Free The Painted Horse by Bonnie Bryant Page A

horrible things that could have happened to her class. She pushed the images away.
    They were following the path when Stevie saw something bright out of the corner of her eye. It was yellow and green and red, like Ms. Dodge’s scarf.
    “There,” she said, pointing. The policeman steered Billy under a dripping tree and past bushes whose leaves had been torn off by the hail. Ms. Dodge was sitting next to a bush, and Mrs. Martin was holding her hand. The class was standing around them in a frightened circle.
    “Stevie!” a classmate said. “You found us.”
    Stevie climbed off Billy. “Are you okay?” she said to Ms. Dodge. “I’ve been so worried about you.” It was strange, Stevie thought. Somehow she’d known that Ms. Dodge was in trouble.
    Ms. Dodge put her chin up. She was pale as a sheet, and her hair was plastered to her head from the rain, but she managed a brave smile. “I’m fine, thank you.” But then she looked miserable. “It’s my fault. I was chasing my scarf. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I fell and twisted my ankle.”
    “It’s not your fault,” said Mrs. Martin, patting her hand.
    “I’m such a fool,” said Ms. Dodge.
    Stevie remembered how Ms. Dodge had comforted her when she had felt like a jerk. “You are no suchthing,” she said, sitting on the grass next to her. “You are a wonderful person.”
    Spots of color came back to Ms. Dodge’s cheeks. Stevie could tell that she felt a little better.
    The policeman knelt next to Ms. Dodge. Gently he felt her ankle and lifted her foot.
    Ms. Dodge blinked, but otherwise she gave no sign that she was in pain.
    “We’ll have to get this checked,” the policeman said, putting her foot down. “But first we have to get you to a warm, dry place. Can you get to your feet? I’ll help you.”
    Ms. Dodge looked up at him shyly. “I think I might be able to.”
    As he helped her up, she winced and turned pale again. It was obvious that she wouldn’t be able to walk.
    The policeman looked at her thoughtfully. “Have you ever been on a horse?”
    “Me?” said Ms. Dodge. “Oh, never.”
    “There’s always a first time,” the policeman said with a grin. He turned to Stevie. “Can you bring Billy over here?”
    “You bet,” said Stevie. She went to get the horse. Only then did she notice that the hail had turned to rain.
    When Stevie brought the horse over, the policeman turned to Ms. Dodge. “I’m going to make a stirrup withmy hands. Step into it with your left foot. And then see if you can lift your injured leg over the saddle.”
    Ms. Dodge looked doubtfully at the horse.
    “You can do it,” Stevie said. “Ms. Dodge, I can tell you’re a great natural rider.”
    “You’re just saying that,” said Ms. Dodge.
    “No,” Stevie said. “I’m sure.”
    Carefully Ms. Dodge put her left foot into the policeman’s cupped hands.
    “Put your hand on my shoulder,” he said.
    Shyly Ms. Dodge did so.
    “Um,” the policeman said to Stevie, “maybe you could give her a push.”
    “Absolutely,” Stevie said. If someone had told her that she was going to do this, she would have thought he was crazy. She put her hands on Ms. Dodge’s behind and pushed her up.
    “Up you go,” the policeman said.
    “Oh,” Ms. Dodge said. She lifted her leg and swung it over the saddle.
    The class cheered. “Way to go, Ms. Dodge.” Ms. Dodge smiled.
    “If ever there was a photo opportunity, it’s this,” Stevie said. She whipped out her camera and took a picture of Ms. Dodge riding the bay horse. “We’re going to put this one in the yearbook, Ms. Dodge,” she said.

T HE POLICEMAN LED the horse around the edge of a little pond and stopped in front of a sign that said STAGE DOOR . He knocked on the door, which was opened by a man in a green parka. “There’s been an accident,” the policeman said. “These people need somewhere dry to wait for help.”
    “You bet,” said the man in the parka. Stevie figured he must be a