High Hurdles (57 page)

Chapter • 20

“Let me go down there to see him, Joe. Please!”

“No, darlin’, I can’t.”

Fury, burning, raging fury, made DJ shake. She bit her lip till she could taste blood. “He’s my horse.” With every ounce of control keeping her from plunging back down the hill to Major, she whispered it again. “Major is my horse.”

“And you’re my granddaughter.” As Joe swung aboard Ranger, DJ darted to the lip of the hill. An officer grabbed her around the middle and carried her kicking back to Ranger. With a shake of his head, Joe offered her a hand to swing up behind him. “DJ, I’ve been a policeman all my life, and I will 
always
 put a human life ahead of an animal’s. Even more so when I love that stubborn girl as much as life itself.”

DJ settled herself behind him and looked over her shoulder to see the younger officer that had gone down to check on Major standing with the others.

“Don’t worry, DJ,” the younger man called. “We’ll get him out in the morning when we can see to dig. He’s okay for the night.”

Unless the hill slides down over him
. She forced herself to call back, “Thank you.”

“DJ, I know you are absolutely furious with me, but that’s the way it is. Melanie is waiting at the staging parking lot. The rescue team might decide to take you in to the hospital for observation.”

I don’t think so
, DJ argued back inside her head. She refused to answer Joe. Somehow she had to get back up to Major.

They bundled her aboard the helicopter and wrapped her in more blankets. While she’d felt the warmth of the one, she still shook from the cold. Someone else handed her a mug of hot, sugared coffee.

“Sorry, we didn’t bring hot chocolate. Can you drink this?”

DJ nodded, but her teeth clanked on the cup rim when she put it to her mouth.

A television station van was set up in the parking lot—she could see it as they came in for a landing. Her mom and Robert were there, too.

DJ felt the tears burn behind her eyes. 
Don’t you dare cry
, she ordered herself. But that was easier said than done. When Gran, her mom, and Robert wrapped their arms around her, she couldn’t live up to her orders.

“Major is stuck in the mud, and it’s all my fault.” Deep, tearing sobs ripped through her. “If he dies, it’s all my fault.”

“How about if we check her over?” a young female emergency medical technician asked.

“I’m not going in any ambulance, and I’m 
not
 going to a hospital.”

“Darla Jean,” her mother said firmly, “you will do what is needed.”

“Can we ask you a couple of questions?” A tape recorder appeared in front of DJ’s face as if by magic. A reporter held the other end.

“How about I answer questions while the medical personnel attend to her.” Robert turned DJ over to the medical crew with one arm and the reporter away with the other.

The young woman sat DJ down on the rear edge of the ambulance and popped a thermometer in her mouth and a blood pressure cuff on her arm.

“I’m fine—just cold.” Talking with the thermometer in her mouth wasn’t easy, but DJ managed.

“Sure you are, kid. You want us to be out of a job? If we don’t check you out, my boss’ll yell at me. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

DJ glared at her.

Once the plastic thing was out of her mouth, DJ took in a deep breath. “Look, I’m not hurt. I ache all over, but what do you expect?”

“Your temp is subnormal, but not down to dangerous hypothermia levels. Pulse is fine, too. I guess you can go.”

“I told you so.”

“I know you did. Let’s just hope and pray your horse comes out in as good a condition as you.”

“Thanks.” DJ ran her tongue over her chewed lip. “Sorry I was a brat.”

“Don’t blame you a bit. Take care now.”

The ambulance and the TV van left at the same time. DJ climbed into Robert’s car with Gran on one side of her and Lindy on the other—they acted as if she needed guarding or something. Could they read her mind, trying a million ways of going back for Major?

Later after a long soak in the bathtub, and wearing sweats and her heavy bathrobe, DJ returned to the family room.

“How you doing, darlin’?” Gran brought a tray from the kitchen. She handed DJ the steaming mug of hot chocolate and offered coffee to the others.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“I put a bit of coffee in that.”

DJ knew Gran was trying make things right for her. Leave it to Gran, she could still read her granddaughter like a book. “Where’s Joe?”

Silence fell. The adults exchanged looks.

“Is Major all right?” Panic clawed at her middle again.

“DJ, Joe is camping right by Major. He said to tell you that you can go up there first thing in the morning.”

“He can but I couldn’t.”

“Well, he has a few more supplies than you did,” Lindy noted, the furrows obvious between her eyes. “And people there to help him if he needs it.”

“Face it, DJ—he couldn’t leave his old buddy up there alone any more than you could.” Robert raised his coffee mug in a salute. “That’s my dad.”

They started digging as soon as it was light, Joe told her later. It took four men two hours to dig around Major enough to slide a sling under his belly. DJ arrived when they were digging his legs free so the helicopter could airlift him out.

“Hey, big guy.” She threw her arms around his neck, kneeling in the mud in front of him. Major whuffled and nosed her pockets. “You knew I’d bring you something, didn’t you?” She looked over at Joe, who looked like he’d been sunk in the mud himself.

“He’s okay, darlin’.” His nod gave her as much assurance as his words.

“Th-thanks.” She opened a canteen she brought and gave Major a drink, then rationed the horse cookies she’d stuffed in her pockets. Another couple of hours passed, the sloppy mud slowing the digging. All through it, Major never floundered around or fought their efforts. He stood perfectly still, only quivering at times.

Joe finally ordered the helicopter to return. It hovered above them, the rotors drowning any talking. A hook descended on a cable, and the men worked together to hook it to the sling.

DJ kept up a running monologue in Major’s ear, stroking his neck and face to keep him calm.

“Okay!” Joe yelled, at the same time giving a signal to the man in the chopper door. “Tighten her up.”

“Oh, God, please make this work.” DJ held her breath as the sling tightened around Major’s belly. With a gigantic sucking, the horse’s legs came free, and he swung into the air. DJ dropped to the ground to keep from being hit by Major’s dripping, muddy legs as the chopper lifted the horse higher and higher. Major whinnied, but even then remained still, as if he understood the importance of not flailing around.

“That’s some horse,” Joe said, dropping a mud-caked arm over DJ’s shoulders.

“He’s some horse.” Brad Atwood stood by DJ as the helicopter gently set Major down in the parking lot at the Academy.

“Yeah, he is. Thanks for helping pay for the helicopter and all.”

“My pleasure. I couldn’t believe it when I heard your name on the news. You and that horse of yours are having your moments of fame.”

“I never thought much about the reporter there last night, but wow, they filmed the airlift and everything.” DJ stepped forward and took the lead shank from Joe, who’d helped hold Major while the crew unbuckled the sling. “Good fella.” She wrapped her arms around Major’s neck in spite of the caked-on mud. He nuzzled her pocket. “Bet you’re still starved. Thirsty, too, huh? That little sip you had was a long time ago.” He nudged her again till she handed him a whole horse cookie. She turned to see the television camera aimed right at them.

“You got anything you’d like to say?” the person filming asked.

“Yeah, thank you, God, for saving my miracle horse. And thanks to all those who worked so hard to get him loose, especially my grandpa Joe who spent the night in the mud with our horse.”

The man gave a thumbs-up sign and clicked off the camera.

DJ ran her hands down Major’s legs, checking for any strain. One front leg and one back leg felt hot. “Let’s get you fed and then washed down so we can doctor you, okay?”

Major nudged her and blew gently in her hair. He rubbed his forehead on her chest and nuzzled her pocket again.

Munching on the last cookie, he followed DJ through the barn and up to his stall.

“I put warm water in for him,” Tony said. “And there’s molasses in his grain. My grandpa always said molasses gives extra energy.”

“Thanks. He’ll like that.”

“I’ll help you wash him. I’ve never seen such a muddy horse in my life.”

“I can’t believe you’re both okay.” Hilary stopped at the bars. “Over a fifty-foot cliff and still walking. Not even a real limp. He must be made of steel.”

“They both are,” Tony said.

Major drained one bucket, and Tony took it to refill.

DJ looked after him and then at Hilary, both of them raising an eyebrow.

“He’s been real nice since—”

“Since he sprained his ankle that day. Never would have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.” DJ took a rubber currycomb out of the bucket, and Hilary another. They set to work combing the worst of the mud off.