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mysteriously, “but you’ll all love it, I promise!”

Tiffany is definitely getting braver, don’t you think?” asked Bean as her golden mare demonstrated her courage by snorting and sidestepping a puddle.
    â€œNo,” James and I said together.
    â€œWell, I think she is,” Bean said defensively, shrugging her shoulders.
    â€œShe’s better on the activity ride than I thought she’d be, I have to admit that,” James said.
    â€œMmmm, that’s true,” I agreed.
    The three of us were making our way back to Laurel Farm having enjoyed a fantastic ride around the countryside in the fall sunshine. All the leaves still clinging to the trees were burnished fiery red and gold by the afternoon sunlight, and the ponies’ hooves made a swishing sound as they walked through the crisp leaves that had already fallen. I could hear Drummer and Tiffany muttering away to each other and, occasionally, I even heard Moth add a whisper to the equine conversation. This was progress—she still didn’t speak directly to me—but at least she was getting confident enough to converse with the other ponies when she knew I could hear her. But only just.
    â€œMoth needs clipping again. Her coat has grown so fast,” I remarked, looking at the sweat on Moth’s chestnut neck, making her half-grown coat crinkle up like a wet sheep.
    James nodded. “I know. I’ll ask Sophie whether she’ll have time next week when I’m at school. Oh, I forgot to tell her, Dec’s totally up for helping out with the activity ride—moving jumps and stuff. I sort of twisted his arm.”
    I sniffed, wondering whether Declan would be as anti Pia as his sister.
    â€œHe helped you when you rescued Moth, didn’t he?” asked Bean, sitting another swerve from Tiffany around something that couldn’t be seen by the naked eye and probably wasn’t there.
    â€œYup, he’s a good friend,” confirmed James. “And he’s really into working out. He’ll be perfect for running around and moving things. Hey, what’s going on?” he continued as all the ponies lifted their heads and stared at a man getting out of his car. The bridle path ran alongside a gravel parking lot where people often parked while they walked their dogs, but this man was alone and dressed in a suit—not usual garb for a hike around the countryside. He beckoned us over, clearly reluctant to walk far in his expensive shoes.
    â€œDid you lose a horse?” he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose and shivering. He was about Mom’s age and managed to look both annoyed and worried at the same time.
    James shook his head. “Nope, all present and correct!”
    â€œWell, there’s a black horse on the baseball field,” continued the man, pointing behind him. “A magnificent black horse wearing a fancy bridle. It isn’t supposed to be there you know. The field is sacred, and a horse like that can do a lot of damage. You’ll have to remove it.”
    Bean and I exchanged glances. We didn’t care about the baseball field, but a magnificent black horse sounded like news. Wearing a fancy bridle, eh? Lead us to it!
    â€œIt’s not ours,” explained James, “and it doesn’t sound familiar. A black horse, you say?”
    â€œYes, yes,” nodded the man, like we were stupid. “A magnificent big black horse,” he continued, waving his arms at the magnificence of it all. “On the baseball field, tearing up the grass. You must know who it belongs to.”
    â€œWhy should we?” asked Bean.
    The man turned and looked at her. “You’re on horses,” he said illogically. Like we know who owns every equine in the vicinity. There are tons of stables around, but we didn’t know everyone. It didn’t seem worth explaining that.
    â€œWe’ll take a look if you like,” said James, turning Moth in the