Blue Ribbon Summer Read Free

as if they were. Right?
    Brooke’s mood brightened as she turned the idea over in her head. She owned a whole shelf full of books about horses and riding, and there were more in the library, not to mention plenty of videos online. She’d done most of Foxy’s training herself so far, with lots of research and advice from her neighbors and others. And Foxy was five now—old enough to do anything Brooke wanted to do with her. So why not get more serious about their training? It would be fun!
    â€œThanks, guys,” Brooke murmured, closing the Pony Post page. She’d wait and update her friends later. Right now she was eager to head back out to the barn and get started on her own big plans.
    Brooke dropped her dishes in the sink, then went back outside. It was hotter already, and the drone of insects filled the air. Brooke grabbed Foxy’s halter as she enteredthrough the people part of the barn, then headed out into the pasture. Foxy was grazing in her favorite spot right across the fence from the draft horses’ shade tree. She lifted her head when Brooke called her, then ambled over to meet her owner.
    â€œHey, girl,” Brooke whispered, running her hand up the pony’s sleek reddish-brown neck to scratch her favorite spot. “Ready to become a show horse?”
    Foxy curled her neck, her lower lip flopping with pleasure as she leaned into the scratch. After a moment Brooke slid the halter onto Foxy’s head, then led her over to the hitching ring in the run-in stall.
    â€œBe right back,” Brooke said, giving the mare a pat. She hurried back into the people part of the barn. She kept her grooming tools in a bucket that had held Foxy’s water for the first few months Brooke had owned her. That winter, the bucket had cracked in the first hard freeze, and Brooke had had to beg her parents for the money to replace it with a rubber one. But the plastic one still worked fine to hold her grooming stuff.
    Soon she was hard at work brushing the dirt out of Foxy’s coat and picking burrs and twigs out of her mane and tail. By the time the mare was halfway clean, Brooke was sweaty and panting as if she’d just run halfway to Salisbury. The thought of lugging her saddle out of the barn and tacking up made her want to lie down and take a nap in the shade.
    â€œMaybe it’s too hot to start our training right now,” she told Foxy, who had one hind foot cocked and appeared to be half asleep. Brooke glanced down at herself, realizing something else. “Besides, I forgot to change clothes.”
    She’d ridden countless times in her current outfit of shorts and tennis shoes, but rarely in a saddle. The leathers of her English saddle always pinched her bare legs, and the fenders on her battered old Western one rubbed.
    Brooke hesitated, glancing toward the house. It wouldn’t take long to run inside and change into jeans and paddock boots. But was it really worth it on such a hot day?
    Instead, she ducked into the people part just long enough to grab her plastic schooling helmet and Foxy’s bridle. Moments later, she was slipping on to Foxybareback from the fence rail. She glanced at the humble riding ring she’d laid out in one corner of the pasture, then tugged on one rein to turn Foxy in the other direction.
    â€œIt’s no big deal,” she murmured, rubbing the mare’s withers as they set out along the edge of the soybean field next door. “We can start our training tomorrow.”

CHAPTER
2
    BROOKE HAD STARTED OUT WITH no particular destination in mind. But it wasn’t long before she realized she was almost automatically heading toward Adam’s house.
    Adam Conley was the only other kid Brooke’s age within a five-mile radius. The two of them had been hanging out since they were toddlers, and they usually spent most of the summer bombing around together, exploring their rural little corner of the county, Brooke on Foxy and