Free Western Star by Bonnie Bryant Page B

intention of going out,” Frank said. “I want to get to town to talk to the sheriff about the breaks in my fence and the missing horses from my herd and Westerly’s. Something’s up and I think the local law needs to know.”
    A look of concern crossed Phyllis’s face. “The weather’s so unpredictable. Can’t you do this by phone?” she asked.
    “I think it’ll be better in person,” Frank said. “I talked to Westerly earlier. He wants to go with me. I’ll take our truck. I promise I’ll drive carefully.”
    “In these conditions, I don’t think you’ve got any choice,” Phyllis said. “We’ll see you later.”
    He bundled up, gave Phyllis a kiss, and ducked out the door, pulling his hat down over his ears.
    “Let’s see if we can’t finish the tree before he gets back,” Kate said. “That’ll be a nice welcome.”
    The Saddle Club agreed.
    Carole was making a pattern of two cranberries and three popcorns, then two cranberries and so on. She liked the look of the contrasting colors.
    “Nice,” said Gary.
    “Thanks,” Carole said without pausing in her work. “Would you like to try?”
    “Sure,” he said, sitting down on the floor next to her. She put her own strand down for a minute and found a needle and some thread. She handed them to Gary. He looked mystified.
    “Would you like me to thread it for you?” she asked. Gary nodded a little bashfully. Carole pulled a length of thread off the spool.
    Stevie made a strangled sound in her throat. Lisa knew exactly what it was. Stevie was thinking what a wimp Gary was! He couldn’t even thread his own needle! And was that really Carole Hanson doing it for him? Lisa glared at Stevie. The Finnegans were in the VIP Suite and they couldn’t be rude to important guests. Stevie saw Lisa’s look and swallowed her snort.
    “Here, now you knot it like this and then it’ll hold. Just poke the needle through the berry,” Carole was murmuring to Gary.
    She demonstrated her technique, giving Gary an extra warning about being careful not to break the fragile popcorn. Lisa gave Stevie a dirty look, just in case. Stevie bit her lip.
    “Ouch!” Gary cried.
    “Oh, sorry. I forgot to tell you not to hold your finger on the other side of the berry,” Carole said solicitously. “Are you okay?”
    “What’s the matter, Gary?” Mrs. Finnegan asked from across the room.
    “It’s my finger,” he said. “I pricked it with a needle.”
    “Did you hurt yourself?” his mother asked. There was a great deal of concern in her voice, much more concern than any of the girls—even Carole—thought a needle prick warranted.
    He examined it. Lisa could see a tiny drop of blood where he’d pierced his skin.
    “I think I’m okay,” he said.
    “What are you doing with a needle?” Mr. Finnegan asked sharply.
    “Making decorations,” Gary said. “Or at least I
was.
”
    “You can’t use a needle, Gary,” Mrs. Finnegan said.
    “Sure he can,” Carole said. “He was doing a pretty good job of it, too, until he stuck himself.”
    “No, I mean you
may
not use a needle,” said Mrs. Finnegan. “It’s too dangerous.”
    Dangerous
? What was dangerous about a needle? Lisa wondered. Did Gary have some rare disease or something?
    “Your guitar-playing is much too important to risk for the sake of some tree decoration!” Mrs. Finnegan declared.
    Lisa could barely believe her ears. And some people thought
her
parents were too protective! She couldn’t wait to hear what Gary was going to say to his motherabout that! His response turned out to be as surprising as his mother’s reaction.
    “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t thinking, Mom,” he said. And he put down the needle.
    What surprised Lisa even more was Carole’s reaction to the whole thing.
    “Oh, Gary!” she gushed. “I should have known better. I’m sorry, Mrs. Finnegan. It was my fault. I just forgot to show him how to hold the berry, and then—”
    “It’s okay, Carole,” Gary said. “No