Jumper (5 page)

I blinked back tears. I'd lost Rosie. Lost her! She was
mine
. My throat was so clogged I couldn't speak.

“I'm sorry, Reese.” Grandpa squeezed my shoulder. “I didn't think the bidding would go so high for her.”

“It's all right,” I said thickly. “I only had four hundred and ten dollars. I didn't even have enough when you put in your last bid.”

“I know. I was willing to help you out with the money. But I could've done a bit more, maybe.”

“No, Grandpa. You've helped me a lot already. I don't want to take your money too.” I knew that while Grandpa had enough, he sure didn't have a lot of extras. Most of what he earned went back into the ranch.

Grandpa nodded. “We could stay. Bid on another horse. There's certainly a lot to choose from.”

I shook my head. “It wouldn't be the same. I wanted her and no other.”

“I know,” Grandpa said softly, and I knew he really did know. Horses were like friends, like people. They couldn't just be replaced. “We could find out who the new owners are and offer to buy her from them,” he said.

“But we'd have to offer them more money,” I objected. “And I don't have it.”

“Well, it wouldn't hurt to see what they have to say. Maybe if they know you're interested, they'll change their minds. Especially if they get her home and have a tough time breaking her.” Grandpa gave me
a sly grin and I couldn't help but laugh, as dismal as I felt.

“All right,” I agreed. I trailed after Grandpa, behind the corral, to a makeshift pen where the horses that had been sold were being roped and loaded into waiting trailers. The thought of driving the old truck back to the ranch with an empty trailer made my throat squeeze shut again.

Rosie was there. She whickered nervously at the sight of the cowboys with the rope. She tossed her head, but there was nowhere for her to run. I knew a halter would have been safer and more comfortable for her, but haltering an unbroken, fully grown horse was a tricky business. One of the men managed to slip the lasso over her head and tighten it around her neck. When she felt the rope, she fought fiercely, shaking her head and bracing her back feet.

“Whoa, there! Whoa!” yelled the cowboy. My heart ached. “Open the trailer door. I'll slacken the rope and see if she'll go in,” the cowboy called to the trailer's owner.

When the trailer door was swung wide, Rosie spotted it as a possible escape route. The windows of the trailer made it appear open at the far side, so it didn't look like the dead end that it was. Rosie headed for it right away, and when she was safely inside, the owner swung the door shut.

Rosie's hooves made ringing thuds on the door as soon as she realized she was trapped, but that wasn't what startled me. It was the owner of the trailer.

It was Jim Bellamy.

“You are a giant pain in the butt,” I said, a week after the auction, as I surveyed the mess Boots had just made. She'd been searching for carrots in my tack bag and managed to strew all of my riding kit over the stable floor, then step on it as well.

I began picking up my stuff and shoving it back in the bag. I was already dressed for my lesson, but I still needed my half-chaps, since I was wearing short boots, and now they had
horse manure smeared all over them. “Nice,” I told Boots.

She didn't care. She nipped at me, impatient for the carrots that she could smell but hadn't found.

“No way, sweetheart,” I said sharply. “You'll get treats when you work for them and not before.”

Boots laid back her ears at my tone. She danced sideways, clattering her hooves in warning on the concrete floor.

“Forget it. I'm not putting up with any of your attitude today,” I told her. “So you'd just better behave or there'll be trouble. I've got enough to deal with without you.”

That was the truth. I was still upset about losing Rosie. Funny, since she had never really been mine. I'd never even gotten the chance to get close to her, let alone touch her. But still, I felt as though I'd lost something important, something that I knew I had a lot of hopes for.

Grandpa had talked to Jim Bellamy, but I'd known it was no use. Bellamy wouldn't sell, and even if he did, he would want more money
than I could afford. My mom and dad didn't want to give me any more—they'd already paid for riding lessons and all my tack, plus they had agreed to help pay for Rosie's feed and vet bills. I couldn't ask them for more.

I stepped into the stall to grab the saddle blanket that had fallen down when Boots had been nosing around. I stood up in a hurry when I heard Kayla's voice—angry and clipped.

“No way, Mom. That's totally unfair!”

There was a pause. I waited for someone to answer—presumably her mother—but there was no response. Then Kayla spoke again.

“But you and Dad never even made it to my last horse show! All you ever care about are your fancy friends and their stupid dinner parties,” she whined.

Pause.

I finally figured out what was going on— Kayla was talking on her cell phone.

“I don't care!” Kayla shouted. “I'm not going, and you can't make me!” I heard the snap of the cell phone being closed and then Kayla stomped past Boots's stall. She didn't
even notice me at first, but it was pretty obvious when she brought Twilight out and saw me standing there that I'd heard everything.

“Sorry,” I said awkwardly.

Kayla looked away and began grooming Twilight. “It doesn't matter.” She pressed her lips into a tight line.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Kayla said. She leaned into the currycomb, making Twilight snort. She looked at me. “It's nothing.”

“Sure. Right.” I turned back to Boots and began to tack up. We worked in silence for a few minutes. Then Kayla spoke again.

“My mom wants me to skip my lesson on Saturday and go with them to visit some boring friends that my dad is trying to do business with,” she said.

“You don't have to explain,” I answered.

“I know, but it makes me so mad.” Kayla threw her saddle on Twilight and cinched the girth. “There is no way I'm missing a lesson—especially for some dumb cocktail party. They just don't understand how important riding is to me.”

“Looks to me like they understand plenty,” I retorted. “You're acting like a spoiled little kid.”

“What?” Kayla stared at me.

“Look at you! You have the best saddle, the fanciest tack, the nicest clothes and a fantastic horse. Seems like your parents must care a lot about your riding to spend that kind of money.”

Kayla snorted. “That's what you think. Spending money means nothing to them. It's all about the show.” She glanced at me sideways, her jaw hard. “And I
don't
mean horse shows.”

“Huh?” I said.

“It looks good, their daughter being in show jumping, and it's something for them to brag about to their friends. But they couldn't care less about how I do when I compete with Twilight.” Kayla frowned, her voice bitter.

She finished getting Twilight ready in silence. I really didn't know what to say. I always thought Kayla had everything—this was a bit of a shock.

“I still think you're spoiled,” I muttered.

Kayla ignored me, took Twilight's reins and led him toward the arena. “See you in the ring,” she said, without looking back.

Several weeks later, Kayla and I still weren't talking to each other. Our friendship wasn't exactly blooming. I strapped on my helmet, ready for another riding lesson, but my heart wasn't in it. Boots and I just didn't have it together, and I was beginning to believe that there wasn't much point in trying anymore.

“Hey, Reese,” Laurel called, striding through the stable with a horse blanket over
one arm. “Weren't you at that wild horse auction about a month ago?” She stopped beside Boots.

“Yeah. Why?” I slung the saddle over Boots's back and tightened the girth.

“There's an article about it in the newspaper.” Laurel's face was grimmer than usual. “They're saying that some people are selling those horses for slaughter.”

“
What!
” I shrieked. Boots pulled violently at her halter, startled at my voice. I caught her head and made soft shushing noises until she was quiet. “What are you talking about?” I asked Laurel in a whisper.

“It's a big scandal. Apparently some business guys—big ranchers or something—used other people's names to bid on the horses. How many were you allowed to buy?”

“I'm not sure. Three...five, maybe. Not very many.”

“Well, some of these guys bought, like, fifty or more. And they've sold them to the slaughterhouses.”

I felt sick, and Laurel looked about as bad as I felt. Anyone who loves horses doesn't like
to see them hurt, but this was beyond horrible. To have those mustangs running free, then captured by men only to be slaughtered...I thought I might throw up.

“Did you get one?”

“One...what?” I said, my throat so constricted I could barely speak.

“A horse,” Laurel said impatiently. “Did you get one of the wild horses?”

“No. No, I didn't,” I answered.

“Why not?” Laurel eyed me curiously.

“The mare I wanted was sold to someone else,” I said, my voice curt.

“Oh.” Laurel bit her lip. “That's too bad. She's probably in good hands, though. I'm sure whoever bought her will take great care of her.”

My hands went numb—I couldn't feel the halter, even though I was gripping it like a lifeline. Boots snorted warningly, but I didn't step back, didn't release her. I just stared at Laurel as blinding realization struck.

Jim Bellamy was not the kind of person who would take good care of Rosie. He was, however, exactly the kind of person
who would sell her for meat if it made him enough money.

Now I really did feel sick.

“Are you okay?” Laurel asked. “You're white to the ears.”

“Um...no. Could you untack Boots for me?” I asked. “I think I'm going to have to skip the lesson.”

“Sure.” Laurel looked concerned, but she took the lead rope and retied Boots to the post.

“Could I use your phone?” I said.

“Of course. It's in the office. The door's open.” Laurel unbuckled the girth and slid the saddle off Boots's back.

I began to walk away. Then I thought of something and turned back. “Hey, Laurel?”

“Yeah?”

“How much money would someone get for horsemeat?”

Laurel paused, pursing her lips in thought. “Well, I'm no expert, but I think for a good-sized horse, anywhere from eight to around twelve hundred dollars.”

Twelve hundred dollars! I swallowed.
“Thanks,” I said. If Bellamy had purchased more horses, and he spent around five hundred a horse—which he didn't, I'm sure...my bidding had driven the price up on Rosie—he could make a profit of at least seven hundred dollars per horse. If he bought ten horses, that was seven thousand dollars!

I had to call Grandpa right away. If Bellamy had a chance to make that kind of money, he'd take it. I knew he would. And Rosie would end up—my head began to ache and I squeezed my eyes shut against the horrifying image that kept intruding. I would not let that happen to her. I had no idea what I was going to do yet, but I would think of something. I had to.

The phone rang persistently, but no one answered. “Rats!” I slammed the receiver down and tried to think. How could I find out if Bellamy actually intended to slaughter those horses?

“Something wrong?” Kayla poked her head in the office door.

I closed my eyes. Kayla was absolutely the last person on earth I wanted to see right now.

“Reese?” Kayla persisted.

I opened my eyes. “Look, Kayla. No offense, but I've got some things going on right now and I really don't need you hassling me, okay?”

“Who's hassling you?” Kayla said. “I was looking for Laurel.”

I took a deep breath and tried to marshal my thoughts. Think of Rosie. How can I save Rosie? “Sorry, Kayla, but I could use a little help.”

“What?” Kayla blinked in confusion. “First you blast me and now you need my help? Reese, are you okay?”

“
Why
does everyone keep asking me that?” I yelled. “Yes, I'm okay. I'm fine. Everything's fine. I just need to
think
for a minute. Is that too much to ask?” I was ashamed to find tears leaking out of my eyes. I brushed them away impatiently, expecting Kayla to get mad, maybe stomp out of the office.

Instead she pulled over Laurel's extra chair, took off her helmet and sat down.

“What's wrong?” she asked. Her voice, if not exactly gentle, was at least sincere.

I gulped and then the whole story poured out. Kayla sat frozen when I finished.

“You think Bellamy will really...” She trailed off.

I nodded. “I'm sure of it. I just need to prove it. My grandpa will help, I know he will, but he's not home. So how am I supposed to get the proof?”

Kayla smiled wickedly. “That's easy.”

“How?” I demanded.

“Phone the slaughterhouse.”

“What?”
I gripped the edge of the table.

“How many can there be?” Kayla spread her hands in an innocent gesture. “Phone information, get the number, call them, pretend to be Bellamy's secretary confirming the delivery or something and bingo! Either they tell you that there's no delivery scheduled or they tell you when it is. Easy.”

My mouth was hanging open. “Are you kidding?”

“No. Don't be such a weenie. Haven't you ever made prank phone calls before?”

“Not since they invented call display,” I said tartly, stung by the insult.

“Good point. Here, use my cell. The number won't come up.” Kayla dug into her jacket pocket and handed me a sleek black phone.