Homing (24 page)

If she pursued this with Jeff now-provided, of course, that she could get him even to talk about anything that might have happened yesterday afternoon-it could take most of the morning.

She looked at him once more.

The eyes-hadn't she heard that kids who were on drugs had dilated pupils?

But when? Just when they were high? All the time?

She peered at him, trying to analyze the state of his eyes. They looked normal, yet something, clearly, was wrong.

What was she supposed to do? Just ask him if he was doing drugs? She suddenly realized how totally naive she was about such things.

Maybe the pallor didn't mean anything at all-maybe it was just because he'd been sound asleep a few minutes ago. "You're sure you're all right?" she asked,

"I already told you, Ma, I'm fine," Jeff replied.

Five minutes later, as she left for work, Marge Larkin knew she'd taken the path of least resistance. Something, obviously, had gone on in her house yesterday afternoon, but right now she was just too busy, and felt too lousy, to deal with it.

Tonight, she told herself as she headed into town. I'll talk to him tonight, and if I have to, I'll talk to Karen and Russell, too. But whatever it is, it'll just have to wait.

Jeff stared into the cracked mirror in the bathroom.

Why had he told his mother he felt fine, when he didn't at all?

In fact, he had never felt worse in his life.

Last night he'd had chills and fever; all night long he'd gone back and forth between freezing to death and burning up.

He'd felt sick, but hadn't been able to throw up.

There was a terrible itching feeling, a raw, stinging, maddening sensation so deep it seemed to be rising out of his very bones.

This morning, when his mother had shaken him awake, he felt a little bit better, but not much.

Yet when he tried to tell her how sick he was, he hadn't been able to. It was as if he were paralyzed, thinking the words but unable to will them from his brain to his mouth.

instead he'd told her he was fine.

Fine!

But he felt terrible! Why hadn't he told his mother?

Was he going nuts or something?

Then, as he stared at his image in the mirror, he saw another image, one that rose out of the depths of his memory to superimpose itself on the face in the glass.

An image of Julie Spellman, smiling at him.

Beckoning to him.

Luring him.

Enslaving him.

His pulse quickened as he stared past his own reflection to the vision floating beyond the mirror, and he knew that he had to see her.

Had to be near her.

Suddenly, being close to Julie Spellman had become the most important thing in his life.

"Why can't I ride her?" Molly demanded. She was perched on the top rail of the corral, watching as Kevin, tiding Greta bareback, cantered easily around the perimeter of the enclosure, Flicka racing along after her mother, struggling to keep up. "But what if I just walk her?" the little girl pleaded. "How am I supposed to train Flicka when she grows up, if I don't even know how to ride myself?"

Kevin grinned at Molly as he passed her. "Come on look at how little you are. Greta's way too big for you."

"I bet I could do it," Molly insisted. Then, as Kevin ignored her, she decided to try a different tactic. "How old were you when you learned to ride?"

"Five or six, I guess," Kevin replied before he realized his mistake.

"Well, I'm almost ten!" Molly declared.

Kevin reined the mare to a stop, swung his left leg over her neck and dropped to the ground. As he dismounted, Molly jumped off the fence and ran over to take the reins.

"Tell you what," Kevin said as Molly began leading the horse around the corral, walking her just the way he'd taught her to. "We'll ask your mom, and if she says it's all right, I'll put a saddle on Greta after breakfast, and you can try it. But I'll hold the reins, and you have to promise to do exactly what I tell you. Okay?"

"Really?" Molly asked. She'd been pleading with Kevin to teach her to ride Greta all week, but she hadn't actually expected him to give in. "I promise! I promise!" Almost trembling with excitement, she finished walking the horse, forcing herself not to rush and give Kevin an excuse to change his mind. Finally, after she'd walked Greta around the corral three times and Kevin agreed that the mare had been properly cooled down, Molly turned the horse loose.

instantly Flicka began nursing at the mare's nipple, finally reaching the goal she'd been trying to achieve as she'd followed her mother around the enclosure.

Feeding both the horses lumps of sugar, Molly crawled between the two lower rails of the fence and ran up the hill to the house to begin lobbying her mother for permission to ride Greta.

In the kitchen, Karen was feeling better than she had in several days, and she knew exactly why.

Julie.

This morning-indeed, ever since she'd come home from baby-sitting Ben Larkin yesterday-Julie seemed finally to have recovered from her anger over the grounding, and from the strange lethargy that had overcome her since Otto had died.

Her color appeared better to Karen, and at the table last night she'd once again joined in the conversation, as close to her old self as she'd been since they arrived in Pleasant Valley. And this morning Julie had gotten up early to help Molly turn out the horses, then cheerfully volunteered to pitch in with breakfast.

Perhaps, finally, things were going to settle back down to normal.

She was just getting ready to go out and ring the triangle to summon the rest of the family when Molly burst into the kitchen, bubbling over with the news that Kevin had finally agreed to teach her how to ride Greta. "But he says I have to ask you first," she finished. "But I know I can do it, Mom. Kevin was only five when he learned! And if I'm going to"

Karen held up her hands in mock protest Against the torrent of words. "Will you just slow down, wash your hands, and get to the table? We'll all talk about it when Russell and Kevin come in. All right?"

Though another torrent of excited words was already building in Molly's throat, she managed to choke them back until everyone had gathered around the table, but as Karen passed the platter of pancakes to Russell, Molly could stand it no longer. "You said we'd talk about it at the table," she blurted out. "And we're all at the table, so you have to talk about it!"

The discussion, as it turned out, lasted only a couple of minutes, and it was Russell who finally summed it up.

"She lives on a farm. She owns a horse. She needs to know how to ride. What's the big deal?"

"But she's so young," Karen protested, though she already knew the issue was decided.

"She's older than Kevin or I were when we first got on a horse," Russell told her. Then he faced the little girl directly, his eyes alive with humor for the first time since his father had died. When he spoke again, his voice actually took on the same timbre Otto's had had. " 'Course, I I spose there ain't no way girls can do some of the things boys can do. . ." he added in perfect imitation of his father.

Realizing the discussion was essentially over, Karen nonetheless tried one last gambit. "It seems to me Molly's going to have to convince Julie, too. I mean, Greta's her horse, isn't she?" But to her surprise, her older daughter only shrugged.

"It's okay with me," Julie said. "Molly's the one who's crazy about horses. She should know how to ride."

"When?" Molly demanded, sensing victory. "This morning? Please? I'll do the dishes, and clean my room, and everything!"

Karen gave up the fight. "All right, if you all think it's okay, I'll go along with it. But if you fall off, don't come crying to me," she added, doing her best to glare at Molly but failing completely. "And don't bother with the dishes or your room. I'll take care of it myself."

As the rest of the family began planning the day around the kitchen table, instead of in the tack room Karen leaned back in her chair and almost guiltily savored the moment.

For the first time since the wedding, all of them were together, and all of them-even Julie-seemed to be happy.

Except that Otto is dead, Karen reminded herself. And yet, despite the guilt her feelings caused her, she couldn't rid herself of the thought that perhaps, just perhaps, Otto's death might have been for the best in the long run.

He hadn't been happy about what was happening to his farm, or his family, or even himself.

And he'd died quickly. Ellen Filmore had even suggested that after the first quick sting, he might not have been conscious for more than a few seconds.

And now, finally, the rest of them seemed truly to be turning into a family.

A real family.

"Why are we going over to the Owens'?" Ben asked, still angry at his brother over his banishment the previous afternoon. Now, his fists settled stubbornly on his hips, and his legs spread wide as he glared up at Jeff's towering height. "I don't want to go, and you can't make me!" he declared.

Jeff reached down, picked the much smaller boy up, and held him at arm's length as Ben struggled to get loose.

"We're going over there because that's what I say we're going to do, and I'm a lot bigger than you."

"I'm telling Mom when she gets home," Ben shouted.

"She said-2'

"She said I was supposed to take care of you, and I'm going to," Jeff told him. "And we're going over to the Owens', and you can play with Molly."

"She's a girl!" Ben objected. "I hate girls!"

"What about horses?" Jeff asked. "You like them, don't you?"

Suddenly Ben looked uncertain. "Horses?" he asked, sensing a trap.

"Sure. Molly has a colt, and I bet she'll let you pet it."

"Really?" Ben asked, plunging instantly into the snare his brother had laid for him. "Where'd she get a colt?" By the time they started across the field, Ben's threat to tell his mother about Jeff's imagined transgression had vanished from his mind, and as they approached the Owens' corral a few minutes later, he ran ahead to scramble up to the top rail of the fence.

inside the corral, holding a big horse by its reins was Molly, whom Ben had seen a couple of times but never spoken to.

"Is that your horse?" he asked.

Molly shook her head. "Mine's a colt. This one's my sister's, and Kevin's going to teach me to ride her."

"Will he teach me, too?" Ben asked.

Molly hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know. Who are you?"

"Ben Larkin. I live over there." He pointed off toward Vic Costas' farm. "Can I watch while Kevin teaches you?"

Molly shrugged. "I guess."

A few seconds later, as Kevin came out of the barn, Jeff joined his brother on the fence. "Hey, Kev," he called.

"Where's Julie?"

Kevin glanced at Jeff. Why was he asking about Julie?

What did-Then he remembered that Julie had been babysitting Ben yesterday afternoon.

Had Jeff been there, too?

A twinge of jealousy shot through Kevin. "I don't know," he replied. "I guess she's in the house."

"She's coming down to watch me ride," Molly informed Jeff. "You can watch, too, if you want."

Kevin flushed when Molly contradicted him, and quickly turned away from Jeff. "Come on," he told Molly.

"Let's get you up on Greta."

Molly watched as Kevin demonstrated how to mount the horse. Then he dismounted, and, still holding the reins in his left hand, lifted Molly with an arm around her waist till she was high enough to place her foot into the stirrup, grab the pommel, and scramble up, throwing her right leg over Greta's saddle. "I did it!" she cried as she sat up straight. "I got"

Greta took a sudden step, and Molly, surprised by the movement, almost lost her balance.

"Hang on!" Kevin told her. Quieting the horse, he moved back to where Molly sat and shortened first one of the straps, then the other. "There, that's better," he said.

He showed Molly how to hold the reins properly, and gave her instruction on how to sit on the horse. Grasping the bridle, he began leading Greta slowly around the corral, letting Molly get used to the feel of the horse.

On the third circuit of the enclosure, Kevin noticed that Julie had come down to the corral, and was now seated on the top rail, watching.

Next to her, sitting very close to her, was Jeff Larkin.

As they approached Julie and Jeff, Kevin felt the mare tense. Then she snorted loudly and jerked her head, as if trying to pull away.

"What's wrong?" Molly asked. "Is she scared of something?"

Kevin, certain the horse had merely reacted to the twinge of jealousy he'd felt when he saw Julie and Jeff together, tightened his grip on the bridle.

"It's all right," he said, trying to soothe the horse.

"Nothing's wrong at all." He kept walking, making the circuit of the corral yet again, and Greta seemed to relax as they moved away from Julie and Jeff. "Good girl," Kevin whispered into the mare's ear. "I don't like it, either, but we'll just act like we don't notice."

They came around the last turn in the fence, and as they approached Jeff and Julie once more, the horse shied. Her nostrils flared and her ears flattened Against her head.

"Easy," Kevin crooned. "Just take it easy."

But the horse, as if sensing some unseen danger emanating from Julie and Jeff, tried to pull away again, this time rearing up and jerking loose from Kevin's grip.

On top of the horse, Molly shrieked in alarm and dropped the reins. A second later Greta reared again, one of her hooves lashing out toward Kevin, who ducked away just in time to keep from being kicked in the head. As he rolled away from the spooked horse, Greta lunged off in the other direction. Molly clung to the pommel, screaming in terror now, but the next time Greta reared up, the little girl slipped from the saddle and fell to the ground. Thrashing around, trying to roll away from the bucking horse, Molly's screams grew ever louder.

From her place on the fence, Julie watched in horror as the horse lunged back and forth in the corral, its hooves pounding the ground only inches from her sister. Molly scrambled first one way, then another, but no matter which way she turned, Greta seemed to be there, blocking her escape.