Free Colt by Nancy Springer Page A

shaking hand, trying not to think what he knew had to be impossible. This horse was a Christmas gift? For him? But that couldn’t be. They wouldn’t give him a horse. They knew he wanted to ride, and he couldn’t ride after the damage Liverwurst had done by trotting with him just a little. He was handicapped, and he had to remember that.
    I’m being stupid, I’m missing something. I can’t ride horseback. It was dumb ever to think I could ride horseback. Stupid even to think this horse might be for me .
    â€œCome on,” his mother urged, “open it!” She was standing close by, smiling, and Brad had his arm around her and was grinning like mad.
    Got to be some kind of joke. Try to be a good sport. Try not to cry or do anything dumb ….
    Colt had to lean against Liverwurst’s stall door while his shaking hands tore at the card. He felt weak all over.
    It just couldn’t be …
    It was.
    The card said:
    To Colt ,
    Merry Christmas !
    Happy Trails !
    THIS HORSE DOES NOT TROT !
    Love,
    Mom, Brad, Rosie, and Lauri.

Chapter Seven
    â€œWe would have told you sooner,” Colt’s mother explained to him after the hugging and laughing and sniffling and more hugging were over, “but we didn’t want to get your hopes up. We weren’t sure it would work out. It had to be a very special horse.”
    â€œMom, thank you so much.” Tears wet Colt’s cheeks, but for once he didn’t mind. “I don’t know how to thank you enough.”
    â€œThank Brad. I had never even heard of a Paso Fino.”
    Brad had gotten him Bonita? Colt looked at him, and Brad looked away, embarrassed. “It’s just that when I was in the service in Puerto Rico we used to ride these incredible little horses. They don’t ever trot, or even gallop unless you make them. They just walk faster and faster.”
    â€œI couldn’t believe it until I saw it,” Colt’s mother put in.
    â€œAnyhow, when my old C.O. moved back to Ohio, he took a few Pasos with him, and now he raises them. He always was quite a horseman.”
    Brad seemed talked out. Audrey prompted, “So after we talked it over, Brad wrote him—”
    â€œAnd I gave Daddy some of my newspaper money,” Lauri put in. “And Rosie gave him some—”
    â€œShut up,” Rosie grumbled. He looked as sheepish as his father.
    â€œAnd we asked him to find us a very gentle, well-schooled Paso at a price we could afford,” Brad continued. “Not asking much, huh? But he managed to do it.” Colt stood rubbing Bonita’s starred forehead, and Brad grinned at him like a shy kid. “Turned out he was looking for a good home for Bonita all along.” Brad pulled a much-folded letter out of his shirt pocket and passed it over for Colt to read:
    Dear Brad,
    Good to hear from you after all these years! I am glad to hear you have remarried and you’re happy with your new wife and family.
    I may have the very horse for the little guy you mention. A mare with some age on her, Bonita, a Splendifico daughter. Beautiful conformation. We thought we were going to make a show horse out of her, so she has been very well trained, but she had such a quiet disposition even as a filly that she never placed well. No brio . No fire. She’s a wonderful pleasure Paso, stays in frame under any rider, so I could have sold her to someone for trail riding, but I would have taken a licking. She’s small, too small for a big rider, and all people can think about these days is size, size, size! Anyway, I wanted some foals from her. Turned out she’s no good as a brood mare either. Doesn’t “take.” But I think she might be perfect for your youngster. She’s unusually quiet, dead safe with any rider, and smooth as silk in her gait. Give me a call and we’ll make arrangements to send her to you for a month’s trial. I’ll pay the shipping. As a