Read Online Horse Whispers by Bonnie Bryant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bonnie Bryant
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shank. All at once she pulled free. Her eyes rolling wildly, she reared, then shied away.
“Grab her!” Frank called.
Stevie lunged for the lead shank but missed.
“No! Let me,” Carole ordered. Instinct took over. She walked slowly toward the mare. She breathed in and out, in and out, willing the mare to sense the calming rhythm. She whispered nonsense words. Everyone watched as the mare stopped and listened to Carole. Carole inched closer. She reached out and stroked the mare’s shoulder. Then she unclipped the lead line. She put it into her pocket. She knew she wouldn’t need it. “Come on, girl, we’re home now.” The mare’s head drooped slightly. She followed Carole into the barn.
Frank, John, and the four girls stared at the retreating pair. They couldn’t believe what they had seen. It was so strange, and so special, that nobody wanted to talk about it. So nobody did.
A LITTLE NERVOUSLY , Lisa removed a pie from the oven and brought it to the table. Stevie was right beside her with
her
pie. “Ta-
dah!
” Lisa said.
Everyone burst into applause. “You might want to wait until you’ve tried some before you clap,” Lisa remarked.
“I don’t need to. I can tell from the smell,” John said.
“And I can tell from the other two pies we ate waiting around for you guys,” Stevie joked.
“Do you want to do the honors, girls, or should I?” Frank inquired.
“Please, be my guest,” Lisa said with a grin. She handed him a knife and a pie server. Frank sliced and served with gusto, first one pie, then the other, until everyone had apiece. Lisa insisted on having a smaller piece than everyone else, but she did take one. They all dug in.
“Perfect,” said Christine. “Just perfect.”
At the look on John’s face, Lisa felt a rush of pride. When he asked for another sliver a few minutes later, she was even more thrilled. Now she knew why her mother liked it so much when people asked for seconds. It was a compliment, pure and simple. Lisa could hardly wait for the big dinner she and Stevie were going to make.
“Are you sure my wife didn’t make these?” Frank asked, a merry light in his eyes. “They taste suspiciously like hers. Suspiciously
good
,” he added.
Phyllis shook her head. “I didn’t touch them! All I did was demonstrate, right, girls?”
“Right, Mom,” Lisa joked. Out at the Bar None, it did feel as if Phyllis were their surrogate mother—except that she didn’t interfere the way their own moms did!
As they ate, Frank filled everyone in on the search and rescue mission. “It was Carole’s idea to look in the valley where the herd congregates,” he said. “That was very smart thinking.”
“How’d you think of that, Carole?” Stevie asked, impressed as always by Carole’s horsey intuition.
“I—I don’t know,” Carole said, flustered.
Too late Stevie realized that Carole didn’t want the spotlight on her. The attention seemed to make her uncomfortable. Quickly Stevie changed the subject back to the pies. “I guess now my only problem is going to be whatkind to make. There are so many great pies: blueberry, strawberry-rhubarb, lemon meringue …”
Phyllis smiled. “And now that you know how to make crust, you can also make quiches, potpies—”
Stevie gulped down her mouthful. “Wait a minute. Did you say
potpies
? Do you mean to tell me that I, Stevie Lake, am now capable of making, say, a
chicken potpie
?”
Phyllis nodded.
Stevie pretended to swoon. “I have no further ambitions in life!” she cried.
A S SOON AS she could, Carole sneaked out to the barn. Or not exactly
sneaked
. She slipped away quietly so that no one would follow her. Dinner had been pushed back to eight o’clock because everyone had eaten so much pie. Carole figured that gave her a few hours with the black mare.
Frank had instructed Carole to put the mare in a stall that night—one that had a double bolt. The mare hardly seemed to have moved at all. The bedding in
“Grab her!” Frank called.
Stevie lunged for the lead shank but missed.
“No! Let me,” Carole ordered. Instinct took over. She walked slowly toward the mare. She breathed in and out, in and out, willing the mare to sense the calming rhythm. She whispered nonsense words. Everyone watched as the mare stopped and listened to Carole. Carole inched closer. She reached out and stroked the mare’s shoulder. Then she unclipped the lead line. She put it into her pocket. She knew she wouldn’t need it. “Come on, girl, we’re home now.” The mare’s head drooped slightly. She followed Carole into the barn.
Frank, John, and the four girls stared at the retreating pair. They couldn’t believe what they had seen. It was so strange, and so special, that nobody wanted to talk about it. So nobody did.
A LITTLE NERVOUSLY , Lisa removed a pie from the oven and brought it to the table. Stevie was right beside her with
her
pie. “Ta-
dah!
” Lisa said.
Everyone burst into applause. “You might want to wait until you’ve tried some before you clap,” Lisa remarked.
“I don’t need to. I can tell from the smell,” John said.
“And I can tell from the other two pies we ate waiting around for you guys,” Stevie joked.
“Do you want to do the honors, girls, or should I?” Frank inquired.
“Please, be my guest,” Lisa said with a grin. She handed him a knife and a pie server. Frank sliced and served with gusto, first one pie, then the other, until everyone had apiece. Lisa insisted on having a smaller piece than everyone else, but she did take one. They all dug in.
“Perfect,” said Christine. “Just perfect.”
At the look on John’s face, Lisa felt a rush of pride. When he asked for another sliver a few minutes later, she was even more thrilled. Now she knew why her mother liked it so much when people asked for seconds. It was a compliment, pure and simple. Lisa could hardly wait for the big dinner she and Stevie were going to make.
“Are you sure my wife didn’t make these?” Frank asked, a merry light in his eyes. “They taste suspiciously like hers. Suspiciously
good
,” he added.
Phyllis shook her head. “I didn’t touch them! All I did was demonstrate, right, girls?”
“Right, Mom,” Lisa joked. Out at the Bar None, it did feel as if Phyllis were their surrogate mother—except that she didn’t interfere the way their own moms did!
As they ate, Frank filled everyone in on the search and rescue mission. “It was Carole’s idea to look in the valley where the herd congregates,” he said. “That was very smart thinking.”
“How’d you think of that, Carole?” Stevie asked, impressed as always by Carole’s horsey intuition.
“I—I don’t know,” Carole said, flustered.
Too late Stevie realized that Carole didn’t want the spotlight on her. The attention seemed to make her uncomfortable. Quickly Stevie changed the subject back to the pies. “I guess now my only problem is going to be whatkind to make. There are so many great pies: blueberry, strawberry-rhubarb, lemon meringue …”
Phyllis smiled. “And now that you know how to make crust, you can also make quiches, potpies—”
Stevie gulped down her mouthful. “Wait a minute. Did you say
potpies
? Do you mean to tell me that I, Stevie Lake, am now capable of making, say, a
chicken potpie
?”
Phyllis nodded.
Stevie pretended to swoon. “I have no further ambitions in life!” she cried.
A S SOON AS she could, Carole sneaked out to the barn. Or not exactly
sneaked
. She slipped away quietly so that no one would follow her. Dinner had been pushed back to eight o’clock because everyone had eaten so much pie. Carole figured that gave her a few hours with the black mare.
Frank had instructed Carole to put the mare in a stall that night—one that had a double bolt. The mare hardly seemed to have moved at all. The bedding in
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