Free Autumn Trail by Bonnie Bryant Page A

a dozen times that it would be returned in good condition. The teachers at Stevie’s school evidently were aware of the reputation the annual Thanksgiving play had among some of the students, and the woman seemed to be afraid that Stevie had some cruel and unusual punishment in mind for the props. But Stevie had finally convinced her otherwise, and she was glad. She was sure the food would add just the right touch.
    Next, Stevie began hanging up the paper streamers and assorted Thanksgiving decorations she’d borrowed from her own house and from the Atwoods’. However, she was careful to hang them only in spots where no horse could possibly reach them. The last thing in the world she wanted to have to do was try to explain to Max how one of his horses had gotten a stomachache by swallowing a cardboard pilgrim.
    After the ring was festively decorated to her satisfaction, Stevie opened a second bag, smaller than the first. This one contained the paper plates and bowls that she had bought the day before at the dime store in town.She put some empty plates on the table. Then she filled the rest of the plates and a few of the bowls with the papier-mâché food and set them on the table as well.
    “That’s the Pilgrims’ food,” Stevie told one of the stable cats, a gray-and-white tomcat named Seabiscuit, who had wandered into the ring behind Stevie and was now watching her with interest. “The other bowls are the Indians’ baskets.”
    The cat yawned and strolled away. But Stevie didn’t even notice, because Lisa, Carole, and Veronica had just arrived. In her excitement Stevie had forgotten that Veronica was coming, and for a second she felt annoyed. She wanted this to be a real Saddle Club project.
    Then she reminded herself that the purpose of this project was to spread Thanksgiving spirit. So, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, Stevie decided to accept Veronica’s presence cheerfully, just as the Native Americans had accepted the Pilgrims’ intrusion on their lands. She definitely felt much better about Veronica’s presence when she thought about it that way.
    “Hi, you guys,” she greeted them all. “You’re just in time. I have jobs for all of you. But we have to hurry. Dinner will be served promptly at four.”
    “Dinner?” said Carole and Lisa in a single voice. Then they groaned. They had both eaten so much at their families’ Thanksgiving dinners that they didn’t think they’d ever want to so much as look at food again in their whole lives.
    Stevie ignored their groans. “Lisa, Veronica, you guys go and get all the horses and tie them in a circle around the table,” she said. “Carole, you can help me fill these baskets with apples and oats.”
    “Baskets?” Carole repeated, staring in confusion at the pile of paper bowls in Stevie’s hand.
    “Stevie, when are you going to fill us in on what’s going on here?” demanded Lisa.
    “Isn’t it obvious?” Stevie exclaimed. “We’re going to put on a Thanksgiving play for the horses!”

“W E ’ RE
WHAT ?” C AROLE couldn’t believe she’d heard Stevie correctly. “Did you say we’re putting on a play for the
horses
?”
    “Right,” Stevie said with a grin.
    “But I thought you hated Thanksgiving plays,” Lisa said.
    “No, no. That’s what I was trying to explain before. It’s not the plays themselves that I hate,” Stevie said. “I guess it’s people’s reactions that I hate, like when they think that just sitting back and watching a play means they’ve celebrated the spirit of the whole holiday. But this play is going to be different, because we’ll be
in
it, not just watching it.”
    “I don’t get it,” Carole said flatly.
    But a look of comprehension was dawning on Lisa’sface. “I think I do,” she said slowly. “We’ll be doing something nice for the horses, by giving them a special feast. And by doing the play—which they won’t understand, though they might think it’s interesting—we’ll also really be