Jack stood rock still. Fury filled his face, and I saw his jaw clench when he spotted Twaziem’s prominent hipbones. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Who did this? Why?”

  I walked up beside Twaziem, and Mom passed me the rope from inside the trailer. I encouraged him to back a couple more steps until he was totally out of the trailer. “It wasn’t his owner’s fault. She was in the hospital for cancer treatments and her grandkids stopped feeding him.”

  “He’s a walking skeleton,” Bill said. “Didn’t the cops do anything?”

  “I did something.” I petted Twaziem’s neck, calming him when he stamped a hoof. “I brought him home. Now, quit acting macho. He doesn’t like it.”

  “I know you said you were getting the worst horse you could find, Robin, but this one is beyond it,” Vicky told me. “He’s awful.”

  A dreadful silence descended on everyone after Vicky’s comment, and I wished the ground would open up and swallow me, and Twaz. Of course, it didn’t. I’d have to save both of us. Why, oh, why, did Vicky choose now to repeat my childish promise? I glanced at Felicia. If she’d ratted me out, I’d have expected it. We’d sniped at each other a lot over the years, but we were sisters and we fought. Vicky was my best friend. She was supposed to stick up for me.

  For once, my parents had been proud of me. For once, I hadn’t been a washed out copy of Felicia or less than perfect Jack. For once, I’d been part of the family, not an outsider! I knew it wouldn’t last. It never did, but I could hope, couldn’t I?

  “I said it,” I admitted, “but I was really ticked off when I didn’t get my car and...”

  Support came from a surprising corner. Mom sighed as she stepped out of the trailer, shaking her head. “And here I figured Felicia and I were the only ones who vented first and thought later. We’ll have to be a lot more careful, Robin. It’s amazing how ‘boot in mouth’ comes back to haunt a person.”

  “And Grandma always says to keep ‘your words short and sweet, since you never know which ones you have to eat.’ Smart advice, huh?” Jack was next to Vicky, holding her hand, like she needed his support too.

  I forced myself to look past them to Felicia and my dad. She winked at me and he grinned. Tears stung my eyes. The last thing I’d expected was for them to understand why I’d been so mean about my birthday and the present they wanted to give me, the traditional present that Felicia and Jack got when they turned sixteen.

  Slowly, I realized the truth. My family was sticking up for me because Vicky and Bill were here. Nobody mentioned Jack’s art or poetry when the football guys were around. We didn’t talk about Felicia’s love for classical music when her rock band wanted to practice in the garage. Of course, they all were mad at me. They just wouldn’t tell me how disappointed and angry they were when we had an audience.

  I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat, unable to speak.

  Jack let go of Vicky and came up close to my horse, shaking his head. “A lousy bay and he’s not setting one hoof in my barn.”

  “Don’t be mean about Twaz,” I said. “And if I can put up with Nitro, you can deal with me having a horse.”

  “I said ‘lousy’ and I meant it.” Jack pointed to Twaziem’s right side. “Watch that patch. It’s moving. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not a paint. It’s not a usual coloration for Morabs. Breeders try real hard for it.”

  I stepped around to the other side and looked at the spot, a huge yellow stain on Twaziem’s barrel. It moved. The whole thing crawled toward his neck and face. And I’d been petting him. My stomach lurched. “Oh, my Gawd!”

  “Gross,” Bill said, but he sounded awestruck and horrified at the same time. “I so have to video this and put it online. Let me get my phone.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Mom told him. “I’m not having Animal Control out here beating on the door when your video goes viral.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t see that,” Felicia said, moving closer to inspect Twaz. “I assumed he was a paint and needed a good grooming or a bath for his patches to be white and the proper color.”

  “Maybe you should send him to be dog food,” Vicky said. “It’s not that far to Stanwood, only twenty some miles.”

  “We’re not going there and neither is he,” Jack said. “The cows, pigs, and chickens get lice, and we treat for them twice a year. It’s a normal part of farm life. We’ll just dust him before he goes into the barn.”

  “Makes sense.” Dad came and took the lead from me, ignoring Twaziem’s snort, and issuing orders. “Jack, get the powder out of the vet cabinet. Robin, you ladies are headed for the showers. I’ll send the halter to be disinfected as soon as we take it off him. Bill, pull the truck around to the other side of the house and start fumigating the trailer.”

  “Come on, girls,” Mom said. “We’ll leave the messy business to the menfolk. I’m so up for that.”

  “I really don’t see the necessity.” Felicia took on her know-it-all persona, with its irritating, authoritative tone. “Horses normally have a 101.5 degree temperature and healthy humans are at 98.7 degrees, so the likelihood that Twaziem’s lice migrated to us is extremely rare—”

  “Except that he’s debilitated,” Dad said. “I’m not taking his temperature now. I’m just treating the symptoms, and you don’t want me throwing you into the utility shower, clothes, and all, Felicia Joyce. Move it. And wash your hair too!”

  Vicky wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I’ll help with the horse trailer. I’m not hanging out while you shower, Robin.”

  “You don’t have to help,” I said. “You can watch TV in my room if you want or use my computer to cruise the Internet.”

  “Later,” Vicky told me with a toss of her hair. “It may be yucky around here, but it’s a lot better than my sister’s diapers. Hey, can we order in pizzas?”

  I had to laugh. Only my best friend could jump from lice to junk food in less than a heartbeat. “Sure. You’re the greatest, Vick.”

  I got a funny look from her and another from my sister who waited to walk with me toward the house. “What?”

  “She’s acting like such a twit,” Felicia whispered. “And you’re actually being pretty nice to her. What’s up?”

  “Same old, same old,” I said, with a shrug. “Vicky’s still picking up all the slack around the house since her parents’ divorce. And this is the only place where she’s allowed to be a kid and complain. But, if she stays on my case, I will nail her. You don’t get to. She’s been my best friend forever.”

  The Penny Pony

  The Horse Rescuers #1

  by Shannon Kennedy

  Chapter One

  ~ We Find Rosie ~

  The trouble started on a hot afternoon the week after I turned fifteen. I was doing surgery in my bedroom, trying to glue or tape the leg back on an old Breyer horse, when I heard a rock hit the screen on my window. I looked out and saw my best friend, Addie Davis, getting ready to throw another one.

  “Hey!” I yelled out the window. “Stop! You’re going to break something.”

  “Hi, Piper,” she said. “You still sick? I haven’t seen you since your birthday party when you started throwing up. You don’t answer your phone.”

  “I’m okay now, but I broke my phone. Mom says I have to buy the new one with my own money,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “I want to show you something. Come out.”

  “Just a minute,” I said. My mother was mad at me. Would she let me go? I decided that yes, she would let me go out. Since I almost always guessed wrong about things like this, I tiptoed down the hall and out the back door to be sure she didn’t have a chance to mind. My mother had been very unreasonable lately. I had her straight brown hair and skinny body, but not her temper.

  Motioning for Addie to be quiet, I led her through the trees at the edge of our yard and into a small cluster of lilac bushes owned by our neighbors. When they bloomed, they had the best smell in the world, but they were done now and it was hot su
mmer. Out of sight of my house, I turned to her.

  “Are you in trouble?” Addie asked. Stupid question. I was usually in trouble.

  “Not really,” I said. “I think I should lay low for a while.”

  “You are, too, in trouble,” said Addie. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Okay, I broke some good plates, but I didn’t mean to. I was trying to juggle them. What did you want to show me?”

  “It’s over by the drugstore.” Addie started walking toward Main Street. Serendipity Springs, Kentucky, was a very small town. The good thing about small towns: everyone knew you, so you could walk anywhere. People said “Hi,” and might give you treats. The bad thing about small towns: Everyone knew you; they kept an eye on what you were doing and asked about your parents. See, I was getting used to Mom and Dad being divorced, but I wished everyone else would get over it and quit asking me about it. I mean, it had been a year now and all the arguing and fighting was over. If I was able to move on, why couldn’t the rest of the town? They picked at it like a scab that was still sore, and I guessed it was.

  We walked two blocks, past old houses and old trees dreaming in the hot summer sun. The bare ground had cracks in it from the heat, and even the weeds at the side of the road were drying up. Addie’s brown hair had gone crazy curly with the humidity, and we were both sweaty. Pretty soon, we saw the vacant lot across from the drugstore with its large yellow sign: PONY RIDES- $2.00.

  We crossed over to the sign and the low rail fence enclosing part of the vacant lot. At a corner of the fence was a hitching post with a small spotted horse dozing under a heavy western saddle. About ten sacks of feed leaned upright against the fence, next to an old rusty aqua and white trailer. There were no people in sight. We stared for a few minutes at the scrawny animal sweating in the sun.

  “She looks exactly like Dotty,” I murmured.

  “Who’s Dotty?” Addie wanted to know.

  “A pony I used to ride out at Miss Julie’s. Miss Julie Applegate? The pony died years ago, and she looked just like that, only not so skinny.” I touched the horsehair worry bracelet I always wore. It was brown and white and made from Dotty’s mane. I twisted it when I was nervous. We walked over close to the hitching post, and I shook my head sadly as I looked at the thin little horse. Her bony shoulders, ribs and hips stuck out; her matted mane and tail needed brushing.

  “When Dad sees horses like this one,” I told Addie, “he explains to the owners that they should worm their animals and feed them better. We both think people should have to pass a test to own animals.”

  “So, is it a pony or a horse?” Addie asked.

  “Well, it goes by the breeds. You can have a large pony and a small horse that are about the same size. And cow ponies are really horses: they’re only called ponies. Dotty was a POA pony, a Pony of the Americas, but she was pretty good-sized.”

  My dad was a veterinarian, and sometimes when there was no school, I got to go on farm calls with him. I helped out by holding things and handing stuff to him when he needed it. He explained to me as he worked, so I knew a lot about horses and medicine. I had made it my business to learn as much as I can for when I have my own horse. I’d been saving my baby sitting money, but now I had to use the little I’d saved to buy a new cell phone.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” I said as I ran my hand down the pony’s bony shoulder and shooed away some flies that her tail couldn’t reach. I bent over and checked under her belly. I knew how to tell a mare from a gelding, and this was a mare. She had patches of brown on her creamy body, just like Dotty, and even had the same white tips on her ears, making them look like feathers. My eyes prickled with tears when I saw the raw sores on her legs, probably from being hobbled with ropes.

  “She looks terrible,” said Addie. In answer, the pony yawned and licked her lips as though asking for water. She looked at me with huge, sad eyes, whuffed at me, then closed her eyes again.

  “You girls want a ride? You got two bucks, you can ride her,” a loud, rough voice said. A fat, oily man walked toward us. He smelled sweaty and wore a lime-green Hawaiian shirt.

  “She needs some water, mister,” I stated, staring up at him. “It’s hot today and she’s thirsty.” Even if I had any money in my shorts pocket, I wouldn’t give it to him.

  “And she’s hungry, too,” added Addie.

  The smelly man lost his grin for a moment, and I saw something mean in his beady blue eyes. Then he put his fake smile back on for us. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about Rosie. She’s fine. Just came back to feed and water her, in fact. Why don’t you girlies run home and get some money and tell your friends about the pony ride? We’ll be here till five o’clock.”

  “Okay, mister,” I said, needing to get away and think about this.

  “Name’s Jake,” he said, mopping sweat from his face. “See you later.”

  “Piper,” said Addie, as we walked away. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But we have to help her. We can’t wait. We have to do something!” I glanced back over my shoulder and saw Jake’s enormous bulk settling itself in a folding chair in the shade. He was talking on his cell phone and ignoring the pony. As we watched from behind a car, some creep in a dirty tank top crouched down by Jake’s chair and started talking to him quietly. Jake got up and went into the small beat-up trailer. The skinny, creepy guy followed him.

  “Look,” I said. “He lied about feeding and watering her. He’s another grown-up that can’t be trusted. What a jerk!”

  “Can we take her some food and water later when he’s gone?”

  “Yes, I think we should, but we should also turn Jake in for animal neglect. We have to protect that pony from him.”

  “Who do we tell about him?” Addie asked. “How about your dad? He’s the only vet in town.”

  “I don’t think he can help. He’s pretty busy, but let’s go try,” I said. Maybe Dad was at the clinic and not out on a farm call. We could only hope. We headed down Main Street, wondering aloud to each other how long a horse could live without food and water.

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