Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (43 page)

“Some of the kids told me that my horse is being adopted this week, Grandma. I tried and tried with Dad but you know how stubborn he is,” she said, throwing a stuffed animal across the room.

Devon poked his head in and Milla rolled onto her side facing away from him. “You okay, Mil?” he asked.

“What do you think?” she mumbled, not really wanting to look at him. He walked into the room and sat down on the bed, drying his hands on a small checkered dishtowel. Milla stiffened; she didn’t want any contact with him. She was too angry and she knew he would do what he always did when he found her crying. He would ask her if she wanted to watch TV with him. “Look at me, Mil, I want to talk to you,” he said. She rolled over, fighting back tears.

“I don’t want to watch stupid TV with you, Dad,” she said frowning.

“That’s not what I was going to say. Simmer down and give me a chance, will you? Look, I realize you got your hopes up about that little horse and now you’re disappointed, but honestly, Milla, I just don’t have the time to take care of a horse right now. Can’t you see that?”

“But, Dad, I told you I would take care of her. I’m really good with horses. Ask Mrs. Burke or Aunt Sue, or call any of my teachers and they’ll tell you. I know how to clean stalls, brush them, and all kinds of stuff like that.”

“Do you know how to drive a car back and forth to the barn? Can you pay for the veterinarian bills or her food? Do you have any idea how much it would cost to keep her at a stable?”

“No, but that’s why I need you to help. You’re my dad. Geez, I don’t have anyone else I can ask,” she said, looking away from him.

“I understand, Milla.” Her rubbed her shoulder that shook as she sobbed into her pillow. “I have so many horses that need homes, Milla. Every day a new horse is brought to me. They are young and old and they come in all different colors and every one of them needs to be adopted.”

Milla rolled over and looked at her father. He handed her a box of tissues as she propped herself up against the headboard. “What does that have to do with Hope?” she asked, blowing her nose.

“You found a baby horse that lost her mom and now you want to keep it. I wish we could; honestly, Milla, I wish we could. I guess after having so many horses just like your little palomino I’m just not able to look at it the same way you do. Try to imagine all of those horses I have to find homes for. That’s my job, day in and day out, and I don’t want to come home to take care of another one.”

“But…”

“Let me finish,” he continued. “I think you’re just feeling sorry for yourself. To be quite honest, loads of kids wish they had it as good as you do.”

Milla’s face grew red as she held back her biting thoughts. “Take a good look around, Milla.” Devon waved his arm, pointing to her bedroom walls. Every day you come home with another painting or drawing you made in camp. Some kids can’t even afford camp, let alone a horse and art camp. Look at your hands. That’s right, show me your hands.”

Milla gritted her teeth and stuck out her hands in anger. “What about them, Dad?”

“Look at those blisters. You sit here and cry about one horse and you’re forgetting about all the ones that need your care. Heck, you’re going to have two horses to ride at Sue’s place. Those blisters, Milla—those are what you get when you work for something. Look at all of these paintings and drawings. What do you see? Look close, Milla, what do you see?”

“I see horses, Dad, okay? That’s what I do at camp. I paint and draw horses.”

“Exactly. Don’t you see that you get to enjoy the very thing you love—art and horses? You’re working at Sue’s
and
you get to do your artwork. Heck, Sue’s as good an artist as your grandmother. What more could you want?” he asked, shaking his head.

“But I want Hope,” Milla whined, “and Mrs. Burke will let her go to someone else if I don’t adopt her.”

“You are so stubborn. You aren’t even listening to me.”

“Why do I always feel like you think of me as a little girl, Dad? I’m getting older and I think I’m ready for a horse now. I’m not a little kid anymore!”

“I know you’re growing up, but you’ll always be my little girl,” he said.

“But I’m old enough to have my own horse
now
, Dad! Can’t you see that?”

“No, it’s not the time yet. Maybe one day you will have your own horse, but not yet,” he said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Milla hung her head down, watching a few tears drip onto her pillow. “Can’t you just ask Aunt Sue and Mrs. Burke about how responsible I am? If they tell you I’m ready now, can we at least talk about it?” she begged.

Devon laughed. “Oh, so you want to negotiate, huh?” Glancing at the photo of his mother sitting on Milla’s dresser, he picked it up and brushed his fingers against the suede frame. “I love this photo of her,” he said.

“I miss her so much, Dad.”

“Yeah, me, too. I wonder what she would make of all this family stuff with Sue?”

“I think she would be thrilled, and I think she would tell you to let me get a horse now!”

“Oh, yeah? You’re probably right. I can still hear her: Devon, you know how special she is. Don’t ever forget that.” He looked over at Milla, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed. She was so much like his late wife, Valorie, with her unstoppable determination. Oh, how he missed her. He walked over and tugged Milla’s hands and pulled her into a hug. Who could tell when she would be ready for a horse of her own? He thought of his mother’s words, “She’s special, just like you. Treat her with respect.”

“How about if I ask your Aunt Sue to keep an eye on you? Can we both agree that we’ll let her decide the time? I want this to work, Mil. If you’re not able to do this I’ll just end up with another horse I’ll have to find a home for.”

“You mean she’ll be able to tell if I’m ready by watching me work with 7-Up and Penny?”

“Yeah, she’ll know before anyone else does. I’ll have to ask her if she wants to be a part of this decision and all, but if she agrees, do we have a deal?”

Milla thought about Aunt Sue and how much she reminded her of Grandma. She thought of how she helped her with her artwork, the way she communicated with horses with her gentle touch. Hope would probably go to another kid and move far away. She felt a lump in her throat as she thought about the day she would go to camp and Hope would no longer be waiting for her. Could she love another horse? What good was making a deal if Hope was not a part of the plan?

“Dad, is there a way we can adopt Hope now and I can work at Aunt Sue’s and prove I can do this?” she asked.

“No, I can’t see us adopting Hope right now,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not sure I want a different horse, Dad. If I work at Aunt Sue’s and do a good job, the only horse I really want will be gone.”

Devon looked down at his little girl. She’s probably going to grow up to be a lawyer, he thought. This girl is always trying to work out a deal. “You know we’re goin’ around in circles here, kid. I already said no, you’re not ready. In the meantime, Anne Burke has to find homes for those foals, so the deal I put out there is the best I can offer.”

“But you have lots of horses that stay for months at the BLM. Mrs. Burke told me that technically Hope is a BLM horse since you brought her in.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what? Mrs. Burke taught us that all of the horses that came in from the BLM aren’t the property of the Rescue Center and that you had to approve all adoptions.”

Oh geez, Devon thought, what are they teaching our kids at that camp? “Well, even though that’s true, Mil, I still put that little foal in Anne’s care and she’s doing her best to find it a new home.”

“Yes, I get it, Dad, but actually Hope’s still BLM property.”

“You really have this all figured out, don’t you?” he said, pulling away. “I said no, Milla, and no means no.”

Milla bit her lip. He could save Hope and she knew it. But how? He was walking away and soon his mind would be on to other things and when he said no about something he never budged. “Dad, wait,” she said, walking over to him. “Don’t go, plee-ease.”

“I can’t sit here talking about horses all night, Milla. I’m tired and when I come home I don’t want to even think about them. I’m sorry but that’s just the way it is.”

Milla stood there not knowing what to say. It wasn’t often that her dad hugged her and it felt great, but she really needed him to understand. Tomorrow would be another dreaded day at Foot’s house and then camp. Maybe tomorrow would be her last day with Hope. How could she pretend it didn’t matter and just change the subject?

“You want to watch TV?” he asked.

Chapter 65

Carrie waited at their usual meeting spot by the picnic tables. Candy and Roxie were grazing nearby and off in the distance Eclipse and Dusky were swishing their tails. Where is Milla? she thought. I want to tell her about my mission. She saw some teachers coming out of Mrs. Burke’s office and watched them stop to greet the foals that ran over to them. I wonder where those little guys will end up? she wondered. Cookie, Suzie, and Cricket were racing around the paddock, kicking up their heels. Two smaller foals that had just been brought in were in a nearby pen. Carrie looked all around the property searching for the one horse she knew would be leaving soon. But she didn’t see the little golden palomino anywhere.

“Is Hope gone?” she said aloud. Candy and Roxie stopped and raised their heads. When they realized Carrie had no intention of offering them a treat they went back to grazing. She heard the familiar sound of the camp’s van as it wound its way down the long driveway. The burros ran to greet it and Eclipse and Dusky slowly began walking toward the gate. Behind the van came a few cars driven by parents. This is how it must look to the animals each morning, she thought—like a circus train carrying people to camp.

Carrie waved to her friends and waited for Milla. Kris and April walked over and sat down. “So did you hear the news?” Kris asked.

“No, what?” asked Carrie, looking past his shoulder at Milla, who had stopped to talk to Mac.

“One of those horse groups is working with Mrs. Burke. They’re taking some of the foals to rodeos and horse shows to help with adoptions.”

“Great,” Carrie said. “Which one?”

“My mom told me it’s the Save Our Mustangs group. She’s friends with some of the members.”

“Great? Did you say great?” April said in disgust. “I can’t believe you think it’s great, Carrie. Some of us are trying to adopt those little foals. We don’t think it’s so great and I bet your friend, Milla, doesn’t either.”

Milla walked over and set her backpack on the table. “Think what’s great?” Carrie wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t told Milla about her mission yet. She knew Milla wouldn’t be happy about the Save Our Mustangs group taking the foals away.

“Tell her,” April said. “Tell your friend Milla here how you think it’s great that Mrs. Burke is letting people take our foals out of the camp.” Milla opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. She picked up her backpack and started walking toward the foals that were standing in a huddle.

“Chill out, April. Geez,” Kris said. “These foals won’t live here forever. Weren’t you listening on our first day of camp? That’s why we’re here. We help to prepare the orphaned foals so that they can be adopted. Wild horses and tame horses aren’t the same.”

Well, yes they are, thought Carrie, thinking of the message the horse spirit had told her, but she said nothing. She felt horrible as she watched Milla walk from pen to pen looking for Hope.

“Yeah, I get that, Kris, but some of us are trying to adopt them and we should be allowed to have first pick. Now some stupid people will cart them off and they’ll all go to strangers. It’s not fair!” April said in a huff.

“Well, go ahead and adopt them then,” Kris said. “Go on, what’s stopping you? Did Mrs. Burke say you
can’t
adopt them?” April said nothing and looked away. Kris continued, “That’s what I thought, April. You’re not able to adopt one so you don’t want anyone else to have them.”

Carrie broke her silence. “I felt the same way, too, April. I tried and tried but my mom said we can’t afford it. I’m not happy about Cricket going to a new home, so I’m trying to think of a way we can help them. I’m starting to really understand what Mrs. Burke is teaching us.”

April was aghast. “You wanted Cricket, too? That’s the horse
I
wanted.”

Kris began to laugh. “Oh my gosh, don’t you see? Every kid wants to adopt them, April. There’s around seventy kids in this camp and less then ten foals over there.”

Milla came running to Carrie and yanked her sleeve, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, we gotta find her. I think she’s gone!” Milla raced toward Hope’s pen, scattering a cloud of dust behind her. Carrie tried to keep up with her friend. Oh no, she thought, not yet—Hope has to be around here somewhere. She wished she could just stop and tell her about the mission, but now wasn’t the time; Milla was way too upset.

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down, girls,” Jed hollered as he unloaded a truckful of hay. He placed the bale he was carrying onto the ground and shook himself off.

“We’re looking for Hope,” Milla said.

Jed stomped his feet trying to shake off the strands of hay clinging to his pants. “You two know better than to run around horses like a bunch of wild animals. I don’t know where Hope is, but you’re going to be late for class, so head on up to camp now, okay?” Some of the foals walked over to the girls and stuck their heads out, hoping for attention.