The Saddle Creek Series 5-Book Bundle. Shelley Peterson

Abby’s coming to ride Dancer after school, and I could come with you if we’d be back by then. I’m leaving tomorrow and I have nothing to do but study and I know the stuff backward. Plus it’s too nice a day to stay inside.”

      Christine smiled. “I couldn’t think of nicer company.”

      Lucy caught up with Abby between classes. “Abby! Over here!”

      “Lucy, if this is about Sam, forget it. I don’t want to hear about it.” Abby kept walking, face straight ahead. She spoke harshly. “I don’t care a thing about him, and I wish I’d never said a word about liking him again. It’s all over the school! It’s embarrassing. I’m over him, totally!”

      Lucy regarded her friend with skepticism as she kept up with her pace. “Liar. Anyway, it’s not about Sam, so you don’t have to be so touchy.”

      Abby stopped and looked at her. “What’s it about, then?”

      “Dancer. My grandfather told me that you rode him yesterday. Cool!”

      “Yeah.” Abby’s face softened. “He’s a fantastic horse. How did your grandfather hear?” Lucy’s grandfather, George Farrow, had given Abby her first job riding Moonlight Sonata.

      “No secrets around here, Abby. Everybody knows. It’s news, whether you know it or not. Old Pete Pierson was all excited about it. He told my grandfather you could win any competition, hands down, and he’s prepared to put money on it as long as Mrs. Pierson doesn’t find out. Nobody but Hilary James could ever ride him without being thrown off.”

      “Lucy, I’m flattered that Mr. Pierson said all that, but Dancer basically allowed me to look good. It was his choice not to throw me. I’m not kidding. He did everything.”

      “That’s what I mean.” Lucy moved flat against the locker to avoid a running boy, presumably late for class. “The way I see it, all horses do that for you.”

      “Never mind, Lucy. It’s hard to explain.”

      Leslie came around the corner, arms full of books. “Hey, guys!”

      “Hey, Leslie,” answered Abby. “When’s your next class?”

      “I have a spare. I’m going for tea in the cafeteria.”

      “Great!” said Abby. “My French teacher’s got the flu. I’m taking a spare, too.”

      “And that’s my French teacher, too. Hooray for the flu. Let’s go.”

      The three friends hurried out of the hall, where the pushing and running and darting bodies were making it impossible for them to linger. They got their tea and sat down at a table.

      “I know something I’m dying to tell someone,” Abby said quietly.

      “Tell! Tell!” shrieked Lucy.

      “Quiet!” hissed Abby. “It’s really private. You can’t tell a living soul. Understand?”

      Leslie nodded seriously. “Absolutely. On my honour.”

      Lucy swept up her hand, drawing a cross on her chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

      Satisfied, Abby leaned across the table and asked, “Do either of you know the Wick farm?”

      “Sure,” said Lucy. “The haunted barn.”

      “Ooooh,” said Leslie, wiggling her fingers. “Spooky.”

      “You make fun, Les,” said Abby, “but it really is haunted. I saw the ghost, and Mr. Wick told me he’s real, too. It’s the ghost of an unhappy actor, Ambrose Brown, and I saw him.”

      “You are so weird,” said Lucy. “I can’t believe you’re trying to make us believe you saw a ghost. We’re not babies.”

      “Believe it.” Abby took a sip of her tea, as Lucy gave Leslie a wink.

      “I saw that, Lucy. You don’t have to believe me. I saw what I saw.”

      “Hold on, Abby,” said Leslie. “I didn’t say I don’t believe you.”

      Lucy snickered. “You believe in ghosts, Les?”

      “Sort of. And if Abby saw it . . .”

      “You’re just being nice. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

      Abby sat quietly while Lucy and Leslie argued. Then she said, “Let’s go. I’ll prove it.”

      The other girls were stunned.

      “Now?” asked Leslie. “I can’t miss English.”

      “And Mr. Saunders will kill me if I skip math.”

      “Okay, then,” responded Abby. “We’ll go at lunch. Who can get a car?”

      “I have my grandfather’s truck today,” answered Lucy.

      “I’ll drive.”

      Abby nodded. “Good. We’ll meet in the parking lot as soon as the lunch bell rings. We can eat on the way.”

      One minute after the bell, Lucy stood beside her grandfather’s truck, waving to her friends. “Over here!”

      Abby and Leslie came running.

      “Let’s hurry,” said Abby. “We’ve only got forty-five minutes.”

      Lucy started the truck. “Destination, Wick Farm,” she said as they pulled out of the parking lot.

      Seven minutes later, they bounced up Robert Wick’s pot-holed lane, splashing mud all the way up the sides of the truck and torturing the suspension. Lucy stopped beside the barn, where the lane ended.

      “This better be worth it, Abby,” Lucy said. “I’ll have to wash the truck.”

      “Oh, it’ll be worth it.” Abby smiled knowingly.

      Abby led the way. She unlatched the door and slowly pushed it open, finger to lips. “Shhh.”

      “What do we have to be quiet for?” said Lucy, loudly. “It’s a barn. It’s noon. There’s nobody around.”

      Abby closed the door again. “This is a bad idea. You have no respect for ghosts, Lucy. He’s not going to show himself if you come barging in, yakking away. Let’s go back to school.”

      “I want to see him, Abby,” pleaded Leslie. “I haven’t said a word. Can’t Lucy wait here while we go in?”

      “No way! I drove. No way I’m waiting out here.”

      “Lucy, will you keep quiet if we go inside?” asked Abby, sternly.

      “Okay.” Lucy’s posture indicated submission, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I promise.”

      Abby opened the door again. She entered silently, followed by Leslie and Lucy. They stood for a minute in the dark.

      “What now?” whispered Lucy.

      “We wait.”

      “For what?”

      “The ghost, for goodness’ sake. Lucy, you promised to keep quiet.”

      “I just wanted to know.”

      They waited. Two minutes passed. Three. Four.

      “Okay,” said Lucy loudly. “That’s enough. There’s nothing here.”

      Leslie was angry. She whispered hoarsely, “Lucy, that’s so unfair! You keep breaking the silence! How do you ever expect to see a ghost?”

      Abby switched on the lights. Lucy and Leslie covered their eyes in surprise.

      “You’re right, Les,” said Abby. “We won’t see the ghost as long as Lucy’s around. But look at this.”

      Lucy