Third-Time Lucky Read Free Page A

her bridle and was then ready to follow.
    “She’s great!” Smiling, Kirstie gave her nose a rub, appreciating the dished shape which gave her the look of a high-class Arabian. The pony’s eyes were large, her ears pointed, dainty again. Yet her withers were strong for a horse of her size, and when she walked forward, her stride was long and straight.
    “Yeah, well, don’t get too attached.” Lisa smiled as Kirstie remounted. They were ready to leave: Lisa with the pony’s saddle slung across Snowflake’s broad hindquarters, Kirstie and Lucky leading the runaway. “There’s an owner out there somewhere!” Lisa reminded her. “This pretty little lady has a home to go to, so don’t start making any plans!”
    “Neat work, honey!” Sandy Scott congratulated Kirstie as she took the appaloosa pony into the barn and found an empty stall in which to bed her down. “Someone’s gonna be real happy you and Lisa took the trouble to bring her in.”
    Kirstie’s mom had got back from leading the intermediate riders and heard the tale from Lisa. She’d just found time before the evening barrel race to come out and check the situation in the barn.
    “She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Kirstie spread an extra layer of hay to make sure the visitor was comfortable.
    “Yep. Pony of the Americas,” Sandy noted. “Eye-catching, that’s for sure. The breed began in Mason City, Iowa, back in the ’50s; a cross between a Shetland pony and an appaloosa mare. Now they’re everywhere.”
    “Should I put a blanket on her?” Kirstie asked, her voice edged with concern. “She’s still cold.”
    “OK.” Sandy leaned next door to unhitch a spare hay net from little Moonshine’s stall. The palomino foal nickered and came to poke her head around the corner. “Give the appie this to eat and plenty of fresh water. Then come on out to the corral. Barrel racing’s about ready to start.”
    So Kirstie worked fast to follow her mom, making a fuss of the appaloosa and giving her everything she might need to get over her ordeal by Deer Lake. When she emerged into the daylight, the first person she met up with in the sunny yard was Tommy Woodford, the San Luis vet’s fifteen-year-old son. The second person was Lisa.
    “Would you believe it!” Lisa cried, running over from the ranch house with a broad smile. “Word travels fast. We already found the appie’s owners!”
    “What appie?” Tommy wanted to know. Like his dad, he was dark haired and tanned. He wore a white T-shirt, jeans, a brown Stetson, and boots, ready to take part in the barrel racing contest. “What owners?”
    “Hold on a minute, Tommy!” Kirstie cut in. “What do you mean, you found them?”
    “I called my grandpa over at Lone Elm to tell him what happened. He called Smiley Gilpin at the Forest Guard station. Smiley had heard about some nine-year-old kid who fell off her pony yesterday afternoon near Red Eagle Lodge.”
    “But that’s by Bear Hunt Overlook,” Kirstie pointed out as the three of them walked toward the corral. A crowd of about thirty people had gathered at the fence, ready for the evening’s events. “Miles away from here.”
    “Yeah, but Grandpa called the family. Their name’s Gostin and they’re here on vacation. They have a lodge house along Timberline Trail. And the pony’s a white and black appie called Whisper.” Lisa checked the facts off on her fingers. “She’s been loose almost twenty-four hours, easily enough time for her to make her way over to Deer Lake.”
    “OK.” With a sigh Kirstie was forced to give in to the evidence. She grabbed the top rung of the fence and slung her leg over, settling in to watch the race. “It’s their pony for sure.”
    “Tough.” Lisa climbed up beside her and gave her a small, sympathetic grin. “But, hey, think of how great the Gostin kid’s gonna feel when she hears the news!”
    “The aim is to get around those barrels in the fastest time possible.” Tommy Woodford explained