CHAPTER TWO

GRAN LOOKS UP when Lily bursts through the door. “Lily! What—”

“Beware’s sick!” Lily turns the pages of the phone book. She can’t remember the vet’s name. She can’t even remember the alphabet.

“Here.” Gran points to a phone number taped on the wall. Lily dials.

“Valley Vet Clinic,” a woman’s voice says.

“Is one of the vets there?”

“Dr. Shore is out on a call,” the woman says, “but I can reach him. Is this an emergency?”

“Yes!”

“What’s the nature of the problem?”

Suddenly Lily can hardly speak. “My horse—she can’t move. She’s way out in the pasture, and she can’t move her back legs—”

“Is she standing?” The woman’s voice sounds sharper. She sounds worried, too.

“Yes,” Lily says.

“I’ll get through to Dr. Shore and have him call you. Who is this?”

“Lily Griffin.”

“Woody’s granddaughter?” Now the woman sounds even more concerned. “Dr. Shore’s at a farm not too far from you. I’ll have him call right away. Don’t you worry, honey.” The woman hangs up without saying good-bye.

Gran is peeling potatoes. Peel after peel flops into the scrap bucket. She doesn’t need to look at the potatoes. She looks at Lily.

“Will she eat?”

“She ate an apple core.” Lily’s eyes want to cry, but she feels too cold inside, too scared. “Dr. Shore’s going to call.”

“I’ll talk to him. You go back to her. Take a handful of hay, Lily, and some water—not a big bucket!” Giran warns as Lily goes out the door. “Don’t you hurt your back!”

It’s so cold. Lily shivers inside her sweatshirt. It takes a long time to climb back up the hill with the heavy pail of water. Beware looks tiny and far away.

The pony comes to see what’s in the pail. He doesn’t want water, but he steals a snatch of hay. He follows behind Lily, crunching, and he steals another mouthful.

Beware whinnies when Lily gets close. Her voice sounds loud and worried. She sniffs the water and takes a sip. Slowly she winds a wisp of hay into her mouth and chews.

If only Beware could speak! If only she could say what’s wrong!

Lily looks again for bumps or cuts. She runs her hands down Beware’s legs. If Beware had a broken leg, it would hurt when Lily touched it. But Beware doesn’t flinch.

Lily presses her fingers along Beware’s spine. She presses softly at first and then harder. That doesn’t seem to hurt either.

She feels the tips of Beware’s ears. Sometimes if a horse has a fever, its ears will feel hot. Or if it is very sick, or dying, its ears will feel cold.

Beware’s ears feel normal, and she is eating slowly. Very sick horses usually don’t eat at all.

But there is something wrong! It doesn’t make sense!

Lily leans on Beware’s warm shoulder. She smells Beware’s rich horse smell. She reaches under Beware’s belly to scratch. Beware loves to have her tummy scratched.

As Lily’s hand slides down Beware’s side, she notices something. She steps back to look.

A ridge of muscle shows along Beware’s round side. Usually Lily can’t see that muscle. Now it’s hard and tight. Lily goes to Beware’s other side. The muscle shows there, too. What could that mean?

“Lily?”

A small figure is coming across the field. Gramp? The vet?

No, it is only Gran, wearing Gramp’s old coat over her dress and a pair of big black boots. She comes steadily up the hill.

“Dr. Shore is on his way,” Gran says. “He’ll be here in twenty minutes.” She waits a moment to get her breath. “Be about dark by then—don’t know how he can work on her when he can’t see.”

Lily has thought of that. “Could we drive the tractor up and shine the headlights on her?”

“That’s an idea,” says Gran. “Better to get her down, though. Will walking do her any harm, do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Lily says. “I don’t think she has anything broken.”

“Let’s try,” Gran says. She goes behind Beware, pushing the pony aside. “Out of my way, you foolish thing!” Gran puts her shoulder against Beware’s rump. Her cheek is close to Beware’s hip, and her glasses gleam as she nods to Lily. “Now pull,” she says.

Lily pulls on the halter rope. Gran pushes with her shoulder. Beware takes a wobbly step.

“Again!” says Gran. They push, and pull. Beware steps—two steps. She stops. “Again,” says Gran.

After seven steps like this Beware won’t go any farther. Her back legs wobble. “Let’s let her rest,” says Lily. If Beware falls down, how could they ever get her up?

Gran asks, “Are we doing her any harm?”

“She doesn’t seem any worse,” Lily says. They stand in the growing darkness.

“All right, let’s try again,” Gran says after a minute.

Ten steps this time. For three of the steps Beware really walks, without their pulling or pushing.

She stops. “That looked better,” Gran says. “Come on, girl, let’s go!”

Stop and start, push and pull, they go down the hill. By the time they reach the bottom Beware is walking better. She still goes slowly, and she looks unhappy, but her back legs work much better now. What can be wrong with her? Lily has never heard of a sickness like this.

She opens the gate and leads Beware into the barn. Gran snaps the switch, and the cozy yellow light comes on. The light makes the barn look warm, but it isn’t really.