Free Yankee Swap by Bonnie Bryant

decided that Merrill’s problem with jumping was that she was worried she couldn’t do it, and that she was going to look stupid in front of the class. Once she figured out that she
could
do it, she did fine.”
    “Yeah,” Stevie said. “What does that have to do with Barq?”
    “Everything,” Carole replied. “She’s somehow decided that the reason she did well today was that she was riding Barq. If she thinks that’s the main reason every time she does well, she’s limiting her own abilities in her mind. Do you see?”
    “I guess so,” Lisa said. “You’re saying that Merrill thinks Barq is the magical solution to all her riding problems, and that’s a bad thing.”
    “It sure is,” Carole said. “It’s nice to have faith in your horse, but it’s more important for Merrill to have faith in herself.”
    Stevie shook her head in wonder. “Since when did you become such a psychologist, Carole?” she teased.
    “More like a horse-ologist,” Lisa said. “But now that we’ve figured out the reason why Merrill shouldn’t buy Barq, what are we going to do about it?”
    “We need a plan,” Stevie began, a gleam coming into her eye.
    “Hold on, Stevie,” Carole said. “I think the first thing we should do is talk to Merrill. Maybe if we point out what she’s doing, she’ll see reason.”
    “Hi, girls,” a loud, cheerful voice came from the tack-roomdoorway. Simon Atherton walked in, almost tripping over the corner of a trunk in his path. “How are you?”
    “We’re fine, Simon,” Carole replied, ignoring Stevie, who was rolling her eyes. “Did you come to clean your tack?”
    “No, actually I came to borrow a currycomb,” Simon said. “You see, I stuck mine in my pocket after the last class and ended up accidentally bringing it home with me.”
    “Oh, did you forget to bring it back?” Lisa asked. She was annoyed that Simon had interrupted their conversation, but she didn’t want him to see that. After all, it wasn’t really his fault.
    “Not exactly,” Simon said, looking a little embarrassed. “But while it was home, my sister’s cat chewed it to bits. He’s a bit of a terror—we call him Fang.”
    The three girls burst out laughing. “Your sister’s cat ate your currycomb?” Stevie exclaimed. “Oh, that’s a good one!” She chuckled. “Just for that, I’ll help you find one you can use. Come on.”
    As Stevie got up and started rummaging around in the grooming trunk, Carole and Lisa exchanged glances.
    “We’ll have to figure out what to do about Merrill later,” Carole whispered.
    Lisa nodded. “I’ll talk to her tonight after dinner.”
    “M MM , THAT WAS delicious, Mrs. Atwood,” Merrill said, pushing her chair back from the dinner table. “Thank you. May I be excused? I’d like to call my parents, if that’s all right.”
    “Of course it is, Merrill,” Mrs. Atwood replied. “You’re excused.”
    “You can use the phone in our bedroom if you’d like some privacy,” Mr. Atwood added.
    Lisa looked up, her mouth full of baked potato. She swallowed fast. “Um, Merrill, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
    “All right,” Merrill said. “This call shouldn’t take too long. We can talk after that if you want.”
    Before Lisa could reply, Merrill skipped out of the dining room. A moment later the Atwoods heard her running up the stairs.
    “Merrill certainly seems to be in a good mood today,” Mrs. Atwood observed.
    “Yeah,” Lisa replied glumly, pushing the last of her potatoes around on her plate with her fork.
    A few minutes later Lisa wandered upstairs. Just then Merrill emerged from Lisa’s parents’ room, her face glowing.
    “Guess what?” she said, running to give Lisa a hug. “They said yes! They’re going to call Max tonight to see about a price. Can you believe it?”
    “Not really,” Lisa muttered, frowning. But Merrill was too ecstatic to notice.
    “T ODAY , AS YOU can probably tell, we’re going to get a little