Jamie was perhaps a year older than Rose. He had curly hair that tumbled over his tanned forehead and intense blue eyes. His cheeks were ruddy. He wore a faded plaid shirt tucked into his jeans. And his jeans were tucked into cowboy boots, not the fancy English-style leather boots. He had a distinctive way of walking—very long rhythmic strides, as if he carried a secret music inside.

“Hi,” he said as he took the reins. “You know how to dismount?”

“I suppose the first step is taking the reins in one hand, then taking one foot out of a stirrup and then swinging that leg over the backside of the horse.”

“You’ve got it. Then just slip on down.”

Rose felt a shadow slide between them.

“She’s fast, Jamie,” Lisa said. Then giggled. “Fast learner.” Rose’s stomach clenched. She felt the blood rising to her face. Her foot seemed to catch in the stirrup and she began to fall.

“Whoops!” Jamie said. “I got you.” She felt his arms grab her around the waist.

“Oh . . . oh . . . I’m sorry. I’m such a klutz.”

“Hey, no. Don’t feel bad. Look, Ivy didn’t even shy.”

She looked at Lisa. A bitter light was pouring from her eyes.

To think that minutes before Rose had felt herself smiling. What a day this had been. Well, she decided, no way was she going to let this idiot girl wreck her riding lessons. She had loved it. Peter was nice. Jamie was cute. And the clothes were so cool. She was coming back, definitely.

Chapter 8

The Diary

Rose smiled again. As soon as she walked in the door, Betty greeted her.

“Look what finally arrived.”

“My boxes!” Three large cartons stood in the hallway.

“I told you they would come. Just took a little side trip to Carmel, Indiana, apparently. The zip code was two digits off.”

Rose dropped to her knees and hugged one of the boxes. It was as if part of her life had come back to her.

“Want me to help you upstairs with these?” Calvin asked.

“Oh sure. Thanks.”

As Rose followed Calvin up the stairs, once again she felt the locket thumping softly against her chest. She liked the sensation. The day had started out so horribly with the Mean Queens’ ambush in the restroom. Then it seemed as if things had only gotten worse and worse. But in fact, the day began to improve in the most unexpected ways. The riding lessons had been fun despite her near fall, and Peter had declared her a natural. You’ve got the genes! But what genes? Her mom had never mentioned riding, and it was hard to think of her grandmother riding. Could it be him? The man in the ruff?