High Hurdles Collection Two (2 page)

Gran and Joe joined the scene. By now the twins had quit crying, but their lower lips quivered like fresh Jell-O Jigglers. Robert picked up the boys, and they buried their faces in the collar of his black tuxedo as Lindy stroked the back of the nearest one and murmured to them both.

DJ paused to examine the weird feeling that now wriggled its way to her attention. Like there was plate glass between the rest of the family and her. Like she was looking from the outside in.
This is stupid
, she told herself.
Get over there and … and what? Play big sister? That's what you are now, so get on it
.

“We wants DJ.” The boys pulled their we-think-talk-and-act-the-same trick that always amazed her. Just because they were identical twins, did they have some invisible connection?

Like a swimmer coming up for air, DJ broke out of her fog and crossed the sidewalk. She ordered her mouth to smile, putting the weird stuff out of her mind. She tried to kill the feeling of being an outsider but only succeeded in burying it.

“Hey, guys, what's up?”

Smiles peeked out from beneath the tear streaks. “Don't want to go to our house with Nanny Ria.”

“Want to go to Grandpa's house with you.” Identical sniffs as two pudgy hands wiped under two snub noses.

“Gross, you two. Get a tissue.” She stepped back, but her grin said she was teasing. It worked. The smiles came out. Even with the Double Bs smiling, DJ was grateful the twins were on their way back to Robert's old San Francisco house to stay with their nanny. She had been dreaming of a whole week with Gran and GJ—Grandpa Joe—alone.

One boy coughed, then the other.

Gran put a hand on each forehead. She looked up at Robert.

“Trouble, huh?” he asked.

Gran nodded, her silver-shot gold hair ruffling in the breeze. “No wonder they're being so fussy.”

“Okay, fellas, how about your mommy and I take you back home and get you settled?” Robert eyed the boys with concern.

“DJ too?”

“No, not DJ. She has to go to school on Monday, and she can't drive herself, remember?”

“Grandpa could come get her.”

Gran ruffled the talker's hair. “You have all the answers, don't you?” She put an arm around DJ's waist. “DJ has to help me put all the stuff away so you have a home to come to next week. I need her more than you do.” She raised on tiptoe and kissed each boy's hot cheek. “I bet Nanny Ria has Popsicles in the freezer for you when you get home.”

The Double Bs looked at each other and then lay their heads back on their father's shoulders. They really didn't look like they felt very good. DJ patted their backs. “You guys be good, okay?”

They nodded.

Robert's younger brother, Andy, drove up with Robert's Bronco, and Robert belted the boys into the rear seat, motioning for Maria to get in on the other side. When the twins started to whimper again, Robert and Lindy waved to everyone, and Robert helped her tuck her wedding dress around her feet so it wouldn't get caught in the door. With another wave, they drove off, leaving DJ feeling lost, like a little kid trapped in a pitch-black room. Her mother had been so concerned about the boys, she hadn't even hugged her daughter. And they'd be gone on their honeymoon for more than a week.

DJ shrugged. “Oh well,” she whispered. But the words offered no comfort, only another glimpse at that plate-glass window between her and her family—grown even thicker.

She thought about the twins' brat act. She'd rather work with Patches, the new horse she was training, at his most obnoxious any day. What had her mother gotten them into? DJ sighed. At least she would have one last whole week at Gran's by herself. No other kids in sight.

“Come on, Darla Jean.” Gran tapped her grandaughter's arm. “Back to the real world.” She smoothed a strand of honey-rich hair back up into the circlet of pink rosebuds that crowned DJ's head. With the sides of her hair caught up in combs and curling down her back, DJ knew she looked almost grown-up, or was it more like a girl in general? She'd been surprised herself when she looked in the mirror. Not a zit in sight, and the bit of eyeshadow and mascara her mother had added to DJ's green eyes had made them sparkle.

Gran slid her arm around DJ's waist. “You looked so grown-up and lovely today, it made me cry. That and the wedding. I sure am glad the boys mananged to hold off that bug until after the ceremony. Kids come down with things so quickly.”

“You really think that's what it was? Not just a brat fit?”

“You'd know if you'd felt their foreheads.” Gran looked deeply into DJ's eyes. “Darlin', what's bothering you?” Typical Gran—she always knew.

DJ started to shake her head, but Gran's squint caught her. The squint said,
Come clean, kid
.

Joe came up behind Gran and put his hands on her shoulders. “What's up?” He, too, looked at DJ as if analyzing her expression.

They waited.

DJ shifted from one pinched foot to the other. Maybe things would feel better if she took her shoes off. She did so, holding up one offending low-heeled pump. “These.”

Gran shook her head, just enough to be noticeable. She leaned back, resting against Joe's broad chest.

“And?”

DJ bit her lip, then rolled the bottom one up over the top. She stared at the shoe in her hand. “She didn't even hug me good-bye.” The words hung in the air. DJ could feel the burning behind her eyes as her nose started to run.
You are not going to cry. Get real! One less hug is no big deal. This isn't the first time your mother didn't hug you
.

She sniffed.

“Oh, darlin.'” Joe and Gran wrapped her in their arms, just like she was the middle of a sandwich and they were the bread. “It was only an oversight. Lindy's not used to dealing with sick boys, either. And you handle everything so well that …”

“That she just forgot.” Joe finished the sentence. “It doesn't mean she loves you any less.”

“But it hurts just as bad … right?” Gran tipped DJ's chin up so she could see her eyes. “I'm glad to know there have been enough hugs between the two of you lately that you miss one.”

DJ nodded. Being the middle of a sandwich felt mighty good right now.

“DJ, sorry to interrupt, but we need to get going.” Brad Atwood, DJ's real—or rather biological—father, spoke from behind Joe.

“Thanks.” DJ hugged each of her grandparents and took a deep breath. With her smile back in place, she turned to Brad and his wife, Jackie.

“Sure wish you could come home with us,” Jackie said. “Stormy misses you.” Storm Clouds was the Arabian filly DJ had fought to keep alive during the flood at her father's horse ranch a few weeks earlier.

“Maybe next weekend?” DJ glanced at Gran to catch a headshake. “Or the next.”

“I'll call you.” Brad wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You sure do look lovely, all dressed up like this. When you walked down that aisle, both Jackie and I sniffed back tears.”

“You look just as good in jeans.” Jackie gave her a hug. “But please make sure we get a picture of you in your outfit. I took some myself, but the photographers always do a better job.”

DJ could feel her neck growing hot. She hugged them both again and watched them walk off to the Land Rover. Jackie had her arm through Brad's and was laughing up at him. Talk about an awesome couple. Strange how God worked out the mess created when Brad first called DJ a couple of months ago to introduce himself. He was turning out to be a pretty cool dad after all. How come looking back made it easier to see God at work than looking forward? That was a question she'd have to ask Gran.

DJ slipped on her shoes again and headed back into the stucco building to help collect the presents and visit with her relatives. “I'm coming,” she called in answer to her cousin Shawna's beckoning wave. “But I've got to get these shoes off first.”

She didn't just change her shoes. Stripping off the dress, she hung and straightened it on the padded hanger, then ran a finger down the satin fabric. It felt almost as good as a newly washed show horse.

“Get a move on, kid,” Andy called from the hall.

“Coming.” DJ pulled on her dress pants and buttoned her shirt. A sigh of relief escaped when she slid her feet into her tennis shoes.
Back to real life
.

With the whole family pitching in, the mountain of wrapped packages soon filled two vans, leaving barely enough room for the passengers. Once the caterers had the leftovers boxed and in the back of Joe's Explorer, they all caravaned to DJ's house. Leaving the presents mounded in the family room, the people—and food—headed for Gran and Joe's.

“You think we can go over to the Academy later?” nine-year-old Shawna asked. She and DJ occupied the backseat of Joe's car.

“Sure. I have to feed the horses.”

“I … I meant to ride,” Shawna added. “If you don't mind, that is.”

“DJ, quit teasing the girl.” Joe grinned at them from the rearview mirror. “Of course you can ride, kiddo. Major needs some extra exercise.”

“You sure are free in loaning out
my
horse.” Major had been Joe's mount in the San Francisco Police Mounted Patrol, and DJ bought him when Joe retired.

“I can put her up on Ranger.”

“Sure, and let her get dumped.” DJ turned to Shawna. “You should have seen Joe chew dirt last week. And good old Ranger took off, racing around the arena. Good thing we weren't out on the trail. That horse would still be running.”

Joe rotated his shoulder. “Yeah, I can still feel it. But he'd have gone back to the barn. He knows where the feed bucket lives.”

“I wouldn't bet on it. That horse is one doughnut short of a dozen.”

“Or maybe two.” Shawna giggled along with DJ's grin.

“All right, all
three
of my children,” Gran joined in.

“Why is everybody picking on me?” Joe winked in the rearview mirror. He parked the car in front of where the garage used to be, before the fir tree crashed onto it during a storm. Getting out, he shouted, “Andy, come protect your old man. These females are ganging up on me.”

“Fight your own battles—that's what you always told me.”

“You want any help, ladies?” Sonja, Andy's wife and Shawna's mother, called.

Still teasing and laughing, they all picked up the plastic-wrapped trays, boxes of supplies, and container holding the leftover cake and trooped into the house.

“I think we ordered too much food.” Gran surveyed her oak table now hidden beneath the stack. Boxes nearly covered the delft blue counter tops, too, and some perched on the stools with blue-and-white print cushions. Like Gran herself, the kitchen always welcomed guests with food and comfort. And right now there was plenty to eat.

“Told you so.” Joe sidestepped her poking elbow.

“Sure, after we got to the reception. Where were you when the ordering was going on?”

“As far away as possible.” He handed Sonja two of the trays so she could find a place for them in the refrigerator.

“We're going to the Academy,” DJ said from the door, where she was pulling on her boots. “See ya.”

“You want a ride?” Andy asked.

“Nope, that's what feet are for.” DJ stopped at the door. “You can come pick us up if you want. Unless, of course, Joe can find the energy to come take care of his horse. What with his sore shoulder and all.” The two girls ducked out the door, the dish towel Joe threw missing them by inches. “You missed!” DJ yelled back.

After jogging the mile to the Briones Riding Academy, DJ and Shawna groomed the horses in double time and before long were walking Major and Patches around the covered and lighted arena. Across the parking lot, the long, low red stables nestled against the hill, with outdoor stalls stairstepping the grade behind. The Briones Academy was home to horses and riders of every caliber, from beginning kids to adults wanting a refresher, from hobby riders to those like DJ who dreamed of the big time.

“Cool it, horse,” DJ commanded. Patches twitched his tail and flicked his ears back and forth. DJ made him halt. “You keep going, Shawna. Just remember all you've learned in the past.”

“I know, heels down, back straight, hands relaxed but in contact with his mouth.”

DJ looked up to catch the proud look on her cousin's face. “Right you are.”

Patches shifted from one front foot to the other. His tail swished from side to side.

“He's not very happy, is he?” Shawna asked.

“No, he's being a brat. And, horse, I've had it up to my eyebrows with brats today.” DJ tightened the reins. “You are going to stand here until you can behave.” When his ears finally pointed forward, DJ squeezed her legs, making sure she was settled deep in the saddle. They circled the ring a couple of times at the walk, then DJ signaled a jog.

Patches pulled at the bit but otherwise settled down, ears checking out the other horses in the ring, the sunshine-and-shadow patterns on the sand, a sparrow cheeping from the rafters above.

“Your rising trot is looking good.” DJ jogged up even with the trotting Major.

“Major is such a cool horse. You think he knows I'm a beginner and is being extra nice for me?”

“Yup, he knows you're a beginner and nope, he's that way for everyone. Just like Joe, Major likes to take care of people.” DJ smiled at Shawna.

Without warning, Patches arched his back, turning bronc before DJ could stop him. Her seat lost contact with the saddle, and she flew up into the air. “Fiddle!”