Read Online Golden Filly Collection One by Lauraine Snelling - Free Book Online Page A

wasn’t any more to his liking. Finally, she pulled him down to a walk. “Listen, horse. Just settle down.” She rubbed his neck, high on the crest and under his sweaty mane. “You know the routine as well as I do, so behave yourself. There’ll be no racing today.” Spitfire snorted as if in answer. “I don’t care what you think. Those are Dad’s orders. Now let’s try this again. Slow gallop, you hear me?” The horse’s ears twitched back and forth, both listening to her and checking out everything in the area.
    Trish walked a final circuit, took him back to the barn, and repeated the process with Firefly. Temperament-wise, she was the exact opposite of her half-brother. Trish could relax more around her; the dark bay filly was always eager to please her rider instead of fighting her way around the track.
    Trish slid off the sweaty filly at the end of the workout, threw the reins at David, and dashed up to the house. “Don’t forget the shot for the sick filly.” She back-pedaled as she shouted instructions to David.
    “Fifteen cc’s and watch her.” It was 7:10.
    No matter how she hurried, she couldn’t make up that ten minutes.
    The frown on her mother’s face as they backed the car out of the garage at 7:55 clouded the ten-minute drive to Prairie High.
    “I’m not writing an excuse.” Marge checked both ways before they pulled out onto the road.
    “Fine,” Trish mumbled around her mouthful of peanut butter toast.
    Don’t bother, she thought. If I have to stay after to make up these tardy times, I’ll just have to stay after. They’re lucky I’m making it to school at all.
    “You know your main responsibility is school and your schoolwork, Tricia,” her mother reminded her.
    Trish cringed. Her schoolwork. She’d really have to make better use of study hall than she had. Maybe David would have time tonight to help her with her chemistry. All the rest she could manage. She’d write that essay during history and—“How far behind are you?” Marge’s jaw had that iron look.
    Trish started to say, “I’m fine,” but a look at her mother’s face made her mumble, “Not too bad.”
    “What’s not too bad?”
    “I’ll catch up today,” Trish stated flatly. “Don’t worry about my schoolwork.”
    “Trish…” Marge laid her hand on her daughter’s knee.
    “Don’t worry.” Trish jumped from the car as soon as it stopped at the curb. She leaned back in to say, “Tell Dad hi for me,” and loped away, her books caught under one arm.
    The stop at the office made Trish more uncomfortable.
    “Where’s your excuse slip?” The receptionist glanced up at the clock.
    “You’re seven minutes late.”
    “I know.” Trish chewed her lip, the desire to tell just a tiny fib uppermost in her mind. She shrugged. “I took too long at the barn and Mom refused to write me an excuse. I’d promised her I wouldn’t be late again.”
    “You know this goes on your record?” The woman signed the small pink slip and handed it over the counter.
    “I know. Thanks.” Trish felt like tearing up the piece of paper but knew she wouldn’t get into class without it. She slammed her fist against her locker when it wouldn’t open on the first attempt. Boy, she thought as she dashed across the quad, this day is really gonna be a great one.
    Trish used every spare minute, and by lunch time she had even made up one chemistry assignment. Her essay was ready to recopy. She debated skipping, lunch but her stomach reminded her that breakfast had been less than filling.
    “How’s your dad?” Rhonda asked as they joined the lunch line.
    “He sounded pretty good on the phone last night.” Trish glanced around the noisy room. “Have you seen Doug?”
    “You going to the after-game party with him?”
    “No. I won’t be going at all.”
    “Won’t be going where?” Brad joined their slow shuffle to the counter.
    “To the party,” Rhonda answered for her friend. “Tee, how can we help? I know