A Hundred Horses by Sarah Lean

then closed her eyes and shook her head. My turn to play her game.
    “That’s why you took my suitcase, so I’d have to come and find you,” I said, glad I was getting a reaction from her. “And I’m here for two weeks, and I’ve got nothing better to do.”
    I watched her eyes darting about under a frown.
    “I wish you’d just go away,” she muttered.
    “But you tell lies. And,” I said, realizing I was getting her riled, “I want to help. I could take the goat back to Mrs. Barker; then she won’t have to know you’re here.”
    I didn’t know I was going to say that, but right then I knew I meant it. Then the frown and scowl were gone, and Angel smiled.
    Rita was in the doorway, hands on hips, interested in this bit of our conversation. But it was just for Angel and me. I held my ground and waited. Rita nodded to herself and returned to the kitchen. Cutlery clattered.
    Angel left her cup on the windowsill and wandered around the room, running her hand over things, not looking at me. She came up behind where I was sitting on a stool. I thought I’d started to figure out what Angel was like. She was probably making faces at me behind my back. But before I could put my cup and saucer down to turn around, I felt Angel’s fingers combing through my hair. She started braiding, turning my hair gently.
    “If you really want to help,” Angel said, with a smirk in her voice, “you’re going to have to help me catch the goat first.”
    I felt the tug at the back of my neck when she pulled the braid taut and tied it.
    “I thought that’s what was in the stables!” I said.
    She laughed.
    “You guessed wrong.”
    I felt the braid fall against my shoulder, heard the soft patter of feet as she ran out, snatching a plate of food and chips from Rita in the doorway as she went.
    Rita snuffed a soft laugh. She seemed to know Angel well, but it felt like I had joined in a story in the middle of the book. And now I felt like an idiot again. I’d got it all wrong, and she still hadn’t given back what belonged to me.
    Then I realized that even if she wasn’t hiding Mrs. Barker’s goat in the stables, she was hiding something in there. She’d lied again, but I’d guessed what it was: Belle, the black-and-white horse. But I had no idea why, or what was really going on.

Nineteen
    T hat evening Mom telephoned and told me she was tired and had only a few days left to prepare before the conference. I told her I was wide-awake and she said it must be the fresh country air and I said or maybe the big sky and I could tell she was smiling. Afterward I asked Aunt Liv if I could go out again, and she said yes, but not for long.
    I couldn’t stay away from Angel, and not just because I didn’t have the suitcase back.
     
    The trailer door was open. I could see Angel sitting across the armchair. She didn’t say anything when I went in, and she didn’t seem surprised either, as if she had been waiting for me. She moved her legs, and I sat on the warm arm of the chair where they had been.
    “You promised you would give my suitcase back,” I said.
    Her eyes narrowed. It made me want to take up less space on the chair.
    “Tell me why you want it first,” she said.
    I wanted to be able to tell someone about the carousel, about how I needed to put it back together again and find the tin girl. I didn’t want to be a liar, not like her. It’s so hard to hide things. I wanted to tell someone. Should I tell her?
    The longer it took me to answer, the fiercer Angel’s eyes pierced mine. I could see her mouth changing, not smirking anymore but smiling. And I knew I wanted to tell her; I wanted to share more with her. Then we heard footsteps running toward the trailer.
    “Don’t let them in,” Angel whispered, slipping to the floor.
    I closed the door behind me and hurried down the steps toward the widening halo of a flashlight.
    “Nell! Mom says you’ve got to come see,” Alfie said. “Maggie’s having her babies.