No Justice gone.” Grayson paused, then spoke very quietly. “He’s insured for a lot of money. Don’t make me spell it out.”
“Yessir. Tomorrow.”
“Hear me. Clearly. If you don’t make this happen by tomorrow, I know someone who will.”
The conversation was over. Jerry Johnston scooted away down the aisle and Grayson Gibb strode back the way he’d come. The lights went off.
Evie gasped for air. She collapsed against the wall and stayed where she was, trembling wildly. She tried to think. Kazzam had escaped a beating this time, but what was this insurance her father was talking about?
She made her decision. No Justice would be gone by tomorrow, she vowed. She could not leave him to the whim of her father. She hadn’t planned on having a horse with her when she went to find her mother, but things had radically changed.
Evie got Kazzam’s saddle and bridle out of the tack room, along with her helmet. She quickly slipped the bit into his mouth and the bridle over his ears. The saddle pad was embroidered with “Maple Mills Stables” and their tree logo in blue, so she turned it over for anonymity. She popped the saddle over his back and buckled the girth nice and tight.
She led him out into the growing dimness. It was warm and the air was still, and smelled sweet to her nose. Soon it would be dark, but there was a moon rising, and it would be bright enough to throw some light. And with a sky so clear, she knew it wouldn’t be long before the stars peeked out.
She leaned toward the horse’s warm muzzle and stroked his gleaming neck. “We’re going on an adventure, Kazzam,” she whispered. “I’m not sure exactly where, but you’ll be glad to be away from here, and so will I.”
Kazzam nickered. It was deep and soft, from way back in his throat, and the sound cheered Evie. The horse was communicating with her as best he could. He bumped her gently with his nose.
“You want to get going? Fine with me.”
Evie led him to the mounting block beside the entrance and hopped onto the gelding’s back. Silently, they trotted from the stables across the grass. She looked behind. There were no hoofprints to give them away. The Caledon racetrack had been overly dusty that morning, but now Evie was grateful that the weather had been so dry.
The Maple Mills Stables gates were electronically operated, so they couldn’t get out the front. Farther south along the road was another, much smaller gate. Evie and Kazzam went directly there.
The second they were off the property, she dropped her head in relief. Her heart stopped racing.
“We made it, Kazzam. Prison break!” Parts one and two of her plan were accomplished.
They picked up a trot and went south on the gravel road.
Magpie
Kazzam’s strides were rhythmic and strong as they trotted south for half a concession, then turned east.
Tomorrow, she’d figure out what to do about contacting Aunt Mary, but right now they needed a place for the night. Somewhere with food and water for Kazzam, and a dry spot where she could sleep. Somewhere safe, where Grayson Gibb would never look. There was only one location she could think of — the abandoned Henson property. It was about ten kilometres from Maple Mills with two highways to cross. If she remembered correctly, it had a paddock with grass and a walk-in shelter attached to the old barn.
The Hensons’ children had sold the farm to developers and moved their elderly parents into Golden Years seniors residence. Apparently, the developers had gone bankrupt, and the farm had been vacant for many years. She wondered briefly how the Hensons had adjusted to city life. They’d spent their entire lives farming, and now they were without even a balcony to enjoy the fresh air. But then again, they were known for their miserable temperaments. Maybe their children didn’t care. Certainly, Evie thought, she’d have no trouble putting her father into a home.
Whatever, the old farm was about to serve a new purpose. A halfway house. A refuge for her and Kazzam.
This was not how Evie had imagined part three of her plan. Heading off into the night with a horse and no definite destination was out of her comfort zone. What if Aunt Mary wasn’t home when she called? Or on holiday? Would she and Kazzam have to stay hidden for weeks until she answered? What if her father called the police when he noticed his horse gone, and she was sent to jail? Evie’s head was spinning.
Keep cool. It’ll all work out. One thing for sure was that she could not turn back. Not on her life.
Traffic was light as they hacked along in the dark. Kazzam didn’t seem to mind the occasional cars and trucks that drove by. He stepped out with energy and purpose, ears forward and alert. Evie patted his neck and said, “You seem to know where we’re going, boy!”
They trotted along for twenty minutes, and Evie began to feel good inside. Free. The stars popped out of the dark blanket of sky, one by one, and the fresh night air was exhilarating. Evie thought of herself as brave and adventurous; a woman of the world, a person who would fulfill her destiny, stop at nothing, take matters into her own hands. She sang show tunes aloud. “The hi-ills are ali-ive with the sound of mu-usic.…”
The first of the two highways came into view. The Henson property was right there in front of them, directly ahead. There were four lanes of traffic, and the road was busier than she’d expected on a Saturday night. The bright headlights and the loud engine whines were unfamiliar to Kazzam. He’d never seen this many cars and trucks moving so fast. She felt her first pang of concern and tightened her legs on her horse’s sides.
Kazzam began to hesitate. His head went up. His steps got shorter and his body movement became a bit stilted. Too late, Evie realized that he’d picked up on her anxiety, so she tried to calm herself. She took a deep breath and made an effort to relax her body. She brought Kazzam back to a walk, and cooed, “Good boy, Kazzam. No problem.”
The horse snorted. He shook his head. He pranced on the spot and twisted, trying to turn back. His every instinct was to run away from the scary sights and sounds. Evie stayed very still on his quivering back and tried to get things under control. She patted his neck and kept speaking quietly. “Easy boy. Good boy. Easy there, Kazzam.”
Then he reared up on his hind legs and whinnied.
Evie worried that her plan was about to fail before it had really even started.
No, she thought, I cannot fail. It’s not just about me anymore. If I turn back now, what will happen to Kazzam?
She took her feet out of the stirrups, hopped down to the ground, and stood with the nervous animal. He pulled away and pawed the ground. Thoroughbreds are high-strung, and once excited take a while to calm down. Evie was patient. She didn’t fight him, but didn’t let him race away, either. After five minutes of practising patience, Evie felt Kazzam’s apprehension abate. He lowered his head and snorted.
She said, “Let’s walk for a bit, okay, boy?” She calmly ran up his stirrups so they wouldn’t bump his sides and proceeded to lead him down the side of the road toward the busy highway.
To
