Stray Horse by Bonnie Bryant

“No,” she said. “He’s just like that sometimes with people he doesn’t know.”
    “Well, I hope you’ll arrange an introduction for me soon,” he teased.
    Lisa hadn’t thought it was a funny joke. In fact, it worried her. If PJ misbehaved, Max might say he couldn’t stay at Pine Hollow no matter how many chores she and her friends did. Lisa couldn’t let that happen. The only way to make sure he didn’t misbehave was if she was with him and kept him from misbehaving.
    A day later PJ was still edgy, and Lisa was unwilling to leave his side.
    “I guess we have to let her stay with him, huh?” Carole said, thinking about PJ’s behavior.
    “It seems to me we’re making a lot of allowances for her, Carole,” Stevie said.
    “But her parents …,” Carole said.
    “Right, and we know she’s going nuts about this horse. But it turns out that we’re doing all the work that’s making Max agree to let PJ stay here.”
    “You! What’s your name?” A voice boomed behind her. Stevie turned. It was Mr. Wainwright. She wasn’t absolutely sure she wanted him to know her name, but she had to cooperate for Max’s sake.
    “Stevie Lake,” she said.
    “What kind of name is that?” he demanded.
    “Short for Stephanie,” she said, though she didn’t think he had the right to insult her name. His name was Marion. Stevie kept her thoughts to herself.
    “Where’s the hoof polish?” he asked.
    “In the cabinet in the tack room,” Stevie told him. “Right over there.” She pointed.
    “Get it for me, please,” he said.
    Now she was in a quandary. The Saddle Club’s job was to do everything but work for the Wainwrights. On theother hand, their job really was to make Max happy, and Stevie had the sneaking suspicion that keeping the Wainwrights happy would keep Max happy.
    “Of course, sir,” she said.
    As soon as she delivered the pot of polish to Mr. Wainwright, she hurried back to Barq’s stall, which she and Carole had been mucking out together.
    “We’d better hurry,” Carole said. “It’s almost time for the afternoon feeding.”
    “And watering,” said Stevie. “Do you think the stable horses are going to die of jealousy if they just get cold tap water, not cooled to forty-three degrees?”
    “Don’t tell them, okay? As long as they don’t hear about it, we’ll be safe.” The girls laughed.
    The entire stable was abuzz with activities centering around the adored and pampered horses of the jumping team. There were four riders on the team, but only Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright were at the stable that afternoon. Their competition was starting the next day, and the horses would be there for a good part of it. It was something everybody at the stable was looking forward to.
    “O’Malley!” cried Mrs. Wainwright. “Where’s the special grain blend?”
    Nobody ever called Red “O’Malley.” Stevie and Carole gaped while he rushed to bring her the “special grainblend.” He didn’t even make a face or a smart remark. He didn’t even look as if he minded when she apparently forgot to say thank you.
    “How do you suppose Dorothy stands it?” Carole asked. She really felt sorry for their friend, who worked on training these jumpers.
    “I think she stands it by sending them to every competition in the country so that they’re never anywhere near her stable,” Stevie said.
    “Clever woman,” said Carole.
    The girls finished the mucking and then handed out feed to each of the horses, plus fresh hay and water (from the tap, no ice). When they were done, they decided they’d earned a break and went to find Lisa.
    She and PJ were in the schooling ring, far away from the hubbub inside the stable.
    “Everything okay?” Stevie asked, climbing onto the fence.
    “Just fine,” said Lisa. “I thought he might like some fresh air. He probably got used to being outdoors while he was lost in the woods. I think it’s a little, well, claustrophobic for him inside.”
    “You mean you couldn’t