The Mystery Horse Read Online Free Page B

Morgan said. “If you want to feed her, Jessie, Benny and I will start making sandwiches for lunch.”
    â€œI’d love to,” Jessie said eagerly. She hurried to the refrigerator where Danny kept Lamby’s bottles. Since her mother had died, the baby goat had to be fed with milk supplement four times a day. Jessie warmed Lamby’s bottle under hot water from the tap, and rushed to the back door. Lamby was waiting impatiently. The moment Jessie sat on the steps, Lamby nuzzled her hand, eager to start on her bottle. Jessie patted her downy fur, while Lamby guzzled contentedly. Jessie was happy, too.
    Meanwhile, Violet was learning all about mulching.
    â€œ Mulch is such a funny word,” she said to Sarah. “I thought it would be a lot messier than this.”
    â€œMaybe you were thinking of muck. Mucking out the stalls is a really messy job,” Sarah told her. “Mulching isn’t so bad. And it keeps the weeds away.” She and Violet were spreading mulch around rows of yellow wax beans and black-eyed peas. They had just finished three rows of blueberry bushes and five dozen pepper plants.
    â€œYou mean it keeps the weeds from growing?” Violet asked.
    â€œThat’s right,” Sarah said. “On big farms, they have mechanical mulchers. They lay strips of black plastic along the ground between the plants. But Dad likes the old-fashioned way. He thinks that there’s nothing better than a mixture of grass clippings, leaves, and wood chips.”
    Violet thought about the scene in the barn the night before, and wondered if she should mention it to Sarah. Would Sarah tell her the truth about Star? She was positive that there was more to the story than Mr. and Mrs. Morgan had told her. She was wondering how to bring it up, when Sarah interrupted her thoughts.
    â€œIt’s noontime,” she said, glancing at the blazing sun that was high in the sky. “I’m ready for lunch, how about you?”
    Violet nodded as her stomach rumbled. “I’m more than ready!”
    In the meantime, Henry and Danny had been pitching bales of hay from a flatbed onto a conveyer belt that carried them to the barn loft. The square bales were much heavier than they looked, and Danny pitched one every five seconds. Henry found it hard work.
    â€œI think we’ve done enough for the morning,” Danny said. He didn’t even seem tired, and Henry wondered if he was quitting early on his account.
    â€œAre you sure?” Henry asked.
    â€œI’m sure,” Danny said, jumping down from the truck. “We could pitch hay all day and still not finish the job.”
    â€œWhy do you need so much of it?” Henry asked. As far as he could tell, there was enough hay in the loft to last forever!
    â€œIt goes a lot quicker than you think,” Danny explained. “The cows eat twenty pounds of hay every single day during the cold months, and the horses eat hay, too.” He gestured to the fields behind the barn. “It takes a whole acre of hay just to feed two of our cows for the winter.”
    â€œI understand,” Henry said, wiping his face with his bandana. He was glad that he had worn gloves. The bales of hay were spiky and had scratched his upper arms.
    â€œWe always stop working at noontime, anyway,” Danny explained. “The guests need a break and so do we.” He glanced at Henry who was rubbing his aching arms. “Don’t feel bad, Henry. My arms hurt, too!”
    When Jessie finished feeding Lamby, she discovered that the kitchen was empty. Mrs. Morgan and Danny had already passed out box lunches, and everyone was eating outside at picnic tables covered with bright red-and-white-checked cloths. They had left Jessie’s lunch on the kitchen counter—a cheese-and-tomato sandwich, a glass of lemonade, and a thick wedge of chocolate cake.
    She rinsed out Lamby’s bottle and was about to bring her lunch outside when a