Another Kind of Cowboy

by Susan Juby

  Two cops drove me to the station after the paramedics checked me out and realized that my only injuries were a bloody nose and what would soon be two very black eyes. When I was being pulled out of the ruined Passat my first thought was that I’d never had so many good-looking men paying attention to me all at once. The fire department was there, and between them, the cops, and the paramedics I had what amounted to a trifecta of uniformed hotness around me. I was feeling pretty special, at least until I got a look in the interview room mirror at the police station and realized they were just doing their jobs and weren’t necessarily overwhelmed by my beauty.

  Officers Ray and Gonzales left me alone in the room for quite a while. They were probably letting me cool my heels. I’ve watched enough cop shows to know that’s a very popular interrogation technique. Still, it only took about three seconds before I started to panic. I considered throwing myself on the ground and just lying there but realized that would probably get me a visit to the psych ward. Equestrienne, Interrupted.

  I attempted to wipe the blood off my upper lip and chin but it was caked on. I used the wall-to-wall mirror to practice my impassive drinking-driver-being-interviewed-by-the-cops face. I tried a tough-unbreakable-repeat-felon face and a cooperative-and-concerned-citizen face before I realized that the mirror was probably two-way glass and officers Ray and Gonzales were probably sitting on the other side watching me audition faces. Not cool.

  When they finally came back into the room, I’d decided to act like a preteen Drew Barrymore at her lowest point. The idea was to be as cute and vulnerable as possible. I tried to arrange my face to suggest that I had a great future ahead of me if I could just get through this rough patch.

  “Miss O’Shea. Are you still with us?” asked Officer Gonzales.

  A trick question? I’d heard about those!

  “Well, I haven’t gone for coffee,” I said, trying to bring some much-needed levity to the situation.

  “We need you to focus here. Do you take drugs?”

  I tried to look offended. “No!” I said. “I don’t even smoke cigarettes.” Although I’d been meaning to take up smoking to help pass the time while I waited for my druggie friends.

  Officer Ray, a big guy with iron-gray hair and a large chin with a deep cleft in it, settled back in his chair, which groaned under his weight.

  “You know that you blew just at the limit, right?”

  I said a silent prayer of thanks that I’d thrown up right before I got in the car. Who knows what I’d have blown if all the beers had stayed in my system? The four of them probably added up to a third of my body weight.

  “As a minor, you aren’t allowed to have any alcohol in your system when you drive. We’ve taken a blood sample and if we find anything else in there we can charge you with driving under the influence. As it is, you’re definitely looking at a suspension.”

  I smiled at him as winningly as I could. Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. With blood all down the front of my coat and blouse and breeches and my two black eyes, I looked like a zombie that wanted to eat him. I stopped smiling and stared back down at the table.

  “Where were you going in such a hurry?” asked handsome officer Gonzales.

  I looked at him out of one eye. It would have been nice if we’d met under different circumstances. I considered mentioning that, then thought better of it.

  I also considered telling them about the house and what was going on in the basement. I considered telling them about Jenny and Frieda. And about Cameron.

  “Nothing. I wasn’t going anywhere. I was just driving around. I go to Stoneleigh, the riding academy. I was on my way back to school.”

  “The school doesn’t mind you driving around drunk in your parents’ car?”

  “It’s my car.”

  The cops exchanged looks.

  Clearly the wrong thing to say.

  “Can I make a phone call?”

  They exchanged another look. Officer Gonzales got up and headed for the door. Officer Ray sat solidly, staring at me.

  “We’re going to call your school. Get someone down here to pick you up.”

  “But don’t I get a phone call?” I really didn’t want them calling the headmistress.

  “Officer Gonzales has gone to get you a phone.”

  We sat in silence for a long minute. I tried to casually rub some of the crusties off my nose. My lip was tender and I realized it was probably fat. At least I wasn’t hungry anymore.

  Officer Gonzales came back and put a portable phone on the table in front of me. The two of them watched as I dialed the number.

  An hour and a half later Fergus and Ivan and I sat in Ms. Green’s office. Ms. Green looked the same as she always does, even though it was almost ten o’clock at night. I’m starting to wonder about her relationship with that tweed suit.

  “Thank you, Mr. O’Riley and Mr. Peev, for bringing Cleo back after this…unfortunate incident.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Fergus.

  Ivan didn’t speak, but every so often he reached out and patted the arm of my chair. Surprisingly something about his furniture patting was more comforting than most people’s hugs.

  “I’m terribly sorry that you and Mr. Peev were roused from your bed—” Ms. Green stopped talking and her cheeks colored.

  “We run a barn, Ms. Green. We’re always on duty,” said Fergus.

  “Well, thank you again for picking her up and bringing her back to school.”

  She obviously thought the meeting was over, but Fergus and Ivan didn’t move. Ivan glanced quickly at Fergus, who spoke up.

  “Ms. Green. We were just wondering, what happens now?”

  “That’s something I will be discussing with Cleo’s parents. I really can’t say, Mr. O’Riley.”

  “If there’s anything we can do,” said Ivan.

  “Anything,” echoed Fergus.

  “This is a matter for the school and Cleo’s parents.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you both very much,” said Ms. Green, getting up from behind her desk to indicate that the meeting was over.

  Fergus and Ivan rose at the same time. I just sat there. Fergus put a hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be all right. We’ll take care of your mare. You just get things straightened out with your parents. We’ll see you soon.”

  Ivan air-patted me about a foot above my shoulder.

  “For the time being Cleo will be confined to school property,” said Ms. Green.

  I got up out of my chair and watched Fergus and Ivan turn to leave the room. Then I remembered the monogrammed handkerchief Ivan had handed me as we left the police station to clean off my face.

  “I’ve still got your kerchief,” I said, holding up the formerly lovely square of fabric.

  “You bring to the barn later,” said Ivan.

  In that moment, there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to go more.

  MARCH 11

  26

  Alex

  AS ALEX RODE along the driveway to Limestone Farm on Sunday morning, he reflected that only a few hours had passed since the show and in that time his life had imploded. Or exploded. He wasn’t sure which. Yesterday he was a serious dressage student and now he was faced with having no horse to ride. Yesterday he was his father’s straight son. Today he was his father’s shame.

  Alex stopped Turnip for a moment so he could look out over the fields and the lake. The sky was clear and it was warm for early March. The air thrummed with life. Birds flitted from tree to tree and the sight of horses in pastures filled him with calm. He could sit and stare forever. Turnip and Detroit seemed to feel the same way. They stood as still as statues on the hill.

  Alex noticed some movement down at the barn. Someone walked quickly into the stable. It was unlike Fergus or Ivan to move so fast. They had the slow, deliberate movement of people who spend a lot of time around horses.

  His curiosity aroused, Alex urged Turnip on. When he reached the barn, he dismoun
ted and led both horses into an empty field. He removed Detroit’s halter and quickly stripped Turnip of his saddle and bridle and turned him loose, too.

  Both horses stood at the fence watching him, instead of going off to graze like they usually did.

  In the barn Alex found Fergus standing outside Tandava’s stall.

  “It’s about time,” said Fergus. “Oh, I’m sorry, lad. I thought you were the bloody vet.”

  Worry was etched deep into Fergus’s face. Alex walked a few steps closer.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Fergus shook his head.

  Alex peered into the stall. Tandava lay on her side. Every so often her legs jerked, as though she were pawing at something no one could see. When she threw her head back Alex could see that the whites of her eyes had turned red.

  Ivan crouched near the mare, staying well clear of her thrashing legs. He held the rope attached to her halter and whispered softly to her.

  “What happened?” Alex asked.

  “She’s got a stomachache. She’s colicking.”

  “Shouldn’t we get her up? Walk her around?”

  “Not when she’s like this. When the vet comes he’ll give her a shot. Something to help with the pain. Then we’ll try again to get her on her feet.”

  Another spasm wracked the mare and her legs kicked. Alex could see her muscles straining.

  “Jesus lord,” said Fergus. “Where is that vet?”

  Alex wanted to help but he didn’t know how. He ran to the doorway of the barn and saw the vet’s red truck coming down the hill.

  “He’s here,” he called.

  “Thank God,” said Fergus. “Alex, you better take the truck and go get Miss Cleo.”

  Fergus handed Alex a set of keys and Alex nodded and ran toward the house, where the truck was parked.

  He could hear Cleo’s voice down the hallway.

  “But Moooooom, I’m fine. It was just a misunderstanding. You don’t need to tell Daddy.”

  Alex averted his eyes from all the girls in various stages of dress who stood in their doorways staring at him as he passed. He hadn’t checked in with the office because he didn’t want to waste any time.

  He was glad to have Phillipa to lead him. He’d seen her on his way in and she offered to take him to Cleo’s room.

  When Phillipa knocked on Cleo’s door there was no answer, just another cry of “Moooooommmm, Gooooooddddd.”

  Phillipa turned the knob, pushed the door open an inch, and spoke into the crack. “Cleo, you’ve got a visitor.”

  “I’m on the phone,” came the irritable reply. “I’m in trouble for something that is barely even my fault.” Then she switched her attention back to the call. “I’m fine here. I don’t need to go to school in Switzerland. And you don’t need to tell Daddy.”

  Phillipa glanced apologetically at Alex and tried again.

  “Cleo. I think it’s an emergency.”

  “Look, I’ve got to go. Okay. Yeah, sure you will. No, I’m not trying to give you attitude. Never mind. Good-bye!”

  A moment later Cleo appeared in the doorway and Alex took an involuntary step back. She looked like she’d gone the distance with Oscar De La Hoya. Her eyes were ringed with purple circles and her nose was swollen.

  “What happened? Are you okay?” asked Alex and Phillipa in the same breath.

  “I would be much better if everyone would stop asking that,” said Cleo.

  “Cleo, you need to come down to the barn.”

  “I’m on restrictions. I can’t leave.” She looked more closely at Alex. “Why? What’s going on? Are Fergus and Ivan okay? Tell me I didn’t give one of them a heart attack or something.”

  Alex shook his head. “It’s Tandava.”

  Cleo narrowed her puffy, discolored eyes. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “You should come now. Get dressed and I’ll drive you.”

  They stepped back and Cleo closed the door. Alex and Phillipa stood quietly for a long moment. Finally Phillipa spoke. “Is she bad? Tandava, I mean,” she clarified, in case he thought she was asking about Cleo.

  Alex nodded.

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  He shrugged. “They don’t know. They can’t get her up.”

  “That’s awful,” Phillipa said, her big eyes filling with tears.

  When Cleo emerged from her room a few seconds later her face was pale with anxiety.

  “I’ll wait around here and cover for you if Ms. Green or anyone comes looking,” said Phil.

  “We should go,” said Alex, and then he had to run to catch up with Cleo as she rushed down the hall.

  MARCH 11

  27

  Cleo

  IF I WERE to be completely honest, I’d have to say that I never really thought about what horses and riding meant to me. Lessons used to mean I got to stare at the back of Chad’s perfect head during long private car rides. In addition, I have always liked riding clothes, especially the tall black boots. I enjoy telling people that I ride. I guess the riding itself was okay, too, especially when I rode Dawn’s very well-trained horses. Thanks to them, when I competed, I won, even though I wasn’t all that great.

  After I got Tandava and was sent to Stoneleigh, the thing I liked best about dressage was Alex and his family and Fergus and Ivan. I enjoyed watching Alex work hard. I got a kick out of how much he loved the horses, how much he loved riding, and how hard he tried. I loved watching him fuss around the barn. His enthusiasm was almost contagious, except for the working hard part.

  I guess somewhere along the line I started to care about my horse. When I got to the barn this morning and saw how sick she was, how much pain she was in, it finally occurred to me that what I was supposed to love most about riding was her. The realization came as a sick shock, like now you tell me. How was I supposed to know? Plastic horses don’t get stomachaches.

  When Alex and I pulled up to the barn, Tandava was standing in the middle of the yard, her back legs stuck out stiffly behind her. Fergus held the lead rope and Ivan kept a steadying hand on her shoulder as the vet pulled a long tube out of her nose. Blood dripped steadily from her nose and splashed to the ground.

  “She’s had a shot to help with the pain and he’s just given her a stomach tube to check for gasses and what’s in her stomach,” said Fergus as we walked up. “It must have started in the night. She was down when I came out to feed at six-thirty.”

  Ivan moved to let me stand beside her. I put my hand on her damp neck. Her sides heaved rapidly, in and out.

  “Don’t get too close,” said the vet, a tall, thin man in denim overalls. “She could go down like a ton of bricks. You don’t want to get in the way.”

  Tandava’s nostrils flared and then tightened. Every so often she swung her head around to look at her sides.

  “Can you give her more pain medicine?” I asked. “Or something to calm her down?”

  The vet shook his head.

  “We don’t want to give her a narcotic or a tranquilizer. She’s in shock and her electrolytes are completely out of whack.”

  “Why is her nose bleeding?” I tried to control my shaky voice.

  “The tube was a bit too big. I’ve made a note on her chart.”

  “Does she need surgery? Is she going to be okay?”

  The vet stared at me. His eyes were serious.

  “I don’t know. She seems a little better now. You’re going to need to walk her. Not so much that you tire her out. Keep listening for rumbling sounds in her belly. We want her to pass some stool so we know she doesn’t have an impaction.”

  I nodded, glad to have Alex and Fergus and Ivan with me. “Okay. I can do that.”

  “Good,” said the vet. “I’ve got an emergency about fifteen minutes away. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check on her. Call immediately if she gets any worse.”

  He spoke to me like I was in charge. Like Tandy was my responsibility. Which, it finally occurred to me, she was.

  Then
he put his instruments back in his box and his box in the back of his truck and drove off.

  Tandava’s pain seemed to come in waves. She would stand completely still, unwilling to move, like she was listening for some faraway signal. At other times she’d kick at her belly and bite her sides. I fell into a pattern of walking her once or twice around the indoor area and then standing with her in the middle of the ring. Every so often I put my ear to her side to listen for noises in her stomach.

  “When it goes quiet you have to worry,” Fergus said.

  “You needing a break?” asked Ivan, after I’d been walking and resting her for a couple of hours.

  “No, I’m fine,” I said, but I was glad that he and Fergus and Alex took turns keeping me company.

  Partway through the afternoon, Tandy passed a bit of manure and we all celebrated like she’d just graduated from college.

  “Now you want to take a rest? Go back to school? We can take care of her tonight,” said Fergus.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t leaving the barn until I was sure Tandy was better. I was probably in deep trouble already for leaving school when I was on restrictions.

  “Don’t you have to ride Detroit?” I asked Alex as the afternoon wore on. He was religious about keeping up with his training schedule.

  “No,” he said.

  “But you never miss Sundays. I’m sure Tandy’s going to be fine. You can go ride.”

  “Detroit doesn’t…he’s not in training anymore.”

  “What?”

  Alex cleared his throat. “Ms. Reed’s taking him back next week. She and my dad broke up.”

  I felt my mouth fall open. All this time I’d spent with him today and he hadn’t told me!

  “Alex, I’m so sorry. About Detroit, I mean. Not your dad and Ms. Reed.”

  He shrugged.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  He shook his head.