Emma and the Cutting Horse by Martha Deeringer Read Free Book Online Page A

her,” he told them. “I bring her all her feed
and water and hold it for her while she eats and drinks. That way
she associates my approach with something she likes. I’ve been
riding her twice a day for short periods, and she’s doing better.
Watch, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
    He slipped a bridle over Miss Dellfene’s
halter, tightened the cinch and led her into the arena. She
flinched when he stepped on, but didn’t try to buck or walk away
until he signaled for her to move out. He walked her slowly around
the arena, changing directions often and stopped her by pulling on
the reins very lightly and saying “Whoa!” Then he clucked to her
and squeezed her into a trot. In the far corner of the arena she
began pulling on the bit and shaking her head. She got her head
down low and began some half-hearted crow hopping. Gary pulled her
around in a tight circle. Then he straightened her out and squeezed
her into a trot again. After another round or two, he brought her
to a halt beside Emma’s dad.
    “I’m not loping her yet. I don’t want her to
get out of control. Before you go, I want to show you one more
thing. He rode her toward the center of the arena and then reined
her sharply to the left, leaning in the saddle and squeezing her
with his right leg. The mare sat back on her haunches and pivoted
around with a graceful sweep of her front legs. Gary patted her on
the neck and walked her back to the fence.
    “Wow! That was amazing for a half-broke
horse!” Emma’s dad told him.
    “Half-broke is right,” Gary chuckled. “She
has incredible natural balance, even without much training, but
there’s still some buck in her. I’d really like to work with her
for two more weeks. By then I think I should be able to tell you
more about what she can do.”
    Emma’s dad gazed at the mare thoughtfully for
a minute.
    “Okay,” he said. “Two more weeks.”
    * * *
    At school Emma did her best to avoid Candi
Haynes and her followers. When she had to pass them in the hall she
heard derisive laughter and an occasional whinny. If teachers were
patrolling the hallway, the girls limited their harassment to
pointing at Emma and snickering under their breaths. Her
embarrassment grew with each encounter, and she constantly checked
the hallway ahead, ducking into the bathroom or an open classroom
when she spotted Candi between classes.
    “You’d think I had said something nasty about
her mama from the way she’s tormenting me,” Emma told Hannah.
“She’s starting to make me feel like I’ve got an extra eye in the
middle of my forehead or something. It makes me mad that she won’t
leave me alone.”
    “I know what you mean,” Hannah said. “She
sure doesn’t know when to quit.”
    “What do you think I should do?” Emma
asked.
    “I don’t know. Once she starts to get under
somebody’s skin, it seems like nothing can stop her.”
    In the cafeteria, Candi made a point of
passing by the table where Emma was sitting.
    “Howdy there, Hillbilly,” she sang out loudly
as she ambled past.
    Emma stared angrily after her. She had a
sudden urge to rip the hair bow out of Candi’s perfect, blond hair
and smear food on her designer clothes. She needed to come up with
a plan to put an end to all this very public harassment.
    * * *
    Mrs. Killen, Emma’s algebra teacher, was
leaning against Emma’s locker after school a few days later.
    “What’s going on with this, Emma?” she asked,
moving away to show another sketch of a horse’s butt taped to
Emma’s locker door. A big pile of brown manure rested between the
horse’s hind legs with EMMA scrawled across it.
    Emma reached behind Mrs. Killen and ripped
the drawing off her locker door.
    “It’s...it’s just some kids teasing me,” Emma
stammered.
    “This doesn’t seem like a friendly kind of
teasing,” Mrs. Killen said. “As a matter of fact, I’ve thought for
several weeks now that something was bothering you. Do you want to
tell me about