Horse Wise

by Bonnie Bryant

  While Carole was sharpening her pencil, her father came into the tack room, which adjoined Mrs. Reg’s office.

  “Oh, there you are,” he said. “Listen, Max wants to have a short sponsors’ meeting after Horse Wise is dismissed. Would you mind waiting around for me?”

  “No problem,” she said. She really didn’t mind, and besides, it would give her a chance to talk with Stevie and Lisa alone.

  “Thanks,” he said. “And one other thing—what’s normal temperature for a horse?”

  “Ninety-nine and a half to a hundred and a half,” Carole answered automatically.

  “Oh, good,” he said. “I thought that little fellow out there might be coming down with something and I wasn’t sure what I should do for him. But it’s just a normal temperature.”

  “What were you going to do if he had been sick?” Carole asked out of curiosity. She was sorry the minute she asked.

  “Oh, you know, the usual. Tea and cinnamon toast and he can stay home from school one day, but he’d have to see the doctor to be allowed to stay home any longer than that.”

  Carole knew, beyond any doubt, that he’d used that line on whatever Pony Clubber he was “helping.” It was his rule of thumb whenever Carole got sick at home. It made sense at home and always made her laugh, too. But that was at home. This was at Pine Hollow. They weren’t the same at all. Carole knew that. Why didn’t her father?

  She didn’t know what to say to him, so she decided not to say anything. “See you later,” she said, escaping to the privacy of Barq’s stall. On her way there, she found Stevie and Lisa and told them they had to have a Saddle Club meeting in the tack room after Horse Wise. While her father was busy, she could use the time to apologize to her friends for his dumb behavior. She hoped they would understand.

  STEVIE TOOK TOPSIDE’S saddle off its storage rack and rested it on the bench in front of her so she could clean it. She’d finished her Horse Wise work before her friends and was able to get a head start on cleaning tack. She was already working on the stirrup leathers by the time Carole and Lisa arrived.

  “You know, I think I preferred it this summer when we could ride every day, not just twice a week,” Stevie told them.

  “Of course you did!” Lisa said, laughing. “Riding five or six times a week is much better than going to school.”

  “For once, that isn’t what I mean,” Stevie said. “It’s that there’s so much to learn about horses. I don’t think you can learn all you need to know twice a week—even with Horse Wise, which, by the way, I love a lot!”

  “Me, too,” Lisa agreed. “Everybody does. Even Veronica was doing something for Garnet when I passed her stall.”

  “Not something really tricky like untacking her, was it?” Stevie asked sarcastically.

  “No, she was patting her,” Lisa admitted.

  “Well, that’s a step,” Carole said. “I didn’t think she knew that much about horse care.” Carole shook her head in disbelief. “Why her parents ever bought her another horse—especially a horse like Garnet—is beyond me.”

  “Well, because they could afford it,” Lisa offered tentatively.

  “Money isn’t the issue,” Carole snapped. Lisa and Stevie looked at her in surprise. “Well, I suppose in Veronica’s case, it always is. But that’s not what I mean. You shouldn’t get a horse because you can afford it, or because your parents think you’re wonderful, or because you can talk them into it. You should get a horse because you can take care of it, because you know the things you need to know, because you can be responsible for it.”

  Carole picked up Barq’s bridle and began polishing it vigorously. She continued talking. “The thing is that I don’t envy a lot of stuff Veronica has, like the big house and the designer clothes and all that. But I do envy her owning Garnet. It makes me so angry because I don’t understand it. She’s a pretty good rider, all right, but she doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of her.”

  “You have to deserve a horse,” Stevie agreed.

  “Anyway, that reminds me of what I wanted to talk to you guys about,” Carole said. “My father.”

  “You deserve him!” Stevie said. “He’s just wonderful. We all adore him, you know.”

  Carole looked at her quizzically. “I guess I do know, but what I don’t know is, why? I mean, Horse Wise is about getting wise about horses, not answering his ‘whys’ all the time. He knows less than Veronica does. It’s really embarrassing.”

  Stevie was surprised by Carole’s words. It had never occurred to her that Carole could be embarrassed by Colonel Hanson. Stevie could be embarrassed by her parents all the time. But her parents were parents. They did typical things like believing her brothers, or telling Stevie she couldn’t ride if she didn’t study first, or even telling her teacher that she hadn’t read the book that she’d written the A report on. That was embarrassing. But Colonel Hanson told corny old jokes and sang Elvis Presley by heart. He was just wonderful!

  “Of course he doesn’t know anything,” Stevie said. “He’s never had a chance to learn, but he sure is learning now. You know, I only had to show him once how to assemble a bridle and he had it. He even remembered the names of all the parts. You should have seen him showing that little boy in Horse Wise, Liam, how to mount his pony. Your dad was terrific. And he did it right, too. And he made it fun. Your dad—”

  Stevie thought she could have gone on for hours about how great Colonel Hanson was. She also had the feeling that if she did, Carole would never speak to her again. Whatever it was that Stevie thought about Carole’s dad, Carole didn’t seem to agree. Stevie paused to think about it, exploring the possibilities as she finished soaping the saddle’s skirt. Their silence was interrupted by Max’s arrival. Max didn’t look very happy. In fact, he looked a little frantic.

  “Oh, good, girls, I thought I would find you here. I need some help. Someone took off on a trail ride across the fields and left the paddock gates open behind them. Samson’s on the loose. Can you saddle up and help find him?”

  Max didn’t have to ask twice. Each girl took her partially cleaned tack and ran back to her horse’s stall. Stevie had Topside tacked up in about three minutes. She was still tightening the girth when she met her friends at the door to the stable. A little colt could get into a lot of trouble in a very short time. There wasn’t a minute to waste!

  “Let’s go!” Stevie said.

  “Wait a minute, we need to take a few things with us,” Carole said rationally.

  “A halter for Samson,” Lisa suggested. “And a lead rope.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Carole agreed. “Though he’s barely used to the halter and it might not work. But you’re right. We ought to have them with us.”

  “The first-aid kit, just in case?” Stevie offered.

  “Yeah, good idea,” Lisa said. “I’ll go get it from the tack room. And some extra ropes, too. You never know.”

  “And one other thing,” Carole said.

  “What’s that?” Lisa asked.

  “Delilah,” Carole said.

  Of course, Stevie thought. There was one thing that would be more appealing than anything else in the world to a lost or frightened colt, and that was his mother.

  Quickly, Carole snapped a long lead rope on Delilah and fastened it to Barq’s saddle. Delilah was a well-trained horse. She would follow along willingly.

  “One more thing,” Lisa said to her friends. Stevie wondered what it was they might have forgotten. “The good-luck horseshoe,” Lisa said.

  “Once for us and once for Samson,” Stevie said, brushing the horseshoe twice as she passed by. The shiny, smooth surface seemed reassuring to her.

  Then they were off!

  AS ITS NAME implied, Pine Hollow was surrounded by hills. They weren’t very steep, but there were a lot of them. While the hills made it easy to look up and inspect the nearby fields, they made it very difficult to see anything farther than a couple of hundred yards in every direction. Also, since Max had made
arrangements with many nearby farmers to ride in their fields, as long as fences were opened and closed properly, it was just about impossible to figure out which direction the rider might have taken. There were signs of horse paths everywhere they looked.

  “We just have to follow the open fences,” Carole said logically. “And we have to hope that the rider didn’t leave them all open. As soon as we find the closed one, we’ve got Samson located, more or less. Then, with some luck, Delilah will do the rest of the work for us, right?”

  “Sounds good, except for one thing,” Stevie said. Carole recognized Stevie’s bad-news tone of voice. “There’s only one rider at Pine Hollow who would waft out into the fields without thinking about closing fences behind her.”

  Carole and Lisa supplied the answer at the same time. “Veronica diAngelo,” they said.

  “Yeah, and she would not only leave one fence open behind her. She’d leave every fence open behind her. Let’s face it. If she stays in the fields, Samson will probably be okay, because at least he’ll be contained in an open area. The worst thing, though, would be if she went into the woods up on the hill, because once she goes through the last fence up there, there are no more fences.”

  “Oh, no! The highway!” Lisa said. “Those woods run right by the interstate, don’t they?”

  “Yes, they do,” Carole said. “And they’re very thick woods up there where a little inexperienced colt could get into a lot of trouble! There’s no time to waste! Let’s go!”

  The decision, then, was an easy one. Since the worst possible outcome was that Samson could have made his way into the woods, they had to go there first. If he didn’t turn out to be there, but did turn out to be in one of the fields, that could be tricky, but at worst, wouldn’t really be dangerous to Samson.

  Carole had learned that horses seemed to be able to sense urgency, whether it was to win a competition of some kind or to act in an emergency. Most horse books she’d read said they weren’t especially smart animals, but they sure did seem to understand certain things at certain times. This was one of those times. If Carole hadn’t been able to hear all four of Barq’s hooves hitting the ground as they rode up the rise, she would have sworn they were flying. Delilah kept right up with them, and Stevie and Lisa were right behind her.

  Ironically, their trip was sped up by the fact that, as they went from field to field, they only had to pause to close the gates behind them. The way was easy for them—and for Samson—courtesy of Miss Veronica diAngelo.

  And then they spotted Veronica. She was having a wonderful time. She and Garnet were cantering in a field next to the woods. It was one of the most level fields in the area, a logical choice for somebody who just wanted to canter. Carole pursed her lips in anger. It was so babyish to think that the most fun you could have on a horse was cantering, just because it was fast. In the first place, it wasn’t true. Having fun on a horse meant learning to work with the horse, not getting the horse to do all the work. A horse wasn’t a race car. In the second place, constantly cantering wore a horse out. Garnet would do what Veronica told her to do, but she’d be tired for days, and could stiffen up badly. Carole wanted to give Veronica a good lecture on her behavior. She would have, but Samson was more important. And Samson was nowhere in sight.

  Carole looked at Delilah hopefully. The mare would know where her colt was before anybody could see him. Delilah just looked forlorn and confused. She whinnied. Carole knew she was calling for Samson. There was no answer.

  “Where could he be?” Carole asked Stevie and Lisa, who drew their horses to a halt where she was standing. “If Veronica’s here, then he can’t have gone any farther, can he?”

  “Not unless Veronica did,” Lisa said logically.

  Then, all three of them looked at the fence along the edge of the woods. The gate stood wide open.

  “I’d like to give that girl a piece of my mind!” Stevie burst out angrily.

  “Me, too, but first things first. Let’s find Samson!” Carole said.

  She gave Barq a signal and once again, he flew into action.

  It irked Carole more than she could say to see Veronica wave to them gaily as they went through the open gate into the woods. Veronica had no idea how much trouble she had caused. She probably wouldn’t care when she found out, either.

  A four-month-old colt is a curious animal. Carole found herself making lists of ways he could get into trouble—everything from eating poisonous plants, to tripping and breaking a fragile young limb. Sometimes people reported seeing bobcats in these woods. Even worse, sometimes there were hunters, looking for deer, in and out of season. A colt was about the size of the local deer. There was a dreadful cold feeling in her stomach.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” Stevie said sensibly. “We’ll find him. He’ll be okay.”

  It didn’t surprise Carole that Stevie could read her mind. Stevie was probably feeling the same way, and so was Lisa. Carole took comfort in the fact that the three of them together seemed to have a way of solving some pretty terrible problems. It wasn’t just strength in numbers, because three wasn’t a very large number. It was the power of their friendship. That was what The Saddle Club was about. But would friendship be enough this time?

  Suddenly, Delilah’s ears perked up. Her nostrils flared. She halted, bringing Barq to a sudden stop. Carole watched the mare carefully. She was their leader now.

  Delilah pawed the ground and whinnied. Her ears flicked around, listening for a return signal. She took two steps up the hill, and the girls followed. Delilah glanced at Carole. On a hunch, Carole unclipped the mare’s lead rope. Carole had the feeling that Delilah was so well trained that she wouldn’t run away from her human masters as long as she felt close to them. Without the rope, she could follow her instincts and they would surely lead her to her colt.

  For a moment Delilah stood frozen. The girls were silent, waiting. Then Delilah whinnied again, calling to her son. She raised her head high, trying to make the sound carry. Then she waited.

  A rustling sound came from the leaves down the hill a bit to the left. The girls eagerly turned their heads in that direction. A squirrel emerged from a pile of leaves and skittered up a tree.

  Tentatively, Delilah began to walk up the hill, ducking under branches, and squeezing between trees. There was no way anyone riding could follow her. The girls dismounted and led their horses after Delilah, making as little noise as possible so the mare could hear what she was listening for.

  Delilah’s pace picked up. Her ears flicked to the left and she turned that way, going straight now. She whinnied louder and repeatedly. Her tail twitched excitedly, and her head bobbed, as she tried to see everything in range.

  Then she stopped and whinnied loudly. And, for the first time, the girls could hear Samson’s reply. It was little more than a whimper. The girls wrapped their horses’ reins around firm branches, and ran over to see where Samson was.

  He’d fallen into a gully totally overgrown with briars. His legs were completely tangled in the mass of leaves and sharp green shoots. He was lying down and seemed to be crying. His slender legs had been poked and torn at repeatedly by the vicious weeds. Blood trickled out of his wounds.

  They’d found Samson, all right, but were they too late to save him?

  “WHERE DO WE begin?” Stevie asked, aghast.

  “We begin by freeing him,” Carole said sensibly. Carole, who could sometimes be flaky when it came to anything else, was all common sense with horses. She could keep a cool head in emergencies.

  “Okay,” she began, knowing her friends needed some assurance. “We helped bring this little guy into the world and it’s our job to keep him here.” It sounded good. Somehow knowing that Samson and her friends were relying on her helped. Her mind was sharp, her mission clear. “Stevie, are you carrying your pocketknife?”

  “Of course,” Stevie said and handed it to Carole.

  “Here’s how we’re going to do this. I’m going to work on cutting
the briars. Stevie, you stay by Samson’s head and do whatever you can to keep him calm. I don’t want him kicking me if we can help it. Lisa, you put the lead rope back on Delilah and tie her up where she can watch, but not interfere. Stay with her for a while until we’re sure she’ll stay calm. The last thing we need on our hands is a hysterical mother!”

  Stevie and Lisa laughed at Carole’s joke. It was good for all of the girls. It broke some of the tension. Carole opened Stevie’s old Girl Scout knife and surveyed the situation. The briar was the kind that was like a tough philodendron with stickers on the stems. Once you stepped into it, it acted almost like a Chinese finger trap and there was no getting out without some kind of scratch. Carole quickly realized that she wouldn’t be able to keep Samson from getting hurt, and began to see her job as trying to keep him from getting hurt badly. She was going to need his cooperation as much as her friends’.

  Samson had slid into a gully where the briar was flourishing. The good news was that he hadn’t slid very far. He was lying on his side, and all four of his legs and his tail were entangled.

  First things first: Carole needed to know if he had any wounds worse than scratches. Slowly and carefully, to minimize her own scratching, she lowered herself into the gully and sat down next to the colt. He looked at her fearfully. His eyes were wide open and white at the edges.

  “There, there, boy,” Carole said soothingly. “Take it easy, now. I’m just going to check you out and then get you out.” His eyes closed a little bit and he seemed to relax.

  “He trusts our voices,” Stevie said.

  “Maybe because they were the first sounds he ever heard when he was born. Do you think that means he thinks we’re his mother?” Lisa asked. At that moment, Delilah whinnied and Samson answered with his own small cry.

  “No, I think he knows who his mother is. He just thinks we’re a team of capable humans who helped him out of one jam and are going to help him make it out of this one,” Carole said. She hoped Samson was right. She began her task.