CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
We’d galloped for a while when I felt Bluebird starting to tire. I slowed him to a walk. It wasn’t fair to push him and I was glad that Dad had gone to get the trailer. I didn’t think either of us had the energy to ride back to the barn through the brush.
I got off Bluebird and walked beside him, the waves lapping against my boots. I wanted to take them off and wiggle my toes in the wet sand. Let the water cool my feet. But I didn’t think my father would be too impressed if he showed up to find us playing in the surf instead of looking for Dakota.
“We’re never going to find her.” I sighed.
But suddenly Bluebird stopped, his head up and body rigid. He let out a piercing whinny through trumpeted nostrils and over the sound of the crashing waves, a horse replied. I jumped back into the saddle and followed the sound. Bluebird trotted eagerly now, keen to find his long lost friend and suddenly there the hoof prints were, veering away from the shoreline. They headed across the beach and over a sandy hollow and that was where we found Dakota, sitting on a sand dune with her head in her hands while Wizard was standing next to her like he was keeping guard. He let out the loudest whinny like he was so glad to see us, his face eager like we were rescuing him from some mad woman. Dakota looked up at me with bleary eyes. Black rivers of mascara ran down her cheeks and her face was all blotchy and red.
“I’m so sorry,” she gulped.
During the time it had taken to find her, I’d rehearsed this whole speech in my head. One about how she was irresponsible and ridiculous. How she could have been killed and Wizard could have been injured and who did she think she was taking someone else’s horse and just riding off with them?
But looking down at her now I wasn’t mad at all. I just felt sorry for her and I saw in her the part of me that couldn’t bear to be away from my horses. The part that felt like I would die if anything happened to Bluebird and how I couldn’t imagine that life would go on if he was ripped away from me and sold to someone else. The part that most people didn’t even understand, not even Mickey. But Dakota did.
“It’s okay,” I said, dismounting and pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. “Dad has gone to get the trailer. He’ll come and pick us up. Everything will be okay.”
“No it won’t,” she sobbed, bursting into tears again.
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
I sat next to Dakota, not knowing quite what to say. I’d checked Wizard over and he didn’t seem any worse for wear. If he wasn’t hurt then there wasn’t really much reason to be mad with Dakota. The only one she’d hurt was herself. I stared out to the ocean watching the storm clouds roll in. They were getting closer. Soon they’d be here but Dad was on his way. I’d heard the relief in his voice when I told him that I’d found them and since I vaguely knew where I was he said that there was a parking lot close by where he would park the trailer and then come and find us.
“You probably think I’m really stupid,” Dakota finally said when she stopped crying.
“Not really,” I replied. “Trust me, I’ve done a bunch of dumb stuff before.”
“I bet you haven’t.” She sighed. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I don’t say things to make people feel better,” I said. “I tell them the truth.”
“Mickey said you were honest,” she gulped.
“I just don’t think it’s fair to sugar coat things. I wouldn’t tell someone that everything was going to be okay when it wasn’t. I’d tell them that maybe everything would work out okay later but for right now things were going to suck.”
As I said the words I realized that it was exactly what Mickey had done when I’d tried to talk to her about Jordan. She told me the truth and I hadn’t liked it one bit. Maybe it would be easier just to tell Dakota that everything would be rainbows and unicorns after all.
“Well things do suck,” she said. “You have no idea.”
“Of course I do,” I said. “Mickey told me all about how you had to sell your horses because your parents lost their business. I think that is completely shitty and if I was you, I’d be losing it too.”
“But you don’t have any idea what it’s like,” she said, her voice small. “You live at a barn and your dad is a trainer. You have all these horses to ride. You’re so lucky.”
She poked at the sand with the toe of her boot and I thought how funny it was that what Dakota saw on the outside was not how my life had been at all. I thought about not telling her. I wasn’t the kind of person who went around blabbing their personal business to people they’d only just met but I had a feeling that Dakota needed to hear it. That maybe it would help her.
“My father hasn’t always been around,” I said. “He left when I was five after my sister died and I didn’t see him again until last year. My mother hated horses after what happened to my sister and she refused to let me ride or even mention horses at all. I got a job at a local stable behind her back and worked cleaning stalls in return for lessons.” I looked over at Bluebird, feeling my heart swell a little. “I bought my pony at an auction where the meat buyers were bidding on him and now my mother has pretty much given up on me and moved away with her new family because I’ve chosen to have horses and my father in my life instead of her.”
Dakota looked at me with wide eyes.
“Everyone’s life isn’t always what you see on the outside,” I said.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or for yourself. My father and Missy are good people. They’ll help you if you let them. Maybe we could even track down your horses and you could buy them back?”
“I don’t have any money and my grandparents don’t either. I’ll never see them again.” A tear rolled down her cheek but at least the flood had stopped.
“You don’t know that,” I said.
“Yes, I do.”
Lightening hit the water across from us, a blinding crack of white. Both horses spooked and snorted. I closed my fist around Bluebird’s reins. The last thing I needed was him galloping off across the beach never to be seen again.
“Come on,” I said, standing up and brushing the sand off my butt. “We should make our way over to the parking lot. The further we get away from the water, the better.”
“I knew the storms were bad here but I didn’t know they were this bad,” Dakota said as we started to walk.
“Florida is the lightening capital of the world,” I told her.
“No,” she said. “It’s the lightening capital of the United States. Africa is the lightening capital of the world.”
I just looked at her, wondering why the girl who I’d just spent hours tracking down was being so annoying.
“Sorry,” she said, even though I hadn’t said anything. “When I get nervous or upset I start spouting out all these random facts. I don’t mean to. It just happens. My grandma calls me a walking encyclopedia. I’ve told her that a walking google is more appropriate but she doesn’t know what that means.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, feeling pretty dumb.
I wondered how many people I’d told that Florida was the lightening capital of the world and how many of them had thought I was stupid because I was wrong but just hadn’t bothered to tell me. At least Dakota was honest and that was a trait in someone that I could get behind.
The lightening was flashing all around us by the time we got to the empty parking lot but the truck and trailer weren’t there.
“I hope he hurries up,” I said as a rumble of thunder shook the ground beneath our feet.
“What if the storm gets here before he does?” Dakota said.
Her face was pale. I think she was starting to realize how irresponsible she’d been and how her foolish actions had caused us to now be in harm’s way.
“He’ll be here,” I said.
I scanned the parking lot for shelter but there was nowhere to ride out the storm with two horses. Only a dump
ster with a broken surf board sticking out of it and an abandoned car sitting up on cinder blocks.
“We could stand under that tree,” Dakota said, pointing to the one sappy looking oak that had been planted in the middle of the concrete wasteland and failed to thrive. Its branches were spindly and awkward, reaching up to the dark sky with skeleton arms.
“Only if you want to increase your chance of being hit,” I said.
“No thanks,” she said. “This sucks.”
“Welcome to Florida,” I replied.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
The first fat drops of rain had started to fall when the truck and trailer pulled into the parking lot. I waved wildly to my father whose face I could just see behind the wheel, half hidden by his hat.
“Thank goodness,” Dakota said. “I was starting to think we’d be stuck out here forever.”
“You know whose fault that would be if we were,” I said as we walked the horses towards the trailer.
“I know,” she said. “I am really sorry.”
“I’m not the one you have to convince,” I said. “It’s my father. He’s going to be really mad at you.”
“I guess I’ll have to find another barn to ride at,” she said, looking at her feet.
“After he cools off I’ll talk to him,” I said.
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“Because I think everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“You’re hopeless.”
“I know.” She sighed.
Dad jumped out of the truck and let down the ramp. We pulled off saddles and bridles and slipped halters on our horses as the rain started to fall in sheets. Bluebird wasn’t fazed. He was used to being out in the rain but Wizard didn’t like it one bit. His steel shoes clattered on the tarmac as lightening hit just across from us, sending sparks into the air.
“You need to get them in the trailer now,” Dad shouted over the sound of the rain.
I hustled Bluebird up the ramp and patted his wet neck as I tied him up but Wizard decided that he didn’t want to go into the trailer, despite the fact that it was warm and dry inside. He balked at the edge of the ramp and then scuttled backwards with wide eyes.
“Give him to me,” Dad snapped at Dakota, snatching the lead rope away from her.
“It’s okay,” I told her as she looked like she was about to cry again.
But it wasn’t okay. Wizard refused to go in even with my father’s powers of persuasion. He balked and tried to rear, acting like the entrance to the trailer was the mouth of a horse eating monster. Bluebird was standing in there calmly eating hay from the net that my father had strung up but Wizard didn’t seem to care.
“This is all my fault,” Dakota cried. “What are we going to do?”
I looked at my father desperately. We were all drenched, our hair plastered to our faces. The storm was right over us. Lightning and thunder cracked and rumbled with no time in-between them, shaking the ground like an earthquake. It was literally the worst possible time for a horse to decide that he didn’t want to load and one that could have devastating consequences.
“What are we going to do?” I asked Dad.
“Get the lunge line,” he said.
CHAPTER FORTY
I wondered if we were going to make Wizard run alongside the truck the whole way home. I imagined my arm out of the window, holding onto the lunge line for dear life but of course that wasn’t the case.
“Attach that end to the trailer,” Dad said.
I did so and then he looped the lunge line around Wizards butt and then threaded it through a hook on the other side of the trailer. Wizard had wide eyes. He’d lost his brain and it wasn’t going to be easy to get him to come back to us but we had to get him into that trailer. We didn’t have a choice. Dad pulled on the line and it tightened around Wizard.
“Come on, good boy,” I encouraged, clucking loudly over the sound of the rain. “You can do this.”
Dad already had the lunge whip and he shook it, trying to get Wizard to go forward and each time he did, he tightened the rope and it was working. Inch by inch he got closer to the trailer until he finally had both front feet on the ramp.
“This is it,” Dad cried. “Get in there and get ready to tie him up.”
“Alright,” I shouted over a rumble of thunder.
I ducked in, taking the lead rope from Dad and trying to stay out of the way as best I could because I knew that when Wizard bolted up that ramp he wasn’t going to be thinking about not crushing people who were standing in his way. And with one final nudge the bay horse did just that and I tied him and we had the ramp up and closed before he even knew what was happening.
“Good job,” Dad said. “Now let’s go home.”
“Wait,” I said, looking around. “Where is Dakota?”
“I don’t know.” Dad shrugged. “In the truck?”
But Dakota wasn’t in the truck. I stared through the sheets of rain, blinking water out of my eyes. I’d taken all that time to find her and now she’d gone again? I told her that we’d give her a second chance but I only meant that if she didn’t do anything else stupid.
“Dakota,” I called out.
“That’s it,” Dad said. “I’m done with that girl. I’m calling the police when we get back. We’ve got our horse back. That’s all I care about. What happens to her is her grandparent’s responsibility now.”
“Dakota,” I called desperately.
I had so wanted her to have another chance. I didn’t want her to blow it.
“Come on,” Dad said. “Let’s get back before we all catch pneumonia.”
“Wait,” I said. “I think I see something over by the dumpster.”
I ran through the rain and there was Dakota, hunched over a pile of dried up seaweed, throwing up.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
She stood up, wiping her mouth and shook her head.
“We’re all going to die out here,” she said. “And it’s going to be my fault.”
“No it’s not.” I put my arm around her. “We got Wizard in the trailer. Now come on, let’s go home.”
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
By the time we got back to the barn, the storm had passed. Raindrops still fell from the trees and rivers of water ran down the drive but the worst was over. That was how it was. The storms raged through and then they were gone, leaving behind a wet world and whatever damage they had inflicted. Looking around there didn’t seem to be any, at least not this time anyway, just a few clumps of Spanish moss that had become water logged and fallen out of the trees. The world was soggy but it would dry and everything would go back to normal. I wasn’t so sure about things inside the truck.
Dad had been quiet, gripping the steering wheel and trying to navigate the wet roads and get us back to Fox Run in one piece. We sat in the back, wet and shivering. Every now and then Dakota let out a strangled sob. I wished she’d just stop. My father didn’t like people who cried all the time and really there was no reason for her to be bawling her eyes out. Everything had worked out okay, sort of. I was almost thinking that my father wasn’t even going to say anything or yell at Dakota. After all it wasn’t really his place, that was sort of her grandparents job, although that had never stopped Esther from yelling at us back at Sand Hill.
“What were you thinking?” he said after he’d parked the trailer. “How could you have done such a thing?”
“I wasn’t thinking,” Dakota said, her voice small.
“Of course you were,” Dad said, swiveling around in his seat to face the drenched teenager. “You had to be thinking something. Your mind wasn’t just blank, was it?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I was thinking about my horses and missing them so bad that it hurt to breathe.”
Dad’s face softened. I knew that he’d been a trainer long enough to know that some girls had a crazy bond with their horses and didn’t take it lightly wh
en their four legged companions were snatched away from them. It was like losing a part of you. A giant hole ripped in your heart. All Dad had to do was to look at me and know how true that was.
“Maybe we could just forget it?” I said hopefully.
Dad looked at me like I was now the crazy one. “She stole a horse that didn’t belong to her, rode off with it recklessly and could have got us all killed by being out in that storm and you want me to just forgive her?”
“It’s okay,” Dakota said with a strangled sob. “I won’t come back here again.”
She was out of the truck and running into the barn before I could say anything else.
“Dad,” I said, shaking my head.
“What?”
“You could have been a little nicer.”
“Nicer?” he said, choking on the words. “How nice do you want me to be to someone who could have seriously injured Jordan’s horse?”
At the mention of Jordan’s name, I felt a twist in my gut. He was still missing. What had happened to him? And Dad was right, if Wizard had been injured then I would have been furious too but as he wasn’t, part of me wanted to just forgive Dakota. To hope that in helping her then maybe someone out there was helping Jordan.
“Yes,” I said. “I do want you to be nice.”
We unloaded our wet horses and spent time toweling them off and checking that they didn’t have any injuries. Bluebird loved it when you pulled out a fluffy clean towel and started rubbing him down with it and he lapped up all the attention and the treats that I gave him.
“Thanks for being a good boy,” I whispered as I hugged his neck. “Thank you for not freaking out at the storm and going into the trailer. I knew I could count on you.”
He sighed and nudged me with his head. I left him and went to find Dad who was just finishing up with Wizard.
Beginner's Luck (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 18) Page 8
