North Oak 2- Yearling

by Ann Hunter

  Contents

  The Price of Love

  UNGRATEFUL

  THE MARSHMALLOW

  CAMELOT

  BLOOD AND GUTS

  SPRING FEVER

  UNRULY

  SOME PEOPLE

  WHISKEY WISDOM

  THE TUTOR

  BONFIRE HEART

  INDIAN SUMMER

  TRIANGLES

  STRONG ENOUGH

  BROKEN PIECES

  SUSPENDED

  MAGNIFICENT

  SCHOOLED

  BUSINESS BETWEEN US

  FASIG-TIPTON

  SOMETHING PERFECT

  Fan Ann

  About the Author

  Grief never ends… but it changes.

  It’s a passage, not a place to stay.

  Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith…

  It is the price of love.

  — Author unknown

  UNGRATEFUL

  The sweet smell of tender spring grass, freshly mowed before the dew dried that morning, hung on the afternoon air. Thirteen-year-old Alexandra Anderson sat atop one of North Oak’s yearling paddock fences and watched a chocolate colored colt dash around.

  Promenade easily outran his stablemates, and then seemed to wonder why they wouldn’t play with him anymore. He tried to instigate more mock races, but the other yearlings either collapsed for a sunlit nap or ambled off in their own little cliques.

  The dark colt stood there, looking around, until his eyes settled on Alex.

  She stretched out her hand to him, hoping he'd come check her out, but he simply snorted like he didn't need anybody. Promenade was a punk, and she loved him for it.

  If he wouldn't come to her, she would go to him. She climbed into the paddock and walked toward him.

  He pawed the ground and shook his mane, all fire and indignation. Alex called his bluff and went right up to him. He sniffed her pockets as she tugged on one of his ears.

  "What makes you think I brought a treat?"

  Promenade lipped her pocket, and Alex grinned. "Brooke says you're not supposed to do that."

  He gave her a look so pathetic and almost human that Alex rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay."

  She dug out a few baby carrots, which Promenade inhaled, chomping loudly and getting her hand all sticky. He tossed his head in approval.

  "You think you're so big and bad, don't you," Alex said, tousling his mane.

  Promenade turned his rump to her and ambled off, obviously having gotten the only thing he cared about. Alex's hands went to her hips. "Hey!"

  The colt ignored her, continuing down the paddock. Alex jogged after him, determined to win his affection, only to have him turn away. She darted the other way round, to get in front of him. Promenade paused, peering at her from the edge of those crazy eye whites she loved.

  Alex darted back and forth quickly, and gave him a playful push. "Come on, dumb horse."

  He shook his mane and pawed the earth again, then charged at her. Alex jumped out of the way in time. He rounded and ran at her again, throwing a powerful buck. Alex grinned and moved away again, her hands brushing his shoulder as he passed.

  When he stood at the end of the paddock, she rushed at him. Promenade dove away.

  "Chicken," Alex called.

  They continued on a few minutes. Scampering around one another, bounding away at the last second. Promenade abruptly grew bored and ambled over to sniff her pockets one last time.

  She slid her hand beneath his milky mane and smiled, but it was bittersweet. "I remember when Ashley and I would play like this." Alex's brow furrowed. "You're all I've got now. All that I…" she paused. "Well I love you, Dumb Horse."

  Promenade head butted her. She brushed his forelock and scratched his wide, handsome blaze.

  "I should be happy," she sighed. "The folks here, they're real nice. For the first time in my life, I'm wanted.”

  Alex searched the colt’s eyes. “Well, they say that they want me. I almost feel needed sometimes. I don't have to steal food anymore, or run away from what I've done, I've even got a warm bed. But the fact is…” She leaned her forehead against his warm face, listening to his deep, steady breathing. “When I think of Ashley, I just want her back and nothing else. I want a life she exists in. And wanting that… it spoils what I have.”

  Promenade nickered, raising his head to scan the paddock.

  Alex rested a hand on the slope of his shoulder. “I feel so ungrateful when I think of the life we could have made if we’d run away from Haven together like we planned. I would rather have a life on the streets with Ashley than a warm bed and you.” She lifted her head to look at him. Promenade blew softly into her hands. “I mean who in their right mind wants something like that? There's something wrong with me."

  Living with the Showmans in an old farmhouse at the front of North Oak, not far from the main gate, was okay with Alex - she guessed. It was better than the streets, or even Haven. And Laura, Cade and Hillary had done everything they could to help Alex feel at home since she was released from prison a month ago after being found innocent of the death of her former foster parent, Vanessa DeGelder.

  Alex even had her own room, but as she lay on her back in the dark, it still didn’t feel like hers. The few clothes the Showmans had been able to buy for her felt more like gifts from generous people rather than anything Alex owned. Emotionally, it all remained a little uncomfortable.

  When the alarm clock by her bed went off, she clumsily slapped the button to silence it. The house was otherwise silent and still. She found it hard to believe she was the first one up for once.

  Even though it was dark outside, Hillary Showman - North Oak’s head veterinarian - was usually making her rounds already. But Alex had been awake long enough to know she hadn’t left yet.

  Alex kicked back the covers and got herself dressed in a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie, then crept down the stairs to pull on a pair of red chuck taylors she’d been given, before heading into the chilly April morning. She didn’t mind the bite in the air so much, because she knew she’d be warm soon enough with a job to do.

  The gravel path from the Showmans’ front stoop to the training barn crunched and scratched beneath Alex as she passed the yearling paddock. The big pasture lay barren of its occupants until after breakfast.

  This time of morning, when the stars still hung in the sky, and the first streak of purple and pink pushed back the night, had to be one of the most peaceful times of day, and Alex liked the quiet. But it was an entirely different story when she got to the training barn.

  The golden light spilling through stall windows in the distance stood as a stark contrast to the controlled chaos inside. Big, strapping racehorses lined the aisle in crossties, getting groomed and saddled for their morning workout on North Oak’s mile track. It was a whirlwind of whinnies, musky leather, and anticipation all balled into one sweet song.

  A tall, lean girl with brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail beneath her black helmet, called orders to the grooms. “Lucky needs wraps today. Jose, make sure you put a heavier saddle on Mikey. He’s got a handicap race coming up. Oh, and Benny, please use a softer bit on Valerio, he’s been fighting me lately.”

  Alex leaned in the doorway of the barn, admiring her friend take command, thinking it must be nice to have people respect you like that, to really listen. She felt like she was watching a pit crew team together, like she sometimes did with Cade and the T.V. in the den, to get race cars out as fast as possible. Only these racers had legs, and minds of their own, and were way cooler than cars.

  The tall girl brushed past her, practically dancing to the side of the Thoroughbred at the head of the line. “Morning, Al.”

  Alex waved back
at her. “Hey Brooke. Got anybody for me to cool out yet?”

  Brooke offered her leg to a groom to get a boost into the saddle. “Pop’s got his first workers out there already. Check with him.”

  Alex straightened as Brooke guided the horse past her into the early morning dusk. She turned in the saddle slightly. “I’ll see you on the track.”

  She followed Brooke and her mount outside and stayed at the rail when they passed onto the harrowed dirt. The rich, earthy scent of it went right to Alex’s core, smelling of dreams and promises. A nagging desire to sit in Brooke’s place welled within her.

  Alex watched Brooke dip her head to an old man clutching a stopwatch. He growled some instructions and Brooke sent her steed off and away.

  Pop. Alex grimaced.

  She generally tried to stay out of the man’s way, but this morning she couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting toward him. Hand gripping the rail, she scooted closer step by step. His white whiskers scratched the high collar of his jacket, and patches of ivory hair jutted from beneath his derby cap.

  Joe Hendricks, or Pop as Brooke called her grandfather, locked his steely gaze on his charges galloping around the track. Alex sidled up to him and peeked over his arm at the stopwatch. He slowly turned his head.

  “Can I help you?” he asked with a stiff grate to his voice.

  Alex looked back at him blankly, suddenly forgetting what she wanted. Joe’s brow creased.

  “Are ya gonna make yourself useful or are ya gonna stand there?”

  “Y’got any horses for me to walk?” she blurted.

  Joe grunted and turned back to the rail. A leggy gray jogged down the center of the track. The old man nodded toward them.

  Alex moved to the gap in the rail and took the reins of the horse who bumped into her excitedly. The rider hopped down and took his tack, buckles and stirrups clinking against one another, then turned to Joe to discuss the ride. Alex led the gray off and started walking him.

  Steam waltzed from the horse’s silver hide. He snorted and rubbed his muzzle on Alex’s elbow. She pushed back into him to get him off her, but he remained worked up and playful. He chomped at the bit in his mouth, dripping froth on to Alex.

  “Gee, thanks,” Alex grumbled. She led him around the yard near the track until his body cooled down, and she passed him off to a groom to take him inside the barn.

  Alex went back to the track and was just in time to take Brooke’s horse. Brooke slid from his back and took her tack the same way the other rider did, metal parts jingling like music.

  “I still have a bunch of other horses to get on this morning, but I’ve been thinking.”

  Alex took the reins of the horse who seemed much calmer than the gray. “What?”

  “Spring break is coming up, and if you’re gonna be sticking around for a while.” Brooke patted her mount. “Y’wanna learn to ride?”

  Alex rubbed the horse’s neck. The question made her oblivious to the sweat forming around her fingers. Since the day she saw her first racehorse cutting through the mist of dawn, she’d wanted to be on the back of it, running away from all her problems. She even tried to steal one of the horses before she went to prison. “You mean like you?”

  Brooke wobbled her head. “Mmm, kind of. Basics first.”

  Alex frowned, coming back down to earth. She shook the horse’s neck lather from her hand.

  Brooke smoothed the horse’s mane. “What do you think? Wanna give it a try?”

  It probably wasn’t riding racehorses, but it still was getting to ride. “Yeah, sure,” Alex said.

  Brooke grinned. “Sweet. Take this girl and I’ll see you around in a while.”

  Alex kept taking horses and walking them until the heat of their workout faded away. The last horse she took was another Brooke had ridden and the girls headed into the barn together.

  She chucked Brooke’s helmet into the tack room for her, and helped prepare mash for some of the horses who hadn’t been fed yet. The barn was still busy and alive with activity; grooms bathing horses, mucking stalls, and getting the horses ready for the rest of the day. They always appreciated extra help.

  When Joe marched in, everyone straightened, like the army general had arrived. Alex ducked into a stall, trying to avoid him, and listened to the old man rattle off instructions to the grooms and check on his steeds.

  Alex filled the bucket in the stall with mash and almost forgot Joe was still there when it got really quiet. She snuck several peppermints to the horse beside her and was caught red handed.

  “What are you doing?” Joe barked.

  Alex jumped, causing the horse to skate across the stall and bump into the wall. “Nothing.”

  “That’s the third time I’ve caught you giving junk to my horse.”

  Alex hunkered like a dog with its tail between its legs. Joe’s angry vibe was an elephant to her field mouse. “I didn’t know they were your horses.”

  Joe grasped both sides of the open stall door and leaned forward. Though he was a small man, he instantly grew ten times his size to Alex. “Til the day I die, they are all my horses. You’re gonna make ‘em fat!”

  Alex let loose a relieved breath when Brooke nudged him aside. “She didn’t mean anything by it, Pop.”

  He looked at her with a square jaw so sharp and set Alex thought she could cut cheese on it. He snorted and barreled his gaze into Alex, jabbing a finger in her direction. “If I catch you again…”

  Brooke folded her arms. “Pop.”

  He glared at his granddaughter with an ugly scowl. “You’re too soft on her.”

  They had a momentary stare down before Joe swung his hands with a low “Pah” and sidled off.

  Brooke kept her eyes on him until he was a good distance away and turned to Alex. “Don’t pay any attention to that crotchety old bag. Walt Disney probably based Grumpy off of him.”

  Brooke’s words seemed muffled to Alex as she cowered in her past; sneaking food to her room at Haven to save for later, in case DeGelder decided she wasn’t worthy of her next meal. Alex had gotten caught. And even though she had tried to fight back, she had been beaten down, broken and bruised.

  Alex focused on breathing again, pushing the nerves from her. She hoped Brooke couldn’t see her shaking in the shadows of the stall. She wanted to run, but there was something about the soft, warm scent of horse and sweet mash that rooted her.

  “We done?” she asked.

  Brooke nodded. “For now.”

  Alex headed back to the Showmans’ house and opened the door to see Hillary flitting around the kitchen. Alex took off her shoes at the bottom of the stairs, and placed them near Hillary’s satchel of veterinary supplies.

  “Have a good morning?” Hillary smiled, peeping over her shoulder.

  Alex shrugged. It wasn’t like Hillary could do much about old Joe, other than sorta chew him out like Brooke did. He’d probably say the Showmans were too soft on her too.

  Alex felt like Hillary did what she had to. She was nice to Alex, but Alex still thought she was on the woman’s good graces. She sensed part of Hillary wanted her, but another still wasn’t so sure. But maybe Alex was imagining it, a touch of paranoid.

  "Laura's got her driving test today, and I want to make her a special breakfast." Hillary was elbow deep whisking a big bowl of scrambled egg mix. "Think you could help me?"

  "Whaddya need?" Alex asked as she edged around the dining table to the kitchen.

  "I printed off a recipe for Dutch Babies. Can you read it to me?"

  Alex froze. A recipe. With words. She suddenly felt like Joe was towering over her again. "Why are we cooking Dutch Babies? What did they ever do to us?"

  "They're like pancakes, goofy."

  Alex swallowed and picked up the paper. A jumble of black markings tumbled before her. Some of them made sense. "Um… flour." That was a thing, right?

  Hillary set the bowl of eggs down and moved to the cupboard. "How much?"

  Alex's heart ran a little faste
r. "How can you tell?"

  "There should be a number to the left of the ingredient."

  Right. Okay. Alex took a deep breath. Did ingredient mean the thing? "One slash two."

  Hillary paused with her hand in mid-air, awkwardly holding a bag of flour. She turned with a look on her face that made Alex wince.

  "Okay. And what temperature does it say to cook it at?"

  Alex lifted the paper to her face and leaned her forehead against it.

  "Alex?"

  "Where do I find that?"

  "Hey."

  Alex peeked over the edge of the paper. Hillary set the flour down and drummed her fingers on the counter.

  "Spell sugar."

  "What?"

  "It's an easy word. Spell it."

  Alex's fingers tightened around the paper so hard, it crumpled in her fist.

  Hillary leaned against the counter. "You can't read, can you?"

  "I can read,” Alex answered defensively.

  "Then spell sugar."

  Alex's nose wrinkled over a sneer.

  "You went to school, right? Back when you lived at Haven."

  "Sugar. Shhh… ooh…."

  Hillary bowed her head, raising her hand. "I'm going to stop you there."

  Alex gulped. Even though she hadn’t moved, she swore she was backing into a corner.

  Hillary lifted her eyes to Alex. "Why can't you read?"

  "I was a little distracted, okay?"

  "Maybe if you stayed in one place long enough, you wouldn't have been so distracted."

  Alex gritted her teeth. Why did Hillary care? It shouldn’t matter. She scanned the room for a way to duck out.

  "What had you distracted? Why did you keep running away from foster homes?"

  Alex thought of Ashley. Not running from. To. Back to Ash. She wished she could do it now.

  With no way out, she stared Hillary down. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand it before lashing out. Laura bounded down the stairs and Hillary turned away, taking the paper from Alex with a look that said they'd talk about this more, later.

  Alex sank into a seat at the dining table and Laura took one beside her, scratching at a speck on the tabletop. "You need help, Mom?"