Lucky Horse (13 page)

“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!”

“O
KAY
.” C
OLONEL
H
ANSON
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.”

“Too bad the Loftins didn’t volunteer their second horse to be a packhorse,” Carole said wistfully, thinking of how many trips down and up the mountain she was going to have to make.

“I know,” agreed Colonel Hanson. “But as nuts as they are about their horses, I guess we should consider ourselves honored that they offered to help at all.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Carole began to make a pile of all the gear she thought she could carry down on her first trip. They were going to have to hurry if they were going to be all packed up by the time the Loftins arrived at ten.

She carried down all the chairs but one, the refrigerator, and the solar lamp on the first trip. By the time she returned for the second trip, her father had the tent down and all their bedding ready to go. When she returned for the final trip, the kitchen items were
packed and her father was standing on his canoe-paddle crutch, frowning.

“What’s the matter, Dad?” she asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Even though the morning was cool, lugging stuff down a hill was hot work.

“I was just thinking about all this crazy stuff,” Colonel Hanson said. “Here I am, a colonel in the Marine Corps, and I can’t even help my daughter carry a down sleeping bag.”

“Oh, Dad, don’t feel bad. Accidents can happen to anybody. Even Marines.”

“Yes, but just look at all this stuff. If I hadn’t been so impressed with all Colonel Cheatham’s gear, you could have been finished in just one trip!”

Carole flopped down on the ground. “Well, look at it this way. If we hadn’t had all that stuff, we wouldn’t have had the collapsible paddle for you to use right now.” She grinned up at him. “I might have had to carve you a crutch out of green forsythia wood.”

“I don’t think there’s any green wood left in this part of the forest,” Colonel Hanson said, chuckling. “I think it’s all been clear-cut for hot dog skewers!”

Carole laughed. She had enjoyed lots of her father’s fancy equipment, but she’d enjoyed her own, simpler stuff, too. “Maybe the key is to take a few neat new things mixed in with our old standbys,” she said.

“Right,” said Colonel Hanson. “The Greeks had a word for that.”

“Oh?” Carole looked up. “What?”

“Moderation.”

Carole laughed. “Well, I guess I’d better moderate another load down to the car before the Loftins show up.”

“I wish I could help you, honey.”

“I know, Dad.” Carole rose to her feet and grabbed the last three boxes. “Back in a flash.”

By the time she returned from her final trip to the car, the Loftins were arriving with Rambler. The happy little horse now sported a full Western saddle, complete with saddlebags and two water canteens.

“This is Cisco,” Mrs. Loftin said proudly. “He’s an Appaloosa. It’s a Western breed.”

Developed by the Nez Percé Indians
, Carole almost added, but stopped herself just in time. Instead she just smiled at her old friend Rambler. Though his real name was Cisco, he would always be Rambler to her. He tossed his head up and down as if to say hello.

Colonel Hanson gave Carole a quick wink, then tried to look afraid. “Gosh, he won’t bite, will he?”

“Well, he might nip you if you feed him a carrot the wrong way,” Mrs. Loftin said.

“Come on over here and let’s get you up in the saddle,” Mr. Loftin called. “You should always mount a horse from the left side.” He looked at his wife. “Ethel, you be sure to hold him tight.”

Mrs. Loftin grabbed the reins while Mr. Loftin helped Colonel Hanson mount the horse. Rambler stood calmly while the new, strange rider settled himself in the saddle.

“Now what?” asked Colonel Hanson, still playing dumb.

“Well, I’ll take one side of the bridle and Ethel will take the other, and we’ll get you down to your car. But don’t kick him or try to make him go any faster!”

“Oh, no,” said Colonel Hanson. “I certainly wouldn’t want to do that.”

Slowly the Loftins led Rambler and Colonel Hanson down and up the mountain trail. Carole followed, her father’s canoe-paddle crutch and collapsible chair slung over her shoulder. It was funny to watch their parade from behind. There was her father, sitting tall in the saddle, and Rambler walking calmly, and then the Loftins on either side of the bridle, arguing over which side of the trail was safer. Carole shook her head. No wonder Rambler liked to ramble at night. It was probably the only way he got any fun at all!

Finally they clopped into the parking lot.

“That your station wagon?” Mr. Loftin asked.

Colonel Hanson nodded.

They led Rambler right to the driver’s seat. Mrs. Loftin clutched Rambler’s reins while Mr. Loftin again helped Colonel Hanson off the horse.

“Thank you so much,” Carole’s father said with a smile. “It was most kind of you to help us out.”

“Oh, think nothing of it. We’re glad to help, particularly if it lets us show off our horses.” Mrs. Loftin gave Rambler a pat on the neck.

“Yeah.” Mr. Loftin smiled for the first time since Carole had seen him. “We love our Cisco and Pancho a lot, and we take extra-special care of them.” He rubbed Rambler behind his ears. “We figure they’re pretty lucky horses to have owners like us!”

The Loftins backed Rambler up so that Colonel Hanson could scoot into the car. Carole gave the horse a final pat good-bye and got into the passenger seat. Colonel Hanson started the car, and with a wave to Rambler and the Loftins, they rolled out of the parking lot.

“Well, you just never know what kind of people you might run into in the woods,” Colonel Hanson said with a laugh.

“I’ll say,” agreed Carole.

Still laughing softly, her father pulled onto the highway that led back to Willow Creek.

“How does your ankle feel when you drive?” Carole asked worriedly.

“Oh, it’s a little tender, but I can certainly get us home.” He reached into the glove compartment and fished out the cell phone. “Why don’t you give Colonel
Cheatham a call and tell him our situation? He and his sons can meet us at the house and help us unload all this gear.”

“Okay.” Carole smiled and punched in the number, grateful to be heading home.

“C
AROLE
!” S
TEVIE CRIED
as she rounded the turn in the barn. “You’re back!”

“Hi, Stevie! Hi, Lisa!” Carole turned away from Starlight as Stevie and Lisa ran toward her. They embraced in a three-way hug, happy to see one another after the long weekend.

“How did you guys do?” Carole asked. “Starlight looks terrific!”

“We said we’d take good care of him for you,” Stevie said proudly. “And we are women of our words.”

“How was your campout?” asked Lisa.

“Unbelievable.” Carole rolled her eyes. “We had all this high-tech equipment and this mushroom-shaped tent and we got caught in a thunderstorm and my dad
sprained his ankle and I almost got struck by lightning and—”

“What?” cried Stevie and Lisa, their eyes wide. “Struck by lightning?”

“Yeah,” answered Carole. “And then—”

“Wait,” said Lisa. “Why don’t we go somewhere and sit down so you can tell us all about this slowly?”

“Okay,” Carole said with a broad smile.

They got sodas from the refrigerator and walked to their favorite picnic place, the hill overlooking the paddocks. While Belle and Prancer frolicked in the field below, Carole told her friends all about fishing and stargazing and cooking on the solar stove.

“So your dad’s all right now?” Stevie asked as Carole finished up her story.

“Yes. I helped him into the emergency room after Colonel Cheatham helped us unpack the car. He’s got a bad sprain, but the intern said what I did had been exactly right. He even admired the way I wrapped Starlight’s leg wrap on my dad’s foot!”

Lisa giggled. “Did you tell him it was a horse bandage?”

“I had to,” Carole laughed. “It was about a thousand feet too long to be a human bandage.” She took a sip of soda and stretched out in the soft green grass. “So tell me about your weekend.”

Stevie and Lisa looked at each other, then both began to tell Carole about how busy they’d been and
about the CDs falling on Belle and Patch’s nervousness at the thunderstorm and how Starlight hated Stevie’s music so they’d put a babushka on his head, and that there had been a noise they’d thought was a ghost. When they finished talking, they were out of breath.

“Gosh,” said Carole. “It sounds like you guys had a wild weekend, too.”

“I don’t think we sat down five minutes the whole time,” Lisa replied. “But we learned an awful lot.”

“Yeah,” agreed Stevie. “Like sometimes the luckiest horse is the one that gets what they need, instead of a lot of extra stuff they don’t need.”

“That kind of sounds like our camping equipment,” said Carole. “We had a lot of neat stuff, but we never even used most of it, and then I wound up having to carry all of it down to the car by myself. If those Loftin people had volunteered their other horse, I would have been here hours ago!”

“Huh?” Stevie and Lisa frowned. “What Loftin people?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you that?” said Carole. “The first night there I heard a whinny, and I followed it to a campsite where this really unfriendly couple had two sweet Appaloosas corralled. That night, after we went to bed, one of them broke out of their paddock and came visiting! I took him back, but he came back the next night, too, right after the thunderstorm. I rode him up the mountain and he carried my father back to the camp.”