Runaway Pony Read online

  Things were going well at Miller Farm, too. Even though Grandpa couldn’t find the exact latch he had wanted at the hardware store, no ponies had escaped from the field. Grandpa had ordered the new, improved latch, and any day it would arrive in the mail. For now, Grandma and Grandpa used a whole roll of twine to tie the gate shut at night.

  But all the knots in the twine made it hard to get the gate open again, and that’s just what Willa wanted to do. She, Ben, and Grandma were going on a ride together to celebrate the end of the first week of school. As usual, Willa would ride Starbuck. Ben would ride the big sweetheart Jake, who was an honest-to-goodness real draft horse. The surprise was that instead of walking alongside the horses, Grandma Edna was going to ride too. Even more unexpected was the fact that she intended to ride the new pony, Fancy.

  “This pony needs to get out and about,” the retired vet said as she pulled herself into the saddle. “Otherwise, she makes plans of her own.”

  Willa turned around in her saddle and locked eyes with Ben. Ben raised his eyebrows. There Grandma went again, with her mysterious statements. Willa and Ben had attempted to figure them out, but they hadn’t had much luck. For now, Grandma said nothing more. She never gave them more than a hint.

  From the various murmurs and comments, Willa and Ben were fairly certain that Grandma Edna blamed Fancy for both escapes, but they didn’t know why. As far as they knew, Starbuck was the only pony that had left the farm when the gate was open on the first day of school.

  Grandpa Reed wasn’t helping them get to the bottom of things either. They had asked him specific questions, but he had not given them specific answers.

  Both kids listened closely as they rode along the windy beach with their grandmother. She seemed to be having a conversation with Fancy, but her words were too hushed to understand. To make it even harder to hear, Amos let out giddy barks at a steady beat. The puppy loved being near the horses, and he couldn’t help announcing his joy to everyone.

  From this stretch of Chincoteague, the wild island of Assateague did not look very far away. It reminded Willa of what Sarah had said. Was it possible that Starbuck wanted to be free again? It pained Willa to think of it. Part of her heart belonged to Starbuck. She wanted the pony to be close to her . . . and Ben.

  After a long walk along the beach, they were nearing the farm again. “I dropped my walkie-talkie!” Ben called out as soon as he realized it was missing. “I had it at the start. I swear.”

  Willa’s tummy was already rumbling for dinner. She couldn’t imagine having to go back and search for her brother’s tech gear. “Why did you take a walkie-talkie on a horseback ride?” she asked, annoyed. He insisted on taking that thing everywhere.

  “It might have come in handy,” he replied.

  “Well, a walkie-talkie would be handy now, so we could call someone to go look for it,” Willa mumbled.

  “Now, children,” Grandma Edna began, and they were certain she was about to scold them both, but she was interrupted by a faint jingle. It was a tinkling sound that was growing louder by the second. Soon, it was joined by jolly panting.

  “It’s Amos!” Ben called. “He has my walkie-talkie!” The puppy was bounding up behind them, his collar clattering with each stride. His sharp puppy teeth clenched Ben’s gadget, the antenna sticking up in the air.

  “Well, thank goodness,” Grandma said. “That pup can track down anything. On Monday he dug up one of my gardening gloves. I thought it was gone for good.”

  Amos stopped next to Starbuck, and the pony reached down to nuzzle the puppy. “She’s thanking him,” Ben noted. The puppy raised his nose and licked Starbuck’s muzzle. “They’re friends.”

  Willa was relieved. Between the long school day, the chores at home, and fun at the farm, she was hungry and exhausted. It was good that Amos had found the walkie-talkie. He was earning his keep—and his bike rides.

  The topic of the runaway ponies came up again at dinner that night. “Lena thinks that Fancy is some kind of escape artist,” Willa shared. “She thinks Fancy is the one who let Starbuck out, that maybe Fancy can pick locks. Remember how she got from one field to the other when both gates were closed?”

  “Does Grandma Edna have a secret?” Ben wondered out loud. “Why won’t she tell us what is going on? Is it because we’re kids?” A pout appeared on Ben’s face as he asked the last question.

  Mom looked at Dad before she answered. “I don’t think Grandma is trying to keep anything from you, at least not on purpose. You know, she often thinks of those horses and ponies like they’re family, so she tries not to say mean things about them.” Mom lifted a flowered napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth. “And she’s never been one to start rumors.”

  “Rumors about a pony?” Ben said, swallowing a giggle.

  “Grandma Edna doesn’t like gossip,” Mom stated. “She thinks it’s a waste of time.”

  “Well, she’s said a whole lot about Fancy,” Willa explained. “But it’s all under her breath. We can’t hear a single word.”

  “Maybe you’ll be able to figure it out next week, when you stay there,” Dad suggested.

  Mom had planned a lot of last-minute projects for the inn. Dad had suggested that it might be easier for the kids to stay at their grandparents’ while the work was being done. As soon as it was complete, the first guests would arrive at the bed-and-breakfast. Willa and Ben would stay over at Grandma and Grandpa’s then, too.

  Part of Willa was sad to miss the first visitors at Misty Inn. But she knew she and Ben would have fun at Miller Farm. The best part was that Grandma couldn’t send Starbuck to a new home while Willa and Ben were staying there . . . at least not if they had anything to say about it!

  Chapter 8

  FROM THE BEGINNING, MOM AND dad had said that the inn would be a Dunlap Family Adventure. Willa had thought that it would be like the time they drove the car all the way to the Grand Canyon. But the inn felt bigger than the Grand Canyon, if that was possible. Every day there was another closet to clean out, a new paint color to pick, a new recipe to taste. It was a lot, but no project felt bigger than trying to move all the furniture in the house into the kitchen.

  “This chair is heeea-vy,” Ben groaned, his fingers burning from the weight. Willa could feel the muscles in her arms stretching and straining.

  “Kids, kids, put that down,” Dad advised, swooping in to help them lower the chair’s base. “It’s too heavy.”

  “But there’s only heavy stuff left,” Willa said.

  “Then it’ll have to wait for your mom and me,” said Dad. “Or the workers tomorrow morning.” After the leak on the third floor dribbled all the way down the stairs, the wood floors were splotchy and stained. Mom wanted them to shine. While the floors were being refinished, all the furniture needed to be somewhere else. It was a big job.

  Dad took a quick survey of their progress and then collapsed onto the chair, right where they’d dropped it in the middle of the hallway. “You should go pack, and then I’ll take you to the farm,” he said, resting his eyes. “You guys are lucky you’ll get a break from this place.”

  Willa felt bad for her dad. He was a chef. He had always been excited about the restaurant side of the inn, but lately he and Mom had been thinking about everything else. Handmade quilts. Fancy brass doorknobs. Online reservations. Antique lamps. “There are only two people coming to the inn, right?” Willa said. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

  Dad sighed. “When you get older, you’ll realize that in real life, there is no such thing as perfect,” he said, his eyes still closed. “But when your mother’s involved, it has to be pretty darn close.”

  Life at Miller Farm seemed much more calm. Even though the kids were spending several nights, Grandma Edna planned to stick to her usual routine. “I’ll put you to work,” she said. Willa and Ben were happy to help out, especially when it came to tending to Jake and the ponies.

  The very first night, they started by mucking manure from the field
. Unlike at Misty Inn, the horses and ponies at the rescue center spent the night outside. “More like in the wild,” Grandma Edna had insisted as she slung a shovelful into the wheelbarrow. Together the three finished in no time.

  “You don’t have to tie it so tight,” Ben said as Willa wound the twine around the gate several times for good measure. “Even if Fancy bites through the twine and opens the gate, Starbuck won’t go anywhere. She’ll see us go into the house tonight, and she’ll know we are here. She doesn’t need to try to find us. Right, girl?” Starbuck, who had been staying close to the kids all evening, heaved a snuffled sigh. “See? She agrees,” Ben declared.

  Ever since Starbuck stopped the bus on the first day of school, Ben had decided that she had been looking for them. He believed it was the only explanation. “She wanted to find us,” Ben said. “You and me.”

  He was even more convinced the next morning, when all was well in the field. Starbuck, Fancy, Jake, Annie, and every other pony was quietly grazing in the early sun. They were all there when Willa and Ben came home from school as well.

  The second week of school had been good for both of them. Sarah and Lena had introduced Willa to several kids, and Willa had started to pick up on Mr. McGory’s humor. He was funny! Best of all, Willa had noticed Ben laughing with a group of boys in his gym class. Ben and Chipper still carried their walkie-talkies everywhere, but at least Ben was starting to open up to other kids as well.

  “Finally got the right latch,” Grandpa announced as the kids walked up the long driveway on Friday afternoon, “so we don’t have to deal with that prickly twine anymore.” This was good news to Willa, because the twine made her fingers red and itchy. Even better, she wouldn’t have to worry about Starbuck getting out anymore. That was one less reason for Grandma Edna to insist on finding a new home for the pony.

  That evening the sky was a deep shade of purple. Willa and Ben hoped that all was going well with their parents at home. The first guests should have arrived at Misty Inn. Willa hoped they were enjoying the sunset and all the wonder of being on Chincoteague Island.

  At Miller Farm the pastures seemed to be filled with a lavender mist. To Willa and Ben, it felt almost magical, getting to feed Starbuck fresh carrots from the garden just before bedtime. They were in their pajamas and barn boots. It was a funny combination, but it felt good. It felt special.

  Both kids were happy to have Buttercup staying in their barn at home, but Buttercup was not their horse. She belonged to the Starlings, Sarah and Chipper’s family. It was different being on Miller Farm at night, spending these lazy hours with Starbuck. Willa and Ben loved Starbuck as if she were their own.

  Saying good night to the pony was easier when they knew they would see her first thing in the morning. Even Amos, who usually whimpered whenever they had to leave the farm, seemed more at ease. Maybe it was because he was allowed to sleep inside when the kids stayed at their grandparents’ house. At Misty Inn, he always slept in the barn.

  “Sweet dreams, Starbuck,” Willa said, turning the latch on the new lock. Ben petted the pony’s muzzle and double-checked the gate. Willa picked up Amos and blew Starbuck one last kiss before heading inside for the night.

  Willa went to sleep smiling, but she woke up a few hours later. Amos was whining even though his eyes were closed. The puppy had awakened Ben, too. “Poor little guy. He must be having a bad dream,” Willa said. Ben rested his hand on Amos’s side, and the pup quieted down.

  But his whimpers returned a few hours later. “What should we do?” Ben asked as the whining grew louder. The kids’ grandparents were sleeping in the next room, and they didn’t dare disturb them.

  “Maybe we should wake him up,” she suggested, but she wasn’t certain. “It might stop the dream, and he can go back to sleep.”

  Both kids crawled out of bed and sat next to Amos. As soon as Ben gave him a shake, the puppy jolted awake. He stopped whining but started barking. Sharp, insistent barks.

  “Shhhhh.” Willa tried to soothe him, but Amos did not want to be soothed. He jumped up, bolted to the bedroom door, and nudged it open. They could hear his collar jingle as he darted through the house.

  “He probably needs to go out,” Willa said, grabbing her barn boots. Amos wasn’t used to being cooped up all night. “We can let him go to the bathroom and bring him right back in.” Ben was just a step behind her. They tried to tiptoe as they ran. They found Amos waiting with his cold nose pressed against the door.

  The puppy bounded outside and raced toward the front yard. His barks were louder than they had ever been. He sounded excited and afraid. As soon as they rounded the corner, Willa and Ben knew why. The field gate was wide open, and Starbuck was gone.

  Chapter 9

  “I TRIPLE-CHECKED THE LOCK,” Ben declared.

  “I know,” Willa said. “I’m not blaming you. Remember, I’m the one who locked it in the first place.” They both stared at the field. The night air was thick and wet. Even through the haze, the kids could tell that the pasture was full, except for the one pony they wanted to see most.

  Willa stepped forward and relocked the gate. “That’s not important now. What’s important is finding Starbuck.” She glanced around anxiously. “Oh no. Where’s Amos?”

  First the kids checked the barn. No Amos.

  “He’s probably one step ahead of us,” Ben replied. “He’s probably searching for a trail.”

  Slowly, Willa followed her brother’s thinking. She realized that Amos had known all along. Even in his sleep, the puppy had suspected something was wrong. “We have to find him,” she said.

  Ben straightened up and looked around. The morning was still. “I think I hear him. Behind the house.”

  Brother and sister rushed to find the puppy, their bare feet loose in their boots. “Amos,” Willa called in a breathy whisper when they reached the backyard. Amos bounded forward with a yip. He stopped when he reached Willa, and sat down. “That’s weird,” she said. “He never sits.”

  Next, the puppy looked longingly into the woods. He sniffed the air, raised one paw, and whimpered.

  While the sky around the house was starting to brighten to a dull gray, the wooded area was still dark and moody. “What do you think?” Willa asked.

  “I think Amos is good at finding things. Grandma’s glove. My walkie-talkie.” As he spoke, he touched his hand to the gadget, which was dangling from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. “And Starbuck,” he added hopefully.

  The puppy sniffed the air again.

  “Okay, Amos,” Willa said, ruffling the black patch of fur on his back. “Help us find her.”

  The puppy turned and trotted toward a gap in the trees. He stopped and smelled, then glanced back. “We’re coming,” Willa told him, but the shadows were daunting. Once they were under the trees, Willa could barely make out the path ahead of her. “Watch out,” she warned Ben. “There are wet leaves on the ground. They’re slippery.”

  Their eyes slowly adjusted, but Willa found she used her hearing more to pick up on Amos’s cues: his sniffs, his pants, the upbeat jingle of his collar. He had run ahead, and she caught glimpses of his white tail only now and then.

  The moist air clung to her skin, attracting a chill. She didn’t know if her goose bumps were from the cold or her concern.

  “I don’t get why she left,” Ben said after a while. “She knew we were right there. Right in the farmhouse.”

  Without even looking, Willa could picture the pout on her brother’s face. She felt the same way. Why did Starbuck escape? Could Sarah have been right? Did Starbuck want to be free? Willa knew that the wild horses swam the channel from Assateague every year for the pony auction. If Starbuck had made it across the water as a foal, she could certainly do it now as a full-grown pony. What if Amos wasn’t on the right path? What if Starbuck was headed for the water? Willa worried that she and Ben might not see their favorite pony again.

  Ben kept his eyes focused on Willa’s boots. They were yellow and
caught the small amount of light that seeped through the trees’ leaves. He had to make sure to duck under low limbs, and push branches out of the way. Once, he tripped over a thick root. He hadn’t even been able to see it! He wondered how Starbuck could pick her way through these dim woods. And why? The muddy ground was slick. There weren’t any appealing patches of grass to eat. She should have just stayed back at Miller Farm. It didn’t make any sense.

  As Amos and the kids made their way, bird chirps began to announce the morning. Willa could hear the rev of car engines starting up. It was Saturday, so there wouldn’t be a lot of traffic, but it didn’t make Willa worry less. There were still plenty of dangers for a lost pony.

  Even though they were new to Chincoteague, Ben thought he knew the island fairly well. They had ridden their bikes all over that summer. They had explored the sandy stretches of beach. But Ben had no idea where they were now. At times, it seemed like they were winding through a deep forest. At others, he could make out where the trees came to an end, but what was on the other side? A grassy yard? A hidden cove?

  They hadn’t seen Amos for a while when a shrill bark cut through the woods. “It’s him,” Willa said. “He’s up ahead.”

  As they grew nearer, they heard a rustling. It was the sound of a struggle. Willa took quick, short steps, dodging rocks and holes. The path had all but disappeared. They weren’t on a proper trail anymore, but Amos had still found what they were looking for. Up ahead, Willa could make out the creamy color of Starbuck’s coat.

  Amos gave a bark of encouragement just as Willa and Ben ducked under a tree branch to reach them.

  “Starbuck, you’re caught,” Willa said as she approached the startled pony. “Don’t you worry. We’ll get you out.” She ran a hand along the mare’s neck, and Starbuck let out a heavy sigh.