“She’s probably worn out,” Ben stated. “I’ll bet she tried to get loose before, and she’s tired now.”
“That’s a good guess. So she needs a reason to move,” Grandma declared. “The tide will come in soon.”
Willa knew what that meant.
The water would get deeper, and it would be even harder to get the mare out!
It was nearly an hour later, and the girls had come up with a plan.
“It has to work,” Willa said as she watched Mr. Starling approach. “It just has to.”
In his outstretched arms, Mr. Starling carried the foal. It was slow going, as the pony was heavy. He sloshed through ankle-deep pools, headed straight for the group.
The mare had not tried to move since they had first arrived. The water had risen over her knees. While they had waited, they had poured fresh water into their hands so she could drink. Even though she was surrounded by it, the seawater was too salty to quench her thirst.
She seemed even more tired than before, but her ears pricked forward when the stranger came close with her foal in his arms. She lifted her head and nickered a friendly greeting.
The foal returned the call, his nostrils flaring.
Willa clicked her tongue once again, hoping the paint pony would try to get herself unstuck.
“Right here, Dad,” Sarah directed. The kids had decided where the foal would be safest. He needed to be away from the water, but he also needed to be close to his mother.
Mr. Starling lowered the foal onto its four wobbly legs and then backed away. Sarah and Chipper joined him, next to Grandma.
Ben got down on his knees and wrapped his arm around the foal. “I know you want to be with her, but you can’t go in the water,” he said.
Willa stayed with the mare, loosely holding on to the lead. The pony stretched out her neck, but the foal was too far away. The foal reached out its neck as well.
“Come on, girl,” Ben said.
The foal whinnied again, the pitch higher. The mare seemed content to stay where she was.
“What if we took him away?” Willa asked. She thought about how hard it would be to have something you love, and then deal with the idea of not having it. “She might try harder if she thought we were leaving with him.”
“Nothing else is working,” Grandma said, sounding discouraged.
“I think it’s worth a shot,” Mr. Starling said.
As soon as Mr. Starling lifted the young colt, it started calling out. Mr. Starling turned and took several steps away.
The foal’s mother raised her head and whinnied, shrill and long. Fear flashed white in her eyes. “Come on,” Willa said, putting pressure on the lead. The mare whinnied louder. Then Willa could see the pony’s muscles tighten. Her hindquarters rounded as she strained. Her whole body seemed to pitch forward, and one of her back legs escaped the water with a splash.
“That’s it, that’s it,” Willa said as one front leg surged out of the muck. “Keep coming.” The next steps came easier, and soon the pony climbed onto the grassy ground next to Willa. She stumbled, pulling her way to her foal.
Mr. Starling moved quickly. As soon as the foal was back on his own feet, the weary colt walked to his mother. They touched noses, and the foal rested briefly under the shelter of his mother’s neck, then ducked under her belly to drink milk.
“Well, that was lucky,” Grandma said. “Wasn’t it?”
“Lucky indeed,” Mr. Starling agreed. His cheeks ballooned with air as he slowly exhaled.
“That should be his name,” Sarah said. “Lucky.”
Willa liked it. She thought it suited the sweet foal.
But she knew luck had had nothing to do with it.
Chapter 10
LUCKY AND HIS MOM WERE reunited. The tiny foal flicked his fluffy tail as he trotted around the mare. Then he approached the four kids, eagerly sniffing their hands. “He’s so friendly now,” Chipper said.
“It’s because she’s here. Now he feels safe and can explore,” Sarah explained to her brother.
Before long, Grandma told everyone they needed to head back to the roundup site.
“Can’t we just leave them here?” Ben asked Grandma quietly. “She looks so tired. And Willa and I have to go home soon.”
Willa had been thinking the same thing. The low sun was casting long shadows, which meant the afternoon was nearly over.
“It has been a long day for them, but they need to go back,” Grandma said. “It’s safer for them to be with the herd. And we need to make sure Lucky and his mom don’t get stuck again, especially since they’re so tired.”
Willa led the mare, keeping close to Grandma and Mr. Starling, who took turns carrying the foal. Back at the paddock, Grandma and one of the other vets examined the young colt and his mother. They needed to confirm they were both okay. It had been a difficult day.
Once the checkup was over, Grandma took the halter off the mare. The wild pony immediately gave her head a good shake, her mane flopping from side to side.
“I’m satisfied. She seems good,” Grandma said, closing the gate. She then turned to the kids, who had been anxiously waiting. “You all should be proud of yourselves. You did fine work.”
Only now did the Starlings and Dunlaps realize they were shivering. The late-day sun had not dried their clothes. Their shoes were like sponges, but they had not noticed until now.
In the boat on the way home, Willa felt the worry of the day. Even with the sea air streaming past her face, her head and shoulders were still heavy.
Willa and Ben shared a silent glance. She knew they were both thinking of their parents and the inn. They had wanted to be home by now. They had wanted to be there before the guests arrived. But the sun was setting. The sky looked like different-colored jewels. The inn was probably already full.
“Funny,” Grandma said, talking over the motor. “I was taking you two to Assateague so you could get a break from all the work. But you found an ever bigger project.”
Willa just hoped Mom and Dad had not run into even bigger projects at home, too.
There were few words during the car ride home. Willa felt anxious as they neared the house.
“Thanks again,” Grandma said. She stopped in front because the driveway was full of cars. “Want me to come in?”
“No,” Willa answered quickly, already stepping from the truck. “We’ll be fine. Thanks.”
“Yeah,” Ben said. “Thanks, Grandma.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “The place looks great.”
Willa stood looking at the inn from the street. All three floors were glowing. A warm golden light shone from the windows. It looked pretty and peaceful from the outside, but Willa wondered what it was like inside.
Willa put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and they started walking up the driveway. They heard a door slam and were surprised to see Mrs. Cornett hurrying out the kitchen door.
“Well, hello, kiddos,” she said, tucking a straw basket under her arm. “Just making a drop off for tomorrow morning. Congratulations on the inn.”
“Thanks,” Willa murmured, and she quickened her pace. When they passed the front porch, they saw Ben’s handmade sign strung across the just-fixed front steps. WET PAINT.
Willa squeezed Ben’s shoulder.
As they neared the kitchen door, Willa saw something move in the shadows.
“Hi, guys!” It was Katherine Starling, Sarah and Chipper’s sister, who was helping in the kitchen. “Welcome back. Your dad just sent me out to cut some herbs.”
“Do you need help?” Willa asked.
“Nope, I’m all set,” she said. “They were all marked and everything.”
Willa blushed, realizing she had marked the herbs. Ben stepped up and opened the door. Willa gave him a hopeful smile as they followed Katherine inside.
“Willa! Ben! I’ll be right back,” Mom called as she rushed into the dining area, a full plate in each hand.
“Mom looks nice,” Ben whispered to
Willa. Willa thought that Mom looked like Mom, but without the paint-splotched sweatshirt and wad of marked-up lists stuffed in her pocket.
“Hi, kids,” Dad said, hugging them both from behind with his oven mitts on. “Are you hungry?” Dad’s face was smudged, but his smile was bright.
“We saw Mrs. Cornett,” Willa said, still confused by all the activity. “What was she doing here?”
“Oh! She’s my produce supplier,” Dad exclaimed. “At least for now. After you brought back her eggs and radishes and peas, I called her. She used to run a farm, and she has more veggies than she can eat.”
“Isn’t that great?” Mom had returned and chimed into the conversation. “And Katherine’s amazing. Thanks for thinking of her, you guys.”
“Sure thing,” Ben said, snatching a cube of bread from a baking sheet on the counter. “Yum,” he said, and grabbed another.
“Corn-bread croutons,” Dad said. “I made them from that batch that overcooked yesterday. It was a good idea, if I do say so myself.”
Willa took a bite. Buttery and crunchy. Pretty good for a burnt batch!
“You two must be starved.” Mom tucked a strand of hair behind Willa’s ear. “Where do you want to eat? Here, in the kitchen. Or in the main dining room, so you can see Misty Inn all up and running?”
Willa looked toward the hallway that led to the dining room. It was lit with the same warm glow she had seen from outside. “I don’t know, Mom. We’re pretty dirty,” she said, looking at her damp shoes.
“Don’t be silly,” Mom answered, wrapping Willa in a one-armed hug. “We are a family-run inn, and our restaurant is the Family Farm. I think it’s okay that you’re a little dirty.” She lifted two plates from a stack and two sets of silverware, rolled up in a napkin. “Wash your hands and meet me at the table.”
“I’ll send you the best dish, for my two best customers.” Dad waved at them with his spatula and turned back to the stove top, which was full—full of pans that were sizzling, boiling, and simmering with good smells.
Willa and Ben sat down at a small table by a window. There was a view of the field. The night was clear and warm, and Starbuck and Buttercup were out. They looked at home.
“I hope Lucky and his mom are okay,” Ben said. He placed something on the table. It was the old coin that he had found on Assateague. It was still crusted with sand in places, but the shiny parts glinted in the candlelight. Willa wanted to ask Ben if he had made a wish, but she told herself it didn’t really matter.
“I hope so too,” Willa agreed.
The dining room was full. The other four tables all had guests. Everyone was talking and eating and smiling.
“Look, place cards,” Ben said, pointing. “With our names.”
Willa hardly even remembered making the practice cards with their names; Mom must have found them. Willa looked around. The room really did look amazing. She had been so busy, she hadn’t realized just how much they had all done. But now she could see the signs of all their hard work.
Katherine brought out salads with ripe strawberries, snap peas, and corn-bread croutons. Then she came back, this time with fresh-squeezed lemonade.
“Wow, this place is nice,” Ben said.
“Yeah, it is,” Willa agreed. It felt cozy. It felt welcoming. As she lifted her glass, she noticed Mom and Dad standing in the doorway to the kitchen. They had lemonade too. “Turn around,” she told Ben.
Ben did, and then the Dunlaps all raised their glasses and took a sip.
The lemonade was just how Willa liked it, not too sour or too sweet.
“Here’s to Misty Inn,” Ben said.
“And to our home,” Willa added, and they both took another sip.
KRISTIN EARHART grew up in Worthington, Ohio, where she spent countless waking and sleeping hours dreaming about horses and ponies. Eventually she took riding lessons and had her own pony . . . then her own horse. They were two of the best friends a girl could have. These days she lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and son, who are also her good friends. She has a sweet and surly cat—but no horse, at least for now.
Marguerite Henry’s Misty Inn is inspired by the award-winning books by MARGUERITE HENRY, the beloved author of such classic horse stories as King of the Wind; Misty of Chincoteague; Justin Morgan Had a Horse; Stormy, Misty’s Foal; Misty’s Twilight; and Album of Horses, among many other titles.
Learn more about the world of Marguerite Henry at www.MistyofChincoteague.com.
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#5 A Forever Friend
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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First Aladdin hardcover edition January 2016
Text copyright © 2016 by The Estate of Marguerite Henry
Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Serena Geddes
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The text of this book was set in Century Expanded.
Library of Congress Control Number 2015957269
ISBN 978-1-4814-1423-4 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-1422-7 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4814-1424-1 (eBook)
Finding Luck Page 4
