A Horse Named Dragon Read online

  “What can my job be?” Violet asked cheerfully.

  “Your grandfather tells me you’re a wonderful artist,” said Cookie. “I’m putting you in charge of the barn project. That big barn over there faces the highway. Lots of people drive by every day. I’d like to paint a mural on the side.”

  “A mural?” asked Benny.

  “A big painting on the side of a building, or on a wall,” said Violet. “Like the dancing fruits and vegetables painted on the wall at Faber’s Finer Foods.”

  “Right,” said Cookie. “A nice big mural could show people that the Dare to Dream Ranch has horses to ride and horses to adopt.”

  Violet looked at the huge barn. “I … I don’t think I can paint that all my myself.”

  “You just make the drawing,” Cookie said. “Bucky here will round up our volunteers to do the painting.”

  Kurt Krupnik rode up. The ranch manager’s blond moustache was as dusty as his horse.

  “I think I know what happened to Honey and Bunny. A big tree branch fell on the fence in the far pasture,” he said. “It tore down a whole section. Honey and Bunny probably saw the opening and just walked on out of here. I’ve sent a couple of my men to look for them. You never should have called the police, Alyssa.”

  “I … I thought the horses were stolen,” Alyssa said.

  “If you had more experience, you wouldn’t panic.” Kurt looked at the horses in the corral. “Why is Dragon still up here?” He glared at Alyssa. “He’s supposed to be out in the west pasture, in the old corral.”

  Alyssa jutted her jaw. “I think his leg is healed.”

  “You’re not the vet,” Kurt said. “Dragon stays out in the old corral until Slim gives the okay.”

  “Let me take a look,” said Bucky. He climbed into the corral and lifted Dragon’s back leg.

  Jessie stared at Dragon’s shoe. Most horseshoes were shaped like a “U” but Dragon’s had a square toe. “What’s wrong with his foot?” she asked.

  “Oh, that’s nothing,” said Bucky. “I noticed that Dragon here liked to ‘wing it’ when he ran. Kicked his leg up to the inside. This square-toe shoe helps him run nice and straight.” He set Dragon’s foot back down. “His leg looks healed,” he said.

  Kurt frowned at the white-haired man. “No one rides Dragon until the vet checks him out,” he told Bucky.

  “You’re the boss,” said Bucky. He grabbed hold of Dragon’s bridle. “I’ll put him in his stall until Slim can look at him.”

  “You’d better,” Kurt grunted, riding off.

  “Why is Kurt so angry?” asked Henry.

  “He hates me,” said Alyssa. “He thinks I’m too young to be the head wrangler. He wanted his best friend, a wrangler in Kentucky, to get the job.”

  “Now, now,” said Cookie. “Kurt’s just looking out for the horses. I swear, sometimes he’s like a mother hen protecting her chicks.”

  Honk. Honk. A green van roared up to the corral and screeched to a stop. A woman jumped out. Her long hair flew crazily in all directions and her wrinkled clothes looked like she had slept in them. She waved a stack of purple flyers. “Have any of you seen my horse?” she asked, passing out flyers. They said:

  STOLEN HORSE—REWARD

  HAVE YOU SEEN BUTTERCUP?

  There was a phone number and a photo of a beautiful gray horse with a white patch on its nose. Its tail was white and black. “Buttercup’s been missing for two days,” said the lady.

  “Two of our horses are missing!” said Benny.

  The woman gasped. “Were they stolen, too?”

  “They may have walked out through a broken fence,” said Henry.

  Violet felt sorry for the lady, whose eyes were red from crying. “Maybe your horse wandered off, too,” she said.

  “No.” The woman’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Someone cut the lock on our gate. Buttercup was definitely stolen. Your missing horses may have been stolen, too.” Her hand trembled as she held up a flyer. “You should make flyers like this to pass out to people.”

  “I don’t have photographs of my horses,” Cookie said.

  “Then you’d better take some,” warned the woman as she climbed back in her van. “Right this very minute.” And she drove away.

  Jessie studied the flyer. “I brought my new birthday camera,” she said. “I can take photos of all the horses on the ranch.”

  “Are you sure? It seems like an awful lot of work,” Cookie said.

  “I’ll help,” said Violet. She held up the flyer. “This picture shows people exactly what Buttercup looks like.”

  Bucky walked by, leading Dragon by the bridle. He nodded at the flyer. “Too bad we don’t have photos like that of Honey and Bunny to show around.” He winked at Cookie. “It’s no use closing the barn door after the horses get out.”

  Cookie’s cheeks blushed red. “Oh, all right,” she said. “You girls best get started while the horses are still in the corral. Once we turn them out to pasture, they scatter every which way.” The girls ran off to get Jessie’s camera.

  “What’s my job?” Henry asked, eager to begin.

  “Your grandfather told me you’re handy with tools,” said Cookie. “I want you to saddle up and go help Kurt mend that broken fence.” Henry dashed off to saddle Lightning.

  “What about me?” asked Benny.

  “You’ll water the horses,” Cookie said. “That means filling water buckets, tanks, and barrels all around the ranch. Bucky has a map that shows where they are.”

  “Let me put Dragon in his stall,” Bucky told Benny. “Then I’ll get you started. Be right back.”

  Benny waited at the corral. He watched Henry throw a blanket over Lightning’s back, then cinch on the saddle. “It’s no fair,” he grumbled, when Bucky came back. “Henry gets to ride and I don’t.”

  “I’ll tell you a secret,” said Bucky. “Of all the jobs on the ranch, yours is the most important.”

  “Really?” said Benny.

  The old man pushed his hat back. “Benny, I’ve been a rancher over fifty years. And one thing I know is true is that horses can’t live without plenty of fresh water. Each one of them drinks ten to twenty-five gallons of water a day.” Benny pictured the big gallon milk bottle in his refrigerator back home. He tried to imagine drinking twenty-five of them. It made his stomach hurt just thinking about it.

  “Besides,” Bucky smiled, “watering the horses is the most fun job … and the coolest.” He took a map out of his pocket. “Here—this is a map of the ranch.” He pointed to a big circle in the middle. “Here’s the corral, where we are now. And these,” he pointed to small red Xes all around the map, “these are water containers that need filling.”

  “There’s so many,” sighed Benny. “I can’t fill them all.”

  “Sure you can. The trick is to start with the first one,” Bucky ran his finger up the map to the farthest X, “then fill the next and the next. Just take them one by one. Before you know it, you’ll be right back here in time for lunch.”

  Benny watched Henry climb up on Lightning and ride off across the pasture. “I really really really wish I could ride right now,” said Benny.

  “You’ll be riding soon enough,” said Bucky. “but, first …”

  “I know, I know,” said Benny, looking at all the Xes on the map, “first I need to go finish my mashed potatoes.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Tracking the Hoofprints

  Henry raced Lightning across the ranch. He rode and rode until he saw the huge branch that had crushed the wire fence. “Whoa, boy,” he said, pulling back on the reins. Henry climbed down and tied Lightning to a tree, then went to take a look. The heavy branch had pulled down two fence posts and snapped the fence wire. The ground was littered with small brown leaves and long brown pods from the tree branch.

  A shiny new car drove up the road near the broken fence. Slim the vet was driving, and he rolled down the window and waved to Henry. “What’s all this?” Slim asked, his Adam’s apple
bobbing.

  “The branch fell and broke the fence,” said Henry.

  Slim nodded. “So, that’s where Honey and Bunny escaped. Good to know they weren’t stolen. Well, I’m off to buy medicine for the horses. See you later.”

  Henry tried pulling the branch, but it was too big and heavy. Kurt drove up on a small tractor. In back were a big toolbox, rope, some fence wire, and a post digger.

  “That branch must have blown down during the night,” Kurt said. He picked up the rope and tossed one end to Henry. “Here, wrap this around the branch and I’ll pull it off with the tractor.”

  Henry went to work winding the rope around and around the branch. Jagged bark scraped his arms, and branches scratched his face. Sharp twigs snagged his clothes. The long brown pods slipped underfoot. Henry worked hard, tying the rope good and tight.

  “Ready,” he said.

  Whirrrrrr, whirrrrr. The tractor strained, slowly pulling the branch away from the fence. Dead leaves and pods fell off.

  “I’ll take this over to the burning pit,” Kurt said. “That’s where we pile the brush that needs burning. When I come back, we’ll fix this fence.” And he drove off, dragging the branch away.

  Henry patted Lightning as he leaned against the tree to wait for Kurt. Someone had carved a heart into the tree bark. Inside they’d carved TA + LM. The heart looked faded from many years of freezing winters and hot summers. There was a hole in the bark below the heart. No woodpecker made this hole. It was as big as Henry’s finger, and perfectly round. Someone drilled this hole. But why?

  He walked around the other side and found two more holes. A scrap of paper poked out of one.

  Henry reached up and pulled it out. Someone had written: Gray Arabian. Brown spotted pony. Maybe this was the way ranch hands left messages for each other, Henry thought.

  Lightning whinnied again. “Easy, now,” said Henry, putting the paper back. When Kurt returned, Henry would ask about the note, and about the heart carved into the tree.

  “Hold still!” cried Jessie.

  “I’m trying.” In the corral, Violet gripped the bridle of a white horse that kept pushing her with its nose.

  Jessie pointed the camera, trying to take a picture. “He keeps moving.”

  “That’s because he wants the whole apple.” Violet reached into her pocket and took out another piece of cut-up apple. “Get ready,” she said, holding the apple in her fist under the horse’s nose.

  Jessie aimed her camera until she could see the whole horse from its nose to its tail, and its ears to its hooves. “Ready!”

  Violet slowly opened her fingers. “Now!”

  Jessie clicked the camera as the horse gobbled the apple. “Got it!” said Jessie.

  Cookie brought tall glasses of lemonade to the girls. “You’re doing a fine job,” she said.

  “We’re only half done,” said Violet. “Dare to Dream has so many horses.”

  Cookie laughed. “This is nothing. When I was a little girl, we had a couple of hundred horses on this ranch. And we had cattle and chickens and I don’t know what-all. My folks had lots of help back then. Whole families lived here. My best friend, Trevor, lived right in that bunkhouse where you’re staying.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “Oh, how my six year-old heart broke when his family moved to Texas to start their own ranch.” She grew quiet for a moment. “That was a long, long time ago. Big ranching is too hard for an old woman like me. Now, I just keep a few horses for people like you and your grandfather to come and ride.”

  “We’re glad you do,” said Jessie.

  “And I started taking in rescue horses, trying to make them well,” said Cookie.

  “Does it cost a lot for people to adopt a rescue horse?” Violet asked.

  Cookie looked surprised. “Why, Violet, we don’t sell our horses. We give them away to good homes for free. I’m always trying to find people who want to adopt.”

  “We can help!” said Jessie. “We can put photos of the rescue horses on the Internet. That way, people all around the country can see them.”

  Cookie looked embarrassed. “I guess I should have done that a long time ago. Slim’s the only one around here who’s any good on the computer. He’s always going online to buy the horses’ medicines and such. I’m afraid that I’m not much good on the computer.”

  “We’re good on the computer,” said Jessie. “We’ll teach you.”

  “Goldfish?” Benny bent over a big old bathtub someone set in a pasture. Inside, swimming around the horse’s drinking water, were several bright goldfish.

  “Yup,” said Bucky. He took off his hat with the feathers and wiped sweat off his forehead. “Horses are messy drinkers, always dropping in bits of grass and hay from their mouths. Also, mosquitoes lay their eggs in water. These goldfish love to eat all that stuff. They keep the drinking water clean and help cut down on mosquitoes.”

  Benny’s eyes grew wide. “But … but don’t the horses eat the fish?”

  “Nope,” said Bucky. “Watch.” A colt and its mother walked over for a drink. As soon as they put their noses into the bathtub, all the fish swam to the other side and stayed up near the top. When the horses finished drinking, the goldfish swam back down in the tub. “Pretty good trick, huh?” said Bucky.

  “My dog Watch does some tricks,” said Benny. “But I didn’t know you could train goldfish.” He picked up the hose and added fresh water to the bathtub.

  “Good job,” said Bucky. He held his hand under the hose and wiped cold water over his face. “Where do you go next?”

  Benny spread out the map and studied the Xes. He’d filled most of the water cans and buckets. But there were a few left before he reached the corral. “Here,” he said, pointing.

  “That’s right,” said Bucky. “You can finish the rest on your own. I’ve got to help unload the new shipment of feed. See you at lunch.”

  Benny felt very grown-up. He had to do an important job by himself. If he didn’t water the horses, they would go thirsty. If they went thirsty, they’d get sick. He would not let them down. “See you tomorrow,” he said to the goldfish, then ran to the next X on the map.

  This X marked a small wooden shed with a fence around it. It was out in a pasture all by itself. As Benny unhooked the water bucket from the fence, a pony peeked out from the shed. It was all brown without a single speck of white or black. The mane between its ears stood straight up, like the bristles on Mrs. McGregor’s scrub brush. “Hi, Brownie,” said Benny. The brown pony tilted its head and stepped out of the stall. It watched Benny clean the bucket and fill it with water.

  Benny accidentally splashed the pony. “Sorry, Brownie.” The pony snorted.

  Benny laughed. “I’ll bet that water felt nice and cool.”

  A dark blue pickup truck rattled along the pasture road. It pulled a small silver trailer carrying two horses. The trailer was covered with little dinosaur stickers. Benny noticed that the front license plate had a picture of a cowboy on a bucking bronco. Benny tried to sound out the name of the state. It began with a W and had a “y” in it.

  “Hey, kid,” called the driver. He was a skinny man with bright red hair. Instead of a cowboy hat, he wore a white baseball cap turned backwards. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed up and down like Slim’s. “Which way to the main house?”

  Benny opened his map and set it on the ground. He tried to figure out how to get to the main house from where they were.

  “Come on,” said the man, “I haven’t got all day.”

  Benny pointed. “I … I think it’s over that way.” The man drove off without even saying thank you.

  The brown pony snorted again. It looked hot. Benny pointed the hose at the sky. The spray fell like rain. The pony whinnied and stuck his nose in the spray. Then he walked right through. Then he walked through again.

  “You’d like running through our sprinklers back home,” said Benny. The water ran off the pony and onto the ground. It puddled around Benny’s feet. Luckily, Benny wore t
he yellow rubber work boots Bucky gave him. He filled the pony’s drinking bucket nice and full.

  “See you tomorrow,” he told the brown pony.

  A breeze brought smells of something cooking. Benny’s mouth watered. He hurried off to finish his work. Just a few more water buckets to clean and fill, and then he could dig into Cookie’s delicious lunch.

  Out in the pasture, Henry paced up and back along the broken fence. When was Kurt coming back with the tractor? It was boring just waiting around with nothing to do. He walked to the hole in the fence. Carefully, he stepped over the leaves, brown seed pods, and broken fence wire to the other side. A dirt path ran between the fence and the road. Henry saw hoofprints going out of the pasture onto the dirt. It looked like Kurt was right—Honey and Bunny had just walked away.

  Alyssa rode up. “What did you find?” asked the wrangler. Henry showed her the hoofprints. She smiled with relief. “Thank goodness they weren’t stolen.”

  “Why do people steal horses?” Henry asked.

  “To sell, or else to keep for themselves without having to pay,” Alyssa said. “I never thought it could happen here because we give our rescue horses away. Who would steal a horse that they could have for free?” She took off her red hat and used it to shoo flies from her horse’s ears. “But when Honey and Bunny disappeared, and that woman brought flyers of her stolen horse …” Alyssa turned her horse around. “Thanks, Henry. Honey and Bunny won’t have walked far. We’ll find them.” She rode away.

  Henry walked farther, following the hoofprints along the side of the road. Suddenly, the tracks stopped. Had the horses walked out onto the road? Henry looked, but there wasn’t a single hoofprint there. He knelt down. Tire tracks began where the hoofprints stopped.

  Fear prickled the back of Henry’s neck. His heart raced as he followed the tire tracks. Honey and Bunny hadn’t wandered off! Someone had loaded them into a truck and stole them away. Henry ran back and untied Lightning from the tree. Then he rode as fast and as hard as he could to tell Kurt what he’d found.