by Suzanne Weyn
Taylor saw that the boy with the wheelchair looked particularly happy as he rode Cody. It was as if his quiet reserve had fallen away and he’d gained new confidence as he controlled the large-bodied Colorado Ranger gelding. The boy’s eyes were bright with pride, and his shoulders were back. It must be so much easier for him to move on Cody than in his wheelchair, she thought. I bet he loves that.
Before Taylor knew it, the lesson was over, and Casey was grinning ear to ear. Taylor breathed a sigh of relief as she patted Mandy on the rump, thanking her for behaving.
As they were leaving the ring, Plum Mason came out of the main building in her tan breeches and shiny black tall boots, blonde hair tucked neatly underneath a velvet riding helmet. She led Shafir — Plum leased the sleek, chestnut Arabian mare from Wildwood.
Plum’s lease agreement allowed her the right to ride Shafir whenever the horse was not being used for a lesson or trail ride. In exchange, the Masons paid a monthly fee that covered a portion of Shafir’s board.
Plum and Taylor had never been friendly, even though they were both in the eighth grade at Pheasant Valley Middle School. Plum was the queen bee in her clique of exclusive friends, while Taylor didn’t hang with any one particular group of kids.
The HORSE group oohed and aahed at gorgeous Shafir. Ears perked, she put her head down and sniffed at everyone she passed, seeming happy to have the attention.
Angie came over to Plum and asked if she could pet Shafir. Plum nodded, then shot a smug grin to Taylor — as if Taylor really needed to be reminded that Prince Albert had not endeared himself to anyone in the HORSE group.
“Do you compete on her?” Angie asked Plum as she stroked Shafir’s shiny neck.
“Yes,” said Plum primly, “we’ve won together a bunch of times.”
Taylor stared at Plum pointedly, knowing that the girl had to be thinking of the last competition, held at the swanky Ross River Ranch on the other side of Pheasant Valley. It had been Taylor’s first time competing in a jump event. Even though the event was for beginners, Taylor was proud that she’d beaten the more advanced Plum — who shouldn’t even have been competing in a beginner event, in Taylor’s opinion.
In her heart, Taylor knew it had been a piece of very good luck that she had been riding a well-trained and experienced horse. Monty, a beautiful white Missouri Fox Trotting gelding, had once been owned by Mercedes, and she had trained him well. That was before financial disaster had hit the Gonzalez family and Mercedes’ beloved horse had to be sold.
Still, Taylor had won that jump event. Plus she knew it made Plum furious, and Taylor was not above enjoying that fact.
Plum looked away from Taylor and focused her attention on Angie. “I have a lot of ribbons at home,” Plum told the young woman.
“Wow! So are you going to the competition at Gypsy Trails coming up? They have jumping,” Angie said. “Do you jump?”
“Definitely,” Plum replied with confidence.
Taylor was helping Casey dismount but could hear every word that was being said.
“I should check it out. Do you know what levels they have?” Plum asked.
“All levels. You must be up pretty high, hmm?” Angie said.
Plum feigned bashfulness. “No. I’m good, but not that good,” she said, her voice full of mock humility. “I’ll be sure to enter the beginner levels.”
Taylor’s head whipped over to glower at Plum, who had certainly made sure to speak the word beginner with exaggerated clarity, just so Taylor could hear it.
Plum waved good-bye to Angie and the HORSE crowd, like a queen making an exit, but stopped when she reached Taylor. “Oh, Taylor. Did you hear? Gypsy Trails is having a show.” She spoke in the annoying singsong she used when she wanted to taunt someone.
“Yeah. I heard. A little birdie told me,” Taylor said flatly as she loosened Mandy’s cinch.
“Great! I guess I’ll be seeing you in the beginner class then, when I win a blue. It’s okay, you can cheer for me.” Plum gave her a malicious grin.
“You’re not a beginner, Plum. Why don’t you let real beginners have a chance? It’s just so you can win, isn’t it?”
“It’s always fun to win,” she cooed.
“You don’t always win,” Taylor reminded her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Just then, a loud shout came from behind the barn, and Prince Albert came trotting out toward the group, with no rider on his back. Daphne hurried behind him, a slight limp in her jog.
The gelding stopped when he spotted the other horses and Taylor looking at him. Daphne huffed up and grabbed his reins.
“He still won’t let anyone else ride him,” Daphne wheezed.
Taylor frowned and Plum smirked again.
“On second thought, maybe you should just stay home from Gypsy Trails,” Plum said. “Looks like you have your work cut out for you here.” And with that last insult, she led Shafir into the ring.
“Don’t worry! I’ll see you there!” Taylor shouted, and then turned to Daphne. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“No, I just fell trying to get on him. He backed up really quick, and I twisted my leg in a weird way,” she said, grimacing as she massaged her sore knee.
Taylor looked over at Frank, who was helping the HORSE students into the van and waving to Mrs. LeFleur. “Thanks!” he called. “We’ll be back next week. And good luck with that horse. Hope he doesn’t hurt anyone.”
Taylor’s jaw dropped. Hurt anyone? Prince Albert would never! But her gaze flicked back to Daphne, who was sitting and rubbing her knee, a pained expression on her face.
What if he did? What if he accidentally hurt someone? What would happen?
“That horse is a menace!” Plum shouted from the ring. “He’s dangerous!”
Shut up, Plum, were the words that sat on Taylor’s tongue and were about to be launched, but then Taylor’s gaze fell on Mrs. LeFleur. The pinched, worried look on the ranch owner’s face made Taylor swallow her angry retort. She had been warned about fighting with Plum, one of Wildwood’s best customers.
Behind her thick glasses, Mrs. LeFleur’s dark eyes were darting between Taylor and Prince Albert. Taylor could tell that whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t good news for Prince Albert. Taylor took hold of Prince Albert’s reins and turned him around toward the main building. Maybe if he wasn’t directly in front of Mrs. LeFleur, she would forget about his awful performance that day.
Pixie neighed from the corral. The pony trotted toward the gate, eager to be let out so she could follow Prince Albert inside.
“No, Pixie, you have to stay,” Taylor said.
The County HORSE people drove off down the dirt road, and Taylor was at least thankful that Frank had said they’d be back. If Prince Albert’s behavior had cost Wildwood their biggest contract, it would be just too terrible.
From the gate, Pixie whinnied pleadingly.
Daphne clicked for Pixie to come to her, but the Shetland pony wouldn’t budge. With a sigh, Daphne approached the gate.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Taylor asked. “I’m so sorry about the way Prince Albert acted.”
“I’m a little sore, but I’ll be all right,” Daphne replied. “He really does not want anyone else besides Dana and you to ride him, does he?”
“If you can’t get him to let you ride I don’t think anyone could,” Taylor said. She meant it, too. Taylor had never known anyone who was a better rider or who had a more instinctive feeling for horses than Daphne.
“Why don’t you hitch Prince Albert to the fence so Pixie can see him?” Daphne suggested. “I have a lesson coming in fifteen minutes, and I could use your help with it.”
Daphne turned to Mrs. LeFleur. “Would that be okay?” she checked. “The girl who’s coming for the lesson likes to ride Pixie, and you know how Pixie is about having Prince Albert nearby.”
Taylor appreciated the way in which Daphne was trying to smooth things over. She was a r
eal friend.
Daring to look back in Mrs. LeFleur’s direction, Taylor saw that she still looked thoughtful and worried. But Wildwood’s owner nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course,” she said.
Taylor pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth and looked skyward. It was what she always did when she felt tears were threatening to spill over. It was not the time to cry, but she was so worried that Prince Albert had really, finally worn out his welcome at Wildwood Stables.
Fifteen minutes later, Mrs. LeFleur headed toward her car. “I need to go into town for a short while. Can you girls handle things here?”
“Sure,” Mercedes told her as she walked Cody to cool him down. “Don’t worry.”
Mrs. LeFleur looked to Daphne, who was the oldest.
“We’ll be fine,” Daphne confirmed. “I won’t leave until you get back.” She smiled at Taylor, and something in the kindness of her expression made the tears Taylor had thought were under control jump back into her eyes once more.
“I’ll be back in a minute to help you with the lesson,” Taylor said, looking up again to keep the wetness from brimming over. The last thing she wanted was for Plum to see her cry.
“Sure,” Daphne agreed. “Take your time.”
With quick movements, Taylor hitched Prince Albert to the fence. He sputtered and Taylor patted his flank. “It’s all right. I know you don’t understand,” she murmured in a low tone. “It’s all right.”
Taylor ducked her head as she made her way into the main building. All she wanted was to get away to a safe, quiet place — to hide from the world. She entered the shady middle aisle of the main building, and it wasn’t until she reached Prince Albert’s stall that she let her tears fall freely, covering her face with her hands.
Why did Prince Albert have to be so difficult?
She was so scared! What if Mrs. LeFleur said he had to go? Pixie wouldn’t survive without him — and neither would Taylor!
A life without Prince Albert? It would be like living without a part of her body — her very heart! The idea of it made the tears come harder. Why couldn’t she get through to her horse?
The sound of footsteps made Taylor lower her hands to see who was there.
Eric Mason stood beside her, his hazel green eyes filled with questions. Eric was Plum’s cousin, but they couldn’t be more different. About a year older than Taylor and Plum, Eric was kind and considerate. He’d started hanging out at Wildwood since Westheimer’s, another ranch nearby, had to cut staff and he’d lost his job there. Taylor was glad to have him around more.
She laughed self-consciously through her tears, embarrassed that he was seeing her in such a state. “Prince Albert is going to be thrown out of here if he doesn’t start behaving,” she explained.
“Did he give you a hard time with the County HORSE group?” he asked.
Taylor nodded as she wiped her eyes. “He wouldn’t let the girl who was supposed to ride him mount,” Taylor explained. “Prince Albert has to be a working horse. I can’t afford to keep him otherwise.”
“I know. But don’t worry. He’ll come around,” Eric said kindly.
“Thanks, but I’m not so sure anymore,” Taylor replied. “He’s been here for three months. Time’s running out.”
“Jojo is like that,” Eric said, referring to his Tennessee walking horse gelding that he still boarded over at Westheimer’s. “Jojo will only let me ride him.”
“Really?” Taylor said, tilting her head with interest. “I guess that’s okay, though, because no one else but you has to ride him. Right?”
“Not exactly,” Eric said. “Remember how I wanted to talk to Mrs. LeFleur about working here?”
Taylor nodded. When Eric was on Westheimer’s staff he’d been allowed to board Jojo there for free. Now that he didn’t work there anymore, he would have to pay. So he had asked Mrs. LeFleur for a job.
“Well, she can’t hire anyone right now. She reminded me that Daphne, Mercedes, and you all volunteer,” Eric said.
“And Travis, too,” Taylor added. Her best friend, Travis Ryan, repaired things around Wildwood so Taylor and he could hang out.
“Yeah, and Travis,” Eric agreed. “The point is that she can’t pay anyone, but she did say I could board Jojo here for half price — if I agreed to work a little and to feed him myself.”
“That’s great!” Taylor said. It meant Eric would be around all the time.
Taylor liked Eric a lot, and she suspected that he liked her in the same way; suspected, but was not completely sure. He came over and talked to her all the time, and he really seemed to care what happened to her, like now.
“Daphne said that if she could use Jojo for lessons sometimes, she’d groom him and exercise him when I wasn’t around,” Eric added. “So, I have to get him to take on other riders. Maybe we could work on it together when I’m here.”
“Sure, I’d like that!” Taylor agreed. “When should we start?”
“Ralph is lending me his trailer on Wednesday to bring Jojo over here. I have soccer practice after school on Monday and Tuesday. So does Wednesday sound okay?”
“Wednesday I start my free riding lessons over at Ross River Ranch,” Taylor told him.
“I remember — the ones you won in the last competition,” Eric recalled.
Taylor nodded. “I’m so excited,” she admitted. “I have to get really good, really fast. I want to enter a jumping event coming up at Gypsy Trails. Actually, I kind of have to enter, since I pretty much challenged Plum just now.”
“Why did you do that?” Eric asked with an uneasy grimace.
“You know how Plum can be,” Taylor replied.
Eric laughed grimly. “Nobody knows how annoying my cousin can be more than I do,” he said. “Still … you challenged her? Why?”
“She just makes so mad.”
“Don’t let her get to you.”
Taylor knew it was sensible advice, and she’d heard — and tried — it before. Why did Plum bother her so much? It had always been that way. Plum was arrogant and rich and always made a point of looking down on Taylor and everyone else. “I don’t know. She’s just so … mean.”
Eric nodded thoughtfully. “She can be mean sometimes, I guess.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, but she decided to drop the subject. Plum was Eric’s cousin, after all, and he probably felt he had to stick up for her, at least a little.
“How’s Spots doing?” Taylor asked, to change the subject.
Spots was the young fawn they’d rescued from the woods. Normally, they wouldn’t have touched a young animal sitting in underbrush, as Spots had been. Most likely the mother deer was going to return for it. But, after seeing a dead doe on the side of the road, Taylor had checked on the little fawn a while later. It was clear that the fawn had been there alone a long time. It had been making a heartrending, pitiful sound, bleating like a goat, crying for its mother to feed it.
Eric and Taylor walked up the aisle toward the front entrance of the main building. Spots’s new home was in the tack room, near the front door.
Before looking in on Spots, Taylor stepped out front to check if Daphne’s riding lesson had arrived. There was still no sign of the student. Daphne and Mercedes were sitting on the split-rail fence of the front corral. Pixie and Prince Albert grazed peacefully on either side of the gate, content just to be together, while Mandy and Cody also munched on the taller grass that grew beside another fence post. With a wave to her friends, Taylor ducked back into the main building and joined Eric in the tack room.
Spots sat in the far corner, sleeping soundly, his spindly legs tucked under his delicate body. His reddish coat was dotted with the white spots for which he’d been named.
“I talked to the vet, Dr. Somers, last week,” Eric told Taylor. “She thinks Spots is at least four months old.”
“How can she tell?” Taylor asked.
“She said that the last deer births of the season are usually around the end of June. We found Spots in e
arly November, which would make him about four months old, and Dr. Somers figures, because he’s still so small and still has his spots, he’s probably not any older than five months, at the most. But because of his small size, she thinks he’s closer to four months,” he said. “I looked it up online, and a deer usually molts and loses its spots by seven months.”
Taylor was impressed. Eric always knew so much about everything. He went to a prestigious private school on an academic scholarship. His brains made him that much more appealing, in Taylor’s opinion.
“I just fed him, so he should be falling asleep soon,” Eric added.
“Is that why you’re here today, to take care of Spots?” Taylor asked.
“Since I don’t have an after-school job anymore, I have time. And I like the little guy,” he said. “Now I’m just waiting for my aunt Beverly to come get Plum so I can catch a ride with them.”
Taylor groaned — a little louder than she meant to. A few weeks ago, Beverly Mason had driven so fast down Wildwood Lane that she had spooked Prince Albert. Taylor had been walking him on a lead line when Prince Albert reared and broke free, running out onto the steep and winding main road. Mercedes’ mother had been driving around the corner, and she crashed into a tree to avoid hitting the gelding.
And that was the reason Mercedes had been forbidden to come to Wildwood anymore. Her mother had decided that the conditions at the ranch weren’t safe.
Eric sighed. Along with Travis, he had helped Taylor search for her runaway horse on that awful day. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “I know you’re not a fan of Aunt Beverly.”
“Sorry, but no,” Taylor replied.
“She does drive too fast, sometimes,” Eric conceded.
And she wouldn’t take any responsibility for what she did, Taylor recalled indignantly. But again, she decided not to say anything to embarrass Eric about his family. He couldn’t help who his relatives were.
“Don’t worry,” Eric said again. “We’ll find a time to work with Jojo and Prince Albert. We’ll get them straightened out.”
