Chapter Four

~ A Safe Haven ~

 

Rosie looked so happy nibbling grass in the sun that I hated to make her move. She was frothy with sweat, which stained her brown patches even darker. But with Jake still somewhere behind us and mad, we had to hide her. I eased up to Rosie and picked up her lead rope. She looked at me with a mouthful of grass and flowers and blew a hello through her nostrils.

“I think she was waiting for us,” said Addie. I thought so, too, because she didn’t try to move away.

“Where can we take her that’s safe?” I said.

“What about that shed that we used to play Haunted House in?” Addie said. “It’s way back on the old Applegate place and there’s a little fenced field beside it.”

That’s why I liked Addie. Sometimes she seemed like she wasn’t paying attention and then she came up with a great idea. She was real smart, just afraid to show it. Me, I didn’t have that problem. People usually wanted me to quit talking about what I knew.

We walked deeper into the woods, leading a limping Rosie, who stopped every few minutes to snatch a mouthful of juicy-looking grass. I let her do that, even if it wasn’t good horse manners. She was just so hungry. I started talking softly to her, real close to her head. I told her how Addie and I were going to take care of her and make sure she had lots of water and food to eat. I whispered to her while we walked and sometimes her eyes would look into mine as if she understood me.

“What are you talking to her about?” Addie asked.

“I’m telling her all the good things that are going to happen from now on.”

“Why are you telling her? She doesn’t understand.”

“If I’m going to be a horse whisperer, I have to start sometime.”

“A what?”

“A horse whisperer. It’s a horse trainer that is special. They whisper to horses and get the horses to calm down and do amazing things. It’s really cool. I have a book about it that I’ll lend you.” Addie didn’t like to read as much as I did, but if it was a good book about horses, she’d wade through it.

Beyond the woods, a hilly field opened out and at the far edge of it was the shed, about the size of a one-car garage and missing a door. The best part of that shed was that it was out of sight of the highway and the old Applegate house and barn. Miss Julie lived in a retirement home now and probably wouldn’t care if we were there. She was the one who made my bracelet for me out of Dotty’s mane. Her son, Sam, was a lawyer in Louisville, and came back to Serendipity Springs a couple of days every week. The board fence around the little field was strong and would keep a pony in. It had the kind of wired-together gate my dad called a family gate, meaning it took the whole family to open or close it. We had to work to undo the gate, which was tied shut with a piece of hay rope. Addie undid the knot using her teeth and dragged it open, while I led Rosie into her temporary home. Addie dragged the gate closed again and we both watched as Rosie started munching on the thick, tall grass in the shade of a big oak tree.

“We should find some water for her,” Addie said. I pulled up a foxtail and chewed on the end.

“Maybe there is a tank and hydrant at the house,” I said, so we walked up the hill on the dirt track that would take us to the Applegate house. We stood behind a maple tree and watched the house for a while. Its white boards and green shutters looked dirty, but it was in okay condition. All the windows were shut, and there were no signs of anyone living there now. Nothing in the yard moved. We looked at each other, and then ran across the yard and into the big red barn. The late afternoon sun slanted in through cracks in the ceiling, and dust hung in the air above what looked like a hundred bales of hay. Here was food for Rosie if the grass got eaten down.

“This will be good hay for Rosie. It’s not moldy at all,” I said. My dad had taught me about hay.

“Hey, look,” I heard as Addie wandered outside. Around the corner of the barn was a water tank and hydrant, as I had hoped. “Do you think it works?” I said. I lifted the red handle, pulled up hard and—goosh!—water came pouring out into the tank. Addie and I grinned and high-fived each other.

Addie started to pace around the barnyard. “It’s too far to carry it to Rosie.”

“We don’t have to,” I said. “Horses only need to drink a few times a day. We can take turns bringing her over here.”

“I guess so,” said Addie. “But what if I have problems leading her or something? I haven’t done that very often.”

“You’ll be fine,” I said. “We can practice before you have to do it. She’s really gentle.”

We turned off the water and jogged back to Rosie to make sure she was still there. She was standing in the shade of the old oak with her eyes shut, looking like she was in horse heaven. She opened her eyes as we walked up, and snorted at us, then closed them again and sighed. I hugged her neck and whispered that I would take care of her. I loved smelling the warm horsey smell of her, the best smell in the world. I almost couldn’t breathe I felt so happy. We had saved her and I was never going to let Dirty Jake get his hands on her again.