Silver Spurs (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Kate and Tori didn't discuss what happened after Melissa left, but it was all Kate could think about for the next few days. She made a point of avoiding Melissa when she could and being nice to her when she couldn't, but nothing helped. Was Melissa a snob who only cared about herself, or a girl with something going on inside that made her lash out at people around her? Kate couldn't figure it out. She wasn't sure she even wanted to, but it bugged her all the same.

She sat on her bed Sunday afternoon, happy she'd gotten to ride Capri after church, but something was missing. Maybe she should start praying for Melissa. But how? And what about? That God would make her nicer? That He'd fix whatever was wrong? She shook her head, her braid swinging. She didn't have a clue.

Someone rapped at her door, and she looked up. “Who is it?”

“Your mother. May I come in?”

“Sure.” Kate waited till her mom entered the room. “What's up? Do you need help with supper?”

She perched on the edge of the bed by Kate. “That's very kind of you, and yes, I will in a while. But your dad and I noticed you've been awfully quiet lately. Anything you want to talk about?”

“Naw. Thanks for asking, though. Is that all you wanted?” She clenched her hands into fists, wishing she could pour everything out to her mom the way she had when she was little. But she was thirteen now, not a baby. She needed to figure this out on her own.

“There's one other thing, and I hope it will make you feel better.” Her mom's hazel eyes smiled into Kate's. “Mrs. Jamison talked to Dad and me. Apparently the hunter-jumper show that was supposed to be held in a big field on the edge of town needs to find a new location. It's not a big show, but it's on the circuit for earning points toward regionals. They hate to cancel it, and the only other barn with an indoor and outdoor arena large enough is booked.”

“So …?” Kate held her breath, hoping she'd figured out what might be coming. “Did she ask if we could hold it here?” She rose onto her knees and bounced on the bed, barely able to contain her excitement. “That would be so cool! We'll do it, right? Please, Mom!”

Her mother held up her hand, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Slow down, Kate. It would mean a lot of work. It would help to get our name out to people who don't know we're open, and part of the entry fees would go to us for hosting it, but it's a huge undertaking. And we only have three weeks.”

“Three weeks? Yikes!” Kate sank against her pillow. “What all would we have to do?”

“The committee handles all the advertising, but we'd need to have the stalls we're not using cleaned out and bedded. The pastures would have to be cross-fenced with temporary hot-wire tape so horses could be turned out, since there's no way we'll have enough stalls. A lot of the owners will keep their horses tied to their trailers, but not everyone wants to do that. Plus, general cleanup and sprucing up areas we haven't gotten to yet.”

Kate gave a slow nod, remembering Melissa's retort. “Maybe we tried to open too soon. I guess there's still a lot to do, even though I thought we were ready.”

“Yes, and I'm glad you can see that. We were all caught in the excitement of taking in boarders and getting a trainer, and we probably shouldn't have rushed, but that's in the past. Right now we have to decide if we can tackle this new project.” Her eyes shone, but Kate could see her mother wavering.

“I say yes, and I'll bet Tori and Colt will both help too. Maybe we'd even make enough to buy a lesson horse that Tori could use. What does Dad think?”

Her mother smiled. “He says it's up to us girls. He'll do all he can to help us get ready, and he'll watch Pete during the show. We have a little extra money right now, so we can buy nicer jumps for the competition. The committee provides all the ribbons and the top prize, a set of English silver spurs to the person with the highest points overall.”

“Silver spurs?” Kate breathed the words. “Awesome. I'm all for it. How about you, Mom?” She waited, hardly daring to hope. Her first show. She wasn't ready to jump, but she could compete in the flat classes like hunt-seat, equitation, or English pleasure, and she might even have a chance at a ribbon or two.

Mom grinned and drew Kate into a hug. “I say if you're up for it, so am I. You've been a trooper doing so much work around here. We're going to make this barn a success! Just pray we don't have any accidents and that nothing goes wrong. Having a rated show at our barn is an awesome opportunity, and we don't want to blow it.”

Two nights later, Kate was in her pajamas trying to read over the screaming wind. She'd just hung up the phone after telling Tori they'd bought new jumps, and the show would for sure be at their barn.

The weather forecast had called for high winds, but she hadn't expected anything like this. At least living in Odell they'd missed some of the stronger winds that tore through the Columbia River Gorge that acted like a funnel, either directing winds to the east toward the desert or west toward Portland. Either way, they could be brutal.

The windsurfers loved the wind, but Kate was already tired of it. She'd heard that midsummer was better, and spring through early summer was the worst. She hoped that was the case.

All of a sudden, something crashed outside, not terribly far from the house. It almost sounded like an explosion. Kate jumped from her bed and raced to her door. She yanked it open and hollered down the stairs. “Mom? Dad? What was that? Is everything okay?”

She heard the front door slam, and boots thudded down the front porch stairs. Kate clumped downstairs, praying the barn and horses were fine. “Mom? Did Dad go outside? Is Pete still asleep, or did it wake him up?”

Her mother met her in the living room, worry clouding her face. “I'm not sure what's going on. Pete can sleep through almost anything, but I'll go check anyway. Your dad took the big flashlight and went outside to look around.”

Kate headed for the front door. No way was she getting left behind if something exciting had happened—especially not if Capri or any of the other horses were in danger. She reached for the front door with one hand and her coat hanging on a peg with the other.

“Hold it, young lady.” Her mother grabbed Kate's shoulder and swung her around. “You're not to go outside. Dad's orders. Wait for him to come in.” Kate opened her mouth to protest, but her mom insisted. “No argument. Promise me now, or I'll make
you
go check on Pete, and I'll stay here.” She had that determined glint in her eyes that Kate knew so well.

“All right. Fine. I promise. But I don't like it. What if Capri is hurt?” She ran to a front window and looked out toward the barn, but no moon shone, and it was pitch-dark. She could see a flashlight beam bobbing not far away, but she didn't see what had caused the teeth-jarring noise.

“Your dad will tell us as soon as he gets in. Until then, stay put.” She shook her finger at Kate. “I'll be right back. I don't see how Pete could sleep through all this racket.”

Kate continued to peek out the window, dying to know what was happening. Would Mom freak if she opened the front door and hollered at Dad? Probably. She'd better not push her luck, especially since she didn't know if it was safe to step outside. But what if Capri was seriously hurt? She didn't care about the show or anything else right now. As long as Capri was okay, she'd give up entering every competition for the rest of her life.

She closed her eyes. “Please, God. Please, please, please. Let Capri and all the other horses be safe.” Footsteps echoed on the front porch, and her eyes flew open in the hope that God had answered her prayer.

When she jerked open the door, Dad almost tumbled inside, with his arm extended and a surprised look on his face. “Dad! How's Capri? Is she safe? How about the rest of the horses? What was that awful sound? Did something explode?”

Mom rushed into the room without Pete and stopped beside Kate. She wrapped her arm around Kate's shoulders. “Slow down, honey. Give your dad a chance to catch his breath.”

Dad shrugged out of his coat. “Capri is fine, and so are the rest of the horses. No damage to the barn, thankfully.”

Kate expelled a hard breath. “Thank You, God.” Her mother raised her brows. “I mean it, Mom. I prayed while you were upstairs. I'm so glad the horses aren't hurt.” She refocused on her father. “So what exploded?”

“Our big fir tree that's been dying. I should have taken it down, but I kept putting it off. The wind was so strong, it broke off the top half of the tree, and it landed on the outdoor arena.”

“Oh no!” Mom covered her mouth with her hand. “How bad is it?”

He met her gaze with a steady one of his own. “Not good, but I can't tell for sure in the dark. It took out some of the fence, and it's on top of a number of the jumps.”

“The old ones or the new ones we bought today?”

“I won't know till tomorrow.”

Kate groaned. “What are we going to do? The show is in three weeks. All the jumping classes are supposed to take place in the outdoor arena, since the flat classes are indoors. And we have to have the jumps, or we won't have a show!” She grabbed her coat, then reached for the flashlight.

Her dad put his hand over hers. “Not tonight, Kate. There's nothing we can do. Without good light, we can't see anything. And it would be too easy to get hurt if we tried. I don't know if the tree is stable, or if it's hanging up on something and could roll or fall. We don't go near it until morning. Understood?”

Kate nodded, but it took all her willpower not to snatch the light and race out to check for herself. They couldn't cancel the show, they just couldn't! This might be their only opportunity to get included in a rated show. She was pretty sure they didn't have the money to replace the fence or the jumps. Why did this have to happen now, when the show was so close?

Chapter Nine

Kate lay in bed early the next morning, her body tired and her brain muddled. She hadn't slept soundly but couldn't quite remember why. Then she sat upright with a start.
The windstorm. The tree. The damaged fence and jumps!

Kate bolted out of bed, threw on her jeans, shirt, and socks, then headed downstairs. “Mom? Dad?” She hurried from one room to the other. Pete would still be in bed, and her parents must be outside inspecting the damage.

Tugging on her boots, Kate let her mind scurry ahead. Could the fence be repaired without too much cost? And what about the jumps? She dreaded even thinking about those. When she whipped open the door, she was thankful the wind had calmed.

Rufus bounded around a corner and leaped onto the porch. He nudged Kate's hand before heading back the way he'd come. “Wait up, boy.”

Kate broke into a jog and didn't slow her pace until the huge fir tree came into view. The bottom half still stood, but it ended in a jagged, splintered mess, no longer a towering, majestic tree.

Mom and Dad stood by the downed top half, and Mom's face looked as if she'd been crying. Kate stopped beside her parents and surveyed the scene. Broken branches littered a large area of the grass, pasture, and the inside of the arena. But that was the least of the problem. The base of the part that had snapped had landed on the end of the arena fence, completely obscuring any sign of it.

She looped her arm through her mother's. “How come Dad isn't at work? How bad is it? The jumps, I mean. I can tell the fence is trashed.”

Her mother squeezed Kate's hand against her side. “Not good. Dad called his boss and doesn't have to come in until noon. He'll get his chain saw and cut branches off before we know for sure. At this point we've been able to spot one jump that's shattered. This entire end of the arena will have to be rebuilt, and some large branches broke a few boards on the far side as well.”

Kate tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “How about the show?”

Dad stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I was telling your mom that we may have to contact the head of the show committee and cancel.”

“But, Dad, the committee already put ads in the paper, and notices have been emailed! It's not fair to cancel. There's got to be some way we can still hold it.”

He shook his head. “I think most of the jumps are damaged or destroyed, along with a big section of fence. We don't have the money to repair and replace everything that soon. I wish we did, but we don't. I'm beginning to wonder if we made the wrong decision to open in the first place.”

Kate gulped down a harsh protest, knowing it wouldn't help to be critical. Her mother had already been crying, and it wasn't fair to either of her parents to blame them if they didn't have the money. But it hurt regardless.

She kicked at a fir cone, then looked up. “Can we wait till you get the branches cut and see for sure? It might not be as bad as you think.”

Her dad hesitated. “I suppose so. It's too early to call anyone now anyway. I'll grab the chain saw. Nan, want to throw some breakfast together? Kate, how about you check on Pete and help your mother in the kitchen?”

“Can't I stay here and help you? I have leather gloves, and I'm strong enough to move branches.”

“I know you are, kiddo. There will be plenty of branches to move after breakfast. I won't be able to tell anything for a while. I have to sharpen the chain and get the saw running first. I haven't used it since we moved here.”

“Okay.” Kate stroked Rufus's head as he pressed close, seeming to sense her emotions. “Come on, boy. Let's get you fed and help Mom.”

Twenty minutes later the saw roared to life, and Kate ran to the window. Dad stood shaking his head in the middle of the arena where the top of the tree lay. Kate's heart sank. It must be worse than they'd thought.

After breakfast Kate, Pete, and her parents walked outside and headed for the tree, equipped with rakes, gloves, and the chain saw. Kate wished she could grab that stupid tree and yank it off the fence with her bare hands, but that was silly. From the look of the mess, this could take all day to clean up—or longer. She hadn't stopped praying all through breakfast that somehow the jumps would be fine.

A car turned off the road into their driveway, and Kate let out a whoop. “Tori's here!”

Her mother smiled. “Since Tori isn't old enough to drive, I assume one of her parents is with her. I hope it's her mother. I haven't seen her in a while.”

The car rolled to a stop, and three people emerged—Tori, her father, and her mother. Tori's father carried a chain saw, and all of them had leather gloves.

Kate gaped at the family, then ran forward and hugged Tori. She pulled away a couple of inches but retained her hold on her friend. “What are you guys doing? How did you know we needed help?”

Tori slipped out of Kate's hold. “One of Mom and Dad's friends lives on the property that is next to yours.” She waved at a white two-story, the Ferrises' nearest neighbor, only about a hundred feet from the far end of the arena. “They heard a loud crash last night and got up early to see what it was. When they heard your dad's saw this morning, they drove by and saw the tree. They know we're friends, so Mrs. Jiménez called Mom and told her what happened. Mr. and Mrs. Jiménez said to tell you they'll be over to help soon.”

Dad reached out to Mr. Velasquez and shook hands. “I would never have called you and imposed, but I'm grateful you came. Thank you.”

Mom's eyes brimmed with tears, and she sniffed. “I don't know what to say.”

Tori's mother gave Kate's mom a quick hug. “You'd do the same if we needed help.”

Dad grinned. “Nan, how about you put on a big pot of coffee and bring out a plate of those cinnamon rolls you baked yesterday? Then you ladies can sit and visit or move a few branches, whatever you prefer.”

Tori's mom laughed. “I didn't come to eat and visit. I came to work.”

Kate's dad pointed to two bare spots in the field not far away. “José and I will cut anything into firewood that's big enough, and the rest of you can take what's left to the proper pile.”

A middle-aged Hispanic man and woman ducked through the fence and headed across the short section of pasture bordering the arena. He nodded to Tori's father and extended his hand to Kate's dad. “Samuel Jiménez, and this is my wife, Mary.”

“Pleased to meet you, and I'm sorry we haven't met before. I'm John Ferris, and this is my wife, Nan, and my daughter, Kate. Our son, Pete, is inside watching a video.”

Kate's father started his saw, and Tori's dad did the same, making any further conversation impossible.

Tori grabbed Kate's hand and drew her off to the side. “What does your dad think about the fence? I saw part of a broken jump under the branches. Do you know if that's the only one?” A frown puckered her forehead.

Kate shook her head, feeling sick all over again. “A bunch of the jumps were near that fence. We put them out there a few days ago so we'd have them ready when they're needed. Now I wish we'd left them in the barn.”

“It was a huge windstorm, but it's not like you thought the tree would crash down on top of everything. So what happens if the jumps are all busted?”

Kate winced, not liking the picture that question created in her mind. “Dad says we'll have to call the show coordinator and cancel.”

Tori gasped. “Why? Can't you buy new jumps or fix them? We can help repair the fence. My dad's handy with a hammer and nails.”

“That's nice of you, but it takes money. More than we have right now. Dad even wondered if we should have opened the barn for business.” She dropped her voice to a loud whisper so Tori could still hear. “And Mom looked like she'd been crying when I came out this morning. I thought I was the only one in the family who was looking forward to this show, but I think Mom wanted it to be a success too.”

“Man, I'm so sorry.”

Kate gave Tori a weak smile. “Thanks. I'm going to tell my folks they can use the two hundred dollars I have in savings from my birthday and from Christmas money my aunts and uncles have sent me the last several years, plus what I've saved from doing extra chores.”

“Would that be enough?”

Kate hesitated, wondering if her parents had thought that far. “I know they have close to enough put aside to buy a lesson horse soon, if we can find one at a reasonable price. I wasn't going to tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. Now I wonder if they should use that money to fix things instead. But we need a good lesson horse if we're going to bring in more people.”

Tori nodded. “That's tough. Tell you what—I'll be praying that God sends an answer.”

Kate smiled, glad for the gazillionth time that Tori was her best friend. “Thanks. Ready to go drag some branches out of the way?”

Tori grinned. “Lead me to them!”

Two hours later, the majority of the tree had been cut, a nice stack of firewood leaned against the house, and a pile of branches sat in a clear spot where it would be safe to burn. The chain saws were silent, and the crew stood near the broken fence surveying the damage.

Kate gulped back a sob, determined not to cry, but she knew the show was doomed. Most of the old jumps were splintered, and at least three of the six new ones were damaged. Nothing remained of the fence where the tree had landed, and an even larger section on the side was broken than they'd first thought.

Tori moved close and bumped shoulders with Kate. “Don't give up yet. It's not over just because a few things are broken.”

“Tell that to my dad.” Kate whispered the words, but she knew they were true. Dad stood with his arms crossed and a scowl darkening his usually happy face. This was definitely not good.

Mr. Jiménez and his wife tugged off their gloves and walked to Kate's parents. “We're sorry we can't stay longer,” he said. “We're expecting company for lunch, and Mary needs to get home.”

Dad nodded and pumped the man's hand. “We'll have you folks over for supper soon. If there's ever anything we can do to help you, please let us know. You've been a godsend today.”

Mr. Jiménez motioned toward the remains of the trunk that still needed to come down. “I can help you take that down when you're ready, and I'll bring my log splitter over for the big pieces. Makes it a lot easier.” He waved as he and his wife walked away.

Kate sidled close to her mother and tapped her arm. “Has Dad made a decision?” She tried to keep her voice low, but Tori's mother looked their way.

Dad swung around and faced the small group. “Nan, you'd better call the coordinator and tell her what happened. I don't see how we'll replace all of this in time for the show. Maybe they can find another location.”

Mom hunched a shoulder. “I doubt it. She said it was a minor miracle they found us when they did. I'm guessing they'll have to cancel the show completely. It's a real shame, since it could have brought a lot of business to the barn, not to mention all the people who will be disappointed.”

“Plus the ones, like Melissa, who won't be able to earn the points they need to move on to regionals.” Kate couldn't keep from blurting out the information. After all, even though she didn't particularly like Melissa, she
was
one of their boarders.

Mom groaned. “I hadn't thought of that, but you're right, Kate. That's not going to go over well with a lot of people.”

Dad frowned. “I can't see that we have any choice.”

Kate cleared her throat. “Uh, can I make a suggestion?”

All eyes swung her way. “Go ahead,” Dad said.

“You have money put aside to buy a lesson horse. Maybe we should use that to fix things instead—and you could use the money I have in savings too.”

Mom's eyes lit with hope, then quickly dimmed. “No, I don't think so, but thank you for offering, honey. The show landed in our laps. We didn't ask for it. As nice as it would have been to host, we can't sacrifice the long-term investment of a lesson horse or your money in the hope that the show will make enough to pay that back.”