Corey and Jasmine exchanged looks.
“May is going to owe us big-time,” muttered Corey.
A minute later Mrs. Neill came back with a boy who had long brown hair and a high forehead. He had solemn brown eyes and a serious mouth. He was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt, but Corey figured that he was probably trying to go native, wearing what dumb Americans wore.
“I live next door,” Corey said. “I’m Corey.”
“She has a totally insane dog,” Jasmine said. “Maybe you heard him howling. If you think he’s bad, you should meet her parrot. He’s even worse. And then there’s her goat, Alexander, otherwise known as Alexander the Goat.” The girls giggled.
“Rather,” Wilfred said without smiling.
Corey and Jasmine exchanged looks. Wilfred was not going to be a barrel of laughs. But a promise was a promise.
“Do you want to come with us to visit Macaroni?” Corey asked.
“The little yellow pony?” Wilfred said. “Indeed, I’ve been riding him.”
Corey was steamed. Macaroni was not a little yellow pony. He was the greatest, the gentlest, the smartest, the funniest. He was not some ordinary little yellow pony.
“I guess you could say that,” Corey said crossly.
The three of them walked out to the barn in silence.
“I suppose you have a zillion ponies at home,” Jasmine said. “Living on the edge of the moor the way you do.”
“Not a zillion,” Wilfred said. “That would be rather much.”
Behind his back, Corey and Jasmine exchanged looks.
They took Wilfred into Macaroni’s stall. Macaroni nuzzled them and looked at them with worried brown eyes, wondering where May was.
“Hi, Macaroni,” Corey said. “I know you miss May, but I’m sure you’re enjoying taking Wilfred for rides.” But then Corey wondered if she was lying to the pony.
“Actually, we have been enjoying one another,” Wilfred said. He tickled Macaroni on his forehead, under his forelock.
“Mac could probably use a ride right now,” Corey said.
“So we’ll saddle up then, shall we?” Wilfred said.
The girls raced off to get their own ponies, and fifteen minutes later they were all riding around the ring. It was obvious that Wilfred knew a lot about riding. His seat was firm. His heels were down. He held the reins with a light but firm touch. Macaroni looked content.
Corey realized that she and Jasmine could learn a few things from Wilfred, but on the other hand, who wanted to? She had the distinct feeling that Wilfred was showing off.
“Would you care to trot?” Corey said.
“Rather,” Wilfred said.
As they trotted, Wilfred posted easily. And when they cantered, Corey thought Wilfred looked positively bored. This wasn’t like riding with May. There was no friendship, no fun, no jokes.
After a while Corey said to Wilfred, “Well, I guess we’ll take off. We’ve got lots to do.” She looked at Jasmine.
“Actually,” Jasmine said with a grin, “what we have to do is go to my house and have homemade cookies and apple juice. Want to come along?”
Corey made a face. She’d had enough of Wilfred for one day.
“Rather,” Wilfred said.
As Corey and Jasmine rode off, Corey said, “Why did you have to do that?”
“He’s a guest,” Jasmine said. “He’s a stranger here.”
“Strange is right,” Corey grumbled.
Half an hour later Corey and Jasmine were sitting at the round table in the Jameses’ kitchen. Jasmine had set out three glasses of apple juice and a plate of her mother’s homemade peanut butter cookies.
“This is going to be a laugh and a half,” Corey said.
“Will you lighten up?” Jasmine said.
There was a knock at the door. Jasmine went to open it. Wilfred was standing there, holding a baking pan filled with custard, cake, and fruit.
“Come in,” Jasmine said. She led Wilfred through the mudroom into the kitchen.
“This is for you,” he said shyly, holding out the baking pan. “My mother made it. It’s a trifle.”
“It’s not a trifle at all,” Jasmine said, gazing down at the yellow, delicious-looking concoction. “It looks like a big deal to me.”
“Er,” Wilfred said, “trifle is a name for an English treat.”
Jasmine put the pan on the table. She got three plates and three spoons. She passed them out, and then the three of them sat there looking at the trifle. “You first,” she said to Wilfred.
“No, you,” he said.
We could spend the rest of our lives waiting for someone to go first, Corey thought.
With a grin Jasmine pulled the trifle pan closer and gave herself a large serving. “Somehow I think I’m going to enjoy this,” she said. She looked at Wilfred and Corey, and since the two of them were just sitting there staring, she took a bite.
Jasmine’s eyes opened wide. “This is good.” She took another bite. “It’s not good, it’s outstanding.” Jasmine looked at the pan of trifle as if she was figuring out how large a second helping she could take.
Corey’s stomach growled. She was always hungry after riding. And now she was truly hungry. She had been planning to ignore the trifle, but now she realized that if she waited too long, it would be gone. She pulled the pan toward her and scooped out a small helping. She took a bite. It was creamy with chunks of fruit. It was so-so, she thought. But maybe she should give it another chance. She took another bite. It was not half bad.
Next thing Corey knew, she had emptied her bowl. She looked up and saw that Wilfred had served himself and that Jasmine had taken a second helping, but there was still plenty left for her. She gave herself a large serving because, after all, her last serving had been pretty small. She started eating quickly, but then she slowed down because she wanted to make this trifle last.
“I really like it,” Corey said. And then she couldn’t help herself and she said, “Rather!”
Wilfred burst out laughing.
Corey took a second look. Perhaps Wilfred was human after all.
“You know what?” she said. “I think Mac likes you.”
“Mac is great,” Wilfred said.
Corey realized that maybe she’d been mean to Wilfred. She remembered when she had been new in Willow Creek. She remembered how shy she’d felt. She remembered how worried she’d been that Jasmine and May wouldn’t like her.
She ran her spoon around the bowl, hunting for a last crumb of trifle. She found one and licked her spoon. “Can I ask you something?”
“Ask away,” Wilfred said.
“Where’d you get your name?” Corey asked.
“Corey!” Jasmine said.
“I don’t mind,” Wilfred said. “Wilfred is kind of wet.”
“Wet?” Corey said.
“Er … dorky,” Wilfred said. “Isn’t that what you Americans say?”
Corey and Jasmine burst out laughing. “Sometimes,” Jasmine said.
“But what I can do? I’m a Wilfred,” he said.
Corey was struck with a sudden burst of inspiration. “When you’re in America you’re not a Wilfred, you’re a Will.”
“I’m into it,” he said with a grin.
“Will,” Jasmine said, “have one of my mother’s cookies. They’re almost as good as your mother’s trifle.”
Will took a cookie and bit into it. “Better, I should think,” he said.
The three of them munched happily on the cookies.
“What’s your house like?” Corey asked.
“A terrible old dump, really,” Will said.
“That means you like it,” Corey said with a grin. “You see, I’m learning to understand English English.”
“It’s in a valley,” Will said, “but if you ride up the hill you’re on the moor. A moor is …”
“Treeless and boggy,” said Jasmine, remembering the guidebook. “A place where travelers get lost.”
Will looked
serious. “A moor is the best place for riding—ever.”
Buy May Goes to England Now!
About the Author
Bonnie Bryant is the author of over one hundred forty books about horses, including the Saddle Club series and its spinoffs, the Pony Tails series and the Pine Hollow series. Bryant did not know very much about horses before writing the first Saddle Club book in 1986, so she found herself learning right along with the characters she created. She has also written novels and movie novelizations under her married name, Bonnie Bryant Hiller. Bryant was born and raised in New York City, where she still lives today.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1997 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller
Cover design by Connie Gabbert
ISBN: 978-1-4976-5376-4
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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Jasmine Helps a Foal (Pony Tails Book 10) Page 6