Chasing Ghost - Chapter 1 Up

Chapter 1

--

3... 2... 1... Up! As if on cue, the front end of Prince's body began to lift into the air. He carried Brooke effortlessly over the jump and the girl cantered her horse in a large circle before slowing him to a trot and eventually a walk. After a quick pat for a job well done, Brooke had the gelding walking in large, lazy circles around the outside of the arena and dodging a beginner on a chubby brown pony.

"That was beautiful. I'm going to miss having you around," Britt said, her blonde pony tail swinging as she moved to perch atop the mounting block. Brooke made her circles slightly smaller, allowing her to carry on a conversation with her instructor.

She deflated at the mention of her leaving, all pride from the ride long gone from her posture. "I know. It really sucks. I'm especially gonna miss my Prince," Brooke said, patting the gelding a second time. He seemed to not notice it as he stretched his neck out, enjoying the cool down laps.

"Hey, I'm going to miss you, but don't act as if you're the victim here, Brooke. You're a big girl. You knew there were consequences," Britt said, narrowing her blue eyes. Of course, she had to act like a third parent up to the second Brooke left, didn't she? "Have you talked to Elaine about Prince yet?"

The teenager nodded. "She found someone to lease him for the school year. The girl is moving away next summer, so Elaine said I could continue leasing him when I come home," she said.

"See? Look on the bright side. Yes, you'll have to spend the school year with your grandfather, but Prince will be waiting when you come home," Britt said. She stood up and approached the pair, patting Prince's sweaty neck. "Now, why don't you take care of your majestic steed?"

Well, Prince was anything but majestic, Brooke realized, when the gelding lifted his tail to fart. By now, she had him hooked into the cross ties of the bathing stall. Her tack was cleaned and put away. All that was left was to clean the horse. It normally wouldn't take too long, but Brooke made sure to take her time when she got the water to a good temperature. She made sure to take her time when she let the water run over his back and legs. She took her time when she washed him. However, she could only make a bath last so long. Plus, Gilbert would need a bath after his ride. Brooke could see the pony now, standing in one place as his young rider tried to lead him to his stall.

Ah, the lessons taught by school horses were truly unforgettable.

Unlike the young girl, Brooke had no problem getting Prince to follow her from the stall to the aisle and outside to the fresh grass. "I'll miss ya, boy," Brooke said, holding the lead rope loosely as Prince pulled up chunks of grass. With the sun beating down on them, Brooke knew he'd be dry and ready for his stall rather quickly.

She was right. Only minutes later, the bay gelding had looked identical to when she pulled him out of his stall earlier in the day. Only this time he didn't have hay tangled in his name and mud dried into his legs. He sure looked a lot prettier when his dark coat glowed in the sun...

It was only now that Brooke choked back tears. Leaving hadn't felt real until she faced the prospect of losing her best friend. He wasn't hers at all, but belonged to an older woman with no time to ride and two kids that couldn't care less about horses. It seemed to be a miracle when Brooke had found him after searching for the perfect horse to lease. Now she had to leave him.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her arm and slipped the gelding one last mint as they walked into the barn. He crunched, nuzzled her pockets, and Brooke couldn't help but stifle a laugh. She was going to miss him, but he was still the biggest goofball she'd ever met.

After releasing the gelding into his stall, Brooke made her way to her car and paused, her hand on the door. Today was the worst kind of day. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. A light wind blew, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass. Simply put, it was a picture perfect day. How could one enjoy a day like this when the things they loved most were being ripped from their grasp? Shaking her head, Brooke got into the drivers seat and began the short drive home.

She lifted her had to wave at Britt when she drove by the outdoor arena, but her instructor didn't seem to notice as she went to explain something to a rider on a long legged gray horse. Slowly lowering her hand, Brooke turned left on when she exited the parking lot and turned up the volume on the radio when she put more distance between her and the barn.

When Brooke pulled into the driveway, she was surprised to see her grandfather's old red car sitting in the driveway. Wow, they really couldn't wait to get rid of her, could they? It was one simple mistake - it wasn't like she went out and murdered somebody. It had been harmless.

"Brooke!" a voice called from the door. Brooke forced a smile at the speaker until she realized it was her brother.

"What do you want, Chris?" she asked. The younger boy held open the door while Brooke walked in. Well, this was really odd. When did Chris actually do stuff to make her life easier?

"Oh, nothing. I just couldn't wait to welcome home my most wonderful sister," Chris said. He shot Brooke his most charming smile as they walked down the hall together.

"Well, whatever it is, save it. I'm gonna take a shower and then you can ask whatever it is you wanted to ask," Brooke said. She pulled Chris' hat down over his eyes and grabbed a clean outfit from her room before heading into the bathroom. Chris grunted, but he stepped back and allowed Brooke into the bathroom. She closed the door on him and got into the shower.

A few minutes later, the air was thick with steam. Normally Brooke was in and out of the shower within minutes. It was Chris that normally hogged the bathroom and hot water. This time Brooke felt as if she'd earned the right to take a long shower. She let the hot water run over her tense muscles before turning it off and stepping out. Soon she was dried and dressed in the clean clothes she'd grabbed when she went into the bathroom. She pushed open the door, glad to be welcomed by an empty hallway. Chris clearly wanted something from her and she was glad to not have to deal with the boy right away.

After Brooke threw her dirty clothes into the hamper, she turned and walked downstairs, moving slower than usual. For the first time in years, maybe for the first time in her life, she took in the details of those she grew up in. She looked at the pictures lining the walls. They told the story of her and Chris, from the days they were born until today. She looked at the dent in the wall at the bottom of the stairs. That was where Chris had hit after falling down the stairs. He'd been rushed to the emergency room and Brooke remembered being jealous of all the attention her brother had been getting. She was eight. She looked at the claw marks in the floor, just a result of the multiple dogs that had lived out their lives in these very halls.

"Brooke!" her grandfather's voice pulled Brooke out of her reminiscing. He had a bushy gray beard and round cheeks, giving off the image of Santa Clause if he had become a cowboy instead. His large, worn hat covered any last gray hairs on his head. The older man held his arms wide.

"Hi, Grandpa," Brooke said, hugging him. He smelled of pine and soap. It sounded like an odd combination, but it was better than the smell of most older people she'd met. He laughed and released his grip on the young girl.

Brooke turned to face her parents. "I know you didn't expect Grandpa until tomorrow, but we've decided that it'd be better to send you today since traffic will be worse tomorrow," her father said. That was that. After an hour or so spent packing her bags into the back of Grandpa's car and saying good bye to her family, Brooke was seated in the front seat of the car. Country music played softly from the radio and she pulled out her cell phone.

"Now, I'm glad to see you aren't mad at me, but you do need to remember that this isn't a vacation for you," Grandpa said. When he spoke, Brooke lowered her phone.

"Of course I'm not mad at you. You're doing this as a favor for your son and his wife," Brooke said. She saw no reason to resent her grandfather. He hadn't done anything wrong in this situation.

"I'm not even doing this for them. Brooke, you're at a very impressionable age and peer pressure is a big thing. Heck, even I know that from experience. Clearly that Jack, or whatever his name is, was a bad influence on you. We just don't what you to head down the same path he is," Grandpa said, taking his eyes off the road for only a second to look at Brooke. She wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were glued to her feet. She'd made a mistake. Couldn't they just accept that and let her continuing her life with this new knowledge?

"His name is Jake," Brooke corrected. There was silence for a second. "Look, Jake isn't a bad guy. He's just had it a little harder than the rest of us." She had even deleted his number from her phone by choice.

"I'm not saying he's a bad guy. I'm saying he's making bad choices, and I care too much about you to let you do the same. If it makes you feel any better, Milo's living with us as well," Grandpa said. The thought made her smile. Despite not seeing Milo in person for a few years, he was one of Brooke's best friends and her favorite cousin. "See? I knew that'd cheer you up. He's been living with us for about two years now. He wanted a break from the city and just hadn't wanted to go back," Grandpa explained. "Alright, I'll just stop taking and let you pout for the rest of the ride. Just know that you're not gonna waste your time doing that when we get there." With that, Grandpa turned the music up and Brooke slowly fell into a light sleep. Car rides always seemed to do that to her.

What seemed like only moments later, Brooke felt a hand on her shoulder. She groaned, opening her eyes. Disorientated, it took Brooke a couple seconds to remember where she was. Grandpa. The farm. It all came rushing back and she took her time stretching and getting out of the car. She stepped out and blinked her eyes in the bright sun. "Feels good to be back on the farm, huh?" Grandpa asked.

"Well, I guess. It's just not exactly how I planned on spending the year..." she trailed off when she realized he was no longer listening. The older man had gone to grab her bags from the backseat.

A few seconds later, the door to the house slammed open and a skinny boy with a mess of brown curls ran out. "Brookie!" he called out, enveloping his cousin in a tight hug.

"Milo!" Brooke said. She hugged him back, laughing.

"Hey, you're right, Grandpa. She does like me," Milo said with a laugh.

"You're such a dork," Brooke said, punching Milo in the arm. The taller boy grinned and grabbed the rest of her bags. "I see you're still as pale as ever," she commented as the group of three walked towards the house.

"That hurts, Brooke. And all I'm doing is trying to help you carry your bags," Milo said.

Brooke reached the porch first and opened the door. Milo and Grandpa entered and two leaping balls of fur exited. The door shut behind the boys and Brooke crouched down, scratching one dog's neck and the other one's back. A German shepherd and a border collie. "Hey, boys," Brooke said. A shrill whistle came from the house and Brooke opened the door for the dogs to go back inside.

"You're reunited with Milo, Remi, and Archie? Ready to see your grandparents?" Grandma asked, wiping her hands on a towel as she approached the teenage girl.

"Hi, Grandma," Brooke said. She slipped off her shoes and walked over to hug her grandmother. The dogs jumped up at them until Grandpa called for them. They ran off.

"You have no idea how happy I am to have you back here. Maybe next year we can invite Christopher over," she said. Grandma was the only one that referred to Chris by his full name. "Now, why don't you get cleaned up before dinner? I'm making chicken," Grandma said. Brooke nodded and made her way back towards the bathroom.

By the time Grandma called for dinner, Brooke had cleaned up. She walked out into the dining room to see four places set. Milo was in the kitchen with Grandma, so Brooke joined Grandpa out on the porch. She sat in the rocking chair next to him and the two rocked silently in synch

As Brooke opened her mouth to say something, she spotted a shape making its way down the driveway. As the shape approached, Brooke was able to recognize it as a teenage boy. Grandpa had noticed the boy and smiled.

"Hello, Mr. Sullivan," the boy said, taking the steps up the porch. "I just figured you'd like to know that River is doing well. Thank you for your help, sir," the boy said. He seemed to not have noticed Brooke, so she kept her mouth shut.

"Glad to hear that. You got a nice mare, Wyatt. I'd love to help out with anything you need," Grandpa said with a few laugh. He then turned his shining blue eyes on Brooke. "Wyatt, this is my granddaughter, Brooke. She'll be spending the year here and attending Prescott High with you this fall," he said.

Wyatt turned to Brooke, running his hand through his short black hair. "Well, hello, Brooke. I'm Wyatt. I live next door," he said, giving her a lop sided smile.

"Nice to meet you," Brooke said.

"Wyatt, would you like to join us for dinner? I set up another plate at the table," Grandpa offered. He stood up, the rocking chair creaking as his weight left it.

"That'd be great. Thank you, sir," Wyatt said. With that, Grandpa turned and opened the door, holding it for Wyatt and Brooke. She couldn't help but wonder if it was normal to invite the neighbor to dinner so abruptly. Back home, Brooke had barely said a word to any of her neighbors and she'd lived by them for seventeen years.

"Wyatt! Dinner's ready, but I'll get you a place set up," Grandma said when she saw the young man. As if reading her mind, Milo disappeared and came back a few minutes later with a fifth chair. He then grabbed an extra plate. An extra fork. An extra knife. An extra glass of milk. Soon there was a place set up for Wyatt between Brooke and Milo.

Dinner was served and Brooke took a deep long breath, inhaling the aroma of the freshly cooked and seasoned chicken. Along with the chicken there were steamed vegetables and some kind of rice. It looked to be a meal fit for a king, though nobody around the table was anywhere near royalty.

They chewed in silence for a moment, before Wyatt spoke up. "Did you hear that Hunter Henderson spotted the ghost horse last night?" he asked.

Brooke set down her fork, leaning closer at his words. "Did you say 'ghost horse'?" she asked. Maybe this place would be a little more exciting than she had expected.

"Yeah, haven't you heard the stories?" Wyatt asked. He set down his own fork and turned to face her. "So, one night, Mr. Jenkins was out doing something in his yard. He looked up and-" Wyatt's story was cut off by Grandpa.

"That's enough. I've told you a thousand times, Wyatt, that the ghost isn't real," he said. He turned to Brooke. "And I'm supposed to keep you out of trouble, so don't get any ideas in your head. Am I clear?" he asked.

Brooke nodded. "Yep. Sorry," she said. Her eyes were locked on her food, but she didn't do much more than swirl her fork around in her rice.

"Good. Now, Milo, would you go grab that beautiful dessert you whipped up earlier today?" he asked. The majority of the people around the table had finished eating, and Brooke pushed her plate forward. She'd eaten the majority of the food. It was good, but she was far too interested in this ghost horse to think about eating.

Milo returned, precariously balancing an apple pie and five small plates. As soon as he entered, Grandma was on her feet and grabbing the plates from him. The two worked as a team to cut the pie and hand a piece on a plate to each person at the table.

"Mmmm... That was delicious, Milo, but I'd better get heading home. Mom's probably wondering where I am. See you tomorrow?" he asked. When Milo nodded, Wyatt turned to Brooke. "And, of course, the only new student the school's had since Milo." He lifted a hand to wave at the family before making his way out the front door. Brooke watched until he faded into the dim shape she'd seen approaching.

The pie was good. "Who knew you were such a good cook?" Brooke asked. She leaned forward, watching her cousin. Milo had finished his piece off quickly, and was now collecting dirty plates from the table.

"Well, I learn from the best," Milo said, tapping Grandma's shoulder as he walked by.

"You are so sweet," Grandma said. As she complimented Milo, Brooke took the opposite to escape to her room. It was one she'd slept in many times with various cousins or Chris when she spent the week or weekend at her grandparents' house, but now it was hers. She wasn't sharing it for a short time. It was hers. The idea felt foreign to Brooke, that this strange room was here, but she took no time to flop into the bed. Wyatt's words haunted her. What exactly was this ghost horse?

A knock on the door pulled Brooke from her thought. "Yes?" she asked, sitting up on the bed.

"Hey, Brooke, can I come in? We can catch up," Milo's voice came from the other side of the thin wood. Brooke sighed and made her way across the room. She pulled open the door to reveal Milo's dimpled smile. "Great. It's good to have you around, kiddo," he said, pulling her into a hug. Once Milo released his grip on Brooke, they sat down on the bed together.

"Don't call me kiddo. I'm only, like, two months younger than you," Brooke pointed out.

"Two months and four days," Milo corrected her. This is how he had earned the role of family nerd. As much as she hated to admit it, Brooke was right behind him when it came to that. "Anyway, how are you feeling about tomorrow? I promise the school isn't that bad. Plus, you'll have me and Wyatt. I usually drive Wyatt to school," he said. Milo grabbed some little trinket Brooke had set up on the night stand next to her bed.

"I'm fine. C'mon, Milo, you know me. When do I get nervous?" Brooke asked, forcing a smile.

"Well, you're always nervous before a show," Milo pointed out. "Speaking of horses, I'm surpised you haven't made your way down to the barn yet." He nodded towards the window, where Brooke was able to see the faint outline of the barn through her thin curtains.

"That's different. I practically owned the social scene back home," Brooke lied. She had gotten in with the popopular crowd, which had resulted in her being here with Milo. "Ah, today's been busy. I'll check it out tomorrow after school. Grandpa said he had a horse I may be interested in riding for the year," she said. "Speaking of which, do you ride now?"

"A bit. Nothing like you do, but I do trail rides with Wyatt and his sister at times. Basically, Grandpa taught me as much as I need to know and that's it. I don't have a desire to learn more," he shrugged. "Well, whatever. Just wanted to check on you. See you tomorrow," he said, shutting the door on his way out.

When Milo left, Brooke had finally come up with a plan. At school, where Grandpa wouldn't be in the way, she'd ask Wyatt about the ghost horse.