Part 2 (2/2)
As Jeri photographed Dallas, she couldn't help wis.h.i.+ng she'd worn a bigger pair of jeans. She had to stretch to take the photos, and every time she reached up to snap a picture, she felt a breeze on her bare stomach. At least Dallas was too busy to watch her.
Jeri's heart leapt as Dallas and Show Stopper sailed over one barrier and hedge after another. If she didn't know better, she'd guess Dallas had been riding Show Stopper for years instead of an hour. Nikki could relax. Her horse was in good hands.
Rosa climbed on the bottom fence board beside her and hung her arms over the top. ”Getting some good pictures?”
”I think so.” Jeri shaded her eyes against the setting sun.
”Do you like Dallas?” Rosa asked. ”I could help you get him.” She gave Jeri's out.t a once-over. ”It wouldn't be that hard if you dressed like that every day.”
”I don't want to get him!” Jeri concentrated on taking more photos, glad for an excuse not to look at Rosa, but she felt the heat crawling up her neck.
”Playing hard to get?” Rosa wrinkled her nose. ”That's not my style, but it might work on Dallas.”
”Oh stop it, Rosa,” Jeri said. ”Dallas is friends with me, like he is with every girl.”
”It wouldn't have to stay that way.” When Jeri didn't respond, Rosa shrugged. ”Suit yourself. See ya later.” Rosa wandered over to a group of girls.
Jeri watched her go and then turned to take more pictures. Across the exercise ring, several small groups of people had lined up along the fence to watch. Jeri ignored them and kept taking pictures until Dallas .nished the last exercise.
Later, while Dallas brushed Show Stopper's glistening coat, Jeri carried buckets of water to the stall. In the corner by the hay bag, she noticed a dark cloth and bent to get it. It was a blue bandana. ”Is this yours?”
”Nope.” Dallas pulled one from his back pocket. ”Mine's right here.”
Jeri hung the dusty bandana over the stall door and then got an apple from the bucket that Sam, the stable hand, always left by the tack room.
”Here.” She handed it to Dallas.
”Thanks.” He glanced at her stomach, then away. ”Show Stopper earned it.”
”So did you!” Self-consciously, Jeri pulled her s.h.i.+rt down. ”Nikki was so worried earlier today. Thank you for doing this.”
Dallas grinned. ”I enjoyed it. We can't afford to board my horse at school, so this has been fun for me.”
”I know Nikki's grateful too.”
Suddenly tongue-tied, she turned quickly and bent to brush dust from her jeans. She liked being Dallas's friend, but she'd lied to Rosa earlier. She didn't want to just be friends with him. But would a boy as nice as Dallas C handler ever notice a girl as uncool as Jeri McKane?
She let out a big sigh. Talk about wishful thinking.
4.
danger, warning, caution.
Monday after school Nikki was waiting for Jeri when she got back to the dorm. Under her wild and uncombed hair, her face was a mottled red, but Jeri couldn't tell if she was sick again -or mad.
”What's wrong?” she asked, hanging her jacket on the hall tree.
”Your friend Dallas is a dumb cowboy!” she snapped. ”Show Stopper's sick today. Sam called from the horse barn.”
”Sick?” Jeri frowned. ”A fever? What?”
”He won't eat! Dallas must have fed him the wrong food! I bet he didn't cool him down after his workout either.”
”He did just what you told him to,” Jeri said. Nikki had a lot of nerve, even if she was worried.
”Well, Show Stopper's totally off his feed and really sluggish. Why?”
”I don't know. Maybe Sam should call the vet.”
”He did.” Nikki plopped down on the bottom step of the staircase. ”He couldn't .nd anything wrong.”
Jeri sat beside her. ”Show Stopper probably just misses you as much as you miss him,” she said.
”You think so?” Nikki gave a lopsided grin. ”Maybe you're right. Sorry.”
Jeri grinned back.
Late that night Jeri read her murder mystery in bed long after Rosa fell asleep. At the end of her chapter, her bedside clock read 11:21. She yawned so wide her jaws popped. If she didn't get to sleep soon, she'd snooze through her cla.s.ses tomorrow.
She headed to the restroom, her feet padding quietly in the empty hall. She'd .nished and was was.h.i.+ng her hands when she heard running footsteps. Brooke pushed open the restroom door and dashed to a stall. She was sick to her stomach once, then again.
And again.
The toilet .ushed, but Brooke didn't come out. Jeri .nally swung open the stall door. Overhead lights were bright, s.h.i.+ning down on Brooke where she sat on the tile .oor, eyes closed.
Jeri knelt beside her. ”Are you okay?”
”I'm .ne.” Brooke clutched her stomach. ”Now anyway.”
Jeri felt Brooke's forehead like her mom always did when Jeri had the .u. ”You don't feel feverish.”
”I think it was something I ate. I got hungry while I was doing homework, so I went downstairs for a piece of cold pizza.” She wrinkled her nose. ”It didn't stay down.”
”Was the pizza yours?” Each girl had her own small cupboard and a small labeled plastic container in the huge fridge for their own special food.
”Yeah, it was mine.” Brooke stared at Jeri. ”Why?”
”Nothing.” Jeri took Brooke's arm and helped her to her feet. ”What's that?” she asked, pointing to a rash on her hands. ”Maybe you have chicken pox or measles.”
”I don't. It's allergies, that's all.”
”Can you make it back to your room alone? I'll go get Ms. Carter.”
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