Buttercup Mystery Page 2

  Willa had never seen anything like it. “We can really make that much energy? On a bike?”

  Lena nodded. “Whatever we make I get to take home.”

  “I’m next!” yelled Chipper. He rushed forward and climbed through the fence’s wooden rails.

  “Then me!” Ben said, right on Chipper’s heels. They lined up next to the bike.

  Willa bit her lip. At least Ben wasn’t worried about fitting in.

  Sarah grabbed her hand. Willa ducked under the fence behind her friend. Sarah was great. She introduced her to all the other kids. Then Lena motioned for them to sit down with her at the center picnic table.

  “This is a big party,” Willa said.

  “I know,” Lena admitted. “My mom’s on the PTA and she works at the museum, so I have to invite everyone.” She pushed her beaded braids over her shoulder. “But even if it were a small party, I would have invited you, Willa.”

  Willa smiled, but she didn’t know what to say to the birthday girl.

  “Hey, Sarah,” a kid called from the line by the bike. “Bet I can make more energy than you.” Sarah glanced over her shoulder but then turned back around. “Time me,” he yelled. “I can go five minutes.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sarah answered, not even making eye contact with the boy. As soon as he had taken his place on the bike, Sarah glared at Lena. “Yick,” she whispered. “Did you have to invite Jasper Langely?” Willa had never seen Sarah look so disgusted, not even when Sarah stepped in their barn cat’s throw-up—in her bare feet.

  Lena leaned forward as if the three girls were sharing the juiciest secret. “Jasper’s not that bad. My mom always works with his mom at the carnival.” Willa glanced at the boy again. In the midday sun, she could see sweat popping up where his pale blond hair parted. He scowled as his legs whizzed around on the pedals.

  Sarah turned to Willa. “He has been in my class every year. He’s pretty smart, but he always wants to bet on who will get the best grade on a test. It’s annoying.”

  “You should take that bet,” Lena suggested. “You always get the highest score.”

  “Nope,” Sarah said, smoothing the creases from her skirt. “If I say yes once, he’ll bug me all the time. He will bet on anything!”

  A few minutes later Jasper called to Sarah again. “I bet I’ve churned enough ice cream for three giant sundaes.”

  “Good!” Lena responded. “That’s enough for Sarah, Willa, and me. Thanks.”

  “Come on, Sarah,” Jasper begged. “Take a turn.”

  “No,” Sarah replied. “I’m saving my energy for barn chores so I can ride in the carnival parade.”

  “No way!” Jasper exclaimed, climbing off the bike. “How come you get to ride? You haven’t before.”

  “Neither have you.” Sarah turned to face Jasper. After a pause, she added, “My dad got a new horse, so he’s going to let me ride Sweetums.”

  “That old nag? I’m riding my dad’s horse, Wrangler.”

  “Sweetums isn’t old,” Willa said, defending Sarah’s favorite.

  “Like you know anything about horses,” Jasper said, looking Willa up and down. “You aren’t even from Chincoteague.”

  Willa felt a knot in her stomach. How could he say that?

  Jasper turned back to Sarah. “There’s no way you’ll get to ride.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Sarah questioned.

  “Yeah. You wanna bet?”

  “Sure.”

  It wasn’t long before they agreed on the terms of the bet. All Sarah had to do was ride in the parade, and she would win. If she didn’t get to ride, she would lose. The loser had to buy the winner the biggest ice-cream sundae on the Four Corners menu.

  “It’s a deal.” Jasper and Sarah shook hands.

  “Whoa, the biggest sundae? That’s the one with the homemade brownie, the caramel, and the fudge,” Lena pointed out.

  “I know,” Sarah said. “It’s my favorite. I have to win. And prove that Jasper Langely doesn’t know everything!”

  Chapter 4

  THE DAY AFTER THE PARTY, Willa had an idea. It was a great idea. If Sarah was doing chores to be in the parade, maybe she could too. More than anything, Willa would love to ride Starbuck in the parade. But that was a long shot. She hadn’t even been able to ride Starbuck at Miller Farm yet. Still, Willa was willing to do lots of chores. She wanted Grandma to see how responsible she could be.

  “I need to go to Miller Farm,” Willa announced at breakfast. “I’m going to ask Grandma Edna if I can have some regular chores.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Mom said between sips of coffee. “Why don’t you start here first? I’ll give you chores.”

  Willa’s shoulders drooped. “What kind of chores?”

  “Any kind. All kinds!” Mom sounded excited. “When the inn opens up, this place is going to have to run like clockwork. Your dad and I will need your help.”

  Hearing this, Willa had a hard time swallowing her toast. Ben had a hard time hiding a smirk, until Mom spoke again. “Ben, you’ll need some chores of your own.” His smirk disappeared.

  After breakfast, the brother and sister met in Willa’s room. Willa had a clipboard. “We have to make a list of chores. Chores we can do, so the house runs like clockwork,” Willa said.

  “Our house will never run like clockwork. Unless the clock is broken,” Ben said.

  It was a joke, but it was also true. The Dunlaps had bad habits. They ran late. Their dirty laundry piles grew to the size of mountains. Mail and homework stacks were lopsided towers on the dinner table.

  “Why did you have to volunteer us for chores?” Ben asked.

  “I wanted to do chores at the farm, so I can ride in the parade,” Willa explained. “Like Sarah.”

  “You think Mom would let you?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah. But Grandma is going to be a harder sell.” Willa had heard her dad use that phrase. It meant that it wasn’t easy to convince someone. It would be hard to sell them on your idea. Grandma Edna might be the hardest sell of all time.

  “Yeah, you’re right. But riding in the parade would be fun,” admitted Ben. “We’d be real Chincoteague kids then.”

  Willa looked at Ben. He had a faraway look in his eyes. Did he want to ride in the parade too?

  “Let’s start in the bathroom,” Willa said. “First off, towels should not be on the floor. We have a towel rack for that.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “The towels always slip off,” he complained.

  “Then use the hook on the back of the door,” Willa suggested as she filled out her chore chart. “Let’s look at your room.”

  They came up with a good list together.

  Throw dirty clothes in the laundry basket.

  Make beds.

  Park bikes in the barn.

  Sweep decks.

  Water flowers.

  “I also told Mom we’d put our dirty dishes in the sink and take turns setting the table,” Willa said after they had taken a full tour of the house.

  “I told her we’d feed New Cat,” Ben told his sister.

  “That seems like a good start,” Willa stated, hoping they’d still have time for chores at Miller Farm.

  “I also said we’d look after Mrs. Cornett’s chickens,” Ben added, “but only when they get in our yard.” Their neighbor had a lot of chickens. Some of the chickens liked to visit the Dunlaps’ backyard. The hens pecked in the grass and at the orange flowers on the fence. Ben really liked the chickens.

  “Okay,” murmured Willa. “Let’s not volunteer for anything else, or we won’t have any time left.”

  “Okay,” agreed Ben. The two went to find Mom.

  “This will be so helpful,” Mom said as she reviewed the checklist. “You can get started now. Once you’re done, you can go to Sarah and Chipper’s or the farm. Grandma said she wants you there first thing tomorrow. She said it’s going to be a big day.”

  Willa’s mind leaped at the news. A big day? They were going to get to ride
Starbuck. She was sure of it! She really wanted to tell Sarah, but she didn’t want to jinx it. She closed her eyes and wished she were right.

  “Buttercup is acting weird,” Sarah said when Willa arrived at the Starlings’. “She’s not as peppy as when she showed up.”

  “Maybe she was just showing off at first,” Chipper said. “Maybe she’s not a peppy pony at all.”

  Sarah shook her head.

  “Buttercup,” Bess yodeled, waving a fistful of grass and clover. “Flowers for Buttercup!” Bess thrust them through the fence.

  The tall chestnut horse dragged her hooves over to Bess. She reached out her long, neck and nibbled at the stems in Bess’s hand.

  “Dad just looked at her this morning and sighed,” Sarah said. “What if he decides not to ride Buttercup in the parade?”

  Willa knew exactly what Sarah was thinking. Of course she was concerned about the new horse, but it was more than that. If Mr. Starling didn’t ride Buttercup in the parade, Sarah couldn’t ride Sweetums. If Sarah didn’t ride Sweetums, Sarah would lose the bet with Jasper.

  Chapter 5

  THE NEXT MORNING, WILLA AND Ben rode their bikes to their grandparents’ place in near silence. They were both thinking of the same thing.

  “You can go first,” Willa said. They propped their bikes against the far side of the farmhouse and then hurried to the barn.

  “How come you’re letting me go?” Ben asked.

  “Can’t I do something nice?” responded Willa. She tried to sound offended, but Ben had a right to be suspicious. Willa did want to get on Starbuck as soon as she could. However, she also had a plan. She suspected she would get a longer turn if she went second.

  “Doesn’t she look lovely?” Grandma Edna asked. She had already tacked up Starbuck. A fluffy white pad rested under the saddle on her back. The leather bridle brought out the deep chocolate brown of her eyes and mane. “I can tell by the look on your faces that your mom already told you.”

  “She just said it was a big day,” replied Willa.

  “Well, it is,” Grandma declared. “You’ll be riding Starbuck.”

  The three of them headed out to the small paddock together. There, the grassy ground was softer. It would be easier on Starbuck’s newly healed leg.

  The normally calm pony’s ears twitched in every direction, and she gave a quick snort. “She’s ready,” Grandma Edna said, pushing a helmet into Ben’s hands. “Are you?”

  “I think so,” Ben mumbled.

  “You can’t be wishy-washy with horses, Ben,” Grandma Edna insisted. “Horses need a sure hand.” Ben knew that tone; it was just like Willa’s. He tried to remember if Grandma Edna was also a big sister.

  “I know,” Ben declared. “I am ready.” He may not have had all the riding lessons Willa had back in Chicago, but he loved Starbuck every bit as much. He put his left foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up.

  “There you go,” Grandma said. She gave Starbuck a slap on the rump, and the pony moved to the far end of the lead line. Grandma stood in the middle, and Starbuck walked around her.

  “How about a trot?” Grandma Edna clicked her tongue, and Starbuck picked up her pace.

  It was fun. Ben couldn’t believe he was riding Starbuck. He and Willa had waited so long! He had gone around the small circle several times before he started feeling woozy.

  “Grandma, I think he’s getting dizzy,” Willa warned.

  “No, I’m not,” Ben protested, but his head churned like a blender. He felt like he might slide right out of the saddle.

  “He looks good,” said Grandma, full of pride.

  Ben felt his body start to tilt.

  “Whoa, that’s enough, Ben.” Grandma Edna stopped the merry-go-round just in time. Ben still felt woozy on the ground. He heard Willa giggle as he stumbled off toward the barn.

  “Nice and easy,” Grandma called out to Willa, who was rushing toward Starbuck. Dust rose up from under her boots. Her excitement was bubbling and bursting in every muscle. She had to force herself to slow down to a walk.

  “You need to be steady, Willa. You never want to startle a horse. They’ll suspect danger.”

  Willa knew this. She knew that in the wild horses had to be alert. They were always on the lookout. But it was hard to be “nice and easy” when she was so close!

  She took a deep breath as she grabbed the saddle. She hoisted herself up. Her toes searched for the stirrups, and she pushed her weight into her heels.

  Willa could hardly believe it. She ran her hand along the pony’s neck. Starbuck was soft and warm and wonderful.

  “Ask her to walk on,” Grandma instructed.

  As soon as Willa squeezed her legs around Starbuck’s belly, the pony responded.

  “And trot.”

  Willa clicked her tongue, and Starbuck sprang ahead.

  Willa’s rear popped out of the saddle with each bouncy step. Even though the lead line was attached to the pony’s bridle, it was still fun. Starbuck had a happy stride.

  In no time, Grandma had them turn around. “Want to try it without the lead, steering on your own?” she asked.

  “Yes!”

  Grandma started to pull them in.

  “Edna, phone!” Grandpa’s yell came from the house.

  “Just a minute!” Grandma called back as she unclipped the lead from the bridle. “Hold tight,” she said, giving Starbuck a pat. “I’ll be right back.”

  Starbuck stamped her foot, so Willa let the pony walk in the paddock. It was going so well, Willa wondered if they might get to try to canter. Willa liked to canter most of all. What if Starbuck could jump? How soon would they get to try that?

  The door slammed. Grandma marched out, arms swinging at her sides.

  “That’ll be it for today,” she said.

  “But—” Willa started to say when Grandma clutched at the bridle, and Starbuck stopped.

  “Sorry to cut it short, sweetie.” Grandma’s voice had turned soft, but her words were still hurried. “The Starlings’ new horse is sick, real sick, and you have to come with me.”

  Willa’s heart fell to her foot as she lowered herself to the dusty ground. Sure, she was disappointed at not being able to keep riding, but her thoughts had now leaped to Sarah . . . and to Buttercup.

  Chapter 6

  WHEN GRANDMA EDNA, WILLA, AND Ben arrived, everyone at the Starlings’ place was quiet. Even Lena, who had come over to try to cheer up Sarah, did not smile.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Grandma Edna asked, still a dozen steps away from the pasture gate.

  Mr. Starling unlatched the lock to open it for her. “Buttercup’s been lazy for the past couple of days,” he explained. “It was quite a change. She was a real spark plug when she first got here.”

  Willa remembered the horse playing with Amos, the mischievous puppy. Whenever Amos nipped at her leg, she had run away across the field. She had seemed very lively—and hungry for clover and grass.

  Now Buttercup looked weary. Her head drooped. She hardly twitched an ear when Grandma approached. Mr. Starling held Buttercup’s halter and talked softly while Grandma took a good, long look.

  She sighed and ran her hands over the horse’s legs. After rummaging in her kit, she pulled out a stethoscope and pressed it to the horse’s belly. Next, she moved to Buttercup’s head.

  “There’s something not right,” Grandma agreed. “Her eyes are dull. Her lips are swollen. Tender gums.” Wearing thin gloves, Grandma felt all around Buttercup’s mouth. “What’s she been eating?”

  Mr. Starling went on to explain that Buttercup had been eating all the same things as Sweetums: same hay, same grain, same grass. “They got along so well, they’ve been in the same field from the start. I don’t get why Buttercup is sick but Sweetums is fine. I don’t think it’s the food.”

  Grandma made her way to the center of the pasture and kneeled down. Willa wondered, What is she doing? She had a twig and was poking in a pile of something. Yuck! Horse manure!
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  “Things look okay here,” Grandma said. “Not too hard or too runny. You should watch for any changes. And I’d like to check your bag of grain, just in case,” Grandma said. “There’s also the chance that Buttercup got hold of something poisonous. I’m sure you know that buttercups are toxic.” Grandma pointed to the tall, straggly plants in the pasture, each with clusters of tiny yellow flowers at the top.

  Mr. Starling nodded. “Horses don’t touch it. It’s too bitter.”

  Grandma walked over to the nearest buttercup plant and tugged. The tough stem came out roots and all. “Let’s just make sure,” she said as she walked back and offered Buttercup the delicate flowers. Buttercup gave a lazy sniff and turned away.

  “I’ll think on it, Lloyd. The horse is not herself, but she’s not too bad off.” She watched Buttercup as she loaded up her vet kit. “We’d best keep an eye on her. I can run some tests if she doesn’t improve.” The two adults headed to the barn to look at the grain. Bess was behind them, picking clover as she went.

  “Where are the puppies?” Ben asked. Willa rolled her eyes. Didn’t he care about Buttercup at all?

  “They’re with Marnie,” Chipper said. “Amos won’t leave Buttercup alone, so Dad made us put them all in the outdoor pen, at least until the vet is gone. Your grandma, I mean.”

  “Let’s go get them,” Ben said, taking off.

  The girls didn’t want to leave Buttercup.

  As soon as the boys were gone, Sarah blurted out, “I feel so bad. I keep thinking about the parade instead of worrying about Buttercup.”

  “My daddy always tells me worrying won’t do you any good,” Lena said. “You’ve got to do something.”

  “What can we do?” Willa asked.

  “I don’t know.” Lena paused. “But I do know is that it’s a mystery,” she said, her words drawn out to sound spooky. “No, seriously. We should get to the bottom of it. First off, who are our suspects?”

  Sarah and Willa glanced at each other.

  “This isn’t one of your mystery books, Lena. There aren’t any suspects,” Sarah protested. “Buttercup is probably just sick.”