Read Online Emma and the Cutting Horse by Martha Deeringer - Free Book Online

about.”
    “Sometimes girls like Candi lose interest if
you can pretend not to care what they’re saying about you,” Emma’s
mom said. “If you want me to help, you know I will; but I agree
that it might just make things worse if I called her mother or went
up to school to discuss it with the principal. And I’m absolutely
sure that if we talk to your father about this, he’ll be at school
that very day defending you against the injustices of the
world.”
    “Katie thought I should get Dad to drag Candi
Haynes off to jail,” Emma said, “but that would probably stir up a
whole other set of problems.”
    “You’re right about that,” Emma’s mom said.
“I hope you’ll tell me if anything else happens though. If that’s
the case, we’ll need to fill your father in. It stinks to be teased
at school, and girls like Candi shouldn’t be allowed to get away
with it.”
    “Yeah,” Emma agreed.
    “What did you say the girl’s last name
is?”
    “Haynes,” Emma said.
    “Does she have a younger sister?”
    “I don’t know. Why?”
    “Well...it might be a coincidence, but the
girl you found in the woods, Darla—I think her last name is
Haynes.”
    “Awww. They can’t be sisters,” Emma said. “No
way could someone as mean as Candi be related to that sweet little
girl.”
    * * *
    Climbing down the steps of the bus the next
afternoon Emma could see that Kyle was already down at the horse
pens filling water troughs. She dumped her backpack on the kitchen
table and ran down to tell him the news about Miss Dellfene.
    “Hi, Francine,” he called out cheerfully when
he heard her coming. “Is there a fire or something? I’ve never seen
you run so fast.”
    Listen, Stinker,” Emma gasped. “I have to
tell you a story about the society horse!”
    When she had finished the story, Kyle dropped
the hose, put his arms around Emma’s waist, and whirled her
around
    “That’s fantastic, Josephine,” he hooted.
“Just think, I ran water in the celebrity’s trough! I’ll bet your
dad is almost as excited as you are!”
    “You got that right!” Emma answered. “Of
course, he’s worried about how much it will cost. His favorite
pastime is worrying about money.”
    When the weekend finally arrived there was a
hint of spring in the air and tiny blades of new grass were pushing
up through the brown stubble in the pastures. Emma’s mom was in the
garden wrestling with the roto-tiller, and Emma strolled
reluctantly out to see if her mom had any chores for her to do.
    “Is there something you want me to do to
help?” she yelled above the hiccupping roar of the roto-tiller.
    Her mom let go of the clutch so the tines
stopped turning and throttled it down to an idle.
    “Not right now, honey,” she said. “I need to
get it all tilled up first and throw out some fertilizer, but this
afternoon I’m going to the nursery and get tomato plants and some
pretty, spring flowers, and I’d like you to come along to help me
pick them out.”
    “Okay,” Emma answered. “Is it alright if I
ride Ditto down to the front pasture while you’re finishing?”
    “Sure,” her mom said. “If you promise to be
careful, and don’t stay too long!”
    Emma had always loved riding in the pastures
by herself. From the top of a horse she saw things she didn’t see
from the window of her dad’s pickup. Once, as she sat quietly under
a shade tree on Ditto, a red fox had come within a few feet of
them, its bottlebrush tail matted with burrs. Wild animals were
used to seeing horses in the pasture. Several broodmares lived at
the ranch and raised colts every year. When the colts were two
years old, Emma’s father began training them, and moved them to the
pens below the house. Camaro was the only two-year old this year,
but there were two yearlings in the pasture, three older mares, and
two new colts were expected to arrive in March. Thoroughbred
breeders wanted their colts to arrive soon after January 1st, the
official birthday of