Crown Prince by Linda Snow McLoon

a lot longer. They all have their own horses, and they plan to go to shows this summer.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make sense, Sarah,” her father said. “Don’t overreact. The other riders can’t be that far ahead of you.”
    â€œOh really? Tim and Paige went to a two-phase event in the spring, and they’re entered to ride in the Fair Pines Horse Trials. Rita’s father is going to take her to lots of hunter/jumper shows. Kayla will compete with Fanny at the Quarter Horse shows. And then there’s me. Where do I fit in?”
    Sarah fought the tears that welled up and threatened to spill out. The events of the day had left her stressed and exhausted. Now this meeting with Mr. DeWitt seemed more than she could deal with.
    â€œLook, Sarah,” her father said, “Chandler DeWitt’s farm is a business, and a business has got to make enough money to cover its expenses. I doubt that Mr. DeWitt makes a practice of discouraging steady customers like you. I think you’re jumping to conclusions. Why don’t we simply wait until tomorrow night to find out what’s on Mr. DeWitt’s mind?”
    â€œYou and Abby have both had pretty exhausting days,” her mother added, as she got up from the table. “You’ll feel much better after a good night’s sleep. I’m just relieved you didn’t get hurt, Sarah, and I hope Jack will put you on more reliable horses from now on. But you need to shower and hit the hay early, both of you.”
    The overwhelming sense of foreboding that had stayed with Sarah all day intensified when she and her parents arrived at Brookmeade Farm the next evening. She’d thought about little else except the meeting since she’d awoken that morning. She had come up with a number of possible reasons why Mr. DeWitt wanted to see them—none were good. When she told Kayla about the call from Jack, her friend was as baffled as she was. Both of Sarah’s parents were quieter than usual during their early dinner, and even Abby didn’t have much to say.
Well, here we are. We’ll soon hear the worst,
Sarah thought.
    They headed toward the stable lounge, a comfortable room with a large window looking out to the indoor arena. Turning a corner, there was the familiar scurry of paws from the DeWitts’ Jack Russells. From the way they raced around Sarah, it was obvious Taco and Spin wanted to play. She bent down to pat them. The DeWitts followed closely behind their terriers.
    Mrs. DeWitt spoke in her usual cheery voice. “Our two boys are very glad you’re here, Sarah. They lobbied hard to come to the barn tonight in hopes they might see you.”
    â€œThey’re the cutest dogs!” Sarah replied, and for the first time that day she smiled. Taco raced away to pick up a small towel for playing tug-of-war and ran back to Sarah. “No time for fun and games tonight, Taco,” Sarah said, as she rubbed him behind his ears.
    Mr. DeWitt extended his hand to Sarah’s parents, welcoming them to the farm. “I’m glad you could come on rather short notice.” He held the door open, inviting them into the cozy lounge where a large flagstone fireplace was centered on the far side of the room next to hickory-paneled walls decorated with English foxhunting scenes. Bookcases on both sides of the fireplace held a collection of equestrian books supported by hunting horn bookends. During the winter, a warming fire often blazed here. Parents could watch their young riders during lessons, or boarders could kick back to read the horsey magazines that were scattered on the coffee table.
    Jack rose from a chair near the door and also extended his hand in greeting. Mrs. DeWitt gestured toward the leather chairs and sofa. “Please make yourselves comfortable,” she said. “Chandler and I are so pleased we can spend some time with Sarah’s parents. She’s one of our favorites, you