Jasmine Helps a Foal
Pony Tails, Book Ten
Bonnie Bryant
I would like to give my special thanks
to Helen Geraghty for her help
in the writing of this book.
1 A Growing Family
“Will you slow down, May?” said Corey.
“I think I’ll go faster,” May said. She urged her pony into a flat-out gallop.
“Stop!” Jasmine said.
“Watch this!” May said. Her pony jumped the ruler, and then the eraser, and then Jasmine’s diary.
Corey and Jasmine looked at each other and rolled their eyes. These model ponies were turning May into a maniac.
“It’s good to ride safely at all times,” Corey said, but then she giggled. “Even if your pony is only six inches tall.”
Corey jumped her model pony over a fuzzy bedroom slipper and up onto the window seat.
“Your turn,” Corey said to Jasmine.
But Jasmine was looking at the door. “I hear something,” she said. Two days earlier the doctor had said that Jasmine’s mother was about to give birth. Now whenever Jasmine heard a noise, she was sure the baby was coming.
From downstairs came the sound of a door slamming.
“The baby’s coming. I’ve got to boil water,” Jasmine said. She jumped up.
“Wait a second,” said May. “Could that be the slamming of an oven door?”
From downstairs came a sweet, buttery smell.
“Could we be smelling fresh-baked cookies?” asked Corey.
Jasmine sat back down. “It is cookies,” she said. “Rats.”
“It could be worse,” May said with a grin. “After all, your mother’s cookies are—”
“—the greatest,” Corey said.
They went back to playing with their model ponies. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door of Jasmine’s room. The door was open, but one of the nice things about Mrs. James was that she never came into Jasmine’s room without knocking.
“Hi, Mom,” Jasmine said.
“Hi, Mrs. J.,” May said. May had known Mrs. James forever. Actually, she had known Mrs. James before forever because Mrs. James and her mom had been friends when they were pregnant with Jasmine and May.
“Hi, Mrs. J.,” Corey said.
Mrs. James walked awkwardly into the room. Normally she was thin and delicate, just like Jasmine. Now that she was pregnant, her stomach was enormous.
Mrs. James put one hand in the small of her back. Her other hand held a tray.
“Are you okay, Mrs. J.?” May asked.
“I’m fine,” Mrs. James said. “Except sometimes I have the feeling I’m going to tip over.”
She walked to the rug where the girls were sitting and looked down at them with a worried expression.
May knew right away why Mrs. James looked worried. She was trying to figure out how to put the tray down without tipping over.
May hopped up. “If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s holding trays,” she said. “Besides, I’m starving.”
With a grateful smile, Mrs. James handed the tray to her. “Thanks, May,” she said. “There’s oatmeal cookies and apple juice.”
May found that holding the tray was not easy. It took both hands to keep it steady, and even then the glasses wobbled. Being very careful, she lowered the tray to the rug.
“Just the thing for ponies,” Corey said. “Oats and apples.”
“My mom knows,” said Jasmine proudly.
They picked up their model ponies and pretended to let them take a drink of the apple juice. The girls made the ponies sip and snort with pleasure.
“Do you think they’d like cookies?” Jasmine said.
“Anyone would like your mother’s cookies,” said May.
They let the ponies nibble the cookies.
May couldn’t help thinking that it was a good thing model ponies didn’t actually eat or drink. She was hungry and thirsty and needed all the cookies and juice she could get.
The three girls leaned against the foot of Jasmine’s bed.
“Yummm,” they all said at the same time.
They turned to each other, ready to say “Jake” and give high fives, which was what the Pony Tails always did when they said the same thing at the same time. Then they saw that each of them had a cookie in one hand and a glass in the other, so slapping high fives wasn’t a great idea. Instead, they grinned and just said, “Jake.”
The Pony Tails weren’t a club, just best friends. Jasmine James, Corey Takamura, and May Grover rode their ponies together, took classes at Pine Hollow Stables together, and belonged to the same Pony Club. They were even next-door neighbors.
“You don’t know how lucky you are,” said May.
“Urmf,” said Jasmine, her mouth full of cookie.
“You’re getting a younger sister—or brother.” May took a sip of her apple juice. “Older is very bad. I can’t tell you how totally bad it is.”
“I wonder if I’ll be like Dottie and Ellie,” Jasmine said. Dottie and Ellie were May’s older sisters.
“You’ll never be like them,” May said. “They’re so dumb they don’t even like horses.”
The three of them shook their heads. May’s father was a horse trainer, and the Grovers always had a stableful of horses, so Dottie and Ellie could have ridden as much as they wanted. But did they want to? No way. Instead, they sat around and talked about boys and soccer. It didn’t make sense to May and her friends.
“You’re lucky your family is growing,” Corey said.
Corey’s parents were divorced. Sometimes the new house where Corey and her mom lived felt empty without her father. It helped that Corey got to see her father a lot. It also helped to have the world’s nuttiest pets, like Bluebeard the parrot and Dracula the dog. Still, she wished she had a baby brother or sister.
“I’ve got this baby thing all planned,” Jasmine said. “First I’m going to put pictures of ponies around the baby’s crib.”
“Good thinking,” May said.
“And then I’ll tell pony stories,” said Jasmine.
“The best kind of stories,” said Corey.
“And then I’ll give the baby a few all-important riding tips. Like to keep her heels down.”
“You can’t start keeping your heels down too soon,” May agreed.
The three of them enjoyed the crunchy cookies in silence for a moment.
“I heard there’s a new foal at Pine Hollow,” May said then.
“A new foal!” said Jasmine. She loved foals. “Tell me about it.”
“That’s all I know,” May said. “Maybe Corey knows more.”
Corey’s mother was a veterinarian. Everybody called her Doc Tock. She didn’t work with horses, but she knew everything there was to know about the animals of Willow Creek.
“What’s the foal like?” Jasmine asked.
“He’s average,” said Corey with a shrug. “Nothing special.”
An average foal! There was no such thing. Jasmine and May looked at each other in amazement.
“Since when did you think a foal was average?” Jasmine asked.
“This one is,” Corey said casually. “Now if you want to see something truly amazing, come to my house and see the baby dachshunds.”
But Jasmine wasn’t about to be distracted. “What does the colt look like?” she asked. “What are his markings?”
“Average markings,” said Corey. “Now about those dachshunds.”
“Is he frisky?” May asked. “Does he like to kick up his heels?”
“Will somebody let me tell about the dachshunds?” Corey asked.
May an
d Jasmine looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Why was Corey acting so strange?
“Okay, tell us about those whatchamacallits,” May said grumpily.
“What is a dachshund, anyway?” asked Jasmine.
Corey looked relieved to have their attention at last. “You know those dogs that look like long, furry hot dogs?”
“The ones that are two inches off the ground?” asked Jasmine.
“That’s it,” Corey said. “Well, the mother hot dog has six little hot dogs.”
“Cocktail franks!” said May. When her mother had a party she often served tiny hot dogs.
“They’ll be staying at my place for the next couple of weeks,” Corey said. “You have got to see them.”
There was a knock on the door. Mr. James poked his head into the room. His blue eyes were twice as big as usual, and his curly hair was a mess. He looked happy and scared at the same time.
“It’s …,” he said. “I mean … now. It’s coming.”
The Pony Tails looked at each other.
“Mom’s in labor,” Jasmine gasped. “She’s going to have the baby.”
The three Pony Tails jumped to their feet.
“Zowie!” May said.
2 Keeping Busy
May and Corey stood at the sink rinsing the glasses and the cookie plate from their snack. They put them in the dishwasher and wiped off the tray. Jasmine was at the stove boiling water for the nurse-midwife, who had gotten to the house a few minutes earlier to help her mother.
May didn’t want to leave. “We could help you boil water,” she said to Jasmine. “What I don’t know about boiling water isn’t worth knowing.”
“That’s okay,” Jasmine said. “My father and I practiced. I know what to do.”
“But we could help you do it even better,” May said as she dried her hands and hung up the dishtowel.
“Ahem,” Corey said.
May turned to look. Corey was pointing at the back door.
“I could write an article for the school paper,” May said. “It would make a great story. ‘Mrs. James Gives Birth. Jasmine Gets New Sister.’”
Gently Corey took May’s arm and pulled her toward the door.
“It would be on the front page,” May said.
Corey pulled May into the mudroom, which was behind the kitchen.
“Gee,” said May, “why do I get the feeling that you think it’s time to go?”
“Because it is time to go,” said Corey. “Bye, Jasmine,” she called through the doorway.
“See you,” said Jasmine.
As May and Corey put on their riding boots, May said, “I still think the Jameses could use our help.”
“It’s just a wild guess—but I think the nurse-midwife can handle it,” Corey said.
Corey opened the back door. A sweet smell hit them. It was a combination of flowers, warm earth, and grass.
“Spring!” May said. “An outstanding time of year. An ideal time to be born.”
“Just like you were,” Corey said with a smile. May was called May because she had been born in May.
They headed to the back of Jasmine’s yard and onto the Pony Trail. This was a trail that led between the three houses of the Pony Tails.
“Wait until you see the baby dachshunds,” Corey said.
They ambled into the Takamuras’ barn. In the tack room was a box with very low sides so that the mother dachshund could get in and out. She was lying in the center with a happy look on her face. Around her were six tiny brown babies with their eyes closed. They were making tiny birdlike peeps as they wriggled toward their mother.
“Oh,” May said. “I thought dachshunds sounded boring. But these are cute.” She leaned over and touched one of the babies’ backs. It was silky and warm. “I can’t believe they’ll ever be big enough to run around the barn.”
“Just wait,” Corey said. “Babies grow really fast.”
May remembered the foal at Pine Hollow. “I can’t wait to see that foal,” she said.
Corey looked sad. “His mother died.”
May sat back on her heels. Suddenly she didn’t feel very cheerful. “I heard she was sick, but I thought she’d get well.”
“Everyone did their best,” Corey said. “Max was there.” Max Regnery was the owner of Pine Hollow Stables. “Judy was there.” Judy Barker was the veterinarian who took care of the horses of Willow Creek. “But when the mare was giving birth things went wrong, and there was nothing they could do.”
Corey looked so miserable that May put her arms around her. “I guess that’s why you didn’t want to talk about the foal in front of Jasmine,” May said. “You didn’t want her to know that sometimes mothers die.”
Corey nodded.
“Me and my big mouth,” May said. “Sometimes I think I should have an On-Off switch so people can stop me.”
“You didn’t know,” Corey said. “How could you?”
“I bet her owners miss her,” May said.
“They were building a special new stable for her and the colt,” Corey said. “That’s why she was staying at Pine Hollow when she had her baby.”
“She’ll never see the stable,” May said sadly. She thought of the empty stall waiting for a horse that would never come.
“The owners can’t take care of the colt, so he’s going to stay at Pine Hollow,” Corey said. “Another mare just foaled, and she has milk enough for two. But she won’t let the colt near her. So Max says we’ll have to milk the mare and then put the milk in bottles for the colt.”
“Hey, I could help,” May said, feeling better. At least there was something she could do.
“We all will,” Corey said. “Max says the foal is going to need all the help he can get.”
A wind blew through the magnolia tree next to the barn, scattering petals toward the ground. The petals had a soft, sweet smell.
From inside the Grovers’ barn in the yard next door came a whinny.
“That’s Mac,” May said, recognizing her own pony’s voice. She cocked her head. The whinny came again. “I get the feeling that Macaroni is dying for a ride.”
Corey’s pony was in the paddock behind the Takamuras’ barn. He answered Macaroni’s whinny with one of his own.
“I have the feeling Samurai feels the same,” Corey said.
“Coming,” said May and Corey at the same time. They would have given each other high fives and said “Jake” because they had said the same thing at the same time. But Jasmine wasn’t there. So instead Corey and May grinned.
Ten minutes later they met on ponyback at the gate behind Corey’s barn. Macaroni, May’s pony, was as yellow as macaroni and cheese. Usually Macaroni was easygoing and slow, which was how he got his nickname, Mellow Yellow. But today he looked positively frisky. Samurai, Corey’s pony, had a blaze on his face like a samurai sword. Sam danced from one foot to the other.
May opened the gate that led to the field behind the barns. After Sam and Corey had ridden through, May closed the gate. The people who owned the field didn’t mind if the Pony Tails rode there as long as they closed the gates.
Samurai snorted and shook his head, ready to take off.
“Walk!” Corey said. She knew the ponies had to warm up first. Otherwise they might pull a muscle.
Even Macaroni wanted to run.
“I know it’s spring,” May said. “But we’re walking.”
First the ponies walked. Then Corey and May let them trot. When Mac and Sam had worked up a light sweat, May and Corey looked at each other and grinned. “I think,” Corey said.
“Totally,” May said.
Corey tightened her reins.
May leaned slightly forward.
All of a sudden the ponies were cantering alongside each other in a wonderful rocking motion. They cantered along the edge of the field, under a big oak tree, and to the bottom of a hill. Then the girls pulled the ponies into a walk and rode slowly up the hill.
At the top, they stopped their ponies and took
in the view. Looking as tiny as a picture in a book were the barns of Pine Hollow Stables. May and Corey could see Red O’Malley, the stable hand, forking hay into a wheelbarrow. They could see Max Regnery riding a horse in the paddock.
Corey and May turned the ponies around to look back at their own houses. On the left was Jasmine’s house, looking as small as a doll’s house. Pink tulips bloomed next to the steps. A wreath of forsythia hung on the door. Everything looked pretty and peaceful.
But something mysterious was happening inside.
3 A Long, Lonely Wait
“Don’t cry,” Jasmine said. “I’ll take care of you.”
The doll’s expression didn’t change. She stared at Jasmine with blank blue eyes.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Jasmine said.
The doll didn’t look upset. In fact, the doll didn’t look very much of anything. Jasmine was practicing. Her parents had given her the doll a couple of weeks earlier. They said she could hold it and pretend to feed it.
The doll wasn’t very good company. It didn’t talk. It didn’t know anything about ponies. It just lay there and stared.
Down the hall, Jasmine could hear her parents talking.
Her father was saying, “Breathe, breathe.”
Her mother was making puffing sounds. It reminded Jasmine of a book she used to love called The Little Engine that Could. She remembered that in the book the engine had to puff its way up an enormous hill. Jasmine thought it sounded as if her mother was doing the same thing.
Jasmine had gone into her parents’ bedroom a couple of times. Her mother looked fine. She was a little sweaty, and her father kept wiping her forehead with a damp washcloth. Her long, curly hair was tangled on the pillow, but she didn’t seem to care about her hairdo right then.
The nurse-midwife looked confident and smart, so Jasmine was sure she was doing a good job. Down the hall Jasmine could hear the midwife’s low, friendly voice. Then she heard her mother saying something Jasmine couldn’t understand.
Jasmine noticed that the doll was staring at her.
“I didn’t forget about you,” she said to the doll. “I was just listening. You know how it is when something really exciting happens. You can’t help listening.” She picked the doll up and held it to her chest. “You’re number one with me.”
Jasmine Helps a Foal (Pony Tails Book 10) Page 1