No Horse Wanted (26 page)

Read No Horse Wanted Online

Authors: LLC Melange Books

Tags: #horses, #investment, #eventing, #car, #young girl, #16, #birthday present, #pet, #animal rescue, #unwanted, #sixteen, #book series, #animal abuse, #calf roping, #teen girl, #reluctant, #buy car, #16th birthday, #1968 mustang, #no horse wanted, #nurse back to health, #rehabilitating, #sell horse, #shamrock stable, #shannon kennedy, #sixteenth birthday, #win her heart

BOOK: No Horse Wanted
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Carrots first and I’d go to the barn, hoping
that Jack was done being angry at me. I knew he loved me, and if
Bill had done anything that really hurt me, my brother would
totally be on my side. Right now, Jack felt I was unfair to his
friend, and he didn’t hesitate to tell me so. As soon as I opened
the front door, I heard my dad yelling for help.

I raced down the hall to the kitchen. “What
is it? What’s wrong?”

Dad propped up Jack, guiding him into the
room from the back porch. A torn shirt flapped from his shoulders.
Bloody U-shaped prints on his side, his chest. One arm hung limp.
More blood and manure splattered his jeans.

“What happened?” I barely managed a
whisper.

Jack managed to wink at me, a bruise around
his left eye. He wiped at the blood on his lip. “Don’t worry. I’m
fine.”

Dad glared at me. “Get my coat and keys. I’m
taking Jack to the hospital. Tomorrow, that killer goes to the
slaughter house.”

“What killer?” Dread filled me. “What
happened?”

“Twaziem cornered Jack and almost killed him.
I’m done with that horse.” Rage filled Dad’s face, tightening his
jaw. “He’s out of here first thing in the morning. I’m not giving
that monster another chance at your brother.”

“It’s not his fault.” More blood ran down
Jack’s chin.

I remembered what I’d heard about internal
injuries in health class and ran for the phone to call 9-1-1. Jack
needed an ambulance. When I glanced at him again, he drooped in
Dad’s arms.

I gave our address to the operator and told
her that my brother had lost consciousness. Why did I even try to
save Twaz? I should have let Mr. Johnson take him to the slaughter
house in the first place. It would have saved us from all this
grief. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Not as sorry as that crazy horse is going to
be.”

After they left for the hospital, I wandered
from room to room. I saw the kittens playing in the living room
drapes, but I couldn’t pick them up for a quick cuddle. Mom was off
at one of her craft fairs and wouldn’t be back for ages. I knew if
both my parents agreed that Twaziem was a threat, the guy was a
goner. It wasn’t fair. I’d spent so much time on him. And maybe I
didn’t gush over the horse, but it didn’t mean I didn’t care about
him.

I grabbed my coat and a handful of carrots,
and stopped in the back porch for my boots. I would go visit him
and see if I could discover why he went berserk. There had to be a
reason. Nobody freaked without one. In the barn, I flipped the
light switch. I walked down the aisle, checking the horses. All of
them munched hay.

What was that about? Normally, Twaziem would
be in a paddock while his stall was cleaned and return in time for
supper. The wheelbarrow stood in front of his door. I eyed it
suspiciously. Why was my horse inside if Jack was mucking? Or had
my perfect brother made a mistake?

I slid open the stall door to look inside. A
bale of shavings sat in the opposite corner from the water tub.
Twaziem turned his head when he heard me and nickered. “Good boy,”
I managed to say around the lump in my throat. “You’re a good boy,
Twaz.”

What had Jack been thinking? The rake and
flat shovel leaned against the wall, but the pitchfork lay on the
floor. It was pure luck that Twaziem hadn’t stepped on the plastic
tines and broken them or stabbed himself with the fork. Okay, so it
couldn’t kill him the way an old-fashioned metal one could, but it
was still dangerous.

I walked over to it, bent, and snaked the
fork over to me. Then, I walked around Twaz and collected the other
tools. Last of all, I brought the bale of shavings up to the front
of the stall. “Okay, booger-butt, I’ll clean the horsy rooms before
I do the rest of the chores, but you have got to get over yourself.
Stop picking on Jack. It’s not his fault he looks like Caine, and
my brother would never hurt you.”

Twaziem snorted at the sound of my voice. He
didn’t budge from where he stood in front of the manger. Nothing
ever seemed to distract him from a meal, but my brother had.

“Robin, what are you doing?” Mom stood at the
stall door. “Your dad called from the hospital and said that he
left you at home. He’s totally lost it.”

“Well, his perfect Jack screwed up,” I said,
scooping poop, “and my stupid horse hurt him.”

Twaziem stomped his front feet, and I paused
to pet him. “Of course, that didn’t give you the right to kick
him.”

“Nobody except you says your brother is
perfect.” Mom sighed and walked in to check the water tub. “And
your dad always freaks when one of you kids gets hurt. He wanted to
shoot Vinnie the last time Felicia fell during a jumping
lesson.”

“I don’t want Twaziem to go to slaughter,” I
said, beginning to feel a bit better. It sounded like she was on my
side. “Maybe I don’t get mushy all the time, but it doesn’t mean I
want him dead.”

“Honey, I’d never send a horse there. I’d
just have Dr. Larry put Twaziem down at home, and we’d bury him
here like we did Cobbie.” Mom left the stall to go after the hose.
“I don’t think your horse needs to worry about a long trip to
Canada from Stanwood. Did your brother try to clean around
him?”

“Yes. At least I think so. I found the tools
in the stall along with Twaz. He must have been frightened and
attacked Jack before—”

“Your brother got him.” Mom sighed and shook
her head as she filled the water tub. “Sweetie, I don’t think we
can wait to train him. We’re going to have to arrange for Rocky to
start working with him now before this bad behavior escalates
anymore.”

I cleaned up the last of the wet spot, then
took the tools to the hallway so I could put down fresh shavings.
“Will you talk to Dad?”

“Yes. He’s already calming down and starting
to think. At the hospital, Jack kept telling your father that the
accident was his entire fault.” Mom finished watering. “Come on,
Robin. We have a lot of chores to do. And since your horse made the
problem, you’ll have to do the barns full-time until Jack
recovers.”

“I’m going to be totally overloaded until
Christmas.” I moaned. “Cross-country practice, two more meets, my
first job, my internship, and I’ll bet you still expect me to do
homework for all my classes.”

Mom laughed and patted my back. “Let’s go,
drama diva. I’ll help you.”

 

* * * *

 

Monday, October
28
th
, 7:20 a.m.

 

This time I was the one who was almost late
for school. Morning chores took forever even when Mom milked the
cow. Vicky flagged me down in the Commons, holding out a huge
mocha. “My turn to buy. Your turn to chug it.”

I managed to smile at her. “I’m amazed you’re
speaking to me after what Twaz did to Jack.”

“Oh, I’m talking to you,” Vicky said. “I’m
just not speaking to him. He got all pissy with me when I told him
that he got what he deserved for being so stupid.”

I finished gulping my coffee on our way to
English class. I’d barely sat down when Dani plopped into the chair
beside me. “Is this afternoon still a good time for Harry and me to
come shoot some video of your horse?”

“Yes,” I said, “but Harry needs to be
careful. Jack went in to clean Twaz’s stall last night. He was
kicked, struck, and bitten before he managed to get away. Coach
will probably be looking for me since there’s no way that Jack will
be able to play this week. He has cracked ribs, a wrenched shoulder
and a twisted ankle, plus a ton of bruises.”

“And he’s really whiny.” Vicky leaned around
me. “Jake should never have trusted a horse that Caine abused, but
my silly boyfriend said he was in a hurry to get chores done. Now,
he’s out of the barn until he’s back to a hundred-percent.”

“And I’m in it,” I said. “It takes forever
for me to do chores by myself. The only comfort is that Mom says
Jack’s on housework for the duration of his injuries. You should
have heard him snivel when she said it only took one hand to run
the vacuum cleaner.”

“I’ll bet he loves that,” Dani teased.

“Hardly.” Vicky began to giggle. “I’ll have
to call and sympathize with him. Now, he’ll know what my nights are
like.”

“Barely,” I said, starting to smile. “We
don’t have any little kids.”

The last bell rang and the three of us dove
for comp books. Mondays always meant an extra-long write, and Mrs.
Weaver had been on an anti-bullying kick for the past week. Gawd
knew how awful the prompt would be!

* * * *

 

Monday, October
28
th
, 2:20 p.m.

 

Gwen led the stretching exercises for the
team today, and then we took off for our run through Marysville.
The pressure was on, so nobody complained when she headed for Golf
Course Hill. If we won the next two meets, we’d be the undefeated
champions in our division. I was really looking forward to rubbing
our victories in the faces of the Mount Pilchuck team. We knew we
had to be going to the state competitions. None of the other
schools came close to what we’d done this year. And Olivia was
already talking about kicking butt next spring in track.

When practice ended, it was time to go to the
Mustang Corral. I’d be washing cars for the next hour and a half.
Then, Dad would pick me up, and we’d go home so I could do the
chores. Jack had skipped school today, but he’d be back tomorrow. I
figured it was up to my folks to keep him out of the barn and away
from the critters. Mom had already started making a list of
housework. Jack complained, but I knew he’d turn out to be as good
at house cleaning as he was at stall mucking.

I’d just soaked the candy-apple red Mustang
when I saw a guy in a fancy blue uniform walking toward me. As he
came closer, I realized he was a soldier. The combat boots and tan
beret were a definite giveaway. He had a ton of medals on his
jacket. I turned the nozzle on the end of my hose to cut off the
spray. “Can I help you? Are you thinking about buying a car?”

“Actually, I’m looking for someone.” He
smiled at me. “Is this Brenna Thornton’s place?”

“Yes, it is.” I didn’t smile back. “Are you
the guy who broke her heart for a joke in Afghanistan?”

He eyed me and the hose. “That’s not the way
I’d phrase it.”

“But, you’re not me,” I said, “and a player
doesn’t deserve any respect from me.”

I lifted my hose, cranked the end, and
watched him run for the office trailer. He didn’t know the
cross-country creed of, “When you go after one of us, all of us get
you.” It was only fair to give him a couple steps so he’d think
he’d make it. And then I cut loose with the spray.

 

Chapter Thirty-Two

 

Monday, October 28
th
, 5:05 p.m.

 

I’d finished the last of the red Mustangs and
moved onto the black one when Brenna came out of the office
trailer. I flicked a quick glance at her and kept soaping the hood.
“So do I still have a job? Or are you firing my butt for watering
down the jerk?”

A smile trickled across her lips, up to her
eyes and then she burst out laughing. “Honey, you have a job for
life if you want it.” She grabbed me in a hug. “Nobody has ever
stood up for me the way you did. I admire your guts.”

“Hey, I admire yours. I couldn’t go to
war.”

“Sweetheart, I think you just did.” Brenna
stepped back and grinned at me. “You deserve to know that he came
to see me because he broke things off with the fiancée as soon as
he got home. He just wouldn’t do it from a war zone when she was
waiting for him. I don’t know what comes next—”

“What took him so long to get here?” I asked.
“Haven’t you been home for months?”

“He’s a career soldier, and it took a while
for him to get leave.” She shrugged. “So, we wait and see. He has a
lot to do to convince me he can be trusted.”

At least she was thinking. She wasn’t just
falling at his feet. I glanced at my watch. “Okay if I finish this
car and head out today? I have to do chores. My horse attacked Jack
over the weekend, and he can’t do barns for a while.”

“That’s fine. When is your next meet?”

“Oh, I forgot,” I said. “It’s been moved to
Wednesday because everybody complains so much when we have one on
Halloween. I don’t mind washing cars on Thursday if that’s all
right.”

“It’s fine. I’ll see you then.” With a wave,
she headed back to the office.

When Dad and I arrived home, Rocky’s pickup
was in the drive. I changed and headed to the barn. Rocky was
feeding carrots to Twaziem when I arrived. She’d already groomed
him and had started teaching him to work on a longe line. She waved
to me, and I walked over to her to stand in the middle of her
circle.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Some things you need to know about him.” She
flipped the end of the rope at him and Twaz eyed her warily before
he took a step. “Never use a whip on him, not even a long one to
get him going. He sees it as a threat and wants to attack.”

I nodded, turning with her. “Okay, I hadn’t
thought about it, but I won’t take chances with a whip. How do I
deal with his gender bias?”

“Start by teaching him that all guys aren’t
the same,” Rocky said. “Dani and I did a little bit earlier this
afternoon. She and her boyfriend groomed Twaziem while I held him.
He’s coming back tomorrow. Are there any other guys this horse
likes?”

“Bill, but I haven’t seen him since I got
angry at him last week.”

“You may want to consider apologizing to him
if he can help with training.”

“He totally pissed me off when he let a guy
steal a video off his phone.”

Rocky just gave me her ‘drop dead’ stare
before she said, “With a crappy attitude like that, Robin, it’s a
good thing you don’t work in law enforcement. Why aren’t you
blaming your horse for almost dying of starvation?”

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