High Hurdles Collection Two (59 page)

“I will.” Amy piled her things beside the truck. “Thanks again.”

“You know, you have one mighty good friend there.” Brad pulled away from the curb.

“I know. I'm really lucky.”

“Takes a good friend to have a good friend.”

When DJ got home, Maria handed her several messages. DJ glanced down the paper and shook her head. “What happened?” The messages were all from card shops except for the one from Sean.

“Article come out in paper. You big success.” Maria opened the drawer under the phone and handed DJ a newspaper article. “See.”

DJ groaned at the picture of her and Amy and samples of their cards. They really looked like two kids playing grown-up. But the cards showed well. “Where's Mom?”

“All at Joe's. Back in time for dinner. You call there.”

DJ did as ordered and heard the same information. She hung up and headed upstairs. She'd return the call to Sean before the others got home. But after leaving a message with his answering machine, DJ shook her head. More telephone tag. Between the two of them, talking on the phone almost took a miracle.

DJ started summer art school on Monday, but this time Gran took her.

“I want to see the art department and maybe meet your instructor,” she said by way of excuse.

“You just want to sniff the paints and get your fingers in the clay,” DJ said with a smile, but her butterflies were taking practice spins.

They parked in the north parking lot and followed the signs to the art department. “Mr. Charles said he didn't mind if I sat through the orientation. Makes me wish I could join you. I haven't played with clay for years.”

“Why don't you?” DJ paused in the act of opening the door.

Gran stopped and looked at DJ. A smile started in one corner and soon widened her whole mouth, lighting up her eyes and even setting her silver hair to sparkling. “Why, darlin', why ever not?”

She left DJ seated for the lecture and came back half an hour later, admission slip in hand.

“Here.” DJ handed her a supplies list.

Two hours later as they headed home, they were both digging clay out from under their fingernails and laughing about the trials of bringing up a form on the pottery wheel.

“I want to make some slab pieces, too. That kiln is huge.” DJ dug at a piece of clay stuck to her jean shorts. “I wonder if I can make a horse statue by the end of the class?”

“I don't know why not. Or etch one on a piece of slab. Think how wonderful that could be. A horse etched in terra-cotta, or a bas-relief like that woman's face he showed us.”

“Or I could carve it in more, you know, build up the rump and shoulder …” DJ's fingers sketched the form in the air. She leaned back against the car seat. “And to think I get to do this every morning for six whole weeks.”

“
We
get to, darlin', we get to.”

Herndon behaved like an angel for the rest of the week so that DJ was actually looking forward to the show on the weekend. By the time she'd bathed him and braided his mane on Friday afternoon, he looked good enough to draw oohs and ahhs from the younger kids that idolized DJ.

But on Saturday DJ's butterflies awoke after a brief nap and went into full flutter as she trotted Herndon around the practice ring along with Tony and the other competing junior riders.

“You okay?” he asked. “Seems so strange to not see Major here.”

“I know, but this guy has been on his best behavior today.”

“Tell me about it. Two second-place ribbons and a third. And there's been hot competition here, too.”

“I know.” DJ swallowed hard. She and Herndon were the first ones into the ring for the jumping class.

“And now for the event you've been waiting for, junior jumpers, class number 43A on your programs. We have a good group of youngsters here today. We'll begin with number 16, owner and rider Darla Jean Randall on Herndon.”

DJ smiled at Joe, who mouthed “Darla Jean” and made her smile. She swallowed, the gate swung open, and they cantered a circle and toward the first jump.

Over three and doing fine. DJ kept her gaze on the base of the brush jump in front of them.
Three, two, one, and …

Herndon ran out.

Wanting to beat him, she brought him around again and headed for the jump. He ran out again.
If only we could fly over the stands and home without seeing or speaking to anyone
.

“All right, horse, behave yourself.” Herndon took the jump. DJ gave a sigh of relief only to gather herself for the next one.

Herndon balked at the chicken coop.

DJ heard the announcer commiserating as she trotted her horse out of the arena. They were disqualified.

Chapter • 15

“I think I might have to shoot him. Or myself.”

“Darla Jean Randall, what a thing to say.” Brad laid a hand on her knee and squeezed.

“I second that.” Joe stood on her other side.

DJ didn't dare touch her cheeks for fear she would burn her finger tips. “At least he didn't dump me.”

“True, that's one good thing to be thankful for.”

“I was so scared of him doing it that he probably read my mind.” She could remember telling Amy she'd die of embarrassment if a horse ever did this to her. Ha, so she didn't die. She was still alive even though she wanted to burrow under the dirt and under the fence to someplace beyond the grounds before she came up for air.

Brad and Joe both looked up at her like she'd done something amazing. “I think you just hit the nail on the head, my girl. Did you tell John about that?”

“Tell him what? That horse can't read my mind.”

“But he
can
read your body signals. Did you tell Bridget?”

DJ looked down at her grandfather. “You think I'd tell Bridget something like
that
?” Her voice squeaked on the final word.

Jackie stood on the other side of Brad. “DJ, you and I need to have a serious discussion.”

Herndon snorted and shifted. She felt like clobbering him. Jumping Major was so much easier.

“Well, let's get out of here.” She knew she should wait and see Tony's round, but right now all she wanted to do was go home.

With Herndon loaded in the trailer, Jackie laid a hand on DJ's arm. “About that discussion?”

DJ made a face. “I know. You're going to say I should have told you or John or Bridget that, but I think I just figured it out for myself. How can I tell someone else when I don't know it?”

“Good point.” Jackie gave her a hug. “But we want to make sure you know you can tell us anything. Anything, DJ, and we will do our best to help.”

“I know.” DJ scratched her ear. “Sometimes I think I am totally confused.”

“Join the club. DJ, you've got to understand and remember: No matter what our emotion is—and fear is a strong one—our body communicates that with really subtle signals. Animals and some people are good at reading this.”

“Well, if I'd understood it, I would have said something.”

Oh really?
her inner voice said with a devious chuckle.

“Mom, I think I need to go see Gran,” DJ said after the family had returned from church the next morning.

“Sure. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Maybe, but …” DJ scrunched her mouth from one side to the other. “S'pose I better call and see if she's home, huh?” But Gran's phone rang until the answering machine picked up. DJ set the receiver back in the cradle. She didn't want to talk to an answering machine.

She couldn't settle in to finish another sketch of Stormy, either. And Amy had gone somewhere with her family. Maybe Joe and Gran were working outside and just didn't hear the phone.

“I'm going for a bike ride,” she called. When no one answered, she stopped at the door to the garage. The house was amazingly quiet. From the deck she could hear the boys out at the barn with Robert. She took the stairs, but instead of going to her room, crossed to her parents' wing. She peeked in the door to see her mother sound asleep. Getting her bike out, she wheeled it out to the barn and told Robert she was taking a ride.

“Can we come?” The boys wriggled all over just like the dog between them.

DJ started to say no, but the pleading looks on their round faces did her in. “All right, but get your helmets.”

“Where are you going?” Robert leaned on the shovel handle.

“To see if Joe and Gran are working outside. I called, but there was no answer.”

“Is something wrong?”

Not if you don't include the fact that Herndon and I can't make it around the jumping arena without him running out on me
. “No.” She paused. “Yes, but I'm not sure what it is. I thought maybe Gran could help me sort it out.”

“She and Joe are both good at that. If they're not home, why not come by and get me and I'll ride with you. Maybe we could go up to the Briones parking lot and up the trail.”

“Okay.” DJ took her helmet from the bars of her bike and set it on her head. With the chin strap latched, she rode back to where the helmeted boys were wheeling their bikes out of the garage.
This would be a good chance to start them on riding lessons
. She sent the thought flying. She had a feeling patience wouldn't be her strongest trait right then.

No Explorer in the driveway, no one answering their knock, no one working in the yard. The boys groaned, and DJ felt like groaning, too. But the ride up into the park cleared her head, and the antics of the twins made her laugh again.