High Horse Read Online Free

Lisa said, “and I’m supposed to work on characterization.”
    “Well, there will be plenty of characters on this trip,” Stevie said, thinking of Veronica.
    “I’ll be busy, too,” Carole said. “Max has given me a Big Sister/Little Sister project. I’m going to be looking after Jackie and Amie, helping them tack up their horses and stow their gear. I probably won’t be riding as much with you two.”
    “I might be busy, too.” Stevie had a gleam in her eye.
    “Really?” Carole said, elbowing her friend. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with Phil’s coming along—would it?”
    “Now, Carole,” Stevie replied innocently. “What on earth would give you that idea?”

H ORSES WERE NEIGHING and pawing the ground. Riders were frantically checking supplies. The youngest riders were running back and forth like overexcited puppies.
    Stevie knew the pandemonium was normal. Trips always seemed to start this way. At the moment it looked as if Horse Wise would spend the entire weekend at Pine Hollow trying to get organized.
    The Marstens’ horse van pulled into the parking lot. It wasn’t a fancy van—Phil liked to joke that it had four colors: red, white, rust, and mud. But Stevie was glad to see it. She walked over to the driver’s side.
    “Hello, Stevie,” Mr. Marsten said. “Ready for the overnight?”
    Stevie nodded. “Yup. My horse is loaded; my gear is stowed; and I’m ready to go.”
    Phil got out of the passenger side, looked at the confusion, and said, “My Pony Club is the same way. We always get off to chaotic starts.”
    “Isn’t it exciting?” exclaimed Stevie. “I can’t wait to get started.”
    Phil gave her a warm smile. “Me either,” he agreed. Then he went around to the back of the van, let down the ramp, and eased Teddy along it. Stevie was impressed. Horses never like walking backward, especially into a crowded scene like this one, but Phil kept Teddy calm by talking to him in a low voice.
    Then Max came over and told Phil that as long as Teddy was calm, he might as well lead him directly into one of the vans that would take the horses to Silverado State Park.
    Talking softly to Teddy, Phil led him into the van.
    When Phil came out, Stevie said, “What were you saying to him? He looked so interested.”
    Phil’s green eyes were shining. “Just making conversation.”
    “Horses can’t understand English,” Stevie said. “Max is always telling us that.”
    Phil grinned. “Who says we were talking English?”
    Stevie was about to ask what language they were talking when Max came over and asked Phil to help Peter Allman sort out his tack, which had become tangled.
    Phil obliged, and Stevie looked around. Nearly all the horses had been loaded, and most of the gear was stowed. Soon the riders would be taking off.
    “Stevie,” called a nearby voice. It was Joe Novick, standing patiently with his horse Rusty. Rusty’s left front hoof was cocked forward slightly, a sign that he might have a rock stuck in his shoe.
    “I think he has a stone,” Joe said, “but I don’t want to hurt him. Do you have a minute to give me a hand?” He held out a hoof pick.
    “Sure,” Stevie replied. She took the pick and went over to Rusty and put her hand on the horse’s neck. “This isn’t going to hurt.” Rusty snorted and shook his head, but he let her touch him. Slowly she ran her hand down his shoulder and along his leg. When she reached his fetlock, she tapped it as a sign that he should raise his foot. Rusty nickered.
    “We’re going to get the stone out, and you’ll have a great MTO,” she said. Joe stood close to her, peering at Rusty’s hoof.
    “Now,” she said, gently lifting Rusty’s hoof with herleft hand. This was the moment when a horse could panic. “We’re going to put the hook in here,” Stevie said to Rusty. “Very gently.”
    Stevie turned to Joe. “A horse who’s having his hooves picked is a lot like a human being at the dentist. He’s nervous to