Saddlebags Read Online Free Page A

and coming up beside her mother, “let’s stop and regroup.”
    Lisa stopped Chocolate. Spot stopped also.
    “Whew,” said Mrs. Atwood as she fumbled for the stirrups with her feet. “Aren’t these stirrups a bit long?”
    “They’re just right for Western riding, Mom,” answered Lisa. “Try to keep your feet pressed into them. And you don’t need to kick so hard. A little squeeze will do.”
    “I see.” Mrs. Atwood found her stirrups. Without another word to her daughter, she clucked to Spot, who broke into a trot, following the others. Lisa trotted along as well, keeping a close eye on her mother.
    As the group approached the hills where Parson’s Rock jutted up out of the land, Carole slowed them back down to a walk.
    “That’s the rock I told you about,” Stevie said to her parents. “Remember the surprise birthday party my friends gave me on my very first visit out here? That’s where they held it.” They stopped to admire the huge rock that stood up out of the hills like a preacher’s pulpit.
    Then the group wound up into the hills a little way before heading back to the Bar None. Kate led the riders back. John rode beside Lisa, who checked on her mother every few minutes.
    Carole rode up beside her father, who was swaying quite a bit in the saddle. “You don’t have to sway so much, Dad,” she said.
    He tilted his hat toward her until it looked like it would fall off. Carole shook her head and rode up to take the lead with Kate. Her father wasn’t about to take this trail ride seriously.
    Soon they were back at the corral.
    “That was great!” Stevie’s father said as he dismounted. “I’ll take trail-riding in the Rockies over golf in Virginia any day. And Melody,” he said to his horse, “you’re the best durn, rough-ridin’ pony this cowboy’s ever seen.” And with that Mr. Lake gave his horse a slap on the rump. Which she took as a signal to move forward. She started toward the barn.
    “Whoa, not so fast, little lady,” said Mr. Lake, grabbing at the reins.
    “Dad,” said Stevie, “you aren’t supposed to smack a horse that hard on the rump unless you want her to
go
somewhere.”
    “Sorry, girl,” said Mr. Lake to his horse. This time he gently patted Melody on the neck.
    “I thought that ride was a piece of cake!” said Colonel Hanson.
    “I love these views,” added Mrs. Lake. “Every single place you look, the scenery’s incredible!”
    At that moment the big triangle that hung on the ranch-house porch was rung loud and long.
    “You think the views are great, Mom,” said Stevie, “wait till you taste the food!”

    L ISA ’ S FATHER PILED his plate high with fried chicken and coleslaw at dinner. He glanced at Phyllis Devine. “My compliments to the chef. It looks like the food you serve is one of the secrets to the ranch’s great success!”
    Colonel Hanson raised his glass of iced tea. “Hear, hear!”
    Everyone lifted their glasses to Phyllis, and then they all dug in.
    Lisa noticed that even her mother was enjoying dinner. Instead of her perpetual diet of salad, Mrs. Atwood had actually put a drumstick and a roll on her plate.
    After the last slices of pie were eaten and the last plates and glasses cleared from the table, the parents and daughters teamed up for a quick game of charades.
    For the last round, Mr. Lake stepped up and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He had one hand on his chest, and he wiggled his Adam’s apple with the other hand.
    “Song titles!” Lisa yelled.
    Mr. Lake nodded.
    “Figures,” said Stevie. They all burst out laughing as Mr. Lake frowned at his daughter, then began waving his hands and flapping his arms.
    “Wings!” Carole called.
    “ ‘On the Wings of Love,’ ” Stevie shouted.
    Mr. Lake shook his head and flapped harder.
    “ ‘Wind Beneath My Wings!’ ” Lisa guessed it. And they all collapsed in giggles.
    “You’re much better when you’re not making any noise, Dad,” Stevie teased.
    Mr. Lake