Sam stretched across her bed and closed her eyes. “I’m tired. Washing cars is hard enough, but farm trucks caked with mud are a pain in the butt.”

I curled up on the twin bed opposite Sam’s with Johnny Tremain. “Do you believe in prayer?”

“What?” Sam’s eyes blinked open. “Where’d that question come from?”

I told her about praying for Jenny and my parents at the prayer service.

“Sure, I believe in prayer. It’s church I have a problem with.”

“Why?”

“Start with the name One True Way. What if there isn’t one? Most kids are whatever religion their parents are. I’d probably be Jewish or Muslim if that’s the way I’d been raised.”

“You probably would, but maybe not. I guess each person has to find their own true way.”

“What’s yours?” Sam asked.

Her question stopped me like a roadblock. Knowing what’s true should have been easy, but it wasn’t. I had to look deep inside. “I’m not sure when it comes to religion. Until Eric died, I hadn’t given it much thought, but now I wonder. I wonder what happened to his soul, and if some part of him is still with me. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Nope.”

“A couple other things feel true too. Being a reporter and being with you.”

A big smile spread across Sam’s face. “Good answer. My church isn’t true, at least not for me, but basketball, riding Penny, and being your best friend, all of those feel true.”

She had said it! Sam had called me her best friend! I felt as warm and gooey inside as melted chocolate, but before I found the words to tell her, Sam’s eyes drifted shut. “How about reading to me?” she asked.

My hands were trembling when I opened Johnny Tremain, but soon I got lost in the story. The bedroom faded away and I was in Boston just before the Revolutionary War. I cringed when Johnny burned his hand on the furnace.

Sam’s voice brought me back to the real world. “I like looking at you.”

“What?”

“I like watching you read. When Mrs. Lapham sent for the midwife instead of the doctor, your face turned red.”

A little self-conscious, I marked my place and closed the book. “Reading is an adventure. It’s like I traveled to Boston without ever leaving your room.”

Sam brushed her hair off her forehead and smiled. “Ready for a real adventure?”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s feed Penelope some carrots.”

“That doesn’t sound like such a big adventure.”

“Just wait. You’ve never tried to hand-feed a horse before.”

Sam and I walked through knee-high pasture grass that was starting to turn dry and brittle. She put her fingers to her lips and gave a shrill whistle. When she shook the brown paper bag she was carrying, Penny knew carrots were inside and came running.

“Our first lesson is called How to Feed a Horse and Keep Your Fingers,” Sam said.

I stuck my hands deep into the front pockets of my jeans. “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.”

“Oh, it’s a great idea. Penelope has never bitten off anybody’s fingers yet.”

It was the yet that worried me.

“There’s more than one way to feed a horse,” Sam said. “Lots of people keep their palms flat, but if you get scared and move your hand, Penny could bite you by mistake.”

I didn’t want Penny to make a mistake. Not even a little one. “Okay, what’s the best way?”

“Watch this.” Sam wrapped her right fist around a carrot, leaving a few inches sticking out of the top. “Here you go, Penny.”

Penelope used her lips and slid the carrot out of Sam’s grip. “Good girl,” Sam said. “See … I didn’t jerk, or tease, or pull away. Penny wants the carrot, not my fingers.”

“It’d be easier to throw the carrot on the ground.”

“It would, but I want you to make friends with Penny. When the two of you get used to each other, riding will be as easy as walking.”

I took a deep breath. My heart was beating like a snare drum, but I wrapped my fist around a carrot anyway. “I’m nervous.”

Sam covered my fist with hers. “We’ll do it together this time.”

My fist tingled. I couldn’t decide if it was because of Sam or Penelope. And if it was because of Sam, what did that mean?