Everyone else just laughed.
“This from the girl who now has a pet cow?” Michael mocked.
“That’s different. I don’t plan on eating Taffy.”
“Not yet anyhow. You do like burgers.” He wiggled an eyebrow.
Rachael couldn’t argue with that. She did like beef. But Taffy was a pet, not dinner!
Michael got to choose dinner that night, keeping with the Harte birthday tradition. As always, he chose pizza, breadsticks, and soda. Afterwards, Rachael and her father sat in front of the fireplace enjoying a cup of decaf.
“I haven’t heard you mention much about your friend Travis lately. Is everything okay?” he asked gently.
“Yes. Well, not really.” Rachael frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Several things…most of which have nothing to do with Travis. It has gotten really bad, Dad. I actually think I like him, as in really like him. I haven’t wanted to admit it even to myself. Then there was this night, a few months ago now, I almost kissed him! Not the other way around. He made no move to kiss me. It was all me! I felt horrible.”
“Horrible? Why? You’re single now. Why not go after him if you like him?”
“Horrible because the almost-kiss happened when I was still dating Colten. And now that I’m not dating Colten, Travis is dating some amazingly beautiful barrel racer. Our timing is messed up. When we hang out, I even feel like we are dating, but we aren’t. I’m so frustrated, I can hardly stand it!”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” She blew on her hot decaf, then took another sip.
He pursed his lips. “Honey, I just wanted to say I think you’re handling this whole situation very well. It can’t be easy—this constant back and forth. It’s only natural that you would have different friends and different interests in both places. You shouldn’t feel guilty about your break-up with Colten or developing feelings for someone new, even if you became aware of those feelings before your break-up. You have a good circle of friends in Manatee County now, activities, a life. All of these things are good. And if you like this Travis as much as you think you do, then maybe you should consider he might be the right person for you to date. Trust me. If he wants to date you too, he’ll ask you out. Maybe right now he has his own reasons for not doing so. Be patient.
“Before I dated your mother, I dated another girl very seriously for several years. I loved her, but in a different way. Then I met another girl who blew my world apart. She was nothing like anyone I had ever met. She was from the country. I was from the city. She was tough, yet sophisticated. I knew the day I met her that I liked her and was destined to marry her. That girl was your mother. I broke up with my girlfriend. I had to wait six long months for your mother to break up with this jerk she had been dating. When she finally dumped him, we started dating a few months later. We married a few years after that, and here we are.”
“I didn’t know that, Dad.”
He grinned. “It’s the truth. And it may surprise you to know my ex-girlfriend didn’t die of a broken heart. She went on to marry the love of her life. Just think about all of that. I’m not saying Travis is the one for you. You have plenty of time to date dozens of young men, if that’s what you want to do.”
“Dozens?” Rachael almost choked.
“Yes. Well, I meant dinner and a movie. That sort of thing. Not nookie and all the other stuff.”
“Okay, Dad. Thanks for the clarification. We’re good. No one’s having ‘nookie’ around here.” Now that her cheeks were flushed warm, she decided now would be the perfect time to excuse herself and go call Maysie, who was vacationing somewhere in Colorado for a few weeks.
“Hey, Rachael. How’s Palm Beach?”
“Great. I have been spending some quality time here with my dad. Shopping for shoes, earrings, and talking hair and all that kind of stuff.”
“Really! With your dad?”
“Yeah. He possesses some hidden talents I’d never have guessed. Thanks for suggesting I focus my energy on spending quality time with him.”
Maysie giggled. “You’re welcome. We’re having so much fun out here in Colorado, staying in the same resort we stay in every year. It’s beautiful!”
“When do you fly back into town?”
“This week. We left Tristan caring for all of the horses and watching the ranch while we’re gone.”
“He seems like a good guy.”
“He is.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I’ve always secretly had a crush on him, but my parents say he’s way too old for me.”
“Isn’t he in his twenties?”
“Twenty-three. That’s not too bad. Only seven years’ difference.”
“Seven years? You’re only sixteen.”
“It seems like a lot now,” Maysie said sweetly, “but in five more years, it’ll be nothing.”
“What about Adam?”
Maysie sighed dramatically. “What about him? We’re dating, and I really like him, but if I started talking marriage and serious stuff with any guy, my dad would shoot him…and then me. I don’t plan on marrying anyone until I’m in my late twenties, way post college. I’m sixteen. So what do you think the chances are of Adam and me making it until then?”
“I think pretty good if you wanted to make it until then,” Rachael said politely.
“Well, maybe we will. But you’ll never hear me mention it. I don’t want my dad and Travis freaking out. It’s different for you, Rachael. I think your dad is a little more laid-back.”
“That’s for sure. Today he suggested I date dozens of guys…seriously, he did.” She laughed. “But then he felt the need to make one minor clarification. Just dating—no nookie.”
“Nookie!” Maysie giggled. “What kind of crazy word is nookie?”
“I think it is a polite way of saying no sex until marriage.”
Both girls laughed. Then they chattered on about their plans for the summer.
3
IT WAS HARD TO LEAVE HER FATHER BEHIND, once again, in Palm Beach, but they didn’t have any choice. He had to stay there until all the legal business was completed. This time it was even more hard to say good-bye as Rachael and her father had found a closeness in their relationship—as not only father and daughter but friend—that she’d never imagined they could have.
Over at the Baxters’, Rachael had upgraded to Creamsicle and was amazed at the progress she had made in her riding. Inside the round pen she was now able to back, trot, lope, and spin her horse. She certainly wasn’t on the level of a Maysie or a Travis, but she was at least functional. Today Maysie led her horse to a much larger round pen—the size of an arena. Three barrels were set up in a triangle shape.
Maysie smiled. “I thought it was time we took your riding up a level. This is my show arena where I practice my barrel racing. It’ll give you a good opportunity to take your horse from loping to galloping.”
Rachael didn’t know all that much about barrel racing, aside from the fact it was a rodeo sport where women circled barrels. But galloping she thought she understood, and her mouth dropped open. “You mean full speed running?”
“Yes. Full speed.” Maysie must have seen Rachael’s expression, because she winked. “Don’t be afraid. You’re in an enclosed arena. The horse can’t run off with you.”
“That would be really bad.”
“That’s why you’re going to learn to gallop and stop your horse in here. Creamsicle is already trained on barrels so it’ll give you a head start.”
“So she knows what to do.” Rachael laughed. “At least that makes one of us.”
“Just follow me and Pretty Girl. I’ll walk around the barrels to show you how to do a Cloverleaf pattern—that’s what it is called. You can start on either the right or left side, though I usually start on the right.”
“Okay.” Rachael followed Maysie and her horse slowly through the turns.
It doesn’t seem so hard.
As Ma
ysie walked her horse through the final turn, she gave Rachael some pointers.
“The object of barrel racing is to make your run in the fastest possible time, without knocking over any barrels in the process. Eventually you’ll enter the arena and cross the starting line at top speed, round the barrels at a speed that’s fast without overshooting the barrels or knocking them over, and then exit the third barrel crossing the finish line at top speed. But today our main focus will be to familiarize you with the barrels. If Creamsicle had never raced barrels before you’d want to start by walking her around the barrels. Since she knows barrel racing, we’ll do this a few times just for you. Then we’ll try trotting around the barrels. Then loping, and eventually galloping.”
After Rachael walked successfully around the barrels a few times, she tried her hand at a trot. Not so bad.
Maysie coached her through the barrels from Pretty Girl’s back. “You’re doing great. Just make sure you tell Creamsicle exactly what you want her to do. When you turn her around the barrel, apply pressure with your outside leg. This tells her to turn more sharply. The closer you are to your barrel, the faster your time will be. It’s just like a runner on a racetrack. The inside lanes are the shortest. The further out from the inside lanes you are, the more distance you have to cover. The more distance you add, the more time you add. Got it?”
“Got it. I’m sure glad I’m doing this on Creamsicle and not a horse that has never seen a barrel,” Rachael confided.
“That’s probably not a bad idea.”
“What?”
“Let’s get you on a horse that’s never seen a barrel before, so you can feel the difference.”
Was that my suggestion? Bad idea, Rachael.
Maysie left the arena and returned with a tall gelding.
“This here is Bad Boy. He’s an American Quarter Horse, but he’s used for parting and cutting, not barrel racing. Let’s see what he thinks about these barrels.”
“Sure.” But Rachael was anything but sure.
“Just walk him.”
Don’t worry. I will.
Riding this horse made Rachael nervous. She had never ridden him before, and his name suggested he wasn’t well behaved.
When Rachael attempted to walk him up to the first barrel he was very reluctant to even approach it. When she started to circle the barrel, he watched it very closely, like he expected it to jump toward him. He was at least three feet from the barrel. No matter how much Rachael tried, she couldn’t get him any closer to it. By the final barrel, he seemed at least to realize the barrel wasn’t alive and out to get him.
“Whew! What a difference the horse can make,” Rachael said.
“And the rider!” Maysie acknowledged. “Both are equally important pieces of the puzzle. Now let’s switch back to Creamsicle. You can walk or trot her, but until you’re ready, I don’t think you should run her.”
Rachael was relieved. She suspected Creamsicle’s horsemanship was far superior to hers. They worked in the arena for another hour.
When they finished, Travis leaned on the fence at the far end of the arena, peering through the slats of the boards.
“Hey stranger,” Rachael called out as she rode up to him.
“You’re really doing well. You might be ready for some real riding soon.”
Maysie’s eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth.
Rachael interceded before he and Maysie entered into one of their bickering matches. “And you’re the expert on that, I’m sure.”
“Sure am,” he said with a cocky grin. “Just let me know when you’re ready for a lesson.”
“I don’t know. Another six months under Maysie’s tutelage and I might be giving you a lesson or two.” Rachael lifted her chin.
“You might.” Travis grinned even wider and then walked away.
“Guys! Why are they such know-it-alls all the time?” Maysie asked disgustedly.
“I thought I handled him pretty well,” Rachael boasted.
“I don’t know. I bet he thinks you were flirting with him.”
“Flirting with him?!”
Maysie gave her the look. “Yes, Rachael. When you offer to give a cowboy riding lessons, their mind always goes someplace bad. They’re guys. They can’t help it.”
Rachael covered her face. “But that’s not what I meant!”
“I know that, and so does he, but he’s a guy and he can pretend. Why do you think he didn’t offer any protest?”
“That’s it. From now on I’ll leave you two to handle your own disputes.” Rachael blushed fiercely. She decided to call it a day before she put her foot in her mouth again with anyone, especially Travis.
*
When Rachael got home, her mother was waiting to talk to her.
“Hey, honey, got a minute?”
“Sure. What’s going on?” In the past several months Rachael had gotten very good at reading her mother’s body language. The “chat position” her mother was sitting in now on the sofa in the living room was one Rachael recognized as “take a seat. I have some bad news.”
“I’m leaving for Palm Beach again tonight. Mrs. Baxter has very nicely offered to drive me back over. Your father’s attorney called today and informed us his trial date has been set for early September for all three charges. I think your father may need me now.”
“Of course. And I’m sure the local news media is having a field day with all of it. I haven’t forgotten how they were during his last arrest. They’re probably at the gates to our driveway right now, waiting to pounce. Poor Dad.”
“Yes. Lonnie called and said they had a news truck set up there this morning trying to get an interview.”
“Tell Dad I’m thinking of him.”
“Yes, dear, I will.” Her mother paused. “There’s something else. Your father’s attorney feels they may not be able to make the first two charges of embezzlement and money-laundering stick, but worries they may find him guilty on the third charge of conspiracy. I’ve already spoken with Michael and wanted you both to be aware there is a real possibility your father may face some jail time following his trial.”
Rachael was stunned. “How can that be possible?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know all of the details.”
“But I thought Dad said he was innocent. That he had done nothing wrong! Was he lying?”
“Of course not. But as the attorney said, ignorance of the law is no excuse. I believe they may be able to pursue your father on a technicality he was not aware of.”
“In other words he broke the law without realizing he was doing it?”
“From what I understand that’s the argument the prosecutor is trying to make.”
“Well if his trial date is set for early September, I want to be there.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your father wouldn’t want you there.”
Rachael narrowed her eyes. “Not want me there? I don’t understand. He needs our support now more than ever. I’m going to be there.”
“Maybe I chose the wrong words. It’s not that he wouldn’t want you there. It’s that he wouldn’t want you to be upset by the proceedings. And if he’s found guilty, he wouldn’t want you to have a visual image of that for the rest of your life. Please understand. Also, if you are there, your brother will want to be there. He’s definitely too young to witness this, and I think you are too.”
“Mom, you’re completely unfair. I’m fifteen, nearly sixteen. And this is probably the most important moment in Dad’s life. I want to be there. I need to be there. I won’t take no for an answer!” she insisted.
Her mother lifted her chin in determination. “Your father and I have discussed it, and our decision is final. The answer is no. The subject is not open for further discussion.”
Tears streamed down Rachael’s cheeks as she fled to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She was angry, confused and, most of all, scared.
How is this even possible? There are murderers and thieves
out walking the streets. My dad is a good, generous, decent, and loving person. Doesn’t he deserve better than this? Isn’t prison a place for bad people? Not people like my dad.
Rachael dialed her father when her emotions had steadied. “Hey, Dad, Mom just told me about the trial date. Innocent until proven guilty. Right?” She tried to sound optimistic.
“Right. Besides, I have absolute faith in our criminal justice system. So how did the shoes and earrings go with your dress?”
“They looked stunning. You really have a good eye for fashion. Maybe you should get out of the land business and into something less dangerous, like teenage fashion.”
He laughed. “We could open a boutique called Cool Dad’s Fashions.”
“It would be a huge hit with every teenage girl in the United States. Just what every girl dreams of—her dad picking out all of her clothes. The clothes would consist mostly of huge, baggy pants that go all the way to the ankle and turtlenecks.”
“That’s not a bad idea. Our slogan could be: Reasonably priced clothing that upholds traditional family values.”
“Every girl would pretty much hate your store.” She giggled.
Later she couldn’t help but wonder if her dad was merely putting on a brave face for her. He had to be terrified. Facing a federal prison sentence was no minor thing. But no matter what his true feelings were, he was not revealing them to Rachael. She had to respect that and hope for the best.
*
The summer rains came near the end of June, and every afternoon held breezy thunderstorms. The change in weather made Creamsicle very frisky and what Maysie called “a little high-strung.” Maysie told Rachael it might be best to do some groundwork with her before training on barrels. When Rachael went out to get Creamsicle in from the pasture, the horse was running around and bucking a lot. Rachael was a little nervous to get on her, but Maysie assured her that horses went through mood changes just like people. If she wore her out a little with groundwork first, she would be fine.
After catching Creamsicle and brushing her down, Rachael saddled her. Maysie excused herself and went inside to grab a drink. At Maysie’s earlier suggestion Rachael led Creamsicle to the small round pen and took her through a series of groundwork training exercises to take some of the edge off of her energy. By the time she’d worked Creamsicle for about thirty minutes, Rachael felt secure in getting on her back.
Cowgirl Down (Redneck Debutante) Page 3
