The Penny Pony

Published by

Fire and Ice

A Young Adult Imprint of Melange Books, LLC

White Bear Lake, MN 55110

www.fireandiceya.com

The Penny Pony, Copyright 2013 by Patricia
Gilkerson

ISBN: 978-1-61235-676-1

Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this
book are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publisher.

Published in the United States of America.

Cover Art by Stephanie Flint

THE PENNY PONY

PATRICIA GILKERSON

Piper Jones has always loved horses, but
little did she know what would happen when she and her best friend,
Addie tried to help a neglected pony. When all the adults in her
life can’t or won’t help, Piper and Addie take matters into their
own hands. They must find a safe haven for the pony and protect it
from its cruel owner. A little old lady from Piper’s past steps up
to help and a suspected liar proves he’s not a bad guy at all. But
as the girls try to solve a mystery involving the suspicious owner,
will they be forced into crime themselves in order to save their
new-found pony friend?

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my husband, Jim
Gilkerson, and to my children and grandchildren: Rob, Megan, Clare
and Patrick Gilkerson, and Betsy, Paul and Toby Wieland. Your love
and support made this book possible.

Table of Contents

"The Penny Pony"

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

About the Author

Previews

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
summer. 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.

Chapter Two

~ Asking for Help ~

My dad’s clinic was
on the edge of town, but since Serendipity Springs was small, we
were there in five minutes, walking quickly. We came up to the
small, green, cement block building from the side, so I could see
there were four cars in the front parking lot, and Dad’s truck was
parked in back. This was good and bad. He was in the office, but
there were lots of clients, which meant he was busy. We went in the
back door so as not to bother clients and their pets. I sniffed the
clinic smell of dogs, cats, medicine and air freshener, and
listened to the yipping and the Easy Listening radio station. Some
people don’t like the smells and noises, but I’ve been coming here
all my life, so I’m used to it.

We found Dad in an exam room, sewing up a cut
on a golden retriever pup’s leg. I waved at Sue, his assistant. She
was my babysitter when I was little, but now she was just my
friend. She had a two year-old and I babysat for her sometimes.

“Hi, Piper. Hi, Addie,” Dad said. “Be with
you in a minute.”

“Hey, Dad, we found a pony that’s being
mistreated and we need you to help us.”

“A pony? Where?”

“Over in the vacant lot across from the
drugstore. Can you come look at it?”

“Later, hon. I won’t have time till
tonight.”

“But Dad, it looks really bad.”

“Hold him still, Sue. I’m almost done. There!
Now, what about the pony?”

“It’s pitiful looking! It’s hungry and
thirsty and isn’t being taken care of. We need you to turn the guy
who owns it in for animal neglect.”

“Whoa, Piper.” Dad held up his hands in their
bloody exam gloves. “I can’t do anything about it unless I look at
the animal. And I have four more clients out front and three farm
calls to make after that.”

“But, Dad, we have to take care of it now.
She has sores on her legs!”

“Look, Piper, honey, I’m sorry, but I can’t
right now. I’ll call you, or come by tonight. Tell your mother I
might be over.” My mother didn’t like Dad to just drop by. She had
to brush her hair and look in the mirror when she knew he was
coming. And she would kill me for telling this to anyone. Dad
thought it was because she wanted to straighten up the house, but I
knew she wanted to look better since the divorce. She’d lost some
weight and lightened her hair, too.

Sue had left the room and now she stuck her
head back in.