birthday something special."
Jan was wearing the matador outfit and wondering where her mother was when she heard the truck pull up outside. She put soup on to heat for another soup-and-sandwich supper. It was fortunate she'd set the burner on low. Otherwise, she might have let the soup boil over, because what her mother had to tell her blanked everything from her mind.
"The bank turned me down on the loan," Mom said. "They claim I don't have enough collateral left with what else I owe. I argued, butâ" Mom's face was screwed up in pained apology.
Jan couldn't meet her mother's eyes. She said, "No loan? Then what about the operation?"
"I don't know, Jan. We'll try and think of something else."
But there wasn't anything else they could do. Jan stood frozen in a black panic. She was still lost in it when Lisa came to the door to pick her up for the party. Both Lisa and the party seemed remote now, beyond the range of Jan's emotions or understanding.
"You ready?" Lisa said. "Hey, I like your costume. You're a matador, right?"
Lisa had on a black dress with veils and spangles. "I'm a witch," she said when Jan just stood there without saying anything.
Lisa's frown of confusion activated Jan. "I can't go," she said abruptly. "Something went wrong and I just can't go. I'm sorry, Lisa. I'm sorry, butâTell Brittany I'm sorry, too, will you?"
"What's the matter?" Lisa asked.
Jan opened her mouth and closed it again. Lisa had arranged for her mother go out of her way to pick Jan up. Jan owed her some explanation, but if she tried to tell the whole story, she'd break down and cry. "I just can't go," she said. "I'm really sorry." And she closed the door in Lisa's face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nothing felt good to Jan as she cleaned out stalls and fed and watered horses that Saturday after Halloween. A cold weight had settled in her chest. She tried and failed and tried again to think of a way to get the money for Dove's operation now that the bank wouldn't lend it.
At breakfast, Mom said, "There are loan places that advertise they'll give you money no matter what, but they charge such high interest that we'd never get the loan paid off. We'd likely end up losing the rest of the ranch and Dove in the bargain."
"Then let's not do that," Jan agreed soberly.
Sunday morning, after an hour of watching her mother worry her lower lip in silence, Jan suddenly realized that Mom wasn't coming up with a new idea. She was as stumped as Jan was. They were standing on either side of Dove, patting him down and loving him up, but he had retreated too deep into his suffering to be reached. Even his usually shiny coat was dull, and he couldn't seem to hold his head up for long. In desperation Jan said, "I'll call Grandma."
Mom shook her head. "She won't be willing to help for a horse. If you told her it was
you
who needed the operation, maybe."
"I can't lie, Mom. Can I?"
"No, I expect not. Well, now's a good time to try her. Should be evening in London. Maybe she'll do it for you, seeing as you're her one and only granddaughter."
Jan hated calling her grandmother in the best of circumstances. That imperious lady spoke in such an accusing way that right after "Hello" she could make Jan feel guilty. When Dad was alive, he'd called his mother dutifully, but he'd spent as little time in her presence as possible. "She hated ranch life, didn't think much of my dad or me, either," he'd said once. Jan had no doubt Grandma felt the same way about her and her mother.
She punched in the little-used overseas telephone number and perched on a kitchen chair, gripping the receiver while the phone rang.
"Yes?" Grandma's voice answered on the third ring.
"This is Jan. How are you, Grandma?"
"Jan? Is that you?"
"Yes, it's me." And because she couldn't think of any other small talk, she repeated, "How are you?"
"Not too well, if you really want to know. It's hard to get
up in the morning, and I can't find a way to lie in bed that doesn't pain me. What
Jan was wearing the matador outfit and wondering where her mother was when she heard the truck pull up outside. She put soup on to heat for another soup-and-sandwich supper. It was fortunate she'd set the burner on low. Otherwise, she might have let the soup boil over, because what her mother had to tell her blanked everything from her mind.
"The bank turned me down on the loan," Mom said. "They claim I don't have enough collateral left with what else I owe. I argued, butâ" Mom's face was screwed up in pained apology.
Jan couldn't meet her mother's eyes. She said, "No loan? Then what about the operation?"
"I don't know, Jan. We'll try and think of something else."
But there wasn't anything else they could do. Jan stood frozen in a black panic. She was still lost in it when Lisa came to the door to pick her up for the party. Both Lisa and the party seemed remote now, beyond the range of Jan's emotions or understanding.
"You ready?" Lisa said. "Hey, I like your costume. You're a matador, right?"
Lisa had on a black dress with veils and spangles. "I'm a witch," she said when Jan just stood there without saying anything.
Lisa's frown of confusion activated Jan. "I can't go," she said abruptly. "Something went wrong and I just can't go. I'm sorry, Lisa. I'm sorry, butâTell Brittany I'm sorry, too, will you?"
"What's the matter?" Lisa asked.
Jan opened her mouth and closed it again. Lisa had arranged for her mother go out of her way to pick Jan up. Jan owed her some explanation, but if she tried to tell the whole story, she'd break down and cry. "I just can't go," she said. "I'm really sorry." And she closed the door in Lisa's face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nothing felt good to Jan as she cleaned out stalls and fed and watered horses that Saturday after Halloween. A cold weight had settled in her chest. She tried and failed and tried again to think of a way to get the money for Dove's operation now that the bank wouldn't lend it.
At breakfast, Mom said, "There are loan places that advertise they'll give you money no matter what, but they charge such high interest that we'd never get the loan paid off. We'd likely end up losing the rest of the ranch and Dove in the bargain."
"Then let's not do that," Jan agreed soberly.
Sunday morning, after an hour of watching her mother worry her lower lip in silence, Jan suddenly realized that Mom wasn't coming up with a new idea. She was as stumped as Jan was. They were standing on either side of Dove, patting him down and loving him up, but he had retreated too deep into his suffering to be reached. Even his usually shiny coat was dull, and he couldn't seem to hold his head up for long. In desperation Jan said, "I'll call Grandma."
Mom shook her head. "She won't be willing to help for a horse. If you told her it was
you
who needed the operation, maybe."
"I can't lie, Mom. Can I?"
"No, I expect not. Well, now's a good time to try her. Should be evening in London. Maybe she'll do it for you, seeing as you're her one and only granddaughter."
Jan hated calling her grandmother in the best of circumstances. That imperious lady spoke in such an accusing way that right after "Hello" she could make Jan feel guilty. When Dad was alive, he'd called his mother dutifully, but he'd spent as little time in her presence as possible. "She hated ranch life, didn't think much of my dad or me, either," he'd said once. Jan had no doubt Grandma felt the same way about her and her mother.
She punched in the little-used overseas telephone number and perched on a kitchen chair, gripping the receiver while the phone rang.
"Yes?" Grandma's voice answered on the third ring.
"This is Jan. How are you, Grandma?"
"Jan? Is that you?"
"Yes, it's me." And because she couldn't think of any other small talk, she repeated, "How are you?"
"Not too well, if you really want to know. It's hard to get
up in the morning, and I can't find a way to lie in bed that doesn't pain me. What
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