Free Horse Whispers by Bonnie Bryant Page B

stall or greet her or tell her it was going to be all right. Not wanting to lose another minute, Carole thrust the wool blankets back and slipped out of her sleeping bag.
    As she brushed her teeth, Carole realized she was being a little unfair.
Somebody
would have greeted the mare and fed her and turned her out—whether it was John or Walteror Mick or one of the other wranglers of The Saddle Club or Frank himself. But Carole was sure the black mare would be afraid until she saw the only human she trusted. “I’m coming, girl,” she said aloud. “Don’t worry, I’m coming.”
    On the way to the barn, Carole saw Phyllis heading to the main house. She put up a hand but didn’t stop. Phyllis, however, had other ideas. “You’ve got to eat something, Carole,” she insisted. “After yesterday’s ride? Absolutely, positively, no ifs, ands, or buts. Come on in the house. I’ll fix you some brunch.”
    Carole wavered. She really had no choice but to do as Phyllis said. She noticed that Phyllis’s voice sounded odd.
    “I think I’m coming down with something,” Phyllis admitted when Carole asked her about it in the kitchen. “Nothing big, just a winter cold. You be careful yourself or you’ll get it, too.”
    “Can I do anything?” Carole asked.
    Phyllis thought for a minute. “Would you mind running up to the attic and grabbing the hot-water bottle? I think I’ll fill it and take a nap.”
    Anxiously Carole went to do the errand. She wanted to get out to the barn as soon as possible. But of course, anything she could do for Phyllis, she would. Up in the attic, it was hard to see. She couldn’t find the light switch, and it took her several minutes to locate the bottle.
    “Thanks a million,” said Phyllis when she returned. “Now, here, eat your cereal and toast.”
    Sick with worry, Carole gulped down a bowl of oatmeal and a piece of toast. She was about to excuse herself when she heard the gang clattering in.
    “Oh, good,” Phyllis said. “Everybody’s back from town. They’ll keep you company. Gang! Carole’s up and she’s in here!”
    As Phyllis left, explaining that she needed a nap, Stevie, Lisa, John, and Kate trooped in, carrying grocery bags. “Hey, Carole, you wanna help us unload?” Kate asked.
    “I— Yeah, sure,” said Carole.
    “Great. And then we’re going to make hot chocolate. We’re freezing!”
    Carole ran out to the pickup truck. She gathered a bundle of groceries in her arms. She looked toward the barn. She had to get out there!
    “Anything wrong, Carole?” Lisa inquired, coming out to take a final load.
    “What? Oh. No! Of course not,” Carole replied. “I’m just taking in the scene. It’s so beautiful.” With that she averted her eyes and hurried into the house.
    Lisa paused a moment to look, too. The Bar None was a glorious sight year-round. In winter it was starker. The ground was covered in snow and the mountains looked more forbidding. When it got dark—at five in the afternoon—and the coyotes started to howl, the vastness ofthe landscape was almost frightening. If a person ever stayed out there at night … Lisa shivered a little, thinking about it. For someone like John Brightstar, who had grown up out here, this territory was home. But Lisa knew in her heart that she would always feel more comfortable in suburban Willow Creek.
    “Hurry up with that bag!” Kate called. “We’ve got the milk on for hot chocolate!”
    “The milk?” Lisa asked, entering the kitchen a moment later. “I thought you used water for hot chocolate.”
    “That’s the instant kind. But Christine’s mom showed me how to make the real stuff, from cocoa powder, sugar, and milk,” Kate replied.
    “So I guess everyone has to learn cooking secrets from other people’s moms, huh?” Lisa said, glad that she wasn’t the only one.
    “Or dads,” John reminded them. “My dad makes the best pancakes this side of the Mississippi.”
    “Oh, good,” said Lisa, “then we