01 Do You Believe in Magic - The Children of Merlin (28 page)

“When you have a family like
mine, you learn to watch for the signs. I care about my brother,
Miss O’Brian. In spite of his vast experience, he isn’t very
sophisticated when it comes to women. Especially the ones drawn by
the cachet of his business.”

“Cachet? He’s got a
body
shop
.” She tried to put scorn in her voice. But she respected
Tris for trying to make his own way. Still, she wanted to know just
how Tris managed to date starlets. “Dated” being another word for
“screwed.” Was it because of his business somehow?

“He does high-end work for
Hollywood types and the rebellious progeny of the zillionaire set.
And Jay Leno, of course.” Kemble sounded disgusted. “That’s what I
hear anyway. Luckily Mother doesn’t do her own grocery shopping, so
she doesn’t see tabloids.”

Actually, Maggie could
understand Kemble trying to protect his mother from stories about
Tris and the robot movie girl.

“After the first sightings with
prominent starlets, the tabloids printed that he was one of seven
heirs to an industrial empire. Then the harpies really came out of
the woodwork. Bad boy fixes hot rods and will inherit billions.
Good thing he’s such an expert at walking away.”

Billion? With a B?
Oh,
that was not comforting on so many levels. “Well, let me set your
mind at rest. I am not after Tris or his future inheritance. He
needed a ride. I was coming to LA. End of story. I’m going home to
my mortgaged spread and take care of my alcoholic father for as
long as I can stand to do it, and I’m going to be in Denver in
three weeks rodeoing for that purse I need. So don’t worry about
your little brother. He’s safe from my schemes. You’ll have to deal
with the Hollywood trash separately but I’m sure you’re up to
that.”

He started to say something, but
she cut him off.

“We’re done talking, Mr.
Tremaine. I’m not putting you out of the truck because your family
is very nice but I don’t have to take any more insults. Silence
would be good about now.”

This trip was worse than sitting next to
Tris for ten hours yesterday by a long shot.

*****

Tris fumed all the way to
Anaheim Hills. Drew wasn’t happy either. At least Tris gathered
that from her muttered comments about proposing legislation that
horse trailers be disallowed on freeways if they couldn’t go at
least seventy miles an hour and about the general lameness of
hybrid vehicles. The rest of the Brood was in fine fettle. So much
so Tris had to call a halt to an incipient rendition of
“Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer” accompanied by Lanyon’s flute if he
wanted a shred of sanity left by the time they reached the
camp.

The fact that Kemble would have
an hour alone in the truck with Maggie to charm her with his
Harvard sophistication was ... well, it made Tris want to hit
something. Too bad his brother wasn’t available. Of
course
Kemble was attracted to Maggie. Who wouldn’t be? Her direct ways
and down-to-earth approach to life must be refreshing after the
kind of social flutterers Kemble always seemed to end up with.
Maggie must seem like life itself.

She does to me.

He was so anxious he couldn’t
even take a minute to be afraid of what that thought really meant.
What would he do if she preferred Kemble? And what woman wouldn’t
prefer the Prince of Wales to the little mechanic boy who wore
ragged jeans and had tats? He should have made Maggie deliver her
horses yesterday and taken a cab from Anaheim Hills home. Then
she’d never have met Kemble. He could have camped out on Elroy’s
porch later until she came home, or met her in Denver at the
rodeo—anything to keep her away from Kemble.

But then you wouldn’t have had
last night.

And he wouldn’t have given that
up for anything. He wanted more of Maggie. The mere thought of what
might happen tonight had him hot and bothered.

If
she still wanted Tris
when she could have Kemble....

Camp Atchatawanee was nestled in
a little canyon up behind the planned housing developments of
Anaheim Hills. The main road was shaded by dozens of Brazilian
pepper trees, their graceful trailing branches and fine leaves
moving in a light breeze. The facilities seemed to consist of
several barns, a couple of lighted rings, an office building which
had signs for restrooms, and a series of turnout corrals populated
by horses ambling around or lipping flakes of hay. Tris recognized
several mustangs, but these were sleek and shiny. He wondered if
they were Maggie’s haul from the last year’s sale. The buildings
weren’t flashy. The place had been here for years, that was
obvious. But the fences were whitewashed and the barns kept in
repair. The parking lot was full of cars, and in one ring seven
horses were being led around by attendants, as they carried kids of
various ages and disabilities. One girl had an amputated leg. He
recognized a couple of faces that said “Down syndrome.” With others
he wasn’t quite sure what the problem might be. The only thing they
had in common was their big grins. Parents lined the railing and
applauded as the horses broke into a slow trot, their attendants
running beside them.

He still couldn’t believe
Maggie’s mustangs of the plunging hooves, which had never been
ridden, belonged in this camp. Was he about to see some horrible
disaster?
Remember Indian River,
he chided himself.
You
didn’t believe she knew what she was doing then either.

Maggie seemed to know where she
was going at least. She pulled down a lane between the corrals
barely wide enough for her trailer. Drew followed as Tammy
exclaimed about the horses, the kids, the footing in the ring.
Lanyon’s flute started cycling through every piece of western music
he knew, from the old
Paladin
TV show theme to the movie
music of
A Fistful of Dollars
.

A capable-looking lady in jeans,
tee shirt, and denim vest came striding out from one of the barns,
grinning and holding out her hand as Maggie got out of the truck.
She had short, steel-gray hair and a face whose lines said she’d
spent a lifetime in the sun.

“Maggie O’Brian,” she said.
“Some guy called to tell us you’d been delayed. No trouble I hope?”
She clapped Maggie on the back. As Tris clambered out of the
passenger seat of the Highlander, the Brood emerged from the
back.

“Ginny, so good to see you
again,” Maggie returned. “Sorry about the delay. I, uh, ended up
with a passenger I had to drop over in Palos Verdes.”

Ginny’s eyes rose to the crowd
of Tremaines. Her smile made her eyes crinkle almost closed. “I see
you brought friends.”

“Uh, Ginny Mason, this is the
Tremaine family. Kemble.” Kemble held out his hand. Did he have to
be wearing loafers? It made them look like rich slackers.

“I’m Tammy.” Tammy the
Irrepressible surged forward. “What a cool facility you have.”

“And you’re a rider, I see,”
Ginny laughed, noting the English breeches and boots.

“Well, not like Maggie, but I’m
learning.”

“We all start somewhere.” She
glanced around to the others and Maggie made the introductions.
“Well, what did you bring us?”

“Got four real good ones for
you. They’re going to be great with the kids.”

“Let’s get them out and take a
look.” Ginny looked around. “Where are the hands when you need
them?”

“I can help unload,” Tris said
gruffly. At least he knew that was one thing Kemble would never
sign up for. But he’d forgotten his cast.

“You look like a personal injury
suit waiting to happen,” Ginny said. “No offense.”

Tris flushed.

“I’ll help unload. I trailer
Caliburn all the time. Devin knows how, too.” Tammy corralled Devin
and the two of them went to work.

“I wouldn’t have thought
disabled children would be able to ride like that,” Kemble said.
He’d been watching the ring as Maggie’s mustangs backed down the
ramp. “What made you think of starting a camp like this?”

“Children and animals have a
connection,” Ginny said, as she looked over the horse Maggie called
Buck. “Caring for an animal gives them a sense of responsibility.
Learning to ride tells them they can do anything if they put their
mind to it. It can change their lives.”

To Tris’s surprise Kemble didn’t
deride such simple faith. He just looked thoughtful.

Maggie handed her lead rope to
Drew and went from horse to horse, touching them softly, murmuring
about their new life, and directing their attention to the riding
ring with the kids. “They should be good to go, Ginny. You can put
them in your regular lineup.”

“I’ll ride them first, just to
be sure,” Ginny said.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Maggie
chuckled. “Have I ever brought horses that weren’t kid-ready?”

“No.” Ginny grinned. “But I’ve
got to show the parents I’m indispensable, don’t I? Felipé,” she
called to a Hispanic guy in his mid-twenties. “There you are. Can
you have the guys take our newcomers out to the big turnouts?”

“Si, Señora.” He got on a
walkie-talkie, and soon the mustangs were being led away.

“Can I offer you some coffee?
Soda?” Ginny asked.

But before anyone could politely
decline, a thunderous series of thuds came from the bigger barn,
immediately joined by the shrill shrieking of a terrified animal in
pain.

Ginny was off at a run with
Maggie right behind her. “Sounds like a horse is cast.”

Tris limped after them as fast
as he could with his damned splinted leg. The others passed him on
the way in to see what had happened. Felipé and another guy
appeared at the far end of the barn. The shrieking and thuds
continued nonstop.

“Damn it,” he heard Ginny swear
from where she hung over a stall door. “He’s got a foot hooked
under the waterer.”

Tris smelled blood. What the
hell had happened?

“I’ll go in and try to get him
turned,” Felipé said. He’d pushed in through the Tremaines to stand
beside Ginny and Maggie.

“You will not,” Ginny shouted
over the noise. The wall of the stall was quivering under
tremendous blows from inside. “We’ve got to let him wear himself
out.”

Tris herded Tammy and the kids
to the back, signaling to Drew to take them in hand. Whatever was
in there, he didn’t want them to see.

“You can’t wait. He’s cutting
his leg to ribbons on the waterer.” Maggie wasn’t shouting, but
somehow her words just cut right through the other noise.

Now Tris could see over the
women’s heads into the stall. A horse was on its back, right up
against the wall so it couldn’t roll over to get up. It was
thrashing wildly, banging hooves against the wall, its eyes rimmed
white with fear and pain. One rear hoof was mashed up under the
triangular struts of the waterer. One strut had broken and now
gouged into its leg repeatedly.

Tammy started to cry. Drew
grabbed her and pulled her into a hug.

“I can’t have anyone hurt,”
Ginny shouted.

“Señora, we must do something,”
Felipé pleaded.

“I’ll take care of this,” Maggie
almost whispered, yet Tris still heard her clearly.

“You’re not going in there,” he
said through gritted teeth. She didn’t answer. He saw her go still,
the way she had at the mustang rescue ranch. She took two deep
breaths.

Suddenly calm washed over Tris
like a wave. Every muscle he’d been tensing relaxed. All sound
seemed muffled, as though he were submerged in warm bathwater. And
nothing was urgent. It would all be okay. The horse would be fine.
Maggie didn’t want Kemble. Tris would work it out with his family.
He’d work it out with Maggie. And it felt good. So good that his
eyes began to droop in relief. He sagged against the wood of the
barn wall. From somewhere far away, he saw Ginny and Felipé doing
the same. And look, Tammy had stopped crying. That was good. Drew
was slit-eyed and slack-mouthed, holding Tammy up, and Kemble ...
Kemble looked like a sleepy puppy. That made Tris want to smile.
Devin and Kee abruptly sank to the dirt floor of the barn aisle.
Lanyon dropped like a rock beside them. He was dead asleep.

Maggie looked around, appalled.
She seemed unaffected. “Are... are you okay?”

He gave her what some part of
him knew was a loopy grin and nodded. “Great.”

“Oh... oh dear!” She shook her
head anxiously. But then she glanced back into the stall. “Okay,”
she said firmly. Tris heard her from a long way away. She opened
the stall door.

“You shouldn’t go in there,” he
managed.

“I’ll be fine.”

And she would. Things would all
be fine. The horse had quieted, its breathing deep and regular, its
eyes blinking slowly. She bent the bloody leg and got it out from
under the waterer. Then she grasped the far side legs and pulled
the horse over on its side toward her. It lay there breathing
deeply, calmly.
Just like me,
Tris thought.
That’s
good.

For a long minute they all stood
there, or sat or lay as the case might be. Maggie let herself out
of the stall. She came over to Tris, looking apologetic. He
blinked. Had she just gone into the stall with a horse crazy with
pain and kicking out? Was she a lunatic?

Around the circle, others had
started to blink back into reality too.

“Wow,” Ginny said.

That pretty well summed it
up.

“That was... interesting.” This
from Kemble, who no longer looked like a sleepy puppy. He exchanged
a piercing stare with Drew.

Then Drew turned to Tammy. “You
okay, hon?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. What was that?
I felt so... so relaxed there for a minute.”

“Well, uh, never mind,” Maggie
said, as Kee, Devin, and Lanyon stood and dusted themselves off.
“It’s all good, right? The horse is free.” Behind her, the horse
scrambled to its feet, nickering in confusion. “Ginny, better get a
vet.”