Lucky Horse by Bonnie Bryant

and bent his left leg as Carole had told him. On the count of three she boosted him up, and a second later he was sitting easily on Rambler’s bare back.
    “Okay,” said Carole, leading Rambler by the rope. “Just hang on and we’ll be home in no time.”
    She led the horse slowly back down the trail. He seemed to sense the vulnerability of his rider and softened the jigging gait he’d used with Carole to a smooth, ground-covering walk. In just a little while, the orange tent again beckoned through the trees.
    “Wow,” said Colonel Hanson. “That tent sure looks good.”
    “I left the solar light on to welcome us home,” said Carole. She led Rambler as close to the tent as she could, then told her dad to keep his left leg bent when he slid off the horse.
    “There,” said Colonel Hanson as he hit the ground with a soft thud. He hopped on one foot and gave Rambler a good scratch behind the ears. “Thanks, boy,” he said. “We’re lucky you came visiting again.”
    “Let’s get you in bed,” said Carole. She helped herfather hop into the tent and into his sleeping bag. She filled an ice pack from the refrigerator and put it on his ankle.
    “I think that’s all we can do tonight,” she said, looking at the swollen mass of her father’s foot.
    “I think that’s all we can do until we go home,” said Colonel Hanson. “If it’s broken they won’t set it till the swelling goes down. And if it’s not broken, just keeping it iced is the best thing we can do right now.” He leaned back in his sleeping bag and smiled at Carole.
    “Thanks, honey. I’m so proud of you. We were in a real jam up there, and you never lost your head.”
    “Well, I almost did when the lightning struck,” Carole laughed.
    “You know what I mean.” Her father grinned. “You’re a real trouper.” He held his hand up.
“Semper fi.”
    “
Semper fi
, Dad,” she said, giving him a soft high five. “Right now I think I’d better see that Rambler gets back to his own corral.”
    “I wish I could help you,” Colonel Hanson said.
    “Just stay there and rest.” Carole smiled. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    When she came through the tent flaps, Rambler hadn’t moved.
    “Hey, boy,” she said softly, grabbing his makeshift reins and leading him to their cooking supplies. “Let’ssee if there’s anything in here you might like. I think you’ve earned a reward.”
    She opened the refrigerator and found some apples in the crisper. She took one and fed it to the horse. He chewed noisily and shook his head up and down. Like most horses, apples seemed to be among his favorite treats.
    “Thanks for helping me get my dad down from the mountain, boy.” She rubbed his soft neck. “You’re a champ of a horse. I wish I could keep you, but I’ve got to take you home.”
    She hoisted herself onto his back and pointed him in the direction of his campsite. He had no problem navigating through the dark woods, and in just a few minutes he was back in his paddock, nuzzling with his leopard Appaloosa friend. Carole untied the rope from his halter and again secured the loose paddock rope to the tree. “Your owners may be great riders, but they’re not such hot paddock makers,” Carole whispered, casting a glance at the dark green tent. Obviously the Loftins had tied their tent flaps down against the rain and had slept through the monstrous thunderstorm. Well, she wasn’t going to wake them up now to tell them some wild tale about her horse rescuing her father from the mountain. She gave Rambler and his friend a final rub. “You guys be good, now. And stay inside the paddock!”
    She turned on her flashlight and hurried back up the trail. They were great horses. She had a feeling they might be wasted on their owners.
    By the time she got back to the tent, her father was dozing. His ankle was still elevated on the ice pack, and he seemed to be resting comfortably.
That’s great
, she thought as she took her wet jacket off