grinned. “Thanks,” I joked back, following him inside the cozy, welcoming bunkhouse and tossing my duffel bag onto the nearest bed. “While you’re at it, could you fluff my pillow for me, too?”
John chuckled. Then suddenly he stopped and tilted his head to one side, listening. “That sounds like Dad calling,” he said abruptly. “I’d better go. See you.”
Without another word, he disappeared through the door. I was kind of disappointed—it was too bad he’d had to go just when we were really starting to communicate. But then I shrugged and snapped open my suitcase, digging around for my riding clothes, which Mom had buried under a pile of button-down shirts and two pairs of pantyhose. I had plenty of other things to think about.
A few minutes later Kate, Carole, Stevie, and I were at the barn, getting ready to go for a ride. We had our favorite horses already picked out from our previous trips, and Kate had alerted Walter to have them ready for us.
I was really happy to see my horse, Chocolate. She’s a sweet, gentle bay mare who’s really easy and fun to ride. Carole, as usual, was riding a strawberry roan named Berry. And Stevie was paired up with Stewball,a mischievous skewbald with a personality that almost matches Stevie’s.
As I took hold of Chocolate’s halter, John Brightstar appeared at my side. “Do you want me to bring you your saddle?” he offered.
I smiled. “Thanks. That would be great.” Western saddles are heavy and hard to handle, so I was grateful for the help—until John showed up carrying a tiny pony saddle!
Kate giggled. “Uh, John,” she said.
I had spotted the twinkle in his dark eyes. “I just thought these fancy English-rider types might prefer a little saddle to a real one,” he explained, straight-faced.
Stevie burst out laughing. She’s usually the first one to appreciate any kind of joke. I smiled, too. I could already tell John was a nice guy. “Thanks,” I told him. “I think we can handle the real thing.”
Just then John’s father, Walter, bustled into the ring. He spotted the pony saddle immediately. “John!” he barked. “What’s going on?”
Kate answered for him. “We were just joking around, Walter,” she said calmly. “John’s helping my friends saddle up.”
“It doesn’t look like he’s being much help,” Walter said sternly.
I was a little surprised by his tone. I thought he was being kind of hard on his son. We really weren’t in a big hurry, and John had only been kidding around.
I shot John a sympathetic look. He wasn’t lookingat me, though—he was staring sheepishly at his father. He didn’t say another word as he helped his dad saddle up our horses and Kate’s Appaloosa, Spot.
Once I was in the deep, comfortable Western saddle, riding out of the corral with my friends, I quickly forgot about John and Walter Brightstar. I love riding in any form, and I especially love the kind of riding we do at Pine Hollow. But riding at the Bar None is special, too. We weren’t riding through fields and hilly woods. Instead, we were riding through the desert on dusty trails, passing tall cacti and scrubby bushes, with the imposing Rockies always in view in the distance. It was so open and wild and unique—it almost felt as though we’d been dropped into an old Western movie, with cowboys and stagecoaches and all the rest of it.
I was thinking about that when I realized Kate was talking about her secret. She’d already told us that she planned to adopt a beautiful white (well, actually a very light gray) wild stallion she’d seen running free nearby. The Bureau of Land Management runs a program that allows people to do that, and their next adoption was coming up in a week. Kate was really excited, though she was a little worried that someone else would get the horse she wanted before she did. He sounded like a special horse—Kate’s eyes positively glowed every time she talked about him.
“So when can we see your
John chuckled. Then suddenly he stopped and tilted his head to one side, listening. “That sounds like Dad calling,” he said abruptly. “I’d better go. See you.”
Without another word, he disappeared through the door. I was kind of disappointed—it was too bad he’d had to go just when we were really starting to communicate. But then I shrugged and snapped open my suitcase, digging around for my riding clothes, which Mom had buried under a pile of button-down shirts and two pairs of pantyhose. I had plenty of other things to think about.
A few minutes later Kate, Carole, Stevie, and I were at the barn, getting ready to go for a ride. We had our favorite horses already picked out from our previous trips, and Kate had alerted Walter to have them ready for us.
I was really happy to see my horse, Chocolate. She’s a sweet, gentle bay mare who’s really easy and fun to ride. Carole, as usual, was riding a strawberry roan named Berry. And Stevie was paired up with Stewball,a mischievous skewbald with a personality that almost matches Stevie’s.
As I took hold of Chocolate’s halter, John Brightstar appeared at my side. “Do you want me to bring you your saddle?” he offered.
I smiled. “Thanks. That would be great.” Western saddles are heavy and hard to handle, so I was grateful for the help—until John showed up carrying a tiny pony saddle!
Kate giggled. “Uh, John,” she said.
I had spotted the twinkle in his dark eyes. “I just thought these fancy English-rider types might prefer a little saddle to a real one,” he explained, straight-faced.
Stevie burst out laughing. She’s usually the first one to appreciate any kind of joke. I smiled, too. I could already tell John was a nice guy. “Thanks,” I told him. “I think we can handle the real thing.”
Just then John’s father, Walter, bustled into the ring. He spotted the pony saddle immediately. “John!” he barked. “What’s going on?”
Kate answered for him. “We were just joking around, Walter,” she said calmly. “John’s helping my friends saddle up.”
“It doesn’t look like he’s being much help,” Walter said sternly.
I was a little surprised by his tone. I thought he was being kind of hard on his son. We really weren’t in a big hurry, and John had only been kidding around.
I shot John a sympathetic look. He wasn’t lookingat me, though—he was staring sheepishly at his father. He didn’t say another word as he helped his dad saddle up our horses and Kate’s Appaloosa, Spot.
Once I was in the deep, comfortable Western saddle, riding out of the corral with my friends, I quickly forgot about John and Walter Brightstar. I love riding in any form, and I especially love the kind of riding we do at Pine Hollow. But riding at the Bar None is special, too. We weren’t riding through fields and hilly woods. Instead, we were riding through the desert on dusty trails, passing tall cacti and scrubby bushes, with the imposing Rockies always in view in the distance. It was so open and wild and unique—it almost felt as though we’d been dropped into an old Western movie, with cowboys and stagecoaches and all the rest of it.
I was thinking about that when I realized Kate was talking about her secret. She’d already told us that she planned to adopt a beautiful white (well, actually a very light gray) wild stallion she’d seen running free nearby. The Bureau of Land Management runs a program that allows people to do that, and their next adoption was coming up in a week. Kate was really excited, though she was a little worried that someone else would get the horse she wanted before she did. He sounded like a special horse—Kate’s eyes positively glowed every time she talked about him.
“So when can we see your
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