Moon Shadow (11 page)

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Mr. Thompson said, strolling from the barn with his cell phone held to his ear. He put up his hand to signal Callie that he'd be right with her.

Callie scratched Jake's ears while she waited for the short, stocky man to finish his conversation.

Mr. Thompson closed the phone. “Good to see you again, Callie. I see Jake's been up to his old tricks,” he said as he took the makeshift halter and lead. “I'm sorry you had to walk all the way down here. We're short a couple of stable hands. Luke's been helping, but he's not the best at locking gates and stall doors…or cleaning stalls and raking the shed row, either,” he said with a chuckle.

It didn't surprise Callie that Luke was such lousy help. He was really lazy with his schoolwork, too. She followed Mr. Thompson into the barn and helped him put the pony back in his large box stall.

Mr. Thompson turned the pony loose and returned the rope to Callie. “I don't suppose you'd know anyone who'd be interested in cleaning stalls for me?”

He made the offer in a joking manner, but it immediately gave Callie an idea. “I could do it, Mr. Thompson,” she blurted out.

The horse breeder raised an eyebrow. “Callie, you're barely big enough to push that wheelbarrow when it's empty,” he teased.

“No, really, I can do it,” she insisted. Before she knew it, her mouth was running faster then Cloud Dancer's herd across the open desert. She told Mr. Thompson everything, starting with Moonbeam dying and ending with her plan to rescue Moon Shadow. “But to do it,” she said, “I'm going to need to earn some money.”

Mr. Thompson paused, rubbing the stubble on his cheek. “That's quite a story you've got there, little lady.” He ran a hand through his short-cropped, graying hair and took another long moment to decide what he wanted to do. “I'll tell you what. I'll give you a two-week trial to see if you can handle the job. And just because you brought ol' Jake home, I'll front you the adoption money for your mustang foal.”

“What mustang foal?” Luke's head poked around the corner of the barn. “She doesn't have a mustang foal.” He looked at Callie. “And why would anybody want an old broom-tail anyway?” He picked up a rock and chucked it toward the manure pile with a smart-aleck grin. “Oh, yeah—some people can't
afford
a decent horse.”

“All right, son, that's enough!” Mr. Thompson snapped.

Callie glared at Luke and her fists balled at her sides. She wanted to push him straight into the manure pile. So what if she couldn't afford one of the Thompsons' stupid quarter horses? Moon Shadow was just as beautiful as any of those pampered purebred horses.

“Dad…” Luke began.

“Not another word,” Mr. Thompson said sharply. “Get back to your stalls.” He turned to Callie. “I apologize for my boy. Sometimes he opens his mouth before he thinks.”

That's the understatement of the year
, Callie thought.

“Don't pay any attention to Luke,” Mr. Thompson continued. “Just because a horse doesn't have a pedigree doesn't mean that it can't have value or talent.” He pointed to an old horse in the far corral. “See that bay over there? He's one of the best roping horses I've ever had. You might think that he comes from our breeding stock, but that old boy came out of the Virginia Range.”

Callie's head snapped up. “That horse is a mustang?”

Mr. Thompson nodded. “When he turns, you can see the freeze brand on his neck. The mustangs have had a long, rich history here in America, starting with the first load of Spanish barbs the Spaniards brought over in the 1500s. Rather than haul those horses back across the sea when they returned home, they turned them loose to fend for themselves.”

Callie smiled. She'd heard this story several times from old Harvey, but she never grew tired of it.

“The mustangs survived on their own for hundreds of years, and they were doing just fine.” Mr. Thompson seemed to enjoy having an appreciative audience. Callie was sure that Luke didn't have the patience to listen to his dad for more than a few seconds. “Until man had to step in and start messing things up, of course. During the Civil War, the military turned draft stallions out with the mustang herds, hoping to build up their size so they'd be of better use to the military. And up until 1971, when the federal government stepped in with a law to protect the mustang, ranchers would go out and shoot the mustang stallions and put blooded horses in their place. They were trying to make a better ranch horse for working cattle.”

He pointed to the old bay in the far corral. “Ol Butch out there probably shares some of the same blood as my registered horses. If you get a good mustang and work really hard to earn its trust, it'll make a great horse.”

“That's what I'm hoping,” Callie said, nodding eagerly. Moon Shadow would be a wonderful horse if she got the chance to raise her. And now that Mr. Thompson had given her a job, she had a lot better chance of getting her parents to say yes.

“Come on,” Mr. Thompson said as he fished the keys to his big blue truck out of his pocket. “I'll give you a ride home. I don't want you to be too tired to start work tomorrow.”

Callie climbed into the shiny new vehicle and sighed in relief. Things were definitely looking up. Now all she had to do was convince her parents that Moon Shadow would be a great addition to their family.

Eleven

“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Thompson.” Callie waved goodbye and walked up the driveway to her house. She could see her father out by the barn giving Celah a bath. Her mother was just putting away the wheelbarrow. Callie smiled as she kicked off her boots by the back door. She finally had some bargaining chips now.

As she opened the door the smell of pot roast drifted in from the kitchen, making her mouth water. She quickly changed her clothes and set the table for dinner. Her parents soon joined her.

“That was nice of Mr. Thompson to bring you home,” Mrs. McLean said. “We were just getting ready to come get you.” She washed her hands in the sink, then took down a large serving bowl from the cupboard.

Callie poured the milk and took her chair at their small, cloth-covered table, waiting for her mom to dish up the food. She swung her feet back and forth, bumping them on the chair leg as she waited for the right time to broach the subject of adopting the orphaned mustang. Her mother set a plate of meat, potatoes, and carrots in front of her, but Callie couldn't bring herself to take a bite. Instead, she pushed the carrots around on the plate and cut the pot roast into a hundred small pieces.

Her mother gave her a sideways glance, but Callie held her tongue. The moment wasn't right yet.

“So how did things go at the mustang pens this morning?” her father asked as he helped himself to another portion of meat and potatoes. “I heard you tell your mother that the little filly is still alive.”

Callie nodded. “Moon Shadow's drinking milk now,” she said proudly. “Harvey and I taught her how to lap up goat's milk from a bucket, so at least she's eating on her own.” She nudged her full plate away. “But Mr. Jeffers doesn't want to have to take care of an orphan. He says he doesn't have the manpower to do it. I'm afraid of what's going to happen to her.” She waited to see what her parents would say.

Mrs. McLean pushed Callie's plate back toward her and motioned for her to eat. “I'm sure with all of the wild horse organizations around here, they won't have any trouble finding a good home for Moon Shadow.”

Callie dropped her fork on her plate with a clang. “N…no!” she sputtered. “That's not what I meant!”

Both of her parents stared at her in confusion. “Why wouldn't you want someone to adopt her, Callie?” her mother said. “I'm sure she's going to need constant care for quite a while. If Mr. Jeffers doesn't want to do it, it would be better to give the filly to someone else.”

Callie took a deep breath, “
I
want to be the one to take care of Moon Shadow.”

“But you
are
taking care of her, dear.” Mrs. McLean smiled and folded her napkin, clearly not understanding what Callie was getting at.

“Mom…Dad…I want to
adopt
Moon Shadow.” Callie turned to her father, hoping to find an ally, but he looked just as surprised as her mother.

“We can't afford another horse,” Mr. McLean said flatly. “Especially a horse that could have a lot of medical problems. It's hard enough just feeding Celah.”

“But Moon Shadow wouldn't eat much,” Callie protested, looking from one parent to the other. Neither of them looked agreeable to the idea.

“I can pay for everything,” Callie continued quickly. “I have a job now. Mr. Thompson hired me to clean stalls.” She pushed her plate away once more. Her appetite was totally gone. “He said he'd pay for Moon Shadow's adoption fee and he'd take it out of my paycheck. It won't cost you guys anything.” She turned to her mom, then her dad. “Please say yes,” she begged. “I can do this. I know I can! Moon Shadow's going to be a great horse.” She chewed her bottom lip as she waited for their response.

Mr. McLean folded his napkin and laid it on the table. “Callie…”

“Please, Dad!” This wasn't the way she had hoped the conversation would go. “Moon Shadow is so little and helpless. She needs me!”

“But Callie,” her mother interrupted, “that filly will probably always be little and weak. If you're really serious about getting a horse, maybe you could save up your money from cleaning stalls and buy an animal that has potential. You know, something you could take to the local 4-H shows, and use to help us with the farm.”

“And remember the old saying,” her father added. “It costs as much to feed a good horse as it does a bad one.”

Callie sat there stunned, feeling as if she had just been bucked off and stomped on.
Moon Shadow, a bad horse?
How could her parents say such a thing? “Why do people say things like that about mustangs?” she said hotly. “Just because they don't have a pedigree doesn't mean they can't be good horses! You've seen some of the beautiful mustangs that roam the hills around here.”

She pushed away from the table and stood up so quickly that her chair toppled over backwards. Her heart was pounding against her rib cage and there was a roar like a waterfall inside her head. She knew she should bend down and pick up the chair, but at that moment all she could see was her dream of owning Moon Shadow slipping away.

“It's not fair!” she cried, her voice rising to a level of hysteria. “I want this so badly and I've got the money to do it. You're just being mean!”

By the stricken look on her mother's face, Callie knew she'd gone too far, but it was too late to stop. She felt the horrible words tumbling out of her mouth and she couldn't stop them. “The kids around here see our little-bitty house and all the junk in our yard and they make fun of me. They laugh at my clothes and think I'm just some dorky hippie kid who's not good enough to be friends with. Just because we don't have as much money as they do, they think they're better than me. But I get better grades than all of them!”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she wiped at them angrily. “I'm kind of like Moon Shadow. I don't have a fancy pedigree worth a lot of money, so the other kids think I'm not good enough.” She plucked at her new shirt in agitation. One of the buttons popped off and rolled across the floor.

As the sound of the plastic button skittering across the hardwood floor faded to total silence, Callie saw the hurt expression on her parents' faces. She'd really blown it this time. She looked down at her shirt, which now had a torn sleeve. Not only had she wrecked her clothing, but she'd also done a darned good job of tearing up her mom and dad's feelings.

Callie kept her eyes down, afraid to look at her parents. She could feel the sob creeping up in her throat. Without warning, she burst into tears and ran to her room, where she threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the pillow. It was bad enough that she'd never realize her dream of owning Moon Shadow, but now she'd been horrible and disrespectful to her parents. Recalling the sadness on their faces made her cry even harder.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there on the bed, but her tears were almost gone. The only things left were the hiccups, puffed-up eyes, and stuffy nose. Callie felt a sudden weight on the edge of her bed and opened her swollen eyes to see her mother perched there. She had thought she was done crying, but more tears rose and rushed down her cheeks.

“Don't cry, honey,” her mother said softly, reaching out to stroke Callie's hair.

“I…I'm so sorry, Mom,” Callie stammered between sobs. “I said some really rotten things. I didn't mean it about my clothes. I know how hard you work to make them, and I do like them…well, most of them. Just not the tie-dyed stuff,” she added with a loud sniff.

“Shhh,” Mrs. McLean said, handing her daughter a tissue to dry her eyes. “I know how difficult it is to be a kid sometimes, especially when you don't have all the luxuries that some of the other kids have, but you've been a pretty good daughter so far. Why don't we just let this one slip, okay?” She wiped a tear from Callie's cheek. “Maybe we'll even take a trip into town next week and see if there's anything at that new superstore you might like.”

Callie sat up and blew her nose. “Is Dad really mad?” she said in a small voice. “I said some pretty ugly things about the house and yard.”

Her mother handed her another tissue. “Well, I suppose we're both a little hurt, but we'll get over it.” She brushed Callie's hair off her tear-soaked face. “Here's what we've decided to do.”

Callie sighed. This was it. She was going to be grounded for life.

“Your father and I have decided to let you adopt that little mustang,” Mrs. McLean said.