Sundancer. Shelley Peterson

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      “I’ll tell it!” snapped Mel. “She came over as we were talking about Sundancer, or Phoenix, or whatever his name is …”

      “Only I can call him Phoenix,” corrected Kimberly.

      And only I can ride him, thought Bird.

      “And I said that my mother said he was crazy,” said Jo. “Well, my mother did and she said that he should be put down before he kills somebody.”

      “And Kimberly said that we should be careful what we said in front of Bird,” added Peter. “That she might go crazy, too, like Sundancer …”

      “And Melanie said that she’s already crazy,” said Jo. “That’s when Bird attacked Melanie.”

      Peter jumped in. “When I got her off Melanie, she ran away, then turned and tried to bowl me over. I tripped her and she fell on her nose.” He started to laugh then stopped himself, eyeing Bird warily.

      Bird lunged at Peter, ready for another go, but Hannah’s firm grasp stopped her in her tracks. “Did you listen to what each of you said?” she asked.

      They all nodded. “It’s the truth,” said Jo. “That’s what happened.”

      “Then can any one of you figure out what might have upset Bird?”

      It was Kimberly who finally spoke. “We called her crazy. We hurt her feelings.”

      Bird looked at Kimberly. You’re catching on.

      Hannah nodded. “Good girl, Kimberly. You remembered from last night. Bird has feelings, just like each of you. She doesn’t talk, so she registers her hurt and displeasure in other ways.” Hannah turned to face Bird. “Not that I condone violence in any form, Bird. You know better.”

      “Everyone owes everyone else an apology. Now let’s shake hands all around so we can head out for a ride. It’s a beautiful day.”

      Here we go again, thought Bird, as she reluctantly shook hands with Hannah’s students. Most muttered an apology, but only Kimberly looked at her when she spoke. Bird acknowledged her effort with a small smile. To her delight, Kimby smiled back.

      Half an hour later, they emerged from the stable one at a time, leading their clean and unbraided horses. Bird listened as they chatted about the latest coloured leg wraps and special flexible stirrups. Everyone wanted the newest thing in saddle pads, and no one could stand the old hard riding caps. Just as they were mounting their horses, Kimberly’s mother arrived in her black Suburban.

      “Oh, no!” exclaimed Kimberly.

      “Hide me!” This is going to get interesting, thought Bird.

      “Too late. She saw you,” whispered Melanie.

      “Kimberly!” called Lavinia Davies. “Get in the car.”

      “We’re just leaving for a hack, Mom. Please can I go? Please?”

      “I don’t think so, Kimberly.” She glanced impatiently at her diamond watch. “I’m running late.”

      Bird looked at Hannah and saw her own feelings mirrored in her aunt’s face. Who did this woman think she was? First, she abandons her daughter for an entire night. Then, she shows up and demands that Kimberly leave. Bird glanced at her sort-of friend. Kimby looked as if she were about to cry. In a rush, Bird remembered Eva’s late-night call. She knew just how Kimberly felt.

      “Good morning, Lavinia,” Hannah said from the shiny black back of Charlie, her Percheron thoroughbred hunt horse. Bird smiled. Hannah wasn’t even trying to hide the anger in her voice.

      “Oh, Hannah, so sorry about last night. I couldn’t quite manage to drop around. But I know you understand.”

      Hannah responded, “Actually, you’re quite right. I understand perfectly.”

      “You’re a sport, Hannah. Kimberly, let’s go.”

      Before Kimberly could open her mouth, Hannah spoke again. “Lavinia, you said you’d pick Kimberly up yesterday at the horse show. You’re a day late. We’ll be no more than an hour.”

      Without acknowledging the astonished look on Lavinia’s face, Hannah turned her horse toward the open field. Bird grinned broadly. Good for you, Hannah, she thought. It’s about time you grew a backbone.

      Peter on Zachary followed close behind Hannah, then Melanie on Radar, Jo on Gem, Bird on Jeremy, with Kimberly at the rear on Pastor.

      They trotted across the field and slowed to a walk down the rocky path at the edge of the woods. Ducking branches, the horses waded across the shallow, muddy Saddle Creek. They picked up a controlled canter once they were on firmer ground. One by one, following Hannah, they jumped the old fallen log, then a wooden coop, and found themselves skirting a growth of fir trees beside a meadow. Down a grassy slope at a brisk trot they went, then cantered along the path into another woods. Bird loved this area. It was full of jumps where trees and limbs had fallen across the path. Singles, in-and-outs, triples, all under two feet high, but difficult because there were so many.

      You’re a good horse, Jeremy. Bird gave her mount a firm pat on the neck. I like riding you.

      Thanks. I try my best.

      What do you think of the new horse?

      He’s nothing but trouble. He thinks he’s too good for us. Put me in a field with him and I’ll kick the tar out of him.

      He’s had some bad experiences.

      So have we all. Be careful, Bird.

      Interesting, thought Bird. Straight from the horse’s mouth. There was truth in what Jeremy said. Lots of horses were ill treated, but not all posed a danger to humans. Lots of horses had bad experiences, but most learned to trust when treated well. So what was different about this horse? Bird vowed to find out. After their ride, as soon as she put Jeremy away, she’d get on Sundancer’s back again.

      Just then, Pastor reached forward and took a bite out of Jeremy’s rump. Jeremy kicked out in retaliation, and Kimberly let out a scream.

      “Your horse kicked at me!” Kimberly yelled. “Keep him under control.”

      Bird looked back at Pastor. Why did you bite Jeremy?

      Because I felt like it.

      Is it out of your system, Pastor? Feel better now?

      Actually, I do.

      Good. Don’t do it again.

      Jeremy piped in; No big deal. He bit, I kicked; we’re even.

      “You should hit him!” continued Kimberly. “He’s got to learn not to kick!”

      Too late, now, thought Bird. No wonder horses get messed up. By the time people get around to hitting them, the horses have forgotten the whole thing.

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