Moon Shadow (10 page)

“How about if my dad and I take care of Moon Shadow again tonight?” Justin asked. “That way you can stay home and work on your parents.” He gave her a thumbs-up sign. “I'll be rooting for you.”

“That'd be great,” Callie said. “Thanks.” She watched as the young cowboy walked away. She wished that she could be the one to stay and feed Moon Shadow, but she knew she'd have to get her parents' permission first.

Callie shoved the papers into her pocket and went to help Susan. They finished the sick pen in just under two hours, so Callie had a chance to hurry back to Moon Shadow while Susan got ready to leave. Harvey had another bucket of milk waiting for her when she reached the filly's pen.

“This one has some powdered milk substitute mixed in with the goat's milk,” he said. “We need to stretch the milk we've got, and we're not sure if you'll be able to get a goat right away. We'd best get her used to the powdered stuff now.”

Callie walked into the pen, and Moon Shadow shuffled over in her unsteady gait. “Shouldn't she be getting stronger by now?” Callie asked in concern.

Harvey handed her the bucket. “This little girl has been through quite an ordeal. She was born before her time, and all of the stress her mother went through during that roundup didn't help her any. Her health will probably be touch-and-go for a while. We'll have to watch her closely. Sometimes these orphans seem like they're doing fine, and then all of a sudden they go downhill.”

Callie offered the milk to Moon Shadow. The filly fumbled around the edge of the bucket, her velvety-soft nose bumping Callie's hand as she lipped the sides of the pail.

“You're supposed to put your head
into
the bucket,” Callie said as she tried to guide Moon Shadow to the milk. But the filly continued to work her mouth around the lip of the pail. Finally, Callie resorted to dipping her fingers in the milk again and offering the feast to Moon Shadow. It took a couple of tries, but eventually, the filly was drinking on her own again.

Susan pulled her truck to a stop outside of the pen and rolled down her window. “Is everything all right?”

Callie nodded. “Justin and his father are going to take care of Moon Shadow tonight while I go home and figure a way to convince my parents to let me adopt her. I'll be ready to go as soon as Moon Shadow finishes her lunch.”

Callie stared into the filly's soft brown eyes, smiling at the slurping noises the orphan made while drinking her milk. She wished this moment could go on forever. The truth was, she didn't want to go home and face the adoption battle with her parents. She was afraid it was a war she couldn't win.

Ten

Callie borrowed Susan's cell phone to call Billie on the way home. She could tell that her friend was a little hurt that she hadn't called sooner, but after she heard about all that had happened, Billie understood. She was excited that Callie might have a chance to adopt the newborn foal. “Don't try to finagle your parents into anything,” she said. “They won't buy it. Just tell them the truth and hope they realize how much Moon Shadow means to you.” Callie knew it was good advice.

Susan pulled into the driveway and Callie climbed out of the truck. “Thanks for the lift,” she said.

“Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you and help you talk to your parents?” the veterinarian offered.

Callie shook her head and waved good-bye to Susan. She wasn't ready to ask her parents about Moon Shadow just yet. She needed to have all of the details straight before she approached them. This was too important to risk their saying no before she even had a chance to explain.

She looked around the property. Celah wasn't in the front paddock. The tractor sat near the barn with several of its parts strewn on the ground. It looked as if her father hadn't been able to fix the old John Deere.

Because of the late snows this year, her parents were already behind schedule with the planting. Now they would have to use horsepower to get the job done, and Celah couldn't work as fast as the old tractor.

“Callie, we're back here!” her father hollered from the plot of land he was working.

“Poor Celah,” Callie muttered. It was warm and she could see the lather under the mare's collar from where she stood. When her parents were finished plowing, she'd give the mare a bath and take her out to graze on the small patch of grass that was supposed to be their front lawn. It would give her more time to decide how to approach them about adopting Moon Shadow.

“Do you need help?” Callie volunteered.

Her mother looked up from the batch of plants they'd been growing in the greenhouse all spring and waved her off. “Go make yourself a sandwich, honey. Then you can come out and help me put the rest of these in the ground.”

Callie nodded and trotted off to the kitchen. She'd make herself a quick peanut-butter-and-honey sandwich and look over the adoption information booklet Mr. Jeffers had given her.

She kicked off her boots at the back door and entered the house, placing the paperwork on the counter. After washing her hands, she took out a loaf of whole-wheat bread that her mother had made the night before and made a sandwich, then rummaged through the refrigerator for something to drink. “Yuck!” She wrinkled her nose at the fresh carrot juice her father had made with the juicer. Pushing aside the vegetables on the bottom shelf, she reached for a root beer she had hidden there. “That's more like it.” She grinned as she gathered her things and headed for her room.

Balancing the sandwich, soda, and adoption papers, Callie made her way down the hall and pushed her bedroom door open with her shoulder. She set everything on her dresser and spread the adoption information across the hand-stitched quilt. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, she took a bite of her sandwich and opened the brochure, quickly scanning the requirements for adopting Moon Shadow.

Immediately she began to frown. They'd need a stock-type trailer to haul the filly. Her family didn't own
any
type of horse trailer. They'd have to borrow one from a neighbor. Strike one in the ball game she was about to play with her parents.

The Bureau of Land Management also required a five-foot fence for foals, and a six-foot fence for grown horses. That was one thing in her favor. With Celah measuring eighteen hands, all of their corral fencing was extra tall.

She read the next paragraph and frowned again. They'd need a twelve-by-twelve stall to house the filly. All of the smaller stalls in their barn had been taken out years ago to make room for the tractor and several tons of hay. Celah had her own twenty-foot stall, which they'd made by taking out the partition of two of the smaller stalls. It would be necessary to build Moon Shadow her own place in another corner of the barn. Strike two.

And last but not least, the $125 adoption fee.

Strike three.

The peanut butter balled in Callie's throat, making it almost impossible to swallow. She felt the sting of tears against the back of her eyes. The odds seemed insurmountable. They didn't have the extra money to adopt Moon Shadow and build a new stall, let alone pay for the medical attention the filly would need, the milk goat, and the powdered milk mix they'd need to feed her for the next few months until she could be transferred to a diet of all hay.

But Callie knew she had to try. Her parents were expecting her to help with the planting. Now would probably be the best time to ask. She gathered the rest of her uneaten sandwich and empty root beer can and tossed them in the garbage before going outside to put on her boots.

She walked slowly toward the east garden, her mind churning with what she was going to say.

“So how's the little mustang? Mrs. McLean asked as she looked up from one of the evenly plowed rows.

Callie tried to be courageous and say exactly what was on her mind, but she didn't have the nerve to ask the big question just yet. Instead she took the wheelbarrow from her mother and rolled it toward the greenhouse to get the next load of zucchini. “She's doing okay. Susan says she's got a good chance of making it if she gets constant care,” she said over her shoulder as she hightailed it toward the glass building. Then she parked the wheelbarrow inside the big door and kicked herself for being such a coward.

She reached for the small pots of zucchini seedlings and loaded them into the wheelbarrow. Tonight over dinner would be the best time to ask about Moon Shadow. Right now she needed to put in a good day's work to prove to her parents how responsible she could be.

It was late afternoon and the sun beat down on the back of Callie's neck as she sank her hands into the rich dirt and packed the new plants into place. She was about to reach for a gallon-sized tomato when Celah stopped plowing the tract and whinnied so loudly that her sides shook. The call was answered by a high-pitched neigh, and Callie looked up to see a small red pony trotting down the road. The riderless Shetland turned up their driveway and broke into a canter at the sight of another horse.

“Whoa!” Her father steadied the lines as Celah sidestepped a couple of rows and turned her head, trying to see around the blinkers on her bridle.

The pony trotted across their newly planted rows, taking out several yellow squash and a tomato before Callie put her arms around his neck and stopped him from doing more damage.

“I'll get a rope,” her mother said, taking off for the barn at a jog. She quickly returned and fashioned a makeshift halter for the little gelding.

Callie recognized Jake, the pony Luke Thompson and his older sister Jill used to ride when they were little. The Shetland had been retired when the Thompson kids graduated to the fancy quarter horses their father raised, and Jake had spent the rest of his retirement learning how to become an escape artist.

“It looks like you did it again,” Callie said as she ruffled the Shedand's fuzzy mane. “I'll walk him back to the Thompsons' when we're done,” she told her parents.

Her father moved Celah back to the row he had been plowing. “I've only got a bit left to finish,” he said. “If you wait, we can tie Jake to the back of the pickup to trot him home.”

Callie looked at the gray hairs growing on the pony's face and flanks. “The mile to the Thompsons' is a pretty long distance for this old guy to trot behind the truck. It's too bad we can't pick him up and put him in the back.” She gave Jake another pat and turned back to her mom. “I'll tie him in the barn and give him some hay while we finish up. Then I'll walk him down.”

Mrs. McLean shaded her eyes and glanced at the late afternoon sun. “Maybe you'd better get going now,” she suggested, reaching out to wipe a smudge of dirt off of Callie's face. “Your father and I can plant the rest of these tomatoes. We'll come get you in the truck when we're done.”

Callie gave a tug on Jake's halter as he stretched his lips to grab another tomato plant. “Let's go, you old Houdini horse.”

A slight breeze blew across the late afternoon landscape as Callie and Jake hit the road. The sharp smell of bitterbrush filled the air, and she inhaled deeply, enjoying the sights and sounds of the desert preparing for nightfall. Several scrub jays flitted back and forth on the sagebrush, chattering happily, and the low hum of deerflies made Jake swish his tail in agitation.

As they walked, Callie talked to the pony, practicing what she hoped to say to her parents later on. She had to adopt Moon Shadow. She feared for the filly's well-being if she didn't. Mr. Jeffers obviously didn't want to take the time that Moon Shadow needed, and it would be tough to find anyone else willing to adopt an orphan foal that would require around-the-clock care for weeks. If she didn't adopt the little mustang, there was a chance that Moon Shadow might become sickly and die.

Callie felt her heart squeeze. She'd already lost Moonbeam. The thought of losing her foal was too much. Somehow she'd find a way to convince her parents. She prayed that she'd come up with the right words and the courage to use them.

They rounded the bend in the dirt road, and the Thompson ranch came into view. Callie was always awestruck when she visited this place. The ranch house was a huge, two-story affair with tall rock chimneys at each end and a wraparound porch. Quaking aspen had been planted when the ranch was built several decades ago. The graceful trees now towered over the house, providing shade during the long hot summer and making soothing, whispering noises when the wind blew.

The ranch house was nice, but Callie's favorite building was the barn. It was spectacular. Built a year ago—after the hundred-mile-per-hour zephyr winds tore off the roof and a wall of the old barn—it sported twenty-four stalls, a tack room, a feed room, a wash rack with hot and cold water, and a saddling area. Mr. Thompson and his wife had given Callie a personal tour last winter when she had returned Jake from another one of his escapades.

The outside of the barn was white like the house, but the inside was a beautiful golden pine, varnished to a shine. On each stall was a plaque engraved with a horse's name, and on a peg outside each stall hung a beautiful leather halter.

Luke's sister Jill was riding in the outdoor arena when Callie walked by with the pony in tow. Jill was an amazing rider. She was two grades ahead of Callie and Luke and attended the high school next door to their school. Callie admired Jill, but suspected that the teenager didn't even know she was alive. Someday, she hoped to be as good a rider as Jill.

Jake gave a shrill whinny of hello to Jill's chestnut mare. The tall pretty girl with the long blonde hair halted her horse and turned to look at Callie and the pony. She gave Callie a knowing smile. “Looks like our little trouble-maker went visiting again,” she said. “My dad's in the barn.” She turned her horse in a perfect half-circle on the hind and trotted off.

Callie almost felt as if she'd been dismissed. Jill's tone was kind, though, Callie reminded herself; she'd even smiled at her.
Maybe the next time I see her
, Callie thought,
I'll be brave enough to say hello.