Gift Horse Read Online Free Page A

scary noises.” As if to prove her point, a nearby group of Herefords bawled and bucked, protesting their loading into an unfamiliar cattle truck by their new owners.
    In the horse pen, the chestnut whirled to the far side of the corral. The other horses followed, snorting.
    â€œProbably deaf,” Dad grunted.
    â€œOr cow-smart,” Mr. Fairchild suggested.
    Sam’s spirits soared, but Dad looked at the other man as if he were a traitor.
    â€œLook at his conformation, Dad. He looks like a Percheron, doesn’t he? What do you think, is he about seventeen hands tall?”
    Dad shrugged. Sam noticed he wasn’t saying yes to anything.
    â€œHe’s big, but not fat. He’s muscular, and that wide, deep chest…” Sam paused at the gelding’s low nicker. He looked right at her and she imagined he was thanking her. “All his good points will show as soon as I get him washed and brushed and put him on better food.”
    When Dad put his hands on his hips, Sam knewhe was still set on discouraging her. “There are at least three things wrong with your idea, Sam,” Dad said. “First, you’ve got no money to buy him. Second, even if you were, somehow, high bidder, you’ve got no way to haul him home. And third, who’d buy him? What use is there for big horses like that? Folks who farm use machinery, not draft animals.”
    â€œI’ve heard,” Sam ventured quietly, “that they’re really good for logging. They do less damage to the forest and they can get in places where machinery can’t.”
    Sam realized she’d been holding her breath while Dad made what was, for him, a very long speech. Every second, she expected Mr. Fairchild to nod and say, “Your dad’s got a point.” But Mr. Fairchild didn’t do that. He just turned to Sam, waiting for her response.
    â€œThis is what I’d do,” she said, wishing for a drink of water to ease her tight throat. “I’d use my college money—” Sam held up a hand to stop Dad’s protest. “Only the part from the reward.”
    â€œI remember hearing about that,” Mr. Fairchild said. His smile crinkled the skin around his blue eyes. “You identified that stallion who’d been stealing mares from local ranchers, right? Good work.”
    â€œThanks,” Sam said, watching Dad.
    He was looking up a little, as if adding and subtracting in his mind. Sam knew there was money to spare. Even though she’d earned the reward at thebeginning of the school year, she’d only spent a little on a present for her friend Jake, and a little more on improving River Bend’s well pump. What was left should be more than enough to buy Tinkerbell.
    â€œAs soon as I sell him, I’ll put the money right back in my account,” Sam promised. “I bet it will be a lot more than I take out.”
    â€œAnd how are you planning to get him to River Bend?” Dad asked.
    For a second, Sam was stumped. They only had Dad’s pickup truck and no one would be foolish enough to put Tinkerbell in the bed and actually try to drive. And Mike and Ike had proven Tinkerbell was too tall for a normal horse trailer.
    â€œMy horse van might be available,” Mr. Fairchild said.
    â€œDuke, what are you thinkin’?” Dad asked.
    In spite of his silver-gray hair, Mr. Fairchild looked young as he turned his wide blue eyes on Dad. “I’m just saying I keep it on hand for customers who need it. Obliging customers is good business.”
    Before she lost her advantage, Sam rushed on.
    â€œAs for a buyer, I probably wouldn’t talk to a farmer, because I don’t know any. But think of using him as a roping horse, Dad. He’s even bigger than Tank, and haven’t I heard you say Tank is like an anchor when you rope from him?” Sam took a breath. Now that she’d started, a dozen pictures of Tinkerbell in action flashed across