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stable.
    “Are we the only ones here?” whispered Carole.
    “I think so,” Skye whispered back. “They reserved this barn for the movie horses. All the racetrack trainers are in another barn.”
    “So creepy old George isn’t here?” Stevie asked hopefully.
    Skye shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to be.” He gave asmall laugh. “I’ve noticed George doesn’t make many of the early calls.”
    They turned the corner and neared Mabel’s stall. Already her pretty head was sticking out above the door, an anxious, worried look in her eyes.
    “Uh-oh,” said Skye. “I think we interrupted her beauty sleep.”
    “Let’s all stay back here and approach her one at a time,” suggested Carole. “Maybe crowds are what freak her out.”
    “Okay.” Lisa eyed the cranky-looking horse. “Who wants to approach her first?”
    “I vote for Carole,” Skye said with a laugh.
    Everyone turned and looked expectantly at Carole. She smiled and pulled something from the pocket of her breeches. It was a sandwich bag filled with bits of apple and carrot and several lumps of sugar.
    “I figured you guys might volunteer me for this, so I came prepared. Let’s see what works with Miss Mabel.” She took out a small piece of carrot and slowly approached the stall, holding both hands in loose fists and not looking Mabel in the eye. The big mare stomped but didn’t try to kick or shy back in her stall.
    “Why is she walking like that?” whispered Skye.
    “It’s the Monty Roberts way,” replied Stevie. “If you avoid eye contact, the horse won’t feel threatened.”
    Slowly, Carole walked up to the stall, keeping hergaze on the ground. Mabel watched her with her ears pricked. When Carole got to within a foot of the horse’s door, she extended her outstretched palm with the carrot. Mabel made a quick lunge at the tiny morsel of food, nipping Carole’s hand in the process.
    “Ouch!” said Carole, jerking her hand back in spite of herself. “She certainly has a hearty appetite.”
    “Particularly when fingers are on the menu,” chuckled Skye.
    “Let’s try something else,” Carole said, frowning thoughtfully as Mabel chomped her carrot.
    This time Carole held out a small piece of apple. Mabel again watched her like a hawk, but when she lunged for the food, Carole jerked her hand back.
    “No, no, Mabel,” Carole corrected softly. “That’s not the way to take an apple from someone’s hand.”
    She extended her hand again. Again Mabel watched for an opportunity to snap, and again Carole pulled her hand back. After several more tries, it occurred to Mabel that if she approached the apple slowly, it would stay in place for her to nibble.
    “There.” Carole smiled as the horse finally took the apple gently, with her lips barely touching Carole’s hand. “Mabel’s just passed her first lesson in table manners.”
    Grinning with delight, Skye, Stevie, and Lisa began to clap softly.
    “You’re really terrific, Carole,” Skye said. “I didn’t think I’d ever see Mabel behaving this nicely.”
    “Well, I don’t think she’s a perfect horse yet,” said Carole, aware of the still-contrary gleam in Mabel’s eyes. “But at least we know she’s smart enough to make some progress.”
    For the next hour, they all worked hard with Mabel, cajoling her with bits of apple and lumps of sugar. By seven-fifteen, she allowed Skye to clip a lead line on her halter for the first time since filming had begun.
    “Ta-da!” crowed Skye, excited by his success as Mabel allowed him to lead her from her stall. “It’s Mabel the Wonder Horse!”
    “I wouldn’t go that far,” laughed Carole. “Even the greenest foals permit lead lines on their halters at six months old. At this rate, I figure Mabel’s only five or six years behind schedule!”
    As they worked with her, Mabel became even more gentle. With lots of praise and little bits of apple, they taught her to accept Skye’s leading her and brushing her long, luxurious tail.