Chapter 6

“Special delivery!” Turo held up a shiny new saddle and accessories, beaming with pride. He sized up Sandy and broke out in a wide smile. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. That horse really is tiny and cute.”

It had been only three days since Lucky, Abigail, and Pru had placed their order, but it felt like three weeks. Every morning, they’d gotten up early to train Sandy and stopped only for lunch. They couldn’t do much except lead her with a rope around the run and work on touch exercises, brushing her mane and hide to build trust. That is, when they could get her to hold still. She had so much energy for such a little horse that she was exhausting all three of them as well as the rest of the horses in the barn. The PALs didn’t care to admit it, but the path to becoming a Trail Trainer required a lot more work than they’d bargained for.

“It really is a pity Sandy won’t just keep the baskets on her back,” Abigail had lamented on the second day, after their seventh attempt at the exercise. “She’s so strong, she could definitely be a packhorse if she just put her mind to it!” They’d tried putting other items instead of rocks inside the baskets; everything from stuffed animals to books to oat cookies. That last idea had proven to be a really poor choice. Sandy had just immediately flung the baskets across the ramada and cantered around, eating the snacks off the ground while the girls stood there laughing.

But today would be different. It was time to try Sandy with a rider.

“Thank you, Turo!” Lucky squealed as she rushed to inspect the goods. It was well-known in Miradero that everything Turo made was of top-notch quality—and these were no exception. The rich brown leather of the miniature saddle was even stamped with the letters of Sandy’s name on the back. The bridle and bit were just her size and made with extra care. “They’re perfect.”

“Well, let’s try them on first before you say that,” Turo said with a laugh. He stepped up onto the wooden rail of the fence and hoisted himself over it into the pen.

Sandy was busy munching on some weeds near a stack of barrels. Pru coaxed her over to Turo with a slice of apple. The little horse responded immediately. She trotted happily, shaking her mane and doing her signature spin on the way. But as Lucky and Abigail slid the bridle and headstall over Sandy’s tawny muzzle, she began to writhe around as if the thing were made of snakes instead of soft, molded leather.

“Whoa, girl. It’s all right now,” Turo assured her with a gentle pat. “That’s it.”

The saddle was a little easier to secure than the bridle, but Sandy still didn’t like it. She started wriggling around and kicking her back legs out unhappily.

“That’s the horse you expect one of us to ride?” a voice asked.

The PALs turned and saw Snips, Bianca, and Mary Pat walking toward the pen.

“Snips, what are they doing here?” Abigail asked.

“I said I knew someone who could ride your little horse. Here are two someones!” Snips replied.

“Yeah, except there’s no way we’re getting on that little thing,” Mary Pat said. “Right, Bianca?” Bianca frowned and looked from the horse to Snips and back again. “Right, Bianca?!” Mary Pat urged.

“Well… she won’t throw me, will she?” Bianca asked.

“She won’t,” Pru assured her.

“If Snips wants me to ride this little horse, then I’ll do it!” Bianca declared. Mary Pat sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

“All right, just nice and steady now,” Lucky reminded the nervous girl. “Slow.”

Bianca stepped forward and carefully mounted Sandy. She gently nudged the horse’s sides with her feet and Sandy began to walk. Bianca managed to guide Sandy around the pen almost twice before everything fell apart. Sandy stopped to munch some more weeds and refused to listen to any commands. Nothing Bianca tried seemed to work.

“I know how to make this horse walk!” Snips hollered. He raised a stick above his head. A carrot tied to a long string was attached to the end of it. The idea was that the horse would try to reach the carrot with her mouth and would, in turn, walk forward. It worked on some horses and Snips’s donkey, Señor Carrots. Bianca was hesitant, but she took the stick from Snips. As she dangled the carrot in front of the horse, Sandy took off in a canter, trying in vain to reach the treat. When the horse couldn’t get it, she ran even faster and broke out into a full gallop. But there was nowhere in the pen for her to go. Sandy came to a screeching halt to avoid colliding with the wooden fence. Bianca went soaring right over it!

Luckily, Turo had quick reflexes. He leaped forward and caught her. “You okay, little buddy?”

“That. Was,” Bianca replied, wide-eyed. “Awesome!”

The PALs sighed in relief. Al Granger, who had been watching the scene from inside Pru’s house, rushed outside to check on Bianca. He brought his first-aid kit and helped Bianca bandage up the one small scrape she had gotten when her knee brushed the wooden fence.

“Maybe it would be best if you girls gave the training a rest,” Mr. Granger suggested. He didn’t look too happy. “I hate to say it, but maybe Mr. Rollins was right. You should just leave Sandy alone until he comes to pick her up on Founders’ Day. She might be too much for you girls to handle.”

“Dad, no!” Pru protested. “We can do this. We’ve only been trying for a few days.”

“Sandy just needs more time!” Abigail added.

Mr. Granger finally agreed under one condition—they had to take regular breaks. Sandy was probably just too overwhelmed and confused to figure things out. The PALs admitted that he had a point.

As soon as Turo, Mr. Granger, Snips, and the twins all left, the girls suddenly felt exhausted. They brought Sandy back to the barn, undid her tack, and began to brush her down.

“So Sandy’s not a packhorse and she’s not a riding horse,” Lucky conceded, feeling discouraged. She couldn’t bear to give up on the little horse now. Lucky was positive that Sandy was meant for something special. She reached out and brushed her fingers through Sandy’s soft mane. “What kind of horse are you, girl?”

A true Trail Trainer wouldn’t give up that easily. One way or another, you could bet your bridle that Lucky would figure it out.