Quietly, she pushed the sheet-rope out the window and fed it down until it was all outside, hanging almost to the veranda roof. She tugged on it hard — the hook was secure. All systems go.
Evie wriggled through the window, feet first. Her legs blindly moved around until her feet found the first knot and held tight. Then the next knot, and her hands grabbed on. This is easy, Evie thought as she climbed down the rope, knot by knot. She felt the shingles with her sneakered feet and relaxed. Taking a deep breath, she let the sheet-rope swing next to the outside wall.
Getting to the ground from the roof was a bit trickier.
Evie crept to the far end of the veranda. When she’d cased it earlier, she’d marked this as the best place to climb down. The veranda roof met the wall here, so the eaves were sturdy and the bushes below were tall enough to hide her. There were no windows here, either, for someone to look out and spot her.
She sat on the roof, turned around, swung her legs over with her belly to the eaves, and inched down, down, down, then a little farther down.
Evie thought her toes should be touching the porch railing by now, but she felt nothing beneath her. Leaning her weight on her chest, she pointed her toes and stretched. Nothing. She let gravity pull her down a little farther. Then she slipped.
She grabbed at the eaves with all her strength and caught herself. Willing her heart to stop thumping, she held tight, but she still couldn’t find the railing with her feet. It was farther than she’d estimated. She should’ve measured.
Soon her arms would give out and she’d have to let go. Could she trust that the porch railing was just below her feet? It might be only an inch away, or she might have seriously miscalculated and would tumble down.
She had two options. Go up or go down. Option one was out. She was hanging so precariously that she couldn’t possibly get back up. She had no choice but option two. She’d have to rethink this part before the real escape. Impulsive again, she thought. Stupid, stupid.
Suddenly the eavestrough pulled away from the wood with a crack. Her feet hit the railing and she tumbled backwards into the bushes. She fell hard, accompanied by the loud crash of broken branches and crumpling metal eavestroughs.
Tick and Tock began yipping and yapping. She counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Nobody came running out to see what had caused the noise. Evie began to breathe again. Luckily for her, Tick and Tock barked so much that they were always ignored.
Evie hoped she hadn’t done any damage to herself.
She wiggled her various body parts. Her fingers and toes moved — that was good — and so did her arms and legs. Her neck turned both ways easily. All good.
When she was sure the coast was clear, she hightailed it to the barn, slinking from tree to tree, crouching all the way.
Once she reached the stable, she exhaled. Home free.
The entire barn was quiet. Not a soul in sight, except the barn cats hunting mice, and the horses, munching and crunching their hay and occasionally slurping water. Evie loved those sounds. And she loved the smell — leather and horse and manure and clover — a poignant medley of smells that always lifted her spirits.
Kazzam raised his head from his hay and softly nickered to her. “Hi there, Mister Racehorse. You were beyond brilliant this morning.”
She took the apple out of her knapsack and offered it to her sleepy black horse. She held it for him as he took half of it in his teeth and chewed it up.
The other horses smelled the apple and began to snort.
“I know you all think it’s not fair, but Kazzam raced his heart out today.” She gave him the other half.
Nine other horses in that aisle refused to accept her logic and stamped their feet and whinnied.
“Okay! I give up!” Evie gathered up carrots in the feed room and fed each horse a delicious crunchy treat, one by one. Now the horses in the other aisles smelled carrots and began to demand their share. Horses deem it rude if you let them sniff something good but don’t let them eat it, so Evie grabbed more carrots and handed them to the impatient animals as quickly as she could.
The setting sun bathed the walls of the barn in a rosy glow as she went back to Kazzam’s stall. She brought some brushes to curry him, and he was very content with her total attention. When she groomed the dip in his back, he reached his neck around and groomed the dip in her back, too, with his front teeth.
She chuckled. “Nice, Kazzam. That feels good.” Out in the field, if a horse is itchy in a place he can’t reach, he scratches another horse in that place with his front teeth to show where to scratch him. “Horse etiquette,” said Evie aloud. She loved watching how horses relate to each other. In that way, she’d learned how to relate to horses herself.
As Evie curried Kazzam she considered the various ways to get back into the house undetected. The original plan was to climb up the way she came. Now she knew that would not be possible. If she was extremely lucky she could get Jordie’s attention and he could let her in the back way. If not, Sella might still be in the kitchen.
All of a sudden the barn lights came on. Evie froze. Footsteps approached. Two men were advancing along the aisle in her direction. Quickly she gathered the brushes. She sat down in the straw under the water bucket with her back to the stall wall next to the aisle. Kazzam stood with his head over her. She dared not peek out.
“We don’t have an offer.” That whispery voice could only belong to one person. Evie’s blood went cold. “And we won’t. But you know that, Jerry. People are laughing.”
“He’s the best we’ve ever had for the Queen’s Plate, Grayson. Faster than Thymetofly by half a second at three-eighths of a mile. He can run.” Jerry Johnston, their racing manager, spoke urgently.
“He can run but nobody can stay on him.” Her father and Jerry stopped at Kazzam’s stall, inches from her. “Put all your attention on Thymetofly. There’s only one option for No Justice. You know what I mean.”
“Try another jockey?”
“You think jockeys don’t talk to each other?” Grayson Gibb snorted meanly. “Do you think at all?”
Evie cringed in sympathy with Jerry.
“Look, I hear you, Grayson, I do. But No Justice is good. We shouldn’t give up on him. I feel it.”
“You feel it?” Her father scoffed again. “Well, I pay for it.” Grayson’s voice was a growl. “I refuse to spend another penny for him to be trained and fed and worked and shipped to the races, just to have him dump another jock. Get rid of him.”
Grayson Gibb’s voice had become louder. He was standing right over her. Evie stayed as still as she possibly could. Was he looking down through the bars at her? Could he see her? She almost peed herself with fear.
“He’s a mean one, too. Look — his ears are flat back.”
Evie knew that Kazzam’s ears were back because he was protecting her from a perceived enemy. Actually, a real enemy. If my father finds me, I’m a goner.
Grayson grunted angrily. “Look at him. He wants to bite me. Ha! Bite the hand that feeds him. I’m going to teach him a lesson.” Evie heard the click of the stall latch.
She stiffened. She knew what came next. Kazzam was about to be beaten within an inch of his life. And she’d be discovered. There was nowhere to hide. Nothing to do but wait for it. Dear Lord of creatures great …
“Stop, Grayson,” said Jerry quickly. “Please. He’s a valuable animal. Give me just a little more time.”
“You’re not listening. Every day he’s here, he costs money.” Grayson took his hand off the stall latch, stepped closer to Jerry, then hissed, “Get rid of him, Jerry. If not one way, then the other.”
“I’ll