Free Watermelon Days and Firefly Nights: Heartwarming Scenes from Small Town Life by Annette Smith

slowed down too. He didn’t feel as bad when he was puzzled by one of Josh’s jokes, because she didn’t look like she understood either. It was great that when he wanted to dig and make roads in the dirt instead of playing basketball, she kept him company in the shade. And when Trey fell asleep during the group Bible study, Maggie nodded off too.
    Maggie also made Trey’s stay at camp easier for Pancho. The two were such good buddies that Pancho didn’t have to worry about Trey feeling left out. While the guys in the cabin didn’t treat Trey bad or anything, they didn’t try very hard to include him in stuff either.

    O N THE AFTERNOON of the fifth day of the ten-day session, Doc, the camp’s horse wrangler, unwisely decided to lead Pancho and his boys on a new trail. “You fellows up to it?” Doc asked. “The horses aren’t as used to it as the other trail. Some of ’em might balk a bit. You’ll have to make ’em mind if they start to head back to the corral and the barn before it’s time.”
    Well, of course they were up to it, though they were all, except for Carl, who lived on a cattle ranch, at least a little bit afraid of the group of aged, gentle camp steeds. They wouldn’t have admitted to that for anything, though.
    “Ready?” Doc asked. “Everybody got their reins? Got your feet in the stirrups? All right. Fall in line.”
    So they did. First Doc, then Carl, Max, Lindon, and James, then Rudy, Kevin, and Josh. Trey and Ralph, riding double, brought up the rear. Maggie, of course, trotted at Trey’s horse’s heels.
    The trail didn’t appear to be anything special. No big rocks in the way. No fallen trees to jump over. Not even a creek to cross. What was the big deal?
    Not much, except that the horses, cranky in the face of change, trudged along with their ears back, pausing every few yards to snatch mouthfuls of tall growing weeds. This made for slow going with lots of stops and starts.
    “Pull on the reins, fellas,” called Doc from up ahead. “And give ’em just a little kick. That’s it. They’ll go if you show ’em who’s boss.”
    After Doc gave his instructions, Ralph and Trey’s horse—the gentlest, slowest of the bunch—suddenly took to stomping, kicking, and carrying on.
    “Whoa!” Trey yelled, holding on to Ralph with both hands. “Whoa!”
    “Ralph, pull back on the reins!” hollered Doc from up ahead. “Pull back on the reins!”
    It could have been that Trey’s heel, in spite of Doc’s careful instructions, had landed too far back into his horse’s ticklish flanks. Or maybe the horse got stung by a bee or a horsefly. Regardless of whatever caused the horse to pitch such a fit, Ralph could not get control. Trey tumbled right off the horse and into the weeds.
    “Trey, are you all right?” Doc was there in an instant, kneeling over him.
    “Trey, are you hurt?” Ralph too was off the horse.
    Though he was shook up, Trey was fine. He had been wearing a helmet when he fell. His hands were bloodied and skinned from breaking his fall, but other than that, he wasn’t hurt.
    “You sure you’re okay, buddy?” asked Ralph.
    “Can you sit up?” asked Doc. To the other boys, he called, “He’s all right. You guys stay on your horses. It’s okay to let ’em eat, but don’t get off the trail.”
    Trey wiped his nose on the tail of his shirt. “I don’t think I want to ride any more.”
    “No problem.” Ralph gave him a hug. “You and me’ll walk down. We’ll just lead our horse. That be okay?”
    “Uh-huh. Where’s Maggie?”
    “I dunno,” said Doc. “She’s here somewhere. Probably off chasing a squirrel or something. Maaaggie, Maaaggie, here girl!”
    She didn’t come.
    Doc called her again. Ralph too.
    Still no Maggie.
    “Hold on a second.” Pancho spotted fur in a low spot off to the side of the trail. “I think I see her. Looks like she’s hurt.”
    Doc and Ralph helped Trey to his feet. When the three of them got to where the dog was, they