Dark Horse by Dandi Daley Mackall

try to remember the last time Winnie and I e-mailed about anything except my emergency horse questions. Catman and I haven’t stayed in touch either, especially since he took off to film his cat movie. I know there’s never been much money in Winnie’s family. But surely they could find a way if she really wanted to go to OSU.
    “You sure about this?” I ask Dakota.
    “Haven’t you seen it on her face, Hank?”
    Have I? I blew up at her the night they got here. Since then, she’s done everything she could to avoid me. And I haven’t gone out of my way to be around her either. But when I have seen her, she hasn’t looked happy. Dakota’s right about that.
    Man, the last thing I want to do is feel sorry for Winnie. It was easier being angry.
    Dakota picks up a metal bucket and loops the handle over her arm. “I need to go. I told Winnie I’d meet her in the pasture.”
    “Now? You’re leaving now ?” I want to tack up guidelines, but I can’t do it alone.
    “I told Winnie I’d—”
    “Fine. Forget it,” I tell her. “Just go.” I bang the nail deeper into the board and try not to let any other sound or thought into my head.
    For an hour I do what I can by myself. Then Dad and Uncle Bart get back from Nice.
    “Good news, Hank!” Dad says.
    “I could use some,” I admit.
    “The guys at the firehouse got together and volunteered to help us raise the barn on Thanksgiving Day,” Uncle Bart answers. “Your dad has some mighty fine friends, if you ask—”
    “Thanksgiving? You mean Thursday? This Thursday?” I can’t believe Dad thinks we could be ready by then. “That’s too soon! Tell them to give us more time.”
    “No can do,” Dad answers. “It’s the only day we all have off. Les and Rudy will be on call, but nobody has to go into the firehouse. It’s all arranged.” There’s not a bit of worry in his voice. “We’ll be just fine, Son.”
    But we won’t be fine. There’s too much to do. I love my dad. I love my uncle. But sometimes it feels like I’m the only man of the house, the only adult. “Dad, think about it. We have to have the frame completely finished before we can raise the barn. That’s how it works. There’s just not enough time.”
    “Nonsense,” Dad says.
    “Nonsense indeed,” Uncle Bart agrees.
    They work the rest of the afternoon with me. We lay out pieces of the frame. When Mom gets home from the hospital, she trades places with Dad so he can help Aunt Claire get dinner. Uncle Bart lets Mom use his nail gun, and she moves around the frame faster than Uncle Bart and I do.
    “Bart, you should at least loosen your tie,” Mom insists.
    Uncle Bart fingers his Tweety Bird tie like he’s afraid she’ll try to take it from him. “Say, I’m just fine, Annie, thank you very much.”
    The sun has already set when Dad calls us in for supper.
    “I say we call it a night,” Uncle Bart declares. “You know what they say about all work and no play.” He helps Mom up, and they start for the house.
    I ache all over, but I’m not ready to quit. “Let me finish this corner and I’ll be right in.”
    I stay out until it gets so dark I’m having trouble telling if the boards are square or not. When I turn to go, I almost trip over Kat. “How long have you been sitting there, Kat?”
    She shrugs.
    “What are you doing out here?”
    “Reading,” she says. “By moonlight. Are you okay, Hank?”
    “I’m fine. Why?”
    “Maybe because you’re still working. So is Winnie. She’s still trying to help that horse. Everybody else has eaten except you two.” When I don’t comment, Kat adds, “I’ve been worried about you.”
    Kat’s the one we worry about. She’s the one with cancer. I know better than to say that to her though.
    She gets up and points at something behind us. “Don’t you think that maple is the most beautiful tree on earth? Has it ever been this red before or held on to its leaves this long?”
    I squint at the tree, but it’s hard to make