Bold Beauty (13 page)

A knock came at the door.

“Come on in, Dad!” Lizzy called.

I didn't budge. The door opened, and footsteps crossed to my bed. I squeezed my eyes shut. The footsteps moved to Lizzy's side of the room.

“Night, Lizzy,” Dad whispered.

“Night, Dad.” Then Lizzy slipped into praying: “God, thanks for being Immanuel. Help Winnie turn around and see that you're in that boat with her.”

I knew she was talking about what Ralph had said in church, about Peter and the other fishermen and the storm, and Jesus sleeping in the boat. But I didn't care. All that mattered was Bold Beauty. I'd let her down. And tomorrow she'd be gone forever.

Dad left, and Lizzy read for a few minutes before turning off the light. Within seconds I heard the Lizzy-snore I'd known my whole life.

I sat up in bed. The full moon shined a spotlight through the window. White streams of light washed the pasture. I could see the outline of the hedge. In a few hours Bold Beauty would be taken away to a place where no one would think of her as a hunter. She'd be condemned to ride in circles, tugged on by riders who didn't love her like I did or like Adrianna would.

Unless . . .

I stared out at the hedge moving in the wind like a living thing.
Why can't you psych yourself into this, Winnie?

Maybe I'd pulled Beauty up because Summer and Richard made me nervous. If I could jump when nobody was around . . .

Why not? There was absolutely no reason Beauty and I couldn't clear that jump. And if I could get her over the hedge one time, then I could show Adrianna. It wouldn't be too late!

I could do it! I had to.

I pulled jeans over my pj's and boots over my bare feet and slipped outside. Dew drenched the fallen leaves and lurked in the cold, damp air. I moved through the barn as if in a dream, saddling and bridling Bold Beauty while Nickers and Towaco looked on.

Before I could stop myself, I mounted Beauty and guided her to the jumps. I knew every inch of the pasture. The ground shimmered in painted moonlight. I could do this. Of course I could.

Beauty and I cantered. An owl hooted. Crickets chirped louder and louder, in waves. We took the low jumps, the middle jumps. She picked up her pace as we galloped for the hedge. Faster and faster. No turning back. “We can do this, Beauty!”

But it was a lie. I could lie to my family. I could lie to myself. But I couldn't lie to Bold Beauty. Doubts and fear traveled through my skin to my fingers, through the reins, to the bit, where Beauty swallowed them. She hesitated.

Throw your heart over!

But hers wouldn't go, and neither would mine. Our hearts were wound together liked trapped insects in a spider's web.

She stopped short in front of the hedge. I slid off, landing on my feet, and then collapsed to the ground, not sure if I'd fallen or given up.

“Winnie!” Catman came running up. “Man, I told Claire and Bart you'd freak out tonight! They gave me the go-ahead to spy. I knew you'd try something like this no matter how scared you were!”

I opened my mouth to deny being scared. But the lies had drained out of me, leaving me with nothing. I buried my head in my hands. Tears flowed with noisy sobs that wracked my whole body.

When I could get my breath again, I gazed up at Catman. “What's wrong with me? I'm afraid of that stupid hedge!”

Catman took off his glasses and shoved them into his pocket. “Finally.”

“Finally what?” I yelled.

“Finally you can admit it. That's cool.”

The fake confidence I'd tried to hold on to slipped away. Something would have to replace it. But for now, it was enough to break out of the web with the truth. I'd been afraid to jump that hedge.

Catman took off Beauty's saddle and bridle. Beauty went back to grazing with Towaco and Nickers, and Catman walked me to the door.

“Thanks, Catman.” It didn't seem like much to say.

He held up thumb and pinkie in the Hawaiian hang-loose sign and disappeared into the night.

I crawled into bed and talked to God.
Sorry about the stupid lies, God. You don't deserve that. Please forgive me. I'm done with lies and fake confi- dence. I'm out of ideas on how to save Beauty or get over that hedge by tomorrow. But I know you're in the boat with me. So thanks.

I felt a hundred times better as I crawled under the quilt, even though I knew there was still a piece missing, something I wasn't getting. No way did I want to psyche up a false confidence again. But if I wanted to save Beauty, wouldn't I need some kind of confidence? I tried to figure it out as sleep pressed against my eyeballs.

I'd almost drifted into sleep when I remembered the debate
. And God, would you cover for me in that debate, too? Amen.

Saturday morning I woke up from the best night's sleep I'd had in days. I had no idea how things would turn out—with the Howards or the debate. But I knew I wasn't in it alone.

I couldn't wait to tell Lizzy how sorry I was for shutting her out and lying to her about everything. But she'd already left on a lizard hunt. I showered, dressed, and ran outside to find Dad.

He was speed-rocking in his latest invention, but the little fan at the top barely turned.

“Dad!” I shouted.

The rocking slowed, then stopped. Sweat trickled down his neck.

“Dad, I'm sorry about last night. And the other nights. I should have told you about the hedge. I just didn't want to admit I lost my confidence.”

“I know.” He looked straight into my eyes, and I could almost feel his forgiveness.

“Last night I—”

But Dad interrupted. “Isn't this rocker-powered chair a hoot, Winnie?”

“What?” Even now, Dad couldn't stop talking about his inventions?

“I've been rocking with all my power, not even getting a tiny wind to help cool me off.” He leaned back in the chair, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Now will you look at this?” He closed his eyes. “God sends me a perfect breeze without even trying.”

“Dad, will you listen a—?” I shut my mouth.
God sends the breeze without even trying?

“That's it! Dad, you're a genius!” My dad had just given me the missing piece to my confidence puzzle. And I was sure he had no idea that I needed it! Maybe
I
couldn't lick that hedge, but God could!

Weird that admitting I couldn't jump that hedge without God's help should make me feel more self-confident than I'd ever felt in my whole life, but it did.

I kissed Dad's forehead and took off for Pat's Pets on the back bike. I let myself in with the key Pat leaves in the flowerpot in case we have to man the help line after hours. I wanted to e-mail Hawk before she got home from Paris. They were flying in today. She'd been honest with me about being afraid to talk to her parents, and all I'd done was try to give her fake confidence.

As I waited for the computer to boot, I prayed that Hawk would check her e-mail on the plane. Then I typed:

Hawk!

URGENT! Truth is, I haven't been doing well with Bold Beauty. I fell off trying to get her over the high-jump hedge. Until last night, I'd faked it, pretending I still had my old confidence. But I don't, Hawk. So don't feel so bad about being scared to talk to your parents.

I tried to think how to say the rest. Hawk and I had never talked about God. She didn't go to church. Our friendship was fragile enough without having her think I'd turned into a Jesus freak on her. On the other hand, how could I stop being honest now?

I finished my note:

I don't know what you think about God and Jesus, Hawk. And I don't know as much about God as Lizzy and Pat and Barker do. But I do know that's where I'm going to get my confidence. My mom used to say that when we come to the end of ourselves, we come to the beginning of God. That's where I am with Beauty, Hawk. Hope you're reading this.

—Winnie

“I reckon that's about the best answer I've ever read on the help line.”

I twirled around to see Pat Haven, still dressed in a flannel nightgown, her hair looking like she'd just survived an electrical shock.

“Pat! I'm sorry about everything. I should have told you. I fell off Bold Beauty. I haven't gotten her over that hedge even once.”

“Well, duh. You think I'm dumber than a duck, no offense? Love those little creatures. I figured you'd tell me when you got around to it.”

I stood up and hugged her. “Pat, pray for me. The Howards are coming for Bold Beauty. I want the chance to face that hedge knowing what I know now.”

“Then scoot!” Pat nearly shoved me out the door. “And don't forget our debate tonight!”

When I biked into our yard, Lizzy was standing with Dad, while Catman was taking his turn in the rocker. She handed me her can of pop.

“Thanks, Lizzy.” I took a big drink. “And I'm sorry for not—”

She cut me off with a shake of her head. “It's okay. Catman filled us in. But Richard called, Winnie. They're on their way here. Are you going to be okay?”