"Come on, give 'em here."
"They're really bad for you." Kristen ducked to the other side of her horse, giggling.
Travis sighed. Now he'd have to go chase her around for a while, or give up his last pack. They weren't too easy to get around here.
"Give 'em here." He just straightened up off the wall, but Kristen shrieked as if he were lunging for her, and ran out of the barn with her horse trotting behind her.
"Hey, get back here," Travis shouted from the doorway. Damn dumb kid. He felt stupid having to chase her, and mad that she could make him do it.
Kristen grabbed the short mane of her horse and swung up. She used the lead rope for a bridle, dancing Charlie in a small circle. He snorted nervously.
"I'm going to throw them in the water tank and lengthen your life."
"Yeah, and you'll shorten yours. Get back here."
He took a step. Kristen screamed and kicked Charlie into a trot. It was muddy down by the water tank--all the pony kids had hosed their ponies off earlier.
She really is going to do it, the little jerk, Travis thought as he ran after her. As Kristen twisted around to throw the pack over the rail into the water tank, the Star Runner, who had been trotting up and down at the far end of his paddock, charged the gate. He made a horrible squealing sound. With his head held low, swinging from side to side, his ears pinned flat, he seemed to Travis for a split second like some monstrous snake...
Kristen's horse scrambled sideways, lost his footing in the mud, and fell with her. Then he rolled to his feet, trotted a few yards, and began to eat grass. Kristen lay still in the mud.
Well, she's dead, Travis thought, oddly detached, as he ran down the hill. She had to be, he'd seen the horse roll on her. But he ran on, hearing Jennifer scream, "Casey! Casey!"
She was alive, her eyes were open and she was moving her lips. There was something wrong, though. Even in his first quick relief he knew there was something wrong...
"Don't move." Casey knelt beside her, pressing her back when she made a move to get up. How'd she get here so fast? he wondered. How ... then he saw Kristen's leg, there was something strange about the angle of her right leg, something weird sticking through her jeans...
He shivered, suddenly sick.
"What's wrong?" Kristen's voice sounded very young and breathless.
"What is it?"
"Your leg's broken," Casey said, "It's going to be okay, a broken leg heals. Travis."
He tore his eyes away from the bloody white piece of bone. He thought he was going to puke.
"Go call an ambulance. Tell Jennifer to call Kristen's mom, and tell her we're going to St. Francis Hospital. You can call nine-one-one for the ambulance. Got it?"
"Yeah." Having something to do cleared his mind.
"Casey, it hurts." Kristen sounded astonished and a little miffed.
"Sure it hurts," Travis heard Casey reply as he started back to the barn at a run. "It's probably going to hurt worse in a minute."
He rushed past a white-faced Jennifer to call nine-one-one. He had a hard time remembering the address and the operator got a little sharp with him.
Jennifer flatly refused to call Kristen's mom, so he had to do that too. He could see why: Kristen's mom went into hysterics and it was obvious that would have sent Jennifer into them too.
He got the mom off the phone and on her way to the hospital, had Jennifer sitting quietly on a tack box whispering, "I can't handle this," told Robyn to take care of Kristen's horse, made Kelsey go home instead of hanging around getting in the way.
Then he grabbed a horse blanket to take down to Casey. He'd seen a wreck once, everybody was putting blankets on everybody.
Kristen was whimpering by now, and Travis couldn't blame her, wanting to whimper himself every time he caught sight of her leg. Casey held her hand, talking quietly: "I know it hurts really bad, Kristen, but pretty soon you'll be at the hospital and they'll give you something: Just think, this time tomorrow it will barely hurt at all. Just hold on a little bit longer--"
It seemed more than a little bit longer to Travis by the time the ambulance arrived. Kristen screamed while they put her on the stretcher, and he thought he'd rather have the broken leg himself than be a helpless witness to it.
As the doors shut Casey said, "You know how many times I've told those kids not to fool around with the horses? I wish it'd been her goddamn neck."
Travis, almost shaking with reaction, could have slugged her. Then the lights and the siren went on, and the Star Runner, who'd been dancing up and down the far side of his paddock, took two giant strides across it and cleared the top rail. He also cleared Travis.
"Goddamn," Travis breathed. He ducked, seconds late. He watched the gray horse thunder down the pasture road, clear the gate, and disappear over the ridge.
"Goddamn."
"I knew he was going to do that," Casey said.
"Yeah? Well, thanks for the warning." Travis glanced at her. It could have been his neck--
Her head thrown back against the sky was a thing to stop your heart. Transfixed like a saint by a vision, Casey watched the empty horizon.
Travis suddenly knew why they called it falling in love. It did feel like falling, helpless, half terror and half exhilaration. Wishing desperately to call it off, Travis, wishing it undone, calling it stupid, senseless, hopeless, everything but a mistake, knew he was in love.
"That sucker can jump, can't he?" Casey asked. The joyful intensity of her voice made his pulse leap.
"Yeah." He choked, kicking around in the mud for his cigarettes, not daring to look at her any longer.
He hadn't known it was going to feel like this.
It was going to take getting used to.
Chapter 5
...I think you have captured a certain spirit here very closely...
It wasn't a rejection slip. He'd known it wasn't a rejection slip before he tore open the two envelopes. It was too long to be "We regret that your work doesn't meet our needs at present," or whatever a rejection slip said--he knew a rejection slip would be short and thin like a fortune in a cookie. This was a real letter, whatever it said; someone thought enough of the book to write him a real letter.
And flawed though it is, some of its flaws are as interesting as its virtues. I would like to speak to you personally about the possibility of publishing your work...
That meant yes. They were going to publish it.
Travis still stood at the end of the driveway where the school bus had left him. He usually checked the mailbox anyway, it was a long hike down to the house and Ken had asked him to--Ken invariably forgot and had to go back for it. Travis had been surprised to find how eagerly he looked forward to the mail--even letters from Mom. But today he'd slipped his hand into the short silver tunnel gingerly, as though expecting a snake...
I am going out of town for a few weeks and if possible, I'd like to visit you and discuss this with you.
My number is 212-555-4200.
Sincerely
Eleanor Carmichael
Editor-in-Chief
Travis walked up to the house, unsure of what he'd read, the words that were used, but just about positive that they meant he was going to get published. He'd sold his book. He stopped on the front step to read it again. Yeah, that's what it said. Possibility, hell, some New York bigwig wasn't going to fly out here and "discuss" with him unless they were pretty damn serious!
Fly out here. They had his old address at home, not this one. He was a lot farther away now. Maybe she couldn't make it now!
He dialed the number and got an operator telling him to dial 1 before the area code. Hell, he'd never dialed long distance before, nobody'd ever told him that.
"Eleanor Carmichael's office," a voice announced.
"I want to talk to her, Eleanor Carmichael."
"Who's calling please?"
"Travis Harris. She wrote me a letter--"
"Just a moment."
Travis danced in a
small circle, suddenly wishing he'd gone to the bathroom before calling.
"This is Eleanor Carmichael."
"Yeah. This is Travis Harris. I got your letter."
"I was wondering when I'd hear from you."
"I moved, I live in Oklahoma now, I just got the letter. Can you come out here?"
"If you're between New York and L.A. I can."
"Yeah, I think we are. Uh, Mrs. Carmichael, you going to publish it?"
"Ms."
"What?"