Chapter Thirty-One

 

Friday, October 25^th, 4:45 p.m.

 

While I groomed Twaziem, I told him all about the week. We’d kicked butt at the meet yesterday. Lincoln High remained undefeated. Harry got together with his geek squad friends, and they’d taken down the video. He tried to explain the details to me, but I didn’t get it. I truly didn’t speak the guy’s language. Luckily, Dani did. The two of them had already started compiling pics and interviews for the new video they were doing of Twaziem. Dani would visit next week to take more photos of my horse. I’d stopped in at the car lot, and Brenna hired me to wash cars, starting tomorrow afternoon.

“I guess I’ll have to start cutting up apples for you,” I told Twaziem. “I’m still pissed at Bill for being a screw-up.”

“Must be nice to be perfect.” Jack lined up his stall mucking tools in the aisle. “If you put him out, I’ll do his stall. Are you coming to the game tonight, Princess Robin?”

“Yes, but only to cheer you on, not your ‘too stupid to live’ buddy.”

“Don’t do me any favors.” Jack passed me the training halter and lead. “I told Bill he should hold out for a human being instead of waiting for you to grow up.”

I tossed my head. “Shove it. You, your horse, and the little blue dog that follows behind.”

 

* * * *

 

Sunday, October 27^th, 5:10 p.m.

 

Another day working with the vet, another colic. I was amazed at how often horses had trouble with their feed, but like Dr. Larry said, there were so many causes, ranging from bad hay to stress. This time a horse up in Darrington had been overworked at a Saturday show, then had trouble with his feed the next day. I waved goodbye to the vet and headed for the house.

Carrots first and I’d go to the barn, hoping that Jack was done being angry at me. I knew he loved me, and if Bill had done anything that really hurt me, my brother would totally be on my side. Right now, Jack felt I was unfair to his friend, and he didn’t hesitate to tell me so. As soon as I opened the front door, I heard my dad yelling for help.

I raced down the hall to the kitchen. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dad propped up Jack, guiding him into the room from the back porch. A torn shirt flapped from his shoulders. Bloody U-shaped prints on his side, his chest. One arm hung limp. More blood and manure splattered his jeans.

“What happened?” I barely managed a whisper.

Jack managed to wink at me, a bruise around his left eye. He wiped at the blood on his lip. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

Dad glared at me. “Get my coat and keys. I’m taking Jack to the hospital. Tomorrow, that killer goes to the slaughter house.”

“What killer?” Dread filled me. “What happened?”

“Twaziem cornered Jack and almost killed him. I’m done with that horse.” Rage filled Dad’s face, tightening his jaw. “He’s out of here first thing in the morning. I’m not giving that monster another chance at your brother.”

“It’s not his fault.” More blood ran down Jack’s chin.

I remembered what I’d heard about internal injuries in health class and ran for the phone to call 9-1-1. Jack needed an ambulance. When I glanced at him again, he drooped in Dad’s arms.

I gave our address to the operator and told her that my brother had lost consciousness. Why did I even try to save Twaz? I should have let Mr. Johnson take him to the slaughter house in the first place. It would have saved us from all this grief. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Not as sorry as that crazy horse is going to be.”

After they left for the hospital, I wandered from room to room. I saw the kittens playing in the living room drapes, but I couldn’t pick them up for a quick cuddle. Mom was off at one of her craft fairs and wouldn’t be back for ages. I knew if both my parents agreed that Twaziem was a threat, the guy was a goner. It wasn’t fair. I’d spent so much time on him. And maybe I didn’t gush over the horse, but it didn’t mean I didn’t care about him.

I grabbed my coat and a handful of carrots, and stopped in the back porch for my boots. I would go visit him and see if I could discover why he went berserk. There had to be a reason. Nobody freaked without one. In the barn, I flipped the light switch. I walked down the aisle, checking the horses. All of them munched hay.

What was that about? Normally, Twaziem would be in a paddock while his stall was cleaned and return in time for supper. The wheelbarrow stood in front of his door. I eyed it suspiciously. Why was my horse inside if Jack was mucking? Or had my perfect brother made a mistake?

I slid open the stall door to look inside. A bale of shavings sat in the opposite corner from the water tub. Twaziem turned his head when he heard me and nickered. “Good boy,” I managed to say around the lump in my throat. “You’re a good boy, Twaz.”

What had Jack been thinking? The rake and flat shovel leaned against the wall, but the pitchfork lay on the floor. It was pure luck that Twaziem hadn’t stepped on the plastic tines and broken them or stabbed himself with the fork. Okay, so it couldn’t kill him the way an old-fashioned metal one could, but it was still dangerous.

I walked over to it, bent, and snaked the fork over to me. Then, I walked around Twaz and collected the other tools. Last of all, I brought the bale of shavings up to the front of the stall. “Okay, booger-butt, I’ll clean the horsy rooms before I do the rest of the chores, but you have got to get over yourself. Stop picking on Jack. It’s not his fault he looks like Caine, and my brother would never hurt you.”

Twaziem snorted at the sound of my voice. He didn’t budge from where he stood in front of the manger. Nothing ever seemed to distract him from a meal, but my brother had.

“Robin, what are you doing?” Mom stood at the stall door. “Your dad called from the hospital and said that he left you at home. He’s totally lost it.”

“Well, his perfect Jack screwed up,” I said, scooping poop, “and my stupid horse hurt him.”

Twaziem stomped his front feet, and I paused to pet him. “Of course, that didn’t give you the right to kick him.”

“Nobody except you says your brother is perfect.” Mom sighed and walked in to check the water tub. “And your dad always freaks when one of you kids gets hurt. He wanted to shoot Vinnie the last time Felicia fell during a jumping lesson.”

“I don’t want Twaziem to go to slaughter,” I said, beginning to feel a bit better. It sounded like she was on my side. “Maybe I don’t get mushy all the time, but it doesn’t mean I want him dead.”

“Honey, I’d never send a horse there. I’d just have Dr. Larry put Twaziem down at home, and we’d bury him here like we did Cobbie.” Mom left the stall to go after the hose. “I don’t think your horse needs to worry about a long trip to Canada from Stanwood. Did your brother try to clean around him?”

“Yes. At least I think so. I found the tools in the stall along with Twaz. He must have been frightened and attacked Jack before—”

“Your brother got him.” Mom sighed and shook her head as she filled the water tub. “Sweetie, I don’t think we can wait to train him. We’re going to have to arrange for Rocky to start working with him now before this bad behavior escalates anymore.”

I cleaned up the last of the wet spot, then took the tools to the hallway so I could put down fresh shavings. “Will you talk to Dad?”

“Yes. He’s already calming down and starting to think. At the hospital, Jack kept telling your father that the accident was his entire fault.” Mom finished watering. “Come on, Robin. We have a lot of chores to do. And since your horse made the problem, you’ll have to do the barns full-time until Jack recovers.”

“I’m going to be totally overloaded until Christmas.” I moaned. “Cross-country practice, two more meets, my first job, my internship, and I’ll bet you still expect me to do homework for all my classes.”

Mom laughed and patted my back. “Let’s go, drama diva. I’ll help you.”

 

* * * *

 

Monday, October 28^th, 7:20 a.m.

 

This time I was the one who was almost late for school. Morning chores took forever even when Mom milked the cow. Vicky flagged me down in the Commons, holding out a huge mocha. “My turn to buy. Your turn to chug it.”

I managed to smile at her. “I’m amazed you’re speaking to me after what Twaz did to Jack.”

“Oh, I’m talking to you,” Vicky said. “I’m just not speaking to him. He got all pissy with me when I told him that he got what he deserved for being so stupid.”

I finished gulping my coffee on our way to English class. I’d barely sat down when Dani plopped into the chair beside me. “Is this afternoon still a good time for Harry and me to come shoot some video of your horse?”

“Yes,” I said, “but Harry needs to be careful. Jack went in to clean Twaz’s stall last night. He was kicked, struck, and bitten before he managed to get away. Coach will probably be looking for me since there’s no way that Jack will be able to play this week. He has cracked ribs, a wrenched shoulder and a twisted ankle, plus a ton of bruises.”

“And he’s really whiny.” Vicky leaned around me. “Jake should never have trusted a horse that Caine abused, but my silly boyfriend said he was in a hurry to get chores done. Now, he’s out of the barn until he’s back to a hundred-percent.”

“And I’m in it,” I said. “It takes forever for me to do chores by myself. The only comfort is that Mom says Jack’s on housework for the duration of his injuries. You should have heard him snivel when she said it only took one hand to run the vacuum cleaner.”

“I’ll bet he loves that,” Dani teased.

“Hardly.” Vicky began to giggle. “I’ll have to call and sympathize with him. Now, he’ll know what my nights are like.”

“Barely,” I said, starting to smile. “We don’t have any little kids.”

The last bell rang and the three of us dove for comp books. Mondays always meant an extra-long write, and Mrs. Weaver had been on an anti-bullying kick for the past week. Gawd knew how awful the prompt would be!

* * * *

 

Monday, October 28^th, 2:20 p.m.

 

Gwen led the stretching exercises for the team today, and then we took off for our run through Marysville. The pressure was on, so nobody complained when she headed for Golf Course Hill. If we won the next two meets, we’d be the undefeated champions in our division. I was really looking forward to rubbing our victories in the faces of the Mount Pilchuck team. We knew we had to be going to the state competitions. None of the other schools came close to what we’d done this year. And Olivia was already talking about kicking butt next spring in track.

When practice ended, it was time to go to the Mustang Corral. I’d be washing cars for the next hour and a half. Then, Dad would pick me up, and we’d go home so I could do the chores. Jack had skipped school today, but he’d be back tomorrow. I figured it was up to my folks to keep him out of the barn and away from the critters. Mom had already started making a list of housework. Jack complained, but I knew he’d turn out to be as good at house cleaning as he was at stall mucking.

I’d just soaked the candy-apple red Mustang when I saw a guy in a fancy blue uniform walking toward me. As he came closer, I realized he was a soldier. The combat boots and tan beret were a definite giveaway. He had a ton of medals on his jacket. I turned the nozzle on the end of my hose to cut off the spray. “Can I help you? Are you thinking about buying a car?”

“Actually, I’m looking for someone.” He smiled at me. “Is this Brenna Thornton’s place?”

“Yes, it is.” I didn’t smile back. “Are you the guy who broke her heart for a joke in Afghanistan?”

He eyed me and the hose. “That’s not the way I’d phrase it.”

“But, you’re not me,” I said, “and a player doesn’t deserve any respect from me.”

I lifted my hose, cranked the end, and watched him run for the office trailer. He didn’t know the cross-country creed of, “When you go after one of us, all of us get you.” It was only fair to give him a couple steps so he’d think he’d make it. And then I cut loose with the spray.