Free Ghost Rider by Bonnie Bryant Page B

table. Several of the children had spent as long looking at the photograph as they had looking at the jar. Stevie particularly recalled two girls who had invented an imaginary family and had begun playing with them in the dollhouse just as they stood at the table. Whoever won it was going to be the happiest child in Two Mile Creek. Now all Stevie had to do was be sure that everybody who wanted to enter the contest had a chance and then figure out who had won.
    No, she realized with a start. That
wasn’t
all she had to do. She had to get the dollhouse as well. She felt the blood drain from her face. How could she have forgotten? Mrs. Lonetree had had to walk over this morning. Christine had ridden her horse. Neither could bring the dollhouse. Stevie had promised to call Frank and ask him to stop by the Lonetrees’ and bring it on his way, but she’d completely forgotten. Now she was about to have a winner, and she didn’t have a prize.
    She’d spent too much time watching how excited the children were at the prospect of winning. After seeing those faces she couldn’t tell the winner he orshe was going to have to wait. Somehow she had to get the dollhouse back to the fair before the winner was announced—in exactly one hour.
    Stevie looked around for help. Everybody was busy. Carole was still taking kids on rides. Mrs. Lonetree was up to her elbows in clay, showing a group of fascinated children how to make miniature bowls. Phyllis Devine was overseeing the cupcake decorating. Kate was turning masked kids in circles so they could pin the stem on the pumpkin, and Christine was doing something with two sugarplum fairies. Nobody could help Stevie. She was going to have to do this herself. But what was she going to do?
    Stevie realized that Mr. Lonetree wasn’t there. That probably meant he was at the ranch and would be able to drive the dollhouse over to the school. It wasn’t a long distance. All she had to do was call.
    She dug into her pocket, found change, and located the students’ pay phone on the first floor of the school.
    I’m sorry. We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please try to place your call again later
.
    She checked the number. She had it right. She tried again.
    I’m sorry.…
    For how long could there be technical difficulties?
    I’m sor
—
    She couldn’t wait. She didn’t have time to wait. Shehad to do something. The only thing she could think of was to go to the Lonetrees’ house herself and hope that Mr. Lonetree would be there to bring her and the dollhouse back.
    She tucked the quarter back into her pocket. She would ride Stewball there. She knew the way. It wouldn’t take long. But she had to tell somebody what she was doing.
    She found Christine standing outside the girls’ bathroom.
    “The sugarplum fairies had to go,” she explained. “I’m waiting for them, and then I promised to take them through the horror house.”
    Stevie wasn’t sure she understood exactly how Christine had gotten to be the girls’ personal attendant at the fair, but Christine said it had something to do with a consolation prize for the costume parade. That made some sense—not much, but enough.
    Stevie explained her dilemma. “Do you think your dad’s at home?” she asked.
    “I’m sure he will be,” she said. “I’m also sure he’ll drive you back. Too bad about the phones, but it happens. Do you know the trail?”
    “Yes,” Stevie assured her. “It’s not hard to follow. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
    “I’m sure you will be, too. But it’s going to be cold. Do you have a jacket?”
    “No, just this sweatshirt,” Stevie said.
    “Well, it’s not much, but here, take my cloak. It should help some with the breezes.”
    “Thanks,” Stevie said, slipping the cloak over her shoulders. Then, when the girls’-room door opened, Stevie got a look at herself in the mirror. There she was, one blind field mouse, wearing a silvery white cloak. It seemed about right for a Halloween