One Unhappy Horse Read Online Free PDF Page B

with a small girl in a cowboy hat atop it.
    "That's you?" Jan asked, pointing to the girl.
    "Me when I was about seven, and my darling Laddie-lee."
    "He looks just like Dove, except for the white on his forehead."
    "He does, doesn't he? They both have that proud way of standing with their head up and that sweet look in the eyes."
    Jan handed the photo back to Mattie. "Thanks," she said. "I mean, for showing it to me."
    "Oh, that's nothing," Mattie said. "I'm just so glad you came to visit. It's good to have a friend close by, isn't it?"
    Jan was startled. Was Mattie claiming her as a friend now? The possibility of friendship with this ancient lady hadn't occurred to her. She swallowed. "Well, I guess I'd better—" she began.
    "Oh, do you have to go so soon? I could tell you the story of how Laddie-lee saved my life if you've got another minute," Mattie said.
    "You'd better watch out," Stella stuck her head in to say. "That Mattie won't let go once she gets an audience."
    "You think I talk too much, Stella?" Mattie asked, cocking her head inquiringly.
    "Oh, not too much for me, Mattie. But you
are
a good talker."
    "I like listening to you," Jan said, quickly before Mattie could feel hurt.
    "There, you see. This child doesn't mind me."
    "I don't mind you, either," Stella said. "But you'd better tell your story fast. I'm serving supper in five minutes."
    It was only five o'clock. "You eat early," Jan said to Mattie.
    "That's 'cause most of the ladies here go to bed so early. They sleep all day and go to bed around eight or nine at the latest."
    Mattie didn't belong in this place, Jan thought. She had entirely too much energy.
    The story, when Jan finally sat down next to Mattie and listened to it, was a good one. It seemed Mattie had been riding her horse along the bank of a creek in Mississippi and had dismounted to poke around in the water when a copperhead dropped out of the tree under which she was standing. It landed at her feet. The snake would have bitten and maybe killed her, except that Laddie-lee screamed, the terrible way only a horse can scream. He immediately attacked the reptile, pounding it to a mush with his hooves.
    "Now, he could have just run off, Laddie-lee could have. But he stayed and protected me because he loved me. Isn't that something?" Mattie asked.
    "It's great," Jan said.
    "Yes, I always thought so. I loved Laddie-lee like he was my family. Well, he
was
my family." Mattie's eyes filled. "I still miss him. I had other horses later, but none like him."
    Nothing Mattie had said touched Jan as much as the way
she'd expressed her attachment to her horse. Clearly, despite the difference in their ages, they did have a lot in common.
    "Supper, Mattie," Stella said.
    Jan got up to leave. "Thanks for the story," she said.
    "Plenty more where that came from," Mattie said. "You come back soon, hear?"
    Stella followed Jan out the back door to the patio while the women began to take their places at the tables in the dining room.
    "You did a good deed stopping by here today," Stella said in a low voice. "She's a sweetheart and lately she's been so lonely."
    "But she has a daughter."
    Stella sniffed and raised an eyebrow. "Mattie's daughter's been making more promises than she keeps. She hasn't been by here in a month. And when she does come—well, it's hard to believe she could be Mattie's daughter. Anyway, you take care, now." And Stella waved and smiled and backed into the house where the white heads were assembled around the tables and waiting to be served.
    The sun was turning the craggy Catalina Mountains red to the north of the ranch. It was getting dark earlier every day. Jan went into the casita and dug her savings-account passbook from the bottom drawer of the small dresser she shared with her mother. There were several years of birthday money in the account, plus what Dad had paid her for doing odd jobs around the ranch. She took the passbook back to
the barn and held it out to her mother, who