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time.”
    Tanya’s eyes focused on Morgan’s wheelchair. “Hey, I’ve been wanting to know how come you’re in that thing.”
    â€œCerebral palsy,” Morgan answered, “and it’s not a thing. It’s a Jazzy, and I do just fine in this thing, thank you. Hey Tanya, how do you feel about starting at Madison next Monday? I mean, that’s a little red schoolhouse compared to your fancy academy in Philly. And what are you doing with all these books?” Her glance swept the room.
    â€œHello! I read them,” Tanya sassed. “What do you do with your books? Make paper airplanes? Use them as firewood? As soon as the man puts my shelves together, these books will be lined up in alphabetical order and ready for business. I brought only my favorites with me. I still have hundreds at home.”
    Skye surveyed the room and decided there were hundreds in this room as well. “So that’s what you’ve been doin’ the last two days. And, duh, of course we read books, but not by the dozens. You must really, really like to read. And just in case you’re interested, I think there are about 120 kids in your eighth grade at Madison. Oh, and one of them is Robin Ward. You just gotta meet her. She’s too cool.”
    Tanya busied herself rearranging the books on the desk. “At Ridgecrest Academy I had only a few choice friends. It depends on what your hang-ups are, and the things you like and all that get you together with other kids. I’ll clue you in right now. Winning the Miss Friendship Award is not one of my goals at Madison. I have other things to occupy my mind. Nine times out of ten, I choose to spend time with me. I have my books and mp3 player—well—just my books here. How do you cope with not listening to rock and rap? I’ll go out of my mind!”
    â€œLike, that’s it? Reading?” asked Skye. “Don’t you have any hobbies? Like sports or playing an instrument or—yeah, like riding horses? You’re living with some now, just in case you haven’t noticed.”
    â€œI hate horses! They stink! I hope I never have to go near them again,” Tanya complained.
    â€œOh, this oughta be real good,” Skye said. “You’re living at Keystone Stables, and you don’t wanna be near horses? Tanya, something tells me your brain was in smarts withdrawal. Everybody who lives here learns to ride—and helps with barn chores.”
    â€œNot me! They can’t make me,” Tanya smarted off. “Trust me! My mother will stop it. All I have to do is cry in front of her.”
    â€œWell, we’ll just see,” Skye informed her.
    â€œâ€˜Why don’t you like horses?” Morgan asked.
    â€œMan, you guys are nosy. What is this, the third degree?” Tanya stood, shoved the chair sharply against the desk, hurried to the door, and then flung it open. “Just leave me alone!”

Chapter three
    S aturday afternoon, between Tanya’s griping about the food and the size of her “pathetic” room, Skye managed to show her the rest of Keystone Stables. Although a touch of fresh snow was swirling and dancing with the wind, the sun in the deep blue sky helped thaw things out enough for the girls to go on a short tour on the four-wheeler.
    The girls wrapped up in clothes that easily would have taken them to the top of Mount Everest. Moving like starched dolls, they put helmets and goggles on. Skye promised, promised, promised to drive slowly and safely. Tanya griped her way onto the back of the four-wheeler, and they took off down the road along the fenced pasture. Skye showed her the picnic grove, trails through the woods, Piney Hollow, and the magnificent view of Shade Valley from the hill behind the barn. In about a half hour, they pulled up in front of the barn, their faces fiery red from the cutting wind.
    Tanya slid off the four-wheeler and yanked off her helmet. “No