High Hurdles Collection Two (25 page)

Chapter • 3

I should have just said no
.

You can't. He's your father now
.

But how can I work all this out?

The thoughts waged war in her mind. DJ lay back on her bed, one leg crossed over the other. She felt like beating on the bed with her heels. Now she couldn't even go over to the barn, let alone ride. And all because of those two stu—She shut off that line of thought. It wasn't the twins' fault.

“Fiddle! Double and triple fiddle!” She glared at the spot on the ceiling that looked like the monster in
Beauty and the Beast
when she squinted her eyes just right. And on top of all that, Robert didn't have time to help her with algebra tonight.

“DJ?” The twins spoke as one.

“Go away.”

“DeeJaaay!” This time they tapped on her door.

“Go ask your dad.” Emphasis on
dad
. Right now she didn't want to even hear his name.

“He's busy.”

“On the phone.”

And I'm not? I've got homework up to my eyebrows and two bratty boys bugging me
. She rolled off her bed and to her feet, all in one smooth motion. Jerking the door open, she hissed, “Go watch a video.”

Two lower lips quivered and tears pooled in their eyes faster than she could blink.

“You heard me, now go.” She made shooing motions with her hands.

One tear rolled over a rounded cheek. They stared up at her, waiting for her to change her mind.

DJ steeled herself against the tear.

Another trickled down, on the other face.

“Look, I've got homework to do. Go get a book and read.”

“Can't read—” sniff—“yet.”

“Then look at the pages.” DJ shut the door in their faces and leaned against it. When she heard them shuffle down the hall, she sat at her desk. Now she felt lower than dirt. She propped her head up in her hands. One little voice whispered,
Call them back
. The other said,
Good going, girl. That told them
.

When she closed her eyes, she could see Gran's sorrowful face.

DJ sucked in a deep breath. She'd read to them later. Right now—she slammed open her history book and began reading. Taking notes as she read was the only way she could keep her mind on her homework. Two pairs of swimming blue eyes kept intruding.

When she got to the algebra, she stopped cold. Getting up and going to the window, she peered out. Rain. Oh great. It looked about as happy as she felt.

How come everyone left everything up to her? A few days ago they said they'd help her, and here she was getting saddled with the twins after school. What kind of help was that? And Robert promised to help her with algebra and he bailed out.

Just like you flunked out with the boys
.

“But I didn't promise to read to them every night.” She made a face at the reflection in the window. Back to her desk. She sank into the chair and stared at the wall. A card caught her eye.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

“I bet whoever wrote that didn't have to do algebra.”

You said you'd not just try but do your best
.

She whirled away from the chair and paced the room. If only there was some way to shut off smart small voices.

“Darla Jean Randall, I am totally ashamed of you.”

DJ spun around as her mother's tap at the door preceded her entry by only a millisecond.

“Now what'd I do?” She saw the boys, cheeks tear streaked, standing behind her mother.

DJ groaned.

“It's not what you did but what you didn't!” Lindy planted her hands on her hips. “As a member of this family, you can accept some responsibility around here.”

“I'm trying to. I have a mountain of homework, and I'm trying to get it done so I can bring my grades up, like you demanded.” White-hot anger surged clear up from her toes.

“Your brothers needed you.”

“Isn't it enough that I have to watch them tomorrow? I can't do it all!”

Lindy clamped her teeth so hard that her jaw turned white. “We will discuss this later.” Lindy spun on her heel and stalked out the door, closing it behind her with a very decided click.

DJ could hear her murmuring to the boys, her tone all sweetness now.

“Not fair! She's not fair at all!” DJ stomped around the room. When she passed her desk, she swept the algebra book to the floor and kept on pacing.

“Little sneaks. Got to have their own way all the time. And she buys right into it. Spoiled brats, that's what they are.” The more she muttered, the more she paced, the hotter she burned. Instead of tears, steam formed in her eyes. At least, that's what it felt like. Hot and burning. She blew her nose, and with that, the tears broke loose and ran down her face.

She dashed them away and continued pacing. Why was everything always her fault? Now she'd probably be on restrictions clear into eternity.

She slumped on the edge of the bed. “Boy, Randall, when you wipe out, you do it with a bang.”

Back at her desk, she looked again at the Bible verse. “God, if I'm supposed to be able to do all things, how about some extra hours in the day?” She stared at the open pages of her textbook. “And a brain that gets this stuff easy so I don't have to waste so much time on it?”

She turned back to the day's lesson, the one she finally understood. As she reread it, she could remember what it meant. So the next lesson would only carry things one step further. She muttered the equation over and over as she worked to finish the assignment. She managed all but the story problem at the end.

And who could she tell? Her mother hated her—or close to it. Robert was still on the phone for all she knew. The boys wouldn't understand, and Amy couldn't talk on the phone after nine. After a moment of thought, she glanced toward the ceiling. “You want to say ‘I told you so'?” She snorted. “I can say thank you, though. I got the assignment done all by myself.” She thought a moment. “No, I got my assignment done with
your
help, right? So thanks a whole bunch. Now, if you could do something about my mother …”

Even after she'd gotten into her Snoopy nightshirt and brushed her teeth, there was no sign of her mother. DJ stuffed her books and papers into her backpack and set it on the chair, ready for the morning. She looked through her closet and decided what to wear. Padding down the hall to the bathroom again, she could tell the boys were sleeping. Only the night-light in their room showed through the cracked-open door. Light still shone under her mother's door. The downstairs was dark.

“So is Mom coming or not?” she asked the face in the mirror.

No answer, so after flushing the toilet, she headed back to her room. What a perfect ending to a perfect day. “Ha!”

With the lights out and DJ snuggled down under the covers, she could no longer ignore the voice. Right, she'd lost her temper again. Right, she'd been mean to the twins. Right, she was about as good as a load of dirty shavings being carted out of the barn.

“God, I'm sorry. Please forgive me?” But she knew she needed to ask her mother's forgiveness. Robert probably hated her, too. And if she didn't get to ride soon, Major would hate her.

“Where's Mom?” she asked in the morning. Robert had the phone clutched between shoulder and ear as he poured milk over the boys' cereal.

“Already gone to the airport.” He turned back to the phone. “I told you there is no way we can manage that.”

DJ got a food bar out of the drawer and poured herself a glass of milk. Chugalugging that, she slipped out the door at the first honk of the Yamamoto car horn.

“You'll be here for the boys?” Robert called out the door as she started to get in the car.

“Yes!” She dumped her backpack on the floor and slumped into the seat, snapping her seat belt in place.

“Boy, if you don't look happy.” Amy tucked a strand of dark straight hair behind her ear.

“Don't ask.”

“I won't.”

“I have to baby-sit the twins after school. Joe is gone, so I'm taking care of Ranger, too. Any chance you could feed the horses for me tonight?”

“Remember, we're going to Grandma's. You won't be going to the Academy today.” Mrs. Yamamoto looked over the seat. “Sorry, DJ, but it's my mother's birthday. Amy will be leaving school early.”

“Who's feeding Josh?” Josh was Amy's half Arab gelding. They rode and showed Western.

“I was going to ask you.” Amy leaned back against the seat.

“I can't believe this. Who are we supposed to ask? Bridget?”

“That'll be the day. How are you getting home from school?”

DJ slapped the heel of her hand against her forehead. “You'd think someone would wonder about that. They just took it for granted that I could ride with you, I guess.”
Or rather, no one gave you a thought
, the little voice whispered.
“Good old dependable DJ. She's supposed to be a miracle worker”

Mrs. Yamamoto looked at her in the rearview mirror. “If you can get an excuse to leave school early, I could drop you off on our way to the birthday party.”

DJ nodded. “Thanks, I'll talk to Ms. Benson.”

By the time she explained the whole mess to the vice-principal, the bell rang so DJ was late for first period. “It would have been easier to just skip,” she muttered as she jogged down the hall to her classroom. “Besides, this is Good Friday. Should've had today off anyway.” But the pink slip to excuse her now resided in her back pocket. Ms. Benson had said she didn't do this for many students. But she knew DJ never skipped or lied, so she could trust her.

When DJ got home, the message on the answering machine said the boys would be home at 3:00. She glanced at the clock. Just 2:00. “Fiddle! I could get an extra hour in at the Academy if I didn't have to wait for them.”

The message had also said she was to make tacos for dinner. DJ got the hamburger browning and headed upstairs to change into her barn clothes. This way she at least had a head start on the cooking.

While she waited for the boys, she checked the air on their bike tires. Since she was the only one around to feed the horses, they would have to ride to Briones with her. They'd ridden to Gran's before with Robert, so she knew they could pedal that far. Thank goodness it wasn't raining.

But … she hadn't asked permission to take them there. And what would they do while she worked Patches and fed all three horses? Not that it would take a whole lot of time. But she usually worked Patches for an hour.

So what was wrong with the plan? Nothing, except she hadn't asked in advance.

But how was she supposed to ask in advance when she hadn't known about the problem? Should she try calling Robert? Pull him out of a meeting? Or her mother?

That
would be the day.

“Come on, guys. We're going to the Academy.” Her announcement brought them up short. She waved good-bye to the woman who dropped them off and turned back to see two startled faces.

“How we getting there?”

“Bikes.”

“Yeah!” The two dropped their papers from kindergarten and ran in a circle around the kitchen. “We're going to the barn with DJ.”

“Cool it! And get your boots on. It'll be muddy up there.” Within minutes the three were pedaling up the street. Halfway up the hill, the boys had to dismount and push their bikes. DJ shifted into low gear and rode beside them.

“Hey, guys, you'd have more breath for pedaling if you'd quit talking so much.” She was sorry as soon as the words passed her lips. She held up a hand. “Sorry. I'm just in a hurry 'cause I have lots to do.”

“We go downhill now.”

“That's faster.”

They hopped back on and took off ahead of her, as if to show her how fast they really could pedal. At the Academy they left their bikes beside the barn and walked through the open doors.

“Hey, how come you brought the munchkins?” Tony Andrada, one of the other students, strolled out of the tack room, his saddle on his arm.