"Sorry, honey, I was just watchin' that round. Those ol' quarter horses are the kind I like. That one is quicker than a cat, ain't he? Some of these skinny ol' Thoroughbreds look like poor feeders to me. Oh, yeah, well, I couldn't afford any fancy lessons, but my brother, he's a horse trader and an auctioneer and he asked around about jumpin' trainers, and he heard this lady, Jessie Quincy, was supposed to be the best. And I drove Katherine over there and she talks Ms. Quincy into lettin' her work in exchange for lessons; Ms. Quincy done that with a couple of other little gals and sometimes it worked out, and sometimes it didn't; but she never had anybody who worked like Casey, both groomin' and ridin'. Time she's sixteen she was gettin' paid to ride, she was giving lessons.
"About a year ago she turned pro, and at the same time my brother tells us Ken Harris is lookin' to lease his barn. There was a crazy bronc out at the Circle J racing stables that keeps jumpin' out of his paddocks. Real fast, my brother says, but so loco none of the jockeys want to mess with him. The owner was ready just to put him down.
"Casey came back from lookin' at him and she says, 'Momma, this is it.' "
"Is what?" Travis asked.
He saw that Mrs. Kencaide was watching the entry gate where Casey had ridden up on the bay.
It took him a couple of seconds to recognize her; she'd been wearing a sweat suit over her riding breeches and white shirt to keep them clean. She was in a dark gray riding jacket and black velvet hard-hat; her long legs in knee-high black boots. She looked like an elegant Park Avenue preppy. It was the first time he'd seen her wearing lipstick.
"On course, Casey Kencaide on Secret Sam."
All the horses had barn names, what everyone called them at home, and show names, that they went by at shows. Travis thought it was kind of goofy. Secret Sam was called Stinker at home.
Casey made a large warm-up circle, trotting the bay around several of the jumps. A lazy, almost deadhead horse on the flat, Stinker got nervous jumping, and Travis realized Casey was letting him get a look at the jumps. She put him into an easy canter for the first line, got him back under control as he tried to run away after the second--he spooked out at the red brick wall, but Casey made him come back and drove him over it to finish the course.
There was a smattering of applause from the stands, but as Casey left the ring she looked back to the stands to her mother and smiled.
"That's my gal," Mrs. Kencaide said. "I knew I had me a lion cub right from the start."
Travis had a sudden bite of envy, mixed with homesickness, mixed with missing his own mom and being disgusted with himself for it. He left the stands hastily.
So why does she have to be the only kid I know who likes a parent? he thought sourly as he took Stinker's reins.
"Cool him off a little before you untack him," Casey said.
She was the first person he'd seen coming out of the arena breathing normally.
"I'd have whacked him one for running out like that," he said.
"He hasn't jumped enough to know if he likes it. I want him to like it. I hope Amber's in the schooling ring."
Casey ran off and Travis ran the stirrups up the stirrup straps so they wouldn't flap around.
"I'll cool him off for you." It was Kelsey.
"No, it's my job," Travis snapped at her. He was vaguely aware that Kelsey had a crush on him, just as he realized the mild commotion he was causing at the show. Males were few and far between in this sport. But he was so sick of girls. Just one night, just one night of cruising with his old buddies and tossing down a few beers and talking, really talking...
Something grabbed him around the leg. The first thing that flashed across his mind was a sex-crazed dog--it was Christopher.
"Hey," he said, "don't scare the horse."
"You wouldn't say hi." Christopher looked up at him with Teresa's dark eyes. "We said hi."
"Geez, kid, you do live in outer space half the time, don't you?"
Travis realized that Ken was standing right in front of him, trying to get his attention.
"What's up?" he said finally.
"We've been to get haircuts."
It shows, Travis thought. A haircut shouldn't look, well, new like that. For a panicked second he wondered where he'd go around here--surely there was a SuperCuts somewhere...
"And your mom called. She's been trying to tell you she'll sign the contracts after all. She wants you to call her later."
"Oh." So he'd won! Beat ol' Stan out on this one! "Great."
"Whooee." Another guy about Ken's age came up to them, holding a little girl by the hand. He was staring around at the riders. "This is paradise."
Dirty old geezer, Travis thought.
"This is my friend Steve Slade," Ken said. "My nephew, Travis."
"The famous writer?" Steve said, shaking his hand. Travis looked at Ken, who shrugged.
"So I bragged a little."
Travis felt like laughing out loud. Everything suddenly looked brighter. "What's up?"
"We bachelor dads are going to go eat pizza and watch football and let the kids kill each other."
Travis had a second of longing to go with them ... Geez, just to be around some guys--
"Daddy," the little girl said suddenly, "I want a pony."
"Sure, honey," Steve said. "We'll see."
"I must have a pony," she insisted. Ken and Steve laughed.
Travis watched her watching the ponies, and knew Steve had nothing to laugh about.
"So, you gonna sign the contracts?"
&
nbsp; He didn't mean to sound so sharp--the day at the horse show had just about done him in. He'd missed Casey's hunter round on the Star Runner (there seemed to be some big difference between "hunter" and "jumper" classes, but he hadn't figured out what) because he was rushing around helping Amber tack up--and it turned out to be the wrong class anyway.
And the Star Runner had slammed on the brakes at a four-foot wall and Casey went over his head to land on it. Travis was convinced she had broken some ribs, but she refused to go to the emergency room and had actually laughed when he suggested not riding tomorrow.
So even though he was glad to talk to Mom, and excited about the contracts, it was hard to get his mind off the show. It was like his mind had turned into a seesaw, sometimes the book was the high part and everything else disappeared, sometimes it was Casey and these goddamn horses, and sometimes it raced up and down till he was dizzy.
"Yes, I am, hon. You were right, the book is something you did on your own--"
"How's Stan takin' this?" he asked suddenly. "He's not beatin' up on you?"
"Oh, no, hon, Stan's never beat up on me. Travis, where'd you get such an idea?"
Are you nuts? he wanted to shout, but instead said, "Must be my vivid writer's imagination."
"Honey, you know except for those two times when he was unemployed and I was naggin' him, Stan's never hit me."
Travis didn't say anything and she added, "And if you'd been halfway nice to him you wouldn't have gotten hit either."
She sounded like she was crying. Travis rolled his eyes. This'd teach him to call home.
"Hey"--he changed the subject--"how's Joe doin'?"
"I don't know, he hasn't been around lately." She sniffled. "How's the cat?"
The cat. Travis suddenly realized Motorboat hadn't been around much lately either.
"He's in the barn a lot, there's mice out there."
Motorboat, in fact, had become obsessed with the mice, and Travis couldn't get his attention. And the cat had sort of fallen in love with Silver Hawk, leaping from the gate to his back, where he huddled and did happy paws, purring like an electric drill. He sat in the pony's food box while it ate, and rolled in the dirt in front of the jumps when Molly rode, apparently never dreaming he could be trampled.
And now Travis realized he'd been so preoccupied himself he hadn't really cared.
"Well, I'm glad he's earning his keep."