Summer of the Wolves Read online

  I went in the bathroom, stepping over Diana’s clothes, and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I’d thought a lot about how weird this vacation might be. When Daddy used to live in our same house, he went to work and back and hardly noticed me except to pat me on the head once in a while. Now it was like he went out of his way to pay attention to me. Because of everything going on in the family, there was this pressure. Pressure to be perfect.

  Like when you blow a big bubble with those little plastic wands, it looks so shiny and perfect, with the rainbows reflecting, but it’s nothing but a thin film of soap. Any minute it could pop.

  After I lined up my hairbrush and toothbrush and barrettes, I tried to ignore Diana’s sandals on the floor, but then I picked them up and put them in the closet by her bed. Downstairs, Daddy and Lynn were still unpacking. I told them I was going to look around, and they (naturally) suggested that Diana and I go together. I told them Diana had already headed over to the barn. Apparently they were preoccupied when she slammed the screen door.

  “I’m being patient with Diana,” I told Daddy when Lynn went outside to dump the ice from the cooler. “Extremely patient.”

  Daddy draped his arm across my shoulders and pulled me close to him. “Hey, come on, sport. It’s only the first day. You have to give these things time.”

  “Oooh-k-a-ay,” I said, making it sound like it was going to be a lot of work. I headed outside our cabin door and followed the gravel path toward the lodge.

  This fall I would start living with Daddy every other week and go to Diana’s school. He was fixing a room for me in their new house, and he said we’d have a party so I could get to know people. I could tell Diana didn’t want to. Diana was a year older than me, but we’d both be in eighth grade. Daddy said Diana had to repeat third grade when she changed schools after her parents got divorced. He said for me not to make a big deal about that. That kind of hurt my feelings. How could he even think I’d do that? Especially when I know how it feels to go through a divorce.

  As I approached the lodge, I saw three oak trees spreading a big old blanket of shade around them. Under one of the trees this tanned boy with spiky, light-colored hair was throwing horseshoes all by himself. He was skinny. Super-skinny, and I heard Mama’s voice in my head, “He’d have to run around in the shower to get wet.” As I walked by, the boy threw a wild shot that flew over the stake and hit the path in front of me.

  “Hey, grab it!”

  I reached for the horseshoe and missed, and it started tumbling down the hill. The boy ran in front of me, practically colliding with me, and finally caught the horseshoe when it slowed down and fell flat.

  He walked over and gave me a big old grin. “What can I say? I’m not on the Olympic horseshoe team.” He gave his head a little toss and rolled his eyes. “Actually, I don’t even know if horseshoes is an Olympic sport.”

  I laughed. “No.”

  “Oi say, old chop,” he said, faking an English accent. “Could I interest you in a game?” He was looking at me like he couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Well … I guess so.” I put my hands in my back pockets, following him up the hill to the horseshoe pit. He was pretty cute. “But you have to teach me.”

  “Splendid!” he said with the fake accent again, then switched back to his regular voice. “Hey, it’s not rocket science.”

  His name was Nick. He taught me to pitch the horseshoe underhanded in the direction of the stake. After he threw two in a row right around the stake, a lightbulb went on in my head.

  “Hey, did you throw that horseshoe at me on purpose?” I put my hands on my hips.

  “No way!” He gave this twitch and threw a horseshoe in the complete opposite direction of the stake. “Oops.”

  He held his hands out in a “What can I say?” gesture, and I couldn’t help laughing at his goofy grin. We kept on playing, and after a couple turns I got a horseshoe close enough to earn one measly point. I found out Nick was an only child and was at the ranch by himself with his parents. Then I asked what I really wanted to know.

  “Are you a good rider?”

  “No way,” Nick said.

  “You’re probably just saying that.”

  “Seriously,” Nick said. “I’ve only been horseback riding once in my entire life and that time I got on the horse backward.” Nick’s mouth twitched when he said this. He had exactly five freckles on his nose.

  “I saw that twitch!” I couldn’t stop laughing.

  All of a sudden the week was starting to look like a whole lot more fun.

  3

  DIANA

  My boots made scuffing noises and stirred up puffs of orange dust as I headed down the hill to the barn. Stephanie and Mom could go make a pot holder together. They could knock themselves out.

  During Mom and Norm’s honeymoon, I’d gone to Florida and stayed with Dad and his girlfriend, Susan, and got to hang around their apartment every day. Dad said next visit maybe he’d take a day off work and we’d go to Sea World. Dad didn’t nag me about my pills like Mom and Norm did. He never nagged me about what I had for lunch. Whether I’d taken a shower. I’d basically done whatever I wanted.

  Twice last month I texted Dad to see if I could come stay the rest of the summer. When I turned fifteen next month I could get a work permit. But I hadn’t heard anything back. Why hadn’t Dad texted me back?

  Mom said Norm really cared about me. She said that when someone reminded you to eat breakfast and take your pills or not to interrupt people’s conversations, it meant they cared about you. Blah, blah, blah. I know the pills make me calmer, but they make me feel so tired and boring. Like I have no feelings. Sometimes I’d rather be mad.

  When I got close enough to the barn I breathed in the smells of clean hay, the polished leather saddles and harnesses. One of the horses inside nickered softly. Maybe it was Copper, saying hello.

  There was something about that horse. I couldn’t wait to ride him.

  Horses didn’t ask questions like, “How are things going at school right now? Are you feeling more able to control yourself these days?” Horses took you for who you were. My shrink came up with this thing where I’m supposed to pick a number for my mood between one and ten. One being basically catatonically calm, i.e., dead. Ten being totally hyper and ready to self-destruct in ten seconds. Five being where you want to be. I call it the Moronic Mood-o-Meter. Anytime I’m anywhere near a barn, I’m a five.

  Two barn kittens were playing by the barn gate. One was tiger-striped and the other was black with a white face and paws. They were so cute! On a low stone wall beside the fence slept a big tiger-striped mother cat. One of the kittens jumped up on the wall. He shoved his little nose into the loose fur of her stomach, trying to nurse. With one swat of her paw, the mother cat knocked the kitten off the wall. The other kitten jumped up and tried to nurse. The mother just stood up and left. The poor kitten dangled from her teat as she walked away, dragging him for a few steps. Then he fell off the wall too. Both kittens tried to climb the wall to try again, but the mother ran away.

  “Do you have a mean mom?” I sat on the wall and scooped them both up. They mewed, high-pitched, and their tiny pliable claws pricked my skin. Their noses were pink and moist. I held them for a few minutes, feeling their small warm chests vibrate as they purred. Then they jumped from my lap and ran off looking for their mother again.

  I ducked through the barn door. Waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. The barn was laid out like a “T,” with the tack room and the office at the top of the T, and the stalls in rows at a right angle. Beams of light streamed through windows above the stalls, making the place seem kind of heavenly. A woman was in the office behind a glass window on the phone. Otherwise I had the barn to myself. I turned the corner and headed down the aisle between the stalls, looking for the little chestnut.

  Most of the horses were eating and only cocked their ears when I walked by. At the end of the row on the right, one head poked over the door of a st
all.

  It was him! I caught my breath when I saw his beautiful face. He had to have some Arabian in him. I’d read that Arabians could go up to five days without water because of their desert heritage. When I got close, he tossed his head. I remembered to slow down and talk to him quietly.

  “Hey, there, Copper, buddy, what are you doing? You are such a pretty boy! Yes, a very pretty boy.”

  He watched me come closer. His eyelids kind of closed. I held my palm out for him to nuzzle. Shoot, why hadn’t I remembered to find some sugar or a carrot? His muzzle was so soft, but he was nervous. I tried stroking his forehead, but he snorted and tossed his head.

  Head shy.

  I held my palm still, kept talking. He snorted again, then walked to the back of his stall, but he turned to look at me. A good sign.

  I talked some more. “You don’t trust me, do you Copper? It’s okay. It’s hard to trust people.”

  Copper took a step toward me, stopped, and tossed his head.

  “I would never hurt you. You seem a little wild, but I can tell you’re a very sweet boy.” Copper walked slowly across the stall. Put his head over the gate. Let me scratch between his ears.

  4

  STEPHANIE

  Right around sunset somebody rang a cowbell, and we headed over to the lodge for supper. The wooden tables in the dining room had silverware laid out on red checked napkins and big old pitchers of iced tea. As we walked by the salad bar, I saw Diana grab a handful of carrot sticks and shove them in her jeans pocket.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m going down to see a horse at the barn later.”

  Lynn slid into a chair near the end of one of the long wooden tables. Daddy was getting ready to sit next to Lynn, but then Diana plopped herself in that chair, so Daddy sat across from Lynn and I took the seat beside Daddy.

  Other people were filing into the dining hall. I looked for Nick but didn’t see him. The lady we’d seen before with that gray braid came up. Mama had always told me that when women reached a certain age they ought to cut their hair. The lady’s face was lined, and her hands were real red and wrinkled. Mama would call her a candidate for a complete makeover. More “catty” talk. But I thought the lady had a nice face, with laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. I liked her right off. “Good evenin’,” she said. “I’m Maggie, the head wrangler.” I liked the sound of her voice, a country accent that was both twangy and poetic. Southern, but different from the way Daddy and I talked. “So, everyone’s ridin’ tomorrow morning, right?” she asked.

  Riding? Her question was so sudden I thought I might faint.

  “I’m riding!” Diana jumped up and stuck her hand right in front of Maggie’s face, like some rude little kid. “I want you for my trail leader. And I want to ride Copper.”

  Maggie’s brown eyes widened, and she gave this gravelly chuckle. “We’ll see what we can do, darlin’. What’s your name?”

  “Diana. And I’m an advanced rider. I’ve been taking lessons for three years.”

  Diana was advanced! Even worse than I thought.

  “That so,” Maggie said. She looked at Diana a minute, then didn’t say anything else.

  “She’s intermediate,” Lynn said.

  “Okay. What about you, darlin’?” She looked at me.

  Before I could answer, Daddy said, “The girls can ride together.”

  I looked down at my plate. Why did Daddy always do this? It was almost like he was doing it on purpose.

  “You’ve taken lessons?” Maggie was still talking to me.

  “Yes, she has,” Daddy said.

  I stared at Daddy and started to say something, but clamped my mouth shut, feeling my cheeks go hot as a jalapeño pepper.

  “My wife signed us up for the adult trail ride,” Daddy went on. “I’m a city slicker, but my wife will take care of me.” He laughed and gave Lynn’s hand a squeeze across the table. I used to love all the dumb stuff he did, but lately it was embarrassing. Who said things like “city slicker”?

  “Well, sir,” said Maggie. She shifted her weight from one leg to another. “We’re very careful here. Horses are gentle animals for the most part, but I’ve been riding going on forty years, and believe you me, I have a healthy respect for them.”

  “My husband and I will be happy with the intermediate trail ride,” said Lynn, nodding. “Diana and Stephanie probably want to trot or canter some. Is that right, girls?”

  “Gallop!” said Diana.

  My insides turned watery.

  “Well, we have one trail ride for the young people, and what we do while we’re out there pretty much depends on the experience level of who we’ve got.”

  “Diana, you’ll watch out for Stephanie, won’t you?” Daddy said.

  Now he was asking Diana to babysit me!

  “Do I have a choice?” Diana looked like she was getting ready to barf. I saw Lynn point at her temple and tap two times. Diana looked away really fast.

  Just then Nick came in the dining room with his parents. Finally! The minute he saw me he waved, and just like that, he brought his mama and daddy over. He’d changed into a polo shirt. It was so cute the way he tried to slick down his hair for supper. He was smilin’ again, like he thought just about everything was something to smile about.

  “Nick and I met playing horseshoes today,” I explained to Daddy.

  “Will you folks be riding tomorrow?” Maggie asked as they got settled.

  Nick’s mama and daddy signed up for the same ride as Lynn and Daddy. Nick would be with Diana and me. I breathed a sigh of relief. With Nick along, even if Diana was mean, I could still have fun. And maybe the trail ride would be nice and slow.

  Our waiter brought us barbecued ribs made with the ranch’s special sauce, corn on the cob, and butter beans. He came back with baskets of homemade biscuits and plates with mounds of butter that looked like little beehives.

  “Everyone should stick around after dinner for a little welcome speech,” the waiter said. “They need to get head counts on who’s going to Cherokee, and who’s going white-water rafting. And then there’s housekeeping stuff, like how to keep the garbage away from the raccoons and bears, ranch rules, and so on.”

  “Bears?” Daddy said. “You’re not serious.”

  “Yessir.” Our waiter gave us a grin as he headed over to the next table.

  Our parents introduced themselves as they passed the platters.

  “I’m Charlene Hansford and this is my husband Ray,” said Nick’s mother. “Nick is so glad there are other kids his age here. He’ll be in eighth grade.”

  “So will our girls!” Lynn said.

  “We have zero in common,” said Diana, and then she laughed really loudly. The conversation came to a complete halt. All the grown-ups stared at her. I felt my face getting hot again.

  “You two have lots in common,” Lynn said, and she gave Diana a look. She did that tapping thing again on her temple, then reached across the table and patted my hand.

  I gave a ghost of a smile. Whoa, this was embarrassing. I could hardly look at Nick.

  “I’m Norm Verra and this is Lynn, my bride,” Daddy said smoothly. “We got married just last month.”

  “Congratulations,” said Nick’s mom.

  “You’re Stephanie’s dad, right?” said Nick. “You look alike.”

  “That’s right.” Daddy grinned. “Stephanie and Diana are both awfully lucky to have gotten a new sister out of the deal. Isn’t that right, Steph?” Daddy put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder.

  I smiled, then looked down, made sure my napkin was folded in my lap the way Mama taught me.

  Right, Daddy.

  5

  DIANA

  Ugh! Stephanie had already met a guy! What a preppie, with those khaki shorts and yellow polo shirt and slick blonde hair. Not my type. Though I hadn’t exactly zeroed in on “my type,” since most boys acted like I had leprosy. But I could tell this guy Nick liked Stephanie. He kept wat
ching her and smiling and making lame jokes. It was as bad as Norm around Mom.

  As soon as the parents said the kids could be excused, Stephanie said, “Y’all want to play horseshoes?”

  I said, “Nah,” but Nick gave this stupid-looking grin and said, “Sure!”

  His dad said, “Go ahead, have fun,” and Nick and Stephanie jumped up from the table and practically ran out the door.

  Stuck with the grown-ups. Talk about feeling like a complete idiot. Now Mom would say, “Diana, why don’t you go play with them?” And I’d try to ignore her, and then she’d say something else, like, “Go ahead, sweetie, you’ll have a good time.” And then I’d say, “Leave me alone,” and go straight to the barn. And then, in just a few minutes, maybe Mom would come down and find me to make sure I was okay.

  On cue, Mom said, “Diana, why don’t you go play?”

  “Only two people can play horseshoes at once, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “You can switch off. They want you to play, I know they do.”

  “Hurry up,” Norm added. “They’re probably starting the game already.”

  “Go ahead, honey. You’ll have fun.”

  I pushed my chair back from the table and flung open the screen door leading outside. When I turned the corner I saw Nick and Stephanie by the horseshoe pit, laughing and poking each other.

  Through the window, I watched Norm move into my empty seat. Put his arm around Mom, obviously telling some lame story. Everyone was laughing. Mom looked like someone in a Happy Meal commercial.

  I raced down the road toward the barn. The sun dropped lower. Red and purple started to leak across the horizon like watercolors bleeding across a sheet of paper. A cool, damp breeze tickled the hairs on my arms, and I rubbed my hands over them.

  How the heck had Stephanie gotten to know Nick so quick? Geez, we’d only been here a few hours.

  Last month, after Mom and Norm got back from their honeymoon, Stephanie came and stayed with us for a weekend. Saturday night I walked in the computer room and Stephanie was online with about thirty people at one time. Boxes popping all over Stephanie’s screen with those little sparkling tones that made you feel oh so popular and cool.