Lucky Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  Colonel Hanson moved it slightly, then grimaced with pain. “It’s not as swollen as it was last night, but it sure does hurt when I wiggle it.”

  “If you can move it, then it probably isn’t broken,” Carole said, slipping out of her sleeping bag. “I guess the horse bandage and the ice were the right things to do.”

  “I don’t think I could have found a better paramedic than you,” Colonel Hanson said. “I mean, curb service on horseback in the middle of the night after a thunderstorm?”

  Carole giggled. “It was a pretty strange night.” She remembered her near miss with the lightning bolt. “Not one I’d like to repeat anytime soon.”

  “How about we just kick back here today?” her father suggested. “I mean, there’s no point in cutting our trip short now, since we’ll be leaving tomorrow morning anyway. Let’s relax and enjoy the rest of our wilderness weekend.”

  “Fine by me, if you’re sure you feel like it,” said Carole.

  “Just set up one of those folding chairs with a stool close to the fire so I can issue orders to you all day long and I’ll be fine,” her dad said with a grin.

  Carole opened the tent flaps and pulled one of the collapsible armchairs into the bright sunlight. She helped her father to his feet, and together they hobbled to the chair.

  “Ah,” said Colonel Hanson as Carole elevated his leg with a camping stool. “This is the life.”

  The day was sunny. High white clouds drifted across a bright blue sky, leaving no hint that the night before had been split by rumbling thunder and crackles of lightning. Carole smiled as she took a deep breath and inhaled the fresh aroma of the pine trees that surrounded them.

  “How about I cook us some breakfast?” she said, suddenly aware of her growling stomach.

  “Honey, I’ll eat whatever you can come up with,” her father replied.

  She went over and looked in the refrigerator. The chicken was all gone. Other than some fancy freeze-dried dishes that she would have to cook on the solar stove, mostly what they had left was hot dogs. “Do hot dogs sound good?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Great!” said her dad.

  She cleared out the soggy ashes from the old fire and found enough dry wood in the forest to start another small blaze. She cut several more branches from another forsythia bush, and soon four hot dogs were sizzling over the crackling flames. When they were ready, she fixed two on a paper plate for her dad.

  “Mmmmm, this is perfect.” Colonel Hanson took a bite of hot dog. “I think you may be right, Carole. Hot dogs over an open fire might just be the best camp meal ever.”

  “I’m glad you like them, Dad.” Carole laughed. “I think we may be having quite a few more.”

  After breakfast Carole threw another log on the fire and got the tree identification book she’d packed.

  “Let’s see how many different trees we can find from this one spot,” she said, carrying the book over to her dad. “I’ll write them down. Who knows, maybe they’ll come in handy in school this year.” She gave a little shudder at the thought of school. Stevie was right—it did seem incredible that in just three short days she would again be sitting at a desk, working on book reports and science projects.

  “Okay.” Colonel Hanson flipped to the section on conifers and pointed to a huge pine tree directly in front of them. “I bet that big tree there is a loblolly pine.”

  “Look it up and see if you’re right.” Carole leaned over his shoulder.

  What Colonel Hanson thought was a loblolly pine turned out to be an eastern hemlock, but soon they had correctly identified all the trees that surrounded their campsite.

  “That’s amazing, isn’t it?” Colonel Hanson said. “I would have said there were two or three different species, and we’ve named almost twenty.”

  “It is pretty amazing,” replied Carole. “I wonder how many birds we could see from this one spot?”

  Colonel Hanson smiled. “Get your bird book out and we’ll give it a try.”

  Carole exchanged her tree book for her bird book. In just a little while, she and her father had found chickadees, grosbeaks, and a beautiful bright-colored bird called a scarlet tanager.

  “Gosh,” said Carole, looking through the telescope. “This is really neat. There are almost as many birds as there are trees.”

  “It’s too bad we don’t take more time to really look at them at home,” Colonel Hanson said.

  They found a pileated woodpecker and an ovenbird. Then Carole cooked more hot dogs. After they ate they relaxed by the fire with other books they’d brought from home. Carole had the new horse book she’d wanted to read, but it was hard to pay attention to it and not think of Stevie and Lisa and Starlight. She couldn’t help wondering if their Pine Hollow sleepover had been as exciting as her campout in the forest. She smiled. She didn’t imagine they’d almost been struck by lightning, but anything Stevie was involved with was likely to have a lot of fireworks!

  Slowly the sun slipped downward in the sky. When the clouds behind the eastern hemlocks grew pink, Carole put her book aside.

  “Are you ready for some supper?” she asked her dad.

  “Anytime you are, honey,” Colonel Hanson replied. “What’s for dinner?”

  She grinned, embarrassed. “Since we had hot dogs en brochette for breakfast and hot dogs flambés for lunch, how about hot dogs à la Carole for dinner?”

  “I was hoping we’d have that.” Colonel Hanson laughed. “Tell me, what do hot dogs à la Carole taste like?”

  Carole sighed. “Actually, they taste a lot like hot dogs en brochette and hot dogs flambés.”

  “Fine with me,” Colonel Hanson said, still smiling.

  Carole built the fire up and found some more green sticks for the hot dogs. By the time she had everything ready to cook, the sun had gone down and the fire was a cozy circle of warmth in a cool evening.

  “These are great, honey,” Colonel Hanson said, his mouth full. “I think hot dogs à la Carole are my favorite.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” she giggled, dousing her bun with mustard and ketchup.

  They finished their supper and relaxed beside the fire. Colonel Hanson stretched his twisted ankle out farther on the camping stool, while Carole sat on the ground beside the fire and stared into the dancing orange flames. It had been a great weekend, she decided. Even if a lot of stuff had gone wrong, she and her dad had done some really fun things together. She was just about to thank him for the trip when she heard a noise at the edge of the forest.

  “Did you hear something?” she asked her father.

  “Yeah.” Colonel Hanson twisted in seat. “It came from over there.”

  Carole looked over her shoulder and peered into the woods. Shadows seemed to be moving through the trees. Could it be Rambler on another nighttime visit? She squinted hard into the growing darkness. Her breath caught in her chest. Not Rambler, but Rambler’s owners, the Loftins, stepped out of the forest.

  “Hello,” Mrs. Loftin called, her mouth barely stretching in a smile. “We thought we’d come say hello.”

  “Hello,” Colonel Hanson’s voice boomed through the clearing. “Come join us at the campfire.”

  “Hi.” Carole quickly remembered her manners. She got up and unfolded two chairs for the Loftins. “Please come meet my father.”

  The Loftins walked over to the fire and shook hands with Colonel Hanson, then sat down in the chairs and seemed not to know what to do next.

  “Uh, Dad and I were just finishing dinner,” Carole said, “and we were about to toast some marshmallows for dessert. Would you join us?”

  “Fine,” said Mr. Loftin.

  Carole ran to cut some more green sticks for the marshmallows. She wondered, as she searched among the bushes, if she should tell the Loftins about Rambler and their nighttime adventures. They were so strange they might get angry at both her and the horse. Maybe she should wait and see what turn the conversation took.

  “My daughter tells me you’re camping w
ith horses.” Colonel Hanson leaned forward in his chair.

  “Yes. We have two Appaloosas that we camp with almost every weekend,” Mr. Loftin said. “We used to go to the family campgrounds, but there were so many children who wanted to ride the horses that finally we just decided it would be better to tent camp farther out in the wilderness.” Mr. Loftin looked at Colonel Hanson and gave a little laugh. “I couldn’t allow strange children to ride my horses. Who knows what they would do to them?”

  Colonel Hanson winked at Carole as she threaded marshmallows onto four sticks.

  “And we were running into too many other horses at the family camps,” Mrs. Loftin added. “Our horses could have actually caught diseases from those other animals!”

  Colonel Hanson frowned. “I don’t know that much about horses, but aren’t they supposed to have some kind of vaccination before they come into the national parks?”

  “Yes, but you still never know what kind of strange horse owners you might run into,” Mr. Loftin replied with a frown.

  Carole put the marshmallows over the fire. Thank heavens I didn’t mention Rambler, she thought. These people would probably sue me for horsenapping!

  “Say, you look like you’re having some problems with your ankle.” Mr. Loftin peered curiously at Colonel Hanson’s elevated foot.

  “I sprained it last night in the storm,” he explained. “My daughter and I got stuck on top of Mount Stringfellow. We had quite a time getting down.”

  “What on earth were you doing up there in dark?” Mrs. Loftin asked with a frown.

  “Stargazing,” Colonel Hanson explained.

  Mr. Loftin pushed his baseball cap back on his head. “How are you going to get back to your car? It’s a long, steep trail down the mountain.”

  “Well, I’m not sure,” Colonel Hanson said. “Carole and I haven’t discussed it.”

  Carole gave the Loftins two green sticks loaded with marshmallows for them to toast, but before they began to cook them, Mr. Loftin shot a look at his wife.

  “You know, I don’t usually volunteer for rescue missions, but I could let you ride one of our horses down the trail,” he said gruffly.

  “But it would have to be in full daylight,” added Mrs. Loftin. “And of course one of us would have to lead you. We couldn’t possibly let a non-rider hold the reins himself.”

  “Yes. Our horses aren’t used to anybody but us,” said Mr. Loftin. “I hate to think what they might do. Horses don’t like unfamiliar places or unfamiliar people.”

  Carole had to look at the ground to keep from laughing. These people had no idea how much their horse Rambler loved unfamiliar people and places. In fact, he had sneaked out of his paddock every night to find them!

  Colonel Hanson smiled. “Well, that’s a wonderful offer. I’d like to take you up on it, if you’re sure I wouldn’t upset your horse too much.”

  “Oh, don’t worry.” Mr. Loftin finished eating his marshmallows and stood up. “We’ll be right here to make sure everything goes all right.”

  “What time shall we come back?” Mrs. Loftin stood up beside her husband. “It does need to be full daylight.”

  “How about ten o’clock?” Colonel Hanson suggested.

  “Ten o’clock it is.” Mr. Loftin nodded to Carole and her father as he and his wife stepped away from the campfire. “See you then. And thanks for the marshmallows. They were tasty.”

  “Bye,” Carole said as the Loftins disappeared down the trail. She turned to her father and began to laugh.

  “Can you believe how strange they are?” she asked.

  “They’re nice to help out, but they do seem a little overprotective.” Colonel Hanson laughed too. “I think what you said last night was absolutely right—what the Loftins don’t know about our Rambler won’t hurt them.”

  “Well, they’ll never hear about it from me or you.” Carole laughed. “And Rambler will never tell!”

  “I WONDER WHEN Carole will get back?” Stevie relaxed against one of the hay bales at the entrance of Pine Hollow. It was the first time since late Friday afternoon that she and Lisa had a chance to sit down for longer than five minutes.

  “Soon, I hope,” said Lisa. “I can’t wait to show her Starlight. He just glows in his stall.”

  “We did do a good job with him, didn’t we?” Stevie grinned. “He’s one lucky horse.”

  “He is, but so are Danny and Patch and practically every other horse in the stable. We did a great job with them, too,” added Lisa.

  “That’s right.” A car pulled up in the driveway. Stevie leaped to her feet. “Here comes Max!” she cried. “We’d better get ready for inspection.”Lisa and Stevie stood together proudly as Max, his wife, Deborah, and Mrs. Reg got out of the car.

  “Hi, girls!” Deborah called as she went to take Maxi, their daughter, out of her car seat. “How’s it going?”

  “Great,” replied Stevie. “Did you guys have a good trip?”

  “Wonderful.” Mrs. Reg walked over and peered at Stevie and Lisa closely. “You two look a little tired.”

  “Well, we may have missed a couple of hours of our beauty sleep,” admitted Lisa. “But nothing beyond that.”

  Max came up and stood beside his mother. “Okay. Are you two ready for inspection?”

  Stevie and Lisa grinned and nodded.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Mrs. Reg and Deborah took Maxi to the house while Max slowly walked through the stable, checking every horse and stall. Stevie and Lisa followed in breathless silence. When Max got to the turn in the U-shaped structure, he turned and walked toward the foaling stall.

  “There was a loose shutter in that stall,” reported Stevie. “We closed it one night during a storm, and the next day we repaired it with a hammer and nails.”

  “Hmmmmm.” Max looked at the shutter and nodded.

  “And the lightbulb up there was burned out.” Lisa pointed to a fixture ten feet above their heads. “We got the long ladder and changed it.”

  “Hmmmmmm,” Max said again.

  He walked to the end of the aisle and turned back toward the front of the stable. Stevie and Lisa again followed as he checked every stall. They passed Prancer, who was standing against the back wall, a sad look on her face. Max stopped immediately.

  “Why does Prancer look so down in the dumps?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

  “I—I don’t know,” said Lisa. “We took care of her just like the other horses.”

  “Hmmmmmm,” Max said a third time.

  They continued, eventually coming to Starlight’s and Belle’s stalls.

  “Wow,” Max said when he saw Starlight in his stall. His coat looked as soft as velvet and his hooves shone as if he were going to a show. “Nice job on Starlight, but what’s this on Belle?”

  Max slipped into Belle’s stall and ran his hands over her withers. His experienced fingers stopped at the small swelling Stevie’s CD case had made.

  “Uh, we had a slight accident,” Stevie confessed. “I knocked one of my CD cases down through a hole in the hayloft. It hit Belle on the shoulder. I’ve been putting liniment on it.”

  “But we fixed the hole,” Lisa added. “The same day we fixed the shutter.”

  “What about this water in the bottom of her stall?” Max frowned.

  “Uh, I guess we forgot,” Stevie said, suddenly embarrassed. “We just got so busy taking care of everybody else.”

  Max looked at them sternly. “I’m really impressed by what you two have done. Danny looks well rested, Starlight looks fabulous, everybody else seems to be in good shape, and the maintenance work around the barn is great. I have just one question.”

  “What?” Stevie and Lisa asked together.

  “Why didn’t you take care of your own horses as well? Prancer looks like she’s lost her last friend, and Belle’s standing in water with a good-sized bruise on her withers.”

  Lisa and Stevie look at each other, their mouths agape. They had no answer. Why hadn’t they
taken the best care of the horses they loved most? Suddenly all the other work they’d done seemed foolish.

  “I don’t know, Max,” Lisa said. “I guess we just got so caught up in taking care of everything else, we put our own horses last.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Stevie. “I always felt like I could take care of Belle later.”

  Max sighed. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to take care of her now. Prancer, too. They need the same treatment Danny had last week. No riding, put them out in the paddock with each other, and longe them every day.”

  “Do you think that will help?” Stevie was beginning to get scared. What if something really bad was wrong with Belle and she had ignored it?

  “Yes, I’m sure they’ll both be fine.” Max smiled. “You guys just took too much care of the other horses and not enough care of your own.”

  “I guess the luckiest horse is the one who gets the care they need, not the extra things they really don’t need,” Lisa said, remembering the three groomings Starlight had endured each day.

  “Right,” said Max. “Now, go get busy. You’ve got horses to put out to paddock!”

  “Okay.” Stevie hurried over to Belle’s stall while Lisa ran down to Prancer’s. “And thanks, Max.”

  “Thank you, Stevie and Lisa. Other than these two things, you guys have done a great job!”

  “OKAY.” COLONEL HANSON adjusted the collapsible paddle under his arm and smiled at Carole. “Here goes nothing.”

  He took one step, then hopped on his good leg, then took another step. He grasped the paddle at a different angle and tried again. Step, hop, then step. Finally he turned and looked at Carole again.

  “I’m sorry, honey. My ankle feels better, but I still really can’t put any weight on it.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be much help in packing up this campsite.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, Dad.” Carole looked at all the stuff they’d dragged up there and forced herself to smile. “It’ll just take a little longer.”

  “I can sit here and pack up the kitchen gear and the tent, though.” Her father hopped over to the collapsible table and sat down. “That should help a little.”