The Saddle Creek Series 5-Book Bundle. Shelley Peterson

that he was keeping her in his field of vision. She watched for a minute, pleased that she’d gotten through, however briefly. There is damage piled up in that horse, Bird thought, as she began her morning chores. And no one will get through that damage until he decides to let them.

      At Saddle Creek Farm, the heavy work was done by two trusted employees, John Fraye and Cliff Jones. Daily, they mucked the stalls, scrubbed the buckets, and kept the farm looking neat and smelling fresh. They put out the horses for their turnout time wearing blankets or boots, depending on the owners’ requests. Seasonally, Cliff and John kept the lawns cut and the fields free of burrs, and plowed the driveway clear of snow. At all times, they dealt with the surprises and emergencies that were part of life on a horse farm.

      Bird’s work was lighter, and she took pleasure in it. With Hector following, Bird began cleaning and filling the outdoor water troughs. Another of her responsibilities was to check gates, fences, and loafing sheds for any needed repairs. It was an important job, and one that Bird took more seriously after three horses had run down the road and almost caused an accident after she had failed to call attention to a faulty latch. “If a horse can get into trouble,” Hannah repeated time and again, “he will.” It was Bird’s daily duty to minimize the possibilities.

      While she worked, John and Cliff led the horses out to the fields. Hannah’s horses were out all night in the warm summer months, but the boarders’ horses were kept inside. If the animals were to decide, Bird knew, they’d all be out in the cooler night air and inside during the heat of midday.

      Duties done, Bird stretched up her arms and admired the blueness of the sky. She filled her lungs with the fresh morning air and sighed contentedly. Hector plopped down by the barn door in the sun. She knelt, ruffled his fur, then cast another glance at the new horse. The enigma.

      Her eye was caught by the unmistakable figure of her aunt as she marched toward her from the house. Even from a distance, Bird could feel her stressful mood. Hannah strode up to Bird carrying a small brown paper bag. She was dressed to ride.

      “I made you a bacon sandwich. You must be starving.” She held out the bag. Bird felt immobilized, uncomfortably alert to Hannah’s clipped speech and quick movements. She didn’t take it. “I’ve got to get going. Do you want to come to the show with me? I’m taking Kimberly and Jo and Peter and Melanie.”

      Bird could only stare. Hannah was upset, and suddenly Bird knew why. All the joy of the day drained away as Bird recalled last night’s phone call from her mother.

      Hannah spoke firmly. “Bird, answer me. Look, how am I supposed to deal with you? Do you want to come with me or not?” With a heavy heart, Bird looked down.

      No, I don’t, she thought.

      I want to be alone.

      She glanced up and saw her aunt’s worried eyes. She felt sincerely sorry for Hannah. It’s not her fault, Bird thought, that her weird sister burdened her with a weird kid whom she now wanted to disown. I shouldn’t be so difficult. I should get my act together and go to the horse show. I could be a help. Bird looked back down at the ground and studied a line of ants as they paraded past in the dirt. But no. She felt too upset. Best to avoid the company of people today. Today, when no one was around, she would get up on the new horse’s back.

      “Look, make you a deal. You’ll stay here with Cliff and John unless you’re in the truck by the time the horses are loaded. And if you decide to stay here, whatever you do, you are not to get on the new horse’s back.”

      Bird looked up at her aunt quickly. Was she that transparent?

      Hannah thrust out her arm and dropped the paper bag with the sandwich. Bird caught it. Hannah smiled briefly. “Good reflexes.”

      A short while later, Bird watched as Hannah pulled away with the rig, four horses safely aboard. “Saddle Creek” was emblazened in green, grey, and red on the sides of the white truck and trailer. Saddles, bridles, boots, wraps, and grooming kits were stowed in the tack room at the front of the horse trailer, as well as a safety box fitted out for every possible emergency.

      Two cars followed. One with Jo’s mother driving Jo and her best friend Melanie, and one with Peter and his mother. Kimberly always met them at the shows, a subject of discussion at the barn as this left the preparations up to Hannah.

      Bird climbed on the fence to eat her bacon sandwich and watch the new horse. Hector had moved from his usual position at the barn door to lay on the ground at her feet. He kept one big brown eye on Bird’s sandwich, hoping for a spill.

      I’m happy you stayed.

      I’m happy to spend time with you, Hector. Bird leaned down to rub his soft yellow head.

      Can I have a bite?

      You had your breakfast. This is mine.

      It’s going to be an unhurried day, she thought. Good. Lots of time to sit and understand this horse. Bird felt her sadness fade away as she ate and watched. She loved how the sun danced on the horse’s coat. She admired his motion. He moves gracefully, like a dancer, she thought. And he’s the orangey colour of the sunset. That’s it. I’ll name him Sundancer — Sunny for short. Even though there’s a darker side to him, too. He’s a veiled horse, like the wild mustangs of the ancient Indians. A mystery horse with hooded eyes and many secrets — secrets that even Paul Daniels doesn’t know.

      Unfortunately, what Paul Daniels did know was shocking.

      He’d told them that, one time, Sundancer had been in a trailer accident. Because of a faulty hitch and rusted undercarriage, the horse trailer came loose from the truck on the highway. Unguided, it smashed into a hillock on the side of the road, knocking the horse from his feet and sending him sliding under the chest bar. He was lucky. Had the trailer gone into the two lanes of fast-moving traffic, things could have been much worse. As it was, Sundancer survived with nasty scrapes and a lifelong distrust for trailers.

      Another time, as he was being led down the road behind another horse, he pulled free and began to gallop away, dragging a long rope. He ducked in behind a farmhouse, jumped a hedge into the back garden, and leaped out over another hedge. Unfortunately, that second hedge sat at the edge of the Niagara Escarpment, the rocky ridge that runs through the Niagara peninsula. The landing was thirty feet down into big rocks. Again, he was lucky, because if he hadn’t stopped rolling there, he would have gone a hundred feet more. That time his injuries almost killed him.

      Sundancer had many idiosyncrasies, too, that Dr. Daniels mentioned. Some were obvious, like his dislike of trailers and his fear of heights. Others were harder to understand.

      He always assumed that a person was going to hit him with whatever they were carrying, be it broom, water bucket, pitchfork, or hairbrush. He was suspicious of everyone. The first of his nine trainers tried to desensitize his nervous nature with noises, pokes, and slaps, all of which led to a fear of surprises. Sundancer took to hiding in his stall, shaking, anticipating the next scare. He scooted alarmingly fast when touched on his sides. He had a penchant for running away, as well. No fence had been high enough or strong enough to keep him in. Bird wondered if Sundancer would run away from them. More likely it was a matter of when.

      Bird gave Hector the last bite of her sandwich and wiped away the crumbs. She waited for the man who’d come up behind her to speak.

      “Hello there, Bird.”

      Bird didn’t look around. She knew it was Paul Daniels by the feel in the air. His aura, perhaps. Whatever it was, it was good — safe and intelligent.

      She also sensed that his son, Alec, might be sitting in the car. She glanced over quickly to sneak a peek. Yes. There he was. So far, he hadn’t moved to come out. That was good. Bird always got agitated when he was around. It wasn’t Alec’s fault. It was just that Bird had always had a bit of an interest in him. He was his own person and had his own thoughts, unlike the other boys in her class who ganged up to make fun of her. Bird thought he was