“What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Phil asked.
“That sound.” Stevie cocked her head and listened carefully. “
Bells?
”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said.
Stevie turned in her saddle and looked over her shoulder. There, behind them, but coming up on them quickly, was an old-fashioned horse-drawn sleigh! In the seat, riding proudly, were Maxmillian Regnery and his mother! In the back of the sleigh was a big sack that looked suspiciously like something Santa Claus might use. And in the front, taking the place of the flying reindeer, was Max’s horse, Diablo, who was proudly drawing the sleigh across the field. His harness even had jingling bells on it.
Carole signaled for a stop. All of the riders on the traildrew their horses to a halt so they could watch the sleigh. Each of them had seen it in the storage area of the stable for years, but none of them had ever seen it in use. After all, they lived in Virginia, where it hardly ever snowed. When it did snow, it wasn’t always the proper occasion for a one-horse open sleigh. But tonight was exactly the proper occasion for it. It looked wonderful!
“I think we’re going to have to sing!” Carole announced. Everybody thought it was a fine idea and nobody argued about the song. They all burst into “Jingle Bells” and began riding as they sang.
The horses loved the music. They all seemed to pick up their stride and walk more proudly, almost marching. Carole and all the other riders waved to Max and Mrs. Reg as they slid across the field toward the forest.
The riders were still singing “Jingle Bells” when they reached the first farmhouse. There was a candle in each of its windows and, in the back, where there was a picture window, Carole and her friends could see a brightly lighted Christmas tree. A party was going on inside. The guests crowded to the windows to see the Starlight Riders and waved.
At the next house, which had a decorated spruce in the backyard, the whole family came out to welcome the riders. “Merry Christmas!” they called. The riders returned the greeting.
“Sing ‘Jingle Bells’ again,” one of the children requested. The riders were only too happy to do it.
“I think we need a new song,” Carole said after they finished. “How about ‘Here We Come A-Wassailing,’ only let’s make it ‘Here We Come A-Riding’!” They tried that one out and liked it as well.
Stevie enjoyed the singing and she liked hearing Phil’s strong baritone next to her own alto voice. It seemed like all their voices echoed in the cold night, carrying for miles.
Now Carole led the riders up the hill and into the woods, where the trail narrowed, but was still lighted and decorated. The woods were silent in the winter night. Here, the blanket of snow changed the sound, making everything quieter. The forest felt close and friendly, as if it had walls to protect the riders wherever they went.
“O, little town of Bethlehem,” Stevie began.
“How still we see thee lie,” Phil sang, joining in. The rest of the riders took up the song.
When the carol was done, they all rode in contented silence.
Finally, they crested the hill, rounded the bend, and came to the little road that led toward the center of town. When the last rider was out of the woods and on firm ground, Carole told them they could trot.
Pretty Boy seemed relieved to be allowed to go faster. It was as if he’d been holding in all his energy for this moment. He broke into a trot immediately. Carole couldn’t believe his gait. Every horse’s gait is as individual as the horse, some better than others. Pretty Boy’s trot was wonderfuland smooth. He had a long, proud stride, and his mane lifted in the breeze. He shook his head with joy, it seemed. Carole laughed joyfully with him.
And then it was almost time for the ride to be over. The Starlight Riders reached the center of town, where there was a small park. They circled the park, trotting halfway around and then walking the
“What’s what?” Phil asked.
“That sound.” Stevie cocked her head and listened carefully. “
Bells?
”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said.
Stevie turned in her saddle and looked over her shoulder. There, behind them, but coming up on them quickly, was an old-fashioned horse-drawn sleigh! In the seat, riding proudly, were Maxmillian Regnery and his mother! In the back of the sleigh was a big sack that looked suspiciously like something Santa Claus might use. And in the front, taking the place of the flying reindeer, was Max’s horse, Diablo, who was proudly drawing the sleigh across the field. His harness even had jingling bells on it.
Carole signaled for a stop. All of the riders on the traildrew their horses to a halt so they could watch the sleigh. Each of them had seen it in the storage area of the stable for years, but none of them had ever seen it in use. After all, they lived in Virginia, where it hardly ever snowed. When it did snow, it wasn’t always the proper occasion for a one-horse open sleigh. But tonight was exactly the proper occasion for it. It looked wonderful!
“I think we’re going to have to sing!” Carole announced. Everybody thought it was a fine idea and nobody argued about the song. They all burst into “Jingle Bells” and began riding as they sang.
The horses loved the music. They all seemed to pick up their stride and walk more proudly, almost marching. Carole and all the other riders waved to Max and Mrs. Reg as they slid across the field toward the forest.
The riders were still singing “Jingle Bells” when they reached the first farmhouse. There was a candle in each of its windows and, in the back, where there was a picture window, Carole and her friends could see a brightly lighted Christmas tree. A party was going on inside. The guests crowded to the windows to see the Starlight Riders and waved.
At the next house, which had a decorated spruce in the backyard, the whole family came out to welcome the riders. “Merry Christmas!” they called. The riders returned the greeting.
“Sing ‘Jingle Bells’ again,” one of the children requested. The riders were only too happy to do it.
“I think we need a new song,” Carole said after they finished. “How about ‘Here We Come A-Wassailing,’ only let’s make it ‘Here We Come A-Riding’!” They tried that one out and liked it as well.
Stevie enjoyed the singing and she liked hearing Phil’s strong baritone next to her own alto voice. It seemed like all their voices echoed in the cold night, carrying for miles.
Now Carole led the riders up the hill and into the woods, where the trail narrowed, but was still lighted and decorated. The woods were silent in the winter night. Here, the blanket of snow changed the sound, making everything quieter. The forest felt close and friendly, as if it had walls to protect the riders wherever they went.
“O, little town of Bethlehem,” Stevie began.
“How still we see thee lie,” Phil sang, joining in. The rest of the riders took up the song.
When the carol was done, they all rode in contented silence.
Finally, they crested the hill, rounded the bend, and came to the little road that led toward the center of town. When the last rider was out of the woods and on firm ground, Carole told them they could trot.
Pretty Boy seemed relieved to be allowed to go faster. It was as if he’d been holding in all his energy for this moment. He broke into a trot immediately. Carole couldn’t believe his gait. Every horse’s gait is as individual as the horse, some better than others. Pretty Boy’s trot was wonderfuland smooth. He had a long, proud stride, and his mane lifted in the breeze. He shook his head with joy, it seemed. Carole laughed joyfully with him.
And then it was almost time for the ride to be over. The Starlight Riders reached the center of town, where there was a small park. They circled the park, trotting halfway around and then walking the
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