Читать книгу Dark Days at Saddle Creek - Shelley Peterson - Страница 7

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DARKENING SKIES

There was a time when all the people and all the animals understood each other and spoke the same language.

— Elder Betsy Anderson, Tadoule Lake Dene

Alberta Simms studied the black clouds gathering overhead and hoped the rain would stay inside of them for just another few minutes. All day long the sky had swirled with indecision, but now it darkened with the inevitability of a massive downpour.

Easy does it, boy.

There it was again. The voice. Her heart quickened. She examined the crowd at the horse show, her eyes darting from one person to the next, alert to every facial movement and gesture. Nothing. Was she imagining things?

Twice now, she’d thought she’d heard a mental transmission, but both times she hadn’t been able to locate the origin of the voice. It was unique, somehow. Was it a human, and not an animal, that she’d heard? She set her jaw. Forget it, she told herself. If it’s real, it’ll come again.

Alberta, or Bird as she was known, heard a distant rumble of thunder. She wondered if her sister’s class would have to be cancelled. Now her fingers were crossed.

Determined to remain undistracted by the weather or the voice, Bird leaned on the white rail fence and refocused her attention on the action in the show ring. Her younger sister, Julia, was doing a great job of steering her chestnut pony around the course of jumps. Theirs was the fastest time so far, and all the rails were still up. Julia had talked of nothing but showing since her first-place finish at the Palston Classic in June. Now it was August, and they were back for the Summer Summit.

It was the last class of the day, and Julia was the last rider. The skies blackened dramatically as the pair made the final turn into a line of jumps. Small raindrops were beginning to fall.

Earlier that day, Bird and her formidable horse, Sundancer, had won their class, setting high expectations for the other riders from Saddle Creek Farm. Bird replayed the moment in her mind with considerable pleasure. It had been close to a perfect ride. Sunny was responsive and brave, and Bird was on her game. Horse and rider were totally synchronized — listening and moving and thinking as one.

After that, though, the entire day had felt odd — ominous, even, with the weight of humidity and the threat of rain hovering. Red-haired Kimberly and her mare, Moonlight Sonata, had gone off course and were whistled out. Liz and Pastor had crashed through a jump. But perhaps the barn’s luck was about to change. If Julia and Sabrina kept this up, there’d be two first-place ribbons for Saddle Creek Farm.

Sabrina, Julia’s pretty Welsh pony, was certainly intent on winning. Her tiny pointed ears strained forward and her mouth was tense with effort as she cantered over the blue and white oxer and took three quick strides to the red and green vertical. One stride, then over the yellow boards with her knees tucked up neatly under her chin. They landed safely and raced through the finish gate.

Julia’s face broke into a huge grin.

Bird slapped her sister’s calf when she trotted out of the ring. “Good job, Julia!” She gave Sabrina a pat on the neck. Good job, Sabrina! Did you have a little trouble on the far corner?

A huge flower popped up!

Bird smiled. A woman had opened her yellow umbrella just as Sabrina and Julia were cantering past. It might have seemed like a surprisingly big flower to the pony.

You did well to stay focused, Sabrina.

Think I’d spoil my ride because of a stupid flower?

Bird laughed out loud. Other horses would have spooked.

Julia slid off Sabrina and removed her helmet. “I wish Mom had stayed to watch that.”

Bird hugged her little sister. “She’ll wish she did when we tell her.” Eva had been around earlier in the day, but “something had come up” and she’d left before Julia’s class. Bird snorted. Probably a manicure or a shoe sale. Maybe lunch with a gossipy friend.

Big drops of rain landed on their heads. Julia looked up at the sky. “It’s really starting now.”

And start it did. Thunder rolled and the clouds let loose their burden. All around, people hurried for cover. Umbrellas opened and horses were dragged into trailers. People crowded under trees, dashed for their vehicles, and ducked under overhangs. Within seconds, Bird and Julia were soaked to the skin.

“Let it rain!” yelled Julia as they ran for the trailer with the pony. “I had the best time of my life out there!”

“I think you won first,” called Bird, running beside her.

You think? We won for sure! corrected Sabrina.

Bird dropped the rear ramp of the horse trailer, and Sabrina trotted right up beside the other horses. The sisters jumped in, and together they stood dripping as the rain pounded on the aluminum roof.

“Holy,” said Julia. “I’m glad this waited ’til we finished.”

Bird nodded. “Yeah. Your ride would’ve been called with this thunder.”

The rain was coming down so hard that a curtain of water streamed down the trailer door opening, inches from the girls. Julia put out her hand and squealed as water sprayed everywhere.

“Bring it on,” laughed Bird. “We couldn’t get wetter if we tried!”

That’s just stupid, commented Sundancer. The big chestnut gelding stood on the other side of Sabrina. I was perfectly dry until now.

Suck it up, Sunny, answered Bird. A little water never hurt anybody.

Tell that to a cat!

Sundancer always took an animal’s point of view, Bird observed. Where is everybody?

Moonie and Pastor are here in the trailer. Duh.

I can see that, smartass. I meant Aunt Hannah, Liz, and Kimberly.

They’re in the truck.

Bird spoke aloud to Julia. “Let’s go for it. When I count to three, get out. We’ll close up the trailer, run to the truck, and beat the rush out of here.”

“And go home? Before the ribbons?”

Bird saw the disappointment on her sister’s face. “Okay, maybe we can wait here a little longer. Aunt Hannah knows where we are.” Their aunt owned and operated Saddle Creek Farm, and was also their coach.

Julia looked much happier. “Holy. It’s really pouring.”

Bird squinted her eyes and peered through the sheet of water falling off the trailer roof. All around them, vans were pulling out. The show was over, and except for the eight riders who’d placed in the last class, no one had any reason to stay. Bird looked over to the entrance: a long line of trucks, trailers, and cars was waiting to leave the grounds.

The rain began to abate as quickly as it had started. Within minutes it had completely stopped, and the sky began to clear.

“Bird? Julia?” Hannah’s worried face peeked around the corner of the trailer. “You look drowned!”

“I think I won, Aunt Hannah!” crowed Julia.

“Good girl. I’ll run down to the office and find out what’s going on,” said Hannah. “You girls change into your spare clothes before you start shivering, and don’t forget to rub Sabrina down.”

“I’ve got to tell Liz and Kimberly first!” Julia leapt off the trailer like a flying squirrel and dashed to the truck.

Bird slipped the saddle and bridle off Sabrina and carried them to the tack room at the front of the trailer. She placed the pony’s saddle on the rack and hung up the bridle, wet girth, and saddle pad. From the trunk she got out her old green sweatsuit, and, after peeling off her wet riding clothes, she stepped into the soft flannel and pulled her rubber boots over dry socks. Much better, Bird thought. She grabbed a big towel to dry off Sabrina and stepped out of the tack room.

Julia appeared just as Bird was leaving. “I forgot to pack dry clothes,” she said through chattering teeth.

“Here’s a wool cooler.” Bird rubbed Julia’s head with the towel and grabbed a soft horse blanket. She threw it over her sister’s shoulders before splashing through deep puddles to the back of the trailer.

Before she could get to work on Sabrina, Bird’s attention was drawn down the hill to a galloping horse. A teenaged girl with a lead shank and halter was chasing a handsome bay horse with mudsplattered legs. He must have broken free, Bird guessed. The girl’s face was red with exertion and contorted with frustration. Bird recognized her at once. It was Wanda, a groom for the professional trainer Dexter Pill.

Bird put her hands on her hips. What was Wanda thinking, she wondered. Horses never come to people who chase them, especially when those people are yelling. It’s too scary for them.

Just as she was deciding how best to help, Bird was startled by a clear mental message.

Easy. Settle down, boy.

That voice again! Where had it come from? It had an authority and a clarity that made her certain it had been transmitted by a person, not an animal. Bird was puzzled. She’d never heard a person do that before.

The horse’s eyes and nostrils widened. He stopped, surprised. She watched as a man appeared from the trailers. He casually stepped up to the horse and reached out his hand. The horse relaxed at his touch.

Although Wanda was still visibly upset, the crisis was over. She nodded her thanks to the man, slipped the halter over the runaway horse’s head, and led him back in the direction from which they’d come.

Bird looked at the man closely as he walked away. He intrigued her. He was slightly built and moved with a quiet athleticism. He wore jeans, white sneakers, and a green T-shirt. His unruly hair was jet black, and his skin was weathered. Who was he?

Bird had considered it a possibility that other people might communicate telepathically with animals, but actually witnessing this was a first.

Wait! she messaged. I want to meet you!

Bird threw the towel over Sabrina’s wet back and raced down the hill, tracking the man’s steps. She ran around the stall tents and remaining trailers looking for him, but he was gone. There was absolutely no sign that he’d ever been there at all. Bird wondered if he was in one of the trucks or trailers that were moving out of the parking lot. If so, it was too late.

WHEN HANNAH RETURNED FROM the show office, she found her nieces with Kimberly and Liz, busily hanging wet clothes and saddle pads out to dry on the Saddle Creek trailer. The truck doors were open, draped with drying objects, and the mounting block, flatbed, and even the hood of the truck were in use. There was no surface uncovered.

“Girls?” Hannah’s brow wrinkled. “What are you doing? No, I see what you’re doing. Why are you doing it?” “To dry things,” answered Julia.

“The sun’s out,” added Kimberly.

“Wet things get m … mouldy,” Liz said helpfully.

Hannah wasn’t fooled. “I wasn’t going to leave before Julia got her ribbon. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

The girls broke out laughing.

“Thanks, Aunt Hannah,” grinned Julia. “I’ll put everything back in the trailer.”

“Leave it out until we go. Wet things get mouldy.” Hannah chortled.

“What did they say at the office, Aunt Hannah?” asked Bird. “The jump-off is cancelled, so winners will be ranked by time and rail faults. They’ll announce when they’re ready.”

“Do riders have to be mounted?” Julia asked. She glanced down at her strange ensemble of borrowed apparel. Her dripping breeches, shirt, and jacket hung on the truck door.

“No, lucky for you. Most of the horses have already left. The show was over anyway, except for the last class ribbon presentation.”

“Whew.”

Just then, the announcer called for attention over the intercom system. “The judges are ready to pin the last class. Those concerned should come to ring four. Now.”

Hannah clapped her hands. “Let’s go find out how you did, Julia.”

“I can’t wait!” Julia jumped up and down.

Kimberly grabbed the younger girl and spun her around. “I knew I was out of the ribbons as soon as I went off course. Maybe that was better — no suspense now about getting placed.”

“And I landed right in the m … middle of the oxer!” exclaimed Liz. “P … Pastor was so upset, p … poor guy.”

The Saddle Creek contingent hurried down the hill to the office together. It was a small room, and already crowded. Bird recognized a good portion of the crowd. The same people returned to horse shows time and again, especially if they were winning.

A tall woman in her mid-sixties stood behind the desk with a sheaf of papers, a pair of half-glasses perched on her nose. This was the judge, Bird surmised.

“Hello, people, and well-ridden!” The judge’s tone was gracious and warm, and her eyes sparkled. “I have the honour of presenting your ribbons.” She smiled at each person individually.

Bird smiled back. This woman really enjoyed her job.

“I don’t normally judge the jumper classes — hunters are my specialty — so it was a lot of fun for me today. I hope to judge again next weekend, so do come out and compete for the silver trophy.”

There was a lot of nodding and smiling and nudging of elbows.

“Every one of you did a wonderful job. I wish each of you could get first place. You kids all worked hard, and each one of you deserves praise. But I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. I’ll award your ribbons from first to last for a change. Now, for the presentation!”

“About time!” grumbled Julia under her breath.

“Hush!” Hannah looked at her sternly.

“The first place winner is … number 397. Julia Simms and Sabrina!”

“Ohmygosh!” Julia’s face beamed with pleasure as she rushed up and grabbed her ribbon. “Thanks so so so so much!”

“You’re most welcome,” said the judge warmly. “You rode fast enough to beat the rain!”

Hannah and the girls hugged Julia briefly, then listened politely while all the others got their rosettes. Once the ceremony was over, Liz and Julia jumped up and down together.

“I can’t believe I won first!” Julia whispered.

“So f … fabulous!” enthused Liz.

Bird noticed the dark looks her sister was getting from the other contestants. She poked Julia in the ribs and spoke quietly. “Don’t rub it in.”

Julia’s face dropped. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Take it outside.”

Liz took Julia’s hand, and they raced off together giggling.

Kimberly sighed. “They’re so-o-o eleven.”

“Yeah,” said Hannah dryly. “You fourteen-year-olds are over the hill. Let’s go.”

Kimberly obeyed Hannah’s orders, but just as Bird was about to follow, a remark from within the crowd caught her attention.

“My horse is crazy. Totally.” Bird strained her ears.

“Dex says nobody can train him. He bucks. My father is going to have him put down.”

Bird studied the person who was speaking. She was a short, blond teenager with braces on her teeth. Bird had seen her competing many times on her black and white pony, and she remembered that her name was Sally. She rarely made it to the ribbons, but always gave her best effort.

Bird wondered if she should interfere. Sundancer had been considered crazy, and was about to be euthanized when Bird got him. She had spent a lot of time and used a lot of patience — along with her special skills — to help him settle down. Now he was a champion.

Hannah was waiting at the door. Bird couldn’t help but listen. “No sense getting hurt.” The woman was talking now, and she spoke with authority. “If that’s what your father thinks, you’re doing the right thing. Some horses are just bad.”

Bird cringed at the woman’s words. Horses, and people, for that matter, were often deemed to be “just bad.” But just like bad people, bad horses sometimes had a reason to be bad. Maybe the handling was rough, or something hurt, or they just didn’t feel appreciated or understood. Rarely were they “just bad.”

Hannah stared at Bird pointedly. “Well? Are you coming?”

“One minute.”

“What’s up?”

“If I tell you, you’ll say no.” Before Hannah could open her mouth to respond, Bird walked over to the blond girl and the woman.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” said Bird. She tried to appear friendly and helpful, instead of nosey and interfering. “Are you having a problem with your horse?” Now Bird recognized the woman. She was Kelsey Woodall. Bird recalled that she’d wanted to lease Moonlight Sonata for her daughter Candace until she fell off.

“I might be able to help,” continued Bird. “I’ve had experience with troubled horses.”

The woman’s brow furrowed. “For someone so young, you have a very high opinion of your horsemanship. Who do you think you are?”

“My name is Alberta Simms, Mrs. Woodall.”

The woman studied Bird’s face. Recognition dawned, and she blushed slightly. “I don’t wish to continue this conversation.” Kelsey Woodall turned and walked away.

Bird could understand her embarrassment. Earlier that summer, they’d had an unfortunate interaction. Candace had broken her ankle falling off Moonlight Sonata. Their trainer, Dexter Pill, had flown into a rage, and Kelsey Woodall had been rude and high-handed to Aunt Hannah. But Bird couldn’t give up. This horse’s life might be worth saving.

“I’m sorry to be a pest,” said Bird.

“I’ve heard of you. They call you Bird.”

Bird nodded. “And you’re Sally.”

“Yes, I’m Sally Johns. I can’t believe you remembered my name! I mean, everybody knows you, but I’m not … you know … famous.”

It was Bird’s turn to blush. “I’m not famous,” she mumbled, then changed the subject. “I saw you ride your paint, Peasblossom. He’s cute. You did great today.”

“Thanks! Eighth is still in the ribbons!” Sally’s smile faded. “My father bought me a new horse because I’m outgrowing Peasblossom, but it’s not working out so well.”

Hannah had pushed through the flow of departing adults and kids. When she finally reached Bird and Sally, she wasn’t pleased. “The horses are standing on the trailer and the girls are waiting.”

“Aunt Hannah, this is Sally Johns. I heard her say that her horse is going to be put down.”

“My dear Bird.” Hannah let out an exasperated sigh. “You cannot save every horse on the planet. This is her business, not yours.”

“It might be very simple, though! An aching muscle or rough teeth.”

“I’m sure they’ve had the vet out. Come now, Bird.” Hannah smiled at Sally. “Sorry to pull her away, but you know how it is.”

Sally nodded. “I know. But Bird? The horse’s name is Tall Sox. He’s stabled with Dexter Pill at Moreland Farm on the Fifth Sideroad.”

Hannah reacted to that information. She began pulling Bird outside by the arm.

“Do you live close by?” called Bird over her shoulder.

“I’m with my mom right now. She’s on Kennedy Road in Cheltenham.”

“Okay. I’ll be at Saddle Creek all weekend.”

“I know where it is. It’s not far from my mom’s place, and Moreland Farm, too.”

“Come over tomorrow!” Bird spoke loudly enough to be heard across the room. Sally nodded enthusiastically as Hannah slammed the door behind them.

As soon as they were outside, Hannah muttered under her breath, “Dexter Pill!” Her voice got louder and louder as they neared the trailer. “Bird, you know how I feel about him. Dexter Pill! You’re to have nothing to do with this, do you hear me?”

“This is about the horse, not the trainer.”

“The horse is stabled with the trainer, Bird! You cannot deal with the horse without dealing with the trainer. You know that.”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Don’t you remember how he treated Moonlight Sonata at the show just a couple of months ago?”

Bird certainly did remember. It had been ugly. “All the more reason to help Sally’s horse. Just think what Tall Sox must be going through!”

“Dexter won’t even allow you on the property! He hates us for rescuing Moonie and then winning firsts with her. It makes him look bad.”

“But this isn’t about him!”

“You’re not listening, Bird! Dexter will not let you help!”

“And you’re not listening, either! I don’t care about Dexter. I don’t need him!”

“You need him to allow you in his barn!”

Bird and Hannah stood face to face, yelling at each other. Bird looked around and realized they were causing a bit of a scene — people were starting to stare. She didn’t care. This was important.

Hannah’s shoulders slumped and her expression softened. “I’m sorry, Bird,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I’m upset at the thought of Dexter Pill, not at you. No matter how charming people think he is, that man makes my blood boil.”

Bird was still angry. “I know, but you don’t understand. I’m not like other people. I can help this horse no matter what you or Kelsey Woodall or Dexter Pill say.”

“I hear you. Nothing I say is going to change your mind.”

“Finally.” Bird exhaled noisily.

“Did you say Kelsey Woodall?”

“Yes. She was the woman talking to Sally when I went over.”

“About putting the horse down?”

“Yes.”

Hannah looked thoughtful. “Interesting.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m not sure, but I have a funny feeling. I know she’s been looking for a new horse for Candace. Are they trying to sell Sally the old one?”

Bird looked at her aunt. The Woodalls stabled horses and trained with Dexter Pill. Maybe there was more to this than Bird had first thought. “One thing I know about funny feelings,” she said, “is that we should pay attention to them.”

Hannah smiled. She put out her right hand for Bird to shake. “Friends again?”

Bird accepted her handshake. “Friends again.”

“Then let’s get back to Saddle Creek Farm and look after these horses.” Hannah took Bird’s arm, and together they joined the others at the rig.