“That’s right, Jessie,” Danny said encouragingly the next morning. “Use short strokes with the dandy brush, and don’t be afraid to press hard.” Jessie and Violet were helping Danny groom a horse named Oliver. He was a large Appaloosa with colorful markings and striped hooves. They were working in the north pasture, and Jessie suddenly noticed Daisy watching from a few yards away. “Are you sure you don’t want to help?” Jessie offered. “It’s a lot of fun.”
Daisy shook her head. “He might kick me.”
“Oliver’s a gentle horse,” Jessie told her. She paused, resting her arm on Oliver’s gleaming flank. “I have an idea, Daisy. How would you like to comb his mane when we’re finished? You can even braid it if you like.”
Daisy’s eyes lit up. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “If you promise to hold him still.”
They had been working for over half an hour when Danny realized he had forgotten Oliver’s hoof pick. “I’ll run back and get it,” Violet said.
The stable was cool and dark as Violet hurried past rows of empty stalls to the tack room. All the horses were supposed to be outside grazing, and she was surprised to hear a soft whinnying sound inside. Puzzled, she retraced her steps and found that one stall was closed and padlocked. She put her ear to the sturdy wooden panel and heard more whinnying. Why was one horse left all alone? And why was there a padlock on the door? She quickly grabbed the hoof pick and headed back to the pasture. She was very curious.
When Violet returned to the pasture, she found Danny and Jessie using a soft brush to clean Oliver’s legs. “The area below the knees and hock is very tender,” Danny was explaining. “Always use a brush with soft bristles or a towel.”
Violet was happy to see that Daisy had edged a little closer and was watching them intently. She handed Danny the hoof pick and said, “There’s one horse left all by himself in the barn. Do you have any idea why?”
Danny shrugged. “Maybe he just felt like staying in his stall today,” he said vaguely.
“On a nice sunny morning?” Jessie asked in surprise. “But you said that horses love to be out in the field!”
Danny ducked his head, working on Oliver’s leg. “I didn’t mean—” he began, and then he stopped. “It could be that he’s sick. Or something.”
“Shouldn’t someone check on him?” Violet asked.
“I think Dad will,” Danny told her.
“But you can’t even see him,” Violet said. “The stall is closed and padlocked.”
“I’m sure he’s okay,” Danny said. “I think we should get back to work now.” He looked very uncomfortable, and the girls knew that he wanted to change the subject.
“Okay,” Violet said. “What should we do next?”
“Oliver’s feet, but I’ll give you a tip first. Never just grab a horse’s hoof and try to pick it up.” He slid his hand slowly down Oliver’s shoulder to his fetlock. “Run your hand over him first, like this. This gives him a little warning, and he’ll know what to expect.”
Violet noticed that Oliver seemed to get the message because he shifted his weight to his other three legs. Danny picked up Oliver’s hoof and motioned to Violet. “Use the hoof pick, but be really gentle.”
“I’ll do my best,” Violet said. Oliver didn’t seem to mind at all, and she cleaned away clumps of mud and several large pebbles that were lodged in his hoof.
When they had finished, Jessie turned to Daisy. “He won’t look really pretty until you comb his mane,” she said.
Daisy hesitated. “How will I reach it?”
“You could sit on his back,” Danny offered.
“No!” Daisy backed away.
“Wait, I have a better idea.” Jessie reached out her hand. “I’ll sit on Oliver and hold you in my lap. You’ll be the one who combs him. Okay?”
Danny squatted down. “Just step on my shoulder, Jessie, and swing yourself up on his back. Then I’ll hand Daisy up to you.”
A moment later, Jessie found herself high above the ground on Oliver’s back. Oliver stood very still, and Jessie patted him on the neck. When Danny handed Daisy to her, she found that the little girl was trembling.
“Don’t be scared, Daisy. Danny has Oliver tied good and tight. He’s not going anywhere.”
Daisy relaxed then and began combing Oliver’s thick, dark mane. She giggled and looked down at Violet. “You know something? This is fun!”
At lunchtime, Violet told Henry about the horse in the padlocked stall.
“It just doesn’t make sense.” They were eating chicken-salad sandwiches under the shade of an oak tree near the main house. “I asked Danny about it, but he didn’t have much to say.” She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “What do you think?”
“It’s true, the horse might be sick,” Henry suggested. “Or maybe he’s very difficult to handle.”
Violet forgot about the horse when Benny and Jessie plopped down on the grass next to them, talking excitedly.
“I rode on the tractor this morning,” Benny said proudly. “Three times.” He held up three fingers. “First we mowed the hay, just like it was a lawn. Then we raked it, and then we . . . ” He stopped and frowned. “I forgot what came next.”
Sarah hunkered down next to them. “We baled it, Benny. Remember? Now the hay is in nice square bundles.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said happily. “There must be enough hay for a million horses.”
“Not the way our horses eat,” Sarah said. “Oliver eats twelve pounds a day.”
“Twelve pounds?” Benny sputtered.
“Sometimes even more. Don’t forget, he weighs almost a thousand pounds. That’s half a ton.”
“Wow.” Benny was awed.
Then Jessie told about feeding a baby lamb with a bottle. Violet’s mind went back to the horse in the locked stall. Somehow, she had to find out which horse was in there—and why.
After dinner and a Monopoly game at the main house that evening, Violet decided to walk by the stables on the way to the bunk-house.
“You’re not going to see anything in the dark,” Henry told her. “Everything’s closed up by now.”
“I just want to take a quick look,” Violet insisted. “You can go on, if you want.”
When they reached the stables, they spotted a single light on, way in the back.
“That’s where the stall is,” Violet said quickly. “The one with the padlock on it.” She turned to Henry. “I’m going to go in there.” She carefully slid open the stable doors and stepped inside. Henry, Jessie, and Benny were right behind her. They walked softly over a thick carpeting of hay.
Suddenly Mrs. Morgan appeared from the depths of the barn.
“What are you kids doing in here?” she demanded.
“We’re just—we came to see the horses,” Violet stammered. She peered over Mrs. Morgan’s shoulder and noticed that the door to the last stall was open and light was streaming onto the stable floor. There was a scuffling noise, and suddenly Mr. Morgan emerged from the stall, leading a beautiful, chestnut-colored horse. The horse was tall and slender, and it pranced gracefully with its head held high.
Mr. Morgan stopped dead in his tracks and glanced nervously at his wife. “What are they doing here?”
“They came to take a look at the horses,” she said. Her words came out in a rush, and Violet knew that something was wrong.
“Well, this isn’t a good time,” Mr. Morgan said slowly. “You’d best come back in the daytime, when they’re all out in the pasture.”
“But this horse never goes to the pasture,” Violet said. She was surprised that she had the courage to speak up because she was usually very shy. “He never goes anywhere, does he? You keep him locked in the stall.
Mr. and Mrs. Morgan exchanged a long look. “That’s because he’s very high-strung,” Mr. Morgan said slowly. “He gets nervous when he’s around other horses, so we keep him by himself as much as possible.”
“What’s his name?” Henry asked.
“His name?” Mrs. Morgan repeated. She glanced at the horse, who was tossing his mane from side to side. He had gentle brown eyes and a white star on his forehead. “Star. His name is Star.”
“Wow! I’d sure like to ride him!” Benny said.
“I’m afraid this horse isn’t for riding, son,” Mr. Morgan said gently. “I’ll make sure Danny gives you a ride on Oliver tomorrow.” He glanced at his wife. “And now I think you had all better get on back to the bunk-house. Before you know it, the sun will be up and it’ll be time for chores.”
An hour later, back at the bunkhouse, Violet was too restless to sleep. She kept thinking about Star. She poked Jessie, who was sleeping in the top bunk.
“Do you think the Morgans were telling the truth about that horse?” she whispered.
Jessie yawned. “I don’t know. Why would they lie to us?” She propped her chin in her hand and stared down at her sister.
“I don’t know,” Violet said thoughtfully. “But something just doesn’t make sense. Star didn’t seem high-strung at all, and it seems mean to keep him cooped up like that.”
Jessie shrugged. “The Morgans would never be mean to an animal.”
“That’s true,” Violet admitted. She had seen how much they liked the farm animals and how carefully they tended them.
“So if they’re keeping him by himself, it must be for his own good.” Jessie pulled the covers over her head. “Now go to sleep.” |