Crown Prince Challenged (20 page)

After her horse was resting comfortably in his stall and belatedly eating his noon hay ration, Sarah swept both long aisles in the barn. She felt incredibly tired and wanted to go home. When she finally pedaled down Ridge Road, she mulled over the best way to share the day's events with her parents. Hearing about this accident was bound to put them on edge, worrying about
her
safety. But not to tell them about it… well, she'd been down that road, and by now she knew the best policy was to be open and honest.

SUNLIGHT SPLASHING ACROSS
her face woke Sarah from a restless sleep. Raising her head to look at her clock radio, she sat up abruptly. She had overslept! She must have forgotten to set her alarm. It was Saturday, and she needed to get to the barn to feed the horses. When she looked out the window, Sarah couldn't believe her eyes. With Christmas only a week away, a surprise storm during the night had dropped a goodly amount of snow on the ground, the first of the season. The weather front must have been fast-moving, for now morning sunshine reflected brightly on the crystal white surface.

No time for breakfast,
she thought, as she hastily splashed some cold water on her face, brushed her hair into a ponytail, and grabbed some clothes from her bureau. Jeans, any old jeans, and a sweatshirt would do. She reached for the feed room key on the wall hook and slipped its chain over her head. She'd hate to face Gus at the barn if she left home without it.

Sarah hurried downstairs, where her father was in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. She went to a living room window to check on the condition of Ridge Road. It appeared to be plowed, but looked too slippery for bike travel.

“Dad,” she said, rushing back into the kitchen, “could you possibly take me to the barn? I don't think I can bike it today. And I need to be there ASAP!”

“What about breakfast?” he asked, frowning. “You've got a long day ahead of you.”

“No time for that right now,” Sarah said, dashing to the mudroom closet to find her winter boots. She pulled out her heavy jacket, a ski hat, and some warm gloves. After stuffing her paddock boots and a pair of barn sneakers into a plastic bag, she went back to the kitchen for Prince's carrots and the sandwich she had made the night before.

Her father handed her two granola bars and an orange. “Put these in your bag. You're going to need more nourishment today. And don't forget your water bottle.”

In a matter of minutes, they were headed to Brookmeade Farm in her father's Hyundai. The trees along the way were made beautiful by snow clinging to their branches, and the wreath with a large red bow Mrs. DeWitt had hung on the farm sign was frosted in white. Soon they were traveling along the farm road, the sun's rays glistening on the snow in the fields. There was no sign of the broodmares, and Sarah could imagine them enjoying their hay in the comfort of their warm stalls this morning.

“Gus must have been out first thing to plow this road,” Sarah commented.

“He's probably an early riser,” Mr. Wagner said, as he pulled up in front of the barn's main entrance. “Call me or your mother when you need a ride home. I'll be around most of the day.”

Sarah gathered her things and pushed the car door open. A blast of frigid air smacked her in the face as she made her way to the barn's main entrance. She was glad she had worn winter boots and wouldn't have to be outside in the bone-numbing cold long. The steps and walkway hadn't been shoveled, but she broke a path through the new snow and pushed the door, with its own festive wreath, open. The barn was quiet, the stillness interrupted only by the occasional sound of a horse moving in a stall.

The horses were eager to be fed, but Sarah couldn't resist going to Crown Prince's stall first, as always. He didn't sound his usual welcoming nicker in response to her soft whistle, and instead of moving to his stall door as she approached, Prince remained at the back of the stall looking out the window. She slid his stall door along its track and went into the stall. She was puzzled when he didn't turn to her, even to look for carrots. He stayed by the window.

Then it dawned on her. Prince had probably always been at Hank Bolton's farm in Florida during the winter months. He might never have seen snow before! Sarah smiled. No wonder he was fascinated by the view. He finally took the carrot she offered, but then turned back to the window.

Leaving the stall, Sarah went to the tack room to leave her bag on her trunk before hurrying to the feed room. On the way, she saw Gus coming in her direction carrying a shovel and a broom. “Good morning,” she called as they passed. Gus only grunted an acknowledgment, his eyes staring straight ahead. Oh, well. Gus loved all the horses at Brookmeade and had enough good qualities to make up for being a complete grouch.

After the horses had been fed their morning grain rations and she'd knocked hay down into their stalls, Sarah returned to Crown Prince. She was relieved to see he could tear himself away from his window long enough to clean up his grain and eat his hay. Turning him out after he'd finished eating would be fun. She was dying to see how he would react to the snow!

Paige was stamping snow from her boots when Sarah stopped by Quarry's stall on her way to begin sweeping. “It sure looks like Christmas out there,” Paige said. “We'll definitely be riding inside this morning.”

“Prince was all bug-eyed looking at the snow from his window,” Sarah said. “I think he may never have seen it before. I'm going to turn him out later so he can play in it for a while.”

“Did you hear that Nicole Jordan might be able to ride again in a month or so?” Paige asked. “Kelly told me yesterday. Nicole was lucky, you know. She had two broken ribs, but it could have been worse. If she wasn't wearing a helmet, who knows what might have happened.

Paige grabbed Quarry's halter and lead shank before opening his stall door. “Don't let Prince make any snowmen in his paddock,” she said, with a twinkle. Sarah walked away, smiling. She picked up a push broom and went to sweep the lounge, thinking about Nicole's accident. Sarah had been relieved that her parents didn't freak out and become paranoid about
her
safety when they heard about it.

After sweeping the lounge and two tack rooms, she checked her watch. Prince should have cleaned up his hay by now, and hopefully it had warmed up some outdoors. She was glad that with all the horses' body heat, the barn stayed warmer than it was outside. Prince had finished eating and was looking out his window again when she got back to his stall. “Okay, big boy, it's time for an adventure,” she said, going to him with his halter and lead. She picked out his feet and removed his winter blanket. He would be outside only a short time, and could play in the snow better without it. Grooming him could come later. After putting on her parka, hat, and gloves, she led her horse to the exit leading to the paddocks.

When Sarah slid the barn door open, Prince's head came up and he snorted loudly. Squinting in the bright sunshine, he held back when she stepped out into the snow. “Come on, don't be a sissy,” she said, as she put more pressure on the shank. With more urging, he reluctantly stepped off the cement. When his feet sank into the snow, he began prancing, lifting his feet high. Sarah couldn't help laughing. His walk became more normal as they got closer to the paddock and he became more confident in the snow.

No other horses had been turned out yet, so Sarah could choose any paddock except the one reserved for the school horses. The snow crunched under her boots and she hunched against the cold as she led Prince into the largest one on the end, a paddock that was usually taken. He'd have plenty of room to frolic in the snow there. She unsnapped his lead shank and slipped back through the gate. At first Prince stood like a statue, surveying the snow-covered landscape. The only movement she could see was the intermittent streams of vapor his breath shot out into the cold air.

Suddenly Prince half-reared, and when he came down, he bolted for the far end of the paddock, his movement beautiful to watch. He had no difficulty getting traction in the snow, and as he neared the end of the turnout, he made a large loop, which brought him back toward Sarah.
“He likes the snow!
she thought. Without slowing his pace, Prince continued circling the paddock. At one point, he cut to the center and came to a skidding halt. After pawing the snow a few times, he slowly lowered his large body into it and rolled onto his back. With his legs waving above him, he swung his back from side to side. Then he was up and off again, going even faster.

After Prince had circled a few more times, Sarah began to worry. At this rate, he would probably get sweated up, if he wasn't already, and it was too cold for that! She let herself back into the paddock and started walking toward the center, whistling softly. She fished down into her coat pocket for her last carrot, hoping that would bring him to her. Prince slowed as he went by her, and when he saw Sarah's outstretched hand with the carrot, he turned and came trotting back. He quickly scooped up the carrot. Without touching him, Sarah could see that his neck and chest were wet with sweat.

“You had quite a run for yourself,” Sarah said, as she clipped the lead shank to his halter and led him through the gate toward the barn. She usually cleaned his stall while he was turned out, but that plan had backfired. She headed to the indoor, where she could walk her horse until he was cool. Derek was riding Bismarck there when they arrived, and he walked his horse over to them.

“Looks like he did some running in the paddock,” Derek said, his eyes running over Prince. “He's pretty steamy.”

“Yeah, I put him in the big paddock, and he made it into a mini-racetrack. He acted like he'd never seen snow before. He ran for quite a while before I could nab him.” She reached up to run her hand along Prince's neck. “I'm afraid he got pretty sweated up.”

“Do you have a cooler?” Derek asked.

“That's on my Christmas list, along with some galloping boots,” Sarah replied. “It's too bad Santa can't deliver them this morning.”

Derek remained serious. “I think he needs a cooler right now, Sarah. It's pretty cold, and you don't want him to get sick. I've got one in my tack trunk.” Derek dismounted from Bismarck, tossed his irons over the saddle, and handed the reins to Sarah. “Hold him while I go grab it for you.”

While Sarah stood holding both horses, Prince kept reaching out to playfully nip at Bismarck, who shook his head, pulling back. She was glad when Derek returned a few minutes later. He tossed a maroon wool cooler over Prince's back and drew it high up on his neck, securing it in front. “You want to put this on him instead of his winter blanket, because the wetness from his body will wick up through the wool. Once he's cool and dry, you can put his winter blanket back on.”

Sarah felt embarrassed. She guessed she'd been pretty stupid to turn Prince out in the large paddock, knowing he would run. “Thanks, Derek,” she said. “I guess I totally blew this one, putting him in the large paddock. No way will I be riding him today.”

While Sarah walked Prince slowly around the indoor, she had a chance to watch some of the other Brookmeade horses being ridden there. Lindsay's class would begin soon, and cavalletti would divide the arena into two work areas. The new boarders, Jan and Brian Smith, who had moved their two Appaloosas to Brookmeade in early December, were doing some basic flatwork. Paige must have finished schooling Quarry, but Kelly was riding Midnight Jet and Tim was on Rhodes practicing some of the movements Jack had introduced in the last lesson. Sarah was relieved that Kelly appeared to be keeping her distance from Crown Prince.

When Prince felt dry beneath Derek's cooler, Sarah headed to the gate and led him back to his stall. She let him have a small drink from his bucket before putting on his winter blanket. She neatly folded Derek's cooler and was placing it with his things when Derek returned with Bismarck.

“Are you going to be here for a while?” he asked. “I can't hang around today, but I'd like to turn Bismarck out for a bit. Would you be willing to bring him in for me?”

“Sure,” Sarah said, secretly pleased to have the chance to help Derek. “No problem. That's the least I can do after you saved Prince from maybe getting sick.”

Derek untacked his horse and led him out to a paddock while Sarah finished her horse's stall. Then she swept the aisles in the barn. She was famished by the time she finished and took her lunch to the lounge. After she'd polished off her sandwich, she decided it was time to bring Bismarck back to his stall.

Stepping out into the path of packed snow, Sarah breathed in the cold fresh air. She looked for Bismarck and saw that Derek had also chosen the farthest paddock. Bismarck stood at the far end, intently watching something by the woods, his breaths coming in visible puffs. As she got closer, she could see that his body was rigid and his head high as he sniffed the wind. He moved closer to the fence, his nostrils quivering. Sarah was immediately curious. What was grabbing his attention? She slipped through the white rails and walked toward the horse.

Getting closer, she saw what Bismarck found so interesting – something she had never seen before. Coyotes were standing at the edge of the woods surveying the paddocks and stable area. Sarah immediately knew what they were from a newspaper article her father had pointed out not long ago. It had said Yardley's police chief was concerned about the growing number of sightings of coyotes in town, and the newspaper included a picture of two coyotes feeding on an animal they had killed. Mr. Wagner read aloud from the article that two dogs and a number of cats were reported missing, and that everyone, especially farmers in the north end of town, should remain vigilant. A young sheep had been killed on a Yardley farm, and the chief surmised that the wild deer herd might be severely cut back.