Riding Class Read Free

nails, The Saddle Club walked toward the back of the stable to get more. The stable was bigger than it looked from the front. Probably, Carole thought, casting an eye over it, there was room for sixteen horses, maybe more. Free Rein still had room to expand.
    “The door’s open,” she said. “It wasn’t before.”
    Stevie grinned. “Let’s look.”
    “I’m not sure we’re supposed to go in there,” Lisa objected.
    “Why not?” Stevie asked. “They must need help in thebarn, too. We could muck stalls or something. Listen! Someone’s already working.”
    “Back it up,” The Saddle Club heard an authoritative voice say from the stable aisle. “Now whoa, stand still. That’s it. Good boy.”
    “Someone’s talking to a horse,” Carole said. Her eyes gleamed.
    “Where did you find all this mud?” the voice continued. “P.C., it’s going to take me forever to get you clean!” The voice sounded like a girl—a girl about the age of The Saddle Club. They walked through the stable door. At the other end of the aisle a stocky palomino stood on cross-ties. On the far side of the horse stood a slight girl with brunet hair.
    “Hi!” Carole said, walking toward her, with Stevie and Lisa close behind. “Can we help?”
    The girl looked up and smiled. “I’m fine,” she said.
    “We were hoping to do something with the horses,” Lisa explained. “How did you get the job?” She moved toward the side of the horse and stopped. The girl wore metal braces on both her legs. She leaned heavily on one cuffed crutch and groomed the palomino awkwardly with her other hand.
    “P.C.’s my horse,” the girl said. She turned to look at them, and as she did, the tip of her crutch slipped on theconcrete floor. She crashed to the ground. Her crutch hit the horse hard on the knees, and she rolled right between his forelegs.
    The Saddle Club gasped. If the horse moved, the girl would be trampled!

C AROLE KNEW JUST what to do. Walking quickly but calmly, she moved to the horse’s head and held it still. “Lisa, Stevie,” she directed, “help her!” Stevie reached for the girl, but the girl shook her head.
    “Please don’t hold my horse,” she said, politely but firmly. “He’s fine. You don’t need to help me. Just give me room.”
    Carole dropped her hands from the horse’s halter, feeling embarrassed. Hadn’t she done the right thing? She knew not to spook the horse, and it certainly looked as if the girl needed help. The girl was struggling to get herweight underneath her and the cuff of the crutch around her left arm. Meanwhile her horse stood like a stone statue. He hadn’t moved, Carole realized, not even when the girl had fallen. “Good boy,” Carole said softly to him.
    Stevie had been ready to rush in and lift the girl back to her feet. It was a Saddle Club rule: Help whenever help was needed. Not just when help was wanted, but when it was needed. Maybe the girl didn’t want their help, but did she need it? Stevie felt her fingers itch with impatience. She forced herself to stand still.
    When Stevie had overheard the girl talking to her horse, she had thought the girl was another rider, like The Saddle Club. But now, staring at the girl’s leg braces and crutches and the slow, tense way she moved, Stevie thought that the girl wasn’t actually anything like them at all.
    Then she realized that she had thought wrong. Take away the leg braces and the girl looked just like them. She was dressed the same, in a sweater, jeans, and paddock boots. Her shiny brown hair was pulled into a ponytail. And obviously she loved horses.
    The girl used one of the horse’s sturdy legs to pull herself to her feet. She leaned against him unsteadily and gave him a pat. “Way to go, buddy,” she told him. “Another gold star for you.” She turned to The Saddle Club and smiled. “I’m Emily. Emily Williams.”
    “I’m Lisa Atwood,” Lisa said. She introduced the rest of The Saddle Club. “We’re with Horse