Free Firefly by Terri Farley Page B

biggest mistake you can make,” Dr. Scott began, and Sam decided to let Gabe and the vet remain strangers for a while.
    Dr. Scott was more interested in telling her how to handle the colt, and Gabe was trying to act tough, no matter what it cost him physically.
    â€œLike we were talking about yesterday,” Dr. Scott went on, “if you’re not an equine mind reader, it’s difficult to know exactly what triggers the memory of an old fear, but seeing it is easy.”
    â€œHe’s not scared now,” Mrs. Allen said with self-assurance.
    â€œNo,” Dr. Scott said, “and he’s an easy one to read. He’ll start twitching his tail as he becomes fearful. The more scared he gets, the faster that tail switches, until it’s a blur.”
    â€œA blur,” Sam echoed.
    Dr. Scott nodded. “It’s common to horses and cattle, but in him—”
    The colt’s front hooves did a stutter step.
    â€œYeah, I’m talkin’ about you,” the vet said in a voice that verged on baby talk, then made a smooching noise and the colt moved off. “Anyway, in him, it’s like a fuse burning down.”
    Gabe gave a faint chuckle and Sam would bet he was imagining something like a round, black bomb in a cartoon, with a sparking fuse growing shorter and shorter as it burned. If Dr. Scott heard him, though, he gave no sign.
    â€œOnce he starts twitching his tail, it means he’s having those memories again. One swish and you can keep doing what you’re doing. Two swishes, get on your mark. Three, get set. Four, just get away fast.”
    Sam concentrated. That was easy enough, but she wondered what she was supposed to be doing while she was near him.
    â€œTry to end the lesson before he’s too scared,” Dr. Scott emphasized.
    â€œWhat lesson?” Sam asked.
    The vet sighed. “That people are kind, that they won’t hurt him. In fact, it’d be good if he started to believe people will even help him if they can. Then we’ve gotta hope the family he goes to reinforces the lesson.”
    The vet cleared his throat and continued in ano-nonsense tone. “You want to work him no more than fifteen minutes at a time, but try to get in two hours per day.”
    Sam nodded. That didn’t sound very hard. In fact, if Mrs. Allen didn’t make her do any other chores, it would almost be a vacation.
    In the corral, the horses had all come to a stop. Although the three saddle horses stood side by side facing the colt and he was a few steps away from them, all four animals’ heads drooped in relaxation.
    â€œSo maybe I shouldn’t do anything that makes his tail swish,” Sam suggested.
    â€œWell, we have to press him just a little bit if he’s going to learn anything.” Dr. Scott’s words came out reluctantly. He pushed his black-rimmed glasses firmly up his nose. “It’s kinda like this: Working with that colt is like watching a teakettle, and we want to keep him at a simmer. You know what that is?”
    Sam did, but it was kind of hard to explain. “It’s like, hot, but—sort of just before a boil?”
    â€œExactly!”
    Dr. Scott jabbed an index finger her way. Again the colt startled. He sure was focused on the vet, Sam thought.
    Behind her, Sam heard Gabe make an exclamation. She didn’t hear exactly what he said, but she guessed he’d just now seen the colt’s burned face.
    â€œSo, I should end his lessons before he reaches a full boil?” Sam asked the vet.
    Dr. Scott hesitated for a second, then said, “Absolutely.”
    Sam nodded. She understood.
    After the Phantom’s capture and abuse by Karla Starr, Sam had mended her friendship with the stallion slowly and carefully.
    Jaw jutting, Dr. Scott touched Sam’s arm and guided her a few steps away from Mrs. Allen and Gabe.
    â€œWhat?” she asked.
    The young vet looked angrier than she’d ever seen