Free Horse Whispers by Bonnie Bryant Page A

First she walked nonchalantly by and picked up a broken cookie. It was gone in one bite. Then she furrowed her brow and pretended to think hard. “Pastries … What a great idea,” she said aloud. She went up to the counter and ordered several. The woman began packing them into a white bakery box.
    “Oh, what are these? Free samples?” Stevie asked loudly, looking at the tray as if she’d just noticed it.
    “Yes, help yourself,” the woman said. Stevie nabbed a brownie piece and a petit four. The petit four tasted disgusting. Stevie felt gypped—and entitled to another sample.The woman’s back was turned. Stevie shoved a minimuffin into her mouth. The woman turned around.
    “Would you mind if I had a second sample? They’re so good,” Stevie said, her mouth full.
    The woman gave Stevie an odd look. “Please go ahead,” she said, staring at the muffin crumbs on Stevie’s chin.
    “Thanks, I will.” Stevie took the last remaining brownie piece. She deliberated for a moment. “You know, I ought to get one for the road, too!”
    Before the woman could protest, Stevie had grabbed the bakery box off the counter and another half cookie. “Thanks again!” she called, sprinting toward frozen foods.
    She ran smack-dab into Lisa.
    “Mission accomplished. Four eclairs, two brownies, two blondies, and assorted Italian cookies.”
    Lisa grinned. “Is that what you ate or what you bought?” she asked.
    “Who, me?” Stevie said innocently.
    Lisa rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s go find the spices.”
    “What do we need?” Stevie asked when they were standing in front of the display.
    “You’re not going to believe this, but we need all of them.”
    “All of them?” Stevie demanded. “Are you sure?”
    “Look. It says ‘all spice.’ Do you think Phyllis wants to update her spice rack?”
    Stevie shrugged. “Could be. But I think it’s strange. In fact, the whole list is weird.”
    Lisa agreed. “It is weird. Maybe she didn’t want to explain things to us because, I don’t know, she thought we’d be offended.”
    “Boy, I sure wouldn’t have been,” Stevie said. “The more explanation, the better. But you’re probably right.”
    “I just can’t see us getting one of
every
spice,” Lisa said worriedly.
    “Yeah. Let’s just get the most common ones, like cinnamon and nutmeg.”
    Lisa smiled with relief. “That’s a great idea.”
    A few minutes later they were done. Lisa glanced at her watch. “Ohmigosh! We only have five minutes to meet Kate and John!” she exclaimed.
    “Don’t worry, we’re almost finished.” Stevie grabbed the list. “I’ll go get the chicken, you get the crushed tomatoes, and I’ll meet you in line.”
    The two of them split up and dashed to their respective sections. Lisa couldn’t find any truly crushed tomatoes, but she got the most bruised ones available. Phyllis hadn’t indicated what kind of chicken, so Stevie got her favorite: breaded chicken patties. They were back in the checkout line in minutes.
    “Are you sure we got everything?” Lisa asked. She took the list back and mentally checked off their purchases. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a look of horror dawn on Stevie’s face. “What? What is it?”
    Stevie pointed wordlessly to the list.
    “I know,” Lisa said. “I’m checking to make sure—”
    Stevie was shaking her head, still pointing. All at once, Lisa got her meaning. She turned the list over. There were at least another fifteen items on the back. Lisa groaned. Stevie beat her hand against her forehead. A couple of shoppers turned around to look at them. They didn’t care. Together they grabbed the cart—and ran.

C AROLE WOKE UP to the midday sun streaming through the bunkhouse window. She yawned and shifted groggily in her bed. Then she sat bolt upright. The clock on the wall said half past twelve! She had slept nearly fifteen hours! That meant that nobody had been there in the morning to let the black mare out of her