Hanoverian and a Morgan.”
Lisa didn’t see why one boy needed two horses. After all, he could only ride one at a time. But she didn’t say so. In fact, she gave up entirely on talking and just followed along quietly as Marguerite continued to reel off a list of her friends and their purebred horses.
Her monologue got a little easier to take once they entered the stable building and Lisa could see the horses herself. She didn’t think she had ever seen so many beautiful horses in one place. Every single one seemed to be a purebred of one kind or another. More importantly, every one appeared well cared for and healthy.
As Marguerite led her on a quick tour, Lisa saw that the stable itself was a little smaller than Pine Hollow, but it was just as spotlessly clean. And Lisa knew that her mother would consider it a lot more elegant. Every stall had a large, polished brass nameplate by the door. The tack room had cedar-lined walls and fancy saddle racks. The people they passed were all dressed to the nines—even the ones Marguerite pointed out as stable boys.
After a while Lisa realized that she still hadn’t asked Marguerite about her own horse. She quickly did so.
Marguerite smiled. “We’re just getting to her stall.” She hurried down the aisle they were in and paused beside a stall door. “Here she is. This is my horse, Amber.”
Lisa looked into the stall and gasped. The horse inside was gorgeous. Amber was a light bay mare, about sixteenhands tall, with a refined head and lively, soulful eyes. She turned and gave Lisa a curious, intelligent glance, then returned to her previous occupation of picking at the hay in her hayrack.
“Do you like her?” Marguerite said complacently. “She’s a purebred Trakehner. Those come from Germany, you know. In Europe.”
Lisa knew that the Trakehner was a breed from Germany. As a matter of fact, she also knew that Germany was in Europe. But she kept quiet. She was busy looking at the horse. Amber was amazing.
For the first time, Lisa started to feel a little more positive about the day. She was starting to think that spending an afternoon riding one of these impeccably bred creatures could be pleasant.
“She’s wonderful,” she told Marguerite sincerely, reaching out to pat Amber’s soft nose. “So, are you ready to ride?”
“Sure,” Marguerite said. She headed toward the tack room.
Lisa followed silently for a few steps. She couldn’t wait to find out which horse would be hers. Finally she cleared her throat. “Um, so who will I be riding today?”
Marguerite stopped short and gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no!” she cried. “I knew there was something I forgot.”
“What do you mean?” Lisa asked, confused.
Marguerite spun around and hurried down the hallwayin the other direction, toward the offices she had pointed out earlier. “I’m so sorry, Lisa. I forgot to arrange a horse for you.” She tossed Lisa an abashed grin over one shoulder. “But don’t worry. I’m sure we can scrounge up something.”
L ISA SIGHED AND glanced up as she prepared to mount. “Okay, Tiny,” she said. “Here we go.”
The mare didn’t respond to her name. Lisa didn’t blame her. It wasn’t exactly appropriate. Tiny was a large, heavy gray horse, swaybacked and slow-moving.
“Um, I didn’t notice Tiny on the tour you gave me,” Lisa said, trying to be tactful. She mounted, feeling her leg muscles stretch a bit. Tiny was a lot broader across the back than slender, athletic Prancer.
Marguerite shrugged. “I know,” she said. “Her stall’s way in the back. They don’t like to keep her where people will see her. She’s not exactly up to par with the other horses here, you know.”
Lisa nodded, but she gave Tiny a quick pat, too. Tiny looked around and snorted as if in appreciation.
Lisa knew better than to write off a horse because of its appearance. Just because Tiny wasn’t a gorgeous purebred like the other Fox Crest horses—and
Lisa didn’t see why one boy needed two horses. After all, he could only ride one at a time. But she didn’t say so. In fact, she gave up entirely on talking and just followed along quietly as Marguerite continued to reel off a list of her friends and their purebred horses.
Her monologue got a little easier to take once they entered the stable building and Lisa could see the horses herself. She didn’t think she had ever seen so many beautiful horses in one place. Every single one seemed to be a purebred of one kind or another. More importantly, every one appeared well cared for and healthy.
As Marguerite led her on a quick tour, Lisa saw that the stable itself was a little smaller than Pine Hollow, but it was just as spotlessly clean. And Lisa knew that her mother would consider it a lot more elegant. Every stall had a large, polished brass nameplate by the door. The tack room had cedar-lined walls and fancy saddle racks. The people they passed were all dressed to the nines—even the ones Marguerite pointed out as stable boys.
After a while Lisa realized that she still hadn’t asked Marguerite about her own horse. She quickly did so.
Marguerite smiled. “We’re just getting to her stall.” She hurried down the aisle they were in and paused beside a stall door. “Here she is. This is my horse, Amber.”
Lisa looked into the stall and gasped. The horse inside was gorgeous. Amber was a light bay mare, about sixteenhands tall, with a refined head and lively, soulful eyes. She turned and gave Lisa a curious, intelligent glance, then returned to her previous occupation of picking at the hay in her hayrack.
“Do you like her?” Marguerite said complacently. “She’s a purebred Trakehner. Those come from Germany, you know. In Europe.”
Lisa knew that the Trakehner was a breed from Germany. As a matter of fact, she also knew that Germany was in Europe. But she kept quiet. She was busy looking at the horse. Amber was amazing.
For the first time, Lisa started to feel a little more positive about the day. She was starting to think that spending an afternoon riding one of these impeccably bred creatures could be pleasant.
“She’s wonderful,” she told Marguerite sincerely, reaching out to pat Amber’s soft nose. “So, are you ready to ride?”
“Sure,” Marguerite said. She headed toward the tack room.
Lisa followed silently for a few steps. She couldn’t wait to find out which horse would be hers. Finally she cleared her throat. “Um, so who will I be riding today?”
Marguerite stopped short and gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no!” she cried. “I knew there was something I forgot.”
“What do you mean?” Lisa asked, confused.
Marguerite spun around and hurried down the hallwayin the other direction, toward the offices she had pointed out earlier. “I’m so sorry, Lisa. I forgot to arrange a horse for you.” She tossed Lisa an abashed grin over one shoulder. “But don’t worry. I’m sure we can scrounge up something.”
L ISA SIGHED AND glanced up as she prepared to mount. “Okay, Tiny,” she said. “Here we go.”
The mare didn’t respond to her name. Lisa didn’t blame her. It wasn’t exactly appropriate. Tiny was a large, heavy gray horse, swaybacked and slow-moving.
“Um, I didn’t notice Tiny on the tour you gave me,” Lisa said, trying to be tactful. She mounted, feeling her leg muscles stretch a bit. Tiny was a lot broader across the back than slender, athletic Prancer.
Marguerite shrugged. “I know,” she said. “Her stall’s way in the back. They don’t like to keep her where people will see her. She’s not exactly up to par with the other horses here, you know.”
Lisa nodded, but she gave Tiny a quick pat, too. Tiny looked around and snorted as if in appreciation.
Lisa knew better than to write off a horse because of its appearance. Just because Tiny wasn’t a gorgeous purebred like the other Fox Crest horses—and
Similar Books
