Helping Hands Read Online Free PDF

gone wrong today, it’s nice to know that somebody has my back.
    The line of riders is forming again, so after another handful of pellets and a drink, we tighten the cinches on the ponies’ saddles. While David puts the bridle on Babe, I slip the bridle over Buster’s head. Somehow I manage to get it on properly, much to my surprise.
    The line is shorter than it had been in the morning, so we let the kids stay on the ponies longer. Babe circles the corral much faster than Buster, almost like she’s in the mood for racing, or he’s decided to be a turtle.
    â€œIf you lead him any slower, you’ll be standing still,” David says as he and Babe pass us again.
    â€œIt’s him, not me,” I say. “Do you think he needs a nap?”
    â€œHe’s just jealous he didn’t get a peanut butter sandwich,” David says. “You wouldn’t believe the special food that Olympic horses get. My dad said . . .”
    I tune him out. All he wants to talk about is his amazing father and what a good rider he is, and all the cool things they’re going to do this summer, like riding horseback in the mountains of Virginia and giving jumping lessons at Quinn’s stables and going to Disneyworld, and on and on and on. Summer vacation is only a month away, but I’m not exactly looking forward to it. For Jules and me, it’s going to be a summer of babysitting Sophie and helping at the store. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to squeeze in a few hours a week at Dr. Mac’s clinic.
    Buster and I stop at the mounting block to change riders, and he leans against me. Five minutes later, he does it again. His head is drooping, too, and he’s walking even slower.
    I interrupt David in the middle of a story about how the British royal family flies its horses in luxury airplanes.
    â€œSomething’s not right,” I say.
    â€œWhat did you say?” David asks.
    â€œI don’t think he wants any more riders,” I say.
    David laughs and points at me. “You mean,
you
don’t want to walk around this corral anymore.”
    â€œNo, seriously,” I say. “He’s acting weird. I’ll lead Babe if you want, but Buster is done for the day.”
    â€œMaybe he’s sore from walking on the asphalt.” David pauses and studies the pony. “It’s almost two, right? I’ll finish up here with Babe. Why don’t you let him graze on that grass back there? Just make sure he doesn’t run away.”
    I quickly remove Buster’s saddle and lead him out of the corral. We detour to fill the water bucket, but to my surprise, he doesn’t drink very much. Even more puzzling, he’s not interested in grazing at all.
    â€œMan, I wish you could talk,” I tell him as I scratch behind his ears. He looks at me with mournful eyes, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing about me.
    It’s peaceful out here. The sun is high and hot. Bees buzz in the clover, and from far away I hear the jingle of the ice-cream truck. Buster stands next to me, his eyes on the ground. He doesn’t raise his head for anything, not even when David brings Babe over.
    â€œTwo o’clock,” he says. “Day’s over!”
    Babe lowers her head to munch on the grass, her tail gently swatting at a few flies. Buster still hasn’t moved.
    â€œDid you two enjoy your little rest?” David asks.
    Part of me knows he’s just teasing. The other part is fed up.
    â€œKnock it off,” I say.
    â€œWhat?” David asks.
    â€œYou know what.”
    â€œNo, I don’t. What are you talking about?” He looks at me like he’s honestly confused, but I don’t believe it.
    â€œYou’ve been showing off all day,” I say. “I get it: you know horses. You know everything about horses, and your dad does, too, and I’m an idiot. You’ve said it all a hundred times; now will you just shut