Nothing But Horses (27 page)

“I’ll make this easy,” I said. “I’ll have my
usual chicken fettuccini, house salad with ranch and a cola.”

“I’m on it.” Tom smiled at me. “So, what are
you doing loose on Friday night? Autumn told me it was when the two
of you watched the
Simpsons
.”

“Normally, we do. Today, the squad wanted to
see Centennial play so we took a trip to Lake Windermere. They did
an amazing job of kicking Mount Pilchuck’s tails.”

“You’ll have to share the details later.
Right now, I’ll put in your order.”

While he did, I pulled out my cell and called
home. Once Mom knew where I was, she wouldn’t worry. She asked me
to be home by eleven and I promised I would. I didn’t actually have
a curfew. It was always something we negotiated on a case by case
basis.

After he delivered my salad, I watched Tom
work the room. He kept glasses full, carried around plates,
followed through on what his customers needed. He made sure all the
guests stayed happy and never seemed to be overwhelmed by their
requests. I couldn’t have done what he did so easily. He took time
to refill my water and I shared the scores. Both Centennial teams
had won their matches against Mount Pilchuck.

He liked that and returned to his circuit
with a smile. He was back a short time later with my pasta and
breadsticks. He refilled my water. “We close at ten. Stick around,
will you? I have something I want to ask.”

“Okay. No worries.” I wanted to do a little
dance in the booth, but I restrained myself. I had to act cool like
his request wasn’t a big deal. He was so cute, especially when he
gave me those long looks from his chocolate brown eyes and that
smile.

A few minutes after ten, Tom came back with a
box for my leftovers. “How was it?”

“Great as usual. What’s up?”

“Your birthday.” Tom took a deep breath. He
seemed oddly nervous. “I have tickets to Marvella’s Spring Fling.
Will you go with me?”

“Are you joking? I’d love it.” I stopped,
stared at him. “Wait a second. That show is a total extravaganza.
The tickets cost a fortune. Tom, you can’t afford it. Can you get
your money back? Let’s do something else. Dinner here and a movie,
a cheap afternoon matinee.”

He laughed, shook his head. “No, Sierra.
These are V.I.P. tickets and they include dinner and dessert
buffets, a barn tour, souvenirs. The works.”

“Now, I know you need to get a refund.”

“It doesn’t happen that way.” He sat down
across from me, still amused. “I wasn’t going to tell you the
truth. I wanted you to think I was a big shot, but I can’t. You’re
too sweet.”

“Okay, now you definitely have the wrong
person.”

“Sweet, because you won’t take something if
you think it’s a hardship for me.” He picked up my hand. “Sierra,
one of my regular customers is a reporter for the local paper. They
get a lot of complimentary tickets to different events to share.
Since he knows I like horses, he passed on two of those tickets to
me.”

“So, we can really do this?”

“We really can.” He slid out of the booth,
getting ready to go back to work. “The only catch is that it’s on a
school night. We’d have to go right after basketball practice.”

“For Marvella’s Spring Fling, I’d skip
practice even if Coach skinned me alive.” I was on my feet too. I
threw myself against Tom and hugged him. “You’re amazing.”

“And it only took a horse show for you to see
it.” He laughed, grinning down at me.

“I always saw it. I just wasn’t telling
you.”

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Shamrock Stable, Washington

Sunday, February
2
^nd
, 1:15 pm

January had felt like a wild and crazy month
between the classes at Lincoln High, basketball, Community Theater,
the at-risk group and puppy obedience. I’d missed my big red booger
horse so after lunch, I headed for the barn and Nevada. He crunched
down on carrots while I groomed him. I told him all about
Marvella’s Spring Fling. “I’ve checked out their website and
watched their trailers like a zillion times. We’re not doing the
Roman riding, but I bet we can do some of their other tricks.”

Nevada nuzzled me and I stroked his blazed
face. “I know what this affection really means.” I gave him another
carrot. “You missed your treats.”

“I think he missed you too.” Dave stopped
outside the stall. “Your mom told me about the Spring Fling. You’ll
enjoy it.”

“Have you been to it?”

“Not this year. I went to one of their
previous shows with an Animal Control officer from King
County.”

“How was it?” I started untangling a
humongous knot in Nevada’s thick flaxen mane, the kind that my
grandfather said was a remnant of a leprechaun riding my horse in
the night. “Marvella’s videos on the Internet are incredible.”

“You’ll enjoy the liberty work.” Dave rested
his arms on the door and watched me fuss over my horse. “One
handler with twenty horses, not a halter or lead in sight.”

“No way. Even the natural horsemanship
trainers have halters on the horses.”

“Not these folks,” Dave said. “You’ll have to
tell me what you think of them afterwards.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be talking about it for
months.” My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out to
check the text from Robin. “Hang on a sec, Dave. I have to
gloat.”

He laughed. “I promised your mom I’d bring
down Wyoming for class. Have fun.”

I warmed Nevada up in two classes. I kept him
at a walk and trot since we hadn’t done much on Wednesday nights
and I hadn’t ridden him the past two Saturdays. Once we finished
class, I took him out on the trails for another hour of what I
thought of as mud-surfing. Still, it wasn’t a rainy day ride. There
were only a few muddy patches that Nevada slogged through, happily
splashing in the puddles. He was ready to keep going, but not me.
My legs felt like jelly when I led him into the barn.

Tom stood in the aisle. “Hey. I was up for a
lesson so thought I’d come see you after I finished. You look
wiped. Is everything okay?”

“Are you supposed to say I look exhausted? I
thought if a guy liked you, he said you were gorgeous, no matter
what. ”

“You are.”

I eyed him. “Okay, now I know you’re pulling
my chain. You must be joking. Nevada may not be worn out, but I am.
How can I be beautiful and exhausted at the same time?”

“I don’t know, but you manage just fine.”

“All right, enough malarkey as my grandma
would say.” I led my horse into the stall. He nudged me and I dug
out a carrot. “I need to ride more.”

“Let me know when you add another twenty-four
hours to the day. I could use them too.”

I had to smile, especially when Tom came in
to help me unsaddle Nevada. “So, tell me about your lesson. How’s
Shiloh?”

“I fed her a couple carrots so she wouldn’t
hate me. I rode Summertime. It was like, wow. I graduated from an
old pickup to a sports car.”

“Tell me about it.”

He did. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard
people rave about going from steady mounts to more responsive ones.
This was different. Tom was so thrilled at the experience. He
talked about barely touching Summertime and getting a trot. “I
galloped for the first time. It was like flying. I almost forgot to
turn him and Rocky said I had to focus or he’d run into a wall. Was
she serious? Would he really?”

“Yeah, Summer is a former show horse and
whoever trained him totally broke his will. He has no sense of
self-preservation anymore.”

“
How did they do that?”

I scratched Nevada’s red neck. “Probably with
whips and spurs, lots of beatings, sleep deprivation, lack of food
and water. You can torture an animal the same way you torture a
person. It sucks and all we can do is pick up the pieces afterwards
and try to rehab Summer.”

“Lots of treats,” Tom said, “I’ll make sure
to give him lots of treats. No wonder you have lists of people you
want to
Gibbs
slap.” He handed Nevada another carrot.
“Nobody ever did that with this guy, did they?”

“We raised him from a baby and no one even
tried. The heck with the horse, beware of his owner. If you think
I’m fierce about him, my mother started his training when he was
foaled. She may act mellow, but don’t believe it.”

“I never would. She raised you, didn’t she?
And I’m sure you stomped around like Autumn and bossed
everyone.”

“Don’t tell the kid, but I was much
bossier.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were.”

I flicked him another glance, but he wasn’t
trying to be obnoxious. He sounded respectful, awe-struck even. “It
doesn’t bother you. Why not?”

“I admire strong women,” Tom said, slowly. “I
wasn’t raised by one. It’s just that if some guy told your mom that
she had to choose him over her kids, she’d throw his sorry backside
out on the street. I can see you doing the same thing. It’s
impressive.”

I nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. And you’ve
given me something to think about.”

“I have? What?”

“I never realized before that when my
stepdads left, my mom probably sent them.”

Tom didn’t say anything about that. He just
hauled my saddle and pads off to the tack-room while I started
grooming Nevada. A few minutes later, Tom returned. He picked up a
brush and began brushing the right side. He didn’t rush off when we
finished with my horse. Instead, he stayed to help with evening
chores. Some girls might not be thrilled with a guy who willing to
clean stalls and dump muck tubs, but what did they know? It meant
that I finished up my barn in less than two hours. I still had
enough energy to play fetch with Charlie, a tail-wagging good
time.

It surprised me that Tom didn’t try to kiss
me when I walked him to his car after dinner. He tugged on my braid
and promised to see me at school. Then, he was gone. I wondered
what I should do. Was I supposed to make a move on him? When or
how? It didn’t feel comfortable, not after we’d spent so much time
pitching horse poop.

I decided to let it wait. I’d give him
another week. If he still didn’t kiss me, I’d talk to my friends. I
couldn’t bring it up with my mother, not after telling her for ages
that I never planned to date anyone. Of course, I hadn’t connected
with Tom before. And I knew he liked me. He really liked me or he
wouldn’t want to take me to the Spring Fling in a couple weeks.

* * * *

Shamrock Stable, Washington

Wednesday, February
5
^th
, 2:45 pm

Our basketball practices had been intense for
the last two days. We were definitely going to be ready when
Centennial Mid-High arrived tomorrow afternoon. The last bell rang.
I snagged my sports bag and backpack, heading from the choir room
toward the gym.

Halfway down the hall, Robin caught up with
me. She grabbed my arm. “You’ve got to come home with me. Now!”

“What? Why?”

“Twaziem colicked. Dr. Larry is out of town
at a conference. My dad will be here in five minutes. Come on!”

“Time out.” I made a “T” with my hands. “How
do you know?”

“My mom just called. She’s walking him. He’s
in major stress.”

Robin pulled me in the direction of the main
doors. “I need you. Come on!”

“Hold up. I’ve got to tell Coach.” I wrenched
free. “Call Dr. Cathy Tiernan. See if you can get her or one of the
other veterinarians from the Pine Ridge clinic. Then, call your dad
back. Tell him to stop by the nearest pharmacy. I need applesauce
and gas reliever tablets. Generic simethicone, not another drug.
I’m going to crush some pills and mix them with the applesauce. If
you don’t have a big plastic syringe for me to paste Twaz with it,
tell your dad to buy one.”

“Okay.” Robin took a deep breath, pulled out
her cell phone. “Mom always keeps mineral oil on hand. She says
she’s dosed him with the muscle relaxants that Dr. Larry left, but
it’s not working. Twaz is down and she’s desperate.”

“Banamine may not work on gas colic,” I said.
“Or she may need to give it more time. Call and tell her not to let
him roll. We won’t know what’s happening until we’re in the barn.
You make like
ET
in that old movie and “phone home.” I’ll be
right back.”

Leaving Robin in the hall, I hurried to the
gym. I spotted Coach Norris pulling equipment out of the storage
closet. “Coach, I can’t practice today.”

“What are you saying? We have a big game
tomorrow.”

“I know and I’ll be here for it.” I stopped,
remembering that colic was a number one horse killer and it could
last anywhere from two to seventy-two hours. “Okay, let me
rephrase. I will do my best to be here. Robin’s horse has colic and
I have to go.”

“Oh, are you a doctor now?”

“No, I’m a horse trainer and I don’t have
time to placate you or do the stupid game where I make you think
this is all your idea.” I planted my fists on my hips and met him
glare for glare. “You want that girly crap, get it from someone
else. Here’s the deal. Robin’s rescue horse is dying. I can save
him. That’s what I do. When stuff happens, I step up.”

“Yeah, well you’re a kid. Leave it to the
adults.”

“What adults?” I demanded. “The ones coming
to get Robin because their veterinarian is out of town? The ones
thinking they can depend on me because I’ve been helping rehab this
horse for months? The ones who trust me when you don’t and never
will?”

I didn’t have any more time to fight with
him. Either he got it, or he didn’t. Since this was life and death,
I had to go. I ran for the door, ignoring him when he called my
name. Olivia was about to enter the locker room. She swung around
when she heard my footsteps. “I have to go. Robin’s horse colicked.
He’s down and the Gibsons are desperate.”