Between Hope & the Highway (12 page)

“Don’t brush Barf’s eyes. Horses don’t like that crap.” Of course, he used the bad word.

“Ship!” And his sister tried to copy him, which made him laugh.

Addie dropped the brush and stretched out below him. She reached up to explore his face, pulling his mouth in different directions and laughing when he tried to talk through squished lips. When she stuck her fingers up his nose, he grabbed her and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

“You want a piece of me?” he hollered, making her laugh hysterically.

Her whole face smiled like only a Down’s child can. “Piece a me!” Her rough, invasive tickling made him roar with laughter.

I should have left, but I couldn’t tear myself away. The precious way they interacted tugged at my heart. But Rawson chose that moment to glance over his shoulder and spot me. His scowl sucked happiness from me like an industrial strength vacuum. Our gazes locked for less than a second, but it was enough to feel his loathing flatten me like a steamroller.

I ducked and scurried down the hallway, and once outside, I sprinted to the arena. Now he would hate me even more, though I didn’t know how that was even possible. He pretty much despised me completely already.

Chapter 21

Rawson

My eyelids grew heavy as I watched the girl from my hiding spot beneath the bleachers. Even though shadows covered the indoor arena, she was still going strong. For being a lying, conniving schemer, she had an intense work ethic. What I couldn’t figure out was why she hadn’t gone to my dad and ratted me out yet. I’d been less than the ideal employee since I’d been assigned to work with her, skipping out early and pulling some kick-butt pranks. Yet she hadn’t said a word. Why?

When she finally turned off lights for the night, I crawled out from beneath the bleachers and flipped on my flashlight. Moving to Blue Boy’s stall, I unlatched his gate and dropped one of Lizzie’s gloves in the aisle. Dad would go ballistic when he discovered that Miss Ruthersford had been careless and forgotten to lock up one of the horses.

“What are you doing?”

I whipped around to be blinded by the beam of another flashlight. “Oh, hi, Benny.” I shielded my eyes.

“What are you doing?” he repeated.

“Oh, I’m just—”

“You’re trying to get Lizzie in trouble, aren’t you?”

“No.” I didn’t dare fess up since he and the girl were thick as molasses. “What are you doing out here so late?” I stepped to the side to dodge his blinding light.

He pointed his beam at the ground. “If any horse escapes, I’ll know who to blame.” He lifted an eyebrow. “And I’ll tell Dad what I just seen.”

Sometimes I hated how sharp my kid brother was. “I’ll double check all the gates to make certain they’re secure.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, big guy.” When he turned to leave, I called after him. “Ben?”

He paused.

“How did you know I was out here?”

“I followed you earlier.”

“Maybe you should be a spy when you grow up.”

He shook his head. “Goodnight, Rawson.”

“Night, Sherlock.”

After I relocked the stalls, I felt too keyed up to hit the sack. I headed to my trusty hammock instead. Without the moon, darkness reigned supreme. I didn’t notice Miss Ruthersford until I was almost on top of her. Luckily, she began to speak into her phone and I slipped behind the blue spruce.

“I know. It’s just hard.” She sniffed. “No, Daddy. I’m a big girl and can fix my own problems.”

I smirked. Big girls didn’t call their dads
Daddy
.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She sniffled again. “No, I’m not crying. I have really bad allergies up here.”

I’d never noticed her use so much as a Kleenex.

“Fine. I’ll tell you. The boss’s son returned two weeks ago and he’s a big pain in the you-know-what.”

I grinned.

“No, he’s not hitting on me. A different kind of pain. He’s lazy, rude, and makes tons of work for me.” She huffed. “If he liked me, he might be a tiny bit nice, but I just told you—he’s a big jerk. His parents stuck me in his room and he didn’t know and came barging in— No!” she cried. “Settle down, Daddy. Of course, I was dressed.”

I scoffed into my hand.

“Of course not. He’s never touched me.” She sighed. “Don’t worry. Besides him, I love everything about this place. I haven’t had time to be sad.” I could almost hear her smile.

I clenched my teeth. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

“While I have you on the phone, let me fill you in on my progress.”

I strained not to miss a word. Maybe her father was in on her scheming.

“Aunt Margery and Uncle Floyd are in; they sent me $300 to put toward the cruise. Aunt Edna only sent $25.” She giggled at whatever her
daddy
said. “Yeah, she is. Madeline and Roy promised to send $700. I still haven’t got a hold of Uncle Les, but I bet I can wheedle a few hundred from him. He loves to show off his generosity.”

She paused. “Don’t ask me to do this again. A reunion at the park’s more my style. But I know Grandpa and Grandma haven’t been on a real vacation, so hopefully they like this. Are you and Mom still planning on going with them? Okay. I’ll try to have the money to you by the end of the month.” She groaned. “No. You have to book the tickets.” Pause. “I’m not lying. I really do love it here. Miss you too, Daddy, but I’m almost twenty. I can’t be your little girl forever.” She giggled. “You’re the best. Love you too.”

As the woman—no girl! She was only nineteen for criminy’s sake—crept back inside, I stood next to the old spruce feeling sick. I compared everything she’d said last time to what she said to her daddy tonight and realized I’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. Big time. Miss Ruthersford wasn’t the monster I’d made her out to be. Still, she’d turned everything on its head around here, and I refused to make life easy for her. She’d either earn her position of trust Dad had given her or she’d run back to her daddy crying. I hoped for the latter.

Chapter 22

Bentley

A gust of wind lifted the brim of my baseball cap, making me regret not wearing my Stetson. Pulling it down, I urged Han to catch up to Lizzie’s three-year-old paint.

“How much further to the creek?” she asked.

“Quarter hour that way.” I pointed east.

We chatted over the next rise, and Liz let it slip that it was her birthday.

“Are you kidding?” I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought to ask before now. “Why didn’t you say something? Now I feel bad I didn’t get you a gift.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. I hate people feeling obligated to buy me a present. Your friendship’s my gift.”

“Lame. I’m going to paint you a picture.”

“I’ll take you up on that. I love your art.”

“How old are you now?”

“I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“You’re twenty?”

“Yep.” She grinned. “I’ve officially been alive for decades.”

I laughed and we chatted over the next rise about ways I could change my status when school started in another six weeks. I didn’t want to be known as the handicapped kid. Junior high would be a new beginning. I meant to grab hold of that for all it was worth. Liz had inspired me to get outside myself and help others. I loved her for that—not in an
I want to kiss her
kind of way, although I wouldn’t turn one down if she offered, but in a bosom friend way. That sounded sappy, but Mom put on
Anne of Green Gables
for Addie last Sunday, and I was bored enough to watch. That’s where I learned about bosom friends.

When we reached the stream, I found a rock near the bank and took my boots off to soak my feet as the horses watered. Liz stretched out beside me and closed her eyes.

I studied how strands of her hair curled about her face. She had the prettiest hair ever. It always looked different depending on the weather. Humidity turned her curls frizzy, reminding me of wisps of cotton candy. Usually, they curled into tight ringlets that bounced behind her. I’d only seen her wear it down a few times for church, and she looked beyond gorgeous then. Her curls hit her back a couple inches below her shoulders and framed her angelic face to perfection.

“You think I could go to church with you…if Rawson lets me?” For the past three months, I’d noted her Sunday routine and hoped she would ask me to tag along. I’d take any excuse to leave the house.

“Why do you need your brother’s permission?”

I shrugged. “He’s my bud.”

“Well, your bud hates my guts. So H-E-double toothpicks will have to freeze over before he okays that.”

I frowned, knowing she was right.

My arm tingled as she placed her hand on mine. “I’d love you to come, but don’t want to cause strife. If you work it out with Rawson, let me know and you can drive into town with Mackay and me.”

As she helped me onto my horse, a gust of wind grabbed my cap. “Crud,” I muttered as I watched it perform a Mexican hat dance on its way toward a tree-covered hill. “That’s my lucky Red Sox hat.”

“I’ll get it.” Lizzie jumped onto the young paint and dug her boots into its side. Shoshone balked, but she brought him under control and guided the gelding in the direction of my evasive headgear. My cap taunted her by blowing just out of reach whenever she approached. When she managed to corner it against a tree, she hopped off to snatch it.

A loud voice from the wooden shack nestled in the trees startled both of us. “Hey, baby!”

Lizzie spun around and jumped. I didn’t blame her. My brother’s friend, Damon, made an intimidating picture with his massive frame, black stringy hair hanging to his shoulders, and thick mustache that drooped over a sneering mouth. What the heck was he doing out here?

Liz grabbed my cap and turned to mount Shoshone.

“Now, hold on. Don’t go.” Damon wore a nasty grin as he draped himself over the porch railing. “You just got here, sugar. Come on in and stay a while.”

Not liking how he looked at her, I nudged Han’s side with my boots to move in front of Liz.

“Hey, howz it goin’, Benny-hana?” He snorted as though he’d said something funny. “Who’s yer purty friend?”

“Is Rawson here?” That was the only reason I could think for him being there.

He pointed behind him. “He’s still nappin’. We got a bit wild last night, if you know what I mean.” As he wheeze-laughed, I grimaced.

“Let’s get out of here.” Liz handed me my hat and mounted her horse.

As she put distance between her and Damon, I saw my brother peeking out. I nudged my horse closer my brother would know I knew he was hiding his garbage out here.

“Big Ben,” he called as he walked onto the porch and scratched his crotch. “What brings you out to this neck of the woods?”

“My hat blew away. Lizzie chased it.”

His enthusiasm cooled as he noticed her waiting by the fence.

“Roz, ask Benny’s gal to stay,” Damon whined. “She looks fun.”

My brother marched over like a tornado touching down in Kansas. “As fun as falling into a cactus.” I cringed in my saddle at he yanked the reins from my hands and tugged Han in front of Damon. “Hold him.” He shoved the reins into his friend’s hands.

“I’m not staying here.”

He ignored my protest and stalked over to Lizzie. “You have no business being out here. You need to leave. Now.”

“Don’t talk to her that way. It’s her birthday.” I struggled to grab the reins from Damon, but he lifted them above my reach.

“What about Ben?” I heard her ask.

“I’ll bring him home. Now shoo.” Rawson whacked Shoshone’s buttocks. “Yaw!”

Lizzie’s touchy mount lunged, making her scramble with the reins and hunch over to keep from falling. I clenched my fists as I watched her disappear into the trees.

“You jerk!” I kicked at Rawson as he took my reins from Damon. “Let me go. I don’t want to stay here.”

“Settle down, kid.” He tied the rope to the railing.

“Why’d you make Lizzie go?”

He hissed under his breath and wrapped an arm around Damon’s shoulders, leading him up the stairs and into the weathered log cabin. I glared at the back of his head, wishing I could dismount. But no, I had to sit and wait for him to untie my horse and lead me home like a kid at a pony party.

When he returned and we headed home, he made excuses for his friend being where he didn’t belong. “Damon and I just met up this morning. Thought we’d hang out at the homestead for old times’ sake. ”

I didn’t respond.

“Come on, Benny. Don’t be mad.”

When I still refused to speak, he shut up. At the house, he lifted me down from my horse and held me by the shoulders. “I wish you’d talk to me, kid.”

My lips curled. “I can’t believe you were hanging out with that loser.” I shrugged out of his arms and hobbled to the porch.