Free Flying Horse by Bonnie Bryant

are good, accepted, and appropriate.
    “But Stevie, there are different ways to teach and learn just about everything. The method I’m talking about—natural horsemanship—is really only a slight variation on what Max is teaching you, but it’s a variation I really like.
    “The other important thing to remember is that there is a big difference between disciplining a horse that already knows correct behavior and trying to teach a horse correct behavior in the first place. I think natural horsemanship is an easier way to train horses—easier on the horse and easier on you.”
    Denise looked at the wild herd thoughtfully. “I know I shouldn’t do this,” she said. “But let me try to show you what I mean.” She began to walk very slowly toward the nearest pony, a dark bay mare grazing a bit apart from the rest of the herd. Ever so slowly, The Saddle Club followed.
    The stallion shifted his weight back and forth a few times before deciding that these strangers didn’t pose a threat to his mares. He dropped his head and began to eat. A ripple of relaxation went through the band, and they allowed the girls to come close.
    “Easy,” Denise murmured to the bay mare. She moved slowly up to the horse’s shoulder. “Good girl.” Denise held her hand out for the horse to sniff, thencarefully brought it up and began to rub the pony on its forehead. The mare looked surprised, but not alarmed. “Good girl,” Denise repeated.
    She brought her hand over the pony’s poll, the area between its ears, and began to rub its neck as well, down the underside and then under the thick, rough mane. With her other hand she began to stroke its withers and back. The mare turned her head and blew out thoughtfully.
    “She isn’t frightened,” Carole whispered. “She doesn’t seem wild at all.”
    “Exactly,” whispered Denise, a note of triumph in her voice. She moved her hand down the mare’s flank. The mare shuddered and stepped away. “Easy, good girl.” Denise returned to rubbing the mare’s forehead, withers, and neck—all places she obviously enjoyed.
    “Let me try,” Carole said. Imitating Denise, she held her hand beneath the mare’s nose and then began to rub its forehead. “She does like it! Lisa—”
    Lisa rubbed the mare’s forehead, too. She looked over at Stevie, but Stevie shook her head. Clearly Stevie still wasn’t impressed by natural horsemanship.
    “I’ll show you something else,” Denise said softly. “A really easy way to get a horse to pick up its feet is by squeezing its chestnuts. Watch.” She gently ran her hand down the mare’s leg and squeezed on the littlepatch of hairless skin that all horses have on the insides of their legs. The mare lifted her foot.
    “Good girl!” Denise praised the mare. “And see, she’s probably never picked up her foot on command before,” she told The Saddle Club. “Let’s try it with a back leg.” She repeated her gentle squeeze. The mare hesitated, putting back her ears and tensing her haunches. Denise immediately let go of her leg and rubbed her neck some more. “You’re okay, good girl.”
    “This is silly,” Stevie said. “I know how to pick up a horse’s foot. You do it like this.” She put her shoulder against the mare’s hip, ran her hand softly down the mare’s back leg, and pulled up on her foot. The mare lifted her hoof a few inches from the ground, then waved her leg wildly, trying to get away.
    Stevie held on. Whenever a horse—Belle, Topside, or any of the other Pine Hollow horses—tried to pull its foot, the person was supposed to hold on, she knew. The horse was just misbehaving.
    The mare squealed in panic. She kicked Stevie sharply in the leg, wheeled around, and ran for the woods. The rest of the band, frightened, followed her. The herd disappeared with a thundering of hoofbeats, and the only sound in the clearing was Stevie crying out in pain as she clutched her leg.

T HEY CLUSTERED AROUND her. Stevie was holding her