Buckskin Bandit (11 page)

“Go, Bart!” Catman shouted as his dad's horse disappeared into the forest ahead of us.

I couldn't believe Mr. Coolidge's mount had that much spunk. I knew the horse would just run back to the barn, but I was afraid Mr. Coolidge might fall off first.

“Come on, Trotter!” I coaxed, urging my bay out of line.

Catman started to follow me, but then M's horse pulled out to follow him.

“Stay in line, Catman! Please!” I cried. “I'll get your dad!”

“Save Mr. Coolidge!” his wife pleaded, as my Trotter broke to a fast trot.

“Don't worry!” I yelled back. I wished I didn't have the stupid saddle between the Trotter and me. He wasn't reading my leg cues to canter. But he trotted faster and faster as I guided him toward the cloud of dust ahead of us.

When I spotted the tail of Mr. Coolidge's mount, I leaned forward on Trotter's neck. He trotted even faster, threatening to bounce his saddle off. But the gap narrowed between Mr. Coolidge and us. I could see the Tweety Bird tie flapping in the wind.

“Hang on, Mr. Coolidge!” I screamed.

My horse easily overtook the loping runaway. Without slowing down, I leaned over and grabbed the reins. “Whoa!”

His horse slowed to a trot, then to a walk. Then she stopped.

“Are you all right, Mr. Coolidge?” His toupee and hat were gone, and his face was beaded in sweat.

“I was less than forthcoming,” he said, panting, “in recounting my equestrian exploits. I did ride several times, but only as a young lad. Ponies. At the circus . . . in a circle. A couple of times I sat on a horse to have my picture taken.”

“That's okay, Mr. Coolidge.” I spotted his hat a few yards away. “You thought you were saving your wife. That was very brave.” I hopped off Trotter and recovered the crumpled, 10-gallon hat. I pretended not to notice the toupee inside as I handed the hat over to Mr. Coolidge.

He plunked both hat and toupee onto his bald head, straightened his Tweety Bird tie, and picked up his horse's reins. “Shall we go?”

We joined the others and finished our ride without incident.

Back at Happy Trails, we piled into the limo. I waited until we reached the end of the drive before tapping on the chauffeur window. Mr. Coolidge stopped the car and rolled down the window.

“Mr. Coolidge, would you mind if Kaylee and I walked back?” I asked.

“That's exactly what I was thinking!” Kaylee said.

“Are you crazy?” Sal asked. “It's two miles to your house.”

“Winnie, won't your dad be waiting for you?” Hawk asked.

Hawk was right. But I'd deal with that when I got home. For now, Bandit was my main worry.

As soon as the limo drove off, Kaylee and I sneaked back to the barn. The sky was a deep smoky gray, throwing jagged shadows on the ground. Leonard already had the horses unsaddled. He hadn't even bothered to cool them down or groom them. It was all I could do not to barge in there and take care of the horses myself.

But I had Bandit to think about.

We lurked outside the barn until Leonard finished stabling the other horses. When they were all stashed in stalls, he barged into Bandit's stall. I hated the way he manhandled Bandit, jerking the buckskin through the back of the barn.

Kaylee and I ducked from tree to tree, following, as Leonard dragged Bandit through pasture after pasture. We stayed back as far as we could without losing them. Finally he stopped at a scrappy pasture surrounded by hedge-apple trees and filled with thorny bushes. Then he shoved Bandit through the gate and smacked him on the rump. Bandit took off at a dead gallop.

We waited until we were sure Leonard was gone. Then we walked up to the splintered fence topped with rusty barbed wire.

“Here, Bandit!” Kaylee called.

Bandit raced around the pasture three times and stopped as far away from us as he could get. Kaylee picked grass and held it over the fence. We both tried calling him, but he wouldn't budge. All the fight had gone out of him, but so had the life. He twitched in the middle of the pasture, his tail between his legs.

“Isn't there anything we can do?” Kaylee asked.

I tried to think like Mom. She would have wanted Bandit to get a vision for the kind of world, the kind of herd he could be part of if he chose to join up. I thought of Mom's buckskin and tried to think of everything she'd done to win over that horse.

Then I remembered. “Sing,” I murmured.

“Did you say, ‘sing'?” Kaylee stared at me like I had a nose worthy of honking.

I nodded. “We have to make Bandit want to join us, to become part of our herd. Bandit has to see how happy we are, Kaylee. Then he'll want a piece of that happiness.”

I wished Mom could be here to explain it better. I wanted Kaylee to understand. “See, when something bad happens to a horse, it's always right there with him. Like no matter what human he looks at, there's that bad thing somebody did to him. We have to change the way Bandit sees the world.”

Kaylee smiled over at me. Then she started singing, “‘Camptown ladies sing this song. Doo-da, doo-da!'” She whispered, as if afraid Bandit would overhear, “I can't think of any other horse songs.”

I joined her, faking the words when I couldn't remember them. “‘Camptown racetrack's two miles long. Oh, doo-da day!'” We sang a dozen choruses, as woodpeckers pecked, robins chirped, and the pasture scent of clover and bittersweet mixed with the smell of sweat and horse.

Later, as we walked back across the fields in moonlight, we had to admit that Bandit hadn't shown any signs of appreciating our singing. But at least now we had a place to see him and a plan to draw him into our world.

When I finally got home from Happy Trails, Lizzy was waiting for me. “Where have you been, Winnie? Dad's been going crazy! And I was so worried!”

“Take it easy, Lizzy. Is he in the workshop?”

“What do you think?” Lizzy opened her mouth like she was going to say something more. Then she closed it. “I'm going to bed.”

Dad was so caught up in our invention that I think he forgot how mad he was at me. The minute he saw me, he started showing me things on the Multishower. We worked together on it until midnight, when I reminded him I was still in school.

The next morning, Dad and I squeezed in 30 minutes on the shower-stall door, while Lizzy cleaned the barn for me. And I still got to duck out 15 minutes early to meet Kaylee before school. We agreed to bike to Bandit's pasture as soon as school was out. Dad—and Madeline—was driving to Mansfield this afternoon. Dad wouldn't be home until suppertime.

School dragged through the day, with the worst hour passing in Ms. Brumby's class. Some of the kids had already written their how-to speeches for the science fair. Ms. Brumby made all of us work on our introductions. Even though I got to partner with Barker, I got so nervous that I couldn't remember the name of my own invention.

At lunch, Sal and Hawk sat with Catman, M, Kaylee, and me to plan my horse birthday party.

“Did you know I talked with Lizzy?” Sal asked. “She's going to make cake and punch. So Hawk and I will just show up with our horses.”

They talked about horse games they'd worked up. Sal had even invited Grant and Eager Star.

“Summer said Scarlet Lady would hate the party, so she may not come,” Hawk said.

Note to self: Scar isn't all bad.

I still felt weird about having a birthday party. But I had to admit it was starting to sound like fun.