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Authors: Jenny Oldfield
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that.”
“OK, so how about Smiley up at Timberline?” Matt was looking for answers that made sense.
Smiley Gilpin was a Forest Guard who lived at a station that stood at 10,000 feet. It was his job to look after the trails and plantations of ponderosa pines.
Lisa turned to Kirstie to see what she thought.
Staring into the flames of the fire in the huge grate, Kirstie shrugged. Right now the answers to the mystery didn’t much interest her. Instead, she was enjoying the warmth, the feeling of relief that the black stallion was going to be OK. “Give Smiley a call,” she suggested dreamily.
So Matt went off to the phone, leaving Lisa and Kirstie to relax. They’d arrived back at Half Moon Ranch after their night on Miners’ Ridge just after ten thirty, to find that Sandy Scott had already left with a group of beginners to ride Bear Hunt Trail. Charlie had taken the more advanced riders deep into the mountains, to Eden Lake. So the girls had dismounted in the empty corral, leaving Hadley to unsaddle Lucky and Cadillac. Then they’d come into the ranch house, to a barrage of questions from Matt.
“What do you think? Was it Smiley?” Lisa asked. She too was eager to solve the mystery of the unknown horse doctor.
Kirstie smiled and shrugged.
“I don’t get it.” Lisa put her empty mug down on the stone hearth and sat cross-legged on the brown-and-white patterned rug. “One minute you’d do anything for this horse: you sleep out, you have nightmares, you practically risk your neck. Now it’s like you don’t even care.”
Kirstie gazed at the fire as the burning logs shifted and sent up fresh sparks. “I’m just glad, that’s all.”
“But don’t you want to know who’s looking out for him?”
“Kind of.” She pictured a man, or maybe even a woman, who knew how to approach a wild horse and win his trust. Someone who cared enough to lead him behind the waterfall into the hidden clearing, where he would be safe. In a few days’ time the stallion would be well enough to make his way back into the canyon and up onto Miners’ Ridge, when he would no doubt rejoin the rest of his herd.
As Lisa gave an exasperated shrug, Matt came back. “Smiley says it ain’t him,” he reported. “The clearing behind the canyon is news to him.”
“Great,” Kirstie murmured absentmindedly.
Matt frowned. “What’s great about it?”
“Don’t ask!” Lisa warned. “She’s on a different planet. But how about Hadley? Maybe he could tell us more.”
“Let’s ask,” Matt agreed briskly. He strode across the room, grabbing his Stetson from the table.
Lisa sprang to her feet and dragged Kirstie after her. “Hadley’s been here forever,” she reminded them. “We need to find out what he reckons.”
The old ranch hand was storing Lucky’s saddle in the tack-room next to the corral when Matt, Lisa, and Kirstie went to join him. They walked up the short ramp into the dark, cluttered room lined with iron hooks to hang bridles from and wooden racks for the saddles.
“Sure, I know the place,” he replied slowly after Matt had described the hidden clearing. “Good grazing land.”
His answer, laid-back and matter-of-fact as usual, drew Kirstie into the conversation at last. “You knew? How come you never told us about it?”
“You never asked.” Hadley hung Lucky’s bridle alongside Cadillac’s on the row of hooks.
“How can we ask about something when we don’t even know it exists?” Kirstie pointed out. She’d known Hadley all her life, since the days when her grandparents had run Half Moon Ranch as a cattle ranch. He’d always been the same; easygoing, unruffled, and sometimes infuriating.
The wrangler shrugged. “Ain’t had no call to go there since the spring of ’94,” he told them. “That was the last roundup me and your grandpa rode out on. We heard a bunch of cattle had found their way in there. And your grandpa knew every blade of grass round here. We had no problem tracking
“OK, so how about Smiley up at Timberline?” Matt was looking for answers that made sense.
Smiley Gilpin was a Forest Guard who lived at a station that stood at 10,000 feet. It was his job to look after the trails and plantations of ponderosa pines.
Lisa turned to Kirstie to see what she thought.
Staring into the flames of the fire in the huge grate, Kirstie shrugged. Right now the answers to the mystery didn’t much interest her. Instead, she was enjoying the warmth, the feeling of relief that the black stallion was going to be OK. “Give Smiley a call,” she suggested dreamily.
So Matt went off to the phone, leaving Lisa and Kirstie to relax. They’d arrived back at Half Moon Ranch after their night on Miners’ Ridge just after ten thirty, to find that Sandy Scott had already left with a group of beginners to ride Bear Hunt Trail. Charlie had taken the more advanced riders deep into the mountains, to Eden Lake. So the girls had dismounted in the empty corral, leaving Hadley to unsaddle Lucky and Cadillac. Then they’d come into the ranch house, to a barrage of questions from Matt.
“What do you think? Was it Smiley?” Lisa asked. She too was eager to solve the mystery of the unknown horse doctor.
Kirstie smiled and shrugged.
“I don’t get it.” Lisa put her empty mug down on the stone hearth and sat cross-legged on the brown-and-white patterned rug. “One minute you’d do anything for this horse: you sleep out, you have nightmares, you practically risk your neck. Now it’s like you don’t even care.”
Kirstie gazed at the fire as the burning logs shifted and sent up fresh sparks. “I’m just glad, that’s all.”
“But don’t you want to know who’s looking out for him?”
“Kind of.” She pictured a man, or maybe even a woman, who knew how to approach a wild horse and win his trust. Someone who cared enough to lead him behind the waterfall into the hidden clearing, where he would be safe. In a few days’ time the stallion would be well enough to make his way back into the canyon and up onto Miners’ Ridge, when he would no doubt rejoin the rest of his herd.
As Lisa gave an exasperated shrug, Matt came back. “Smiley says it ain’t him,” he reported. “The clearing behind the canyon is news to him.”
“Great,” Kirstie murmured absentmindedly.
Matt frowned. “What’s great about it?”
“Don’t ask!” Lisa warned. “She’s on a different planet. But how about Hadley? Maybe he could tell us more.”
“Let’s ask,” Matt agreed briskly. He strode across the room, grabbing his Stetson from the table.
Lisa sprang to her feet and dragged Kirstie after her. “Hadley’s been here forever,” she reminded them. “We need to find out what he reckons.”
The old ranch hand was storing Lucky’s saddle in the tack-room next to the corral when Matt, Lisa, and Kirstie went to join him. They walked up the short ramp into the dark, cluttered room lined with iron hooks to hang bridles from and wooden racks for the saddles.
“Sure, I know the place,” he replied slowly after Matt had described the hidden clearing. “Good grazing land.”
His answer, laid-back and matter-of-fact as usual, drew Kirstie into the conversation at last. “You knew? How come you never told us about it?”
“You never asked.” Hadley hung Lucky’s bridle alongside Cadillac’s on the row of hooks.
“How can we ask about something when we don’t even know it exists?” Kirstie pointed out. She’d known Hadley all her life, since the days when her grandparents had run Half Moon Ranch as a cattle ranch. He’d always been the same; easygoing, unruffled, and sometimes infuriating.
The wrangler shrugged. “Ain’t had no call to go there since the spring of ’94,” he told them. “That was the last roundup me and your grandpa rode out on. We heard a bunch of cattle had found their way in there. And your grandpa knew every blade of grass round here. We had no problem tracking
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