Seventeen-year-old Jackie Gates is more accustomed to wearing designer clothing and possessing expensive gadgets and electronics than wondering how she'll eat and pay next month's rent. But she knows that running away and leaving Fort Worth, Texas-and her former life behind-is what she needs to do. Life in Castlewood, Ontario, is tough, but her goal of earning the local scholarship to veterinary school is in her sights. Her passion for horses and her need to make money lead her to a much-needed job as a farmhand at Starcross Farms. It's here she befriends Dusty Houghton, a local boy struggling with school and his parents' recent divorce. She also finds herself face-to-face with the very reason she ran away-her horse, Texas. After one year of being mistreated and abused, Texas is far from being the horse she used to know. Certain she can mend the damage of his former abuse, she struggles to keep the balance of her new life from tipping into the old one. Just when she's close to finding a solution to keeping the job she needs, the horse she loves, and the boy she has grown too close to, a tragic accident threatens it all. The accident jeopardizes not only her life but adds to the risk of uncovering secrets-and the unasked questions from her past.
Finding the Good
By Tanya PattersoniUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 Tanya Patterson
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4620-6657-5Chapter One
Sitting in the corner of a local coffee shop, seventeen-year-old Jackie Gates searched the classifieds. She held a lukewarm coffee in one hand and propped her head up with the other. Her stomach growled in complaint at the plain bagel she had eaten for supper, but she ignored it. Her eyes kept moving back to one ad in the newspaper that was spread out on the table before her.
Starcross Farms — Position Available Wanted male or female available mornings and weekends. Light farmwork. Horse knowledge a must. Accommodations available. Please apply in person.
Jackie had read it over so many times she had it memorized.
"I never had much luck with that paper either," the waitress commented as she wiped off the table beside Jackie.
Jackie lifted her head and smiled. The waitress looked a couple years older than Jackie. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head, and she had a pencil tucked behind her ear. "I think I'm looking for a job that doesn't exist."
"The perfect job never does." The waitress laughed and moved on to the next table, which was occupied by an older couple.
Jackie folded the paper and tucked it into her knapsack. She pulled out a textbook and a binder and placed them on the table. A group of kids entered the coffee shop, and she recognized them from school. A few of them were in some of her classes. They laughed and talked as they made their way across the room to choose a table. If they had recognized Jackie sitting there, they didn't let on.
Jackie had attended Castlewood High since the start of school in September, and she still hadn't made any friends. The town was small, and everyone seemed to have their own established groups. She didn't exactly look like the rest of the girls; she was tall with a slim, muscular build and dark brown hair that fell in curls halfway to her waist. She had been meaning to get it cut, but for now, she just wore it in a braid or tucked in a ball cap. She had a round, thin face with the hint of one dimple on her left cheek. Her eyelashes were long, but her most intriguing feature was the pair of deep emerald-green eyes she had inherited from her grandmother. She wore dark-rimmed glasses, and her blue jeans and buttoned shirts or baggy sweatshirts didn't quite match what the other girls were wearing—short skirts, low-cut shirts, and skinny jeans with boots. Not that she cared, but there was a time when she had fit in. Not so long ago, she used to do her hair and makeup and dress like them; there was a time when she was like one of those girls, laughing and hanging out with her friends. There was a time she used to laugh a lot.
"We're discussing our English assignments. You could join us." A pretty brunette stood at her table and smiled.
Jackie jumped, suddenly realizing she had been staring. She recognized the girl as Dawn. They shared a few classes, and Dawn was the student council secretary.
"We were just complaining about Mr. Neil and trying to come up with subjects for our independent study."
Jackie met the other girl's eyes and smiled nervously, shaking her head. "There's somewhere I need to be." She started stacking her books and papers.
"We meet here every Monday at this time," the girl continued. "You're welcome to join us."
"That's nice of you," Jackie said, realizing that aside from her teachers at school and the waitress that poured her coffee, Dawn was the only other person she had actually spoken a full sentence to in a long time. She stuck her arms in her navy down jacket and stood, gathering her things. "I need to get going."
"Every Monday," Dawn repeated and then left to join the other girls at their table.
Jackie slung her knapsack over her shoulder, tossed some change on the table, and then rushed to the door. No wonder I don't know anybody. Every time someone comes around, I run. She paused at the door to take one last breath of warm air before merging into the cold March air. The snow crunched under her boots as she crossed the parking lot toward the apartment building on the other side of the street. Trying to hide her face under her collar, she hurried around back to number seven, where she put her key in the lock and threw the door back. She tossed her knapsack onto the floor and didn't bother taking off her coat or boots because the apartment was cold.
The old lady who owned the building didn't know enough to turn the heat up at night. Jackie had asked several times, but the woman was getting old and her memory and eyesight were going. Jackie didn't blame her for the lack of heat; she knew the lady's son had a lot to do with the distribution of heat to her apartment and the others. He lived somewhere on the other side of town and visited daily to hassle the tenants and argue with his mother about selling the dump. There were cracks in the walls and holes in the carpets. The sink had a permanent water stain around it, and it creaked and groaned when Jackie turned it on. She was just grateful to have a furnished place to stay for so little rent. Even now, she was starting to struggle with the monthly payments. She had to find a job. The waitress was wrong; the perfect job did exist.
Jackie collapsed on the bed after retrieving the newspaper from her discarded knapsack. She scanned the want ads again, stopping at the one circled. She had circled the ad three days ago, and for three days she had a battle in her mind about whether to walk to the farm or not. She had already calculated it would be about one and a half miles, which should only take her a half hour if she walked fast. Each night she would come up with some excuse for why she should wait. Tonight it was definitely too cold. But on the flipside, it was too cold to just sit there. The ad had mentioned accommodations, and even the barn was bound to be warmer than the apartment. She sat up and checked her watch. Five o'clock. If she left right then, she might be there before dark. She wanted more than anything to work with horses, but there was something holding her back.
She left the paper on the bed and headed back out into the cold. She didn't glance in as she passed the coffee shop, not wanting to see if the girls were still there. She headed toward the road that lead out of town, the same road she came in on six months earlier.
Jackie pulled her hood up, buttoned the top button of her coat, and pulled her hands into a pair of mittens she had picked up at the secondhand store in town. She walked quickly to stay warm, following along the winding turns of the road before she came to a bridge crossing over a small stream. Once the road straightened, the white fencing started. Jackie followed it for the next quarter mile until she came to a long driveway where the fence continued alongside it.
Jackie continued up the driveway, following the white fence past a beautiful, modern stone house. She headed past it toward the barn. There were a few vehicles parked at the entrance to the barn, and Jackie guessed that they belonged to the people who trained with the Birtwicks or boarded their horses at Starcross.
Jackie had looked up the farm on the school library computer. Starcross Quarter Horses was a well-established riding stable and training facility. It consisted of four barns, including an Olympic-sized indoor...
