“Where did you get him?” Kelly asked, as she looked in at Crown Prince with narrowed eyes.
“He’s off the racetrack,” Sarah said.
“Oh, so he’s green.” Nicole raised a pierced eyebrow. “Will you ride him in your lessons?”
Sarah took a deep breath, not sure how to answer. She decided to play it safe. “Eventually. But like you say, right now he’s green. It will be up to Jack.”
Nicole stepped closer to the stall to get a better look at Prince, who was checking his feed tub for any oats he might have missed.
“How is Jubilee going these days?” Sarah asked her. Ignoring the question, Nicole turned away, and the two girls walked toward the tack room, talking quietly to one another. Sarah could just imagine what they were saying.
Gus kept his promise and came to the office at nine to talk about Sarah’s work schedule. Earlier, when she had finished feeding the hay, Sarah noticed a broom leaning against the wall. Gus hadn’t mentioned sweeping the loft, but she took a few minutes to push the loose hay into one of the stalls. Gus will probably never mention my sweeping, she thought. He just plain does not want to find anything to like about a girl working here.
As they began discussing the tasks she’d be responsible for, Gus said, “You can start feeding the morning grain Tuesday. Monday is Lucas’s last day here.”
For the summer, Sarah was to work at the barn every morning, feeding both hay and grain. Saturday would be her day to scrub and fill water buckets. While Gus would attend to sweeping the aisles on other days, she would put in additional time on Sunday, his day off, sweeping the aisles, feed room, and tack rooms. She’d also be responsible for cleaning Prince’s stall every day and bringing in new shavings by wheelbarrow from the storage shed as they were needed. As Sarah thought about it, she was glad she would be doing most of her chores early, which gave her the rest of the day to spend with her horse. In the fall, her schedule would have to change—she’d only be able to work after school and on weekends.
Sarah was expecting her parents and Abby to come see Prince at the barn that morning, and she was grooming Crown Prince when they arrived. “Here’s something for all that new stuff you bought at the tack store,” her father said, lowering a large black trunk in front of the stall. “I found it in the basement and thought you might be able to use it.”
Sarah left the stall to get a closer look. “Awesome, Dad!” she said, as she lifted the top of the trunk and looked inside. “I like these compartments and drawers. I was wondering where I would put my stuff.” The trunk would look old-fashioned compared to the newer models in the tack room, but at least she had a place to store her horse equipment.
Sarah went back into the stall to finish grooming Prince, answering their questions as she worked. She wanted to give his coat a dazzling shine for her parents to see. Except for being a little touchy when she rubbed his underbelly with the rubber curry, Prince didn’t seem to mind being groomed. He willingly lifted his feet for her to pick out, and stood quietly as she combed his mane and ran a soft brush over his body. Prince seemed to bask in all the attention, and clearly liked having his face brushed. The hardest part was reaching his topline. Even when she stood on tiptoes, his hindquarters and withers were a long way up.
With her family watching from outside the stall, Sarah was relieved that Prince was behaving so well while she worked on him. She couldn’t forget the conversation she had overheard the night before. As she tossed and turned trying to get to sleep, her mother’s elevated voice drifted up the stairs and into her room.
“How could you let Sarah come home with a horse no one at the racetrack could handle! And you tell me they decided to get rid of the horse because it can’t be ridden.” Her mother’s voice had grown louder. “How is Sarah supposed to be safe with a horse like that?”
Sarah heard her father’s attempts to reassure her mother in his usual calm tone. “Alison, we’ve got to trust Jack and place some responsibility on his shoulders. He tells me that sometimes a horse can make a complete turnaround once it’s away from the racetrack. He assured me he will not let Sarah be in harm’s way. We agreed the horse will go back in thirty days or even less if he has any misgivings—or if we do.” Their voices became muffled as they moved to a different part of the house, and finally Sarah had drifted into a worried and restless sleep.
Now, as they watched her groom the horse, neither of her parents appeared less uneasy. For one thing, the horse was awfully big. Sarah had always been tall for her age, but standing next to Crown Prince she looked petite and fragile. Would she be able to control such a large animal? Mrs. Wagner was torn. She didn’t want to be overdramatic or unsupportive, and only wished she could give the horse the benefit of the doubt. She seemed a little less nervous after seeing how well behaved Prince was while Sarah was grooming him. “He shines like polished mahogany,” her mother said. “You do a good job, honey.”
Though he said little, Sarah’s father also watched closely. Was the decision to allow Sarah to take Crown Prince for a one-month’s trial a terrible mistake he would come to regret?
When Sarah put her brushes away, Abby came into the stall with the bag of carrots Sarah had left at home. “Just keep your hand flat when you feed him,” Sarah warned. “He might think one of your fingers is part of the deal.” Abby didn’t usually take an interest in horses, but she seemed to like Crown Prince. With Sarah at his head, Abby stayed for a long time stroking him while he nosed her pockets for more carrots. The Wagners had errands to run, and finally it was time for them to leave.
Later on Mr. DeWitt came back to the stall. His eyes went over every inch of the horse as they talked. Seeing him a second time confirmed DeWitt’s initial impression that this was one well-put-together animal. But he reminded Sarah that even if Crown Prince passed the vet exam, he would still have to prove he was safe for her to ride. “We don’t need another runaway at Brookmeade Farm,” Mr. DeWitt said with a smile. He appeared to be joking, but she knew he was dead serious.
Sarah felt jittery at the prospect of hand-walking Prince in the indoor arena, even though he was more relaxed now than he had been when he first arrived at the farm. She remembered Prince’s trainer saying he could be a tad spooky. Perhaps the indoor was a completely new experience for him, and a lot of horses freaked out until they got used to the loud creaking noise the metal roof made when it was windy, or to the sound of snow sliding off the roof in winter. Even Lady Tate had been known to leap in the air when barn sparrows swooped down from overhead.
Sarah ran the lead shank through the halter rings and over Prince’s nose before leading him from his stall and down the aisle to the entrance to the indoor arena. As they got closer, Sarah could hear that something was going on inside. Kathleen was longeing Hedgerow at the far end of the indoor. He trotted around her at the end of a long line as she called out vocal commands in firm voice.
Once inside, Prince looked around nervously. Even with another horse nearby, he was tense. He walked briskly beside Sarah with his head high, occasionally prancing and pulling on the shank. When they reached the long side of the arena, he snorted and jumped back at the sight of his own image in the mirror that ran the length of the wall. Further along, he shied away from a set of jump standards and painted rails stacked in a corner, taking her with him. She was relieved that the next time around he took a long look at the jumps but didn’t spook. Sarah talked softly to him, and occasionally reached up to give him a pat. Once she thought she saw Jack watching from the lounge, but the next time she looked, he was gone.
“Congratulations on getting such a nice horse,” Kathleen called out. “He’s handsome, to be sure.”
“Thanks, Kathleen,” Sarah said. “He’s a little nervous. I’m glad you have Hedgerow in here to keep him company.”
“We’re just about finished. I hope Prince won’t be upset when we leave.”
Sarah gripped the lead shank tighter when Kathleen led Hedgerow toward the outgate, and Prince’s h
ead came up when he saw them leaving the arena. I should keep on walking as if nothing is happening, Sarah thought. Suddenly Prince whinnied loudly and pulled against the shank, his body turning sideways beside her. Thank goodness the shank is over his nose, she thought. She could feel his power through the shank. “Easy, boy,” she said, while tweaking the pressure of the shank on his nose. Remembering what Jack had taught them to do when a horse got too strong under saddle, she turned Prince off the track and led him on a small circle. He whinnied once more and then seemed to quiet down, so she took him back out onto the track that went around the arena. A few minutes later he was much more relaxed.
After the light exercise session, Sarah brought Prince back to his stall. She thought about all the visitors they’d had that day. It was good to have some time alone with her horse, even with the noise the carpenters were making. They were under pressure to finish building the two extra stalls and had consented to work over the weekend.
Prince cleaned up his hay and sniffed his feed box one more time before coming to stand beside her, nuzzling her pockets. Sarah spoke softly and gently stroked him. As he had done on their first meeting at the racetrack, his eyes softened and half closed. He lowered his head to lean on her shoulder. “What a good boy you are, Prince,” she murmured, continuing to stroke him. His first full day at Brookmeade had gone so well. Now they just had to get a clean bill of health from the veterinarian tomorrow.
CHAPTER 10
The Vet Exam
IT WAS BARELY LIGHT the next morning when Sarah rolled over and glanced at her clock radio. As her head cleared, she remembered. This was Monday, the day of Prince’s vet check! Gus would be furious if she wasn’t at the barn by seven to feed the horses, and the last thing she wanted was to be late. She sprang out of bed, splashed some cold water on her face, and slipped into her jeans and a T-shirt. She ran a brush through her hair and put it in a ponytail before hurrying downstairs.
The house was quiet, not surprising, since her father wouldn’t be going to the Creamery until mid-morning. She was glad she could bike to the barn without waiting for a ride. If she hurried, there was time for a quick breakfast. She poured a glass of orange juice and a bowl of Cheerios. While she was eating at the kitchen table, Abby appeared in the doorway, still in her pajamas. Her blonde hair was tousled, and it was obvious she hadn’t been awake very long.
“I thought I heard someone down here,” she said, her voice scratchy. “Are you going to the barn pretty soon?”
Sarah nodded, continuing to eat her cereal. “Prince is being vetted today,” she said between mouthfuls.
“You wouldn’t need any help with that, would you?”
Sarah frowned. This was a surprise, coming from a girl who had never shown much interest in horses. On this most important day, Sarah didn’t want to deal with having her younger sister at the barn.
“Look, Abby, it’s going to be a long day. I have to hurry to get Prince ready for Dr. Reynolds. I’m going to be busy, and there won’t be much for you to do. What makes you want to come to the barn now?”
Abby stared at the floor for a moment, fiddling with a button on her pajamas. When she looked up, her face mirrored her disappointment. “I thought maybe I could help you,” she said in a low voice.
Sarah saw she had hurt her sister’s feelings, like the time Abby had wanted to go with her to a pool party at Rita Snyder’s last summer. “No one else will be bringing a little sister,” she’d complained to their mother, who seemed to understand.
Sarah thought for a moment before answering. “Abby, Dad will be going to the Creamery today. Don’t you want to work there in my place?”
Abby’s face brightened. “Oh, that’s right! He said I could!”
“Do you want my Seaside Creamery T-shirts?” Sarah asked. “They’re in my bottom drawer.”
“Cool!” Abby said, starting toward the stairs. As she stopped to look in the hall mirror, her nose scrunched up. “Bed head,” she muttered before hurrying up the stairs.
Sarah was relieved her sister had given up the idea of coming to the barn, though at the same time she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt. But there was no time to dwell on it. She rose from the table, mentally checking the things she needed to take with her. She quickly stuffed the sandwich she’d made the night before and her water bottle into her backpack. She took two carrots from the refrigerator, and as she headed for the door, grabbed some peppermints and stuck them in her jeans pocket.
Easing the screen door shut behind her so it wouldn’t slam, Sarah walked quickly to the tool shed where her bike was stored. After adjusting her bike helmet, she pulled her bicycle out of the shed. The morning sun had gotten a head start and was high above the horizon, but the grass under her feet was still wet with dew. With a running start, she was on her way. Pedaling fast down the bike lane, she was glad she wore a sweatshirt against the early morning chill. She’d timed it yesterday. If she hurried, it was about twelve minutes to the Brookmeade entry road and another six to the barn.
Just like the day before, Prince was clearly glad to see her when she arrived. What an awesome horse! She stroked his head and gently tugged on his ears. When she stepped back to pull one of the carrots out of her sweatshirt pocket, Prince reached out to take a large bite.
A glance at her watch told her it was time to feed hay. With a kiss on his velvet nose, Sarah left the stall and headed for the hay loft. Gus would be back on duty today, and she didn’t want to give him any excuse to be critical. It would be great if she didn’t meet up with the cranky barn manager at all. Coming up to the loft, she breathed deeply the sweet aroma of the newly cut hay before pulling out several seasoned bales. She carefully followed Gus’s instructions, which she’d gone over and over in her head, as she distributed hay to the horses, and again did a quick sweep of the loft before rushing back to Prince’s stall, stopping by the tack room on her way to get her grooming equipment. She brushed him while he ate his hay, stopping only when Jack stopped by to remind her of the veterinary appointment.
“If I have time, should I walk him in the indoor before Dr. Reynolds gets here?” Sarah asked.
“Good idea. ’Twill loosen him up a bit. But have him in the courtyard at nine sharp.” Jack started to leave but turned back. “Mr. DeWitt wanted me to tell you not to worry about the cost of the vet exam. He said he and his wife got you into this deal, and they are prepared to pay for the pre-purchase.”
Sarah gulped. She hadn’t even thought of this extra expense.
Paige was again at the barn early to ride Quarry. She poked her head around the corner when Sarah had nearly finished brushing Prince’s tail. “Hey, good luck with the pre-purchase. I hope he passes.” She stepped closer to look at Prince. “Gee, Sarah, your new brushes are getting quite a workout.” She grinned. “How many times have you groomed him so far? When you finish this time, your horse will either have the shiniest coat in the barn or no coat left.”
Sarah laughed and thanked Paige for her good wishes. “What are you doing with Quarry today?”
“We need a dressage school. There’s a lot to improve on before Fair Pines. But since we did a conditioning ride yesterday, I’ll probably just school Quarry for a bit then take a short hack with Tim when he gets here.”
“I hope Prince and I can go with you on a trail ride one of these days,” Sarah said, imagining the three of them cantering along wooded paths.
“It will definitely happen!” Paige assured her. “Gotta go… See ya.”
After Paige left, Sarah led Prince out of the barn toward the indoor riding arena. Today the cavernous indoor was deserted. They didn’t have long to walk before the vet appointment, only a few minutes, and thankfully Prince didn’t seem to mind being there without another horse. He was much more relaxed on his second visit. They had gone around only once when Jack appeared in the doorway. He appeared tense.
“Sarah, Dr. Reynolds is here. He’s a little early, but he wants to start with your horse right away.
So hurry along.” Sarah gripped the lead shank tighter as she left the arena, heading toward the courtyard near the front of the barn. This is it, she thought. So much depended on the exam.
A man with a buzzcut, glasses, and wearing a stethoscope around his neck stood next to a capped pickup talking to Jack and Mr. DeWitt. As Sarah drew nearer, the veterinarian turned to look at her horse. “This must be Crown Prince,” he said, “and you must be Sarah.”
Sarah’s throat felt scratchy, and all she could manage was a rather feeble, “Yes,” as she asked Prince to halt.
Dr. Reynolds walked around the horse, sizing him up with an experienced eye that immediately recognized an extremely fine equine individual. The horse was the picture of health, his smooth coat gleaming in the rays of the morning sun, and his legs showed no signs of injuries. Typically horses the vet saw coming off the racetrack had blemishes—big ankles, popped knees, bowed tendons—but this one’s legs were clean. The vet also noticed that the horse carried more weight than was typical for fit racehorses.
“You want to give me the story on this horse?” he asked.
Jack spoke up. “He’s a four-year-old Thoroughbred that came to the farm on Saturday from Rudy Dominic’s barn at Raceland Park. He never started.”
The vet raised his eyebrows. “Do you know why he was retired without ever running in a race? Does he come with any soundness or health issues you’re aware of?”
“We’re hoping you can answer that question,” Mr. DeWitt said. “We need to know if there are underlying problems.”
Dr. Reynolds scratched his head and thought for a moment. Looking toward the barn, he picked up his medical bag and said, “Before we check him for lameness, let’s put him in his stall where conditions aren’t so bright. It will be a better place to check his eyes and vital signs.”
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