No Horse Wanted (5 page)

We climbed in the pickup, and Mom started the
engine. “I think we found the perfect horse for you to ride,
Robin.”

“Not until he turns three,” Felicia said.
“That’s next April, a little more than seven months from now.”

“Works for me. He has to be old enough and
strong enough,” I told them. And a lot could happen in that amount
of time. By then, I’d convince my parents he was ready to move onto
a new home. I’d get him the best one I could find. Maybe Rocky
would help with that. She always had people looking for safe, sane
mounts for her beginning riders and Twaziem might turn out to be
perfect for them. All anyone had to do was feed him and he
obviously thought the person was a friend.

It took over an hour for us to get home
because of the traffic. Mom always drove carefully, and when she
hauled a horse, she took more precautions. She signaled for turns
early, slowed down before she braked, stayed five miles under the
limit and pretty much ticked off every speed demon in forty miles.
It didn’t bug me as much as usual, not with Twaziem on board.

We pulled into our drive, and she tapped the
horn. “Now your brother and dad will know we’re home.”

Suddenly, I was nervous. What if Jack made
fun of my horse? Twaziem looked awful. And Dad? Would he be
disappointed in me? He never complained when I brought home stray
cats or their kittens or dogs and puppies. A starving horse was
different. He was going to eat more than the other horses, and he’d
need a lot more care.

Mom gave me a quick sideways glance before
she focused on maneuvering up the driveway, past the house to the
barn. “It’ll be fine, honey. We know how you are when it comes to
animals.”

“You always pick the ones who need you most,”
Felicia said. “It’s heroic even if you are obnoxious about it.”

“So, sue me.” I tossed my head. “They pick me
too.”

Mom laughed. “Either way, the result is the
same. I always have a houseful of your critters. Bottom line, we’re
all human, Robin, and you could learn to be patient with the rest
of us when we don’t live up to your expectations.”

“What’s that mean?” I stared past Felicia at
my mother. “What are you getting at?”

“I’m proud of you.” Mom stopped in front of
the barn. “It took a great deal of courage for you to stand up to
your sister, me, and two other adults. You insisted we do what was
right, not what was easy. Good job.”

I felt warm all over. Mom rarely praised me,
or anything I did. As the baby of the family, I came in third-best
most of the time. No way I’d tell her that she’d made me feel good
for once. Instead, I pushed open my door and slid out of the truck.
I hurried around to the back of the trailer and opened the back
end. Twaziem cocked his head around and looked at me, but kept
eating. Despite the long driving time, he had plenty of hay
left.

“Are you getting him out?” Felicia asked.

“I think he wants to finish the hay first,” I
said.

“He can finish it in the stall. I’ll bring it
in for him,” Felicia told me. “Mom went to get Jack to put a bale
of grass hay in the manger.”

“You mean a couple of flakes, not a
bale.”

“No, she meant a bale, all right. She’s not
going to have him open it, but if Jack stands it on end, your horse
can pull it apart and eat twenty-four seven.”

“Where did she come up with that? It’s a
brilliant idea.”

“Rocky suggested it when I called her from
Mrs. Bartlett’s.”

“Why did you get to call her?” I glared at my
sister. “I wanted to tell her about Twaz.”

“You still can,” Felicia said. “I wanted to
settle Mrs. Bartlett’s concerns about the training. She needed to
be sure that Rocky understood Twaziem was a good horse so she
wouldn’t use whips or spurs on him.”

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked, referring
to Twaz’s previous owner, not the stable owner.

“Well, she’s in remission, but there aren’t
any guarantees. I got her email address so you can keep her posted
on how Twaziem does. I think she’ll do better now that she doesn’t
have to worry about him.”

I eyed my sister. In jeans, a WSU sweatshirt
and her never-removed Ropers, she didn’t look much like an angel,
but she was really kind to people, even the ones I thought were
totally stupid. “Thanks, Felicia. I’ll send her pictures every
week. I’m glad you’re on my side.”

“Hey, I’m your big sister.” She beamed a
sunshine grin. “That’s what I do.”

Chapter Six

Saturday, September 14
^th
, 6:45 p.m.

I eased my way into the trailer next to
Twaziem’s left side. There was a lot more room beside him than
there was by the other horses that belonged to my family. When I
reached the front, I untied the rope and tried to back Twaz out,
but he didn’t budge. He pinned his ears flat against his head and
stomped one foot, then kept eating, pulling hay from the manger. I
reached around and pushed on his chest. He ignored me.

“Come on, Twaziem. Mom promised a whole bale
of hay in your stall.”

He still wouldn’t move. I pulled on the rope,
but he pulled back, and he was a lot bigger than me. When I pushed
on his chest again, he simply leaned further toward the hay and
continued chewing.

Finally, I gave up. I petted him to show
there weren’t any hard feelings. If he didn’t want to leave the
food, it was okay. Sooner or later, he’d figure out that regular
meals were part of his life now and starvation was over. I put the
rope over his neck. Squishing past him, I went back out of the
trailer.

Jack and one of his good buddies, Bill, had
joined Mom and Felicia.

“So, where’s your new steed?” Bill demanded.
He was as tall as my brother, but he had auburn hair and eyes. “We
loaded up his stall for him.”

“He wants to finish the hay in the trailer,”
I said. “Then, he’ll come out.”

Jack laughed. “Robin, you’ve got to start out
the way you mean to go on. You can’t let your horse be the
boss.”

“Why not? Nitro is. You always say that he
does all the work when you win at a gaming event and it’s your
fault when you lose. Twaziem will come out when he’s ready.”

“Did he tell you that?” Bill asked.

Ever since I was little, Bill liked to pick
on me. I always wondered why he and Jack were friends when Bill was
such a jerk and my brother wasn’t.

“He didn’t have to tell me,” I said. “I could
see that he’s hungry. You’d need a big sign with pictures.”

Jack laughed even harder and punched Bill in
the arm. “She’s got your number.”

“Not yet.” Bill rubbed his arm. “Do you want
me to unload him for you?”

Mom and Felicia looked at each other. Then,
Mom said, “I will. I think you guys are too rowdy for him.” She
stepped into the trailer, talking in a low voice so the horse
wouldn’t be frightened.

“I don’t remember seeing a horse named
Twaziem,” Jack said. “What does he look like?”

“He’s a bay paint with a blaze and three
white ankle socks,” Felicia said. “I found an ad for him in the
paper since Robin didn’t care for any of the ones that you and Mom
selected.”

“What was wrong with the ones I liked?” Jack
asked me.

“They all went too fast,” I said, “and nobody
makes me ride a horse without brakes. Not anymore.” I saw my dad
and Vicky coming from the house and went to meet them. “I did get a
horse.”

Dad smiled at me. “Is it what you
wanted?”

“Is it better than the car?” Vicky asked.

I took the questions in order. “I didn’t
particularly want
him
, but he was being starved, and then a
guy showed up who planned to take him to slaughter so I had to
bring Twaziem home. A horse is alive. It has feelings, and Twaz
didn’t want to be dog food. To be honest, I’d still rather have my
car. It’d be a lot more fun.”

“I’m sure it would.” Dad put his arm around
my shoulders and gave me a quick hug. “Remember, it’s like what Sir
Winston Churchill said, ‘We make a living by what we get, but we
make a life by what we give.’ And I’m proud of you for giving this
horse a home. You don’t have to worry about a car being butchered.
Are you glad or sorry you saved him?”

“Glad, I guess. He needed me. I was the only
one who really cared about him.”

“You’re the one who cared enough to save
him,” Dad said, and hugged me again. “Let’s go see this wonder
horse.”

I nodded, grateful that he hadn’t said a word
about what it would cost to bring a horse back from the brink of
starvation. I smiled at Vicky. “Wait till you see him. I think he
has a lot of potential.”

Vicky pushed a strand of walnut-brown hair
from her face. “I can’t believe you actually went through with it
and got a horse after everything you said.”

I stopped to think. She was right. I’d
complained a lot about getting a horse instead of my beautiful car.
Things had looked different when I watched Twaziem eat grain and
dirt, then beg a guy who wanted to kill him for more food. “I did
gripe a lot, but I was really mad.”

“You sure were,” Vicky agreed.

I contemplated telling her to shut up, but it
wouldn’t do any good. Vicky would keep talking until she wore out
the topic. We arrived at the trailer, and she paused for breath. I
counted my blessings. Mom had obviously succeeded in taking Twaziem
away from the hay. He’d backed partway out of the trailer. His left
hind foot hit the ground, then the right. Another step and he was
half outside and half inside.

Jack stood rock still. Fury filled his face,
and I saw his jaw clench when he spotted Twaziem’s prominent
hipbones. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Who did this? Why?”

I walked up beside Twaziem, and Mom passed me
the rope from inside the trailer. I encouraged him to back a couple
more steps until he was totally out of the trailer. “It wasn’t his
owner’s fault. She was in the hospital for cancer treatments and
her grandkids stopped feeding him.”

“He’s a walking skeleton,” Bill said. “Didn’t
the cops do anything?”

“I did something.” I petted Twaziem’s neck,
calming him when he stamped a hoof. “I brought him home. Now, quit
acting macho. He doesn’t like it.”

“I know you said you were getting the worst
horse you could find, Robin, but this one is beyond it,” Vicky told
me. “He’s awful.”

A dreadful silence descended on everyone
after Vicky’s comment, and I wished the ground would open up and
swallow me, and Twaz. Of course, it didn’t. I’d have to save both
of us. Why, oh, why, did Vicky choose now to repeat my childish
promise? I glanced at Felicia. If she’d ratted me out, I’d have
expected it. We’d sniped at each other a lot over the years, but we
were sisters and we fought. Vicky was my best friend. She was
supposed to stick up for me.

For once, my parents had been proud of me.
For once, I hadn’t been a washed out copy of Felicia or less than
perfect Jack. For once, I’d been part of the family, not an
outsider! I knew it wouldn’t last. It never did, but I could hope,
couldn’t I?

“I said it,” I admitted, “but I was really
ticked off when I didn’t get my car and...”

Support came from a surprising corner. Mom
sighed as she stepped out of the trailer, shaking her head. “And
here I figured Felicia and I were the only ones who vented first
and thought later. We’ll have to be a lot more careful, Robin. It’s
amazing how ‘boot in mouth’ comes back to haunt a person.”

“And Grandma always says to keep ‘your words
short and sweet, since you never know which ones you have to eat.’
Smart advice, huh?” Jack was next to Vicky, holding her hand, like
she needed his support too.

I forced myself to look past them to Felicia
and my dad. She winked at me and he grinned. Tears stung my eyes.
The last thing I’d expected was for them to understand why I’d been
so mean about my birthday and the present they wanted to give me,
the traditional present that Felicia and Jack got when they turned
sixteen.

Slowly, I realized the truth. My family was
sticking up for me because Vicky and Bill were here. Nobody
mentioned Jack’s art or poetry when the football guys were around.
We didn’t talk about Felicia’s love for classical music when her
rock band wanted to practice in the garage. Of course, they all
were mad at me. They just wouldn’t tell me how disappointed and
angry they were when we had an audience.

I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat,
unable to speak.

Jack let go of Vicky and came up close to my
horse, shaking his head. “A lousy bay and he’s not setting one hoof
in my barn.”

“Don’t be mean about Twaz,” I said. “And if I
can put up with Nitro, you can deal with me having a horse.”

“I said ‘lousy’ and I meant it.” Jack pointed
to Twaziem’s right side. “Watch that patch. It’s moving. I wouldn’t
be surprised if he’s not a paint. It’s not a usual coloration for
Morabs. Breeders try real hard for it.”

I stepped around to the other side and looked
at the spot, a huge yellow stain on Twaziem’s barrel. It moved. The
whole thing crawled toward his neck and face. And I’d been petting
him. My stomach lurched. “Oh, my Gawd!”

“Gross,” Bill said, but he sounded awestruck
and horrified at the same time. “I so have to video this and put it
online. Let me get my phone.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Mom told him.
“I’m not having Animal Control out here beating on the door when
your video goes viral.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see that,” Felicia
said, moving closer to inspect Twaz. “I assumed he was a paint and
needed a good grooming or a bath for his patches to be white and
the proper color.”

“Maybe you should send him to be dog food,”
Vicky said. “It’s not that far to Stanwood, only twenty some
miles.”

“We’re not going there and neither is he,”
Jack said. “The cows, pigs, and chickens get lice, and we treat for
them twice a year. It’s a normal part of farm life. We’ll just dust
him before he goes into the barn.”