NORA AND THE SUMMER HORSES
Helen N. Tyrrell


CHAPTER 1 - FIRST YOU HAVE TO
FIND 'EM


Speeding north along the highway leaving Chicago, traffic converging south on the metropolis, Nora felt a moment of utter contentment. The sun was just chipping the edges of the over-arching leafy branches. They were on their way to Wisconsin and already the air had changed. The road smell was giving way to a grassy odor.

She kept her eyes almost closed so she could enjoy just looking at Eduardo as he drove. He was really fun to look at. Last year he was cute but was only a stable boy, or more correctly, a groom. This year, almost eighteen, he was acquiring those Latin good looks, olive skin, flashing smile and deep-set dark eyes that turned many heads. Now promoted to assistant stable manager, he had a confident air of authority which suited him. She was thrilled that he wanted to take her in his new car and dozed off thinking about that.

"Hey, Nora!" he called out to wake her up, "Check the map, will you? I think our turnoff should be coming up pretty soon."

Nora unfolded the map with great care hoping this might be the time she could refold it correctly. Carefully she traced the route as she remembered Arletta describing it. Sand River Road should be right about here. "Ohmigosh, I think that was it!"

Eduardo stopped and backed up the Ford until they could read the sign.

"Nora, what did she say the name of the place was?"

"The Sand River Equestrian Academy and Boarding Stables, I think."

"Boy, that's a lot of name for anything on this road. It isn't even paved. Well, we'll try it."

As they bounced along with no sign of any buildings, Nora was ready to call it off and turn around when part of a sign, almost obscured by the undergrowth, caught her eye. "Stop, Eduardo, I see something - look!"

He skidded to a stop just in time to see the half hidden sign that read "-iver -ables."

"That's it!" Nora almost shouted.

"That's what?" Eduardo said, looking at the unhinged gate and crooked fence posts.

"It's Sand River Stables, I think. It does look pretty run down, but since we're here, let's check it out."

Slowly Eduardo steered up the drive until they were over the first hill. The valley before them was lush and green. No horses were in sight. Another hill and a barn became visible. A row of ten paddocks abutted the building on each side. The barn was badly in need of paint, and the fencing between the paddocks was dilapidated. The ground in each paddock was piled with manure.

"This looks bad!" Eduardo said, as they came to a stop.

Nora agreed, getting out of the car. They walked in the open doors. At the sound of their feet on the old planks, twenty heads, ten on each side, poked over the stall doors, noses pointed hopefully in their direction. A ripple of whinnies started up until a quavering chorus of hungry neighing shuddered through the whole barn.

This brought a corpulent old man in overalls out of the first stall, which had a sign on the door saying "Office." It contained some dust-laden cabinets, a bulletin board with yellowed clippings, and a huge desk. In one of the drawers the open end of a bottle was just visible.

Mopping his face with a faded towel, he seemed to be trying hard to present the image of a busy executive disturbed in the middle of a momentous decision.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

Eduardo put a warning hand on Nora's shoulder, letting her know he anticipated what she was about to say. He spoke up quickly.

"Sir, this is Nora Miller. She is considering applying to the Crystal Lake Camp Association as a riding counselor, and we understand you will be supplying the horses for the summer so we thought we'd drive up and take a look. We're from Glencarth Stables, just outside of Evanston. I'm Eduardo Escobar, the Assistant Manager."

The man took his outstretched hand, shook it briefly, nodded in Nora's direction and said, "I'm Clarence Bragen, Stable Manager. I don't know who sent you up here, but you've wasted a trip. These aren't the summer horses. Those will come from upstate."

"Do you mind if we look around?"

"Suit yourself, but watch out for that black in the corner. He's a mean sonofagun. If he can, he'll take a piece outta ya!"

"Okay, we'll watch it."

"Do me a favor, and don't hang around. Strangers make 'em nervous. They just came in and I've got to get 'em in shape."

"Whose are they?" Nora asked.

"They belong to Mr. Merriman. If you'll excuse me, I've got work to do. Nice meeting you." He slammed the office door behind him.

"C'mon Nora." Eduardo tried to steer her out of the barn, but she resisted.

"Wait a sec. I want to see that horse in the corner."

"Okay, as long as you don't insist on going into the stall with him."

"Of course not. He isn't my horse and he doesn't sound friendly, but oh look - he's a beauty if you don't count the burrs and dirt. Look at that mane. His forelock is clear down to his nose!"

"Nora, you're too close already. Please get back!"

The horse had his ears flat back. His nostrils flared as Nora extended her hand. After a mighty snort, he stretched out his neck to sniff her hand and his ears pricked forward.

"See, he's not really mean. Something bad has happened to him and he's suspicious. I'll bet I could gentle him. Do you think he's purebred? What breed is he, I wonder- can you tell?"

"Easy, Nora. He's a stallion so they're probably using him for breeding, which could explain his bad disposition. I agree he doesn't seem really crazy mean, but he's definitely got a grudge. As to his breed, I dunno. That long mane looks Andalusian but that's pretty unlikely."

"What's that?"

"It's a Spanish breed. My father's famous Lothario was one. It takes an expert to handle one of that breed."

"Am I an expert?"

"I think you're going to be someday, but this