My Book

1. In the Beginning

Once there was a horse named Bravo. He was the best horse in the whole world. He had two friends. They were named Rebel and Bronty.

His best friend though was not a horse. She was a girl named Sara.

2. Experiment with long page

Hilltop Stable Mystery

Chapter 1

Grey light in the east outlined the foothills on the horizon. In a few weeks the mornings would be dark with Southern California's famous June gloom; for now, Kris savored the cool clarity of the spring mornings. She pulled the full cup of coffee from her single-cup maker and carried it to the kitchen table. She started most mornings this way so she could work on her laptop and watch the day start out her window.

As she settled herself, a full-throated whinny pierced the quiet of the morning, followed quickly by another in a higher pitch. Kris paused and listened; normally the horses were quiet at this time. They  didn't usually tune up until they heard her arrive at the hay barn.

Quiet returned, so Kris gave a mental shrug and turned her attention to her laptop screen. New emails loaded up quickly as she sipped her coffee. Among the plethora of marketing mail she quickly spotted a couple from friends. She clicked the one from Cathy, a colleague from her former life at the chemistry lab with whom she still kept in touch.

Before she could begin reading, a new round of neighing began, this one building quickly into a crescendo of back and forth excitement. Definitely not normal, and definitely needed checking out pronto.

Kris abandoned her morning routine and rushed about shedding PJs and throwing on jeans, t-shirt, and work shoes in record time while the cacophony outside continued. As manager of the boarding stable, it was on her if the horses were in trouble or if anything threatened their safety.

The screen door slammed behind her, and she recognized her gelding Mirage's whinny welcoming her as she jogged down the well-worn track from her door, down the slope that led to the stable proper.

Mirage, in the pipe corral closest to the caretaker's unit, was the only horse who took a moment to glance at Kris. Beyond her, the dozen or so horses in their own pens were all heads up and ears pointed toward the entrance gate.

Well, probably not dogs then. Most likely one of the boarders trying to get an early ride in, and forgetting that they needed a combination to unlock the stable gate at this hour.

Kris sighed as she stumped down the graveled road that led to the stable entrance, still hidden by a stand of tall oaks that provided welcome shade to the row of horse corrals.

The horses nickered at her as she passed, some still worked up enough to trot briskly back and forth, kicking up the dust. Just as she registered that the sound was not coming from any of the horses she'd just passed – did someone get loose during the night? – she saw the reason for the commotion standing on the other side of the locked entrance gates.

Two horses were tied to the closed gate. They were both in a sad state, all bones, rought shaggy hair, and tired desperate eyes. One was dark, maybe a dark bay or even black, though the rays of the rising sun pulled rusty lights from its coat. The other was more a pony than a horse, a dull red-brown all over.

The dark horse had its head up, sharp-pointed ears aimed at Kris, and a regal bearing that defied its pathetic appearance. The pony had its nose to the ground and looked merely exhausted.

Kris muttered a curse. Her eyes darted up and down the road that curved past the stable entrance. No one in sight. Didn't matter at the moment anyhow. How they came to be tied to the stable's front gate was a mystery for another time. What mattered was getting these two animals to a safe spot where they could be watered and fed, and seen by a vet as soon as possible. She hurried to the gate and worked the lock, the two animals watching warily. "Don't worry, you guys." Kris spoke in the most reassuring tone she could muster. "I don't know where you came from, but you're safe now."

"It's criminal, is what it is."

"I can't believe anyone would let a horse get into such a state.'

"I know! And then, who brought them here? And why here?"

"Maybe it's the closest place to where they came from."

Silence while the three ladies, all of mature years, stood in a cluster outside the stalls that now housed the vagabonds, and pondered what sort of criminally negligent households they knew of nearby.

Kris joined them, dusty and hot from having hustled through the morning feeding chores.

"Kris, what are we going to do with these poor animals?" cried Gretchen, the stable owner. She'd arrived as quickly as she could this morning in response to Kris's cell phone call, humming over from the main house in her electric golf cart. Quick response notwithstanding, her short stout figure was clad in the usual bright scarf and natty sweater and pants, with a billed driving cap atop her permed gray hair.

"I've got a call in to Dr. Hanover's office," Kris said. "They're sending someone over as soon as they can, but it probably won't be until early afternoon."

"What about the sheriff?" asked Charlotte. Taller than any of the other women, she stood with her thin arms crossed defensively over her chest. "Someone needs to go to jail for treating animals like this."

"But who?" asked practical Maggie, Charlotte's long-time trail-riding buddy. The two ladies and their horses had logged more miles together than pioneers crossing the country, Kris figured. Hardly a day passed when they didn't arrive early at the stable, saddle up, and disappear down the trail for hours at a time. "I mean, I'm all for justice for these poor horses, but you gotta find the perp first."

The two objects of concern were quiet. The black mare stood with her nose in the haynet Kris had provided, munching steadfastly at the sweet-smelling alfalfa. The pony had laid down with a sigh in the deep bedding of his stall, and other than drinking a bucketful of water, had not moved since.

"It's all too much," muttered Gretta.

3. The End

That's all folks.