Southern Belle's Special Gift Read online

  “Hey,” Skye said softly. Tanya and the foal turned their heads toward her. “Well, aren’t you two a pair. Her mane looks too cool. Where’d you get that idea?”

  “I saw it in a horse magazine. It not only looks cool, but it helps keep all that fuzzy mane hair from getting knots and tangles. Do you really like it?” Tanya turned back to her task.

  “Yeah, I do,” Skye said. “Tanya, did you forget it’s time for ensemble practice? All the kids are up there waiting.”

  Tanya glanced at her watch. “Wow! I completely forgot. I was waiting for someone to call and remind me.”

  “Mom did call several times, but the rain bouncing off the roof must’ve drowned out the phone.”

  “Tell them I’ll be up as soon as I finish this.”

  “But everybody’s waiting!”

  “They waited for me for thirteen years. They can wait ten more minutes!”

  “Tanya!” You spoiled brat! “We don’t have all night!”

  Tanya brushed the foal as though Skye wasn’t even there.

  “For your own good,” Skye’s voice softened, “you’d better come up now. You can keep the group waiting, but you better not mess with Mrs. C. If you get grounded now, you’ll be out of this barn faster than you can say boo.”

  “All right, all right, I’m coming,” Tanya griped. She stood and stroked the foal on its neck. “Don’t go crazy.”

  Skye started walking away. “I’ll tell them you’re coming—now! Oh, and I hung your raincoat on the outside of the stall. You’ll need it.”

  Skye walked away, listening for a thank you that never came. She slipped out the barn door and charged back to the house. “Why do I even bother?”

  Several minutes later, both Skye and Tanya were in their places, their soaking wet sneakers left at the kitchen door. The group practiced “until their fingers were mush,” Bobby said. Mrs. Chambers directed for timing and helped Tanya adjust her pitch and volume to the rest of the group. Finally, as the setting sun peeked out from under the dispersing rain clouds, the ensemble finished the “Lord, Send Me Anywhere” medley for the last time.

  “Excellent,” Mrs. Chambers said. “You kids did a great job. That piece is ready for the conference. Very nice work.”

  “Mrs. C.,” Morgan said, “can we get the iced tea and brownies out now?”

  “Sure,” Mrs. Chambers said.

  “I’ll help,” Skye said as she and Morgan headed toward the kitchen.

  “Brownies!” Bobby exclaimed, poking at his glasses. “What a noble reward for our hard work.”

  “Are you sure your mushy fingers can handle a brownie?” Melissa laughed.

  “If I know Bobby,” Chad said, “he’d grab the brownie with his toes if he had to.”

  In the kitchen, Morgan opened the refrigerator door. “I’ll get the brownies and tea,” she said to Skye. “Do you wanna put the napkins and cups on the table? Oh—and grab that bag of chips in the cupboard too.”

  “Got it,” Skye said. She walked to the sink to wash her hands. Outside, the beauty of a setting sun bathed the earth in glistening shades of pink. Her gaze wandered to the right to the picnic grove. It nestled comfortably under towering pines that still bowed with the weight of their rain-soaked branches. Straight ahead, Skye studied the grass in the fenced-in field, each blade a diamond as the sun’s rays splashed off the mantle of rain droplets. To the left, the red barn looked even redder, and…

  Wait! What is that? Skye asked herself. Is that the neighbor’s dog running through our yard again? Hey, that’s not a dog! That’s a little horse!

  “Oh, no! The foal’s outside the barn!” Skye called out, leaning forward on the sink and staring out the window. “She’s drenched! She must’ve been out in all that rain!”

  “What!” Morgan motored to the sliding door in the dining room. “Mrs. C., come quick!” she yelled.

  “What’s wrong?” Mrs. Chambers ran into the room.

  “The foal’s out, and she’s soaking wet,” Skye yelled, wiping her hands on her jeans. “We’ve got to get her in the barn and warmed up. Fast.”

  “Tanya!” Mrs. Chambers said, turning back to the living room. “The foal was out in all that rain. You must have forgotten to close the barn door.”

  Tanya ran into the kitchen, fear plastered all over her face. The other kids followed close behind. “I can’t remember if I did,” she said. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Well, it looks like you didn’t!” Skye snapped as she knelt, forcing on her wet sneakers and wrestling with the laces. “I told you she’d follow you like you were her mother. She’s drenched. If we don’t get her warmed up soon, she could catch pneumonia.”

  “Pneumonia!” Tanya shrieked. “That could kill her!”

  Skye stood and turned toward the door, but Tanya flew past her and out the door first, without her sneakers. Skye followed, and they ran flat out toward the foal.

  “Tanya, wait!” Skye yelled, slowing down. “We’ve got to approach her easy. She’s scared from being in strange surroundings. We don’t want her to take off and run out on the road.”

  Tanya slowed to a walk, creeping slowly in her bare feet on the slippery grass.

  “Now just take it easy,” Skye said. “You move to her right, and I’ll go to the left. We’ll try to get her to go back toward the barn.”

  “Okay,” Tanya squeaked, her voice obviously shaken with fear.

  “Skye, I’m behind you to your left!” Skye heard Mrs. Chambers yell from the side of the house. “I’ll try to block her if she heads up this way toward the road!”

  The filly stood a short distance from the barn at the edge of the lawn. Eyes wide with fear, body trembling from the chill of the rain, she watched the two girls approaching. Her beautiful cocoa-colored coat glistened a brownish pink, and her mane and pink halter made her look like a carnival doll. She let out a weak baby-horse whinny, and her ears tipped forward toward the girls.

  “Here, baby.” Tanya sniffled, hand outstretched as she crept toward the foal. “Come, baby. We won’t hurt you.”

  Skye approached the foal, one careful step at a time, trying not to spook her. She held her arms out like she wanted to give the foal a big hug.

  The filly looked at Skye and braced itself, ready to run like the wind.

  “Here, baby,” Tanya said, closing to within a few feet.

  The foal’s head jerked toward Tanya. It let out another loud whinny.

  The girls froze.

  The foal took a step—then another—slowly—carefully—toward Tanya.

  In slow motion, Tanya reached out. Her hand inched its way forward and then crept around the tiny halter.

  Skye crept her way toward the foal—ever so slowly—then carefully slipped her arms around its neck.

  And they had her!

  “Whew,” Skye breathed out in a whisper. “Let’s get her back in the barn. We need to get her dried off quickly.”

  “Okay,” Tanya said, as tears streamed down her face and her whole body shook. Her free hand quivered as it slid down over the foal’s rain-soaked back. “I’m so sorry, baby,” Tanya wept. “I’m so sorry.”

  Chapter twelve

  Three evenings later, Dr. Gonzales knelt with Mr. Chambers over the still form of the foal on a soft bed of straw. Skye, Mrs. Chambers, and Tanya had all lined up inside the stall. Morgan sat in the doorway.

  “I’m afraid it’s pneumonia,” the doctor said, his stethoscope finding its way to the filly’s chest and belly. “It’ll be a miracle if she makes it.”

  “No-o-o,” Tanya sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean it!”

  Skye stood with her arms folded and her heart breaking. Tanya, this time it was your fault. Then Skye prayed, God, please do a miracle so Tanya can see that you’re real.

  Mrs. Chambers stood between Tanya and Skye, her arms around their waists. “We’ll do everything we can. She could pull through.”

  “Miracles do happen,” Morgan said.


  “We’ll do our best and leave the rest in the Lord’s hands,” Mr. Chambers said. “But now she’s going to need round the clock care for sure. Tanya—”

  “I’ll do it, Mr. C.!” Tanya fell to her knees in front of the foal and touched its neck gently. “I’ll move right in here with her and make sure she gets all her meds. I’ll keep her warm and clean.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeves.

  “Tomorrow starts the Memorial Day weekend. Tanya can spend all three days with the foal,” Mrs. Chambers said.

  “And if I have to, I can miss a few days of school next week—no problem,” Tanya said, sniffling. “I’ll make it up. I promise.”

  “Oh, we should know by Monday,” Dr. Gonzales said. “And I’ll be back then to check on her.”

  “But it’s a holiday,” Mr. Chambers said.

  “Sickness takes no holiday,” said the vet. “That’s one fact any doctor is resigned to. If I have to work on a holiday, I’ll work. Besides, this case is serious. I’ll be here at two o’clock sharp. By then, the fever should have broken, if—and that’s a big if—she’s going to make it.”

  “Tell me exactly what to do,” Tanya cried, “and I’ll do it, starting right now.”

  You could start by learning to close barn doors, Skye wanted to scream. Love her, Mrs. Chambers’ words echoed. “Mom, could I move down here with Tanya? Then she’ll have company.”

  “I don’t need anybody with me,” Tanya said. “I know what to do.”

  “You can always use help with the foal,” Mrs. Chambers said.

  “Yeah, even though there aren’t any diapers,” Morgan added.

  “Look, Tanya,” Skye said sharply—and then her tone changed, “I’ll run errands for you. I can heat the formula, and answer the phone, and I can even bring your meals down.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Tanya said.

  I’d do it for the baby, Skye thought. “Yeah, why not?” she said. And I’ll do it for you too.

  “Wow! Unreal!” Tanya’s face displayed welcomed surprise.

  In less than an hour, the girls had everything set up in the foal’s stall. Each had staked out a corner with her sleeping bag, clip-on reading lamp, books, and a bag full of essential junk. Skye was finishing a snack of pizza and soda.

  Not hungry, Tanya sat on the hay, her back against the wall. The foal, its frail body covered with a red horse blanket, lay asleep with its head resting on Tanya’s lap. It struggled for every breath. Tanya stroked the filly’s neck and dabbed its runny nose with a tissue while she watched her carefully. Skye sat on her sleeping bag, legs crossed, reading the Bible and filling in answers in a devotional guidebook.

  “You’re really into this religion stuff, aren’t you?” Tanya said.

  “It’s not religion stuff,” Skye said softly, thrilled to have the opportunity to share her faith with Tanya. “When I accepted Christ as my Savior, he became my very best friend. He’s always there when I need him, like, right now. He can heal that little foal.”

  “Yeah, but what if he doesn’t want to?” Tanya sneered. “That would be just plain cruel. This baby is so helpless!”

  “Tanya, it’s not God’s fault. Don’t blame him for your own stupid mistake. We just have to believe he knows what’s best for us—and the foal. By the way, when did you give her the last dose of meds?”

  “At eight. She took it pretty well. I think her breathing sounds better, don’t you?”

  “A little. When’s her next bottle?”

  Tanya blew her nose and looked at her watch. “In an hour. She’s not taking bottles well, though. I hope she drinks more than the last time. Until her next feeding, I need to try to finish a report for English class. Hand me my book and stuff. It’s all there in the corner near my pillow.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Skye said.

  “I try to keep up with my assignments, but it’s so hard to concentrate. If anything happens to her, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “Listen, we’re doin’ all we can. She’ll make it. You’ll see.”

  “Man, I sure hope so. Oh, I forgot. I need the gigantic dictionary up in my room. It’s on the top of my bookshelves. Get it for me.”

  Skye made a face, ready to lash back at Tanya’s bossy tone. Instead, she forced a smile and handed Tanya’s book and paper to her. “I’ll go get your precious dictionary. Don’t go away.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. No matter how long this takes, I’m here until the foal’s up on her feet again.”

  Skye hurried from the barn to the house, where she found Mrs. Chambers sipping coffee at the dining room table. Tip and Ty lay at her feet. “Hi, Honey,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “The queen—oops—I’m sorry—Tanya needs the dictionary from her bedroom.”

  “Just think of all you’re learning,” Mrs. Chambers said with a laugh. “If you ever want to start your own maid service, you’ll know just what to do.”

  “Yeah, right.” Skye said, heading toward Tanya’s room.

  Inside, Skye zeroed in on the bookshelves covering most of one wall. They displayed six rows of Tanya’s “favorite” books. There are more here than at the town library! Skye decided. On the top shelf rested a humongous book.

  Skye hurried around the bed and reached up, pulling the dictionary forward and bracing her arms to catch it. As it fell, a much smaller book and a cluster of papers tumbled to the floor.

  “Great,” Skye said. “More maid service.”

  She tossed the dictionary on the bed and knelt down, quickly gathering the papers and reaching for the book. It lay opened, face down. “Five-Year Diary” was printed in gold letters on a burgundy leather cover.

  “Wow!” Skye said, picking up the opened book. “Tanya keeps a diary?”

  Don’t look, Skye told herself, pausing. It’s wrong. She started to close the book, but her curiosity forced the pages open. Turning the book around, Skye looked down.

  What could Tanya ever write that would be of any interest to me? Skye argued. Oh, go on. No big deal, she decided and then looked even closer. She smoothed the page, took a deep breath, and read:

  “Dear Diary, I’ll be ten tomorrow, and I don’t even care.” Skye stopped and then gawked at the last few words.

  Skye read on. “Another week here at Gram’s. I hate it. She still blames me for Mom dying. I feel like running away and never coming back. I wish Mother and Father knew how much I hate it here, but they’re always too busy.”

  Skye shut the book, her eyes wandering to a poster mounted on the wall. BOOKS CAN BE SOME OF YOUR BEST FRIENDS, it read. A stack of colorful books in the arms of a laughing elf helped make the point.

  Tanya’s grandmother blames her for her mother’s death? Skye thought. But why?

  Tentatively, she looked at the book again, sliding the pages open near the center:

  “Dear Diary, another August with Aunt Barb, and I hate it here too. If it wasn’t for Kenny, I’d split. Aunt Barb always reminds me that if it wasn’t for me, her sister would still be here. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to leave. I’m never coming back here—ever!”

  Wow! So that’s why she never calls them or wants to see them! Skye closed the book, laid it on the bed, and looked at the papers still clutched tightly in her hand. The top sheet of notebook paper was blank, so she turned it over. There Skye found a beautiful colored-pencil sketch of a woman who looked like an older Tanya. “That must be her mother,” she concluded. Her glance drifted to the bottom. A colored sketch of Southern Belle graced the page. In the center of the paper Skye read:

  “My precious one,

  How my arms ache

  To touch you—

  To hold you—

  To love you.

  To leave you

  Was not my choosing,

  Nor was it your cause.

  My precious one

  I love you.

  Mom

  Skye’s heart raced as though she had just discovered a bag full of gold. But now her mi
nd filled with confusion and shame—not only for what she had discovered but also for what she had done. Her eyes surveyed the space under Tanya’s bed, debating whether she should crawl into it. For what seemed like forever, Skye sat still, thinking about Tanya and her mother—and the feelings she had about her own mom. Tears flooded her eyes, and her cheeks flushed hot. Tanya really does need love and understanding, more than anyone could ever know, Skye told herself. But I didn’t know!

  Skye stood, confused emotions ripping her insides to shreds. With strong resolve, she worked quickly to clean up the mess, shuffling the papers in her hands into a neat pile. But without giving it a thought, she pulled a second paper from the pile and drew it in front of her face.

  Someone had sketched a colored picture of Tanya on the page. At the bottom, there was a beautiful drawing of Belle’s new foal. In the center, Tanya had written these words:

  “My darling mother,

  How my heart aches

  To see you—

  To touch you—

  To know you.

  My birth caused your death,

  And my life is so empty

  Without you.

  With my whole heart

  I love you,

  The child you never knew.”

  “I can’t believe this!” Skye murmured aloud.

  “You can’t believe what?” Mrs. Chambers said from the doorway.

  Skye’s nerves jumped like she had sat on hot coals.

  “What’s going on in here, Honey?”

  Tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, Skye slowly faced Mrs. Chambers. “Mom, I know I shouldn’t have done it, but her diary was lying wide open—and all these papers—and—and—” Skye’s rambling drifted into loud sniffles.

  Mrs. Chambers walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. “And you couldn’t resist looking?”

  Skye refocused on the papers that her hand still clutched. “I know I deserve to be grounded, but I don’t care about that. She hates herself, Mom. Her aunt and gram blame her for her mother’s death. That’s why she went off the deep end when Belle died. She saw herself in that little foal.”