Horse Dreams (8 page)

Colt turns to me. “Are you going?”

I frown at him. “What do you think?”

He nods and walks off.

I catch up with him outside our classroom. “Colt! Are you going to the horse show or not? Can I ride with you?”

“'Course.” Colt makes a face. “Girls,” he mutters, shuffling into class.

“Boys,” I mumble, edging past him to get there first.

* * *

Saturday afternoon I wait outside for Colt's family to pick me up. I'm dressed in my cowboy boots, jeans, and a plaid Western shirt. If I can't be in the horse show, at least I can look the part.

Mom and Dad and Ethan file by me on their way to the car. I give Ethan a thumbs-up on his Cub Scout uniform. He gives me a thumbs-up on my cowboy gear.

“Are you sure you'll be all right until we get home?” Dad asks.

I point to the Stevenses' car backing out of their drive. “Here they come now.” I wave good-bye to my family and jog across the street.

Colt motions me into the backseat with him. Mrs. Stevens is driving. No Mr. Stevens and no Sierra. “Thanks again for the lift,” I tell her.

Colt's mom looks like she's going to a board meeting instead of a horse show. Her hair is twisted into a fancy knot, and she's wearing a blue suit with a straight skirt.

“You look nice, Mrs. Stevens.”

“Thank you, Ellie,” she says. “And you look . . . very horsey.”

I'm not sure if that's a compliment, but I thank her just in case. “Isn't Mr. Stevens coming?” I'd ask about Sierra, but Colt's sister says horses are for little kids.

Colt's mom laughs—at least I think it's a laugh. Actually, it sounds a little more like a snort.

“Dad didn't make it home this weekend,” Colt explains. “Anyway, he doesn't really like horse shows.”

His mother mutters something under her breath, but I don't catch it. I think I'm glad I didn't hear.

Colt glances at me, then stares out the window. The sun is still out, but a bank of gray clouds is moving in.

“I sure hope it doesn't rain,” I say. Four years ago the horse show got rained out.

I can't stand the silence in this car. I never know what to say around Colt's parents. Colt told me once that my parents are easier to talk to than his. Even for him.

“Um . . . it's nice that you like horse shows, Mrs. Stevens,” I try. “I wish my parents did.”

“Right,” she says, giving me the same snort-laugh as before.

Colt explains in sign language, keeping his hands where his mom can't see in the rearview mirror.
Mom hates horses. She's only going because her boss has a daughter in the show.

I nod. I'm pretty sure my dad doesn't know that Ms. Warden has a daughter in the horse show.

How come Mrs. Stevens knows about the boss's daughter and my dad doesn't? What else does she know that Dad doesn't? What else is she doing to make sure
she
gets that promotion and my dad does not?

13

Showtime

Mrs. Stevens turns us loose on the horse show grounds and tells us to come to the car after the show is over. That's the great thing about living in a small town like Hamilton. Our parents know that other kids' parents will keep an eye on us.

Colt and I leave Mrs. Stevens putting on more makeup in her rearview mirror.

“Let's claim our seats!” Colt shouts as he takes off running.

“Wait up!” I holler. “Let's check out the horses first.”

He stops and comes back. “Good idea.”

At least he's not dumping me for his buddies. Then again, Colt's buddies wouldn't be caught dead at a horse show.

We thread our way through the maze of horse trailers parked on the fairgrounds. Most of the license plates are Missouri and Kansas. But we spot Iowa, Illinois, and Kentucky too.

“There's Ashley! And her new hunter!” Colt leads the way to the Harpers' four-horse trailer.

The bay gelding is tied to one side of the trailer. He cranes his royal neck around, taking it all in. It's noisy around here, with horses neighing, people shouting, and music blaring from the speakers. But he doesn't seem nervous.

Ashley's hunter, Hancock's Warrior, is about the most beautiful horse I've ever seen up close. If he were black and a stallion, he might even be my dream horse.

Ashley steps out of the truck cab, where she changes her outfits for different classes. She looks like she's stepping off the cover of
Horse & Rider
. “Hi, Colt! Hey, Ellie. I'm so glad you guys came. I'm getting really nervous.”

Colt and I tell her how fantastic her hunter is. We ask her about the classes she has entered. She answers all our questions, but I get the feeling we're more excited about the show than she is.

“Hey, you two!” Mr. Harper walks up, carrying two plastic cups. He hands one to Ashley, and she takes a sip. “Ellie, we were just talking about you,” he says.

“About me?”

“I was thinking that maybe next year you'd like to ride one of our horses in the horsemanship class.”

“Are you kidding?” I can't believe he's saying this. It wouldn't be the same as showing my own horse, but it would be pretty sweet. Every horse Mr. Harper owns is a show horse. Each one comes from a long line of winners. “That would be unbelievable!”

I glance at Ashley, and she's grinning. “Dad says you're his star pupil.”

His star pupil? Even if they're just saying that to make me feel good, it works.

Then I notice Colt. “What about Colt, Mr. Harper?”

“I was just getting to that.” He turns to Colt. “You've been doing great with Galahad. Do you think you'd like to work him on the barrels? See if you could get him ready by next year?” Galahad is their young quarter horse gelding. He's an easy ride, and Colt likes riding Western.

Colt's eyes shout,
Wow!
But he shrugs. “Sure. That would be all right.”

“Good! You two keep practicing. By next year Ashley's going to have some stiff competition.”

“Dad,” Ashley scolds.

“I'd better get to work.” Her dad disappears inside the trailer. When he comes out, he's leading Ashley's three-gaited mare, Cindy Lou. This is the horse she'll ride when she competes against Larissa and Custer's Darling Delight.

“We'd better go,” I say because I know they need to get ready. “We'll be cheering for you.”

“Thanks, you guys,” Ashley calls after us.

As we leave to find seats, I try not to be jealous. I tell God I'm sorry for wishing I could be Ashley right now and have the horses she has. Even though God already knows how I feel, it helps me to tell him. Then I add,
And thanks for Mr. Harper wanting me to ride his horse. But would You please let me have my own horse to ride in the show next year?

Right before the show starts, Colt points across the arena. “There's Larissa.”

Larissa is decked out in an English riding habit. The number one is pinned to her shirt.

“I wonder how she managed to get
that
number,” I whisper to Colt.

“Why don't you ask her?” Colt teases. “She's coming our way.”

I can't believe it when Larissa crosses the arena and struts right up to us. She leans over the top rail and smiles at Colt. “Hi, Colt. Thanks for coming to watch me.”

Larissa acts like she's only now noticing I'm there. “So, Ellie, I hear you're finally getting rid of that spotted horse.”

14

Lost Again

“What did you just say, Larissa?” I demand.

“I said I hear you're getting rid of that spotted horse.” This time when she says it, she makes a face like the words taste bad.

“What are you talking about?”

“They're shipping that nag out to some animal farm,” she explains. “My uncle owns the trucking line that's supposed to haul shelter horses around. He told me that horse is bound for New Jersey.”

“Wait.” I try to wrap my mind around that.
New Jersey? Do they even
have
horses in New Jersey?
“I think you've got it wrong. My mom would have said something.”

She shrugs. “Maybe she doesn't know yet. Whatever.” She sticks a pin in her hair. “But they
are
getting rid of that spotted horse tomorrow.” She starts off. “I have to go.”

“Wait!” I want more details.

Larissa keeps walking.

“Why didn't anybody tell me?” I mutter.

“Why would they?” Colt asks. “It's not your problem.”

“I know.” In my mind I can see the pinto turning to watch me every time I leave the barn. I shove the picture out of my head, but it's hard to do.

“Ellie, what do
you
care?” Colt asks.

“I don't. You're right. I just wanted to make sure the pinto was going to a good home. But it's not my problem.”

“At least the horse isn't headed for animal control, right?” Colt waves across the arena. “There's Ashley!”

The first class is the Hunter/Jumper Youth class. There are only four entries, and Warrior wins easily. Ashley clears every jump except one.

Colt and I sit through the Western Pleasure Open, the English Pleasure Open, and the Twelve and Under Three-Gaited English Country Pleasure class, which Larissa and Custer's Darling Delight win. First out of a field of twelve.

Finally they call in the Twelve and Under Horsemanship class. This is the one where Larissa and Ashley ride against each other. I think it's the best class in the entire horse show.

As I've done every year, I imagine myself in the arena:

Ellie James rides in on her spirited coal-black stallion. They trot as one around the ring. The crowd . . .

Only I can't do it.

Every time I imagine myself on my dream horse, a horrible thing happens. He changes into . . . a pinto. The pinto.

I shake my head and try again . . . and again. But I can't get that scrawny pinto out of my head. It's no use. I can't stay here. Not even for the horsemanship class.

“Colt?”

“Shh. They're lining up, Ellie. The judge is about to—”

“I have to go.”

He still hasn't turned around. “Go where?”

I stand. “Tell your mother I found another way home.”

“What? Where—?”

But I don't stick around—not even to see who wins the horsemanship trophy.

I have to see that pinto one last time.

* * *

By the time I reach the cat farm, it's getting dark. Swarms of cats prance out to rub against my ankles.

I listen for the pinto's nicker, but I don't hear it. “Hello? Pinto horse?”

No answer.

I pull the string for the barn's overhead light. Long shadows dance across the barn floor. Slanty cat eyes glow like fireflies on a dark night.

“Pinto?” I call, wishing I'd gone ahead and named her like Ethan suggested.

I walk toward her stall. The wood floor creaks with every click of my boots. “I'm coming, girl.”

But when I reach the corner stall, she isn't there.

The pinto is gone.

15