Star of Wonder (3 page)

“What’s all this about sleeping in a barn?” asked a familiar voice from somewhere behind Willie.

“Dad!” Jody cried, as her father stuck his head over the stable door. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy to see me,” he chuckled. “How are you, Willie?”

“No use complainin’, Frank,” Willie replied. “Are you workin’ on a project?”

“I stopped by to help Mr. McMurray hang that new sliding door on the cow stable, and I thought I’d come over and see how the
little guy is doing. He doesn’t look too happy. And where’s Lady?”

“Oh, Dad, we had to wean him today. He’s
not
very happy, and he ran around and around and got all sweaty, and he kept calling to Lady, and she called back, and now he’s
settled down a little, but we don’t think we should leave him alone tonight because he’s going to need some company, so can
I stay here with Mary overnight? Please? Please?”

“Well, I’ll have to think about that,” Mr. Stafford replied. “Did Mary’s mother say it was all right?”

“Um, well, not exactly, not yet anyway, but I’m going to call her at work and ask,” Mary said quickly. “I don’t think she’ll
mind, as long as Finnegan’s here to protect us!”

Jody’s father looked from one girl to the other, trying to look stern. Since the day three years ago when Jody’s mother had
passed away, he had made all the decisions about her upbringing alone, and he knew that having Lady in her life was the key
that lifted Jody’s spirits the most and helped her through that dark time in both their lives. And when Jody met Mary, Mr.
Stafford was so thankful that he rarely refused Jody anything having to do with her “epic friend.” As he looked at the girls’
pleading faces, he knew this was one of those times.

“Well, I guess it can’t hurt. What do you think, Willie?”

Willie took off his cap and scratched the side of his head. “I reckon they can’t get into too much mischief. And the little
fella does need some company on his first night without his mama . . .”

Before Willie could finish his sentence, Jody was hugging her dad and Mary was jumping up and down. “Thanks ever so, Mr. Stafford,
and Willie, if we get into any mischief, you can make us clean out the calf stalls.”

“Now, that’s not a bad idea,” Willie replied, “but right now you two better go see about Lady. She’s havin’ a hard time too,
you know.”

“Oh, my gosh, I was so busy worrying about Star that I didn’t think too much about Lady,” Jody said regretfully.

“Let’s get some sugar cubes! That might take her mind off him,” Mary offered.

Before Willie could say another word, the girls were off to the big pasture with sugar cubes in hand. Rounding the corner
of the dairy barn, they moaned in dismay at the sight of poor Lady, who was galloping to the end of the fence line and back
again, stopping only to attempt a raspy whinny from her worn-out throat. Gypsy stood by the gate, helplessly watching her
pasture mate.

“Oh, Lady, here we are! We’ve got something for you!” Jody cried, running to open the gate.

“Your favorite—sugar cubes! Come on, girl.”

At the familiar sound of Jody’s voice, Lady stopped in her tracks at the far end of the fence line and flung up her head,
nostrils flaring. She attempted another whinny, then came straight at the girls with a high stepping trot, her tail flowing
behind her like one of the wild Arabians in Mary’s books. She halted just short of Jody’s outstretched hand and extended her
muzzle to sniff the sugar. But for once, Lady was not interested in the treat. Just as Star had done with the scoop of grain,
Lady knocked the cube from Jody’s hand and began pushing Jody toward the gate with her head.

“Look, she wants you to open the gate and let her out so she can get back to Star,” Mary giggled.

“Mare, it’s not funny. I feel so bad for her. What should we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. Willie said she’ll be better tomorrow. We just have to be patient,” Mary replied. “Gypsy! You
keep Lady company and try to make her feel better!” she continued. But Gypsy, not having a clue what was the matter with Lady,
instead dropped her head to graze.

“Come on, Jody. We’ll just have to let her be miserable. We can visit her later when it gets dark and make sure she’s okay.
We’d better get back to Star. And we have to get the stable ready for our sleepover!”

4

A Sleepless Night

BY THE TIME Mary and Jody finished making a bed of straw for themselves in the corner of Lucky Foot Stable, Star had settled
down in the stall he had shared with Lady and was listlessly nipping at the mound of hay the girls had put there to get his
mind off the taste of his mother’s milk. Finnegan was testing out the girls’ bed by rolling back and forth in it, and Colonel
Sanders was perched on his roost on the top board of the stall, ruffling his feathers and settling in for the night. His old
white head had just started to nod in sleep when Star crept silently over, and with one swift motion, stuck his muzzle under
the rooster’s tail feathers, and pushed. Poor Colonel Sanders squawked in surprise and was able to flap his wings just in
time to help him land on his feet instead of his head on the dirt floor of the stable.

“Star!” Jody admonished the mischievous colt. “What are you doing? Just because you’re missing Lady doesn’t give you an excuse
to forget your manners! Poor Colonel Sanders!” she continued, trying not to laugh at the sight of the flustered rooster, shaking
his head and flapping his wings in an effort to regain his dignity.

“Jody, you’ve got to stop reminding him of Lady. We have to promise to not even say her name again tonight, or ever, until
he forgets about her. Willie said it might take a whole month!”

“Willie also said that he’ll be able to smell Lady’s scent on our clothes, so it won’t matter if we say her name or not. Every
time we visit her and then see him, he’ll be reminded of her.

Don’t you remember when we came back to the paddock today? He had a fit!”

And it was true. At the sight of the girls rounding the corner of the barn that afternoon, Star had simply nickered quietly
at the gate, but when they came close enough for him to sniff, he threw up his head and started another round of whinnying
and galloping around the paddock. Lady wasted no time in answering, and the desperate scene from earlier in the day was repeated.

The girls had finally succeeded in quieting him down enough to lead him into the stall, where they petted and brushed him
and gave him sugar cubes to distract him from his misery.

Now it was dark and time for bed, and the girls brought their sleeping bags down from the loft and spread them on the straw.

“I’m glad we kept these here from Christmas Eve,” Mary said gratefully. “It would be really scratchy to sleep right on top
of the straw.”

“Mare, we said we were going to visit Lady before we went to sleep. Should we?”

“No, because if Star catches a whiff of her on us, he’ll just start up again. Look, he’s pretty much settled down after his
mischief with Colonel Sanders. Maybe he took his last frustrations out on him for the night.”

“I know what we should do! Tomorrow,” suggested Jody, “we’ll have to go home and get two sets of clothes—one for visiting
Lady and one for being with Star. And we’ll have to wash our hands really well every time we get finished with Lady. That
way he won’t be able to smell her.”

“Grand idea!” Mary agreed. “Now, we need to get to sleep so we can wake up early and take him for a walk.”

So the girls went one last time into Star’s stall and patted and stroked and cooed over him until they were sure he was feeling
quite comforted. Colonel Sanders had adjusted his roosting place to the top board of Gypsy’s stall, and after Mary removed
Finnegan from the middle of her sleeping bag to a position between the two bags, the girls were ready to sleep.

“Nice to have Finney here to protect us,” Mary yawned.

“I’m glad we don’t have to try and stay up until midnight tonight to hear the animals talk,” Jody said sleepily, remembering
their failed attempt on Christmas Eve. “Worrying about Star all day has worn me out.”

“Hmmmm” Mary murmured, closing her eyes and snuggling against Finnegan.

The girls were just drifting off to sleep when a small scratching sound coming from the corner of the stable caught Finnegan’s
attention. He raised his head and pricked up his ears, sniffing the air curiously. The sound stopped, then came again. Now
Finnegan, fully alert, whined and stood up, his paw landing squarely in the middle of Mary’s stomach.

“Finnegan!” Mary whispered drowsily, “what’s the matter with you? There are no foals being born tonight. Go back to sleep.”

But the inquisitive dog was already halfway across the stable in a half-crouch position, head low and sniffing the ground
as he stalked closer to the object of his curiosity.

Jody turned over in her sleeping bag and squinted into the gloom, which was only dimly illuminated by a sliver of cloud-covered
moonlight through the dusty window of the stable.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “What’s Finney doing?”

“I don’t know. He sees something. Listen . . . do you hear that?”

The scratching noise came again, louder this time. As Finnegan drew closer to the sound, the girls propped themselves up on
their elbows and strained their eyes into the shadows.

At that moment, the moonlight became brighter as the cloud passed over, and the girls saw the object of Finnegan’s attention—a
large brown rat chewing and scratching busily in an attempt to gain entry into a bag of horse feed resting in the corner.
The intruder was too absorbed in his task to notice the crafty dog stalking him. Before the girls could move, Finnegan pounced,
taking the astonished rat in his jaws. The rat squealed in terror, Mary and Jody screamed in unison and jumped from their
sleeping bags, and Star whinnied from his stall at the uproar.

Mary and Jody screamed and jumped up from their
sleeping bags.

Finnegan shook his prey furiously back and forth and squeezed with his teeth until the rat was silent and hung still and lifeless
in his jaws. Then, dropping the unfortunate animal at the girls’ feet, he sat down and wagged his tail proudly, waiting to
be praised for his rat-killing prowess.

“Finnegan!” cried Jody. “What did you do that for?”

“Don’t yell at him, Jody!” Mary said. “He thinks he’s just doing his job. And he is, really. He kept that rat out of the pony’s
grain, and we should thank him for it.”

But before the girls could give Finnegan a good pat on the head, a distant whinny came from the direction of the big pasture.
Star flung up his head, spun around in his stall, and answered back.

“Oh, no, not again,” Mary lamented. “I was hoping Star was settled down for the night! I bet when he heard the rat squeal,
it sounded like a whinny and that’s why he whinnied back. Then Lady must have heard him. Now they’ll go on forever, and we’ll
be up all night!”

But Star and Lady didn’t go on all night. They only called to each other a few more times. Star stomped his foot and shook
his head in frustration, but he quieted down after Jody gave him a handful of grain and scratched him on the special spot
at the top of his withers that Willie had shown her.

No, it wasn’t whinnying that kept the girls up all night—it was the hooting of the barn owls, the scurrying of the squirrels
on the stable roof, the curious screams of a fox in the distance, the intermittent moos of a lonely calf, and the occasional
menacing growls of Finnegan as he stared out the stable door at nothing in particular. Mary and Jody spent most of the night
sitting up in their sleeping bags with their arms linked, asking each other, “What was that?” every five minutes. By the time
they finally laid down in exhaustion, the sun was beginning to peek through the dusty windows of Lucky Foot Stable.

5

Lady’s Tears

SUNLIGHT WAS STREAMING into Lucky Foot Stable later that morning when Willie finished the milking and hobbled silently in
to check on Mary and Jody. Even Finnegan’s yip of greeting and Star’s nicker as Willie entered the stable door didn’t awaken
the sleeping girls, as exhausted as they were from their night of adventure. Willie stood for a moment, looking from the girl’s
still forms to the lifeless rat on the clay floor to Star pacing restlessly in his stall. Finnegan followed as Willie walked
over and spoke softly to the handsome colt.

“Well, I reckon it’s time to turn you out, fella, and it looks like these girls ain’t ready to get up and do it,” he said.
“Come on, then, out in the paddock you go, and no hollerin’ this mornin.’ I’ll get you some hay and a little grain, and you
best be quiet.”

So out in the paddock he went, and he was quiet, eating his grain with more enthusiasm than the day before and taking a long
drink of the water Willie offered him.

“You’ll be all right in a week or two,” Willie said kindly, scratching Star on the special spot high on his shoulder. “Now
finish the grain, and then that hay should keep you busy ’til the girls wake up. Come on, dog, time to round up the heifers.”

But the girls didn’t wake up until the sun had risen high enough to cast a beam of light directly onto Mary’s face, causing
her to try and brush away the heat with her hand. She turned drowsily on her side and slowly opened her eyes.

“Aaaagghh!” she screeched, as the first sight to greet her was the bloody dead rat, lying about a foot from her head.

“What is the matter with you?” Jody cried, rolling over and adding her own screech to Mary’s when she spied the rat. The girls
turned and looked at each other and burst out laughing at the same instant.

“We’ve got to get rid of that thing,” Jody said with a grimace. “Maybe we should get Willie.”

“Nonsense!” Mary replied bravely. “It’s dead, and it can’t bite. Out the window it goes!”

And she picked up the rat by the tail, carried it gingerly to the open window, and threw it out into the paddock.

“Mare! You can’t just throw it out there! We’ve got to bury it, or it will smell up the whole stable! And Star won’t want
to share his paddock with a dead rat. Will you, Staa . . .”

Jody jumped up from her sleeping bag before she could finish her sentence, and Mary followed her gaze to the empty stall where
Star was supposed to be.

“Star?” Mary said to the vacant space. “Star?” she repeated. “Where are you?”

“Oh, no, he must’ve broken out of his stall and ran out . . .”

“. . . the back of the stable and out to the pasture to be with Lady!” Mary finished Jody’s sentence as they both tore out
of the stable and ran toward the big pasture in pursuit of Star, who all the while was munching contentedly on his hay in
the paddock with the dead rat for company.

In one frantic glance as they rounded the corner of the big white dairy barn, the girls saw Willie opening the gate of the
pasture, Gypsy grazing under the weeping willow tree, a cow and her newborn calf in the middle of the pasture, and Lady standing
near the cow, stomping her foot and shaking her head up and down in agitation. But they didn’t see Star anywhere.

“Willie!” Mary yelled breathlessly as she and Jody squeezed through the gate after him. “Have you seen Star? Is he out here?
He’s not in the stable! He got out of his stall somehow and we can’t find him anywhere!”

Willie turned to Mary impatiently. “What the . . . got out of his stall?” he replied testily. “Can’t find him anywhere? Well,
you didn’t look too hard, did ya?” And he kept walking toward the newborn calf.

“Willie!” Jody insisted, following close behind. “What do you mean? He’s not in his stall, and he’s not out here . . . where
else could he be?”

“He’s right where he’s s’posed to be—out in the paddock, where he shoulda been first thing this mornin’ if you two lazybones
hadn’ta slept so late. Now, don’t bother me, I got to get your old plug Lady away from that calf—she’s actin’ crazy.”

Mary and Jody looked at each other in disbelief. “We never even looked in the paddock!” Mary cried, and then realized what
Willie had just said. “What do you mean, Willie? Who’s acting crazy?”

Willie turned again and almost tripped over the two girls. “Daggonit, I told ya not to bother me. Lady’s got some notion in
her noggin that the calf is hers. I guess since it’s black and white, it reminds her of Star. And her milk ain’t dried up
yet, so she’s just gone a little crazy. She keeps lickin’ the calf and tryin’ to keep the cow away. And the cow ain’t too
happy, either.”

And it was true—every time the poor cow took a step toward her calf, Lady pinned her ears, stomped her foot, and bared her
teeth until the cow backed away in bewilderment. Then Lady turned and tenderly licked the top of the calf’s head, nudging
it gently toward her udder as if to help it nurse. The calf stood between the two, bawling in confusion.

“Oh, poor Lady!” Jody cried. “She misses Star so much! She’s having a harder time than he is!”

“Well, I can’t help that,” Willie replied matter-of-factly. “That calf’s got to nurse, and it ain’t gonna be on Lady. Here,
Jody, put this lead rope on her. She might not put up a fuss if you lead her away. I’ll take care of the calf.”

Jody fastened the lead to Lady’s halter and turn her head toward the willow tree while Mary patted her on the rump for encouragement.
“C’mon, Lad, let’s go see Gypsy. She misses you!” Mary prodded.

Every time the poor cow took a step toward her calf,
Lady pinned her ears and stomped her feet.

But Lady would have none of the idea of leaving her newly adopted calf. She planted her feet and would not move, and when
Willie leaned down and wrapped his arms around the calf, picking it up in one quick motion to carry it to its mother, Lady
reacted with a loud, high-pitched whinny. An instant later, a distraught whinny came in reply from the other side of the barn.

“Oh, no!” the girls groaned in unison. But the whinny from Star had the desired effect of making Lady forget her new baby
and remember her old one, and she almost pulled the lead rope from Jody’s hand in her haste to get to the gate and whinny
back.

“Boy, she sure is fickle!” Mary laughed.

“She’s what?” Jody replied crankily as Lady dragged her toward the gate.

“That means, ‘not firm or steadfast.’ That word was on my vocabulary test last week!”

At the gate, Jody unhooked the lead rope. Lady broke away, trotting up and down the fence line and whinnying in distress as
the girls watched helplessly. Willie appeared just as she cantered back to the gate, stopped in her tracks, and with head
up and ears forward, gazed longingly in the direction of Star’s paddock.

“I got the cow and calf in the barnyard, and he’s nursin’ right good,” he said casually. “Too bad Lady’s takin’ all this so
hard.”

“Willie, look, I think she’s actually crying!” Jody said, pointing at the wet marks that had suddenly appeared in streaks
from Lady’s eyes almost to her muzzle. “Can animals cry?”

Willie took off his hat and scratched the side of his head. “Well, truth be told, it ain’t the first time I seen an animal
weep. They have emotions, just like us. They just don’t show’em as much until somethin’ really upsets ’em,” he said, looking
down at the two girls, who had tears running down their own cheeks. “Now, then, come on. She’ll be all right in a few days.
You just watch, when her milk dries up and you put Star back out here with her, she’ll ignore him like she never saw him before.
And look out if he tries to nurse on her—she’ll whack him good!” he chuckled. “Now, get back over there and check on him.
He’s prob’ly not feelin’ too good hisself.”

“And he’s with the rat!” Mary suddenly remembered, and the girls took off at a dead run, leaving Willie in the pasture shaking
his head.