Crown Prince by Linda Snow McLoon Page B

‘big horse,’ with speed to burn. You never know. It’s great to groom a horse with class, if you’re lucky enough.”
    â€œHow about Crown Prince?” she asked. “Can you tell me where he is?”
    â€œOh, that one?” He looked at her curiously. “You’re interested in him? Well, he’s around here somewhere. Maybe on the other side,” he said, gesturing down the shed row. With that he cut the twine on the straw bale and went to work in the stall next to Cody’s, shaking the straw out with a pitchfork.
    Sarah looked up and down the aisle. Somehow she couldn’t get Crown Prince out of her mind. Rudy had painted the horse as a hard-to-manage rogue. Could he really be that bad? She wanted to see for herself. Slowly she worked her way along the shed row, looking at each horse as she passed. Most had returned to their stalls, and grooms were busy filling water buckets, doing up legs with support bandages, and carrying off muck baskets to the manure bin. Many of the horses wore halters with name-plates. She checked the names on each one, but saw no sign of Crown Prince. Rudy Dominic hadn’t given any clues to his whereabouts. Where was the mystery horse?
    At the end of the shed row Sarah neared the darker area by the barn’s feedroom, where the extended roof blocked the sunlight. As she started past what appeared to be an unused stall with both its top and bottom doors shut, she heard a faint noise. She stopped in her tracks and stood still, listening. There it was again, the sound of a rustle in straw that seemed to come from inside the stall.
    Turning back, Sarah cautiously opened the stall’s top door and peered inside. When her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she could make out the silhouette of a horse against the far wall. He was like a giant statue, his head high and alert. Maybe this was Crown Prince! It was strange to find him shut up in his stall like this when all the other horses’ top stall doors were open. Had Rudy hoped to keep them from seeing him? She couldn’t imagine why else the big horse would be kept in the dark.
    Sarah stood quietly watching the horse. There was no movement as he stood facing the far corner, ignoring her. She clucked softly, but there was no response. Her hand dug deep in her pocket in hopes of finding one more carrot, but it was empty. Nothing was left, except perhaps…yes, in her other pocket she felt a peppermint candy, which she withdrew and slowly unwrapped. In response to the crinkling of the cellophane, a slim finely chiseled head turned her way, his ears pricked forward. He wore a halter, but was too far away for her to read the nameplate. She placed her outstretched hand with the peppermint over the stall door and spoke softly, “Prince, come Prince.”
    Slowly the horse turned from the rear wall and cautiously moved toward her. As he got closer, she felt delicate nostrils blow gently on her hand and then the slender muzzle lifted the peppermint away. He studied her as he chewed the candy slowly and deliberately.
    He was big. Except for the enormous draft horses she had seen in pulling competitions at the state fair, this horse was larger than any Sarah had ever seen, including Chancellor. The only horse who might possibly match his size was Donegal Lad. But this horse possessed such refinement his size wasn’t readily evident until he was close. In the dimly lit stall his dark bay coat looked almost black, and his only marking was a small white star in the center of his forehead. The deep straw bedding hid any possible white markings on his legs.
    For several moments Sarah and the horse stood looking at each other. Then she lifted the stall door’s latch and let herself inside. As Crown Prince retreated to the corner, she reached back over the door to lower the latch back into position. Slowly she approached the horse, all the while talking softly. “Good boy, good