Sonrise Stable Read online

  Sonrise Stable:

  Rosie and Scamper

  By Vicki Watson

  Illustrated by Janet Griffin-Scott

  Copyright © 2008 by Vicki Watson

  Sonrise Stable: Rosie and Scamper by Vicki Watson

  Printed in the United States of America ISBN 978-0-9847242-8-4

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017900732

  Second edition: 2017

  All rights reserved solely by the author. The author guarantees all contents are original and do not infringe upon the legal rights of any other person or work. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author.

  DRAW ME CLOSE

  Writer Credits: Kelly Carpenter

  Copyright: © 1994 Mercy/Vineyard Publishing (ASCAP) Used by permission of musicservices.org, license #468606

  Unless otherwise indicated, Bible quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  NKJV verses are from The New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission.

  The questions in the back of the book may be discussed after reading each chapter.

  Contents

  Rosie and Scamper

  Sonrise Stable Characters

  Sonrise Stable Map

  Chapter 1 Rosie and Jet

  Chapter 2 Rosie’s Surprise

  Chapter 3 Christmas in the Barn

  Chapter 4 The Storm

  Chapter 5 Scamper

  Chapter 6 Early Training

  Chapter 7 Carrie

  Chapter 8 Kezzie’s Story

  Chapter 9 Carrie’s First Ride

  Chapter 10 The Missing Helmet

  Chapter 11 Camp Preparations

  Chapter 12 Cousins

  Chapter 13 Eggs and Hay

  Chapter 14 Barn Campout

  Chapter 15 Barrels and Barn Painting

  Chapter 16 Trail Ride

  Chapter 17 Family Stories

  Chapter 18 Draw Me Close To You

  Chapter 19 County Fair

  Chapter 20 Billy and Bandit

  Chapter 21 Horse Show

  Chapter 22 Carrie’s Surprise

  Draw Scamper With Janet Griffin-Scott

  Discussion Questions

  The Sonrise Stable Series

  Sonrise Stable Characters

  (Horses in Parentheses)

  Grandma (Kezzie)

  Kristy and Eric Jackson

  Rosie (Jet)

  Lisa and Robert

  Lauren

  Julie (Elektra) and Jonathan

  Jared (Scout)

  Jessie (Patches)

  Jamie (Pearl)

  Carrie Rogers

  Judy and Ross Robinson, Carrie’s foster parents Barn cats: Katy and Jemimah

  Sonrise Stable Map

  Chapter 1

  Rosie and Jet

  “There’s Grandma’s house!” Rosie’s mother was the only other person in the car, so there was no need for this announcement. Certainly Kristy knew they were approaching the very house she had grown up in, but Rosie couldn’t resist. She’d begun announcing their arrival at her grandmother’s house when she was just a toddler, and it made her smile every time she did it.

  The car slowed as they passed the barn entrance and the Sonrise Stable sign with its horse and cross. Kristy turned in to the second drive at the house. Rosie waited anxiously for the car to stop, then she pulled the door latch and jumped out. The small, wiry nine-year-old ran toward the porch of the one-and- a-half story farmhouse nestled in the trees, her dark, braided pigtails bouncing wildly.

  “Whoa, girl! How about some help here?”

  Rosie skidded to a stop and doubled back toward her mother.

  “Take this.” Kristy tossed a sleeping bag her way.

  Rosie reached for the dark-blue bag, catching it more with her face than her hands. “Oomph! Sorry, Mom. I just can’t wait to see Grandma—and Jet.” She tucked the sleeping bag under one arm and grabbed her helmet from the back seat.

  Grandma stepped through the front door onto the porch. Working with horses over the years had kept her trim, and she was still strong enough to toss bales of hay around.

  Kristy wrestled with a suitcase that was stuck between the seats. She gave a jerk, and it popped free.

  “I thought Rosie was spending a few days. I didn’t realize she was moving in,” Grandma joked.

  “It is only for a few days. We’d need a moving van to bring all her things out here.” Kristy grabbed a backpack and pillow with her other hand and started toward the porch.

  There was no denying the three were related. They shared the same slim build, dark-brown hair and eyes, and quick, easy smile.

  Rosie dropped the sleeping bag on the porch by the front door. “I’m ready to ride!” She pulled a bag of carrots out of her helmet and grinned. “For Jet.”

  “You’ve spoiled that pony. Whenever I go to the barn, she looks right past me to see whether you’re coming too.”

  “I’m not spoiling her,” Rosie laughed. “Carrots are healthy treats.”

  Grandma knelt down. “I’ve been looking forward to this weekend. Do I get a hug?”

  Rosie wrapped her arms around her grandmother’s neck. There wasn’t anyone she loved more—except her mom and dad, of course. She’d grown even closer to her grandmother as they had worked together with the horses that summer.

  Kristy set the rest of Rosie’s things down next to the sleeping bag. “I sure miss living in the country. I can’t wait until we can afford to move out of our subdivision.”

  “You’re welcome to visit anytime,” Grandma said. “You’ll be able to move someday. God’s timing is not always the same as ours.”

  “I know,” Kristy sighed. “I try to be patient.”

  Grandma nodded. “I’m still learning patience myself after fifty-some years.”

  Fifty years? Rosie couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be that old. And patience? She barely had any of that at all. Like right now. She wished they could go straight to the barn so she could ride Jet.

  Kristy glanced at her watch. “Oh, dear! Is it that late already? Eric will be wondering what happened to me.” She held out her arms to Rosie. “Hey girlie, give me a goodbye kiss. You help Grandma—and take good care of that pony. Love you.” Kristy waved as she hurried back to her car.

  “I love you too. Bye, Mom.”

  “Enjoy your time together,” Grandma called out. She waved and then turned to her granddaughter. “I know we will, right?”

  Rosie smiled and nodded. Spending four days with her grandmother and the horses was more exciting to her than a trip to Disney World.

  Grandma put her hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “Let’s get this stuff inside. When you’re settled, we’ll go to the barn. Do you want to stay in your mom’s room?”

  “Why do you always call it Mom’s room?” Rosie grabbed the suitcase, which weighed nearly as much as she did. “It’s been a long time since Mom lived here.”

  “I don’t know. I just never did anything else with those rooms after my girls moved out.” Grandma picked up the other items, and they went inside.

  When Rosie reached the staircase, she set her suitcase down and pulled it, thumping up one step at a time. At the halfway point, she looked back and noticed her grandmother smiling at her.

  “Need a hand?”

  “No.” She gave a big tug and advanced another step. Rosie had been born prematurely with a heart condition, and had spent the first few months of her life in the hospital. Because of her health issues and the fact that she was their only child, Kristy and Eric were especially cautious with her. Rosie was still small for her age, but she had grown much stronger over the past year.

  Although she had ridde
n Jet before, someone had always been leading the pony. That summer her parents had finally agreed to let her begin riding Jet on her own. Grandma had taught many children to ride, and Rosie became her next eager student.

  After tossing her clothes in the bedroom dresser, Rosie walked to the shelves on the opposite wall that held the awards her mother and aunts, Julie and Lisa, had won when they were younger.

  She traced her finger over the gold horse that stood proudly atop one of the trophies. Someday Jet and I will win trophies just like this. She picked up a silky blue ribbon and turned it over. “First Place, Trail Class—Kristy & Ebony,” her grandmother had written on it years ago.

  Rosie was consumed with horses. She read, dreamed, and talked constantly about them. Her mom called it “horse fever” and said it was hereditary. Kristy had inherited it from Grandma and then passed it on to Rosie.

  Sometimes, instead of doing her schoolwork, she daydreamed about horses and sketched them in her notebook. Grandma said there was no cure for it. That was fine with Rosie. This was one illness she didn’t want to recover from.

  Rosie smiled, set the ribbon down, and reached for a small, framed photograph of her mother riding Ebony. Mom sure looks a lot like me—or I look a lot like her. And Jet looks like Ebony. Jet—oh! I need to get over to the barn! Rosie placed the picture back on the shelf and raced out of the room.

  Grandma looked up as she clattered down the stairs. “Are you finally ready to ride? I thought you were taking a nap up there.”

  “Oh, Grandma.” She was used to her grandmother’s kidding and could, almost always, tell when she was being teased. “Where are my boots?”

  “In the laundry room, right where you left them last time.”

  Rosie ran to retrieve her riding boots. She tripped trying to insert her foot into one of the boots as she walked back to the living room.

  “Slow down there, girl,” Grandma laughed. “We have all weekend. Bring a few of your carrots, and put the rest of the bag in the refrigerator.”

  Grandma held the back door open, and the two stepped onto the gravel path that led to the barn. Bordering the path on the right was a ravine that dropped down to a winding, bubbling creek. A grassy pasture stretched from their left to the road. Today, however, Rosie was blind to the natural beauty surrounding her. Four straight days of riding were in store, and she couldn’t wait to get started.

  “What have I been teaching you?”

  Rosie pranced around her grandmother. “Keep my reins even, not too tight and not too loose, don’t jerk on her mouth, stay balanced, and—oh, Grandma, you’ve told me so much. I don’t see how I can remember it all!”

  “You’ve remembered the most important things, but knowing and doing aren’t always the same. You’ll be a real rider when you do all those things without even thinking about them.”

  Rosie wanted to be a real rider, and maybe even a horse trainer someday, like her Aunt Julie. She looked ahead at the faded, white barn. Four stalls faced the house, each with two doors. One of the stall doors opened into the pasture and the other into the barn aisle. When the weather was nice, Grandma liked the horses to be outside as much as possible.

  A jet-black pony poked her head over the first door and watched as they approached. Rosie took off running, and Jet hurried to the inside door of her stall where she greeted Rosie with a friendly nicker. Anticipating a treat, a pair of big brown eyes followed the girl’s every move.

  Rosie brushed the pony’s thick forelock to the side, revealing a white star. “Jet, you’re the most beautiful pony in the world.” She put her hands on each side of the pony’s head and kissed her velvety muzzle. Jet broke free from her grasp and tossed her head as if nodding in agreement.

  Rosie pulled the biggest carrot out of her pocket and snapped it in two. She carefully flattened her hand, as her grandmother had taught her, and held out one of the pieces. Jet’s soft lips brushed her palm as she took the carrot. Rosie felt a light, tingly sensation pass down her arm. “Ooh, Jet! That tickles.”

  Grandma unlatched the stall door and led the pony into the aisle. She rubbed Jet’s neck affectionately. “She’s so much like her mother. Ebony was one of my best ponies. She taught your mom to ride, as Jet is teaching you. After my three girls outgrew Ebony, many of my riding students took lessons on her.”

  “I’ll never outgrow Jet! I’m going to ride her until I’m really old—like you.”

  “Hmm. Just how old do you think I am?” Grandma shook her head. “Oh, never mind. I don’t even want to know. Come on. Let’s get this pony brushed and saddled.”

  The two worked together quietly. Rosie was so absorbed in grooming Jet, it was a while before she noticed that her grandmother was no longer helping. Grandma leaned against the stall door, smiling.

  Rosie paused. “What are you smiling about?”

  “For a moment there, I thought I had gone back in time twenty years, and I was watching your mom and Ebony.”

  Grandma picked up a comb and began to work on a tangle in Jet’s mane.

  Rosie brushed the pony’s soft black hair vigorously in circles with a rubber currycomb, then stopped to run her fingers through Jet’s coat. “She’s getting all fluffy.”

  “Yes, she’s beginning to get her winter coat.” “But it’s not even cold yet.”

  “Horses can’t wait until the first snowfall to put on a coat, like you can,” Grandma explained. “They start growing their winter coat early, so when it does get cold, they’re ready.”

  “How do they know to do that?” Rosie asked.

  “That’s one of the mysteries of God’s creation. It’s triggered somehow by the number of daylight hours. When the days grow shorter, their coats grow longer.”

  Rosie hit a particularly itchy spot, and Jet raised her head, stretching her neck out in a funny position. She brushed harder, and Jet extended her neck more. “I know you love me scratching your itchy spot, but you’re wearing my arm out.” She groaned and leaned against the pony’s shoulder for a short break.

  Rosie tossed the currycomb into the tack bucket and pawed around until she found a hoof pick. Standing at Jet’s left side, she ran her hand slowly down the pony’s front leg and lifted her foot. Rosie held the hoof up and picked it clean, then carefully set it down, repeating the process for each hoof until she was back where she started.

  Grandma laid a red wool blanket on the pony’s back, slid it into place, and smoothed out the wrinkles. She set a black western saddle on top of the blanket. “You’re growing so fast,

  it won’t be long before you’re tall enough to saddle Jet yourself. Do you remember how to tighten the girth?”

  “Of course, Grandma. A real cowgirl has to saddle her own horse, you know.” Rosie fed the leather strap through the ring in the girth and looped it up through the ring in the saddle.

  She pulled slowly and gradually until the girth was snug.

  “You’re getting good at that! Did I ever tell you about the time I didn’t tighten the girth enough on my pony, Dolly?”

  Rosie had heard the story before—so many times in fact that she’d stopped counting, but before she could say anything, her grandmother continued.

  “As I cantered across the field, the saddle tipped more and more.” Grandma leaned over to demonstrate. “Finally, I was so far sideways, I fell off. I wasn’t hurt, just a bit frightened. But I learned my lesson! I never forgot to check the girth after that.”

  Rosie put her helmet on and fastened the buckle. “I can’t imagine you as a little girl.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you think—I was always this old? I used to be a scrawny little horse-crazy girl just like you.”

  Rosie stood as straight and tall as she could. She knew her grandmother didn’t mean anything by it, but she was tired of being smaller than other kids her age. “I’m not scrawny!”

  “I know.” Grandma squeezed her shoulder. “You’re growing like a weed.” She held the headstall of the bridle in her right hand and guided the sna
ffle bit into the pony’s mouth with her left. Grandma gently tucked Jet’s ears under the bridle, then pointed to the throatlatch.

  Rosie fastened the buckle of the leather strap, and kissed Jet’s muzzle. “I have the best pony in the world!” She turned and hugged her grandmother’s waist. “And the best grandmother!”

  Chapter 2

  Rosie’s Surprise

  “You’re my favorite Rosie in the world!” Grandma handed Jet’s reins to her granddaughter, and they walked side by side to the arena.

  “Need any help getting—” Before Grandma could finish her question, Rosie had her foot in the stirrup and, with a little spring, was on the pony’s back. Grandma laughed. “You’ll be giving me riding lessons before long!”

  Rosie beamed. Everyone in her family rode horses—her grandmother, parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Rosie couldn’t wait until she could ride as well as everyone else. Well, she and her dad were about equal. Eric didn’t have much time to ride, but he had occasionally ridden Kezzie alongside Rosie and Jet that summer, with Grandma giving him a few pointers as well.

  Grandma stepped outside the arena and leaned against the top rail of the fence, raising a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. “Walk her around and let her stretch her legs for a few minutes. Then let me see a nice slow jog.”

  Rosie squeezed lightly with her heels, and leaned forward to pet the pony’s neck. “I love you, Jet!”

  “Sit up straight,” Grandma called out.

  Rosie sat up and looked ahead through Jet’s short, fuzzy ears, listening for her grandmother’s next instructions.

  After Grandma ran Rosie through several schooling exercises, she nodded approvingly. “You’re doing very well. I’ll be right back. I’m going to get Kezzie saddled.”

  “Okay.” Rosie signaled Jet to trot. She broke into a song as they trotted around the ring. The pony’s ears flicked back and forth, listening to her rider’s slightly off-key voice.