Brown Sunshine of Sawdust Valley Read Free Page A

skinny as when we first brought her home. Although she’s not my Dream Horse, she’s more fun than I expected.
    Last night at supper, Mom, who shies away from horses as if they were dinosaurs, admitted that even she could see a change in Lady.
    â€œI’m so proud of you and Daddy,” she said. “It’s one thing to buy a fine horse to begin with, but to take an aged mare and restore her to a kind of elegance . . . well, that must be what your manual calls horsemanship.”

    You know, Diary, I think Mom’s right. Old horses need almost as much care as foals. I mean, it doesn’t take anything for Freddy to make Strolling Joe look good. That horse is only four years old and just looks good naturally. But with Lady . . . the sunken places above her eyes are becoming less noticeable and she’s starting to look more filled out. Even distinguished.
    Besides, today when Strolling Joe was doinghis fastest running walk, Lady, at her fastest trot, easily kept pace with him.
    Pops rides Lady only on Sundays. All week I have her for my very own. Day after day, we move through autumn stillness or whirling winds. And when it rains, I spend the afternoon in the shed, reading aloud to her from My Friend Flicka or one of our equitation books.
    Mostly, though, she prefers the rain-sloshed pasture to my stories. She dashes out and lets the raindrops trickle down her back.
    It’s like the manual says, “Horses have got to live their own lives. Only rarely do they share their inner feelings.”
    All of our lives have changed . . . because of Lady. Mom is really in business now! She’s making twice as many jellies and jams as before. And Lady is pulling a cart full of tart-smelling currants and sweet red raspberries, and strawberry rhubarb preserves, apricots with almonds, blue plum, ginger marmalade, rose-geranium jelly, spiced grape jelly, and blueberry jam.
    Mom’s even become adventurous; she’s madea new blend using five different fruits. This was the end result of two weeks of experimenting. Pops and I got used to seeing everything but the kitchen sink simmering away on the stove. Acorns, nasturtium leaves, sassafras roots (that I had to dig up), and dandelion stems boiling away and sending their particular smells into the steamy kitchen. Only one new jam came of these long days of experimenting. Now orders come in daily for it. Mom calls it “Fabulous Five Fruit Medley.” I think helping with the household expenses makes Mom feel happier about everything.
    Pops has changed, too. He even looks younger. He went to a new doctor who gave him pills that put an end to his sneezing and wheezing. Often when he rides Lady bareback, people ask him if he used to be a trainer, or a jockey. He breaks into a big grin and his face gets red.
    I ride Lady Sue after school to keep her in shape. I ride her easy, thinking about her age. But she never pulls toward home even when we get close. She passes by our drive as if she’s just getting warmed up and wants to go on.
    At bedtime, I don’t hear worried voices talking about me anymore. The light under Mom and Pops’s bedroom door goes out earlier, letting me write in my diary until I’m ready for sleep. I don’t even toss and turn. We’re all too tired and happy, thanks to Lady Sue!

CHAPTER 7
NO TIME TO LOSE
    M ost of the neighbor kids ate lunch at the school cafeteria, but Molly hurried home every day to feed and water Lady Sue. Mrs. Moore was pleased to have Molly at home, even though it was Lady who claimed most of Molly’s attention. Only after the mare’s pail of water had been freshened and the measure of oats poured into her manger was Molly ready to wash up at the kitchen sink and sit down to her own bowl of soup and a peanut butter sandwich.
    Mrs. Moore usually remained standing at the door after Molly left again for school. It was a relief that Molly had grown to