More Than a Horse Read online

  Hank brought out a dappled gray mare for a young woman whose boots and riding pants had the well-worn look of an experienced rider. Leeann watched enviously as the young woman swung gracefully into the saddle and directed Hank to shorten a stirrup for her. When Amos led off the first group of trail riders, Robuck took up the tail end position.

  Mr. Holden was by then instructing five beginners who seemed to be the parents and three children of one family. After he'd taught them how to handle the reins, he advised them to sit in the saddle with their heels down. "You slide forward on the saddle to help the horse going uphill and slide back on the way down," he said.

  Leeann watched patiently, but neither Hank nor Mr. Holden took notice of her. Finally, the beginners were led off for a ride by Hank, and Leeann had only the horses left behind in the corral for company. A heaviness settled on her, as if the broken promises of her life were weighing her down.

  Sunday passed and Amos didn't relent. Leeann stared longingly at the horses. Much as she enjoyed watching them, it was tormenting to be so close and not even be allowed to touch one, much less to ride.

  Monday Leeann put on her best jeans to go to the new school. She wore her long tawny hair loose to insure that, despite her thinness and the dark eyebrows that made her face appear stern, she wouldn't be mistaken for a boy. For the hundredth time she regretted that her hair wasn't the russet of a maple leaf like her mother's and that her skin didn't glow like Rose's. Her mother always told her to be glad she'd inherited her dead father's leanness and didn't have to worry about excess weight the way Rose did, but Leeann still felt gypped in the gene department.

  Let there be a nice girl on the lookout for a friend in my class, she prayed silently.

  The school was a low, sand-colored block building. It rambled through a bare, brownish-gray field studded with rocks. Dry brown hills were sketched against the sky behind it. Leeann had said she didn't need Rose to escort her the first day, but she was glad her mother had insisted.

  "You may look sixteen, but you're only twelve," Rose had said, "Also, I want to see what this place is like myself."

  The halls were light and full of student artwork. The classrooms were quiet and full of students bent over desks. "It looks fine," Rose said before she left.

  "Fine," Leeann echoed reassuringly.

  The classroom she was assigned to struck her as disorganized. The desks were clumped together haphazardly, and students seemed to be roving about at will, talking too loudly. The young teacher, Ms. Morabita, had black hair fixed in elaborate rolls and whorls, with a pencil stuck in it and dangly earrings hanging below it.

  "We're just starting our initiative projects, Leeann," Ms. Morabita said. Her hands fidgeted and her eyes roved the room anxiously. "You fill out this form about your special likes, and I'll attach you to the right group. Okay?"

  Leeann studied the form. Name your three favorite things in order of preference. Name your three favorite activities in order of preference. Name the three things you're best at. Leeann kept jotting down answers and scratching them out for fear they wouldn't leave a good impression of her. Half an hour later when she was done, her lists read:

  Three favorite things are my mother, horses, nature. Three favorite activities are horseback riding, photography, sleeping. Three things I'm good at are math, working, organizing things.

  She handed the list to the teacher, who smiled when she read it.

  "Oh, good, this'll be easy. I'll just put you with Joy Childs's group. Their project is horses." Ms. Morabita fluttered her hands toward a clutch of desks in the corner of the room where two girls were sitting with two boys perched on desks near them.

  Leeann didn't move.

  Ms. Morabita asked, "Want me to introduce you?"

  "Please," Leeann said. Her stomach clenched anxiously as she followed the teacher through the chattering students to the farthest corner. The groups didn't appear to be accomplishing much. Leeann liked orderly learning. She liked to know what the teacher expected so that she could complete a task and take satisfaction from doing it well. Here, she wouldn't even be able to tell what doing it well required. She was so nervous that she barely smiled when the teacher introduced her to the group.

  "This is Leeann, and she likes horses, so I'm putting her with you guys. Okay?" Ms. Morabita said.

  "Oh, sure. We could use some new blood," said a pretty girl with a cloud of long blond curly hair. She smiled at Leeann. "I'm Joy, and this is Kristen, and Zach and Alan. We've been together since first grade, which means none of us can come up with an idea the rest of us haven't heard before, so we're stuck. What do you think we could do about horses?"

  "I don't know," Leeann said, choking up at this new test.

  "I'll leave you kids to it," Ms. Morabita said. She hurried toward a group who were yelling at each other.

  "Well," Joy said, "my idea's to take a horse from the time it's born through its life. Kristen wants to do horses in general, and the boys want just working horses. What do you think?"

  To Leeann's relief, an idea popped into her head. "How about doing horse personalities," she said. "Like the stories of individual horses and what's happened to them in their lives? Like horse portraits?"

  Kristen, a small earnest-faced girl, neat as a black capped chickadee, said, "Horse portraits! I like that. Then you could do one horse from birth on, Joy, and the boys could pick working horses for their portraits."

  "Do you own a horse, Leeann?" Joy asked.

  "No. I was supposed to get one before we moved here, but I didn't."

  "Oh, too bad. I'm getting one for my birthday this weekend. How come you didn't get yours?"

  "It just didn't happen." The explanation was too complicated and too revealing, and her disappointment too razor-edged to handle.

  Still Joy looked at Leeann sympathetically and said, "I'd die if I didn't get a horse now."

  "Horses' portraits—not a bad idea. Let's go with it, you guys." The boy who had given his approval was tall and homely with a long jaw and narrow, intelligent eyes. Zach. He was Zach, Leeann reminded herself.

  "So what are we going to do, everybody just bring in a report about their horse?" Alan asked. He was sitting on Joy's desk, a compact, handsome boy with strong cheekbones and fine blond hair that flopped into his eyes. He looked at Joy for an answer and she reached up and brushed back the escaped lock of his hair.

  Kristen's intense blue eyes took in the intimate gesture, but Leeann couldn't read her expression. Kristen was pretty too, except she wore braces and her black hair was cropped short as a boy's. The two girls made Leeann feel plain. But they seemed friendly enough. Casually she offered, "I could bring in my camera, and we could get a photograph of each horse to go with its story."

  "Another neat idea," Joy said. "Hey, Leeann, I'm glad you joined us."

  Leeann smiled. Maybe it would be good here, after all. Maybe she'd make friends easily, and surely Amos would relent soon and let her near his horses.

  CHAPTER 3

  Leeann was the only one left on the school bus by the time it got to the ranch. The bulldog-faced lady driver gave her a friendly smile and said, "End of my run. See you tomorrow?"

  "I expect so," Leeann said. "Thanks." And she swung off.

  She stood a minute to study her new home. The wooden sign strung across two tall fence posts at the entrance said, "Lost River Ranch." Hanna hadn't mentioned a river here, lost or not. Leeann wondered if there was a dry bed where a stream had been. She couldn't go near the horses, but exploring to find the riverbed might be interesting.

  She walked up the gravel drive toward the main house. The ranch was small, Hanna had said, no more than a couple of dozen guests at a time and usually less. It was closed from May to October because then it was too hot in this part of Arizona for people to ride or for the horses to be ridden. The Holdens made some money from breeding their horses, so somewhere beyond the outbuildings there had to be colts and yearlings too young to be ridden. Their sire was Darth
Vader, the horse Amos had warned Leeann not to go near. Should she do her report on him? But who would give her information? Not Amos, unless she could somehow win over that angry old man.

  She trudged past the oval of lawn in front of the porch, which was full of comfortable wooden chairs and stretched the whole length of the house. Past the facade, the building sprouted additions, some made of mismatched boards and crooked windows. The cabin that was now home was as small as a one-car detached garage in Charlotte. She didn't care, Leeann told herself. And she didn't even mind having to share a bed with her mother.

  But she wished Big John had never promised her a horse. The belief that she was getting one had left a craving in her. Not that Rose could afford a horse even if one magically appeared. Horses cost a lot to maintain, and Rose barely had enough money to cover necessities like car insurance. But practical as Leeann considered herself, she couldn't shed her longing.

  The cottage was empty. A note on the table said, "I'll be in the ranch house. Cookies in the cookie jar. Milk in the refrigerator. Love you, Rose."

  Leeann ate a cookie and drank a glass of milk. She was never very hungry. If she ate more she might not be so bony, people said, but she had tried and hadn't gained any weight. Rose claimed Leeann had an interesting face. "You'll be a beauty when you're grown," Rose promised. Leeann doubted it. She hoped people would like her because she was diligent and helpful, a useful person. If only Amos would let her prove how useful she could be! It was unfair that he wouldn't allow her to go near the horses. He was a mean man.

  She got into old jeans and a faded "Save the Rainforest" T-shirt and started out to find the river. It wouldn't do to bother Rose while she was busy cooking.

  The sky in every direction except back toward town was scalloped with hills. Some were oddly shaped with wind-worn rocks that projected from them like fingers or fists against the blueness. No clouds. It was February, yet there were no clouds and it was warm as summer. If they were here next summer, they'd have to get used to the heat. But where would Rose work when the place shut down in May? Life was too full of questions. Leeann wanted something sure, something solid like the big warm body of a horse to hold onto.

  In the distance, a string of horses led by Amos crossed the field toward the ranch house. Leeann recognized Amos by his gray ponytail. She waved, ready to tell him she was only going exploring, but he was too far away to call to, and he didn't give any sign of seeing her. The horses Amos was leading were a shabby bunch, too fat, too swaybacked, too angular, too something. None of them was as handsome as the black stud.

  Leeann stopped to watch three pretty yearlings playing in a small corral. They were bays, with glossy brown coats and black tails and manes. One bumped another who was watching Leeann and they chased each other around the corral until the bumped horse reared up. The third horse lay down on its back and rolled from side to side in the soft dirt. Leeann pulled up grass from her side of the fence and offered it between the wires. The animals watched her, but they wouldn't come to her even though she spoke to them softly and at length.

  Still in search of the riverbed, she hiked along the wire fencing until it turned a corner on a wooden post. Now she was picking her way through prickly pear cactus and low scrubby bushes that looked too dry and thorny to be edible even by a horse. The fence went over a rise and there below her was the riverbed, dry as a dusty road.

  A horse stood in it.

  This animal was brown with a black tail and mane like the yearlings, but it was older. Sleek and full-chested with long slender legs, it had no obvious defects like the horses Amos had been leading. It was as handsome as the black stud, but not aggressive. This horse looked mischievous.

  "Hi, horse, what you doing there all by yourself?" Leeann said. The animal was watching her with ears cocked forward. She moved steadily toward it. It watched her with interest and didn't back away.

  "You looking for company?" Leeann asked. "Or are you expecting me to have a treat for you?" She stopped within an arm's length of the horse. It blew out some air and bobbed its head toward her hands. She reached out and touched its forelock. It stepped closer to her. She stroked its forehead and the long slide of its neck. Its soft muzzle bumped her shoulder.

  "Hey, you're a friendly one," Leeann said. "You wouldn't be looking for a playmate, would you?" For a long time she petted the animal, who nudged her occasionally in return. It was a male, she observed. She took a few steps back up the rise from the dry riverbed. "I'd better head on home," she said over her shoulder. "Want to come along?"

  The bright-eyed animal acted as if he understood her; at least he followed her up the rise. She offered him some grass that he could have perfectly well reached himself. He took the clump politely, and with comical sidewise motions of his lower jaw, ate her offering. "Coming?" she asked. Amazingly, the horse did come. He ambled along with her as if they were companions out for a walk.

  Leeann was delighted. "Aren't you the one," she said. "You're some cutie pie, you are. I wish you were mine. I wouldn't even have to ride you to enjoy you." It occurred to her that this animal was docile enough to ride bareback. But she had nothing to steer him with, not even a rope. And what if Amos caught her? Still, when she saw a table-sized rock, she was tempted. She climbed on it and called the horse to her. He came, but on the wrong side.

  "This way," Leeann told him. "Come around this side." The horse frisked around the rock, tail swishing, as if he were playing a game. As soon as he happened to come up alongside where Leeann wanted him, she grabbed his mane with one hand and heaved herself belly down across his back. From that position it was easy to swing one leg to the other side and sit up, still holding onto the mane. The horse danced sideways.

  "It's all right," Leeann said soothingly. "I'm not that heavy, am I? Want to carry me back to the ranch? Come on. We'll surprise Amos. I bet he'll be glad I'm bringing you home!" Gently she nudged the well-fleshed ribs with her sneakered heels. That started the animal trotting and she almost lost her balance. She had never ridden bareback before, and she was so tickled to find out she could do it that she laughed out loud.

  "Hey, horse, slow down and walk, will you?" she told him. "Walk! Please! It's too bouncy when you trot." She sat back and pushed her legs forward. Obediently he slowed to a walk.

  She was riding him alongside the fence when she saw Amos again. Now he was leading a line of trail riders up along a ridge to her right. He was looking at her over his shoulder. She pointed to the horse and yelled, "I found him." She could see Amos's shaggy gray eyebrows but not the expression on his face. Maybe he hadn't heard her. Maybe he didn't understand. Her heart revved up alarmingly as she realized that he just might not want to yell at her in front of the guests.

  She kept walking her mount toward the ranch. Next time she looked back, Amos and his riders had disappeared behind some rocks. Leeann kept steering the obliging horse with her legs as well as she could toward the main corral.

  She slid off when she got to it, figured out how to unlatch the gate, and led the horse into the corral with her hand against his neck. "You're some horse," she said. "You really are. Thanks for the ride."

  He nudged her twice in the chest with his head as if to return the compliment, then ambled to the water barrel and began to slurp up water noisily. He'd been thirsty, Leeann realized. That may have been why he'd been willing to return. Well, Amos had to be pleased she'd brought him back. She hoped he'd be pleased enough to forgive her.

  Leeann closed the gate behind her and went to find her mother in the kitchen of the big building.

  "You don't want to get too fancy," Hanna was saying to Rose as they stood over a slab of beef that Rose was cutting into cubes. "Using a lot of wine and herbs in things won't get you half the compliments that plain grilled steak and maybe some corn bread and fresh string beans will."

  "Hi," Leeann said. "This kitchen smells wonderful."

  "That's the pies in the oven," Hanna said. "Your ma's doing all the work. I'm just standing
here directing her."

  "It's not true," Rose said. "Hanna can do more with one hand than I can do with two any day."

  "That's what my third husband used to say. He'd sit back and let me do all the work and pay me off in compliments. Took me a while to realize I was being had." Hanna laughed. She'd been married four times, and the longest marriage hadn't lasted a year. She'd never had any children.

  Rose said, "You always were a working fool, Hanna."

  Hanna was the practical one, Rose had told Leeann. It was Hanna who had talked Rose into staying in college when Rose, the dreamer, had nearly flunked out because she had fallen in love with a boy who aced tests without studying and who dropped her anyway. Hanna had never gone to college herself. "No brains," she'd told Leeann once. But it wasn't so. Hanna was smart enough. She just wasn't interested in any learning she couldn't immediately apply.

  They looked as if they were having fun together, Leeann thought. She was glad for her mother. Rose needed some fun in her life.

  "School go okay?" Rose asked cautiously.

  "Pretty good," Leeann said, although she wasn't that sure about Ms. Morabita. "I'm doing a project on horses with four other kids."

  "Wonderful," Rose said. She sounded as if she'd been fearful it was going to be hard for Leeann. "Nice kids?"

  "So far they seem nice. I need some information on the horses on this ranch, though. Do you know much about them, Hanna?"

  "Me? No. Amos is the one to ask. He knows them like they're his family."

  "Amos doesn't like me."

  "He doesn't like anybody much. Don't worry. He's not as bad as he looks. It's his arthritis makes him cranky ... he still mad at you about that business with the stud?"

  "Yes, and today he saw me riding a horse I found roaming around in the old riverbed. I brought it back to the corral, but he didn't thank me."

  Hanna laughed. "If you found a horse roaming, it must be Sassy. That animal gives Amos fits. Never stays where he puts him."