Horse Named Dragon (4 page)

Cookie set down a bowl of fresh fruit. “Did you have a chance to photograph the horses in the west pasture?”

“More horses?” exclaimed the girls.

“Not too many,” said Cookie. “I never took you riding in the west pasture. You have to ride through a big hay field, and there’s not much to see. There’s an old barn out there we didn’t use for years and years. It was Slim’s idea to use it for all the rescue horses people send him. He brought in a couple of his own volunteers to help him out. We’re lucky to find a vet that takes such good care of his patients.” She plucked a grape from the bowl and popped it in her mouth. “So, do you think you gals have the energy to take more photos?” Cookie asked.

“Aren’t we ever going to get to ride?” moaned Benny.

“Soon,” Cookie said. “We need to finish a few more chores. I’ll ring the bell when it’s time to saddle up.”

Jessie rumpled her little brother’s hair. “Come help us,” she said. “You can feed apples and carrots to the horses so they’ll hold still.”

“I’m good at that,” said Benny. He followed his sisters into the big ranch kitchen. Violet took apples from a barrel and cut them into chunks. Benny found a crate of carrots and stuffed big bunches into a bag.

“You’d better change shoes,” Violet told Benny. He ran to the stable and took off the yellow boots. He put them with the yellow boots the ranch hands used when they worked around water and mud. Benny’s were the only pair with brown stains. “Hurry up,” called Jessie. Benny pulled on his cowboy boots and ran out of the stable. Then the three children headed out across the ranch toward the west pasture.

They had walked five minutes when a horse and rider came toward them. “It’s Henry,” cried Benny, waving.

Henry pulled Lightning to a stop. “I found where Honey and Bunny got out!” In a rush, Henry told them about the broken fence and the hoofprints in the dirt, and the tire tracks. “I think someone saw Honey and Bunny on the road, then stole them.”

Violet laughed. “No, no. A neighbor found them in his pasture and brought them home.”

Henry frowned. “But … but I
saw
their hoofprints. I
saw
the tire tracks.”

The four children tried to puzzle this out.

“Maybe there just happened to be tire tracks near the fence,” said Violet. “People could have stopped to look at the broken fence after the horses got out. They could have driven over the horse’s prints and erased them. That would explain why you couldn’t see them.”

Henry patted Lightning’s neck. “That’s what Kurt said. He said the hoofprints stopped because the horses wandered onto the road.”

Jessie looked at her brother. “You don’t think so, do you?”

Henry blew out a huff of air. “It just seems a great big coincidence to find a broken fence, hoofprints,
and
tire tracks all in the same place. And I don’t like coincidences. But if Honey and Bunny are back, then I guess they weren’t stolen.” He noticed Jessie’s camera and the big bag Benny was carrying. “Where are you going?”

“To photograph horses in the west pasture,” said Violet.

“You’d better hurry and eat lunch,” said Benny, “before the food’s all gone.”

Henry smiled at the thought of Cookie ever running out of food. “See you in a little while.” Then he and Lightning took off across the field.

Henry walked Lightning into the stable. Bucky was washing a stout horse with a giant sponge. Another stout horse stood tied nearby. Bucky’s hat with the feathers hung on a nail in the wall, and his cowboy boots stood under it. He wore yellow rubber boots while he slopped soapy water on the horse.

“Did you and Kurt mend the fence?” Bucky asked.

“Yes.” Henry unbuckled Lightning’s saddle and set it on the saddle stand. Then he took off his riding helmet and hung it on the wall.

Bucky frowned at Henry’s face and arms. “Where’d you get all scratched up like that?”

“Tying rope around that broken tree branch.”

“Better wash those cuts so they don’t get infected,” said Bucky. “By the way,” he said, patting the soapy horse, “this here’s Honey, and that there’s Bunny.”

Henry ran his hand over Honey’s smooth hide. “How did she get out of the pasture without that tree branch scratching her up?”

“She must’ve walked around it,” said Bucky.

“No way,” said Henry. He searched but he couldn’t find a single scratch or scrape on either horse. “I could barely squeeze between the branch and the fence post, and I’m a lot skinnier than these two.”

“An
elephant’s
skinnier than these two,” said Bucky, laughing.

“Who brought them back?” Henry asked.

“Some neighbor from up the road.” Bucky squinted one eye. “I don’t recall seeing him before. ’Course, I’ve been gone from here a lot of years. Moved away when I was around eight years old. Most of the people I used to know are long gone.”

“Henry Alden!” Cookie strode into the stable. “If you don’t get some food in your belly right this minute, your grandfather will have my hide. Bucky, are you keeping this boy from his lunch?”

Bucky’s face turned bright red. Even the tips of his ears looked on fire against his white hair. He looked down at the ground where his boots were getting muddy from the running hose. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to.”

“Come on, Henry,” Cookie said, “I’ll heat some food for you. We have a long afternoon’s work ahead of us.” As they walked out, Cookie glanced back at Bucky and, Henry thought, Cookie’s face seemed to turn a bit redder, too.

“Easy, girl. That’s a good horse. Nice horse.” Violet spoke softly to each horse as Benny fed them carrots and apples. Jessie took the pictures. There were few horses in the west pasture, and the three children quickly took one photo after another.

They were nearly done when a dark blue pickup truck slowed near the fence. It pulled a small silver trailer. Two horses inside swished their tails side-to-side. The trailer covered the front halves of the horses. But the children saw the backsides of a big black horse and a small brown pony.

“Look,” Benny cried, “that’s the neighbor who brought back Honey and Bunny.”

“Hey!” A cowboy in a striped shirt galloped up and jerked his horse to a stop. “What are you kids doing here?”

Jessie smiled. “We’re taking pictures of all the horses for—”

“Not
these
horses,” growled the man.

“Cookie asked us to,” said Violet.

“No one’s allowed out here.”

Benny folded his arms across his chest. “Why not?”

“Because … because …” The man wiggled his jaw from side to side for a moment. “Ah, because we got new rescue horses comin’ in. They’re, ah, sick. They could, um, bite you. No one’s allowed out here but us … us volunteers.” His horse pawed the ground, eyeing a piece of apple Benny had dropped. The man glowered at Jessie. “What are those pictures for?”

Jessie brightened. “Well, you see, we’re going to put them on the Inter—”

Suddenly, the man’s horse jerked its head down, yanking the man forward. A large yellow envelope fell out of the man’s shirt pocket onto the ground. Money spilled out. He jumped off his horse and grabbed the envelope, shoving the bills back inside. Then he tucked the envelope back in his shirt and climbed on his horse. The man reached for Jessie’s camera. “I’ll take your pictures, girlie,” he said, “and bring them to you later.”

In the distance, a cowbell rang. “No, thank you,” said Jessie, clutching her brand new birthday camera. She would not leave it with someone she didn’t know. The cowbell rang again.

“We have to go,” said Violet. “It’s time for our ride.”

And with that, the three children ran off across the west pasture, through the fence and field of tall hay, and didn’t slow until they were a good distance away.

“He
really
didn’t want us taking pictures,” said Jessie.

“That’s ’cause the horses might bite us,” said Benny. He took the last carrot out of the bag, munching happily as they walked.

“If you ask me,” Violet said, “the only thing those horses wanted to bite were carrots and apples.”

The cowbell rang again and the three children ran as fast as they could across the pasture toward the corral. At last they would get the chance to ride.

Jessie stopped in the ranch house to put her camera in Cookie’s office. She quickly plugged it into Cookie’s computer. She typed in “Jessie’s File,” and copied her horse photos from the camera to the computer. Tonight, after dinner, she would teach Cookie how to post the rescue horse photos on the Dare to Dream Website.

Clang, clang, clang,
went the dinner bell.

Jessie unplugged her camera and set it carefully on the shelf above the computer. Then she ran out to the corral to saddle Dragon.

But Dragon wasn’t in the corral. Jessie ran out to the pasture. In the distance, Bucky stood next to the fence surrounded by several horses. “Have you seen Dragon?” called Jessie.

“Not since this morning,” he called back. He took off his feathered hat. “Eeeeeeeehaaaa!” he yelled, waving his hat at the horses, shooing them back into the pasture. A couple of orange feathers floated out. “Maybe he’s still in the stable.”

Jessie ran to the stable, but Dragon’s stall was empty. Jessie’s stomach did a flip-flop. Something was wrong. She found Alyssa in the corral, saddling the horses for their ride. “I can’t find Dragon,” said Jessie.

“Oh, he’s here somewhere,” said the wrangler. “Sometimes Dragon wanders off. He likes to explore. We should have named him Christopher Columbus.” She saw the worry on Jessie’s face. “He’ll turn up,” said Alyssa. “He always does. Meanwhile, you can ride Jumpin’ Jack here. He’s a real sweetie.”

Alyssa led the children on the long trail that wound along the ranch fence. “Benny,” said the wrangler. “Try not to hold onto the saddle horn. Cowboys hold the reins with their hands and grip the horse with their knees.” Slowly, Benny let go of the horn. He squeezed the saddle with his knees. It felt scary not to hold on. But he wanted to learn to ride like a real cowboy.

Henry rode next to Jessie. “Don’t be sad,” he said.

She patted Jumpin’ Jack’s neck. “I’m worried about Dragon. What if he’s been stolen?”

“He’s not stolen,” said Henry, trying to make her feel better.

“Then where
is
he?” Jessie asked.

But Henry had no answer.

They rode past the fence where Bucky had been shooing the horses. Lots-o’-Dots sniffed the air. Suddenly, he jerked his head to the left and trotted toward the fence.

“Whoa!” cried Benny. The small boy leaned back, pulling on the reins with all his might, but Lots-o’-Dots kept going. The little horse went straight to the fence and bent his head to the ground. Benny tugged and tugged, but Lots-o’-Dots wouldn’t budge.

Jessie climbed down to see what Benny’s horse had found. “Look,” she said, picking up a handful of grain. “Someone dumped oats in the grass.”

Alyssa rode over. “What’s the problem?”

“Lots-o’-Dots found some oats to eat,” said Benny.

“Who would put oats so close to the fence?” asked Henry.

“Tourists.” Alyssa took off her red hat to shoo flies off her horse. “All summer, city folks stop to give treats to our horses—sugar cubes, carrots, apples. You’d think they never saw a horse before. Though this is the first time I’ve seen them bring oats.” She looked at the children. “Would anybody like to do a little cantering?”

“Yes!” they all cheered. For they loved to ride fast, and a canter was almost as fast as a full-out run.

Alyssa grabbed Lots-o’-Dot’s reins and led him back to the trail. “Let’s ride!” she said. And, tapping their horses with their heels, the eager group took off, cantering across the sprawling ranch.

As they rode, Jessie looked for Dragon. She didn’t see him anywhere. They rode and rode, across pastures and through fields of tall hay, over hills, and past stands of towering pines until they reached a far pasture. Three enormous trees grew there.

Alyssa held her hand up high. It was the signal to stop. The children pulled back on their reins and walked their horses into the trees’ cool shade.

“This is where I helped fix the broken fence,” Henry said, proudly, pointing toward the road. “I dug in those two new posts and helped Kurt string the wire.”

“Let’s give our horses a rest.” Alyssa said. “You can stretch your legs.”

Violet took her sketchpad and pencil from her saddlebag. She was eager to begin planning her mural. These trees and horses would look beautiful painted on the side of the barn. Near the fence, she picked up a long brown pod. Last year, for a school science project, she collected leaves from her neighborhood. She glued them onto construction paper and stitched the pages into a book called
The Trees of Greenfield.
“This is from a honey locust,” she said, shaking the pod. The seeds inside rattled.

“That fell off of the branch that broke the fence,” said Henry.

Violet looked at the three big trees. There were no other trees nearby. “These are maples,” she said. “There’s no honey locust here.”

“Kurt said a wind must have blown the branch down,” Henry replied.

“That must have been one strong wind,” Violet said.

Benny lay in the shade of a tree, staring straight up. “Why does this tree have holes in it?” he asked.

“Remember our trip to Canada?” asked Jessie. “At the sugar camp, we saw people drill holes like these into maple trees, then hook buckets under each hole.”