True Riders (4 page)

“Yeah! Trot, trot!” Ethan exclaimed, instantly excited again.

Brooke frowned. She wasn't sure trotting was a good idea. The twins were pretty wobbly up there, and they weren't even wearing helmets. Still, she didn't want to argue with Adam when he was being so nice.

“Okay, I guess,” she said. “But you lead and I'll jog beside him, okay?”

“Sure.” They traded places, and Adam clucked to Foxy. “Come on, girl—let's go!”

The mare took a few quick walk steps, then surged into a trot. “Easy,” Brooke called, grabbing her little brother's knee to stop him from toppling off the far side of the saddle.

Ethan giggled, thumping both legs on the mare's sides again and almost kicking Brooke in the face in the process. “Faster, faster!” he yelled.

“Stop kicking,” Brooke ordered. “She's going fast enough.”

They trotted halfway to the opposite fence line and back. After that, Emma wanted a turn at the faster gait. She was a little more nervous than her brother, clutching the horn tightly as the pony started trotting. But after a few seconds she was giggling.

“I'm galloping!” she squealed, letting go of the horn and waving her hands over her head like someone on a roller coaster. “We're running like the wind!”

Brooke smiled distractedly, her mind flashing to Kiersten's book report on
King of the Wind
. Then she tuned back in as she saw Emma tipping backward.

“Sit up,” she said, reaching up to steady her sister as Adam glanced back and brought Foxy to a walk again.

“Everything okay back there?” he asked.

“Go again!” Emma insisted. “I want to do it again.”

Brooke wanted to tell Adam to ignore her, that it was time for the pony rides to be over. But once again she held her tongue. As long as Brooke stayed right beside her, Emma would be fine, and another brief trot certainly wouldn't hurt Foxy any. Besides, this was the most time she and Adam had spent together in ages—and if the pony rides ended, he might decide to go home.

“Okay,” Brooke said, taking a tighter grip on her sister's leg. “One more time . . .”

The pony rides continued until Brooke's stepfather arrived home twenty minutes later. As soon as they saw him, the twins ran over, shouting over each other in their eagerness to tell him all about their adventures. The three of them headed inside, along with Brooke's mother, leaving Brooke and Adam with Foxy.

“That was fun,” Adam said with a smile. “I forgot what a riot the twins can be.”

“Yeah, well, you don't have to live with them,” Brooke muttered, stepping over to loosen Foxy's cinch.

Adam chuckled. “You going to ride now?”

“Nah, it's getting dark.” Brooke had warmed up a little while jogging alongside the pony, but now her teeth were starting to chatter again.

Adam squinted up at the sky, which was going shades of purple and orange as the sun set. “Yeah, guess so. Here, I'll get the saddle.”

With his help Brooke got Foxy untacked and settled into the pony part of the barn with her dinner. By the time they'd finished, it was almost fully dark. Leaving the pony with her face buried in her feed bucket, the two of them wandered outside and leaned on the gate, watching the shadowy shapes of the draft horses on the far side of the field.

“Thanks for helping out today.” Brooke shot him a look. She wanted to say something about the basketball team but didn't quite dare; Adam could be funny about stuff like that sometimes. “Actually, I'm glad you came by,” she said instead. “I wanted to talk to you about something. . . .”

She quickly explained about her plans to start jumping more, and asked if he'd help her build some jumps. He nodded immediately.

“Sounds good,” he said. “I went mountain biking at this place where they also do horse stuff, and I saw a bunch of really interesting jumps. There was one shaped like a triangle, and a boxy one with sticks glued to it. Maybe we could make some cool stuff like that.”

“Those might have been cross-country jumps,” Brooke guessed. “That's what Haley does.”

“Who?” Then he grinned. “Wait, that's one of your imaginary friends, right?”

Brooke stuck out her tongue at him, and just like that, things were back to normal between them. They chatted about their jump-building plans until it got too cold to stay out there anymore. Brooke waved good-bye as he pedaled off on his bike, and then she hurried inside, hoping her fingers weren't too frozen to type, since she couldn't wait to tell her Pony Post friends all about her day.

CHAPTER

AFTER LUNCH THE
next day Brooke stopped by her locker to pick up her books for her afternoon classes. She'd just swung open the metal locker door when she saw Kiersten coming down the crowded hallway.

The new girl saw her, too, and walked over. “Hi,” she said, glancing toward Brooke's locker. “Cute pony. Is it yours?”

“Yeah, that's Foxy.” Brooke followed her gaze to the photo taped up inside the locker door. Adam had taken it last winter—it showed Brooke sitting on Foxy bareback, leaning down to hug the mare's fuzzy neck. “It's kind of a silly picture, but I like it.”

Kiersten leaned closer. “No, it's adorable. What kind of pony is Foxy?”

“She's a Chincoteague.”

“Really? Cool!” Kiersten smiled. “Just like Misty of Chincoteague, right? You know, like we were talking about yesterday?”

“Yeah. Reading that book over and over was what made me want to get a Chincoteague pony of my own,” Brooke admitted.

Kiersten smiled. “Awesome. Did you get her at the pony auction? It takes place pretty close to here, right?”

Brooke nodded. “Chincoteague's about an hour away. And yes, that's where I got her.”

“That's amazing.” Kiersten leaned against the lockers, clutching her books to her chest. “What was it like?”

Brooke smiled and closed her eyes for a second, drifting back to that day. “It was the best day of my life.” She opened her eyes and glanced at Kiersten. “I'd been bugging my parents for ages to let me go down there and buy a pony. I couldn't believe it when they finally said yes!”

She went on to tell the other girl all about it—how they'd arrived early to watch the ponies swim across the channel between Assateague and Chincoteague Islands, and how once the herd was in the corrals on the Chincoteague side, Brooke had spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around picking out which young ponies she wanted to bid on at the auction the next day. She'd spent the night in the B and B dreaming of training and riding and taking care of a sweet spotted pony of her very own—one that looked just like the famous Misty of Chincoteague.

The trouble was, all the young ponies that looked like Misty had sold for much more than Brooke could afford. Toward the end of the auction, it had been Foxy's turn on the auction block. Brooke had noticed the cute flaxen chestnut filly's quiet temperament in the pens, though Brooke hadn't put Foxy on her list, since she wasn't a pinto like Misty. Still, Brooke had liked the way the gangly little yearling had stood calmly watching the crowd, and so Brooke had raised her hand as the auctioneer had called for bids. But even after she'd bid all she could, others had still seemed interested, and Brooke had been afraid she'd end up going home with no pony at all—until her stepfather had raised his hand, adding a hundred dollars of his money to Brooke's so she could win Foxy.

“Wow,” Kiersten said when Brooke had finished the story. “That's so cool.”

Brooke nodded, opening her mouth to tell Kiersten about the Pony Post. But just then the bell rang, signaling that classes were starting again.

“Oops,” Brooke said, quickly rummaging around for her books. “I don't want to be late.”

“Me neither.” Kiersten grinned. “The teachers are still cutting me some slack since I'm the new girl, but I don't want to push it.”

Brooke laughed and waved as the two of them hurried off in opposite directions. Only when she was at her desk in her science classroom did Brooke realize that she still hadn't found out anything about Kiersten's horse experience.

Oh well,
she thought.
I'll have to ask her about that next time.

When Brooke walked into the kitchen that afternoon, her mother was sitting at the table sipping coffee and typing on her laptop. The rest of the house was quiet.

“Hi,” Brooke said, stepping over to the refrigerator to grab a snack. “Where is everybody?”

Her mother glanced up. “The twins are at a playdate, and your father's at the lot. I'll be off in a sec myself—I have a showing.”

“Okay.” Brooke was relieved to hear that the twins weren't home. They'd had so much fun riding Foxy yesterday that she'd been afraid they might want to do it again.

She glanced at her mother, wondering if she should say something about that. Foxy was her pony, and the mare was still young and a little green. One of Brooke's old riding instructors had once told her that every time you rode a horse, you were either training it or untraining it. She didn't like the idea of the twins deciding they could hop on and ride any old time, since she doubted what they did up there could be considered training.

Just then her mother checked her watch, took one last sip of coffee, and jumped to her feet. “I'm out of here,” she said briskly, straightening the lapels of her navy-blue blazer. “Wish me luck. Business has been slow lately, with all the cold weather, and I could really use this commission.”

“Good luck.” Brooke decided not to bother talking to her mother about the twins, at least right now. For one thing, it was obvious her mother was already focused on her showing. Besides, what were the odds that the short-attention-span twins would actually want to ride again?

Once her mother had gone, Brooke headed for the stairs, planning to check in with the Pony Post before going out to the barn to wait for Adam. Halfway up the stairs, she heard the doorbell chime.