High Hurdles (36 page)

“Back to work, big fella.” She spoke to cover the lump that blossomed in her throat.

Lights on meant Lindy was home. DJ pedaled faster and parked her bike in the garage, then closed the automatic door. “Hey, Mom?”

No answer. The kitchen wore a half-clean look, and the family room could stand a clutter check. DJ reminded herself to turn on the sprinklers. Then she ambled up the stairs. A glance in her mother’s bedroom told the story. Lindy lay with a cloth over her eyes—a sure sign of a migraine headache.

DJ tiptoed to the edge of the bed. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks.” Lindy spoke without moving her lips.

DJ knew then that it was a bad one. She sighed and reached over to unplug the phone.

“Robert has something to show us. He’ll be here Saturday morning about ten.”

“I won’t be here. I’ve got that jumping clinic up in Napa. I told you about it.”

“Oh.”

DJ hoped her mother would let it go at that.

“Call him, then, so we can make other arrangements.”

“Sure.” DJ took a deep breath of relief. “I’ll check on you later in case you want some soup or something.”

“Thank you.”

DJ closed the door gently and made her way downstairs. After slicing a piece of cheese, she dialed Robert’s number. “Hi, Mom said to call you. I’m going to that jumping clinic in Napa on Saturday, so we—or at least, I—won’t be here.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re going. Decided to take money out for it, huh?”

“Well, no. Joe paid for both me and him.”
And please don’t tell my mother,
she wanted to say, but then . . . things were becoming a tangled mess.

“Oh, okay. How about Sunday after church? The boys and I could go to your church, and then we’ll have brunch out before I show you the surprise.”

“Ah . . . well . . . you know my mom doesn’t like surprises. I think I take after her.”

“Well, I think she’ll like this one—at least I hope so. Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow. Oh, DJ, does she get headaches like this very often?”

DJ thought a moment. “Maybe once a month or so. I guess I never paid much attention to how often.” After hanging up the phone, she thought about the surprise Robert had in store. He sure sounded excited. She hoped her mother would like it.

She’d just finished making tomato soup and a grilled-cheese sandwich when the phone rang.

It was Gran. “DJ, I have a problem,” she began. “I need some horses for a new book I’m working on, and your horses are usually better than mine. How about drawing some for me, then I’ll paint them in?”

“Sure, but when do you need them?”

“Yesterday. I took this project knowing it would be a tight deadline. The artist they originally hired took sick, and they need it as soon as I can get it to them.”

“I could come over each night after I work at the Academy.” Without touching the floor, or at least it seemed that way, DJ danced across the room after hanging up the phone. She was going to help Gran out. Her horses would be in a children’s book! If only she could call Amy, but it was too late.

She took her tomato soup and grilled-cheese sandwich up to her room so she could look through her sketches. Maybe one or some of them might work. Or maybe she could make them work.

The house was still a mess when she came down in the morning. She’d planned to straighten up, but she’d gotten so involved in the drawings, she’d gone to bed late. A horn honked from the drive. Amy was already here. She’d have to take time to do it before she headed for the Academy.

The light was blinking on the machine. That would wait, too. Out the door she flew.

DJ’s art teacher stopped her before she left class.

“I was really pleased to see you got that honorable mention at the art show. Have you thought of taking some extra art classes after school or on the weekends? You have real talent.”

“Thank you, but all my time is taken up at the Academy where I work and stable my horse. I really don’t have any spare time right now.” DJ fidgeted from one foot to another. Mrs. Yamamoto was waiting for her.

“I think horses are great, but art classes could make a difference in what you choose to do with the rest of your life. Why don’t you have your mother give me a call?”

“Sure, thanks. I’m late for my ride.” DJ took the slip of paper and dashed off to her locker. She had so much to do, and now she was already late.

She listened to the waiting message while she got out peanut butter and jelly for a sandwich.

“DJ, you left the sprinklers on all night. You know what that will do to our water bill?”

DJ groaned. And she didn’t have time to do her chores, either. She threw the dishes into the dishwasher, then grabbed the books, crayons, and paper in the family room and stuffed them under a cushion—the rest would have to wait. Out the door. Back inside. Upstairs to get her drawings for Gran. Out the door. Back inside. She needed a sweat shirt. The clouds were already edging the tops of the Briones hills.

“You’re late,” Amy scolded.

“Don’t I know it.” The girls pedaled as though they were in a race.

Joe met her at the tack room. “DJ, was Major limping last night?”

“No, why?”

“There’s some swelling in his right front leg. I’ve been icing it, but you better not ride him for a few days. He must have pulled a muscle.”

DJ felt her stomach thud down to her ankles. What had she done now?

Chapter
•
11

DJ charged out to Major’s stall. “Hey, fella, what’s happening with you?” She ran her hand down his leg. Sure enough—hot to the touch and puffy. “Do you think we need to call the vet?”

“No. I have some liniment, and with that and the ice, he’ll be fine,” Joe said.

“You’re sure? Did Bridget see him yet? Oh, Major, I’m so sorry.” The horse snuffled DJ’s hair and searched her pockets for treats. He blew in her face when he found nothing. “Sorry, no time to stop for cookies. Joe here scared the thought right out of me.”

“I’m afraid it means no jumping clinic on Saturday.”

“But what could have caused it? He didn’t hit a pole or anything.”

“Did he stumble?”

“Not that I can think of.” DJ squatted down to inspect the swelling again. She ran gentle hands over the area. “Joe, I wouldn’t hurt him for anything.”

“I know. These things happen. Maybe he just figures he needs a rest. It’s not your fault.”

“I should have checked him more carefully when I put him away. Didn’t I cool him down enough? Is that it?”

Joe lifted her up and set her on her feet. “DJ, look at me. Watch my mouth move. It is not, I repeat—
not
—your fault. No matter how hard you try, you can’t take care of the entire world. Or take responsibility for it, for that matter. Now, go about your chores and we’ll leave early for a scrumptious dinner. You earned a break as much as Major did.”

“A break? Could it be a stress fracture?”

“Help!” Joe shook his head. “I won’t even dignify that with an answer. I’ll see you in a while. You go practice concentration with your students and Patches.”

“But I . . .”

“Go.”

“Maybe I should spend the night here so I can ice him again.”

“Go.”

DJ started to follow his instructions and stopped. “If you talk to Bridget right away, maybe you can get your money back for the clinic on Saturday. Or you
could
go without me.”

“No chance. I’ll talk to her—now get.”

DJ managed to check on Major three times over the afternoon, and each time the leg looked the same. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of the liniment. The last time, Joe had applied the ice boot again, and Major looked as though he wore a padded sleeve over his leg.

The big horse stood contentedly munching his evening ration of grain and hay. She gave him another hug and a kiss on the soft skin of his nose.

“See you tomorrow. You be good now.” She turned to Joe. “Maybe I should—”

“Get in the truck. Gran is waiting dinner on us.”

DJ and Gran lost themselves in planning the horse drawings for the book. They didn’t even look up when the phone rang.

“DJ, it’s for you.” Joe held out the receiver.

“Oh no.” DJ knew she was in trouble. “I forgot to leave a message for Mom about where I’d be.” She held the phone away from her ear to soften the cutting tones of her mother’s voice. “But, Mom—” She couldn’t get a word in edgewise as she was reminded again about how irresponsible it was to leave the water running all night.

Joe stood when she hung up. “I’ll take you home.”

“I’d rather stay here.” DJ could feel her anger burning as fast as a fire built with dry kindling. “It’s just not fair. No matter how hard I try, it’s never good enough. Gran, I miss you so much.” She dropped to her knees by her grandmother’s chair and laid her head in the soft lap.

“I know, darlin’. But you and your mom have been doing pretty well lately.” Gran stroked the wisps of hair back from DJ’s forehead.

“Yeah, we get along really well when we never see each other.” DJ could feel the anger dwindling with each stroke of her grandmother’s hand.

“Lindy will do better once her thesis subject is approved. She’s worked long and hard for this degree. It means a lot to her.”

“More than I do.”

“No, that’s not true. I know you feel that way sometimes, and I understand. But your mother loves you—she just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Yeah, well, yelling at me sure doesn’t cut it.” DJ looked at the folder of drawings resting on the table. “I better get home. I didn’t get my homework done, either, so I hope she doesn’t ask.”

“That’s my fault. We were having too good a time.” Gran dropped a kiss on DJ’s hair. “I’ll tell her we need to do this all week. She’ll understand—she was just worried about you.”

“Where else would I be?” DJ got to her feet. “Thanks for dinner. Sorry I didn’t help with the dishes.”

“Oh, that’s nothing. Our art was far more important.” Gran walked DJ and Joe to the door. “I can always do the dishes.”

“Or I can.” Joe winked at DJ. “I
do
do dishes, you know.”

Lindy was on the phone by the time DJ walked in. She could tell Robert was on the other end by the soft sound of Lindy’s voice, not at all like the one she’d used to call DJ.

“Night, Mom.” DJ waved and got a nod back. Too tired to do any homework, she crawled into bed and fell asleep on the
a
of amen.

Because she couldn’t train Major, DJ had extra time that week to work on the drawings Gran needed. Each night they sketched, erased, and finally transferred the illustrations to stretched canvas so Gran could paint them. DJ particularly loved one they’d done of a young foal with furry ears and a brush of a mane.

Lindy left a message that they’d be going with Robert to see the surprise on Saturday since DJ didn’t have the clinic.

DJ was spending Friday night at Gran’s, and the two of them were working in the studio. “Why can’t Mom ask me about
my
schedule before she plans things for
us
to do? Joe said I can ride Major again tomorrow, but only at a walk. He did fine on the lunge line tonight.”

DJ studied the horse’s head they were pairing with that of the little girl who was the heroine in the story. It made an attractive logo. If this book did well, the publisher was considering turning it into a series. “I really like this. I wish I could draw people as good as you do.”

“And I wish my horses had as much life as yours.” Gran held up the last drawing. “You have a real gift, darlin’.”

“Well, I got it from you. Did I tell you my teacher said I should take art lessons?”

“No. That’s exciting news.”

“I said no. I don’t have time right now.” At the sad look on Gran’s face, DJ added, “You know riding is more important to me than anything. I just can’t do one more thing. If I mess up again, Mom will ground me forever.”

“Just remember, if you decide you might like to take art classes, the money will be there.”

Joe looked up from the book he was reading. “The same goes for riding clinics, shows, and riding lessons should you need training beyond what Bridget can offer you.”

DJ blinked a couple of times to dry her eyes. “Thanks. You two are the best.”

Gran turned back to the drawings spread across the table. She lifted one of a month-old colt. “I think this one needs some work on that off hind leg, then we can use him for page eight. What do you think?”

DJ picked up her art-gum eraser. “You’re right. The ears need some work, too.” The quiet of concentration came to rest on the room.

Some time later, the phone rang.

“It’s for you, DJ.” Joe held out the receiver. “Your mother,” he mouthed.

“I just wanted to remind you to be back home and cleaned up by eleven tomorrow.”

“I know.” DJ held the phone away from her face and stared at the receiver, shaking her head. “She hung up. She must still be upset.” DJ returned to the table.
That I can do without
. She could feel the resentment bubble.
Who needs her?

She caught the look that passed between Joe and Gran.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

“Robert wants it to be a surprise. We won’t spoil it for him.” Gran shook her head when DJ started to interrupt. “Nope, I won’t even give you a hint.”

“Ah, come on, Gran.” DJ put her best wheedle into her voice.

“No way.”

DJ hurried through Saturday morning chores so she had plenty of time to walk Major around the soft sand of the arena.

“You act as if you never had a problem at all,” she said, leaning forward to stroke his neck. Major moved smoothly beneath her, not favoring the injured leg in the least. DJ thought about the clinic going on up in Napa. Both Tony and Hilary had gone up for it, along with a couple of the adults who stabled their horses and rode at the Academy.

The sun was breaking out of the early morning fog, and DJ lifted her face to its warmth. “I’d rather be riding up in the hills, wouldn’t you?” Major snorted and lifted his feet a bit higher, as if hoping she would relent and let him trot.

“Sure would.” Joe rode up beside her. Ranger didn’t appreciate walking any more than Major.

“Then let’s. The trail wouldn’t be too hard and . . .”

“And you have to be ready at eleven. You know that if we got started, we wouldn’t want to turn back.”

“I know. Am I gonna like the surprise?” DJ clutched her reins, willing herself to remain calm. She deliberately loosened her fingers and relaxed her wrists. With the release of a deep breath, she turned her head to look at her grandfather.

“I hope so, DJ, I surely hope so.”

DJ kept his words in mind as she put Major away and climbed onto her bike to ride home.

Robert and the boys were already there. “No, you’re not late,” he reassured her when she glanced at her watch. “We’re early.”

“DJ, we’s gonna see—” Robert clapped his hands over both twins’ mouths.

“Remember, this is a secret. A surprise.” Robert squatted down so he was on eye level with the bouncing Bs. “You promised not to tell.”

They both nodded, blue eyes bright above his fingers. When he removed his hands, they flung themselves at DJ’s legs.

She bent down to hug them. How could anyone resist the adoration shining in their faces? “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” She headed for the stairs. When they started to follow her, she sent a pleading look at Robert.

“Come on, guys, we’ll wait here while DJ dresses. She’s not used to an audience.”

“We can help.”

“I’m sure you can, but we’ll read a story instead while we wait.” Robert took them by the hands and over to the sofa.

DJ fled up the stairs as they clamored for their favorite story. Strange, her mother wasn’t downstairs pacing the floor, making noises like DJ should hurry. Did Lindy know what the surprise was? Was she unhappy about it? Questions, questions.

Robert herded the boys to the car as soon as DJ leaped down the stairs. She looked at her mother but saw nothing other than a gracious smile on her face. The headache lines were gone. With the boys buckled into their seat belts, DJ sat back and tried to unwind. She knew she could get the twins to tell her about the surprise, but that wouldn’t be fair. Robert wanted to surprise them.

He stopped at the stop sign and turned right, the same way DJ rode every day to the Academy. They drove past the Academy, then passed Gran and Joe’s. DJ looked down to see the Double Bs with their hands clapped over their mouths. What was going on?

A quarter of a mile beyond Gran’s house, Robert turned into a tree-shaded driveway. They stopped beside a white house with brick halfway up the front and friendly windows.