Wonder Light (7 page)

After breakfast and chores, Twig tiptoed to Wild Light's stall. Mr. Murley was in there, his lap covered in spilled milk, trying to feed her.

“Hi there, Twig.” He grinned and started to rise, but Wild Light wobbled up too, bumping him back onto his bottom in her newborn clumsiness.

Twig laughed softly as Wild Light tried to suckle Mr. Murley's milk-soaked shirttail.

“Can I try?”

“Sure. Maybe she'll find you less distracting, since you're not covered in her lunch.”

“Yet,” Twig said. Then she blushed, feeling dumb. What was she doing laughing, joking?

Mr. Murley smiled and handed her the rag. “See what you can get down her. I've got to get into town and buy some supplies to feed her properly.”

Mr. Murley left Twig alone with Wild Light. The filly steadied herself, then hopped straight up in the air, all four hooves off the ground, right in front of Twig. Twig yelped in surprise. Wild Light had only jumped a few inches, but it was such a funny, rabbitlike bounce.

She nuzzled expectantly at Twig.

“Calm down, now. I know you're hungry, but you're going to have to be still if you want anything to eat.”

Twig pushed gently on Wild Light's rump, and the filly folded her legs under her. Soon, Wild Light was half in Twig's lap, the bowl of milk was spilled, and she was sucking milk drips from Twig's hair.

Casey peeked around the stall door. “Wow. She's a messy eater. I'm supposed to tell you it's time to learn how to halter Rain Cloud.”

Twig rose, gently nudging Wild Light off. When Twig turned her back on the filly, she cried pitifully.

“She doesn't want you to leave, does she?”

Twig didn't want to leave Wild Light either. It didn't seem right for such a new baby to be all alone.

“I know,” Casey said. “We'll halter them both!”

“I don't know…” What if the wild unicorns were just waiting for her to come outside? But Ben
had
said she needed to be tamed.

In a moment, Casey had Rain Cloud by the halter and Twig had the prancing little Wild Light in the aisle. Casey led Rain Cloud to Wild Light and the pony and the unicorn stood nose to nose. Before Twig could stop her, Wild Light danced playfully around Rain Cloud. She jumped, her leap verging on a rear, right in the pony's face.

Twig heard a gasp of alarm. Mrs. Murley had entered the stable, and her eyes were big and round. But Rain Cloud just gave the filly one of his indignant snorts, then a glare of warning. Wild Light retreated a step and gave an
I'm sorry—I got too excited
whinny.

Mrs. Murley took hold of Rain Cloud and led him away from Wild Light. “Girls,” she said sternly, “that filly is too young for a halter.”

“I'm sorry,” Casey said. “I should've asked, huh?”

“I know it's exciting having a newborn filly, but we have to be careful to keep her safe. And introducing a new animal to a pony is a big deal. It can be dangerous.”

“We didn't want to leave Wild Light alone,” Twig said.

“I know. And she might cry when you go, but she really needs to get some rest. Let's put her back, and when Mr. Murley comes home with a bottle and some formula for her, you can help feed her again. It's time for you girls to groom your ponies now.”

***

Twig stood in the pasture, watching Rain Cloud and the other ponies. Taylor's pony, a golden-colored mare named Chatterbox, trotted up to greet Rain Cloud. Rain Cloud's ears pricked toward Chatterbox, and he nickered softly at her. He looked peaceful enough when he was with his friends, away from Twig.

“How's the filly?” Regina said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Lonely.”

“I wonder what happened to her mom.” Regina was quiet for a second. Then, “My mom's in jail,” she said.

Regina was waiting for her to say something, maybe to ask,
For
what?
Maybe to say,
Mine
too
. But Twig didn't feel like saying anything. She didn't know if her mom even knew where she was. Twig had sent her a letter just before what happened to Emily. Would she write back? If she did, would Keely answer it for her? Would she tell her what she'd done with Twig?

Maybe, in jail, Mom would be clean enough to care. Maybe. Mom hadn't put up much of a fuss when the police came. After they took her away, the police had found Daddy, and Daddy had wanted Twig. He'd been looking for her. He'd hugged her and called her
Twig
, in that way that made her love being Twig. But Daddy had come with Keely.

Mrs. Murley approached the girls. “Let's go get Rain Cloud's tack ready, Twig,” she said, “and then I'll show you how we catch him and get him saddled up.”

Mrs. Murley laid some sort of padding and a saddle in Twig's arms. It was much heavier than Twig expected, and her skinny, worn-to-wobbling arms nearly dropped it.

Mrs. Murley pretended not to notice as she draped an incomprehensible tangle of leather straps over her own arm. “I've been riding Rain Cloud. He'll be glad to have a break from such a heavy burden.”

Twig would be glad to have a break from heavy loads herself, but not if it meant riding Rain Cloud, who'd probably spent the last hour in the pasture plotting and laughing his snorty pony laugh with his friends about how he was going to send the new girl flying. Twig considered tossing her armload up in the air and making a run for it. Maybe there was some more poo for her to scoop up, another wheelbarrow to dump.

Twig nodded every now and then as Mrs. Murley demonstrated how to saddle Rain Cloud. She followed dutifully as she led the pony out to the stable yard.

And then Mrs. Murley said, “Now just put your toe in the stirrup and hold on there.”

Twig considered refusing. Didn't ponies bite? How far back could Rain Cloud's mouth reach? Regina was smirking at her. But Rain Cloud seemed tame enough, and she didn't want to look like a total wuss. Twig grabbed the pommel and put her slippery-soled, pointy toe in the stirrup and hauled herself up. She peeked at the ground. Not too far. Thank God Keely had gotten her into a pony ranch and not that horse ranch in Texas that Twig had seen when she pulled up Keely's Internet search history.

With Rain Cloud's lead in hand, Mrs. Murley said something to the pony and started to walk them slowly around the yard. Rain Cloud trotted forward. Twig squeezed her thighs and tried not to flinch. Falling wouldn't be so bad, as long as she didn't get trampled. Mrs. Murley was saying something about the reins, but Twig was busy planning how she'd ninja roll to safety if it came to that.

“Twig, honey, just relax your legs and hold the reins nice and gentle. When you squeeze, he thinks you want him to go faster.”

Twig stopped squeezing. The last thing she wanted was for Rain Cloud to go faster.

Are you ready, Twig?” Mr. Murley said.

Twig took a deep breath. She wasn't, not really, but Wild Light needed her. At first, Mr. Murley had taken care of Wild Light, but he'd let Twig bottle-feed her, and though she'd figured Mr. Murley would want the filly for himself since Caper was gone, he'd stepped aside, quietly and gradually letting Twig take on the responsibility for Wild Light.

Twig had worried that Wild Light's horn would pop up like Pinocchio's nose and give her away, but there had been no sign of it since the day she was born. What if she wasn't caring for her right and it wasn't growing at all? What would she tell Ben when he came back for her—if he came back for her? There hadn't been a glimpse of him since the day after Wild Light was born, since he'd introduced her to Indy.

The filly was just two weeks old, but she was already bouncing off her stall walls—sometimes literally. She could spring up in the air nearly to the height of Twig's shoulders without a running start. Today, they were going to turn her out for the first time, and that meant introducing her to the ponies. Twig willed her hand not to tremble as she held Wild Light's halter. What if they didn't like her? She was so different.

Mr. Murley said, “Remember, girls, we have to watch very closely. Wild Light doesn't know how to behave in a herd, and she doesn't have a mare to protect her. I think she's sure enough on her feet to get out of the way if there's trouble, but…if she does something one of the others doesn't want to tolerate, she could get hurt.”

“I'll keep hold of Sparkler,” Mandy offered. “She
is
the alpha mare. She's not gonna like this.”

Janessa rolled her eyes at Mandy, but followed her out to the pasture to wait with the ponies for Wild Light's entrance.

Wild Light skipped along the aisle toward the sunlight and open air, eager and carefree. Though Twig had her by the halter, it was clear she wasn't in the lead.

“Celeste!”

Twig turned at Regina's cry. Celeste was charging right at Wild Light—until Rain Cloud intercepted her. Celeste hesitated as Rain Cloud blocked her path, but the determination to run Wild Light off was still in her eyes. And then Sparkler intervened. All it took was a look from the alpha mare, and Celeste retreated.

“No, Celeste!” Regina took hold of her pony. “That's not nice!”

“Don't be too hard on her,” Mr. Murley said. “She's at the low end of the pecking order. She wants to show Wild Light her dominance, so she won't be at the bottom anymore.”

Regina's forehead creased with a compassion Twig had never seen in her before, and she whispered reassurances to her pony.

With an impish whinny, Wild Light hopped and grabbed Gadget's tail, giving it a little yank-nip. Gadget whinnied his outrage and kicked at Wild Light, but the filly sprang back just in time, and Rain Cloud stepped forward once again to defend her.

Janessa calmed her pony while Mr. Murley took Rain Cloud by the halter, and Twig fumbled in a vain attempt to get hold of Wild Light again.

Wild Light scampered behind Rain Cloud, then peeked around him and gave Gadget what could only be a look of defiance.
Ha! I can do whatever I want!

But Rain Cloud gave the filly an admonishing nip, and Wild Light bent her head down apologetically. Relieved to have her still for a moment, Twig grasped Wild Light's halter. Mr. Murley had her take the filly into the next paddock, where she could taunt the ponies through the fence instead.

Twig leaned on the ponies' side of the fence, watching the little bolt of white test her legs. Rain Cloud nuzzled up to Twig, and she scratched his head. “You're a good boy,” she whispered. “I'm proud of you.”

Mr. Murley came and stood next to Twig. “Well, it's going to take a while, but I think she'll find her place all right.”

Twig caught a hint of uncertainty in Mr. Murley's tone. He was watching Wild Light hop. Watching the way she held her head high. Her strange gait, so unlike a horse—like a creature meant for something other than a pasture, something wilder. She might find a way to get along while she was small. But she was growing and maturing so fast. And Twig had a feeling no alpha pony would be able to keep a grown Wild Light in line. No fence would keep her in.

May

Twig paused to straighten Rain Cloud's nameplate. She'd painted his name in pale blue, cursive letters. She glanced at Wild Light's stall. It still said “Caper.” Wild Light stuck her head over the stall door and watched Twig pour the feed into Rain Cloud's bin, as she'd done every morning for nearly two months. Rain Cloud dug into his breakfast with his usual noisy appreciation.

“Twig!” Janessa came jogging in. “Mrs. M needs you right away!”

“Okay. Be right back, Rainy-boy. Hang on, Wild Light.”

Wild Light whickered her protest, but Rain Cloud just rotated an ear toward her. The rest of him stayed focused on breakfast. He was a good pony. Now that Twig knew a thing or two about ponies, she realized just how easy he was.

Twig jogged toward the front door. Mrs. Murley was standing on the porch, waving her in. It was Saturday morning, and she supposed Mrs. Murley wanted her help with breakfast. She'd gotten pretty good with the apple cider syrup.

Mrs. Murley called to her again. “Hurry, Twig!”

Twig hurried, imagining lumpy syrup or some other breakfast emergency. But Mrs. Murley steered her toward the office instead. Twig held back, confused. The girls weren't allowed in there, not without special permission.

“Go on, Twig, there's someone here who wants to talk to you.”

“Here?”

“There.” Mrs. Murley pointed to the laptop, sitting open on her desk.

Twig's heart stopped, then started again double time. A blurry image moved on the screen. A face. Daddy. Twig sank into the chair in front of the screen.

“Twig,” Daddy said, “how are you doing, baby?”

Oh, Daddy, you're so far away
. That was all Twig could think, but she couldn't say it, or she'd cry. And she couldn't cry or she'd never stop. She bolted up, sending the office chair rolling into the wall, and she ducked under Mrs. Murley's arm and ran for her bedroom.

A minute later Mrs. Murley came in and shut the door softly behind her. “Twig?”

Twig's head was buried in her pillow, but she felt Mrs. Murley sink onto the bed beside her.

“Oh, Twig.” She brushed her hair with her hand. “I'm sorry. He just messaged me. I knew I should've talked to you first, but he insisted. He was afraid you'd say no again if I asked. You haven't spoken to him in months, Twig…I'm sorry.”

Twig turned her face slightly to the side and peeked at Mrs. Murley through her tangles. She'd pulled her neat ponytail out at the same time she'd thrown herself onto the bed. How could she explain why she couldn't talk to him now? Now that he knew she'd turned bad like Mom. Now that he'd let Keely send her away.

“Maybe sometime,” Mrs. Murley said tentatively, “you could tell me about your dad. He misses you. You could write him a letter instead.”

Twig shoved her face back into the pillow. He didn't miss
this
Twig. He missed the little girl she used to be.

“Or just draw a picture?”

Twig lifted her head. Daddy had loved her drawings when she was small, when things were different. But she was too old for crayons and drippy paintings now.

“Those sketches you did for our botany study were beautiful, Twig. I'll bet your dad would love to see something like that.”

“I wouldn't have to say anything?”

“Not a word.” Mrs. Murley smiled. “A picture is worth a thousand, and all that.”