Dream Horse (14 page)

“Oh, stop thinking too hard,” said Carole, reading her friend’s mind. “Don’t forget, this is a man who was willing to sell us a horse without mentioning the fact that the poor creature is totally blind!”

Lisa sighed with relief. Carole was absolutely right.

The stable manager at the Denver ranch was named Moe. He turned out to be as dull as Mr. Denver was sharp. Moe never sensed that anything foul was afoot, even when Lisa and Carole both climbed up into the saddle. Lisa thought that would be a giveaway, but he just smiled sweetly.

“She’s a nice horse, that Blondie,” he said as he handed the reins trustingly to Lisa. “Now don’t take her too far, will you?”

Lisa glanced across the valley and up to the mountains at the valley’s end. She could see the craggy overhang of Rock Ridge clearly.

“Don’t worry,” she assured Moe. “We’ll be in sight.”

“Good,” he said. “And we’ll be watching you the whole time.”

“Of course,” said Lisa. She gave Blondie a little kick. The horse began going forward obediently at a pleasant plodding walk.

As Lisa and Carole rode away, they could hear Deborah begin to do her part.

“Excuse me, but do you think I might use the bathroom?” she asked.

“Oh, sure, Mrs. Hale,” said the polite stable manager.

“Can you show me where it is, Moe?”

“Sure, Mrs. Hale.”

Carole looked back over her shoulder and watched the two adults disappear into the barn.

“They’re gone,” she told Lisa.

Lisa nudged Blondie with her heels. The horse shifted into an obedient trot. In a minute they reached the gate in the paddock. Carole opened it with her riding crop and then swung it closed behind them.

“How long do you think Deborah can keep Moe from seeing we’ve gone?” Carole asked.

“She’s a pro,” Lisa assured her. “After the bathroom comes the telephone, and then she’s going to need a drink of water.”

“Then she’s supposed to ask him to give her a tour of the barn ‘where Blondie lives,’ ” Carole said, smirking. They’d spent most of their drive to Rock Ridge making suggestions to Deborah about how she could distract the stable manager.

“I think the truly inspired suggestion was mine,” Carole said to Lisa.

“Oh, right, the part where Deborah is supposed to ask Moe if he can show her how to muck out a stall?” Lisa said, grinning in spite of their serious mission. “If I’ve judged that man right, he’ll be overseeing Deborah while she mucks out every stall in Mickey Denver’s barn!”

“She only has to do it long enough to let us get out of
sight,” said Carole. “And if you can get Blondie up to a canter, we should manage to disappear in about five minutes. That’s less than one good mucking! Look! There’s the trail!” she said.

Carole held Lisa’s waist while Lisa touched Blondie’s belly behind her girth. Blondie obediently broke into a smooth canter toward the opening in the woods. The trail would take them up the mountain that loomed in the distance.

The girls held on and watched carefully. Blondie was so well trained that she did exactly what she was told with faith that her riders weren’t going to get her into trouble. Lisa and Carole were accustomed to riding a horse that could spot an obstacle and get around or over it without help. But Lisa had to do all the thinking for Blondie.

The first problem was a gopher hole. Lisa moved the reins ever so slightly to the left; Blondie responded immediately, shifting to the left. Then she returned to the original direction at Lisa’s instruction.

“You know, I’m beginning to think this magnificent horse is everything Mickey Denver said she was.”

“If I remember correctly, the only thing he promised us was a silky mane.”

“Right,” said Lisa. “And Blondie’s got a lot more than that to offer.”

“Here comes a tree!” Carole said.

Quickly, Lisa got Blondie to swerve to the right. She decided then that she couldn’t afford to chat with Carole. If she talked, she’d run the risk of forgetting to be Blondie’s eyes while the horse was their feet.

A few minutes later they entered the woods at the base of the steep hill that led to Rock Ridge.

“This definitely looks like a path,” Carole said. “We’re on our way!”

Lisa drew Blondie to a walk. There would be no more cantering, or even trotting, now that they were in the woods. “This is definitely a path,” Lisa agreed. “I just hope it’s the right one.”

Carole hoped so, too. There was no room for error. It simply
had
to be the right one.

The path wound through the dense forest. It sloped gently upward, indicating to the girls that they were going the right way. Carole held on and crossed her fingers. She suspected Lisa would be doing the same thing, except it might interfere with the way she handled the reins—and to Blondie, all signals were significant.

The horse’s head rose and dropped with each footstep. She moved forward, exactly as instructed.

“There’s a tree fallen down ahead,” Lisa said.

“Go around it,” Carole told her.

“I can’t,” Lisa said, bringing Blondie to a halt. “There’s no room to leave the path.”

“Then we have to go over it,” Carole said. She slid off Blondie’s back and considered the possibilities.

There was only one. They had to go on ahead. Carole took a gentle grip on the reins near the bit.

“Come on, girl,” she said, clucking her tongue encouragingly. “You can do this.”

Blondie moved forward obediently. When they reached the fallen tree, Carole realized that she was going to have to let Blondie understand exactly how high and wide the fallen tree was.

She brought the horse to a halt immediately in front of the trunk. She slid her hand down Blondie’s right front leg as if she wanted to clean her shoe. The mare lifted her foot. Carole took it firmly in her hand and placed it on the top of the tree trunk. Then, tugging gently, she moved it forward to the far side of the trunk. At first Blondie seemed a little confused. She pulled her foot back. Carole picked it up again and repeated her lesson, clucking her tongue encouragingly.

“She’s going to get it. I know she is,” Lisa said, more hopeful than sure.

“You bet she is,” Carole said with confidence. She put her riding crop gently against the back of Blondie’s other foreleg, reminding her that forward was the direction to
go. The horse stepped forward with her left hind leg. Her left foreleg went over the tree trunk, and the two hind legs followed in rapid succession.

“Good girl!” Carole declared triumphantly as she climbed back up behind Lisa.

They continued their ascent.

The trail wasn’t easy or smooth. Carole had to get off two more times to help Blondie over other obstacles. Another time, she had to get the horse to duck under a low overhanging branch. Each time, Blondie simply did what she was told, as soon as she understood what was needed.

“You know what, Carole?” Lisa asked.

“What?”

“I’m beginning to wonder why we hesitated to buy this magnificent horse the first time Mickey Denver asked.”

“Me too,” said Carole.

T
HE SUMMER DAY
was a hot one, and by the time the sun was right overhead Carole and Lisa felt drained. Blondie had broken into a sweat, and even though she was going no faster than an ambling walk through the thick forest growth, there was lather all over her chest. But she kept going, doggedly obeying every request Lisa and Carole made.

As the narrow trail got steeper, Carole got off and walked, leading Blondie by her reins. When Lisa saw how profusely the horse was sweating, she knew she had to walk, too. She slid out of the saddle and walked in front of Carole and the horse.

“I’m not surprised the woman at the airport was concerned with how a rescue team might get to Phil and his uncle. This place is a jungle!” She swept a vine away from the path and held it aside while Blondie walked under it.

“And it looks to me as if it’s going to get worse,” Carole said.

“What?” Lisa asked. She was having trouble hearing Carole over a loud noise from above.

“I said—hey, look!” Carole said, pointing to the sky.

“Right, trees,” Lisa said. Then she realized she had to say it very loudly. “No, not just trees,” she corrected herself. “Airplane.”

“More accurately,
rescue
airplane,” said Carole.

It was, too. In the very few open spaces through the leaves, Lisa could see a small plane, white with a red cross on its fuselage, circling about half a mile ahead.

“They must see something!” Lisa said excitedly.

They both knew there was only one thing worth seeing from a rescue plane. They were near the wreckage. More important, they were near Phil and Uncle Michael.

“Come on. Let’s hurry,” said Lisa. “We’ve got to get to—”

She stopped because she didn’t know what it was they had to get to. Both she and Carole were certain, from
Veronica’s pictures and from the presence of the airplane, that they were near where the glider had gone down, but they didn’t know what they were going to find when they reached it. The unspoken question was why Phil and his uncle had failed to radio for help.

Lisa swallowed hard. This was no time to get scared. This was a time to follow the path blindly, just like Blondie. They would be the first to reach Phil and Uncle Michael. Their help would be the most important.

Seeking comfort as much as giving it, Carole patted Blondie on her sweat-streaked neck. “Come on, girl,” she said. Blondie’s nostrils flared. Her ears flicked attentively. Lisa and Carole were certain of one thing: Blondie wasn’t giving up. Neither would they.

“N
OW LET
’
S GO
see how those two little girls are doing, Mrs. Hale,” Moe said.

Deborah put down the pitchfork. She’d just mucked out two stalls. That should be enough to let Carole and Lisa get well out of sight.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I bet my little Lisa is having the time of her life on that pony!”

Deborah followed Moe out the stable door. She followed him to the paddock fence. She followed him as he climbed up onto the fence.

“Where on earth could those little girls be?” he asked, confounded.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re just having some fun with us,” Deborah told him. “I’m not worried at all, and you shouldn’t be, either.”

“Okay,” he said.

Deborah settled comfortably on the fence and shaded her eyes while she looked at the far end of the valley. She could see Rock Ridge. She could also see a small airplane circling the area. It had to be a rescue plane, and there was only one reason why it would keep circling. They’d spotted the wreckage!

“Moe, could I use the phone?” she asked.

P
HIL SHADED HIS EYES
and looked up to the sky where the airplane was circling above. He was standing on the tree branch right next to the glider, where his uncle Michael was now in considerable pain.

“They’ve spotted us, Uncle Michael,” Phil said excitedly. “They know where we are. Help will come soon.”

Uncle Michael smiled weakly and nodded.

Phil was glad he could give hope to Uncle Michael. His ankle was badly swollen. Phil had given him the one dose of morphine that he had. He didn’t know how long it was going to last, and he didn’t want to think about
how badly the ankle would hurt when it wore off. Another thing he didn’t want to think about was how long it was going to take rescuers to reach them.

He knew how dense the forest was. The only open area for miles was Rock Ridge, and it had taken him over an hour to walk to it, less than a mile away. The fact that they’d been spotted
was
good news, but it wasn’t the same as being rescued. It could take rescuers more than half a day to reach them.

Phil gave Uncle Michael a sip of water and then took one for himself. They shared a granola bar. It was the first thing Phil had had to eat since the night before. He hadn’t known then how long their supplies would have to last.

“W
HAT
’
S THAT
?” Carole asked.

“I don’t know,” said Lisa. “It was a very strange sound.”

“And it was coming from your pocket,” Carole said. Lisa patted her shirt pocket. There was the sound again.

“Oh, it’s Deborah’s cellular phone. I forgot she gave it to me to hold in the car. I wonder who’s calling her?”

“So find out,” Carole suggested logically.

It took two more rings for Lisa to figure out that the way to answer the phone was to push the
SND
button.

“Hello?”

“They’ve found them!”

“What?”

“Lisa, it’s Deborah. I’m at the Denver ranch. I just talked to the woman at the airport. She tells me that the rescue plane found the wreckage. They couldn’t see anybody because the trees are so thick, but they could see the glider. It’s
in
a tree. Can you see the airplane overhead?”

Lisa looked up. The rescue plane was still circling ahead of them.

“Yes,” Lisa said. “We figured it meant that was where they’d spotted the glider, so that’s where we’re headed.”

“Keep the phone turned on so I can call you. I’ll call you if there’s any news, and if you need to reach me, all you have to do is press Redial and S-N-D because the last number I called using the cellular phone was the one I’m calling from now. Are you girls okay?”