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Reno and the Rodeo

By Josie D. Lee

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Josie D. Lee
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-7316-9

Chapter One

"Melvern, forty-two miles," Jo blurted out, pulling her waist-length, red denim jacket around her shoulders.

"What's that, Peaches?" David Anders asked, glancing in the rear view mirror of their blue sedan.

Her father's black cowboy hat sat askew on a shock of graying brown hair. Only his right eye and cheek were visible to her in the small mirror. If only she could see the expression on his face. She especially liked the pet name he called her.

"Forty-two miles to home and Reno," she answered excitedly, sliding forward in the seat. "There will be only a few hours of daylight left when we get home; just enough time to brush, saddle and ride Reno for thirty minutes. I've got to start working on figure eights right away," she continued breathlessly. "Kimberly and I agreed to work our horses together as soon as I could ride again. We have to start by walking them, before jogging or running the pattern. We can't waste any time."

Jo was dressed for the workout, in blue jeans and light blue cowgirl shirt. She would only need to slip out of her shoes and into her western boots.

"Hold on there, Jo Anders," her mother interrupted without looking back. "Doctor Johnson released you today with strict instructions to continue leg-strengthening exercises. Just because he removed the last cast doesn't mean your leg is one hundred percent healed."

Jo scrunched her face in a scowl. Her leg had broken in two places. She had vivid memories of the entire ordeal. But she was ready to put all of that in the past.

The carefully styled blonde pageboy was all that Jo could see of her mother; however, her voice was crisp and clear.

Beverly Anders turned around to look at Jo with determination. "Your father and I decided that you should concentrate on something other than riding for the next week. Piano practice would be the perfect exercise since you have to use your right foot and leg muscles on the pedals. Besides, if you took piano as seriously as riding Reno, you could be a great musician someday." The oversized sunglasses didn't hide Beverly's deep frown. "I wish you would appreciate your musical talent."

That was the last thing Jo wanted to hear. She didn't care one bit about playing the piano. Anyway, there were only ten weeks until the school year ended and she needed to maintain her "B" average. It was the first part of March, leaving only three weeks until the first horse show. Of course, Jo was accustomed to her mother's theatrical demeanor when she was making a point.

"Some thirteenth birthday celebration," Jo grumbled, tears welling up in her sky blue eyes. "Thirteen definitely wasn't a lucky number for me last December. Instead of ice skating that day, I should have been riding Reno. I'm not blaming anyone, but Kimberly was the one who insisted I be the last one on the crack-the-whip line. It was my birthday. I should have said `No'."

"Oh, don't fret, Peaches," her father tried to console her. "Remember your excitement when everyone from Whitewater Farms surprised you with that party at the skating rink? Well, that's how you'll feel when you start riding again."

For as long as Jo could remember, she had dreamed of becoming Junior Rodeo Queen. She had finally reached the age of eligibility on December 13. She'd had high hopes for her and Reno before that ugly fall on the ice.

"Nothing is going to keep me from competing in the rodeo this year," Jo insisted. "Reno hasn't even been trail ridden all winter. How can we be ready for the rodeo finals in June?" she sniffed loudly. "Reno can be a great rodeo horse, but I've got to start working him on the barrel patterns."

Jo pulled a blue tapestry pillow under each arm and rested her head against the window. "Kimberly is going to be very disappointed when she finds out that it will be a whole week before we can work our horses. You know she trained with a professional for three years before coming to Whitewater Farms. Everybody will get a head start on me this year. It doesn't seem fair."

While her parents talked in muffled tones, Jo settled quietly. She peered out the windows at what seemed to be miles of freshly plowed fields.

Fluffy gray clouds cast moving shadows over the distant hillside. The car tires sounded a soothing, almost musical, hum on the asphalt highway. Jo imagined the fun she could have running her liver-chestnut gelding over the mounds, his blonde mane and tail flailing in the breeze.

THUMP! Jo was held steadfast by her seat belt, avoiding being thrown against the back of the front seat.

"Good grief, David, what are you doing?" her mother shouted as he maneuvered the car around a truck stalled on the highway.

"Didn't want to hit that truck," he snarled. "The van ahead of us didn't break until he was almost on it."

Jo leaned back against the seat, flipping her shoulder-length ash blonde hair away from her face. "Hey, we're almost home!" she squealed. "There's Melvern Lake."

Within minutes Mr. Anders turned off the highway onto the gravel road leading to Whitewater Farms. Two eight-foot black columns flanked the gated driveway. Atop each column sat enormous white marble eagles like sentinels guarding Whitewater Farms. The regal entry contrasted with the farm's white vinyl-clad fencing. Elm trees lined each side of the long driveway to the house. The Slippery elms had a majestic look with their green fingertips showing new spring growth. The horse barn was obscured by a grove of cottonwoods and oaks.

"Garrett will have already fed the horses," Mr. Anders remarked with a sound of relief. "That's one less chore I'll have to do this evening."

"Supper will be ready in about an hour, David," Mrs. Anders patted his shoulder. "So don't get busy with anything that can be done tomorrow."

"I don't want any supper," said Jo. "A banana will be enough for me until breakfast."

"Wonder what brings Aunt Dottie out here?" Mr. Anders asked as he braked the car to an abrupt stop.

Aunt Dottie's apple-red van was parked against the arbor where morning glorys would soon be blooming in bright array.

Jo didn't wait to hear further comments. She flung the car door open and sprang from the back seat. Bouncing up and down like a basketball on a trampoline, she clapped her hands and shrieked, "Wheee-e-e." The outburst startled her mother and father.

"What are you shouting about?" her mother asked sounding annoyed.

"Please, please let me ride for only a few minutes," Jo pleaded. "It's a beautiful evening for riding."

"Not yet, Peaches," her father responded firmly.

Suddenly, Aunt Dottie appeared from behind the house carrying clusters of English Hawthorne and bright yellow jonquils.

"Aunt Dottie, guess what!" Jo yelled, hurrying up the banked driveway.

"Whoa, slow down. What's all the excitement about?" Aunt Dottie asked.

The late afternoon sun gave Aunt Dottie's auburn hair a coppery sheen. She wore a blue cable-knit sweater, blue-and-white plaid skirt and knee-length argyle socks. The yellow jonquils were a stark contrast against her clothes. Mr. Ander's younger sister managed Anders' Hardware store in Melvern.

"Doctor Johnson dismissed me," Jo said cheerfully. "Isn't that great?"

"Yes, yes," Aunt Dottie replied. "I suppose you'll start riding at the crack of dawn."

"No," Jo groaned. "Mom and Dad decided I should spend a whole week strengthening my leg before attempting to ride...