Free Horse Feathers by Bonnie Bryant Page B

watched attentively, silently cheering her friend on as she went through the same routine at a walk.
    “That was great,” she said when Carole dismounted and joined her at the edge of the ring.
    “I think that’s good for today,” Max said. “Who brought the treats?” The riders immediately moved forward to give Clara thank-you pats and a few piecesof carrot. Clara lapped up the attention, enjoying her queenly status.
    In exchange for being able to ride Clara, all the students were required to help take care of the large mare, before and after class. That included a rubdown, mucking out her stall, providing fresh hay and water, and cleaning her tack so that it would be ready for the next lesson.
    The riders split the duties equally among them, rotating with each lesson to make sure that everyone got a chance to do the more favorable chores, such as bathing Clara, as well as the not-so-favorable chores, such as mucking out her stall.
    Today it was Lisa and Carole’s turn to make sure that Clara was properly cooled out. After pulling off the equipment, they led her to the wash stall and hooked her up to the cross-ties. They readied their sponges and buckets, then simply stared at Clara’s huge head, which was several feet above theirs.
    “I think we’re going to need a ladder,” Lisa joked.
    But the moment Lisa lifted her arm, Clara gently lowered her head, allowing Lisa to reach the top of her neck. The mare sighed contentedly as Lisa swept the cool sponge down the length of her sweaty neck.
    Lisa laughed. “I think she likes this.”
    When they’d finished bathing her, the girls relaxed by leaning against the mare’s stall, contemplating Clara’s shiny coat. Clara returned their gazes and nickered her thanks.
    Carole smiled and said, “I wish we had more time to practice. It’s going to be pretty tough to beat Veronica now.”
    “You’re probably right,” Lisa said. Once Veronica set her mind to something, nothing would stand in her way. And certainly not anything as meager as the expense of hiring a private coach.
    “Well,” said Lisa, trying to look on the positive side, “we have something that she doesn’t.”
    “What’s that?” asked Carole, confused. She couldn’t think of anything that Veronica didn’t have.
    “We have Clara,” said Lisa, smiling.
    “You’re absolutely right,” Carole agreed. “Wherever Veronica is taking her lessons, she can’t possibly have as great a horse as Clara.”
    As if understanding Carole’s words, Clara nickered and nuzzled the top of her head. The girls laughed, reaching up on tiptoe to hug the mare’s thick neck.

M EANWHILE , BACK AT Stevie’s house, two more goslings had hatched and were impatiently waiting to be fed.
    “Five and Six,” said Stevie. “Okay, you guys—or girls …” She paused, realizing she had no idea what sex the goslings were. That would have to wait until she knew a little more about the anatomy of a goose. To be safe, she settled for
little goslings
so as not to offend any of her new charges. “Into your new house, little goslings.”
    As Stevie opened the incubator to remove Five and Six, she noticed that two more eggs were beginning to wiggle. She placed Five and Six in the brooder, doing aquick check on the goslings that had been born the night before. To her surprise, two were missing. As far as Stevie could tell, it was Numbers One and Three—the same two that had escaped the night before to cuddle up to her feet.
    “All right, where have they gone now?” Stevie asked the other goslings. They all stared at her blankly as if to say,
How would we know?
    “A lot of help you guys are,” Stevie grumbled good-naturedly. She glanced around her room, wondering where to start. With the pile of clothes in the corner maybe? It looked like a terrific hiding place for young goslings. Stevie crossed the room and lifted up her sweatshirt, only to find a pile of dirty socks beneath it. “Yeeesh.” She grimaced. “I guess I