Willow King by Chris Platt Page A

too,” Katie agreed. “Do you know she still acts like they’re going out? I want to laugh at her every time she says something about Jason.”
    â€œI don’t know why you put up with her,” Jan said between bites of her cookie.
    â€œI need the money her father pays me. Raising a colt isn’t cheap. Every dime my mom makes goes to pay bills. I have to come up with the money for King. It won’t be long until it’s time to wean him. Then the feed bill will really go sky-high.”
    â€œMoney or no, she’s going to make you look like a fool when you ride into that show ring on the back of that flea-bitten old Appy.”
    â€œHe’s really not so bad.” Katie put down her cookie and smiled mischievously. “I’ve got ten days to work on him.”
    Jan sat up in her chair. “What is it? You’ve got that look in your eye. I’ve got a feeling it has to do with Cindy, and I think I’m going to like it. Count me in.”
    â€œI was just thinking. That old Appy is three-quarters Thoroughbred. He looks like a racehorse with spots. They keep him in good shape—it’s just that they never care for his coat. I bet if we cleaned him up, he’d look passable.”
    â€œWhat are you getting at, pal?”
    â€œHe’s got a good mouth and smooth gaits. I bet if I worked with him a little, we could make a pretty decent showing for ourselves.”
    Jan smiled. “Good enough to beat Cindy on Jester?”
    â€œMaybe. Jester is well trained, and Cindy is doing much better with her equitation, but when she gets upset about something, sometimes she slips back into her old habits. Jester is good, but he can’t win on his own.”
    Jan clapped her hands. “I love it! When do we start?”
    Katie picked up the dirty dishes and stacked them in the sink. “We’ll have to get him over here so I can work on him, but I don’t want Cindy to suspect anything. We can’t let her know that he’s gone from the farm.”
    â€œYou could tell Mr. Ellis that the gray mare is sore and you need the Appy to pony King. Cindy has dancing lessons tomorrow. You’ll have an extra two hours after school to get the horse out of there. You told me they were breaking in a new pony horse, so they don’t use the Appy that much. Once he’s gone, Cindy will never miss him. She doesn’t pay much attention to the racehorses anyway.”
    â€œBrilliant!” Katie hugged her friend. “We start tomorrow.”
    Old John delivered the Appy the next afternoon. When Katie’s mother saw the trail of dust the horse van kicked up as it came up the drive, she called her daughter.
    John unloaded the scruffy-looking steed from the van and led him to a stall. He looked in on Grey Dancer and King, sweeping the hat from his head and dusting it off before he resettled it.
    â€œThis mare doesn’t seem to be off in her footing. Where’d you say she was sore?” He turned with a puzzled look on his face, waiting for an answer.
    â€œWell, er…,” Katie stammered. “She’s not exactly sore.” Katie lowered her eyes. She didn’t want to lie to John, but how did she explain the truth? Revenge and childish pranks didn’t go over well with adults.
    John noticed her nervousness, and a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with next week’s show, would it?”
    Katie lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “Yes, it does. I’m supposed to ride this old horse in competition with Cindy.”
    â€œWell, now, is that so?” John tipped his hat to a jaunty angle. “You know, before this horse came to the ranch, he used to belong to a little girl who loved to show. Of course, that was a long time ago, and who’s to say he remembers any of it. She sold him when she bought some big, fancy horse, but as I recall, this old boy