.”

DJ nodded. “I was afraid that's what you would say.”

“Then why did you ask?”

DJ shrugged and thought a moment. “I … I just don't feel comfortable with him yet. Like … I'm always just a tiny bit behind.” She spread her thumb and forefinger apart about an inch. “And if he refuses a jump, I'll about die.” There, she'd said it, one of her worst fears. The airborne feeling from Major going down shuddered up her spine.
What if Herndon got hurt, too?

Chapter • 12

DJ was right. She hated to leave Major again.

“He'll be all right.” Joe rubbed his old horse's ears. “He's a bit skinnier, but then, he was getting fat.”

“He was not.” DJ laid her palm on her horse's shoulder. Still hot to the touch and tender. But at least he had quit shaking. The brief walk from trailer to stall gave him the shakes so bad, DJ's teeth rattled. She rubbed in the liniment, murmuring comfort all the time. “Brad said he'd bring down his ultrasound machine to help reduce the swelling.”

“Don't worry, kid, we got stuff here to help him be more comfortable.” Joe hefted the sack of anti-inflammatories and pain-killers. “And those ultrasound machines are pretty impressive. A doctor used one on me one time, and I healed twice as fast.”

Major snuffled her hair and blew carrot breath in her face. His whiskers tickled and made her smile. “You old lover, you.” She wrapped both arms around his neck and felt him sigh. He braced his weight on three legs, the front one cocked. “I wish there were more I could do to help you.” She looked at Joe. “What if he tries to lie down tonight and can't get up? He'll hurt it worse.”

“He's too smart for that, aren't you, old man?” Major cocked his head so Joe could continue to rub his ear.

“Don't call him old.” DJ stepped back. “I've got to work Herndon, Major, and then I'll be back. You be good now.”

“And I've got to move the truck.” Joe had backed the trailer through the barn so Major had only to hobble down the gently sloped ramp and right into his stall.

“You think we should cross-tie him so he won't move around?”

Joe shook his head. “You've got to give him credit, DJ. He knows how much his shoulder hurts and that walking makes it worse.”

DJ kissed Major's nose and gave him one last pat. “See ya, fella.”

He nickered as she left the stall. It took all the strength she could muster to go back down the aisle to Herndon's stall inside the barn. While the big horse watched her, his nostrils never moved in either a soundless nicker or a vocal welcoming one. His ears pricked the closer she walked, and he finally reached for the treat he already knew would be in her pocket.

Don't be stupid
, her little voice reminded her.
You haven't had him long enough for him to love you like Major does. Besides, remember, some horses by nature aren't affectionate. Just like some people aren't
.

But the urge to return to Major made her grit her teeth.

“I do think you should go ahead with Saturday's show,” Bridget said later. “The more time you spend with Herndon, the better.”

Guilt made her stomach twinge. Major needed her, Herndon did not. Afraid that all her thoughts were like a video across her face, she nodded. “I will. Who else is going?”

Bridget handed her the day's schedule. “At least you will not have to leave at daybreak. And you can come home as soon as you are finished.”

“I guess.”

“DJ, Major will get better.” Bridget's voice took on a softer note. “I know you are concerned about him, but you cannot let that interfere with your work.”

DJ nodded and let out a sigh that made her shoulders slump. She nibbled her bottom lip, then looked up at her coach. “You think I will ever love Herndon like I do Major?”

“I think so, yes. But there is something special about the first horse you ever own. And that is good. Major has a unique place in your heart, but with love, there is always room for more. And the more you give, the more you get.” She leaned forward. “Give it time, DJ. Give it time.”

The show on Saturday went okay. At least she didn't end up on Hern-don's neck, and the ribbons they brought home from Hunter on the Flat and Hunter Over Jumps did help her feel a bit better. Herndon had class, that's for sure, and he loved the show-ring. The low bars on the jumps hadn't bothered them much, but she could still feel him hesitate. Not trusting her horse gave her a headache by the end of the day.
This, too, will change
. She repeated the promise to herself several times in the hopes she would begin to believe it.

“We's going to see our pony, we's going to see the pony.” The boys' chanting when DJ came in the door after the show didn't help her headache any.

“Okay, okay, give me a minute.” She knew by the hurt looks on their faces that her tone had been sharper than she intended. “Sorry, guys.” She ruffled their hair and touched their noses with one finger. “Let me put my show stuff away and I'll be right back down.”

“We was waiting for you.” They wore matching kicked-puppy looks.

Guilt again. This time it tightened the vise around her head.

“DJ, what's wrong?” Lindy strolled out of the living room, her finger holding the place in the book she'd been reading.

“I've got a headache, that's all.” DJ rubbed her neck.

“That's not like you.”

“I know, but …” DJ scrinched her eyes closed. “Let me get something and I'll be ready to go.” The thought of all the homework piled on top of her desk made her groan inside. She'd planned to get that paper that was due Monday done last night, but it was taking a lot longer than she thought.

“I'll sit in back with you and rub your neck. That might help,” Lindy called up the stairs after her daughter.