Barq’s throatlatch. “He seems enthusiastic about riding, and he’s definitely got natural talent.”
“Talent without discipline,” Carole noted.
From out of nowhere Max’s mother, whom everyone called Mrs. Reg, appeared in the doorway. “Working the late shift, girls? I would have thought the three of you would have had your tack ready for the show by now.”
“Oh, it’s not ours, Mrs. Reg,” Lisa told her. “We’re helping out a friend.”
The elderly lady nodded. “Very commendable. Not everyone enjoys that kind of work.”
“But they still need to do it,” Carole mumbled.
“Did I ever tell you girls about Sprinkles?”
Stevie shared an
uh-oh
look with her friends. Mrs. Reg was known for her love of telling rambling stories. Her tales usually had hidden meaning, although most of the time the girls couldn’t figure out what it was until long after the telling. They had learned that the best thing to do was to simply listen politely.
Mrs. Reg leaned against the door frame, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “Sprinkles was a darling little pony. He was black with little white dots on his muzzle and rump. It made him look like he had been sprinkledwith powdered sugar. That’s how he got his name, of course.”
Stevie nodded. “He sounds cute.”
Mrs. Reg continued as though Stevie hadn’t spoken. “Sprinkles was an unusual creature, though. He had the smoothest walk of any horse I’ve ever known. It was almost more of a glide than a walk. He was lovely to watch and a real joy to ride. That made him terrifically useful for beginners to learn on; since there was no jarring, they had no fear of falling off.”
“A horse with that smooth of a gait would be very valuable for teaching,” Carole observed. “That’s an interesting story.”
Mrs. Reg looked reproachfully at Carole. “I’m not done yet, dear.”
Stevie struggled not to giggle. She had no idea where this story was going, but at least it was passing the time while they worked.
“As I said, his walk was a natural gift, a real talent, and we loved him for it. However, his trot was like sitting on a pogo stick. You know, one of those bouncy things that can shake the fillings out of your teeth?”
The girls nodded.
“His canter was worse. The poor little thing alwaysgave his best, but there was simply nothing to be done about it.”
Max’s mother fell quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in her thoughts.
“So I guess you sold him then, huh?” Stevie prompted.
Mrs. Reg looked surprised. “Oh no, dear, not at all.” She turned to leave. “Now don’t hang around here too late, girls. Tomorrow is a big day.” With that, she disappeared down the hallway.
The three girls tried to suppress their laughter until they were sure the older woman was out of earshot, not wanting to hurt her feelings.
“What did that have to do with us?” asked Lisa, snickering softly.
Stevie wiped a tear of choked laughter from her eye. “Where does she get this stuff?”
“And what does it mean?” Carole chuckled.
“Beats me,” Stevie admitted. “But Pine Hollow wouldn’t be the same without her.”
Lisa and Carole agreed.
The girls chatted quietly while they completed their task. By the time they were finished, Barq’s saddle and bridle practically gleamed in the dim light of the tack room.
Stevie stretched her cramped back. “I’m going to check on Belle before I head home.”
Lisa and Carole accompanied her.
“Any news on her progress?” Lisa asked as they walked to the mare’s stall.
“Judy was here yesterday. She says Belle’s healing and is well on the way to being completely sound.” Stevie had been overjoyed to hear the news. Even though Judy had assured her that Belle’s injury wasn’t that serious, somewhere in the back of her mind there had been a nagging doubt.
Belle came forward in her stall like a good hostess to greet her visitors. Stevie automatically reached out to stroke her.
“When will you be
“Talent without discipline,” Carole noted.
From out of nowhere Max’s mother, whom everyone called Mrs. Reg, appeared in the doorway. “Working the late shift, girls? I would have thought the three of you would have had your tack ready for the show by now.”
“Oh, it’s not ours, Mrs. Reg,” Lisa told her. “We’re helping out a friend.”
The elderly lady nodded. “Very commendable. Not everyone enjoys that kind of work.”
“But they still need to do it,” Carole mumbled.
“Did I ever tell you girls about Sprinkles?”
Stevie shared an
uh-oh
look with her friends. Mrs. Reg was known for her love of telling rambling stories. Her tales usually had hidden meaning, although most of the time the girls couldn’t figure out what it was until long after the telling. They had learned that the best thing to do was to simply listen politely.
Mrs. Reg leaned against the door frame, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “Sprinkles was a darling little pony. He was black with little white dots on his muzzle and rump. It made him look like he had been sprinkledwith powdered sugar. That’s how he got his name, of course.”
Stevie nodded. “He sounds cute.”
Mrs. Reg continued as though Stevie hadn’t spoken. “Sprinkles was an unusual creature, though. He had the smoothest walk of any horse I’ve ever known. It was almost more of a glide than a walk. He was lovely to watch and a real joy to ride. That made him terrifically useful for beginners to learn on; since there was no jarring, they had no fear of falling off.”
“A horse with that smooth of a gait would be very valuable for teaching,” Carole observed. “That’s an interesting story.”
Mrs. Reg looked reproachfully at Carole. “I’m not done yet, dear.”
Stevie struggled not to giggle. She had no idea where this story was going, but at least it was passing the time while they worked.
“As I said, his walk was a natural gift, a real talent, and we loved him for it. However, his trot was like sitting on a pogo stick. You know, one of those bouncy things that can shake the fillings out of your teeth?”
The girls nodded.
“His canter was worse. The poor little thing alwaysgave his best, but there was simply nothing to be done about it.”
Max’s mother fell quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in her thoughts.
“So I guess you sold him then, huh?” Stevie prompted.
Mrs. Reg looked surprised. “Oh no, dear, not at all.” She turned to leave. “Now don’t hang around here too late, girls. Tomorrow is a big day.” With that, she disappeared down the hallway.
The three girls tried to suppress their laughter until they were sure the older woman was out of earshot, not wanting to hurt her feelings.
“What did that have to do with us?” asked Lisa, snickering softly.
Stevie wiped a tear of choked laughter from her eye. “Where does she get this stuff?”
“And what does it mean?” Carole chuckled.
“Beats me,” Stevie admitted. “But Pine Hollow wouldn’t be the same without her.”
Lisa and Carole agreed.
The girls chatted quietly while they completed their task. By the time they were finished, Barq’s saddle and bridle practically gleamed in the dim light of the tack room.
Stevie stretched her cramped back. “I’m going to check on Belle before I head home.”
Lisa and Carole accompanied her.
“Any news on her progress?” Lisa asked as they walked to the mare’s stall.
“Judy was here yesterday. She says Belle’s healing and is well on the way to being completely sound.” Stevie had been overjoyed to hear the news. Even though Judy had assured her that Belle’s injury wasn’t that serious, somewhere in the back of her mind there had been a nagging doubt.
Belle came forward in her stall like a good hostess to greet her visitors. Stevie automatically reached out to stroke her.
“When will you be
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