by Sue Bentley
“I guess it’s okay,” Beth said, shrugging. She couldn’t see what was so exciting about a boring old farm machine.
“Okay?” Martin gave her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding? That’s a 1952 Massey Ferguson tractor.”
Beth wasn’t impressed. “It’s kind of old, isn’t it? Does it still work?”
Her uncle chuckled. “Fergy’s going to work very well. Wait until you see her pulling a plow. She’s going to help me win the cup in the vintage class at the plowing competition in a few weeks.”
“Dad’s county champion at plowing,” Martin said proudly.
To Beth, winning things for making straight lines down a field seemed like a very weird thing to do. Don’t they watch any TV around here? she thought.
Martin saw the scornful look on her face. He blushed. “There’s a lot of skill involved in plowing, you know. Dad lets me try sometimes and I’m getting really good at it,” he boasted. “I’m going to get a license when I’m fourteen. Then I can compete, too!”
“You’re doing all right, but you’ll need a lot more practice first,” his dad said.
“I know that,” Martin said in a sulky voice.
Oliver patted his son on the shoulder. “Fergy could use a wash and brush up. She’s pretty dusty after her journey. Any volunteers?”
Martin’s head came up. “Beth and I will do it. Won’t we, Beth?”
Beth frowned. Cleaning a tractor was definitely not on the top of her “fun to do” list. It was right at the bottom, next to cleaning smelly sneakers. But Martin seemed in an unusually good mood, so she nodded.
“Okay. I don’t mind.” But if he starts bossing me around again, I’m leaving him to do it, she thought.
Beth helped Martin collect buckets, sponges, and cleaning liquid. Storm came outside and lay down with his chin resting on his paws as she and Martin started work.
“There’s all kinds of plowing, you know. Tractor-trailed, mounted, reversible. You have to be very skilled to work a plot and make perfect ins and outs,” Martin explained enthusiastically as he sponged soapy water over Fergy’s bright-red hood. “They have world championship competitions. One day Dad might be good enough to participate.”
Beth didn’t reply. She was scrubbing hard at a greasy mark on Fergy’s red grill.
“Hey! Are you listening? Or are you ignoring me on purpose?” Martin flicked soapy water at her.
“Who said that?” Beth joked and flicked water back at him.
Martin’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Oh yeah!”
Beth dodged out of the way as another sponge full of water flew toward her. “Missed!” she teased.
Laughing, they flicked soapy water back and forth.
Beth giggled as she pushed her damp hair out of her eyes and crouched behind the tractor. She was smaller than Martin and managed to avoid getting too wet, but most of her soapy flicks found their mark.
Martin’s T-shirt was soon drenched. “Right! Now you’re in for it!” He grabbed the whole bucket and lifted it into the air.
“Don’t you dare!” Beth shrieked breathlessly.
As she went to flick more water at Martin, a tiny shower of golden sparks crackled around her hand and tingled against her fingers. The soapy sponge shot out of her hand. It zoomed through the air with perfect aim and splatted in Martin’s face.
“Phoof!” Martin spluttered. He took a step backward and slipped over onto his backside, tipping the entire bucket of water all over himself.
Beth cracked up laughing. She was helpless. She glanced across at Storm who wore a wide doggy grin and wagged her finger at him, scolding him gently.
“Sorry, Beth. I thought he was going to hurt you!” Storm yapped.
Scowling, Martin slowly got up. His dark hair was plastered to his head and water was dripping off the end of his nose.
Beth tried to stop laughing at the look on Martin’s face, but her mouth kept twitching. “You should see yourself,” she gasped, holding her ribs.
Suddenly Martin burst out laughing, too. “That was a great shot—for a girl! Come on, let’s get some clean water.”
Beth went with him to fill her bucket from the outside tap. Staying at Tail End Farm was starting to feel a lot better these days.
She was amazed at Martin. This was the most friendly he’d been since she arrived. And all because they’d had a water fight and she’d beaten him. I’ll never understand boys, she thought as they finished cleaning the tractor.
Chapter SIX
Beth stood in the barn beside her aunt and watched her milking the goats. Storm was sprawled on a pile of clean straw beside the pens.
Beth sighed. It had rained almost every day since she’d been here. Heavy rain was drumming on the roof once again. “I’m getting fed up with this terrible weather,” she complained.
Emily smiled. “You learn to deal with it when you work on a farm. But the goats really hate the cold and the wet. That’s why I brought them into the b arn, b ut I’d hoped they coul d go out in their field again by now.” She looked at her niece’s sad face. “Do you want to try milking?”
“I don’t know,” Beth said doubtfully.
“Come on. Don’t be shy. Stand here. It’s not very difficult and Daisy’s a good milker,” Emily encouraged. She showed Beth how to take a firm but gentle hold and squeeze down with one finger at a time.
Beth took a deep breath and rested one shoulder against Daisy’s flank. She followed instructions, a bit awkwardly at first. To her surprise, the milk began to flow into the bucket.
“Hey! I’m doing it!” she cried delightedly.
In a few minutes Beth felt like an expert. She filled a bucket and then strained the milk into the metal churn, feeling really pleased with her success. “That was great. Maybe I’ll ask Mom and Dad if we can have some goats. It would save Dad moaning about having to dig up all the weeds and we’d have tons of milk to give to all our friends.”
“Hmm. Remember that you’d have to milk them twice a day, summer and winter, seven days a week, in all kinds of weather, just like I do,” her aunt cautioned, smiling.
Beth raised her eyebrows. “On second thought, I think I’ll stick to milk in cartons and leave the weeds to Dad!”
Her aunt laughed.
A loud triumphant braying came from the back of the barn. There was a stamping and clattering, followed by a rustling noise.
“Darcy?! What’s he doing?” Beth asked.
“It sounds like he’s jumped out of his pen—again,” her aunt sighed. “That goat’s a real menace. He’s been cooped up for too long because of all this rain and he’s got energy to spare. It’s going to be really hard to catch him.”
“Can I help you?” Beth offered.
“You could go and see where Darcy’s gone, if you like, while I close the barn door so he can’t escape,” her aunt said.
“I will find Darcy!” Storm barked, darting to the back of the barn.
Beth hurried after him. As she reached the big stack of straw bales near the goat’s pen, she spotted Darcy standing right on the very top of them.
“Look at him! He thinks he’s the king of the castle!” Beth said.
Looking down his haughty nose, Darcy snickered as if he agreed. He looked very pleased with himself for having climbed up so high.
Storm wagged his tail and then jumped up onto his back legs and put his front paws on the bottom bale. “Gr-oof!” his bright eyes flashed playfully.
“Watch out, Storm. That stack looks a little wobbly—” Beth began, but before she could finish her sentence, Darcy flexed his powerful back legs and did an almighty leap in the air, right over Beth and Storm’s heads—and then everything seemed to happen all at once.
The top straw bale shook wildly from the force of Darcy’s takeoff and slowly began to tip forward.
Beth’s eyes widened in horror. Storm had turned his head to watch Darcy land on the barn floor a few feet away and hadn’t noticed the danger. The bale was about to fall and l
and on him!
Without a second thought, Beth threw herself forward. Her fingers just touched Storm’s fluffy black-and-white fur and she managed to grab him. Holding him close to her chest Beth rolled out of the way just in time. The heavy bale crashed to the ground and she felt the rush of dusty air as it missed them both by a fraction of an inch.
Beth let out a shaky sigh of relief. Still holding Storm, she pushed herself slowly to her feet. “Are you all right?” she asked the shocked little puppy.
“Yes. You saved me, Beth. Thank you,” Storm woofed, reaching up to lick her chin.
“I couldn’t bear anything happening to you,” Beth said as she pet Storm’s soft ears. She felt a surge of affection for her tiny friend.
Glancing down the barn, Beth saw that her aunt had managed to get a rope on a subdued-looking Darcy and was leading him back to his pen. She frowned when she reached Beth and Storm and saw the straw bale on the floor nearby. “I thought I heard something fall, but I couldn’t be sure with all the noise Darcy was making. Are you okay? You’re lucky you weren’t badly hurt,” she said.
“Oh, it missed us by miles,” Beth said lightly, not wanting to worry her aunt.
“Thank goodness for that!” Emily said, relieved. “I’m responsible for you while you’re here and your mom and dad wouldn’t be very happy with me if you had an accident. I’ll get Oliver to come and fix that stack. Just let me tether this naughty goat in his pen first. He’s full of surprises.”
Beth bit back a grin. He’s not the only one! she thought.
“I’m sorry, Martin, I don’t have time to go out with you today. Maybe tomorrow. I’m planning to clear the unused part of the top field and use that for practicing plowing, but I can’t promise when I’ll get around to it,” Oliver was saying.
“Aw, Da-ad. You’ve already been out on Fergy a couple of times. When am I going to get the chance to take a drive?”
Beth sat in the window seat in the living room with Storm curled on a cushion beside her. Her uncle and cousin were in the yard outside. Their voices floated in through the open window. “Martin’s obsessed with that dumb old red tractor, even though Uncle Ollie told him it’s too big for him to drive by himself.”
Storm’s ears twitched and he gave a sleepy nod, tired out from all the excitement in the barn earlier.
Two minutes later, Martin burst into the room and threw himself down next to Beth.
“Watch it! You almost sat on Storm!” Beth complained.
“Sorry, Storm.” Martin pet Storm’s fluffy black-and-white fur absently. “Dad’s being a big pain! He won’t let me near Fergy unless he’s with me. I know I can handle driving her by myself, but he won’t believe me,” he grumbled.
Beth wisely chose to stay silent on the subject. “It finally stopped raining. Why don’t we walk into the village with Storm and Ella?” she suggested, trying to cheer him up.
Martin’s lip curled. “Go shopping? I’d rather watch paint dry. I’m going to take Ella for a long walk over the fields. By myself,” he said rudely.
Beth got the message. She didn’t bother to tell him that she was about to suggest that they go to the new sports center. “Suit yourself.” She shrugged, got up, and called to Storm to follow her.
“Where are you going?” Martin asked, frowning.
Beth turned to him and tapped the side of her nose with one finger in what she knew was an annoying way.
Martin threw up his hands, got up, and stormed out, muttering about “stupid annoying girls” under his breath.
“Oh well. Martin’s back to his usual self. His good mood didn’t last long, did it?” Beth said to Storm. “But I’m getting used to him now and I don’t mind it so much. I think he just likes complaining!”
Storm nodded, blinking up at her with bright midnight-blue eyes.
Beth changed her mind about the sports center. “We’ll go to the village by ourselves. I bet they have a pet shop that sells dog treats,” she decided.
Storm yelped excitedly, almost falling over his own paws as he bounded out of the door.
Chapter SEVEN
Emily Badby had been baking bread all morning and the whole farmhouse smelled wonderful.
Beth sat in the cozy kitchen, reading a new computer magazine she’d bought at the village shop. Storm was curled up under the table, chewing on a bone-shaped dog chew, and Beth could feel the tiny puppy’s warmth against her feet.
It had just been raining again, but a watery sun was now beginning to push through the clouds.
Suddenly the faint sound of barking and growling interrupted Beth’s peaceful morning. She tensed up, listening hard. It seemed to be coming from far away, but then the noise stopped and Beth thought she must have been mistaken. Her aunt didn’t seem to have noticed anything.
“Where’s Martin?” Beth asked.
“Up at the top field. His dad’s starting to clear it with Fergy and the old plow. Ella’s with him,” Emily replied.
Making sure her aunt wasn’t looking, Beth leaned over to whisper to Storm. “I’ll take you for a walk up there later. It’s no good waiting for Martin and Ella to come back here. Wild horses wouldn’t drag him away if Uncle Ollie’s plowing.”
There was no reply.
Frowning, Beth bent over and looked under the table. Storm was gone, leaving the half-eaten dog chew lying there.
That was odd. He’d never run off without telling her where he was going before. She got up and went to look for him.
Storm wasn’t in the living room or any of the other downstairs rooms. She went up to her bedroom, expecting to find him curled up on her blanket, but he wasn’t there either.
“Storm?” she said, beginning to feel concerned.
A faint sound came from under her pillows. Beth smiled and pulled back the top of the blanket to reveal a little black-and-white tail. “What’s this, hide-and-seek—” she began, but stopped at the sight of Storm trembling all over. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” she asked worriedly.
Storm squirmed farther into the pillows. “I sense that Shadow knows where I am. He will send his magic, so that any dogs that are nearby will attack me,” he said in a muffled little whine.
“Oh no! That must have been what I heard. We need to find you a better hiding place. Maybe the barn or . . . or . . .” Beth tried to think of somewhere safe.
“It is no use, Beth,” Storm whimpered, his deep-blue eyes as dull as stones. “Leave me here for a while, please. Any dogs looking for me may pass by.”
“All right. If that’s what you want,” Beth said. She had a sudden thought. “What about Ella? Will Shadow’s magic work on her, too?” She felt horrified that the gentle old collie might become Storm’s enemy.
“No. I have already used my magic to help her. That will protect Ella from Shadow’s evil ways,” Storm whined before he burrowed right under the pillows and curled up into a tight little ball.
Beth gently gathered his tail in, replaced the blanket, and tucked it tightly around him. No one would know there was anything under the pillow. She went out quietly, hoping that Storm’s plan would work. She couldn’t bear to think of her friend having to leave suddenly without warning.
Beth could hardly eat any lunch because she was so worried about Storm. She nibbled on a few mouthfuls of salad and cauliflower and then asked if she could leave the table.
“Are you feeling all right?” her aunt asked.
“Fine, thanks. I’m just not very hungry,” Beth replied.
Martin glanced at Beth in concern and seemed about to say something, but then he changed his mind. He finished eating and jumped up from the table.
“Why don’t you and Storm come up to the top field before lunch and see how Dad and I are doing? We’ve cleared a lot of it already. I’m going up there again now with Ella. You could come with us, if you like.”
“I might. I’ll . . . um . . . follow you up there in a minute,” Beth murmured absently.
“Whatever,” Martin muttered.
>
When he and Ella had left, Beth went into the hall with a heavy heart. She was dreading going upstairs to her bedroom. Would Storm still be here or had her friend already left forever?
Suddenly, a tiny fluffy black-and-white figure came bounding down the stairs. “Hello, Beth,” Storm barked happily.
“Storm! You’re still here!” Beth cried, overjoyed, throwing her arms around him.
Storm yapped and licked her face, his tail moving wildly. His midnight-blue eyes were as bright as a moonlit sky and he seemed completely back to his usual self. “I cannot sense any strange dogs nearby, so they must have gone away. But if they return I might have to leave at once. We might not have time to say good-bye.”
“I understand,” Beth said, hardly taking this in. She just wanted to enjoy every single moment of the time they could spend together now.
She secretly hoped that Storm would stay with her forever, even though she knew he must someday return to help his injured mother and lead the Moon-claw wolf pack.
Beth decided to talk about something else. “Do you want to go watch Uncle Ollie giving Martin some plowing practice? It’ll probably be really boring,” she said, making a face.
Storm’s cute face lit up, as it always did at any chance of a walk.
Where’s Uncle Ollie? Beth wondered as they walked toward the top field. She could see the red tractor and the plow mounted behind it, but only Martin and Ella stood beside it.
Storm was trotting beside her with his nose sniffing around on the ground.
Martin waved. “Hi! I didn’t think you’d come,” he shouted, sounding surprised and pleased.
Ella spotted Storm. She wagged her tail and trotted over, barking a greeting.
“I thought we might as well. Storm loves playing with Ella,” Beth said, smiling at the dogs.
