Katie and the Mustang, Book 2 Read Online Free

the team, and they started off.
    I walked the Mustang after the wagon, glancing back every few seconds.
    I saw the blond boy find another stone. He hefted it, then tossed it a few times, settling it into his hand. He waited until we were almost out of range, then he threw it. It hit close, sending up a little puff of dirt a foot away from the Mustang’s heels.
    He danced sideways, half rearing, as he always did when something startled him. I jumped to one side and let out the long lead rope, letting him react to the unexpected spatter of sand that had come from nowhere. Only once he quieted and I was sure I had a good hold of him did I turn to glare at the boy.
    He was laughing, half doubled over, and for an instant I hated him. There was no point in shouting an insult. The boy wouldn’t care, and it might startle the Mustang again. So I just walked after the wagon with my back straight and my shoulders squared—but I was furious . What kind of boy would do such a thing? What if the Mustang had broken free, or I had gotten tangled in the rope and he had dragged me?
    That night, the Mustang woke me even earlier than usual with his whuffling and pacing. I sighed and rubbed my eyes and got up in the dawn dusk. It was chilly, and I shivered into my shoes, then pulled on my new coat.
    I slid out of the wagon bed, trying not to make the springs creak, and went to untie the tether rope. It wasn’t light enough out to see my breath, but I knew it soon would be.
    The instant the line loosened, the Mustang took off at a trot, headed toward the mares, pulling me along. I ran with him, half awake. “Slow down,” I whispered, laughing a little at how eager he was. Then, all in an instant, I stumbled over a hassock of prairie grass and sprawled on the ground. The air went out of my lungs in a whoosh, and for a second I lay still, unable to believe it had happened. I heard the hissing sound of the long tether line, dragging through the grass—then the hoofbeats of the Mustang, free at last, breaking into a gallop.
    I scrambled to my feet and stood, shaking, unable to do anything but watch as he galloped straight past the mares and pounded off into the near dark until I could no longer see him at all. His hoofbeats faded to silence. I sank to my knees and pounded my fists on the ground. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have just let go of the rope like that?
    I fought tears as I got back to my feet. I would go after him. I could ride one of the mares bareback. We didn’t have a bridle, but I could use the head-stall from the harness and knot the reins shorter.
    I turned and ran toward the wagon. I would have to wake Hiram, then get the harness bridle on one of the mares. By the time I was mounted, the Mustang would be miles away in the dawn dusk. In what direction? By the time it was light enough to see, he would be long gone. But Hiram would understand. I couldn’t just let him go like this. I couldn’t .
    One of the mares nickered, and I slowed, turning, listening, afraid to hope. The mare nickered again. Then I heard the faint sound of hoofbeats—getting louder.
    I stared into the gray light, hoping, my hands clasped together, as the Mustang galloped back into sight. He leaned into a long, sloping turn that brought him past me, then he slowed and veered toward the mares. He slid to a stop beside them and pranced in a circle.
    I started toward him. “Stand easy,” I murmured over and over. “Stand easy. I won’t hurt you; you know that.”
    He was wary. Every time he moved away from me, I stopped. Finally, he dropped his head to graze. I approached him, talking quietly. He let me walk up and put my hand on his neck, then reach down to pick up the rope. I slowly gathered it into a coil. I was so grateful that he had come back that my knees felt weak.
    â€œIf you leave, who will I talk to?” I asked him, knowing that anyone who heard me talking to a horse like