Free Stable Farewell by Bonnie Bryant Page A

Carole as the woman leaned over to run a hand down Garnet’s leg.
    Obediently Garnet picked up her hoof, as she had been taught to do when someone squeezed her foreleg. Instead of examining the horse’s hoof, the woman dropped the leg like a hot potato. “Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed. “She’s trying to kick!”
    “Is there something wrong?” Carole asked anxiously. She thought she had heard something about kicking, but Garnet was a good-natured mare, and that was one vice she definitely did not have.
    “Wrong? Oh, no. I don’t think so. She seems fine to me.” The woman gave a weak smile. “Did I mention that I also ride sidesaddle?”
    “No, you didn’t! Wow, I’ve always wanted to learn,” Lisa said. “Here, why don’t you brush Garnet a little to get to know her.”
    The woman stared at the currycomb Lisa handed her as if it would bite. “Oh, right, sure—good idea.”
    Stevie and Carole exchanged glances: Something was fishy about the woman. First she’d freaked out when Garnet picked up a hoof, and then she didn’t seem to know what to do with a currycomb. It didn’t mesh with the experience she claimed to have. And anyway, why would anyone as good as she made herself sound be interested in anice, normal horse like Garnet? If the woman could do all the things she said she could, why wasn’t she out looking for some wonder horse? And, Carole thought suspiciously, why was she attempting to use the hard rubber currycomb on Garnet’s face?
    All during the demonstration ride, Carole tried to figure out what was strange about the woman. Carole didn’t pull any tricks while she warmed Garnet up, although she didn’t try to make Garnet look spectacular. She just went through the normal walk, trot, canter, and a few low jumps before handing over the reins.
    As soon as the woman got on, all became clear: She could barely ride. She was either horrible—or a stark beginner. She was completely ham-handed, she leaned on the reins for balance, and her legs flopped everywhere. When she posted to the trot, she rose way too high in the saddle and stayed up forever.
    “You can see half of Pine Hollow between her seat and the saddle,” Carole whispered to her friends.
    “Yeah, isn’t that what they call hang time?” Stevie joked.
    “No, ‘hanging’ is what she’s doing on Garnet’s mouth,” Carole murmured.
    Lisa looked from the woman to her friends. Suddenly it was all sinking in. She felt silly for being so trusting, butshe couldn’t have imagined that someone would be stupid enough to lie about her riding level. What if Garnet had been truly high-strung and difficult? The woman wouldn’t have stood a chance. “Guess I was a little naive about all her ‘experience,’ huh? Look at poor Garnet.”
    Stevie and Carole looked. Garnet was coping, but she was too sensitive a horse to put up with the bad handling for long. Besides, The Saddle Club knew, she shouldn’t have to. They were about to take votes on who should say something when Garnet took matters into her own hands—or hooves—and let out a frustrated buck, unseating the woman, who shrieked at the top of her lungs. As quickly as she could, she slithered back into the saddle. Then, almost as quickly, she jumped to the ground. Or at least she tried to jump, but at the last minute her toe got caught in the stirrup iron and she tumbled backward into the dirt. Stevie, Lisa, and Carole ran over to reassure her.
    Springing to her feet and brushing herself off, the woman exclaimed, “I don’t need to try her anymore—I love her! How much did you say you wanted?”
    The Saddle Club stared in shock. In their few days of showing Garnet, they had realized something for the first time, and it was alarming: People were willing to buy horses for all the wrong reasons. This woman seemed ready to buy Garnet out of embarrassment at her poor performance!Unbelievably, she had fished in her pocket and come up with a blank check.
    “You w-want