No Horse Wanted (22 page)

She had a point. I shrugged out of my
backpack and put it in the corner. “I am going to buy a Mustang
from you someday. And I will be back to help you sell these cars to
the perfect owners as soon as you hire me.”

“Okay.” She laughed. “Then, we have a deal.
Now, tell me about your friend, the one that Harry’s been
seeing.”

“I really like Harry,” I said, “but I can’t
make him want me the way I want him.”

“No, you can’t,” Brenna agreed, passing me
the tiny boxes of spark plugs. “And you’re smart to learn that at
sixteen. I didn’t learn it till Afghanistan when I met this
dangerous, deadly, devastating Army Ranger and he became everything
I ever wanted.”

“What happened?” I ripped open the end of the
little carton. She’d been in a combat zone so the question seemed
obvious to me. I handed over the spark plug to her. “Did he
die?”

“No. We connected, and when I got home I
discovered he had a fiancée. For him, I was
Ms. Right There.
I didn’t know I was just a stopgap until he came home to
Ms.
Right
. It felt like my heart would fall out of my chest at his
feet. He’d stomp it into dust, or crush it in his hand the way that
witch does on TV.” Brenna checked the gap on the spark plug before
she slid it into place, finger tightening it first. “And I was ten
years older than you are. I should have been smarter.”

“I think you’re plenty smart,” I told her. “I
couldn’t run a place like this. My grandma says that ‘love makes
fools of us all,’ and neither of us are stupid.”

“Well, then let’s go with what your
grandmother says and believe we’ve both learned and grown a lot.”
Brenna forced a smile. “Now, what about the girl?”

“She’s nice,” I said. “Dani looks like a
model, but she’s smart and good with animals and keeps her
promises. She tries to make other people feel good, too.”

As I talked to Brenna and we worked on the
car together, I realized that I was telling the truth. I still
liked Dani, and maybe I hadn’t really seen who and what Harry was
as a person. I kept seeing him as blond and beautiful, but he was
more than a pretty face. He was a human being, and he undoubtedly
had baggage of his own. He must. He lived with his older sister,
not his parents. Did Dani see the person when I hadn’t?

* * * *

Friday, October
4
^th
, 10:10 p.m.

Bill and Jack were riding high when they came
out of the locker room to meet me and Vicky. They should be.
Lincoln High had wiped up the field with Lake Gurlock, thirty-two
to nothing. Jack made one touchdown and Bill scored two.

“Dinner first.” Jack hugged Vicky and kept
his arm around her waist. “Where do you want to eat?”

I smiled at Bill, feeling suddenly shy. “What
do you guys like? You won tonight.”

“Italian? Chinese? Mexican?” Bill grinned at
me. “What sounds good?”

We discussed restaurants while we headed
toward the parking lot and my dad’s car. We opted for a pizza place
up in Stewart Falls that Vicky raved about. I hadn’t been there
before, but Parthenon Pizza was totally cute in a checkered
tablecloth, big candles in wine bottles kind of way. And the pizza
was amazing, thick layers of cheese over meat, olives, and peppers
on a homemade crust. We took the leftovers with us, squabbling
about who would get to keep them.

Bowling was a blast too, girls against the
guys, and we won. Jack said that meant we had to buy the popcorn,
but Vicky told him that was against the rules. Losers paid, and we
would choose the movie. It was ‘chick flick’ time, and he could
just suck it up. Lots of whining ensued as he drove to the theater
for the midnight show, and I never laughed so much in my life.

We got back to our house a little before
three in the morning. Luckily, Bill and Vicky were staying over, so
it meant there wouldn’t be a hassle about curfews from their folks.
I froze when Jack pulled in the drive. I’d expected a few lights on
in the house, but not the ones in the indoor arena. Oh no! Not
again. I pushed open my door and was running for the barn before my
brother parked the car.

I passed Dr. Larry’s truck and raced in the
side door of the building. Mom walked Twaziem around the ring.

“What happened?” I demanded. “Is he all
right?”

“Colic.” Mom kept leading Twaz. “It’s a
reaction from the wormer, so it’s good that we used a mild one and
under-dosed him, rather than going by his actual weight.”

I nodded and went to my horse. He nudged his
blazed head into my side, and I hugged him. “Poor baby.”

“Poor us,” Dad told me. “Zeke thought he saw
someone around the barn and came to check things out. He found
Twaziem in distress so he started walking him. We took over when we
got home from the game.”’

“Why didn’t you call us? We’d have come
straight here,” I said. “Bill and Vick wouldn’t have minded.”

“That’s why,” Mom said. “You and Jack are
uber-responsible kids. So are your friends. Every once in a while,
you need to act like teenagers, and we need to remember to let you.
If we desperately needed you, we’d have called.”

“And this way you missed cleaning out the
gobs of dead worms that caused the impaction,” Dr. Larry added.
“Next time, Robin.”

I rubbed Twaziem’s neck. “Is ‘gobs’ a medical
description?”

“Considering what was inside him, I’d call it
accurate.” Dr. Larry stretched and yawned. “I’m headed home. Call
me in the morning, and let me know how he’s doing. I’ll swing by to
get you on Sunday, Robin, and check on him then.”

“Okay.” I took the lead line from Mom. “I
have him now. I’ll walk him. Has he pooped yet?”

“No. He doesn’t have much in the way of gut
sounds either, so keep him moving.”

Mom and Dad headed out of the arena with the
vet, just as Bill came inside. Jack and Vicky were right behind
him. I glanced at the three of them. “What a way to end a great
night. Sorry, guys.”

“Not your fault.” Bill came to walk beside
me. “We came up with a plan. You and I will take the shift now and
Vick and Jack will take over at seven. Is that all right?”

I stopped and looked up at him. “Are you sure
about this? It doesn’t sound like a fun time to me.”

He winked, then reached out to tug my braid.
“Any time I spend with you is fun.”

“A-h-h, aren’t you sweet?” I laughed and all
my worry about him evaporated. “You know exactly the right thing to
say.” Twaziem nudged him, and I cracked up again. “Oops, you’re in
trouble. You don’t have any apples for him.”

“Wouldn’t matter if I did.” Bill massaged one
of Twaz’s ears. “He can’t have them until he passes gas or
manure.”

“Wow, we have fascinating discussions. Horsy
poop.”

I started walking Twaziem again and Bill
paced me. Jack and Vicky vanished out the barn door in the
direction of the house. So, it wasn’t super romantic, I thought.
Still, there was something special about a guy who stuck with you
when your horse was sick, and who arranged to walk most the night
so you could save a life together. Next time Bill teased me, I’d
remember his good points.

During the next four hours, I learned more
about Bill. He liked sports, which I already knew since he and Jack
were on a lot of the same teams. However, he also read a lot. He
could quote speeches, poems and what he called ballads, an old kind
of story song. He claimed if I came up with a topic, he could
deliver an oration on the subject.

“No way,” I said. “You can’t possibly do
that.”

“Sure I can. Pick a subject, any subject, and
I’ll show you.”

“You’re lying.”

Twaziem snorted agreement and tossed his
head. He hadn’t bitten or kicked at Bill once tonight, even if
there weren’t any apples.

“Come on.” Bill took my left hand in his.
“You know you want to test me.”

“Okay.” I remembered the lecture in my
history class that day. “Something about the Revolutionary War, and
it can’t be King George’s quote about nothing happening on July
4
^th
.”

“All right.” Bill thought for a moment, then
began, “They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so
formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be
the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally
disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every
house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall
we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on
our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our
enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?”

“Oh my Gawd.” I stopped walking and stared
at him. “Who said that?”

Bill grinned. “Patrick Henry. It’s part of
his speech to the Virginia Convention in March of 1775. Want to
hear more?”

“You’re amazing. I’d never remember all
that.”

“You would if it interested you,” Bill said.
“I’ll bet you can tell me every detail about the engine in that
Mustang you want.”

“You’re right. Do you want to know the
specs?”

Before Bill answered, Twaziem tugged on the
rope, and I gave him a quick glance. Was he trying to lie down? Did
he want to roll? I couldn’t let him. He’d twist a gut and rupture
something. As I watched, he lifted his tail. He cut loose with a
long fart, then proceeded to take a giant dump.

Bill and I both laughed. Then, he took a
step closer and rested his hands on my shoulders. “If I kiss you,
will you turn your man-eating horse on me?”

I caught my breath. “No, but I can’t
guarantee he won’t bite you.”

“I’ll take the risk.”

He bent his head and brushed his lips over
mine. A whisper soft, sweet kiss. It ended far too soon when Twaz
bumped us with his head. He was on a mission for apples.

I touched Bill’s cheek. “Next time without
an audience?”

“Yes, but now we know he really likes
me.”

The truth slipped out before I could stop it.
“So do I.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Saturday, October 5
^th
, 1:05 p.m.

I was still stumbling around the house in my
pj’s and bathrobe when Vicky popped into the kitchen. “Hey,
Sierra’s here to visit Twaziem. Do you want to get dressed and come
to the barn?”

I yawned and stared longingly at the
coffeepot, which took forever to brew. “Sure. I’ll be right there.
Why did Sierra come?”

“So Rocky can give me credit for internship
hours today.” Vicky came across the room and took down two of the
plastic cups we took to the barn from the shelf. “I love her. She
says as soon as I turn eighteen, I can move in with her to finish
high school. And I’ll only be a slave to the horses, not my
parents, or their kids.”

“And you’re getting credit for walking my
horse all morning until he is a hundred-percent better. She’s
fabulous.” I added cream and sugar, then poured in strong coffee
from the glass pot and took a big swallow. “I’ll hit the shower and
be right there.”

“We’re grooming him and clipping him if
that’s okay.” Vicky filled her two cups. “Sierra says he needs a
bridle path, his fuzzy ears trimmed, fetlocks...You know, the whole
works so he looks like a real horse.”

“Okay, but if Dani shows up, don’t let her
polish his hooves.”

“Are you still friends with her?” Vicky eyed
me with concern. “I know that it bugged you when she and Harry
clicked.”

“That was all in my head, not his or hers,” I
said. “And it’s better to have somebody who actually sees me and
likes me, anyway. Didn’t you tell me that?”

“Yeah, but I’m glad you were listening.”

A half hour later, I made it to the barn.
Sierra ran the electric clippers while Vicky held my horse. Twaziem
didn’t like the sound, but they weren’t actually cutting any hair.
He was just supposed to grow accustomed to the noise. I took my
bucket of carrots and went over to join them. I offered a long,
skinny carrot, and Twaz took it. Crunch. Munch. Now his brain was
on me and treats. He really didn’t care what Sierra did.

She started behind his ears, trimming a
section of mane so his halter could lie on the one inch gap in his
black hair. Then, she gently folded his right ear and cut away the
excess fuzz. Two carrots later, she was finished with the left ear.
“Want me to do his whiskers?”

“Yes, but leave the ones around his eyes.
I’ll get them with the scissors.” I broke up a carrot into pieces.
“You do what you can, and then I’ll give him treats.”

“Works for me.” She stepped up, letting the
clippers buzz until he relaxed. “He’s being really good. A lot of
the colts on the farm totally freak the first time we do this.”

“The carrots help,” I said. “Dani showed me
the trick you taught her of using bribery to get results. Since he
was starved, food has a constant appeal.”

Sierra nodded. Tall, red-haired, and skinny,
she looked like a giant-sized version of her mom, Rocky. But like
her mother said, Sierra didn’t have patience for stupid
people—stupid horses, yes. She never got angry with a four-legged
critter, even when she said she’d found another two-legged one that
was a complete waste of time, space and oxygen.

She slid the clippers around his muzzle,
along his mouth and between his nostrils until he was smoothly
shaven and most of the billy whiskers were gone. When I ran my hand
over his face, I still felt the occasional bump of stubby hairs. He
wasn’t as smooth as Lady had been at the show, but I didn’t plan to
use a disposable safety razor on him. I gave him three pieces of
carrot as a reward before Sierra began trimming his chin and
jaw.

“Next time, you’ll be able to do this,” she
told me. “Think of it as part of your ground school class, only
this time we’re using your horse, not Charming.”

“Twaz is looking pretty good,” I said. “He
got his hooves trimmed last week. He’s had his first bath, lots of
grooming, and now he’s been clipped. All he needs is to gain about
six hundred pounds.”