The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Author:Kimberly Brubaker Bradley
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-12-03T16:00:00+00:00

Butter galloped. He trotted first, and that was so bouncy I had to hold on to his mane so I didn’t fall off. But I kept kicking him, and he trotted faster and faster, until suddenly everything evened out, and he was cantering. If I kept kicking him from there, he went faster still, until my eyes watered and the wind made noise in my ears. That was galloping. It was the best.

I tried to jump the stone wall of Butter’s pasture. I galloped him the length of the field, hard as I could, and steered him right toward the wall. He got close, closer, then slammed his feet into the ground. He stopped dead. I kept going, straight over his ears. I missed hitting the base of the wall, but not by much.

Susan came running into the field. I hadn’t known she was watching me. “Stop that, you idiot,” she said.

I looked at her. Butter was snorting and tossing his head, and I figured I’d better have another go at the wall quickly, before I lost my nerve.

“You don’t have the first clue what you’re doing,” Susan continued. “You get on over to Fred Grimes and get him to teach you something before you get yourself killed. Putting that poor pony at a three-foot wall, when he’s hardly ever jumped in his life!”

“He hasn’t?” I asked. I figured all horses knew how to jump walls. Jonathan’s horse hadn’t had any trouble with it.

“He hasn’t,” she said. She rubbed the end of Butter’s nose. “You’ll hurt him if you aren’t careful. You’ll scare him, and that’ll put him off jumping forever. Not to mention what it might do to you.”

She should talk about hurting the pony. Ignoring him until he was practically crippled. He’d been better as soon as his hooves were trimmed. Better the very next day.

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking,” she continued. “But I know what he needs now and I won’t hurt him again. You know what you need now too, because I’m telling you. You get on over to Fred Grimes.”

So I went on over to see Fred in the stables behind Maggie’s house. He agreed to watch me ride, and help me, for a bit of time after his lunch two days a week. In exchange I’d work for him the rest of the afternoon. Susan gave me a map she’d drawn, and showed me how to trace my route on it, so I wouldn’t be lost again. I tied my crutches to the back of the saddle so I had them for doing chores.

Fred taught me to kick less. He taught me to use one leg only to ask for a canter, so that I didn’t have to get bounced by the trot. He tried to teach me to post to the trot—to rise and fall to the motion smoothly, without bouncing—but that was hard with only one stirrup. He taught me more about steering, and when he was happy with my progress he set up little poles in the field beyond the stable yard and had me practice going over them.

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