No Time for Horses (19 page)

Tears stung and I bit my lip hard, tasting
blood. “Why do you guys have to be so wonderful?”

“We’re not.” Jack opened the stall door and
came inside. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “We
argue and hassle each other all the time. All of us agree on one
thing, babe. Horses are big, and people aren’t. When someone gets
hurt, everybody else needs to step up. That’s what we do. Remember
when Twaziem attacked me and I was out of the barn? You came and
helped Robin with the chores every time you got the chance.”

“It was barely two days a week.” I turned my
face into his sweatshirt. “That’s not a lot.”

“It was the most you could do with all the
demands on your time.” He kissed the top of my head. “And we
appreciated it. Now, I’m going to help finish up. You’re going to
the office and ice pack your head. See if Rocky has any
aspirin.”

“How do you know it hurts?”

“Because I’m smart and I know what
concussions are like.”

On the way home, we stopped for dinner. I was
the first one at the house so Jack walked in with me. He looked
around and made sure everything was safe. No burglars, no
boogeymen, and I didn’t tell him he was so cute when he did the
protective thing. It was too exhausting. I sat down on the couch in
the family room and waited for him.

He came back with a blanket. “Lie down and
I’ll cover you up.”

“No. If I do, I’ll fall asleep. I don’t want
to do that until everyone gets here.”

“I’m not leaving you alone.” He dropped to
his knees, unlaced my boots, and removed them. “Get some rest. You
had a busy day.”

“And you’ll stay?” I yawned, swinging my legs
onto the sofa. “What about your folks? Don’t they expect you
home?”

“I’ll call them, Ms. Worrywart.” He tucked a
throw pillow under my cheek. “Sleep.”

* * * *

Wednesday, December 4
^th
, 8:30 p.m.

Mom’s voice woke me. “What’s going on
here?”

“I’m doing my homework, Mrs. Miller. Vicky’s
sleeping,” Jack said. “I didn’t want to leave her home by herself
when she’s recovering from a concussion.”

That was going to create problems. I
struggled to open my eyes and propped up on an elbow. “It’s okay.
I’m awake.”

“Barely.” Jack slid a textbook into his
backpack. “Get some rest. I’ll come get you tomorrow so you don’t
have to walk to school.”

Mom scowled at him, folding her arms across
her tuxedo shirt. “I can take her.”

“You can.” Jack swung his backpack over one
shoulder. “You won’t. You’ll dump the kids on her and treat her
like a servant. She’s not dead yet, so there’s no problem crapping
on her.”

“I don’t like your attitude,” Mom said,
narrowing her eyes and glaring at him. “I’ve told you before that
you’re out of line. I love my daughter.”

“Really?” Jack started out of the room.
“Which one?”

“Vicky.” Mom followed him. “I love
Vicky.”

“I don’t see it, so I don’t believe it.”

It sounded like the two of them were going to
keep squabbling about who loved me the most. Right now, I voted for
Jack. That being the case, I snuggled back down on the couch. I was
almost asleep when I heard Mom come back.

“If you’re that tired, you should go to bed,
Vicky.”

“It’s too hard to go down to the basement.
I’m fine here.”

“You have a bedroom. You can sleep
there.”

“Not happening.” I shifted a bit so I had my
back to her, but I didn’t open my eyes. “The kids would never let
me. If I’m lying down, they’ll have to jump on the bed and wake me
up. They’ll need baths, jammies, and stories. I’m staying here
until they get home. When they’re here, I’ll get up and deal with
the five of them.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Mom said.

“You don’t have to. It’s not worth the
hassle.”

“What hassle?”

“You sniveling and whining at me because of
everything they need.” I buried my face in the pillow. “Just let me
sleep a while. Please.”

“Okay.” She clicked off the pole lamp. “Get
some sleep. I’m sorry, honey.”

Chapter
Nineteen

Thursday,
December 5
^th
, 6:00
a.m.

The second round of the food drive started at
school today with a morning assembly. I showered and dressed in my
cheer uniform, the short skirt, and sweater. I braided my hair,
winding blue and gold ribbons through the long coil that confined
my waist-length mane. Make-up and I was ready to go. I still had
fifteen minutes before Jack arrived. Time for a quick cup of coffee
and a muffin. I found Mom in the kitchen. “Thanks for putting the
kids to bed last night. I was wiped.”

She heaved a sigh, all martyr in her flowered
blue bathrobe. “I’m not a dragon, Vicky.”

“I never said you were.”

“Your boyfriend really thinks I am. I thought
you two were calling it quits.”

“We talked about it last May when you and
Rick started in on us. I can’t see why we should break up when
we’re happy together.” I poured a half cup of caffeine. I opened
the fridge and took a muffin out of the package in the veggie
drawer where I kept them hidden from the kids. “The only people who
aren’t thrilled with us being a couple are you and Rick. And it’s
not because you think Jack is bad for me. It’s because he
interferes with my Cinderella duties, and he’s too honest to suit
either one of you. When he sees something wrong, he says so.”

Another long-suffering sigh. “I didn’t know
you were afraid to be home by yourself.”

“And you don’t really care.” I wrapped a
paper towel around my blueberry muffin, put it on the counter, and
went after my backpack in the family room. “You’re just pissed
because Jack stayed with me. You’re right. I should have had him
take me to Tom’s. I could have hung out there for a few hours until
everyone got home, and Tom would have brought me here.”

“Who is Tom?”

“Student body prez.” I unzipped the top of my
back-pack and pulled out the grant application. “He can drive. None
of my friends have their licenses yet. They’re doing Drivers’ Ed
this semester, all except me and Robin. We’re signing up for it in
the spring.”

“How do you plan to pay for it?” Mom poured
her own coffee. “I told you that we don’t have money for
extras.”

“By then, I’ll have earned enough at Shamrock
Stable,” I said. “Rocky’s paying me for my hours now that I’m
caught up on my internship, plus I get a bonus for each horse I
train.”

“I won’t have you hurt.”

I nearly told her that I knew she wasn’t
worried about anything but losing the nanny, housekeeper, and cook.
She didn’t actually care about me. She’d stopped loving me years
ago. Did she think I was stupid? I’d figured it out when we stopped
celebrating my birthday and when there never were presents under
the Christmas tree for me except for the ones from my friends. I
kept my teenage snarky mouth shut. I just flipped through the pages
to the one that needed signatures and handed her the application.
“I need you to sign this so I can get a grant to stay at Lincoln
High.”

“I already told you that there isn’t any
money for tuition. We can’t pay back a loan.”

“It’s not a loan. It’s a grant. The school
arranges for someone to pay for me to stay enrolled.”

“Why would they do that? There’s a catch,
Vicky. There’s bound to be.”

“They like me. They want me around.”

“Of course they do.” Sarcasm dripped from the
words. Mom read the last paragraph. “Are you trying to embarrass
me? This says you need a grant because we can’t afford the school.
They want copies of my income tax. I’m not providing that
information.”

“For once, could you just think about what’s
best for me?” I planted my fists on my hips. “It’s Lincoln High.
When I graduate, I’ll be ready for college, and they have a hundred
percent acceptance rate. All of the seniors are admitted to the
universities they want to attend.”

“Who says you’re going to college?” Mom tore
the application in half then ripped the papers into quarters. She
tossed the pieces in the garbage can under the sink. “If I can’t
pay tuition now, how do you expect me to pay for college?”

I backed a step, stunned. It was as if she’d
thrown me in the trash along with my dreams. “You hate me. You
really do.”

“Oh, Vicky, get over yourself. This may come
as a surprise, but the world doesn’t turn around you and your
whims. Save the teen angst for somebody else.”

A tear streaked down my cheek. I blinked
hard, determined not to cry in front of her. I went into the pantry
and snagged the last two cans of beets. I returned to the kitchen
and grabbed my backpack. “I am so out of here.”

“Don’t you want this muffin?” Mom called
after me.

“No,” I yelled back. “You can eat it, shove
it, or toss it.”

I slammed the door behind me, hoping it’d
wake up the kids and ruin her day. Probably not. The five of them
could sleep through an earthquake, and they’d barely make school
today. Did I care? No!

Jack pulled up just as I reached the end of
the driveway. Slinging my backpack onto the floor, I followed it
inside the cab. I slid across the bench seat and into his arms.

He hugged me tight. “What’s wrong? What did
she do to you?”

I buried my face against his shirt and cried.
“She hates me. She really does.”

“Only when you inconvenience her, baby. If
she really hated you, she wouldn’t trust you with her kids or the
house.”

“She trashed my grant app. She wants me out
of Lincoln High.”

“That’s no surprise. She’s been trying to get
you out since school started. Now, how are you going to deal with
it?”

A good question, I thought. He held me for a
few more minutes and then I slipped away. “I’m okay now. When I get
to school, I’ll go see Mr. Baxter. I’ll get another copy of the
application and do it again.”

“I’ll bet he has it on his hard drive. Have
him email it to you and then you can save it in your computer file
in the lab. It won’t matter how many copies she throws away.”

“Wow, you’re smart.”

“That’s why you love me.” Jack winked at me.
“One more suggestion. You should contact your counselor and see if
she can have one of the parents pick up the kids. The forecaster
was talking snow when I left this morning.”

* * * *

Thursday, December 5
^th
, 3:00 p.m.

We’d just finished rehearsing a dance routine
when Ms. Walker waved to me. “Vicky, don’t you have to go pick up
the kids today? Aren’t you seeing your…?”

She stopped, and I knew she didn’t want to
embarrass me in front of the squad. “Hey, guys. I see a therapist
every week.”

“We know that,” Evie said, obviously
impatient with what she considered inconsequential matters. “It’s
part of the divorce crap everybody goes through. We need to nail
this sequence. Now, are we rehearsing for Saturday or not?”

I grinned at her. “Rehearsing. I contacted
Ingrid and explained that it wasn’t good for me to walk the kids
through the freezing rain. They’ll catch cold, and I can’t miss
school to take care of them.”

“A doctor’s note,” Ms. Walker said. “From now
on, I want a doctor’s note from you, Vicky, if you tell me that
you’re ill. Part of being a parent is taking care of your kids when
they’re sick, and yours should realize it.”

“They’ll just leave them home alone like they
did me when I was that age,” I said. “It’s not happening.” I met
her stern gaze. “I’m not doing that to the brat squad, Coach.”

“I should have known you wouldn’t.” She
patted my shoulder. “You’re a good person, Vicky. All right,
ladies. Break’s over. Let’s get back to work. We want to win this
Saturday.”

An hour later when practice ended, I headed
for the parking lot to meet Jack. The steel gray sky looked
ominous. It wasn’t raining anymore. Tiny white flakes swirled
around me as I walked toward the pickup. Oh, crap. Here came Jack’s
snow. And it was the kind that stuck to everything. If we got an
inch or more, this side of Washington State would totally shut
down.

“I have a life here.” I yelled at the sky.
“Will you just knock it off? Pick on someone else for a while.”

I heard laughter, and when I turned toward
the entry, Adam waved at me. “Let me know if that works, Vicky. You
may have to teach all of us how to do an ‘end the snow’ dance.”

“Bite me!”

“Just let me know when and where!”

Laughing, I climbed into the pickup and
leaned over to kiss Jack. “You can stop this stuff anytime, you
know. How am I going to get everything done if it keeps
snowing?”

“I have no idea.” He hugged me for an
instant. “Guess I could try to borrow my mom’s car. It has
four-wheel drive.”

“Let’s wait and see.” I snuggled next to him.
“It could stop.”

“Okay. If it does, do you want to take the
kids and go get a tree Sunday night?”

“Definitely!”

Ten minutes later, I found the kids having a
snack, five little blond stair-steps in the waiting room when I
walked into Ingrid’s office. Chrissy waved at me from her stroller,
crackers spread out on the plastic tray. “Hi there.” I smiled at
the older ones. “How was your day?”

“Daddy’s mad at you,” Cathy said. “He says
getting us is your job. Don’t you love us anymore, Vicky?”

“Sweetie, of course I love you.” I went to
the table and snitched one of her animal crackers. I wouldn’t tell
the kid what I honestly thought of her jerk father. “That’s why I
wanted Ingrid to send someone with a car for you. I love you too
much to let you get cold and wet.”

“Told you.” Lance grinned at me, then went
back and sucked more juice from the box in his hand. “Mama Vicky
will always love us.”