Horse Games by Bonnie Bryant Page A

very sedate walk”—she paused for effect—“at least as long as we are within sight of Pine Hollow. Come on, follow me.”
    With that Carole led the way around a small hill andobscured the stable from their view. “Ready?” she asked. Marie nodded. Carole gave Starlight a little nudge. It didn’t take much encouragement. He began trotting right away. As soon as Marie gave Patch the signal, he broke into a trot, too.
    Carole let Patch come up beside Starlight so she could watch Marie carefully. As she had seen when the girl was in class, Marie knew what she was doing. She posted with the two-beat gait of Patch’s trot, rising slightly and sitting, still keeping her back straight and her hands still.
    “Nice,” Carole said, genuinely admiring Marie’s position. “You do know what you’re doing.”
    Marie just smiled. It wasn’t clear to Carole whether that was because she was pleased by Carole’s compliment or simply happy to be trotting. It didn’t matter. A smile from Marie was a very welcome thing.
    Carole drew Starlight back down to a walk. She patted his neck reflexively. It was a way she could always tell him how much she loved riding him. Marie did the same with Patch.
    “You’re right,” Marie said, walking side-by-side with Carole. “I have changed. I’m happy now and I’m beginning to think it’s all right to be happy.”
    “I know. All of a sudden, there comes a time when you realize you don’t have to feel guilty about being happy and having fun. That’s when you can really start living your life again.”
    Marie looked at her strangely. “How did you know?”
    Carole remembered then that she’d been keeping a secret from Marie. She’d never told her new friend about her own mother’s death. At first, it had seemed as if it would be sort of phony to tell her—as if Carole were trying to prove something, or as if she expected Marie to feel sorry for her, too. That wasn’t how Carole felt, but she’d been afraid it would be how Marie would react. Now, however, the fact that she hadn’t told her made her feel dishonest, as if she’d been withholding something. Carole had to come clean and she wasn’t quite sure what to say.
    “Well, my mother—”
    “Your parents are divorced, aren’t they?” Marie asked.
    Carole shook her head. “No,” she said. There was a long silence. Then she said the words. “My mother died.”
    “A long time ago?” Marie asked.
    “Just two years. Seems like yesterday.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    Why? It sounded so strange even to her that Carole couldn’t explain it. Why not?
    “I don’t know,” she began.
    “You were holding out on me,” Marie said accusingly. “Did you think it was some kind of dirty secret?”
    “No,” Carole told her. “I guess it seems that way. It’s just that—well, I didn’t know
how
to tell you.”
    Carole pulled Starlight to a complete stop. Marie stopped Patch next to her. The two girls stared at eachother, looking for clues and answers. Carole wished that she had told Marie when she’d first met her, wished she hadn’t kept the secret, which wasn’t a secret at all and certainly wasn’t a dirty secret. She just hadn’t wanted to talk about it and now she had to, but she didn’t know what to say.
    “It’s not fair, you know,” Marie said. “Having my father die is bad enough without people trying to lie to me about things. For a long time when I was in the hospital, they lied to me about him. ‘He’s still sick,’ they said. ‘He’ll come visit you when he can.’ Once a nurse even told me he’d been there but that I’d been asleep and they hadn’t wanted to wake me up. I knew it was a lie. That was when I knew he was dead.”
    “I hate lies, you know. I hated it when the doctors told me things wouldn’t hurt—and they did. I hated it when they told me I’d be up and walking in no time, and I wasn’t. I hated it when they said physical therapy would be easy and fun, but it