Chapter Four

Where’s the grooming gear?” David asks Gus.

Gus grunts and jerks his thumb toward the trailer.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I ask, following David.

“We have to groom Buster.”

“No, we don’t. Look at all those kids. We need to get the saddles on.”

David takes a faded plastic crate out of the back of the trailer and carries it to the corral. “Nobody rides until the ponies are ready.”

I had no idea it was going to be this complicated. Gus should have showed up two hours early instead of half an hour late.

David pulls a weird-looking thing the size of a hockey puck out of the crate.

“This is a currycomb,” he says, working it through Buster’s coat. “You need to groom them, especially here, where the saddle goes. If you don’t pick out the burs and stickers, they’ll really hurt once the rider is on.”

He trades the currycomb for a brush. “Most horses like to be groomed. Look how Buster is leaning into this. He’s already happier, which will make the pony rides safer for the kids. No one wants to ride a cranky pony.”

Some of the kids in line are whining. I hear some parents grumbling, too, until Jules drowns them out by starting a sing-along to “Old MacDonald Had a Hardware Store.”

Buster looks a whole lot better after he’s been brushed. I comb his mane clean while David starts on Babe. By the time I’m done, Buster stands a little taller, as if he knows he looks better and he’s proud of it.

“Anytime now!” an impatient dad calls from the long line of waiting kids.

David carries the saddles and bridles from the truck as I’m finishing Babe’s mane. I watch as he sets the saddles over the saddle pads and cinches up the girths. “Tacking up,” he calls it. The ponies take the bits in their mouths, and the bridles are buckled up around their jaws.

“There’s a mounting block in the back of the truck,” Gus calls.

David and I lift it down together and set it up inside the corral so kids can climb on and off the ponies.

“Not that I mind,” David says, “but isn’t that guy supposed to be doing all this?”

“He is,” I say. “But the whole point of the pony rides is to bring families to the store and to keep their kids happy. I think Gus would scare them all away.” I pause. “Look, you’ve already helped a lot and I really appreciate it, but you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” David stands. “Helping is what the Vet Volunteers are all about. We have to, or we face the wrath of Dr. Mac.” He grins so I know he’s joking. “My dad can’t pick me up until later this afternoon, and you could use a hand, so . . . can I stay?”

It’s my turn to grin.

“The Wrenches and Roses First Annual Pony Ride is officially open,” I shout. “Who’s first?”

Sophie sprints across the parking lot before I can say another word, and David helps her onto Babe’s saddle. Sophie is singing as loudly as she can. I hope David’s grooming made Babe happy enough that she won’t mind the off-key tune.

I hang back, unsure what to do.

“Go ahead,” David urges. “That little guy at the front of the line, I think his name is Malik. He was in my sister’s class last year. Pick him up and put him on Buster.”

“Right,” I say, trying to look more confident than I feel.

I wave Malik over, and he runs to the corral and jumps up onto the mounting block. Buster stands perfectly still while I help Malik into the saddle. He shuffles his feet a bit as the little boy pats his neck.

David has already walked Sophie and Babe halfway around the corral. “Go ahead,” he calls. “Take his lead.”

I lead Buster and Malik slowly around the corral. Both boy and pony seem to be having fun. So far, so good.

David and I lead the pony rides for the next hour, while Gus sleeps in a folding chair with his hat over his face. Jules helps by entertaining the kids in line. The kids are all happy, and their parents are smiling. I cross my fingers and hope that means they’ll turn into Wrenches & Roses customers.

“So when was the last time you rode a horse?” David asks, once we’ve both settled into the routine.

“Um . . . never,” I admit.

“Never?” he asks. “Never, as in, not once in your entire life?”

“Yeah, that’s usually what ‘never’ means.”

“Man”—he pats Buster’s neck—“I don’t know if I could handle that.”

“If you’d never been on a horse, you probably wouldn’t think it was such a big deal,” I point out.

“I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t on a horse,” he says. “My dad was supposed to go to the Olympics, but it got canceled that year. We have pictures of me riding with him when I was two years old.”

“My dad taught me how to play soccer,” I say, even though it isn’t exactly the truth.

“That’s cool,” David says. “Dad and I are going riding tomorrow. He’ll be on King’s Shadow. When my dad is riding him, it looks like the two of them are flying.”

“I help my dad with the store a lot,” I say. “You know, the family business.”

I’m secretly wishing that my dad could afford a horse, or that he had the time to take me to the stables, or a soccer field, or anywhere.

“You have to work here a lot, don’t you?” David asks.

I’m saved from the need to answer him by Maggie and Zoe, who walk up to the corral, grinning and checking out our work with the ponies. They’re both granddaughters of Dr. Mac, our town veterinarian and the leader of the Vet Volunteers. Maggie’s lived with Dr. Mac since she was a baby, and now Zoe lives with them, too, since her mom is an actress working in Hollywood.

“Looks like you have this under control,” Maggie says.

“Thanks to David,” Jules says. She’s left the line of kids under the watchful eye of a mom with a baby in her arms.

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Don’t say that too loud—you’ll make his head swell even bigger.”

That makes David laugh. Babe swishes her tail like she’s joining him.

“Did you guys hear about Ranger?” Maggie asks.

“Mr. Fedor’s dog?” I ask. I haven’t met him yet, but the other volunteers say he’s a nice old man whose dog, Ranger, is always getting into trouble.

“What happened this time?” David asks.

“He tried to make friends with a porcupine,” Maggie says.

I wince. “Ouch!”

“Totally,” Zoe agrees.

“Poor Ranger,” Jules says. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Nothing keeps Ranger down,” Maggie says. “Gran said the hardest part was removing the quills stuck in his nose. He won’t go near a porcupine again, that’s for sure.”

Just then, Buster lifts his tail and leaves a huge pile of poop on the parking lot.

“Ewww!” says the little girl riding him. I’m thinking the same thing, but I try not to show it. Pony poop smells even grosser than it sounds.

“I’ll get the shovel,” says Jules.

“This is the perfect time for us to leave,” Maggie says, laughing. “Remember, guys, the clinic closed at noon today. Gran is taking us camping on the Lehigh River.”

“Sounds like fun,” I say.

“Not really. We have to sleep in a tent,” says Zoe, wrinkling her nose. “On the ground.”

Zoe is more of a hotel kind of girl. A five-star hotel, if you please. With room service and a view.

“What about the animals?” I ask.

“Ranger went home with Mr. Fedor last night. Gran’s been planning this camping horror for months, so we don’t have any boarders,” Zoe says. “Sherlock Holmes is staying with a guy from Gran’s book club and Socrates will be very happy to have twenty-four hours of peace and quiet.”

The first time I met Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Mac’s old basset hound, he drooled so much on my sneakers that I had to change my socks when I got home. Socrates, the clinic’s cat, still won’t let me get close enough to pet him. Maybe he senses that I’m not sure if I really belong with the group.

“Is Dr. Gabe on call?” David asks.

Dr. Gabe is the other vet who works with Dr. Mac.

Maggie nods. “He’s at a conference in Philly right now,” she says. “But he’ll be back tonight.”

“Gotta go, cousin,” Zoe says. “I’m not done packing. Gran says all we need are old T-shirts and shorts, but I think my clothes should match even if we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Maggie rolls her eyes. Zoe loves fashion. Maggie, not so much. Zoe likes to cook bizarre, healthy foods that smell gross and taste worse, while Maggie is a pizza, burgers, and wings girl. As far as I could tell, the only thing they have in common, besides their grandmother, is that they care about animals more than anything else.

“Just remember, you have to carry what you pack,” Maggie says. “See you guys. Have fun!”

“This would be a great weekend to go camping,” David says. “My dad’s taking me to the Chester County Horse Show tomorrow. You want to come with us?”

“I can’t,” I say. “The ponies are going to be here tomorrow, too. It looks like Jules and I are going to be stuck working.”

The words come out meaner than I’d planned, but the truth is, I’m getting a little fed up with David’s bragging about his horse experience and his father.

Out on Main Street a car revs its engine and beeps its horn loudly. Buster startles, almost jerking the lead out of my hands.

“Hold tight,” David calls. “If you’re calm, he’ll be calm.”

I won’t miss David’s bragging tomorrow, but I sure will miss his help. I hope Jules and I can handle it.