Horse Trade Read Free Page B

the difference between you and Rachel,” Phil said.
    “I should hope so!” Stevie said, going with Phil to the tack room to get No-Name’s bridle and saddle.
    Phil lifted No-Name’s bridle from its peg and a saddle from a brace along the wall. “The vet told us that hives can be serious. They start at the muzzle and spread backward, sometimes all the way to the tail. Horses can itch them into sores. They can develop an asthmatic condition, too. And anytime a horse is stressed, he can develop digestive problems, and that means colic.”
    “Really?” Stevie said. She frowned. That
did
sound serious. Colic could be life threatening.
    They walked back outside, and Stevie looked at No-Name’s high, intelligent head and brown eyes. She couldn’t stand the thought that something might happen to her. From now on, Stevie decided, she would keep a special eye on the beautiful mare. If she could, she would find out what was causing No-Name’s terrible hives.
    Quickly Stevie tacked up the horse and then mounted her. As she sank gently into the saddle, she sighed with pleasure. This was always one of her favorite moments—feeling herself rise into a different world.
    She applied slight pressure with her knees, and No-Name began to walk, tail up, hooves making a brisk clatter on the dirt. No-Name was strong, highly athletic, and seemed to possess a sense of humor, just like Stewball. Somehow, sitting on No-Name’s back made Stevie miss Stewball a little less. As she eased herself into an erect, but flexible, riding posture, Stevie thought that No-Name didn’t have Stewball’s long, loping Western stride. Instead No-Name had a clipped, precise English gait, and this was good. Stevie liked Western riding—it was good for a change of pace—but English was what she had learned first and what would always be her favorite.
    Phil was at the gate on Teddy. “Ready?”
    “Ready.”
    Phil bent down, opening the wooden gate. Teddy, who had done this a hundred times, took slow, measured steps while Phil held the gate.
    Prancing and sniffing, No-Name walked through the gate. “She needs exercise,” Stevie said. “She’s been cooped up too long.”
    “She needs everything,” Phil said, “but most of all she needs someone who cares about her.”
    Stevie could tell that Phil was right. She responded so readily to affection and attention—it was as if she needed a special friend.
    “She deserves the best,” said Phil.
    Stevie glanced over at him. She knew Phil loved horses—all horses, just as she did—but he seemed particularly concerned about No-Name. Stevie had a sudden twinge of curiosity. “You’re not planning to sell Teddy and buy No-Name instead?” she asked.
    Phil shook his head. “Teddy’s the one for me.”
    As they rode through the hay field behind Phil’s house, the horses looked longingly at the long alfalfa stems with purple blossoms. This was the last crop of the year, and the stems of the alfalfa were thick and juicy and the blooms were fat. Winter was coming, and soon the animals would be living on hay. Stevie kept a firm rein on No-Name, letting her know that now was not the right time for feeding. It was bad discipline to let a horse eat with a rider on her back.
    When they got to Cross County, the other riders were milling around, getting ready. Riders could be the slowest people on earth, Stevie decided. So she and Phil climbed off their horses and sat on top of the wooden fence, letting the horses graze in the grass and weeds at the bottom of the fence.
    “Maybe No-Name is allergic to hay,” Stevie commented.Her head was still filled with thoughts about what had caused No-Name’s hives.
    “That could be,” Phil mused. “But she hasn’t had an attack since we got her, and she’s been eating hay in her stall”
    “Hmmm,” said Stevie. “It’s going to be complicated figuring out what she’s allergic to.”
    “I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Phil agreed.
    At this moment the