No Horse Wanted (23 page)

“Well, that will take time,” Sierra said.
“Don’t count on him being up to weight for at least another six
months.”

“We’re not going to wait that long to start
training him, are we?” I asked.

“No way. There’s a lot he can learn in the
meantime,” Sierra said. “And you don’t want him to just stand
around and eat. He’ll lose muscle tone and get ornery. He needs to
work so he learns to respect you, or he’ll think he’s large and in
charge.”

That made sense, and I was glad to hear it. I
didn’t want him staying in his stall and eating his head off when I
meant to find him a home. A real home, not just the one he had
here, but the kind of home a horse deserved, with people who
honestly loved and cared for him. He’d have better luck if he knew
what was expected of him. I’d learned that when I adopted and tamed
feral kittens. If they’d cuddle with their new owners, they
received more love.

The gate opened and Dani came across the
ring. “Hi. Your mom said I’d find you down here with Twaziem,
Robin, and it was okay if I came to hang out with you guys.”

Vicky laughed. “We’re trimming Twaz, but
you’re not allowed to put nail polish on his hooves.”

“And to think I have a bottle of pink rose in
my purse,” Dani teased. She wore blue jeans and a Shamrock Stable
sweatshirt, so she’d obviously come from the stable. “I think I
freaked out your mom last night, Vicky. She was stunned when she
met my
au pair
. Didn’t you tell her that we were coming to
take care of the kids and the house?”

“She doesn’t listen,” Vicky told us, keeping
the tension on the lead line so Twaziem held still for his haircut.
“I explained that I need to be with the squad at the games, or we’d
never get to the regional competitions, and all she talked about
was how much she needed me to babysit the brats.”

“They’re really not brats.” Dani joined us
and petted Twaziem before she gave him one of my carrots. “They
helped clean up their toys, dusted the house, put away laundry, and
tidied their rooms too.”

“Whoa. How did you manage that?” I asked.
“Trade them in for pod people?”

“I just threatened to call you.” Dani grinned
and poked me in the ribs. “The mean sitter who puts them to bed
right after supper. I told them if they didn’t want to go to bed
early like babies, they had to show me they were big kids and could
stay up till ten o’clock.”

“And that worked?” Vicky asked.

“Yes. When your mom got home from work, my
au pair
gave her a stack of resumes from her friends who
need positions. She could hire one of them to pick up the slack at
your house. The nanny would do household tasks around college
classes.”

“How would she pay one?” Vicky heaved a long
sigh. “She’s always griping that my dad barely pays the child
support and we’re hardly getting by. That’s why she pulls me out of
school to take care of the kids.”

“Most of the ones that my
au pair
knows are college students.” Dani picked up a brush and began to
groom Twaziem. “They would work to get a place to live like the
downstairs apartment and a flexible schedule so they could attend
their classes. It’s worth considering, and your mom didn’t reject
the idea. She asked me why we were rallying around to babysit for
free, and I told her that it was a school project. We want Lincoln
High represented at the regional cheerleading trials. Without you,
we don’t have a chance of winning.”

“That’s the same thing I told her.” I gave
Twaziem another carrot. “I swear it went in one ear, out the other
and didn’t even pause in the middle.”

“Yeah, but my mom says the brain learns
through repetition,” Sierra said. “If she hears the same thing from
enough different people, maybe Vicky’s mom will actually listen.”
She dropped to one knee and ran the clippers along Twaziem’s lower
right front leg. “So, do you need a sitter next week or do you have
it covered, Dani?”

“She would, but my mom does better when we
switch things up,” Vicky said. “You want to take it on Friday? My
dad’s supposed to take the kids on weekends, but he doesn’t always
show up, and I won’t know until five o’clock if he’s coming or
not.”

“Call me and I’ll be there by six.” Sierra
moved to the right rear leg. “I thought he was your stepdad,
Vick.”

“He is, but since I barely remember my
biological dad, I figure I’ll keep calling him my dad and maybe
he’ll figure out that I’m not a servant,” Vicky said, “or else
he’ll start paying me to take care of the kids.”

“Good thinking.” I broke up more carrots and
gave Twaziem another piece. So far he was amazing me. He didn’t try
to kick Sierra, and she was running the clippers down his cannon
bone, along the fetlock joint to his ankle and then around the
coronet band. “I swear he’s a rocket scientist.”

“No, he’s just like a lot of guys,” Dani
teased. “He loves having all this feminine attention.”

We all cracked up, and Twaziem flicked his
neatly trimmed ears. Then he nuzzled Vicky. She didn’t have any
treats, but I did, so he happily crunched more carrots. I glanced
at Dani who was brushing his right side now, carefully staying out
of Sierra’s way. “Are you coming to the football game next
week?”

She nodded. “Afraid so. Harry asked me to
come watch him play even after I told him that football wasn’t my
thing.”

“You can sit with me,” I said. “Vick will be
down in front cheering on the players.”

“And I’ll be using your technique on her
brothers and sisters,” Sierra said.

Dani glanced at me warily. “I didn’t know you
had a thing for Harry. Are you really okay with me dating him?”

I still felt a bit of a twinge when I thought
about Harry, but I wasn’t sharing that with any of my friends. I’d
been awfully shallow when I didn’t think of him as a human being,
and I didn’t want Vicky or Sierra knowing I could actually be a
stereotypical blonde.

I shrugged. “It was more my thing than his.
Go for it, Dani.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sunday, October 6
^th
, 5:15 p.m.

When I returned from my afternoon run, I
showered and changed to a T-shirt and jeans, then went down to the
barn to help with chores. Twaziem and Singer stood in the middle of
the paddock, grooming each other with their teeth. Like I hadn’t
thoroughly brushed Twaz before I turned him out, I thought.
Everybody’s a critic.

I walked into the barn and found Bill mucking
my horse’s stall. I lingered in the doorway. “Isn’t Jack among the
living yet? Or is he still having problems with his leg?”

“No. I just came to hang out, so I figured
I’d help.” Bill finished raking the bedding until the floor was
level. He leaned the plastic fork against the wall and came toward
me. He stopped in front of me. “You could move, so I can grab the
bale of shavings.”

“I could, but we don’t have an audience.”

A slow smile crept across his lips and landed
in his eyes. “You’re right.”

He bent his head and kissed me. Long, slow
and oh so sweet. My legs felt as if they’d barely hold me up, so I
hung onto his shoulders. My pulse thudded and I could have stayed
there in his arms forever. Dimly, I heard music.

Bill lifted his head and stepped back. “What
a time for Jack to show up.”

“You’re telling me.” I took a step sideways
so I could pretend I wanted to check out Twaziem’s water tub. The
song I heard came from my brother who whistled pretty much the
whole time he was in the barn. At least we had an early warning
system. I definitely didn’t want to be teased about the first guy I
dated.

Bill shook out half the shavings in the
plastic-wrapped bale. “Homecoming is in two weeks. Will you go with
me to the dance?”

“Yes.” I untied the baling twine that kept
the blue garbage can against the wall so Twaz couldn’t flood his
stall. “I’ll even come cheer you on at the game that Friday, but
you guys better kick Mount Pilchuck’s butt.”

He laughed. “Count on it. What about this
Friday, too? Will you be at the game?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

That earned me a steady look before he began
smoothing out the pine chips. Heat trickled into my face as I
remembered that Harry was on the football team too, and I’d pretty
well made a fool of myself chasing him since school started.

“I’m coming to see you play,” I said, “unless
you’ve changed your mind. In that case, I’ll come watch Jack and
boo every time you’re on the field.”

Bill laughed. “I almost forgot how honest you
are, Freckle-face.”

I shrugged. “My sister thinks you’re sweet,
but I told her that you’re not.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“And even if you don’t make fun of me when I
do stupid stuff, you’re still not sweet,” I said. “So, I’m not
perfect. I make mistakes. You should know that by now, but if you
don’t, get used to it.”

He raked out the last of the bedding. “If you
were perfect, I’d have to be too. I’m not either.”

“Well, I like you anyway,” I said. “And
perfection is hard to live up to, especially when we’re both human
beings.”

* * * *

Friday, October
18
^th
, 2:15 p.m.

The next two weeks flew. I was so busy with
cross-country practice, riding lessons, working with Dr. Larry,
spending time with Twaziem and going out with Bill twice that ‘I
didn’t know if I was coming or going,’ as Grandma said. We’d won
our next two cross-country meets. Lew even P.R.’d at the last one.
When I saw Phillip during one of our practices, he warned me that
the Bartlett cousins were seriously pissed. I’d told him that he
should suggest they turn their anger to running, and then their
school might beat us. He’d just laughed.

We were on assembly schedule this Friday. No
surprise there since this was the biggest game of the season with
our archrival, Mount Pilchuck High. Lots of yelling, clapping and
stomping later, the principal dismissed us to head for the buses. I
met Jack and Bill out front. Bill had his car, so he could drive me
home. We stalled around waiting for Vicky. She was coming to our
house, and then we’d all leave for the game from there.

She hurried out of the school, backpack on
her shoulder and school duffel in her hand. “Let’s get out of
here.”

“What’s going on?” Jack asked.

“My mom has to go to work, and my dad says he
doesn’t know when he can get the kids.”

“But it’s the Homecoming game,” I protested.
“They have to understand that.”

Tears rolled down Vicky’s cheeks. “They don’t
care. They want a sitter, and my mom sent a message to my last
class for me to take the bus home. I called her from the office and
reminded her about Homecoming. She said that my brothers and
sisters are more important than football.”

I pulled out my cell and called my mom to
bring her up to speed. Once I finished telling her about the
situation, she stepped up. She promised to babysit so Mrs. Miller
would be able to go to the casino and work. I spotted Jack on his
cell. His call ended about the same time mine did. “Did you catch
Dad?”

“Yes, and he’s contacting Vicky’s father. Dad
and Mom will meet us at the game. We need to do the chores because
they can’t pick up the slack at Vick’s house and ours too.”

“That makes sense. We’ll meet you guys there.
With all four of us working, we’ll be done in plenty of time.” Bill
took my hand. “Let’s move it.”

Vicky stared at me, wiping away her tears.
“Next time I’m a bitch, call me on it. You’ve been the best friend
ever, Robin. Nobody else would have helped me stay on the cheer
squad.”

“Hey, we all helped.” I squirmed inside.
“You’re making it sound like I’m nice, and I’m not. I was really
rude to your mom. And I only got Dani to babysit because she’s my
Mini-Me and can be as snarky as I am.”

“Life is good.” Jack hugged Vicky super
quick. “Let’s go. You’ll never get Robin to admit she can do the
right thing occasionally.”

“Most of the time.” Vicky walked away with
him, explaining why he should be kinder to me.

“Jack’s pretty decent as brothers go.” I
walked beside Bill to his car on the other side of the parking lot.
“I hope he doesn’t think I gripe about him.”

“No, he knows better than that,” Bill said.
“Vicky just needed to vent after you two helped her again. I really
hope her parents get their acts together.”

“Do you think that’s even possible? They dump
on her all the time.”

“That’s why I’m hoping,” Bill said. “Vicky’s
already talking about moving in with Rocky and Sierra on her
eighteenth birthday, but that’s not her only choice. Once she’s a
legal adult, Vicky can go where she wants. And don’t tell her that
she can opt for emancipation now that she’s sixteen. If she blows
off her family in the next couple of months, it could take years
for the breach to mend. I don’t think her folks really want to lose
her forever.”

I waited while he unlocked my door. “You
really believe her parents honestly love her?”

“Of course they do,” Bill said. “If they
didn’t, why would they pay for her tuition here? Why would her mom
have encouraged her to go out for cheer since middle school? If her
folks hadn’t bought her uniforms this year, how could she be on the
squad? Why would her dad paint all her campaign signs when she ran
for Sophomore Class President and come to all those assemblies last
spring to listen to her speeches?”

“Then, why are they being so mean now?” I
asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Because they’re hurting,” Bill said. “When
most people hurt, they do mean things.”

“Okay, time-out.” I made a T with my hands.
“If you tell me the Bartlett brats tortured Twaz because they’re in
pain, you’re walking to my house.”