No Horse Wanted

by Melange Books, LLC

  I raced down the hall to the kitchen. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Dad propped up Jack, guiding him into the room from the back porch. A torn shirt flapped from his shoulders. Bloody U-shaped prints on his side, his chest. One arm hung limp. More blood and manure splattered his jeans.

  “What happened?” I barely managed a whisper.

  Jack managed to wink at me, a bruise around his left eye. He wiped at the blood on his lip. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

  Dad glared at me. “Get my coat and keys. I’m taking Jack to the hospital. Tomorrow, that killer goes to the slaughter house.”

  “What killer?” Dread filled me. “What happened?”

  “Twaziem cornered Jack and almost killed him. I’m done with that horse.” Rage filled Dad’s face, tightening his jaw. “He’s out of here first thing in the morning. I’m not giving that monster another chance at your brother.”

  “It’s not his fault.” More blood ran down Jack’s chin.

  I remembered what I’d heard about internal injuries in health class and ran for the phone to call 9-1-1. Jack needed an ambulance. When I glanced at him again, he drooped in Dad’s arms.

  I gave our address to the operator and told her that my brother had lost consciousness. Why did I even try to save Twaz? I should have let Mr. Johnson take him to the slaughter house in the first place. It would have saved us from all this grief. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “Not as sorry as that crazy horse is going to be.”

  After they left for the hospital, I wandered from room to room. I saw the kittens playing in the living room drapes, but I couldn’t pick them up for a quick cuddle. Mom was off at one of her craft fairs and wouldn’t be back for ages. I knew if both my parents agreed that Twaziem was a threat, the guy was a goner. It wasn’t fair. I’d spent so much time on him. And maybe I didn’t gush over the horse, but it didn’t mean I didn’t care about him.

  I grabbed my coat and a handful of carrots, and stopped in the back porch for my boots. I would go visit him and see if I could discover why he went berserk. There had to be a reason. Nobody freaked without one. In the barn, I flipped the light switch. I walked down the aisle, checking the horses. All of them munched hay.

  What was that about? Normally, Twaziem would be in a paddock while his stall was cleaned and return in time for supper. The wheelbarrow stood in front of his door. I eyed it suspiciously. Why was my horse inside if Jack was mucking? Or had my perfect brother made a mistake?

  I slid open the stall door to look inside. A bale of shavings sat in the opposite corner from the water tub. Twaziem turned his head when he heard me and nickered. “Good boy,” I managed to say around the lump in my throat. “You’re a good boy, Twaz.”

  What had Jack been thinking? The rake and flat shovel leaned against the wall, but the pitchfork lay on the floor. It was pure luck that Twaziem hadn’t stepped on the plastic tines and broken them or stabbed himself with the fork. Okay, so it couldn’t kill him the way an old-fashioned metal one could, but it was still dangerous.

  I walked over to it, bent, and snaked the fork over to me. Then, I walked around Twaz and collected the other tools. Last of all, I brought the bale of shavings up to the front of the stall. “Okay, booger-butt, I’ll clean the horsy rooms before I do the rest of the chores, but you have got to get over yourself. Stop picking on Jack. It’s not his fault he looks like Caine, and my brother would never hurt you.”

  Twaziem snorted at the sound of my voice. He didn’t budge from where he stood in front of the manger. Nothing ever seemed to distract him from a meal, but my brother had.

  “Robin, what are you doing?” Mom stood at the stall door. “Your dad called from the hospital and said that he left you at home. He’s totally lost it.”

  “Well, his perfect Jack screwed up,” I said, scooping poop, “and my stupid horse hurt him.”

  Twaziem stomped his front feet, and I paused to pet him. “Of course, that didn’t give you the right to kick him.”

  “Nobody except you says your brother is perfect.” Mom sighed and walked in to check the water tub. “And your dad always freaks when one of you kids gets hurt. He wanted to shoot Vinnie the last time Felicia fell during a jumping lesson.”

  “I don’t want Twaziem to go to slaughter,” I said, beginning to feel a bit better. It sounded like she was on my side. “Maybe I don’t get mushy all the time, but it doesn’t mean I want him dead.”

  “Honey, I’d never send a horse there. I’d just have Dr. Larry put Twaziem down at home, and we’d bury him here like we did Cobbie.” Mom left the stall to go after the hose. “I don’t think your horse needs to worry about a long trip to Canada from Stanwood. Did your brother try to clean around him?”

  “Yes. At least I think so. I found the tools in the stall along with Twaz. He must have been frightened and attacked Jack before—”

  “Your brother got him.” Mom sighed and shook her head as she filled the water tub. “Sweetie, I don’t think we can wait to train him. We’re going to have to arrange for Rocky to start working with him now before this bad behavior escalates anymore.”

  I cleaned up the last of the wet spot, then took the tools to the hallway so I could put down fresh shavings. “Will you talk to Dad?”

  “Yes. He’s already calming down and starting to think. At the hospital, Jack kept telling your father that the accident was his entire fault.” Mom finished watering. “Come on, Robin. We have a lot of chores to do. And since your horse made the problem, you’ll have to do the barns full-time until Jack recovers.”

  “I’m going to be totally overloaded until Christmas.” I moaned. “Cross-country practice, two more meets, my first job, my internship, and I’ll bet you still expect me to do homework for all my classes.”

  Mom laughed and patted my back. “Let’s go, drama diva. I’ll help you.”

  * * * *

  Monday, October 28th, 7:20 a.m.

  This time I was the one who was almost late for school. Morning chores took forever even when Mom milked the cow. Vicky flagged me down in the Commons, holding out a huge mocha. “My turn to buy. Your turn to chug it.”

  I managed to smile at her. “I’m amazed you’re speaking to me after what Twaz did to Jack.”

  “Oh, I’m talking to you,” Vicky said. “I’m just not speaking to him. He got all pissy with me when I told him that he got what he deserved for being so stupid.”

  I finished gulping my coffee on our way to English class. I’d barely sat down when Dani plopped into the chair beside me. “Is this afternoon still a good time for Harry and me to come shoot some video of your horse?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but Harry needs to be careful. Jack went in to clean Twaz’s stall last night. He was kicked, struck, and bitten before he managed to get away. Coach will probably be looking for me since there’s no way that Jack will be able to play this week. He has cracked ribs, a wrenched shoulder and a twisted ankle, plus a ton of bruises.”

  “And he’s really whiny.” Vicky leaned around me. “Jake should never have trusted a horse that Caine abused, but my silly boyfriend said he was in a hurry to get chores done. Now, he’s out of the barn until he’s back to a hundred-percent.”

  “And I’m in it,” I said. “It takes forever for me to do chores by myself. The only comfort is that Mom says Jack’s on housework for the duration of his injuries. You should have heard him snivel when she said it only took one hand to run the vacuum cleaner.”

  “I’ll bet he loves that,” Dani teased.

  “Hardly.” Vicky began to giggle. “I’ll have to call and sympathize with him. Now, he’ll know what my nights are like.”

  “Barely,” I said, starting to smile. “We don’t have any little kids.”

  The last bell rang and the three of us dove for comp books. Mondays always meant an extra-long write, and Mrs. Weaver had been on an anti-bullying kick for the past week. Gawd knew how awful the prompt would be!

  * * * *

 
Monday, October 28th, 2:20 p.m.

  Gwen led the stretching exercises for the team today, and then we took off for our run through Marysville. The pressure was on, so nobody complained when she headed for Golf Course Hill. If we won the next two meets, we’d be the undefeated champions in our division. I was really looking forward to rubbing our victories in the faces of the Mount Pilchuck team. We knew we had to be going to the state competitions. None of the other schools came close to what we’d done this year. And Olivia was already talking about kicking butt next spring in track.

  When practice ended, it was time to go to the Mustang Corral. I’d be washing cars for the next hour and a half. Then, Dad would pick me up, and we’d go home so I could do the chores. Jack had skipped school today, but he’d be back tomorrow. I figured it was up to my folks to keep him out of the barn and away from the critters. Mom had already started making a list of housework. Jack complained, but I knew he’d turn out to be as good at house cleaning as he was at stall mucking.

  I’d just soaked the candy-apple red Mustang when I saw a guy in a fancy blue uniform walking toward me. As he came closer, I realized he was a soldier. The combat boots and tan beret were a definite giveaway. He had a ton of medals on his jacket. I turned the nozzle on the end of my hose to cut off the spray. “Can I help you? Are you thinking about buying a car?”

  “Actually, I’m looking for someone.” He smiled at me. “Is this Brenna Thornton’s place?”

  “Yes, it is.” I didn’t smile back. “Are you the guy who broke her heart for a joke in Afghanistan?”

  He eyed me and the hose. “That’s not the way I’d phrase it.”

  “But, you’re not me,” I said, “and a player doesn’t deserve any respect from me.”

  I lifted my hose, cranked the end, and watched him run for the office trailer. He didn’t know the cross-country creed of, “When you go after one of us, all of us get you.” It was only fair to give him a couple steps so he’d think he’d make it. And then I cut loose with the spray.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Monday, October 28th, 5:05 p.m.

  I’d finished the last of the red Mustangs and moved onto the black one when Brenna came out of the office trailer. I flicked a quick glance at her and kept soaping the hood. “So do I still have a job? Or are you firing my butt for watering down the jerk?”

  A smile trickled across her lips, up to her eyes and then she burst out laughing. “Honey, you have a job for life if you want it.” She grabbed me in a hug. “Nobody has ever stood up for me the way you did. I admire your guts.”

  “Hey, I admire yours. I couldn’t go to war.”

  “Sweetheart, I think you just did.” Brenna stepped back and grinned at me. “You deserve to know that he came to see me because he broke things off with the fiancée as soon as he got home. He just wouldn’t do it from a war zone when she was waiting for him. I don’t know what comes next—”

  “What took him so long to get here?” I asked. “Haven’t you been home for months?”

  “He’s a career soldier, and it took a while for him to get leave.” She shrugged. “So, we wait and see. He has a lot to do to convince me he can be trusted.”

  At least she was thinking. She wasn’t just falling at his feet. I glanced at my watch. “Okay if I finish this car and head out today? I have to do chores. My horse attacked Jack over the weekend, and he can’t do barns for a while.”

  “That’s fine. When is your next meet?”

  “Oh, I forgot,” I said. “It’s been moved to Wednesday because everybody complains so much when we have one on Halloween. I don’t mind washing cars on Thursday if that’s all right.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll see you then.” With a wave, she headed back to the office.

  When Dad and I arrived home, Rocky’s pickup was in the drive. I changed and headed to the barn. Rocky was feeding carrots to Twaziem when I arrived. She’d already groomed him and had started teaching him to work on a longe line. She waved to me, and I walked over to her to stand in the middle of her circle.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Some things you need to know about him.” She flipped the end of the rope at him and Twaz eyed her warily before he took a step. “Never use a whip on him, not even a long one to get him going. He sees it as a threat and wants to attack.”

  I nodded, turning with her. “Okay, I hadn’t thought about it, but I won’t take chances with a whip. How do I deal with his gender bias?”

  “Start by teaching him that all guys aren’t the same,” Rocky said. “Dani and I did a little bit earlier this afternoon. She and her boyfriend groomed Twaziem while I held him. He’s coming back tomorrow. Are there any other guys this horse likes?”

  “Bill, but I haven’t seen him since I got angry at him last week.”

  “You may want to consider apologizing to him if he can help with training.”

  “He totally pissed me off when he let a guy steal a video off his phone.”

  Rocky just gave me her ‘drop dead’ stare before she said, “With a crappy attitude like that, Robin, it’s a good thing you don’t work in law enforcement. Why aren’t you blaming your horse for almost dying of starvation?”

  “It’s not his fault that he didn’t get fed.” I stopped to think. Okay, she had a point. “I have to go muck stalls, and maybe I was too hard on Bill.”

  “Then, I’ll let you figure out how to make amends.” She gave a little wave of her hand. “Go shovel poop. It’ll be good for you.”

  After I finished the rest of the chores, I came back to the arena. Rocky had me longe Twaziem for a few minutes before I led him to his stall for supper. “How often are you going to come train him?”

  “Either Sierra or I will be here every day to work with him. Groom him at least an hour a day and clean his feet several times during the process. Many young horses hate having their hooves done, and you don’t want to have new problems start.”

  “I hate picking hooves,” I said, “and today I had to do everybody else’s feet.”

  “Poor baby.” Rocky didn’t sound like she meant it. She patted my shoulder as if I were my horse. “Actually, you’ve done a good job training Twaziem so far. I’ll need you to keep helping me and Sierra. He trusts you, and it’ll be easier for him if you spend time with us.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I think I’ll probably keep him longer than I originally planned. He needs to bond with people, and so far I’m one of the few that he actually likes.”

  “What are your plans for him?” Rocky asked. “You’ll be riding him next summer.”

  “I’d like to show him the way that Dani shows Lady.”

  “Then, we’ll concentrate on training him for western pleasure.”

  I was in the middle of my algebra assignment that night when Jack limped into my room. “What?”

  “Vicky’s on the landline. We’re done talking, and she wants to connect with you.” He gave me an older brother look. “This is the last time I’m going to ask you to stop being mean to Bill. He’s taking it hard. I had to tell him that punching out Caine wasn’t an answer, and that’s pretty touchy-feely for me.”

  “Yeah, well, Rocky jumped on my case about it today too.” I got up and headed for the door, stopping to give him a baby hug on the way. I didn’t want to hurt his ribs. “I guess I wanted to be mad at someone about that video, and Bill was handy. I sure couldn’t go kick Caine’s butt.”

  “Life will kick him in the teeth for us.” Jack hugged me back. “Glad you’re not mad at me anymore.”

  “Likewise.” Mom was in her craft room and Dad was in his study, so I nabbed the living room extension to talk to Vicky. “Hey, what’s up? Jack and I aren’t fighting anymore. Are you okay?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. I finished whining at him about my family, and he sniveled at me about having to help cook supper and then do dishes. So, we decided it’s your turn to listen.”

  “Yeah, well how do I tell Bill I’m sorry I was a jerk?” I asked.

/>   “I don’t know. Send him flowers?”

  We both laughed, but actually it wasn’t a bad idea. I could have them delivered to him at school. We threw around a few other ideas, like a card or candy or just walking up and saying what I had to say.

  After a few minutes, Vicky cut to the subject on her mind. “Anyway, I was talking to my mom about helping you out in the barns because I’d be off the cheer squad if you hadn’t stepped up to help me. She says the only days I could come would be Fridays and Saturdays since that’s when my dad has the kids and I don’t. Will it be any help?”

  “It’d be a lot of help,” I said. “Friday, we could take you to the game after chores, and if you spent the night here, then we could go straight to Shamrock Stable. When I finish my lesson, I go to work down at the Mustang Corral.”

  “How do you like it? Washing cars seems like a stupid job to me.”

  “I love it.” I giggled. Then I told her all about cutting loose with the hose on Brenna’s heartthrob. We talked for another half-hour before I went back to my algebra and knocked the problems into submission. I didn’t have a hose, but then again, I didn’t need one.

  Afterwards, I went online and found a cool arrangement of ten long-stemmed blue iris and ten yellow roses. School colors. Awesome! They’d be perfect to send to Bill. I didn’t talk to Dad about it. He was such a guy, and he wouldn’t believe I wanted to give flowers to Bill. I headed for Mom’s sewing room. She listened to everything. She totally understood how I felt. And she loaned me her credit card. Yippee! I’d have to pay her back from my first check at the Mustang Corral. That was cool. Now, the flower arrangement would truly be from me.

  * * * *

  Wednesday, October 30th, 3:30 p.m.