No Horse Wanted (10 page)

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best part.
Maybe it was being able to talk to him about life. Jack wasn’t with
us today. I could still imagine the look he’d give me and the way
he’d call me Miss Wimpy. I had to speak up. I had to ask. The worst
that could happen was Dad would refuse and I wouldn’t be any worse
off.

He passed me a mocha and put his in the cup
holder. “What’s up, Robbie? You’re never this quiet. Don’t you feel
well? I can take you home if you’re sick.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “And I want to go to
school. I did my homework so the teachers won’t be on my case, and
the team is practicing this afternoon.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

I took a deep breath and launched into my
spiel about getting a bonus if my times improved at the
cross-country meets and if I was one of the runners in my division
who made State. Dad kept driving and didn’t say anything until I
finished. He pulled up in front of the school and stopped. I
reached down for my backpack. “What do you think?”

“That I need to talk to your mom, and we’ll
get back to you,” Dad said. “I’m sorry, Robbie. I’ve been unfair to
you and that makes me feel like a jerk.”

“What? How do you figure? You’re great.” If I
ever doubted it, all I had to do was look around at my friends.
Vicky wasn’t the only one who had an absentee father. “You may not
do everything I want when I want it, but you’re my dad, not my
buddy. And I gotta go.”

“Yes, but next time you’re doing an
extracurricular sport like cross-country and I’m not treating it
with the respect I give Jack and his football, I want you to tell
me right away. Deal?”

“Sure, Dad.” I opened my door. He still
looked worried, so I leaned back in and kissed his cheek. “Hey,
don’t beat yourself up about this. If I get enough money saved up,
I can have my car.”

He managed a smile. “That fills a father’s
heart with joy. His little girl driving around town in a sports
car.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It’ll be great.” And I
hustled for the Commons so I could hang out with my friends before
the first bell rang.

The day zoomed by. None of my teachers had
heart attacks when I turned in the assignments, so I figured I’d
have to try harder if I wanted to hassle them. I really didn’t. I
just didn’t want them on my back and I hated it when classes were
boring, but maybe if I made more of an effort, my teachers might be
better. It was worth a try.

I was one of the first people to make it to
the cafeteria at lunch, but Harry wasn’t around. He didn’t show up
at all, and when I asked one of his buddies, he said that Harry had
gone to a classic auto show with his sister. I had to go by the lot
today to make sure they hadn’t taken my Mustang to the sale.

That afternoon, Gwen, Porter, and I split off
from the group and ran up 64
^th
. It was a longer rise,
not quite as steep as Golf Course Hill, but it still added on two
miles. Then, we cut north and wound through a development that
would eventually link up with the park and the route the rest of
our team ran.

Sunshine warmed the pavement and my shoulders
as I ran. Occasional puffy clouds floated overhead and a cool
breeze dusted my face. We weren’t the only high school
cross-country teams out. I spotted a few girls and guys from Mount
Pilchuck, my old school. As we cut down one block, Phillip Evans
caught up with me. A redheaded senior, he had a steady girl and I
wasn’t it.

“What’s up?” I asked, as we jogged down the
block. “Are you going to tell us that your team is the best in the
county? We already know it. We were part of it last year till our
folks moved us with Coach Norris to Lincoln because they wanted us
in a private school with better test scores.”

“No, I’m only here to tell you to watch your
backs up in Arlington this Thursday.” He ran beside me. “Wanda and
Ashley are out for blood, yours.”

“Why?” Porter asked. “We haven’t seen them
since the meets last spring, and they weren’t much back then, so we
didn’t have any trouble beating their times. And it wasn’t our
fault we went to State and they didn’t.”

“It would have been harder to hold back,”
Gwen said. “They’re so slow.”

“Not you two.” Amusement leaked into
Phillip’s blue eyes. “They’re ticked at Robin for ‘stealing’ their
horse.”

“Twaziem?” I asked, jogging in place when a
traffic light turned red. “I didn’t know he was theirs. Bartlett is
a pretty common name. And have you seen him?”

Phillip shook his head. “Nope. Why?”

I fished out my phone and pulled up the photo
I’d taken of Twaz, my walking skeleton of a Morab. “That’s him. If
we hadn’t gotten him, he’d be dead by now. The other buyer was
taking him up to the slaughter house.”

“So, tell them to get over themselves,” Gwen
finished. “And we’re not busy. We’ll leave them in the dust come
Thursday.”

Phillip laughed again. “That won’t be hard.
Good luck at the meet.” He turned and ran the other direction to
catch up with the guys from his school.

I tucked away my phone and waited while
Porter tightened the band on her ponytail to keep her black hair
out of her face. The light changed to green, and we took off across
the street.

At the next light, Porter asked, “So, when do
we get to come visit your latest rescue?”

I bumped her with my elbow. “How about Friday
night after the football game? I’ll ask my folks if I can have a
sleepover.”

“Works for me,” Gwen said. “If I were you, I
wouldn’t worry about Wanda or Ashley. They’re all mouth. It’s their
cousin, Caine, who will get you. He’s pure poison.”

“Yeah, but I have the two of you to watch my
back,” I said. “I’m not scared.”

Chapter Twelve

Tuesday, September 17
^th
, 4:20 p.m.

After practice, I showered and changed back
to regular clothes before I headed toward Dad’s office. Okay, I
actually was on my way to the Mustang Corral to visit my car. My
beautiful Presidential blue Mustang. Relief washed through me as I
got nearer to the lot. I saw it. Hurray! Brenna hadn’t taken it to
the auto show.

However, some of the others in the rainbow
herd were missing, the night-black convertible, a candy-apple red
fastback, and a canary yellow hardtop sedan. She must have sold
them. All right! She was having a good week, and that meant she’d
be more likely to listen to my pitch. I walked across the lot and
spotted Harry washing one of the sky blue Mustangs. I waved at him
and kept going toward the trailer.

He turned off the hose and jogged toward me.
“Hi. I haven’t seen you for a while. What’s up?”

I shrugged like it was no big deal when he
talked to me and my heart wasn’t racing like it was at a road
rally. “I had to finish my letter of intent for Weaver or she’d
mess with cross-country.”

He laughed, amusement deepening his dark blue
eyes to navy. Gawd, he was a hunk. Best of all, he didn’t know
it.

“Those teachers who think academics come
first.” He shook his head, still grinning down at me. “It’s enough
to ruin your life, huh?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. He might be joking, but I
wasn’t.

He walked next to me all the way to the
office. “So, your folks didn’t come in to buy that Mustang. It’s a
lot of money.”

I heaved a sigh. “They want me to pay half of
it.”

“How are you going to make that kind of
money?”

“I have some saved,” I said, “but I’ll have
to make payments.”

“Well, go talk to Bren. She charges more for
installments, and if you miss a payment, you lose the car and your
money. And you still have to get your folks to do the paperwork
because you’re under eighteen.”

Whistling, he headed off to finish washing
the car. Okay, so he hadn’t been a hundred-percent supportive, but
he’d talked to me first. That made this the best day ever!

Brenna was sitting at her desk, and she
actually had a smile on her face too. She must have made some
serious bucks at the auto show. “Hi, Robin. How’s it going? Sorry,
I missed your folks, but we got a last minute opening for the
Corral at the Tacoma Dome last weekend, so we ran down a half-dozen
cars and sold them all.”

“That’s great,” I said and sat down in the
empty chair across from hers. “My folks wouldn’t go for the car.
It’s a family tradition that we get horses on our sixteenth
birthdays, and they just didn’t want one with four tires instead of
four hooves.”

Brenna rocked back in her chair. “I have to
say that I wish my parents would have let me get a horse when I was
your age. I love them. So, what breed did they choose?”

“I had to choose,” I said. “And he’s a Morab.
It was more of a rescue than finding one I can ride. He’s on my
phone.”

“I hope he doesn’t call long distance.”

“Well, right now he’d be more interested in
calling the feed store,” I said, “but I don’t let him touch it.” I
passed over the phone so she could see the photo. “His name is
Twaziem. Well, it’s actually
Twa Ziemlich Sonne
, and my
sister came up with a translation. It means two pretty suns, and
since he’s from Earth, I think it’s a dumb thing to call a
horse.”

I knew I chattered, but she made me nervous,
just looking at the picture and not saying anything. “He might not
look like much right now, but he’s actually gained weight since
Saturday, and my brother deloused him. I thought he was part paint
because he had these patches on him, but they were lice—”

“Stop, please.” She held up her hand. A tear
trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away. “I can’t deal with
that kind of stuff, Robin. I went to war and I’m supposed to be
tough, but people who hurt animals and kids just anger me.”

“Me, too.” I took the phone from her and put
it back in my sweatshirt pocket. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you
about the car. I can’t buy it for the cash price you quoted me, but
I still want it. Can we set it up so I can make payments? What
would that cost?”

“Wow. Do you ever give up, Robin?”

I shook my head. “Coach says that winners
never quit and quitters never win. I really want that car. Now,
what do I have to do to make it happen?”

“Come to work for me as a sales rep when you
graduate.” Brenna managed a weak smile. “In this economy, I
couldn’t afford to hire you now, but things may turn around in a
couple years. Okay, let’s get out a contract, and we’ll talk about
it. But, your folks need to come in and discuss this, too. At
sixteen, you’re not old enough to make this big of a decision.”

At least she wasn’t outright refusing to make
a deal on my car. And somehow, some way, I’d make it work, I
thought a short time later. The Mustang was destined to be mine. I
patted its hood as I went by it. Soon, I’d be driving it all over
town. I almost danced down the sidewalk to Dad’s office. Inside, I
sang,
My car. My car. My beautiful car
!

* * * *

Tuesday, September
17
^th
, 5:15 p.m.

I was home in time to help Jack do chores.
While I mucked Twaziem’s stall, I contemplated how to bring up the
subject of the Mustang to my folks. Brenna had agreed to carry her
own contract, which meant I wouldn’t need a bank loan for the car.
I couldn’t get the money from a bank, anyway because I was only
sixteen.

However, she wanted the full price of
twenty-one thousand, and I’d need to make a ten-percent down
payment to start the contract. At ten-percent interest with five
years to pay it off, I’d be looking at more than four hundred
dollars each month. Brenna had told me I’d need to keep insurance
on the car, plus there’d be taxes and other fees. That didn’t
include gas or repairs.

“There has to be a way to make this work,
Twaz.” I scooped the last pile of wet shavings into his muck
bucket. “I’ll have to figure it out. Maybe, I’d better buy a lotto
ticket.”

He flicked an ear at me and kept eating. I
was lucky that my parents didn’t charge me for his food. He ate
more hay than the other three horses put together. I put the
plastic fork outside the stall and dragged in the bale of shavings.
It was easier to spread them by hand than with any of the tools
since Twaz stomped his feet and spooked anytime I got too close
with the rake or the fork.

I’d bet Caine hit him with a pitchfork or
some other wooden handle. I remembered when he picked up a huge
stick and went after a stray dog at one of our cross-country meets
last year. I’d intended to rat him out to the nearest official, but
Caine backed off when I threatened him with Jack. I brought the dog
back with me from the trail, and Coach Norris said we were supposed
to be running, not rescuing critters. It didn’t stop him from
taking home the Airedale puppy mix, which made Dad happy. He said
he was afraid I would bring it home with us, and since she was at
least six months old, he’d be paying Dr. Larry to fix her. Extra
expenses weren’t something that made my accountant father real
happy.

Jack stopped outside the stall. “Halter him
up, Robin. We need to delouse him again. After you do that, I’ll
finish the chores so you can head for the shower.”

“Come on. It’s gross. You should do it for
me.”

“If you’re planning to help Dr. Larry, you’ll
be doing a lot more gross things,” Jack said, handing me a rope
training halter and lead line. “Let’s go for it, Ms. Wimpy.”

“Why do I have to use this, instead of his
flat nylon one?”

“Because I’ll be holding him, and I want
control, not to get stomped when he has a whiff of the delousing
powder.”

“This is sounding more and more like fun.” I
pulled a carrot out of my pocket. After Twaz ate it, I tied the
halter into place. “Come on. Like Grandma says, ‘sooner to it,
sooner through it.’ And this is the last time you’ll have to stink,
buddy. Promise.”