Sonrise Stable

by Vicki Watson

  Rosie and Carrie were too excited to sleep much that night. When they arrived back at the horse tent early the next morning, Scamper and Kezzie nickered their greetings, happy to see familiar faces, and eager for their breakfast. Rosie patted Scamper as she tossed two flakes of hay into his stall.

  “The rides don’t open until noon,” Kristy said. “Why don’t you wait until then to get the horses out?” She put her hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “If you change your mind, I can ride him first to see how he reacts. He’ll need to get used to the rides before your drill team performs tonight.”

  Kristy had choreographed a pattern on horseback to music. Rosie, Carrie, and several other members of the 4-H club had practiced it the past few weeks until both they and the horses had all the moves memorized. Rosie looked forward to their performance that evening.

  After they finished cleaning the stalls, Rosie and Carrie wandered around the fairgrounds. They spent a lot of time looking at the photography and art exhibits.

  Rosie examined several horse sketches in the youth art section. “I have a drawing of Scamper I want to enter next year.”

  “You’re so good at drawing. I’m sure you’ll win first place. I can’t even draw stick figures.” Carrie sighed. “I’m much better at writing.”

  “I’m awful at writing.”

  “Anyone can write,” Carrie said. “It’s like talking, only on paper. I’m better at writing than talking. You and Grandma are easy to talk to, but with most people my mind goes totally blank, and I can’t think of anything to say.”

  Rosie laughed. “I never have that problem, but when I try to write something down, it doesn’t sound the same.”

  Carrie lowered her voice to a whisper. “I write in my diary every night.”

  Rosie nodded. Why was Carrie whispering? She made it sound as if the diary was a deep dark secret.

  “I’m working on a story about Kezzie too,” Carrie added.

  “Oh, wow! That gives me an idea,” Rosie said. “You could write a book about horses, and I’ll illustrate it.”

  “That’s a great idea! We can use some of the money we make to buy Grandma that indoor riding arena she’s always wanted.”

  Rosie was so excited about the book, she wanted to start on it right away. “What kind of stuff are you writing about Kezzie? I need to know that so I know what pictures to draw.”

  When they reached the end of the art building, Rosie heard music coming from the carousel. “The carnival rides are starting!”

  “Ready to ride Scamper?” Carrie asked.

  Rosie gulped. “Uh… I can’t find my swimming suit. Um—I mean, I can’t find my helmet.” She turned to look all around her. “Oh no! I can’t find my pony!”

  The girls looked at each other and laughed so loudly that people in the building turned to stare at them.

  “I can’t believe I was such a scaredy-cat about that.” Rosie pulled Carrie’s arm, and they ran out of the building.

  When they reached the horse tent, Rosie patted Bandit as she walked past him to Scamper’s stall. She hoped they didn’t run into Billy again. She hadn’t seen him all morning, but his pony had been fed. Maybe Billy planned to ride later in the day. She and Carrie groomed and saddled Scamper and Kezzie, and led them to the riding arena.

  Kristy watched from outside the fence. “Be careful, Rosie. He may be a little skittish.”

  Rosie nodded and mounted Scamper. He behaved perfectly—until they reached the end of the arena closest to the rides. Just then, one called “The Bullet” turned a group of girls upside down, and they began to scream.

  Scamper jerked his head up and leaped sideways. Rosie hung precariously from the side of his neck for a moment. She grabbed the horn and pulled herself back into the saddle. Whew! That was a close call. Rosie could feel her heart pounding. She had never fallen off a horse before, and she didn’t want to start now. Maybe she should have let her mom ride him first.

  Scamper snorted and whirled around to face the metal contraption that screamed like a girl. He appeared to be considering whether he should bolt for the other end of the arena, far away from the scary creature.

  Rosie saw him look over at Kezzie, who was paying no attention at all to the carnival rides. Scamper snorted loudly, like a wild mustang warning the herd of danger.

  Kristy hurried down the outside of the fence toward them. “Are you all right? Are you sure you don’t want me to ride him?”

  “Yeah. I’m okay, Mom. I think the worst is over. When he realizes Kezzie’s not worried, he should settle down.”

  The chestnut mare resumed plodding calmly around the ring. Scamper pranced behind her, looking back every few steps to see whether the monster was catching up to him.

  “Easy, boy. Trust me. It’s nothing to be afraid of.” Grandma had told her that a horse could sense when his rider was scared. Rosie took a deep breath and tried to relax. She was patient but firm, keeping Scamper moving in as straight a line as possible. After a half dozen laps, he seemed to realize he was not in any danger, and she could feel him calming down.

  “Whew! I hope we have that fear conquered.” Rosie sighed with relief. “I should teach him that verse Grandma told us—about God not giving us a spirit of fear.” She continued working him at a trot and canter to use up the rest of his nervous energy.

  Kristy took Scamper’s reins when Rosie stopped at the arena gate. “You handled him really well. Do you think he’ll be all right tonight?”

  Rosie nodded. “He’ll be fine. He doesn’t seem afraid now.”

  ***

  That evening Rosie and Carrie rode side by side leading the drill team into the arena. Scamper, Kezzie, and the rest of the horses performed flawlessly, weaving and circling in time to the music. The high point of the performance was when they rotated around the center of the arena creating a giant horse pinwheel. The crowd cheered as the team members exited at the end of the routine.

  Rosie was surprised to see her aunt Julie making her way through the crowd toward them.

  “Great job!” Julie said as Rosie and Carrie rode out of the arena.

  “Thanks! I thought you guys weren’t coming until tomorrow,” Rosie said.

  The twins walked up beside their mother. Rosie’s mouth watered when Jamie pulled a big wad of pink cotton candy from a plastic bag and stuffed it into her mouth. Rosie wasn’t surprised to see that Jessie was empty-handed. The girl had probably eaten all of hers already.

  Scamper stretched his neck out and bumped Jamie’s shoulder.

  “Look out!” Rosie pulled her horse’s head back. “Scamper will steal your cotton candy. He might eat the whole thing— plastic bag and all.”

  Julie unwrapped a mint and fed it to Scamper. “The girls and I are staying to watch the barrel racing. You two want to join us?”

  “Sure! We’ll have to put these guys in their stalls first.” Rosie couldn’t wait until she could start training Scamper for barrel racing. She wished Julie’s family lived closer. The fair would be even more fun if Jared and the twins were there with Carrie and her.

  Julie located another mint and fed it to Kezzie. “Do you need any help, Rosie?”

  “No thanks.” Rosie jumped down from Scamper. “We’ll be back as soon as we take care of them.”

  The girls led Scamper and Kezzie toward the horse tent, but they ran into a traffic jam of exhibitors and spectators. Rosie turned Scamper around. “Let’s go the other way. It’ll be faster.”

  Carrie nodded and followed Rosie.

  CRACK!

  Scamper jumped sideways as they approached the corner of the horse tent. Rosie jumped also. She turned and looked back at Carrie. “What was that?”

  CRACK!

  There it was again. Rosie stepped forward and peeked around the corner. She was shocked to see Billy King hitting his pony, Bandit, with a whip. Even though the boy was older and nearly twice her size, Rosie yelled and started to run toward him. “What are you doing?”

  Scamper stopped dead
in his tracks, refusing to budge. He stared warily at Billy and the whip.

  “None of your business, twerp,” Billy sneered. “He needed to learn a lesson, that’s all.”

  Rosie was so mad she couldn’t think clearly. “I’m telling my grandma how you were treating Bandit!”

  “I’m s-o-o scared; I’m shaking in my boots. Oh, no! Granny will get me!” Billy shook his whole body as if he were badly frightened, then laughed and sauntered off, spurs jangling.

  When Bandit hesitated, Billy jerked the reins and dragged the trembling pony along behind him.

  Rosie’s arms shook as she led Scamper into the tent and turned him loose in his stall.

  “Poor Bandit,” Carrie said. “What a beautiful pony. I can’t believe his owner is so mean to him.”

  “As soon as we’re done, let’s find Grandma. She’ll know what to do about Billy.”

  Carrie nodded. “I hope so. That guy doesn’t deserve a pony like Bandit.”

  When the girls located Grandma, Rosie’s anger returned as a picture of the frightened pony flashed back into her mind. She could hardly speak, so Carrie explained that they had seen Billy whipping his pony.

  “That’s awful! If he treats Bandit that way here, I can only imagine what he does to him when no one is around.” Grandma shook her head. “I’ll talk to Billy, but I don’t know whether it will make any difference. I could tell his 4-H advisor—or someone on the fair board.” Grandma seemed to be thinking out loud. “I’ll see what I can do, girls.”

  Rosie felt better. She was still mad at Billy, but she trusted that her Grandmother would figure out a way to fix everything.

  Chapter 21

  Horse Show

  A small army assembled early the next morning to help Rosie and Carrie prepare for the show: Kristy and Eric, Julie, Jonathan, their three kids, and of course, Grandma. The morning passed quickly in a flurry of activity as they clipped, bathed, and groomed Kezzie and Scamper.

  “I don’t think these horses have ever looked this good,” Grandma pronounced when they were finished.

  “Now it’s your turn.” Kristy pointed to Rosie and Carrie. “Your show clothes are in the camper. Go wash up and change while we saddle the horses for you. Julie went to sign you up for your classes.”

  Julie returned to the tent with the exhibitor numbers as Carrie and Rosie arrived in their show outfits.

  “Whoo-ee, look at you two!” Julie stepped back and admired the girls. Rosie wore black chaps and a bright purple shirt. Carrie had tan chaps and a green show shirt. “It won’t matter how the horses do; you’re sure to win first place just for those outfits.”

  Rosie and Carrie looked at each other and laughed. Kristy pulled out her camera and snapped a few photos of the girls together.

  Grandma rolled her eyes. “When I was a kid, everyone showed in blue jeans and white shirts. Horse shows are nothing but fashion contests anymore. It should be about how you ride and how well you’ve trained and cared for your horse, not how fancy you look.”

  “They’re on class eight now.” Kristy examined the show bill. “Carrie, you’re in class thirteen, and Rosie is in fifteen. You two better scoot! You need to warm the horses up before your classes.””

  The girls turned to leave.

  “Hold on!” Julie waved two white paper rectangles with large black numbers printed on one side. “Don’t go without these.” She pinned Rosie’s number on the back of her shirt, while Grandma did the same for Carrie.

  “Do your best,” Grandma reminded them as she and the rest of the family walked toward the bleachers.

  Rosie and Carrie led Scamper and Kezzie to the practice arena not far from the show ring. It was already crowded with contestants warming up for their classes. Once inside the gate, the girls mounted.

  “Nervous?” Rosie asked.

  Carrie gave a grim smile. “Yeah, what about you?”

  “A little.” Rosie urged Scamper into a jog, and Carrie followed her.

  Soon the announcer called class thirteen, Easy-Gaited Pleasure, to the arena.

  “That’s you, Carrie.”

  Carrie stopped Kezzie and stared at Rosie as if unsure what to do.

  Rosie gestured toward the show ring. “What are you waiting for? Get in there!”

  Carrie rushed toward the gate to enter the class.

  Rosie rode to the side of the arena and parked Scamper where she had a good view of the class. She waved to her mom and grandmother in the stands and saw her dad pull out his video camera. She turned back toward the class. Carrie needs to smile. She looks so nervous. Rosie tried to catch her attention, but Carrie never looked her way.

  Kezzie didn’t appear nervous at all. She seemed to love the attention of the crowd.

  “Show gait,” the announcer called.

  Kezzie sped up into a natural, high-stepping running walk. She was so smooth; Carrie barely moved in the saddle.

  Rosie leaned forward and patted Scamper’s neck. “Your friend looks good, doesn’t she, buddy? Grandma always says Kezzie loves an audience. What about you? I hope you’ll do that well when it’s our turn.” Rosie glanced at the horsehair bracelet on her wrist and thought about Jet. “Your mom would be proud of you, Scamper.”

  The contestants reversed direction and performed the walk and show gait again. At the end of the class, they lined up in the middle of the arena. The judge walked down the line, examining each of the horses, and jotting notes on his clipboard. When he reached the end, he handed the paper he’d been writing on, to the ringmaster who took it to the announcer’s booth.

  “In sixth place,” the announcer began, “number 179, Tim Miller on Smoke ’Em.”

  Rosie held her breath while they went through the placings: fifth, fourth, third, second …

  “And your first-place winner is number 229, Keziah’s Jubilee, ridden by Carrie Rogers.”

  “Yay!” Rosie yelled so loudly that Scamper jumped. “Oops, sorry, boy. I’m just happy because Carrie and Kezzie won!”

  Grandma and Kristy rushed to the end of the arena where Carrie, wearing a huge smile, exited with Kezzie.

  Carrie stopped beside Scamper and handed Grandma the trophy and large blue ribbon. “I can’t believe we won!”

  Rosie smiled. “Congratulations, Carrie. You were great!” “Both of my girls did a great job!” Grandma alternated between patting Carrie’s leg and Kezzie’s neck. “Let’s get Kezzie to her stall so we can watch Rosie’s class.”

  ***

  As class fourteen entered the ring, Rosie went back to the makeup arena. Her class was coming up next. She walked Scamper around to keep him loose and relaxed. It wasn’t long before the announcer called out, “Class fifteen, Western Pony Pleasure, to the arena.”

  While she waited at the gate to enter, Rosie saw Carrie and Grandma climb the bleachers to join the rest of the family. She looked over the other contestants. It was hard to tell just by looking at them who might have a chance of beating her. She spotted Billy King a few horses back on Bandit. The palomino gleamed like polished gold. Billy glanced at her, and she made a face at him. She couldn’t understand how he could be so mean to Bandit.

  When the rider ahead of her started through the gate, Rosie nudged Scamper to follow. Once inside the arena, Rosie turned almost immediately to the left and crossed the arena to get a better position on the rail. Her mom and grandmother had drilled it into her that she needed to stay away from a pack of horses. That way the judge would have a clear view of her and her horse. That worked because she wanted to stay far away from Billy anyway. Okay, she told herself. Forget about Billy for now and concentrate on the class.

  “Jog,” The announcer called out a change in gait.

  “Jog,” Rosie repeated softly to Scamper. She squeezed both legs lightly against his sides. The pony obediently picked up an easy jog. Stay on the rail, Rosie reminded herself. She glanced around and didn’t see anyone close to her. “Good boy,” she whispered to Scamper.

  “Lope your ponies.
”

  Rosie applied light rein pressure to tip Scamper’s nose inward and pressed with her outside heel. He exploded into a fast canter on the left lead. Easy, boy. You don’t have to get that excited about it. She pulled back, and Scamper settled into a smooth lope.

  After reversing directions, they walked and then jogged to the right. The class was almost over. With her attention focused so intently on Scamper, she wasn’t sure how the other riders were doing, but she knew Scamper had performed well enough to win the class. Rosie realized she was holding her breath. She released it and took a deep breath.

  The announcer asked for a final lope.

  Rosie noticed the judge up ahead. Don’t blow it now, Scamp.

  As she gave the signal for the lope, a blur of horse and rider passed by on her left, then cut directly in front of them. When the other horse’s hindquarters brushed against his nose, Scamper tossed his head and swished his tail angrily.

  What? Rosie stared in disbelief at Billy King’s back as he loped off in front of them on Bandit. She forced herself to focus on her own horse and tried to get him into the correct gait before the judge saw them, but all Scamper wanted to do was chase after the pony that had bumped him. He fought against the bit and continued to toss his head. They were halfway around the arena before Rosie could get him settled down and into a smooth lope.

  Rosie fumed. She knew they had blown any chance of winning the class. Why had Billy done that? It couldn’t have been an accident.

  The announcer called for everyone to line up in the center of the arena. Rosie made sure she was as far from Billy as she could get. She stared down at her saddle horn. She was already fighting back tears and knew if she looked out at her family in the bleachers the flood would begin.

  Although there was no way they would win the class now, Rosie hoped for at least a fifth or sixth place ribbon. The announcer began calling out the winners. After fourth place, Rosie slumped in the saddle. She knew they wouldn’t win anything at all.

  First place was announced last—Billy King.