Authors: Linda Snow McLoon
With Jack making helpful comments from the rail, soon Prince was doing all the things he'd learned from Jack. After a number of transitions from walk to trot and back, Jack said, “He's not ready to canter on a small circle, so I think that's enough for one session. Ask him to halt and immediately go to his head. Don't allow him to come to the centerâalways go to him.”
After Sarah had followed Jack's suggestion, he said, “This is also the way you will change rein on the longe, by asking Prince to halt and then going to him and moving him out in the opposite direction. Next time you'll work him equally in both directions.”
Mrs. Romano clapped her hands. “A wonderful start,” she called. “But I have to drag Kayla away now. I'm glad I came at a good time to see your new horse, Sarah.”
Kayla gave Sarah a thumbs-up. “He was awesome, kid!”
“Thanks,” Sarah said. “And good luck at the show. I wish I could come with you.”
“Call me later!” Kayla called out as she and her mother headed for the parking area. Sarah knew what Kayla would want to know. She'd be anxious to learn how Sarah's parents reacted to Mr. Bolton's offer.
Sarah reached up to stroke her horse. “You were a star, Prince.” She led him to the gate that Jack opened for them.
“By the way, Sarah,” Jack said, “don't forget we have an appointment tomorrow morning at the vet clinic. It won't take us long to get there. You'll have him ready to load at nine?”
She nodded. “Of course. I'll be here before seven to feed.”
“Good. And don't forget his shipping boots.”
Sarah led Prince back to the barn, where she saw Gus cleaning stalls. He stepped into the aisle as they approached and held up his hand to stop her. It was unusual for him to seek her out, and Sarah immediately became uneasy. Had she done something wrong?
“The carpenter says he's just about finished with the new stalls in the ell,” Gus said. “Your horse is going to have the outside one with the window. It's bigger. I'll tell you when to move him.”
“Thanks, Gus!” Sarah said enthusiastically.
To think, he actually started a conversation with me!
she thought. Gus paused to scrutinize Crown Prince as the horse walked by, but he had seen many handsome horses before this one and seemed to see no need to comment.
Once back in the stall, Sarah looked her horse over before removing the longeing cavesson. Despite the warm afternoon, he hadn't broken into a sweat. Prince went immediately to his water bucket, drinking deeply.
He's happy here,
she thought.
Brookmeade Farm is the best place for Prince, not the racetrack.
But it was getting late. Her dad would be home soon, and while she didn't look forward to the conversation she had ahead of her, she needed to get it over with.
After giving Prince a final pat, she scooped up Jack's longeing equipment and headed to the office. Lindsay was talking with a student and her parents in the hallway, but the office was empty. Sarah coiled the longe line and hung it along with the cavesson on a hook on the wall where Jack kept it before going to get her bicycle.
On the ride home her mind raced. She braced herself for the confrontation that was sure to come. Mr. Bolton's letter was in her jeans pocket, ready for her to give to her parents. She steeled herself for their reaction, determined to stand her ground. Could she make them understand how much her horse meant to her? Would they recognize that no amount of money would tempt her to part with him? It should be
her
decision and no one else's. It was
her
life. And
her
horse.
Soon she was turning into the driveway by their white shuttered Cape-style house. Both garage doors were down, which meant her father was already home, and her mother was probably in the kitchen preparing dinner. Abby would be there too, most likely talking on her phone or texting friends.
Sarah put her bike away and walked toward the house. Before starting up the back steps, she paused a moment. So much rested on her parents' reaction to the deal Hank Bolton was proposing. When she stepped into the mudroom, she was struck with how quiet the house was. No music was playing, no noise from the television, and no voices.
Sarah was sitting on the deacon's bench removing her barn shoes when Abby appeared. Even her sister was uncharacteristically quiet, as she bent over to whisper in her ear. “They know,” was all Abby said. She cast a knowing look before retreating back into the kitchen. Abby had to be speaking about Mr. Bolton's offerâwhat else could she mean? Sarah stepped into the half-bath off the mudroom to wash her hands, her thoughts whirling. How had they learned about it? She walked into the kitchen where her mother was slicing tomatoes for a salad.
“Hi, Sarah. Did you have a good day?”
“Yes, Mom, it was a great day. I actually longed Prince for the first time. But there's something important I need to talk to you and Dad about. Do you have time now?”
Her mother put the knife down and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. Her face was noncommittal. “Yes, Sarah, of course we have time. Your dad's in the den.”
Martin Wagner was working on some papers at his desk, but he swiveled his chair to face them. He looked equally serious. Sarah sat down on the loveseat in front of the Franklin stove while her mother settled in a nearby chair.
“Sarah,” her mother began, “an unusual letter was left in our mailbox. It had no postmark, so it must have been hand delivered. It's from Hank Bolton. Do you know anything about it?”
Sarah's throat felt tight and dry. She sat up straight and took a deep breath before answering. “If it's from Mr. Bolton, then yes, I do. He was at Brookmeade today and gave one to me, too.”
Her parents exchanged glances before Mrs. Wagner continued. “Well, then we don't have to go over the contents of the letter. We all know that Mr. Bolton is prepared to reward you with a lot of money if you return Crown Prince to him.” She paused again, looking at her husband before continuing. “We can appreciate what a difficult position this puts you in. It forces all of us to consider some tough questions and think about our priorities.”
“I know what's most important to me,” Sarah shot back defiantly. “Sure, I want to go to college someday, but not if it means giving up the horse I've been waiting for all my life. It makes me mad that Mr. Bolton is trying to use his money to force me to give up Crown Prince. It makes me even madder that he's trying to get you on his side.”
She wasn't surprised when her father's response was calm and considered, and she struggled to remain patient while he spoke. “We know how much you've always loved horses,” he said, “and now you have one of your own, a horse that everyone seems to think is pretty special. But Hank Bolton has come up with a lucrative offer for the return of Crown Prince, a plan that includes a replacement horse. You say you're angry he made this proposal, and you don't want to accept it. But are you being reasonable? Can keeping Crown Prince really be worth sacrificing a gift card for your college education?”
It was so like her father to want her “to be rational,” as he always phrased it. Sarah's back stiffened, and her dark eyes remained resolute and determined. “I won't give Prince back for a hundred college educations!” she blurted.
Her mother's mouth was set in a grim line. “Do you know what's at stake here? You're a smart girl who should go to college. An education will open up a whole new world for you. Do you think you can spend the rest of your life doing barn work at Brookmeade Farm to support a horse?” It was clear from her mother's rising voice and flushed face that she was upset by Sarah's response. Mrs. Wagner rose from her chair and walked as quickly as she could to the bay window, her back to them.
Sarah's father stepped in. “Hank Bolton isn't offering you a paltry sum, Sarah,” he said. “We're talking serious money here. Do you know what that could do for you?”
Her mother turned around to face Sarah. “We won't let you ignore your future!” she said, her words terse and clipped. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We don't want you to make a terrible mistake you'll someday regret.”
When Sarah didn't respond, her father spoke up. “Think about all the things you could do with the amount of money Hank Bolton is offering. Pick one of the top colleges. With your grades, you'll be able to get into any of them, and the money to make it happen has just fallen out of the sky. Your mother and I want to be sure you fully understand the big picture. Don't make a bad choice in haste.”
Sarah clenched her jaw. For a moment she pictured what would happen if she went along with Mr. Bolton's plan. A van would show up to take Prince back to the racetrack. A stranger would lead him up the ramp, and off he would go, out of her life. She'd probably never see him again. He'd forget her and his time at Brookmeade. She squeezed her eyes shut against the image. It must not happen!
“I know you want what's best for me,” Sarah said, her voice cracking. “But even if I keep Prince, I'll still be able to go to college. After I graduate, I can go to Bromont Community for free, because you teach there, Dad. I'll study to be a teacher like I've always planned. And I can get a part-time job while I'm in school.” Her voice failed completely, and she whispered, “Somehow I'll find a way to keep Prince.” And then a tear started down her cheek. “Please don't make me give him back.”
Mrs. Wagner started for the door. “My casserole is ready to come out of the oven. I think we could all use a hot dinner.” She looked back at Sarah. “But we haven't finished discussing this.”
Sarah got up to leave, but her father motioned her back. “Sarah” he said, “please don't dig in your heels. Think this through carefully and keep an open mind.”
There was little conversation during the evening meal; a cloud of tension hung over the table. Abby tried to make small talk without much success. Sarah's stomach was in knots. She poked at the food on her plate before finally asking to be excused before the others had finished. She went to the welcoming quiet of the den and tried to get comfortable in the wing chair. She picked up the new issue of
Practical Horseman
that had come in the mail and leafed through the pages, but it was hard to concentrate.
When she heard dishes being stacked in the kitchen, Sarah went to help with the nightly chores. Abby chattered about her day at the Creamery as she cleared the table. Sarah listened halfheartedly, glad to have her sister fill the void as Sarah rinsed the dinner dishes and loaded them in the dishwasher. She was relieved when she could escape back to the den and an article on teaching horses to jump. She had just sat down when suddenly the quiet was broken by the shrill ring of the doorbell.
Sarah looked out the window facing the driveway. Her heart leaped when she saw Hank Bolton's Porsche parked in front of their garage. He was here! He was pulling out all the stops to get Crown Prince back, coming right to their house. She bit her lip in anger. What a nerve! What should she do? Her mind was racing. She didn't know whether to confront him at the door or hide in her bedroom.
The front doorbell rang once more, and Sarah heard her mother speaking. Then Mr. Bolton's distinctive voice carried from the front room to the den. “I hope you received the letter I left here earlier.”
He was so slick. He was probably wearing the same impressive suit and winning smile that had gotten him money and power throughout his life. What if he convinced her parents that she should go along with his plan? Sarah felt her anger rising. At once she knew she had to speak for herself. She rose from the chair and strode into the front room.
Hank Bolton turned when she entered, smiling broadly as he stretched out his hand. Ignoring the gesture, Sarah struggled to be anything close to civil. The rage she felt consumed her. When she spoke, her words came in short, clipped bursts with an intensity that surprised even her.
“Mr. Bolton, I listened to you this morning. Then I read your letter. I'm sure you're here to try to convince my parents and me to accept your offer. But I can tell you my answer. It's no. Absolutely no.” She heard her voice grow louder, and she struggled to stay in control. But the words came gushing out.
“No matter how much you try to change my mind, I will never give up Crown Prince.” She paused to catch her breath. Was this really Sarah Wagner speaking? Her parents must be shocked to hear a girl who was usually quiet and even a little shy talking this way to an adult. But she went on, her fists clenched by her sides. “He's
not
going to be a racehorse. He's mine now, and I won't give him up, not for anything. Not for your money, and not for another horse.”
Mr. Bolton was clearly taken aback. He looked beyond Sarah to her parents, his eyes pleading, asking them to use their better judgment. Could they possibly agree with their emotional teenage daughter? How could they refuse his offer? Always the skilled negotiator, Mr. Bolton decided to sweeten the deal. “I'm willing to up my proposal to $50,000 a year toward college. Isn't that more than generous and fair?”
The Wagners turned from his gaze, and an intense look passed between them. There was a long moment of silence before Sarah's mother turned back to Hank Bolton. “Mr. Bolton, we appreciate your generous offer, and we are not ignorant of its amazing benefits. We've had a chance to discuss it with Sarah, but as you heard, her mind is firmly made up. She wants to keep Crown Prince.” Mrs. Wagner's eyes met Sarah's. “And we must respect her wishes.”
Sarah felt dizzy. Her parents would stand behind her! They were taking her side. She wanted to shriek for joy. Hank Bolton looked away for a moment. He seemed to be absorbing the fact that although he'd done everything he could, he'd lost. When he looked back at them, the smile was gone and there was no warmth in his voice when he spoke. “It's clear you're determined to keep Crown Prince, and it doesn't look like I can change your mind.”