mare raised her head warily.
She’s poised between captivity and the wild
, Carole thought,
and it’s up to me to help her choose captivity
.
“Here, girl,” John said from aboard Tex. “Come on, we just want to take you home.”
Turning his horse to face the mare directly, Frank clucked encouragingly through his teeth.
The mare paid them no heed. She stayed focused on Carole, who began to approach her at a snail’s pace. The closer Carole got, the more undecided the mare seemed. Carole spoke soothingly to her. She kept the halter behind her back so that it wouldn’t scare the mare. When Carole was close enough to touch her, the mare looked over her shoulder a final time. Then she blew through her nostrils and lowered her head. She almost seemed to be sighing. Carole encircled her neck with an arm and slipped the halter on. “Good girl,” she breathed. “What a good girl.” She took a lead shank from her pocket andclipped it to the halter. Now the mare was ready to be ponied home behind Stewball. Carole remounted, keeping the lead in her free hand.
Frank was clearly very pleased. “A happy ending,” he declared. “Nice work, Carole, John. Let’s head for home. I’ll bet my wife’s got something in the oven!”
Nobody talked much on the way back. They were all cold and tired. But it wasn’t just physical discomfort that was bothering Carole. It was strange, but now she almost wished she hadn’t said anything about the wild horses. She felt like a traitor to the black mare. Most horses escaped from their stalls because they were bored, or because they wanted something on the other side—because the grass was greener. But Carole was convinced that the mare had run away to be free.
But if I hadn’t said anything, we wouldn’t have found her, and she might not have been able to survive the winter out here
, she reasoned. She glanced back at the mare. The horse wasn’t making any fuss. She was walking and jogging behind Stewball as calm as could be.
When they neared the ranch, John broke the silence with a question to Frank. “How much is known about the mare’s history?”
“Not a heck of a lot,” Frank admitted. “I do know that the other four are more experienced. I took her as part of a package deal. The trader who sold them to me had only had her for a few weeks. Poor girl’s probably confused. She’ll settle in when she realizes that the Bar None isgoing to be her permanent home. This moving around is never good for a horse.”
If only it were just that!
Carole thought. She said a silent prayer that maybe, just maybe, the mare was glad they had caught her.
“I SEE THEM !” Stevie shrieked. She had been staring out the kitchen window for so long she could hardly believe it when the riders came into view.
“Yay,” said Christine.
“Are you sure?” Kate asked, running to join her.
“Look! There’s Stewball and Carole in front, and they’ve got the mare! Bet you anything that crazy pinto found her!” Stevie boasted. She was as proud of Stewball as if she’d owned and trained him herself.
The girls yanked on jackets and ran out to greet Carole, Frank, and John. “Don’t you want to come?” Lisa called to Phyllis.
“I can’t!” Phyllis replied. “Somebody’s got to watch the pies!”
The girls had put off baking two of the pies, hoping that the roundup posse would make it back in time to try some hot. Pie would be just the thing for a late-afternoon snack.
Lisa shook her head ruefully. “Boy, I sure don’t have a cook’s instincts. I would have forgotten all about them,” she said, sprinting for the door.
Outside the barn, the three were dismounting wearily.Stevie, Lisa, Christine, and Kate walked toward the black mare to welcome her home.
As they approached, the mare wheeled around. She laid her ears back and bared her teeth. Carole didn’t notice right away. She was loosening Stewball’s cinch with her free hand. The mare strained at the end of her lead
She’s poised between captivity and the wild
, Carole thought,
and it’s up to me to help her choose captivity
.
“Here, girl,” John said from aboard Tex. “Come on, we just want to take you home.”
Turning his horse to face the mare directly, Frank clucked encouragingly through his teeth.
The mare paid them no heed. She stayed focused on Carole, who began to approach her at a snail’s pace. The closer Carole got, the more undecided the mare seemed. Carole spoke soothingly to her. She kept the halter behind her back so that it wouldn’t scare the mare. When Carole was close enough to touch her, the mare looked over her shoulder a final time. Then she blew through her nostrils and lowered her head. She almost seemed to be sighing. Carole encircled her neck with an arm and slipped the halter on. “Good girl,” she breathed. “What a good girl.” She took a lead shank from her pocket andclipped it to the halter. Now the mare was ready to be ponied home behind Stewball. Carole remounted, keeping the lead in her free hand.
Frank was clearly very pleased. “A happy ending,” he declared. “Nice work, Carole, John. Let’s head for home. I’ll bet my wife’s got something in the oven!”
Nobody talked much on the way back. They were all cold and tired. But it wasn’t just physical discomfort that was bothering Carole. It was strange, but now she almost wished she hadn’t said anything about the wild horses. She felt like a traitor to the black mare. Most horses escaped from their stalls because they were bored, or because they wanted something on the other side—because the grass was greener. But Carole was convinced that the mare had run away to be free.
But if I hadn’t said anything, we wouldn’t have found her, and she might not have been able to survive the winter out here
, she reasoned. She glanced back at the mare. The horse wasn’t making any fuss. She was walking and jogging behind Stewball as calm as could be.
When they neared the ranch, John broke the silence with a question to Frank. “How much is known about the mare’s history?”
“Not a heck of a lot,” Frank admitted. “I do know that the other four are more experienced. I took her as part of a package deal. The trader who sold them to me had only had her for a few weeks. Poor girl’s probably confused. She’ll settle in when she realizes that the Bar None isgoing to be her permanent home. This moving around is never good for a horse.”
If only it were just that!
Carole thought. She said a silent prayer that maybe, just maybe, the mare was glad they had caught her.
“I SEE THEM !” Stevie shrieked. She had been staring out the kitchen window for so long she could hardly believe it when the riders came into view.
“Yay,” said Christine.
“Are you sure?” Kate asked, running to join her.
“Look! There’s Stewball and Carole in front, and they’ve got the mare! Bet you anything that crazy pinto found her!” Stevie boasted. She was as proud of Stewball as if she’d owned and trained him herself.
The girls yanked on jackets and ran out to greet Carole, Frank, and John. “Don’t you want to come?” Lisa called to Phyllis.
“I can’t!” Phyllis replied. “Somebody’s got to watch the pies!”
The girls had put off baking two of the pies, hoping that the roundup posse would make it back in time to try some hot. Pie would be just the thing for a late-afternoon snack.
Lisa shook her head ruefully. “Boy, I sure don’t have a cook’s instincts. I would have forgotten all about them,” she said, sprinting for the door.
Outside the barn, the three were dismounting wearily.Stevie, Lisa, Christine, and Kate walked toward the black mare to welcome her home.
As they approached, the mare wheeled around. She laid her ears back and bared her teeth. Carole didn’t notice right away. She was loosening Stewball’s cinch with her free hand. The mare strained at the end of her lead
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