Star Gazer (15 page)

Jordan took a deep breath. She could feel her hands shaking on the reins. “Walk up,” Jordan said to the mare, but Candy didn't move. Jordan remembered the lecture Jacob had given her about Star Gazer not minding her. She sat up straighter and tried to make her voice sound more confident. “Walk up!” she said again, then shook the reins up and down and clucked.

Jacob pulled on the lead rope and stopped the horse.

“Uh-oh, I forgot and slapped the reins on her rump,” Jordan said.

“But, you remembered. That's good,” Jacob said. “I even heard a little more command in your voice when Candy wouldn't obey.” He handed her a driving whip. “Use your voice to tell her you mean business,” he instructed. “And if that doesn't work, tap her with this if she refuses your request.”

Jordan frowned and declined the whip. “I don't like hitting a horse. It seems mean.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “I know,” Jacob said. “My sister says the same thing. But it's only mean if you use it unfairly or with too much force. Don't think of it as a whip. Think of it as a tool to help you drive.”

She still hesitated.

Jacob sighed. “Look, Jordie, say I was standing in line behind you and I needed you to move up. If I took one finger and put a little pressure in the middle of your back, you would move forward, right?”

Jordan nodded.

“And I wouldn't have to shove you or knock you down, right?”

“Right.”

He smiled and handed her the driving whip. “Think of this as a finger poking Candy in the back. It doesn't have to hurt. It just reminds her to move forward, okay?”

Jordan took the whip, unsure how she should hold it. She already had her hands full of leather reins.

“This might take some getting used to,” Jacob cautioned. “You're going to have to hold it in your right hand along with the reins.”

Jordan rearranged the reins and whip, then signaled that she was ready to go. Jacob led Candy toward the paddock they'd worked in the day before.

Mr. Miller opened the gate. “We're going to start you here until you're used to the cart. Then we can move you out to the big pasture,” he said. “Daniel set up some orange cones for you so you can practice turns.”

Daniel poked Jacob in the ribs and a conspiratorial look passed between the two of them.

“What's with you guys?” Jordan asked, looking from one to the other. “Come on, out with it.”

Jacob waited until the horse and cart passed through the gate, then he climbed up onto the bench seat with Jordan and settled in next to her. “Daniel bet me that you'd run over at least four cones…” He paused. “And I said you'd only run over three.”

“What?” Jordan yelped. Everyone laughed and she joined in. But part of her felt a little hurt that they didn't have more faith in her.

Mr. Miller closed the gate behind them. “Jacob is going to stay in the cart with you and give you direction. If you run into problems, he can take the reins for you.”

Jordan watched as Candy's ears flicked back and forth, listening for a cue. For a split second, Jordan panicked. The horse was so big, and she was so small. But the moment passed and she picked up the reins. She had to learn the correct way to do things, for Star's benefit. The better she was able to work with Star, the better the chance of getting to keep her. Soon it could be Star Gazer's big rump she'd be trying to see over. The thought brought a big grin to her face.

An hour—and six smashed cones—later, Jordan had to admit that it was a lot more difficult than it looked. How did the boys manage to pull those long poles through all of those cones without disturbing them? She couldn't even make a turn around a cone with a whole paddock to do it in.

She walked Candy to the harnessing rack, removed her tack, and began to bathe her.

Mr. Miller patted Jordan on the back. “Don't look so down in the mouth, kid. You're doing just fine.” He tipped his hat back and gave her a fatherly smile. “The wheels stayed on the buggy, and everything—including you—is in one piece. I'd say it's a good day.”

Jordan had to agree when he put it that way. Daniel was lucky to have such a great dad. She couldn't help wondering what things would be like if her own father were still around.

She untied Candy to walk her to the pasture where her teammate stood waiting. She stopped and turned back to Mr. Miller. “I really appreciate you working with me. I hope I can be a good horsewoman someday.”

Mr. Miller handed her an apple to give to Candy. “I think you're going to be a fine horsewoman. We've got a lot of summer ahead of us, and the boys seem to enjoy teaching you. You're welcome to keep coming over if you want.”

“That would be great,” Jordan said. “I'd really like that.” She held the apple out for Candy. Unlike Star, who took the entire apple in one bite, Candy took dainty little nibbles until it was gone. “Is there something I can do to help around here? You guys are spending a lot of time on me.”

Mr. Miller removed his hat and scratched his head. “Well, I suppose you could fill water tanks. I've got the Sutton boy doing stalls.”

Jordan had almost forgotten about Tommy. She'd seen him stop several times on his way back and forth to the manure pile to watch her driving lesson. She hoped he hadn't witnessed her running over the cones. She tugged on Candy's lead rope and walked her out to the pasture.

“In about ten minutes, Mrs. Miller has a treat for everyone,” Mr. Miller called. “We'll meet in front of the barn.”

Jordan put Candy to pasture and started on the water troughs while Daniel and Jacob cleaned tack. She dragged the hose to the first stall. As she filled the tank, she daydreamed about driving Star Gazer. She didn't look up until she heard the wheelbarrow roll by.

“Nice driving, McKenzie,” Tommy said in his best sarcastic tone. “Only six cones down? Amazing. I'm really looking forward to watching you and that lame mare beat my dad in the pulling contest.” He laughed all the way to the next stall.

Jordan gritted her teeth. Why did he have to rub it in? She already felt self-conscious enough about her less than stellar horse skills and driving abilities. But then it occurred to her that Tommy wasn't exactly one to be talking about driving skills after the accident he and his friend had caused. She opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated.

Tommy frowned, staring at her like he could read her thoughts. “Go ahead. Say what you were thinking.”

Jordan shook her head. She wasn't going to let Tommy bait her. But the smarmy look on his face pushed her over the edge. “I think you—”

“What's going on here?” Jacob interrupted the tongue-lashing she was about to give Tommy.

“Everything okay?” he asked, walking straight for them. He looked first at Jordan, but his eyes came to rest on Tommy.

The Sutton boy puffed up his chest and stepped away from the wheelbarrow. “What? You going to beat me up if things aren't okay?”

“Give it a break, Tommy,” Jacob said.

The boy gave a mean laugh. “Oh, that's right. You Amish boys don't like to fight.” He moved a step closer.

When Jacob came forward, Tommy retreated a couple of steps. “It's not that I
won't
fight,” Jacob said. “It's just that there's a better way. Don't confuse the two. And I'm
not
Amish.”

Tommy stared at him for a few moments. “You sure dress like one.” When Jacob didn't respond to the comment, Tommy snorted and pushed the wheelbarrow to a stall at the end of the aisle.

“Hey,” Jordan called after him. “Mr. Miller wants everyone out front in ten minutes.”

Tommy didn't even acknowledge her words.
Well, it's probably better if he doesn't come anyway
. Jordan thought.
I'll never
understand that jerk
. She returned to her job filling the tank.

After Jacob left, Tommy rolled his wheelbarrow back to the stall next to Jordan. He set the cleaning fork down, then stood there staring at her, his mouth drawn into a hard line. Jordan felt her face flush and she looked away.

“Your watchdog isn't here now,” Tommy said. “Why don't you go ahead and finish what you were going to say?”

Jordan thought about ignoring him, then she considered spraying him down with the hose she held in her hand. The thought made her grin.

“What are you smiling about?” Tommy said. “There's nothing funny here. I'm forced to work for a bunch of throwbacks who still plow their land with horses.”

Jordan cocked her head, confused. “Your dad owns the biggest Percheron farm in the area.”

“So? He also owns a brand new John Deere tractor. That's what we use to plow our fields—not stupid horses.” Tommy picked up the cleaning fork. “I've got better things to do with my time than shoveling manure for these yahoos. Or talking to you.” He marched off down the barn aisle, leaving the wheelbarrow sitting there.

“You really don't get it, do you?” she yelled at him. Her common sense told her to stop right there. Tommy came from the foremost family in town, and despite being such a jerk, he seemed to be popular. She was the new kid in town. If she made a total enemy of him, he could make her life miserable at school next fall.

Tommy looked back at her with total disdain, like
she
was the one who had done something wrong. He'd harmed her friends and her horse and it didn't seem to matter to him. Jordan decided she couldn't take it anymore.

“You did a really bad thing, Tommy,” Jordan said, looking him right in the eye. “Don't you get it? People could have been killed in that accident.” She pulled the hose out of the overflowing trough and kinked it. “Your friend is in jail because of what you guys did. I would think you'd be glad that you got off with an easy punishment like cleaning horse stalls.”

Jordan walked past him to turn off the hose. Her hands shook so badly that she had trouble turning the shut-off valve. She stopped just outside the barn door and took three big calming breaths, then went up to the front lawn to wait with the others. Tommy Sutton was a hardheaded fool. She'd rather spend her time with good people.

Daniel's siblings were all there when she arrived. The two youngest kids ran and played tag, while Daniel's sister sat primly in a lawn chair. She was older than Jordan, but she spoke to her politely and made her feel welcome.

Mrs. Miller came through the front door with a big tray. Jacob and Daniel ran to help her. Jordan's mouth watered when she saw all the treats: cookies, sweet bread, watermelon slices, and a big pitcher of lemonade.

Mrs. Miller wore a plain, modest blue dress and a comfortable-looking pair of flat shoes. Her clothing reminded Jordan of photos she'd seen of her grandmother as a kid.

“It looks as if we're missing someone,” Mrs. Miller said. She set down the tray and poured the lemonade into tall glasses. “Where's the Sutton boy?”

“Sulking in the barn,” Jacob said through a big mouthful of sweet bread.

Jordan accepted a cold glass of lemonade and thanked Daniel's mother. “I told him we were meeting here. I guess he didn't want to come.”

“If he doesn't want to come, let him stay where he is,” Daniel said, taking a handful of butter cookies.

“Now, boys…” Mrs. Miller gave them a stern look. “It's not nice to think unkind thoughts.” She glanced toward the barn, like she could see through it to where Tommy was sulking. “Perhaps someone should take him some food. He's worked hard today. Would you like to make him up a plate, Jordan?”

Not really,
Jordan thought, but she nodded and filled one of the small paper plates with a sampling of the treats. She grabbed a napkin and headed for the barn.

“Jordan, wait,” someone called.

When Jordan turned back, she was surprised to see Jacob striding toward her with a tall glass of lemonade in his hand. “What's up?” she asked.

Jacob handed her the glass and shrugged. “He might be a real pain, but Tommy worked pretty hard today. He's probably thirsty.” He paused a moment. “Are you okay? Do you want me to go with you?”

Jordan shook her head and Jacob returned to his lawn chair.

She smiled to herself. Jacob seemed to practice what he preached. She wasn't sure she'd be so forgiving if Tommy had recklessly crashed into their car.

Inside the barn, the temperature was much cooler. Flies buzzed lazily and sparrows chirped in the rafters. Spotting the wheelbarrow at the end of the aisle, Jordan walked in that direction. She stopped outside the stall that Tommy was cleaning.

He paused with his pitchfork in midair. “What do
you
want?”

With that snarky tone in his voice, what Jordan wanted was to dump his cookies in the wheelbarrow and walk off. But she tried to follow Jacob's example and pasted a pleasant look on her face. “Mrs. Miller made some really good treats,” she said, holding out the plate, “and she wanted to make sure you had some of them before the rest of the kids polished them off. Jacob poured you a glass of lemonade.”

Tommy leaned the fork against the wall and stepped out into the aisle. “Oh, he did, did he?” He eyed the food suspiciously. “Well, I don't want it.” He crossed his arms and glared at her.

Jordan sighed. “Tommy…”

“
Tommy
,” he said, mimicking her in a whiny girl voice.

Jordan's shoulders slumped. “Why are you so mean?”

Tommy laughed, but it didn't sound friendly. “Hey, I'm shoveling manure for a bunch of people I don't like. It's hot out here, the flies are eating me alive, and you think I should be happy that you brought me a few cookies?”

“I think you don't see what is plainly in front of your eyes because you're too busy complaining,” she said. “I think you need to get over yourself!
That's
what I think.”

She turned and walked away, so upset that her hands were shaking. She almost dropped the plate of sweets, and her arm felt sticky from the lemonade that had sloshed over the rim of the glass. She should have known better than to even try with a knot-head like Tommy.