a dramatic instinct that she’ll help us out.”
Lisa laughingly agreed. They’d both said many times that Stevie had found a horse just like her.
Carole took the cup of coffee from Lisa and sniffed it. “Ooh, it smells awful strong!” She made a face. “That’s wonderful! Where’d you get it?”
“My parents make a pot every morning. I just poured this cup once they went back upstairs to get dressed. They would have wondered if they’d seen me take some, since they know I’d never drink the stuff.”
Carole nodded. Her father drank coffee, too, but since he never wanted more than a cup or two at once, he rarely made it at home.
“Is Belle finished with her breakfast yet?” Lisa asked, peering into the stall. The mare was licking the corners of her grain bucket, but all her grain seemed to be gone.
“Looks like she has,” Carole answered. She set the coffee out of the way on a bench and took Belle out of her stall. While she gave Belle a quick grooming and picked the dirt out of her hooves, Lisa cleaned the stall.
“That’s sort of a waste of time, considering,” Lisa said as Carole picked up a body brush and started on Belle’s coat.
“I know,” Carole said, “but I can’t help it. Besides, at least this way we’ve checked her over well.” Lisa nodded. Carole brushed Belle’s body and started on her legs. Grooming was good for a horse’s coat and circulation, but it was also a great way to make sure the horse didn’t have any hidden cuts, bumps, or sores. Belle was fine,but Carole knew there was always a small chance that the horse had injured herself in her stall overnight. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Chad that, with horses, serious problems were sometimes caused by minor things.
However, there was no evidence that Belle was pining for Stevie, injured, or in any other way less than perfectly fine. Carole put the thoroughly clean horse back into her thoroughly clean stall. Lisa poured a cupful of grain into Belle’s empty bucket, and Carole poured the cold coffee over it. She mixed it in well.
Belle sniffed the grain curiously, then turned to the flake of hay on the floor by the door and began to eat that.
Carole gave a sigh of relief. “I was afraid she’d develop a taste for coffee overnight!” she joked.
“Nope,” Lisa said in a satisfied voice. “She still hates it.”
“Okay,” Carole said. “Now for step two. Give me that bag of dirt, and you go talk to Chad.”
L ISA CHECKED HER WATCH as she approached Stevie’s house. It was early enough that Chad probably hadn’t left yet, but Stevie’s parents certainly had. Lisa rang the doorbell.
“Hey, Lisa!” Davey, the college student watching theyoung Lakes that summer, answered. Lisa noted with interest that he was starting to grow a tiny mustache. She liked Davey, but his mustache looked silly. He gave her an apologetic grin. “I know who you’re here to see,” he said. “Trust me, I completely sympathize, but I’m under strict orders not to let her have any visitors. I can give Stevie a message if you want.”
“Thanks,” Lisa said. “I’d like it if you’d tell her that Carole and I say hi. But I’m really here to see Chad.”
Davey arched his eyebrows in surprise but opened the door wider and nodded. Lisa came in and sat down. In a few minutes Chad sauntered into the room, still wearing his soccer jersey. Lisa wondered if he ever wore any other clothes. She hoped he at least changed his socks sometimes.
She swallowed her disdain and put on her best expression of heartfelt concern. “Oh, Chad!” she said, jumping up and squeezing his hand. “I’m so glad you’re home! We really need you!”
Chad yanked his hand back and looked wary. “Why?”
Lisa clasped her hands in front of her and let her dramatic silence speak for itself.
“It’s Stevie’s horse, isn’t it?” Chad asked, his eyes widening. “She’s still sick.”
“I’m afraid so,” Lisa said with an anguished
Lisa laughingly agreed. They’d both said many times that Stevie had found a horse just like her.
Carole took the cup of coffee from Lisa and sniffed it. “Ooh, it smells awful strong!” She made a face. “That’s wonderful! Where’d you get it?”
“My parents make a pot every morning. I just poured this cup once they went back upstairs to get dressed. They would have wondered if they’d seen me take some, since they know I’d never drink the stuff.”
Carole nodded. Her father drank coffee, too, but since he never wanted more than a cup or two at once, he rarely made it at home.
“Is Belle finished with her breakfast yet?” Lisa asked, peering into the stall. The mare was licking the corners of her grain bucket, but all her grain seemed to be gone.
“Looks like she has,” Carole answered. She set the coffee out of the way on a bench and took Belle out of her stall. While she gave Belle a quick grooming and picked the dirt out of her hooves, Lisa cleaned the stall.
“That’s sort of a waste of time, considering,” Lisa said as Carole picked up a body brush and started on Belle’s coat.
“I know,” Carole said, “but I can’t help it. Besides, at least this way we’ve checked her over well.” Lisa nodded. Carole brushed Belle’s body and started on her legs. Grooming was good for a horse’s coat and circulation, but it was also a great way to make sure the horse didn’t have any hidden cuts, bumps, or sores. Belle was fine,but Carole knew there was always a small chance that the horse had injured herself in her stall overnight. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Chad that, with horses, serious problems were sometimes caused by minor things.
However, there was no evidence that Belle was pining for Stevie, injured, or in any other way less than perfectly fine. Carole put the thoroughly clean horse back into her thoroughly clean stall. Lisa poured a cupful of grain into Belle’s empty bucket, and Carole poured the cold coffee over it. She mixed it in well.
Belle sniffed the grain curiously, then turned to the flake of hay on the floor by the door and began to eat that.
Carole gave a sigh of relief. “I was afraid she’d develop a taste for coffee overnight!” she joked.
“Nope,” Lisa said in a satisfied voice. “She still hates it.”
“Okay,” Carole said. “Now for step two. Give me that bag of dirt, and you go talk to Chad.”
L ISA CHECKED HER WATCH as she approached Stevie’s house. It was early enough that Chad probably hadn’t left yet, but Stevie’s parents certainly had. Lisa rang the doorbell.
“Hey, Lisa!” Davey, the college student watching theyoung Lakes that summer, answered. Lisa noted with interest that he was starting to grow a tiny mustache. She liked Davey, but his mustache looked silly. He gave her an apologetic grin. “I know who you’re here to see,” he said. “Trust me, I completely sympathize, but I’m under strict orders not to let her have any visitors. I can give Stevie a message if you want.”
“Thanks,” Lisa said. “I’d like it if you’d tell her that Carole and I say hi. But I’m really here to see Chad.”
Davey arched his eyebrows in surprise but opened the door wider and nodded. Lisa came in and sat down. In a few minutes Chad sauntered into the room, still wearing his soccer jersey. Lisa wondered if he ever wore any other clothes. She hoped he at least changed his socks sometimes.
She swallowed her disdain and put on her best expression of heartfelt concern. “Oh, Chad!” she said, jumping up and squeezing his hand. “I’m so glad you’re home! We really need you!”
Chad yanked his hand back and looked wary. “Why?”
Lisa clasped her hands in front of her and let her dramatic silence speak for itself.
“It’s Stevie’s horse, isn’t it?” Chad asked, his eyes widening. “She’s still sick.”
“I’m afraid so,” Lisa said with an anguished
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