Learning to Fly

by Suzanne Weyn

  Mandy whinnied anxiously and shifted from side to side. “Rain,” Daphne explained. “Mandy can sense a storm hours before it arrives.”

  “That’s what Claire said, too,” Taylor reported.

  “Let’s get out of here, then,” Travis said. “Are you going to ride Prince Albert out, Taylor?”

  Taylor shook her head. “I rode him bareback once in Claire’s yard, but just at a walk. I wouldn’t feel confident enough to do it on this uneven ground.”

  “I agree. It’s too dangerous,” Daphne said. “Do you mind if I ride ahead on Mandy? I want to bring Cody in from the pasture if it’s going to rain and make sure Plum brings Shafir in and grooms her properly.” She looked to Eric. “No offense, but your cousin loses interest once she’s finished riding, and it’s not good for the horse. I hope you don’t mind me saying it, Eric.”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me how Plum is,” he said. “I grew up around her.”

  Poor you, Taylor wanted to comment but held back. Eric and Plum were cousins, after all, even though they were in no way alike. He could say things about his cousin that maybe he wouldn’t want to hear anyone else say.

  “I know what a pain she can be,” Eric added, “but, you know, she has her moments.”

  “What kind of moments?” Daphne asked as she remounted Mandy.

  “You mean moments when she’s not howling at the full moon?” Travis suggested snidely.

  “No,” Eric insisted in an annoyed voice that made Taylor happy she’d kept her mouth shut. “Moments when she’s almost kind of human. Not often, but every once in a while.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure even The Joker has his good days,” Travis remarked. His reference to the archvillain in Batman made Taylor smile softly. Travis loved his superhero comics and graphic novels almost as much as she loved horses and ponies.

  “Plum’s all right,” Eric muttered, to which Travis snorted disdainfully. Taylor knew now she’d been right. There was family loyalty there between Eric and Plum, despite the fact that Eric saw Plum clearly.

  Once they had gone up the embankment, Taylor leading Prince Albert with Pixie close behind, they were back on the leaf-covered forest trail. “See you,” Daphne said, clicking softly to Mandy and, leaning slightly forward in the saddle, cantering away.

  Taylor became aware of rain tapping on the leaves around and above. “We’d better hurry,” she said.

  As she began leading Prince Albert and Pixie down the trail, Travis came alongside her on the right. “Do you think Mercedes’ mom will really stop her from coming to Wildwood?” he wondered.

  “I sure hope not,” Taylor replied. “Mercedes loves it here.”

  “Would you miss her?” Travis asked.

  “You know, it’s weird, but I would,” Taylor said. Mercedes and she hadn’t gotten off to the best start when they’d first met two months earlier. Taylor found Mercedes almost unbearably bossy, and Mercedes had jumped to the conclusion that Taylor was responsible for the terrible condition of Prince Albert and Pixie. “Sometimes it still makes me mad when she tries to tell me what to do, but she does know a whole lot about horses, much more than I do. I’ve sort of gotten used to her, and I even like her, I guess. I would miss her.”

  “Mrs. LeFleur would have to find a new barn manager, too,” Travis added.

  “I could do it,” said Eric, standing to the left of Prince Albert.

  “What do you mean?” Taylor asked.

  “You work at Westheimer’s barn,” Travis said, speaking at the same time as Taylor. “You can’t work here, too.”

  “I got laid off. Ralph is having money troubles, and he had to let me go.”

  “Mrs. LeFleur doesn’t pay us, at least not in money,” Taylor told him. “I volunteer because she boards Prince Albert and Pixie in exchange for my work, and for using them for lessons and trail rides. Daphne gets paid by her lessons customers, and Mercedes does it because she used to have horses when she lived in Connecticut, and I think she just misses being around them.”

  “Why doesn’t she get a horse here?” Eric asked.

  “I don’t know,” Taylor admitted. “She’s kind of secretive about her life, but I have the feeling her family used to be rich and then something bad happened. It’s as though living here in Pheasant Valley is some big step down from the way things used to be for her.”

  “Have you ever been to her house?” Travis asked. “That would tell you if she’s still rich.”

  Taylor shook her head. “Her mother drives a fancy car, though.”

  “Used to,” Travis corrected.

  Taylor cringed, hunching her shoulders. “You should have seen how crunched up that nice car was.”

  From somewhere in the distance a rifle shot rang out. Then another one blasted, sounding a bit closer.

  Neighing anxiously, Prince Albert widened his eyes, flattened his ears, and flung his head back, startled by the sudden sound. “Settle down, boy,” Taylor commanded with firm gentleness. “You’ll scare Pixie.”

  Taylor, Eric, and Travis looked at one another. “We’re idiots,” Travis said suddenly. “Do you know what that was?”

  Before Taylor could answer, her cell phone sounded, alerting her to a text message. It was from Claire.

  GET OUT OF THE FOREST. HUNTING SEASON.

  Taylor set Prince Albert’s foot down and wiped the hoof pick she’d used to clean out his four hooves. Normally, she liked to groom him outside, but the rain had been pounding down so relentlessly that she’d been forced to bring Pixie and Prince Albert inside the enclosed stable.

  Wildwood had six indoor box stalls, three on one side and three on the other. All six faced either side of a wide center aisle. Behind the ones on the right, there were three more. Their doors were not enclosed but looked out onto one of the ranch’s three paddocks. Prince Albert was in the last stall on the right, and Pixie was next to him. Shafir, the chestnut Arabian mare that Plum leased, was across from Prince Albert, and Mandy faced Pixie. Cody, the black-spotted, white Colorado Ranger gelding with the black-and-white mane and tail, was being boarded there and faced an empty stall.

  At the end of these stalls was the main office on one side, across from the tack room. Outside the office hung a large bulletin board that listed everything happening at Wildwood Stables. It reported when everyone was scheduled to work, all the lessons and therapeutic riding sessions, and times when horses could be taken out on trail rides.

  Mrs. LeFleur organized everything with amazing efficiency, which wasn’t really that surprising considering that she had grown up at Wildwood before moving away for many years. She had returned only recently after inheriting the ranch several months earlier.

  She wouldn’t ride — Taylor wondered if that was because her son had been thrown and badly hurt, at least so she’d heard — but Mrs. LeFleur certainly knew how to run a horse ranch.

  Daphne had groomed and fed Mandy and Cody before leaving for the day. Travis and Eric had helped Taylor clean up, but then they had also left.

  After grooming Pixie and settling her into her stall, Taylor was now working on Prince Albert in the center aisle. She took the large curry comb from the red metal grooming kit that belonged to Wildwood for all to use.

  “You sure got dirty out there in the woods,” Taylor remarked as she ran the brush down Prince Albert’s flank, releasing a cloud of grime. “What were you doing? Why did you stay with that little fawn?”

  Prince Albert sputtered, as if in reply. Taylor often felt that he was communicating with her either through the sounds he made or his expressive dark eyes. Sometimes she was even sure she knew what he was saying, but at other moments she wished they could talk more directly. Right then was one of those times.

  Taylor wished Prince Albert could explain exactly why he’d stopped near the fawn and stayed there. Was he simply curious? Did he think he was protecting it? From what she’d seen, a horse would generally take off if it came upon a deer. Maybe the little fawn was so small an
d still that Prince Albert didn’t understand what he was seeing. Was it possible he hadn’t even noticed it there and had simply stopped by the creek to take a drink?

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Mrs. LeFleur in the office sitting behind her big, worn-looking desk and talking to someone on the phone and writing as she spoke. Her expression was especially serious and it worried Taylor. Mrs. LeFleur sensed Taylor’s eyes on her and looked up. She waved, but her warm smile still hadn’t returned. Taylor waved back nervously and then returned to brushing down Prince Albert.

  After another five minutes or so, while Taylor was brushing bits of twigs and leaves from Prince Albert’s mane, Mrs. LeFleur emerged from the office. “Almost done?” she asked as she tacked a notice onto the board.

  “Almost,” Taylor confirmed. “Mrs. LeFleur, I just want to say again how sor —”

  “Please don’t, Taylor. You’ve apologized more than enough. We all make mistakes. Heaven knows I’ve made my share of them. Forget about it now.”

  “I can’t, but thank you,” Taylor replied. “How is Mrs. Gonzalez? Have you heard?”

  “Her leg is broken and she’s extremely mad,” Mrs. LeFleur replied. “I’m hoping my insurance will cover the cost of her car and any medical expenses. If it does, maybe she won’t sue the ranch. Right now, that’s what she’s threatening to do.”

  “What would happen if she did that?” Taylor asked, pausing in the middle of a brushstroke.

  Mrs. LeFleur sighed deeply. “It would be the end of the ranch. I’d have to close down. My insurance payments are going to triple even if she doesn’t sue.”

  A knot formed in the pit of Taylor’s stomach. Close the ranch? It couldn’t happen. It just couldn’t. “I’m really sor —”

  Mrs. LeFleur held up her hand. “Don’t! It’s been a long day, and I need a break from the topic. It will all work out.”

  “But you can’t close Wildwood,” Taylor insisted urgently.

  “We’ll have to hope for the best,” Mrs. LeFleur said wearily.

  Taylor wanted to ask if Mrs. Gonzalez had said anything about Mercedes not being allowed back at the ranch, but she decided against it. Maybe Mercedes had talked her mother out of it by now, and there was no point in worrying Mrs. LeFleur any further.

  Taylor walked Prince Albert back to his stall and maneuvered him inside with gentle guidance. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said, laying her cheek on Prince Albert’s sturdy neck. “I couldn’t have stood it if anything had happened to you.” Coming in front of him, she rubbed her forehead on his muzzle. “You’re such a good boy, and I love you so much.”

  In the stall next door, Pixie neighed as if to ask, What about me? Looking at her, Taylor smiled. “And you’re a good girl, too. You found Prince Albert today. Nice job.”

  Stroking Prince Albert’s forelock, she remembered the sharp blast of gunfire ringing through the woods, and it made her shudder. What if Prince Albert had been hit as he ran freely among the trees? It was too awful to even think about.

  A noise made Taylor turn to the back door nearest Prince Albert’s stall. Someone was standing out in the rain. In the near darkness, Taylor couldn’t make out who it was, but then Mercedes stepped inside, water dripping from her abundant, thick, dark curls.

  “You’re soaked!” Taylor said, locking Prince Albert into his stall and hurrying to her side. “Are you okay? How’s your mother? How did you get here?”

  Mercedes shivered as she folded her arms together for warmth. Her teeth were chattering so hard that Taylor could hear them clacking together. “We took a car service from the hospital, and Mom went right to bed. Once she was sleeping, I walked here.”

  Taylor pulled off her zipper-front sweatshirt and handed it to Mercedes. “Put this on.”

  Waving it away, Mercedes shook her head. “Then you’ll be cold.”

  “I’m not dripping wet like you are,” Taylor insisted, pressing the sweatshirt into Mercedes’ arms.

  Again Mercedes declined, handing the sweatshirt back to Taylor. “There’s the horse sheet in the tack room. I’ll wrap myself in that.”

  Taylor followed Mercedes up the center aisle to the tack room. Pulling the blue plaid sheet from a shelf, Mercedes shook it out, wrapping it around her shoulders. “That’s better.”

  “How’s your mother?” Taylor asked again.

  “Terrible. Her leg hurts a lot, and she’s taking it out on me, making my life terrible, too,” Mercedes answered angrily. “I feel sorry for her, but she’s being so awful that it isn’t easy. She keeps shouting about the ranch and how it’s all Wildwood’s fault. Can you believe she doesn’t want me coming back here? It’s so stupid! It’s not like Mrs. LeFleur lets the horses wander around on the road. It was an accident!”

  “It was my fault. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault. Stupid Plum Mason’s idiot mother made Prince Albert bolt. Daphne called to see how I was, and she told me the whole story.”

  They came out into the center aisle and stood in front of the bulletin board. Taylor noticed the flyer Mrs. LeFleur had put up and began to read it.

  SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 5

  HORSE EVENT

  SPONSORED BY

  ROSS RIVER RANCH

  There was a list of events from advanced hunter–jumper competitions to endurance raising and dressage events. But the one that interested Taylor read:

  SPECIAL EVENT FOR BEGINNER JUMPERS

  FIRST PRIZE:

  FIVE FREE LESSONS AT ROSS RIVER RANCH

  Taylor turned to Mercedes. “Imagine getting lessons at Ross River,” she said. Riding lessons at the fanciest, most expensive ranch in the whole area would be too awesome.

  “Enter the contest,” Mercedes suggested.

  “I never learned how to jump, or even how to ride English style. There’s no jumping in Western riding, which is all I know. Daphne offered to teach me, but she keeps booking more and more lessons, which is great, but it means she has less and less time.”

  “I’ll teach you,” Mercedes offered.

  “You will?” Taylor asked, surprised.

  Mercedes nodded. “I want to get over to Ross River. You’d have to take me with you to the show, okay? That’s my price for lessons.”

  “Sure. Why do you want to go? Are you going to enter?”

  “I don’t want to compete right now. I used to compete a lot when we lived in Connecticut, but I’m not that into it anymore. I’d just rather ride and jump on my own. It’s not why I want to go to Ross River Ranch.”

  “What’s the reason, then?” Taylor asked.

  “There’s a white horse there I want to see.”

  Taylor’s eyes lit excitedly. “Are you going to buy it?”

  Mercedes looked away uncomfortably. “No.”

  “Then why do you want to see it?”

  “Because I just do,” Mercedes insisted, still not looking directly at Taylor. “Don’t ask so many questions.”

  “Okay, sorry,” Taylor said. This was so odd. Why wouldn’t she tell Taylor anything? “Come on, tell me what’s so special about this white horse,” she pressed.

  “Why are you so nosy?” Mercedes snapped.

  “Why are you so secretive?” Taylor shot back. “I was just interested to know.”

  “It’s my business, okay?” Mercedes came back at her, clearly agitated.

  Taylor didn’t want to upset one more person, so she let it drop. “Do you really think I could I learn to jump in time?” she asked.

  “Sure you could,” Mercedes said, seeming relieved that the subject had been changed. “It’s not like you’re a total beginner at riding.”

  A smile slowly formed on Taylor’s face. Learning to ride English style and to jump had long been one of her goals. She loved to pore through catalogs of English riding gear and to admire the gorgeous outfits with their gleaming boots, crisp blazers, velvet helmets, and slim breeches.

  “But wait!” Taylor said, her smile fading fast. “Y
ou’re not allowed to come to the ranch anymore, are you?”

  An expression of hard determination came to Mercedes’ face. “She can’t stop me.”

  “Ummm.” Taylor hesitated. “I hate to say this but … she sort of can.”

  “How?” Mercedes demanded.

  “She’s your mother.”

  Mercedes shrugged. “So? She works in the city and isn’t home till seven every night. How will she know?”

  “Someone might tell her,” Taylor suggested.

  “Like who?”

  “I don’t know,” Taylor admitted. “Anyone. You never know.”

  “She started this job in the city the first week we moved. She doesn’t have a single friend here.”

  “But won’t she be home now that her leg is broken?” Taylor questioned.

  Mercedes considered this a moment before answering. “Maybe. For a few days. But she’ll go back. She’s pretty devoted to her job now that she’s the only one …”

  Taylor waited for her to finish the sentence. “The only one what?” she pressed gently after several more minutes.

  “Nothing!” Mercedes said crisply. “Do you want me to teach you to jump or not?”

  “Definitely! But I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “I won’t get into trouble,” Mercedes insisted. “And besides, I don’t care. When the thing happened with our horses, I lost them all. And then we had to move. Now I’ve found a way to have horses again, and she’s not taking it away from me.”

  Taylor studied Mercedes a moment, deciding what to say to her. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing and upset her even more. Something had happened to Mercedes’ family that she never wanted to talk about. But maybe this was the time to get an answer since Mercedes had brought it up. “What happened?” Taylor asked cautiously.

  Mercedes looked like she was about to reply but then turned away. “Nothing! Just tell me — yes or no — do you want me to teach you to ride English?”

  “Yes,” Taylor agreed. “Yes.”