Crown Prince (29 page)

Sarah's voice was low and measured when she spoke. “Rita, I want to talk to you.”

Rita's head snapped up in surprise. She glared out through the bars before stepping away from her horse and into the aisle, sliding the stall door shut behind her. She approached Sarah with deliberate steps, her face twisted in a sneer.

“I have a thing or two to say to you, too, little Miss Perfect, Miss Goody-Goody,” Rita began. Her voice was cold as ice, and her words came in short, clipped bursts. “Everything was fine until your horse came on the scene. You think Jack and everyone else should be catering to you every minute.”

But Sarah cut her off, her hands clenched into fists. “Shut up, Rita!” she snapped. “I think it's time you did some listening for a change. You were an idiot today, driving way too fast on the farm road, and because of you, Taco is dead!” Rita looked surprised in the face of Sarah's outburst. But Sarah hadn't finished. For too long she had listened to this spoiled brat without speaking up. But no more. She strode toward Rita, pointing a finger in her face.

“You act as if you own the world, and you think everything should revolve around you! You can't stand it when anyone pays attention to my horse. You can't stand it that I even
have
a horse!”

Rita had backed up against the bars of Chancellor's stall, and for perhaps the first time since Sarah had met her, she looked intimidated. Rita struck back. “You've got some nerve, freaking out and talking to me like this,” she hissed. “You still ride a bicycle. What do you know about driving a car? It was an accident. It's not my fault that a dumb dog didn't know enough to stay out of the road when a car was coming!” she said, glaring.

Sarah hadn't thought she could get any angrier, but now she was so mad her hands were shaking. “You can't even take responsibility for what you've done! You're out of control. I know what you were planning today. You drove toward the riding ring with your pedal to the floor because you wanted my horse to explode in front of my parents, so I would lose him. Nothing would make you happier.” Sarah stopped and breathed in audibly. She was close enough to see the green of Rita's eyes flashing at her from beneath her thick dark brows.

Sarah's words came again in clipped bursts. “Your father gives you everything you want. You could have a dozen horses if you wanted them. But you hate that I have just one. And now you've killed Taco! I don't know how you'll be able to look at yourself in the mirror.”

This time Rita had no reply. It was as if Sarah's words had finally penetrated her stony expression, and the façade she had always managed to throw up was crumbling. Rita attempted to snap back at Sarah, but her voice broke. She turned to face the stall, and Sarah saw small tremors through the girl's shoulders as she wept quietly. Rita had broken. Sarah stepped back, her arms limp at her sides. Her wrath was spent, and she suddenly felt incredibly tired, like she imagined a marathon runner must feel at the end of a race. Rita slowly turned to face her, as she brought her tears under control.

“You say I can have anything I want,” she said, her voice quavering, “but there's one thing no one can give me. I'll never have my mother back.” She bit her lip as she reached up to wipe her eyes.
“You
have your mother, but
my
mother died. I never knew her.
Your mother
survived her car accident.
My mother
didn't make it. The only thing I have is her name. There are no memories.” She slumped as if all the air had gone out of her, leaning back heavily on Chancellor's stall door. “It isn't fair,” she choked out.

Rita's words hit Sarah like a rushing wind. She was stunned. She had never even considered this vast difference between them. The girl who always seemed so confident was actually covering up a huge vulnerability, and all the material possessions she flaunted were an effort to fill a void. She'd never known her own mother. Sarah didn't know what to say.

Rita flung her hair out of her face with a toss of her head and continued. “My dad tries to make it up to me, and you're right—he gives me everything I ask for. He never says no.” She struggled as she began to break down again. “But sometimes I wish he would. He lets me do anything I want. And today….” Rita's body shook, the tears coming anew. “I didn't mean to hit Taco. I don't know what came over me. When I saw you on your horse so close to the road, I just gunned it. I was going to lay on the horn when I got close to you.” She reached to again wipe the tears from her face. “You are right. I
am
a horrible person.”

For what seemed an eternity, the two girls stood in silence, staring at each other. Sarah's voice was low when finally she spoke. “You need to talk to Mrs. DeWitt. You need to tell her you're sorry.”

Rita shook her head. “She probably never wants to see me again.”

“It's something you've got to do,” Sarah said. “It's important. Wouldn't your father want you to apologize?” As Rita looked unconvinced, Sarah stepped closer. “Rita—your mother would want you to.”

Rita hesitated. “I won't know what to say to Mrs. DeWitt.”

“Tell her what you've told me. The DeWitts must be home by now. Come on. Do it now. I'll go with you.”

Sarah took a few steps toward the side door, tugging on Rita's arm until she reluctantly followed. Together they stepped outside and started up the gravel driveway toward the DeWitt's farmhouse. A few minutes later, they turned the corner and the house came into full view. Only Mr. DeWitt's Blazer was parked outside, and the place was quiet. There were no barking Jack Russells to rush toward them. When they reached the terrace and Mrs. DeWitt's flower garden, Rita stopped. She looked ahead to the front door.

“I don't know if I can do this.”

Sarah stepped closer to look into Rita's eyes. “You have to. Come on.”

The house appeared deserted as they moved past the geranium-filled urns and started up the broad porch steps. When they got to the top, Sarah pointed to some wicker rocking chairs and a bench. “Wait here,” she said.

An eerie quiet hung over the place as Sarah approached the doorway, the stillness broken only by a lone nuthatch in the nearby woods. She pressed the bell on the door decorated with a large hydrangea wreath. A few moments later, Mr. DeWitt appeared. His face mirrored the sorrow they all felt, as he looked beyond Sarah to Rita sitting on the bench. His gaze came back to Sarah.

“Mr. DeWitt,” Sarah began. “I hope you don't mind our coming here now.” She found herself fishing for the right words. “I mean, you and Mrs. DeWitt must feel so bad about what happened to Taco. But I wonder if Rita and I could speak with her for a minute. That is, if she feels like she can see us.”

“I really don't know if she's able to talk to anyone right now,” Mr. DeWitt said. He hesitated a moment. “But I'll see.” He walked back down the hall and into a side room. Several minutes elapsed, and Sarah was about to retreat when Mrs. DeWitt came to the door. She had changed into a pink robe, and her eyes were red and puffy. Her face was uncharacteristically somber, with no trace of her usual warmth and smile.

“Hello, Sarah. It's kind of you to come here in person to let Chandler and me know you share our sadness. I know you loved Taco, too.”

“He was such a special little dog. I'm going to miss him a lot, but of course not as much as you will.”

Mrs. DeWitt brought a handkerchief to her nose and blew loudly. “You're very sweet, dear, to be so considerate.” She looked beyond Sarah and noticed Rita sitting on the bench. “Rita, is that you?” she asked, her voice registering surprise.

Rita hung her head, not able to meet the woman's gaze. Mrs. DeWitt paused a moment before pushing the screen door open and stepping onto the porch. She walked slowly to one of the wicker rockers and sat down, motioning for Sarah to sit as well. There was an awkward silence until Rita raised her head to look directly at Mrs. DeWitt.

“I know I acted like a total jerk today, Mrs. DeWitt. There's no excuse for my driving so fast on the farm road. It's my fault that Taco got hit, and I want you to know that I'm really, really sorry.” Rita lowered her head and covered her face with her hands.

“What was going on, Rita?” Mrs. DeWitt asked in a low even voice. “Why were you driving so recklessly? If Gus hadn't gotten there in time, this accident could have been far worse, with consequences that would have changed our lives forever. I can only be thankful my granddaughter is okay. But you put her—us—in very real danger.”

Rita looked directly at Mrs. DeWitt and slowly, her own sadness stumbled out. When she had finished, she again lowered her head. Mrs. DeWitt turned away to gaze over the sweeping lawn into the woodlands. Finally she rose from her chair and went to sit beside Rita. She looked at her pointedly. “If it hadn't been for Gus's fast and calculated action, we might be mourning Grace and Pretty Penny right now as well as Taco. Gus is the hero who saved them both. I realize you have your own pain to overcome, but causing others pain is not the answer.”

Rita looked into Mrs. DeWitt's sad blue eyes. In a broken voice, she said, “I don't know if you can understand. My father lets me off the hook all the time. With him, anything goes. I boss Judson and our housekeeper around, and I even got into trouble at school for arguing with the teachers. My dad's the greatest, but sometimes I wish he'd draw the line. I sometimes feel so out of control.”

Mrs. DeWitt shook her head. “Rita, you can't blame your behavior on your father.
You
were driving that car today, no one else.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “Have you learned anything from what happened today?”

Rita took a deep breath as she looked up at the porch ceiling and then back at Mrs. DeWitt. “I guess when you do something stupid like I did, bad stuff can go down.”

“Ah, yes,” Mrs. DeWitt said. “Those unintended consequences when you break the rules. There's a reason why Chandler put up those speed limit signs on the road.”

Sarah sat quietly, her eyes glued to the porch floor. She felt uncomfortable being there, listening to such a private conversation. But she was rooted to her chair.

Mrs. DeWitt continued. “It's obvious you're carrying a lot of anger, Rita, and that anger makes you act irresponsibly. Losing your mother when you were just a baby was a terrible thing. Life can be so unfair. But now you need to find a way to deal with your anger. Lashing out at others never solves anything.” Rita didn't answer, but sat looking off into the distance.

“This needs to be addressed, Rita,” Mrs. DeWitt continued. “I feel you would benefit greatly from sessions with a trained counselor. But first your father needs to know that your unsafe driving caused a dreadful accident, and he needs to know why.”

Mrs. DeWitt rose from the bench. “I'm going back in the house now,” she said. “But before I do, I need to be open with you, Rita. Up until a few minutes ago, I was considering asking you to sever your ties with Brookmeade Farm. The way you drove your car today makes you a menace. But I'm glad you made this visit and offered an apology and an explanation. Will you promise me you'll be open and honest with your father?”

Rita looked serious. “Yes, I promise,” she said, “even though this may be one time when he lays down the law. He'll probably take my keys away, and I'll be totally grounded. But I'll tell him everything.”

“Good. And there's something else that needs to change—your attitude. We need to see a different Rita at Brookmeade Farm, one who doesn't need to be better than her friends, and a Rita who is considerate of others.”

Both girls stood up, preparing to leave. Mrs. DeWitt walked over to Sarah and gave her a hug. “I suspect you had a role in this meeting,” she said quietly in her ear, “and I appreciate it.” Then she returned to Rita and hugged her as well before going back into the house. Rita looked surprised.

The girls started down the porch steps and onto the gravel driveway. They walked without speaking until Sarah said, “Don't you feel better, Rita? Aren't you glad you did it?”

Rita kicked a stone out of her path. “I didn't have a choice.”

SARAH PAUSED A MOMENT
before leading Crown Prince into the indoor arena. For weeks she had longed for this day, when Prince's trial period would be over and he would be pronounced hers for good. Now that the thirty days were up, she was going to demonstrate to her parents that Prince was sane, well mannered, and most of all
safe.
She was eager to show them how well he was going under saddle, but with so much at stake, she couldn't help feeling anxious.

As they entered the arena, she was taken aback by the number of people seated on the bleachers. So many people had taken an interest in Crown Prince! She wasn't aware that Mrs. DeWitt had spent some time on the phone calling the Brookmeade boarders and staff. It was expected that her parents, Abby, and the DeWitts would be here, and she wasn't surprised to see Kayla and her mom sitting in the top row. She wasn't totally surprised to see Paige and Tim, since they'd ridden earlier in the afternoon, but Tim's parents and Paige's grandmother were also with them. Kathleen and Lindsay were sitting with Gus, and even Kelly and Nicole were on the bottom row with a few other boarders. Standing by the side of the bleachers, of course, was Jack.

But no Rita. With the rest of the class in attendance, she was almost conspicuous by her absence. But then, true to her prediction, Rita's father had grounded her and taken her car away when he'd learned of her behavior and the events at the farm. Judson had come the day after Taco's death to take Chancellor back home, and for the last few weeks, Rita's only visits to Brookmeade were with her horse for her weekly lessons with Jack's Young Riders.