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Authors: Marsha Hubler

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BOOK: On the Victory Trail
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“No problem.” Skye went on eating her sandwich.

Mrs. C. smiled sympathetically. “Sooze, tell you what I'd like to do — that's if — and a big
if
— you feel better tomorrow. I've been thinking a lot about you and your horse situation. Maybe Stormy isn't the horse for you after all. I know the doctor wants you to take it real easy and not exert yourself. We'll be helping you with your chores. And as far as riding is concerned — ”

Sooze's eyes looked like they were ready to jump out of her head. “Don't tell me I can't ride the horses!”

Skye swallowed quickly and said, “Sooze, take it easy, but Mom's right. Maybe she would let you ride if you started with a smaller horse that's trained in a completely different way. Pepsi might be just right for you, right Mom?”

“Yes. That sounds like a good solution.” Mrs. Chambers smiled.

“She's a beautiful Blood Bay mare trained in Western only,” Skye went on, “and she's a super trail horse with a lazy walk and easy gait. She'd never run off with you. Of course, you'd have to take it easy too. No horse enjoys a kick in the ribs. It's a wonder Stormy didn't buck you off a few weeks ago!”

“What does ‘Blood Bay' mean?” Sooze asked.

“It means Pepsi is dark reddish-brown,” Morgan said.

“Like a Pepsi Cola with a shot of cherry,” Skye added. “The ‘bay' part means that she has a black mane and tail. Oh, and guess what? Pepsi is Champ's mommy. Right, Mrs. C?”

“Right. They both come from a long line of champion Quarter Horses. And, like I was saying, if you feel better tomorrow, we'll start riding lessons again, this time with Pepsi and, hopefully, a new attitude. What do you say?”

Sooze smiled weakly. “Great,” she managed to say, raising her thumbs slowly.

Mrs. Chambers cleared the counter. “Okay, that's what we'll do. By the way, if you decide you want to eat later, just help yourself. There's iced tea here too. Now why don't you try to get some rest?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sooze's eyes managed a hopeful twinkle. “See you guys later.”

A few days later, on a beautiful August afternoon, Skye and Sooze rode their horses through the woods. Ahead of the girls, Tippy and Tyler ran wildly, making frequent stops to sniff every tree and rock they could find.

“Sooze, I think you'll do great in that Beginner's Showmanship Class at the horse show,” Skye said, trying to be reassuring. “That thing in your head has slowed you down just enough to make you a greenhorn with an ounce or two of horse sense. After only a few weeks, you act like you've been hanging with horses all your life.”

“I guess this brain tumor did do
one
good thing,” Sooze said, tapping her hard hat. “No more kicking horses in the ribs. Now it takes all my energy just to crawl on and click my tongue to say go.” She reached down and stroked the coarse black mane on Pepsi's nodding head. “I'm trying not to show it, but I'm kinda nervous over this horse show. You really think I can do it? What if I goof up? What if I'm even too tired to stand?”

“Just relax, will you? Remember, you won't even be riding Pepsi. All you have to do is lead her around the show corral, square her up, and then blend into the saw-dust. The judge will be looking at the horse, not you. Your most important part is getting her ready
before
the show. Brushing and oiling, polishing hooves, grooming her mane and tail. If you do a good job, Pepsi will be the star of the show. With a horse that's built like her, you could come home next week with a ribbon to match your Stetson. Besides, I'll help you.”

The sound of squeaking saddles and clanking bridles accompanied the girls out from under a canopy of trees into a sun-drenched field. Skye loved the meadow with its wildflowers, tall grasses, and the scent of scrub pines. They rode toward a campsite nestled at the base of three rolling hills in the distance, while the dogs leaped in the grass like dolphins.

The girls dismounted at the campsite, near a chuck wagon resting in a cluster of pines. To the wagon's left, nestled against a hill, stood an outdoor chapel with rows of hewn-out logs for pews. In the center of the chapel, a stone cross stood tall on a pile of mountain stone.

The altar
, Skye thought.
That's where I found out
what real love is all about.

“Wow! This place is awesome.” Sooze exclaimed.

“This is Piney Hollow,” Skye said. “The Chambers use it for picnics, church gatherings, and youth retreats.”

“Youth retreats?”

“Yeah, kind of like camping or cookouts with the Youth for Truth club from church. Hey, I just remembered,” Skye's voice bubbled with excitement. “There's going to be a retreat here in the fall with the church kids. It's Friday and Saturday. The girls sleep in the loft of the barn, and the boys do their macho thing out here in tents and sleeping bags. All the kids will be here — Morgan, Robin, Melissa, Doug, Chad.” Skye's face flushed, thinking about Chad. “Remember? You met them all at church.”

“Yeah.” Sooze scanned the area like a lost child looking for her mother. “But what do you do out here for two days? Watch the grass grow?”

The girls tied their horses to a hitching post and hung their hard hats on the saddle horns. They walked around the campfire area before Skye answered.

“Well, all the chow, including breakfast, will be cooked over a fire right here. Have you ever had eggs and bacon fried like that?” Skye asked.

“My mom and I never exactly went camping.”

“It's
so
great! Mom even makes biscuits over the campfire. After breakfast we usually go hiking and, of course, we have horses for trail riding. We spend a lot of time sitting around the campfire here and singing camp songs. Chad brought his guitar the last time, and Bobby brought his harmonica. Pastor Newman comes for supper on Friday. Then he talks to us at the chapel area.” Skye plopped down on a stump and grabbed a stick to poke at a pile of ashes in the center of the fire circle. “Probably the first thing we'll do on Friday is go on a hayride.”

Behind her, Sooze found a wooden crate and pulled it up next to Skye. “No way! You mean — that's it? Except for the horses, that sounds totally
boring
. Camp songs? Why can't we play our CDs and have some real fun?”

“Get off it, Sooze,” Skye answered. She ran both hands through her hair. “The campouts are fun.”

“Well, you never know. After all, I'll be there,” she smiled devilishly. “In fact,” she added while reaching into her jeans pocket and pulling out a handful of pills, “look what I have now.”

“Where'd you get those?” Skye asked with alarm.

“What, you think they wouldn't give me something to kill the pain?” She took four tablets from her hand and popped them into her mouth. “Want some?”

“Sooze, you can overdose on that stuff. What are you trying to do — hurt yourself?”

“Hey, get off my back. Right now it's the
only
way I'm going to get through this. And you better not snitch.”

“Like Mrs. C. isn't going to notice how fast they disappear.”

“I'll just tell her my head felt like it was exploding. Man, I'm dying of thirst.”

Skye rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it's a real scorcher today,” she said in a feeble attempt to change the subject. “We should've brought canteens.”

chapter nine

T
he excitement of the week-long Snyder County Fair ran through Skye's veins like electricity in a string of party lights — fun rides, pizza, and carnival games in perfect weather. But nothing made her heart pump as fast as the sights and smells of the horse show held every afternoon. For months, she and Champ had practiced for the Advanced Trail Class.

Skye's class finished and the gate opened, allowing her and the rest on the field to exit the show ring. With her glowing smile, she maneuvered Champ around the perimeter of the corral past dozens of horse trailers. The Chambers, Morgan and Blaze, and Sooze with Pepsi had all clustered along the show ring fence, waiting for Skye to join them.

Skye's hair, drawn back into a tight bun, rested securely under a suede cowboy hat, complete with hawk feather and leather braid. Her leather-fringed vest over a checkered shirt had the number “65” pinned on the back. Her blue necktie, cowhide gloves, and polished leather boots made Skye a perfect match for Champ.

Champ's shiny bridle with blue brow band set off a leather-cut saddle with a poncho roll highlighting his glistening sorrel coat. A lather of sweat added to Champ's sparkle as he tossed his head and snorted, showing off the shiny red ribbon attached to his cheek strap.

“Way to go, Skye!” Mr. Chambers applauded.

Mrs. Chambers patted Champ's neck. “In that tough class, second place is something to be proud of.”

“Awesome,” Sooze said, holding Pepsi's lead chain.

Morgan smiled underneath her tan Stetson, her folded arms resting across the horn of her saddle. “I told you the gate would be no big deal.”

“Yeah, thanks, guys.” Skye glanced at the packed grandstand and back. “The only problem we had was the water obstacle. Did you see Champ pause and then step to the side just a little? I think that cost us the blue ribbon.”

“Nonetheless, you did a great job,” Mr. Chambers said. “By this time — ”

“Attention, ladies and gentlemen,” the loudspeaker blared, “all contestants for the Beginner's Showmanship Class please line up at the east gate. Calling all contestants for the next event, the Beginner's Showmanship Class.”

Skye glanced at the grandstand again, looking for Chad. When she didn't see him, she focused back on Sooze, whose pallid face portrayed a strange mixture of panic and courage.

Sandwiched between the horse and the fence, Sooze fussed with Pepsi's halter and arranged the horse's banded mane one last time. Sooze's blue Stetson sat squarely on top of her wig. A black necktie, red plaid shirt, jeans with a silver belt buckle, and black cowboy boots had totally changed her looks. Somehow, Sooze's painfully thin frame looked stunning. Pepsi's blood-bay coat shimmered, and her black tail had been groomed to silky perfection.

“How do you feel?” Skye asked Sooze.

“Like I'm going to throw up.” Sooze made a face. “Not from the chemo. From my stomach doing back flips.”

Mrs. Chambers walked to Pepsi and checked the halter buckle. “All I can say is thank the Lord your treatment was in the middle of last week. It gave your body time to recuperate. You do feel strong enough to do this, don't you?” Mrs. Chambers looked into Sooze's eyes.

“I'm going in there if I have to crawl,” Sooze said nervously.

Morgan laughed, stroking Blaze on the neck. “Hey, maybe you can start a Beginner's Turtle Class!”

A preoccupied Sooze shifted her attention to the gate. “I think I ought to go. They're all lining up.”

“Let's say a quick prayer,” Mr. Chambers said when he finished checking the last of Pepsi's hooves.

While Mr. C. prayed, Skye watched Sooze with half-closed eyes. Her stare never wavered from the ring.

A little prayer would help you right about now!
Skye thought.

“Amen,” Mr. Chambers finished. He and his wife backed away from Pepsi. “Now take your time, Sooze, and listen carefully to the judge.”

“Yeah,” Skye injected, “this is no time to be doing your own thing. Be cool.”

“I don't have enough energy to do my own thing, thank you,” Sooze joked while leading the horse away. “Pepsi will do her own thing, and we'll be back with a blue ribbon. You'll see.”

“Careful, and don't rush!” Mrs. Chambers called.

“And try to get in the center, right in front of the judge when you line up,” Morgan yelled. “Let him get a real good look at one gorgeous hunk of horse flesh!”

Sooze led Pepsi toward the gate at the other end of the corral. The big, bold number “17” on Sooze's back distinguished her from the rest of the intermingling pack.

“Five — no, six others,” Skye said, pointing. She tugged the reins and turned Champ toward the ring. “A piece of cake for Pepsi.”

Mrs. Chambers leaned over the top rail of the fence. “It all depends on Sooze. Pepsi's got the confirmation to win this class hands down, but I'm not sure Sooze is thinking straight. Tom, did you get a good look at her eyes? She's been into her pain pills again. I should have locked them up. This morning I noticed they're disappearing faster than cotton candy,” she said seriously.

“Yeah, I noticed too,” Mr. Chambers agreed as he squared his Stetson. “This is no time to be taking a trip
without
your horse. I think she's going to learn a good lesson — but it breaks my heart.”

“Look at her butting into the center of the pack.” Morgan said. “I didn't mean for her to do it
that
way. I bet she never even said excuse me.”

BOOK: On the Victory Trail
3.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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