Pony Rebellion by Janet Rising Read Free Book Online Page B

dismounts and hanging on to one side of Drummer over jumps, I hastily quit my stirrups, dropped my reins, and threw my right leg over Drummer’s neck, grabbing the reins again as I slipped off over his left-hand side to land on the pavement on my feet, reins in one hand, the stirrup leather attached to Henry in the other.
    â€œWhere are you going?” I heard Drummer ask me, looking around in bewilderment as I yanked testily on Henry’s head collar.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the passenger rider walking toward me, unfastening his helmet, and lifting it upward. My heart sank. I’d known car drivers to hurl abuse at horse riders, telling them to get off the road—like they own it. They didn’t seem to understand that sometimes it’s the only way to get from one bridle path to another, and we were only on it today because of Henry’s impromptu adventure on the baseball field. I hoped there wasn’t going to be shouting. I took a deep breath, intending to thank the bike rider for switching off his engine before his enraged passenger rider could get a word in edgewise.
    But as the passenger rider came menacingly toward me and as his head was finally released from the helmet, a cascade of blond curls tumbled down. My mouth fell open in amazement—and stayed there.
    The passenger rider, dressed head to toe in black leather, was my mom.

Pia, are you all right? Did we make you fall off?” Mom asked anxiously, staring at my face for signs, presumably, of pain.
    â€œNo, no, I’m fine,” I assured her. “Look, I landed on my feet.” I wasn’t fine. I was a mess—what was my mom doing on the back of a motorcycle. Motor cycle! I had so got the wrong end of the stick, as usual. And leather, whatever next? I mean, I’d been right about the package—what had been in it was almost kinky.
    â€œHello, Mrs. Edwards,” chanted Bean and James behind me. I was sure I could detect an undercurrent of smirking. No wonder—my mom was a biker chick . I’d never live it down. Henry, oblivious to my murderous mood, stuck his head down to eat the grass on the shoulder of the road. I hauled it up again. He was starting to get on my nerves. Correction: I had one nerve left, and he was on it !
    â€œI asked Mike to stop when I saw the horses and then, when I saw it was you—hello, Drummer—I couldn’t believe it. And then when I saw you fall off…” my mom began.
    â€œI didn’t fall off!” I insisted. “I was pulled off! There’s a difference!”
    A car pulled up behind us all, and Moth’s anxiety level rose.
    â€œLook, we’d better go,” said James.
    â€œYes, yes—we’ll follow you,” said Mom.
    â€œNo, Mom, we’ll be fine—the gate to Laurel Farm is only around the corner. Just let this car past, and we’ll be there in two shakes. Go on with your…your ride.”
    But she didn’t. She waited until we’d turned into the drive, and then I heard the motorcycle slowly following us. I couldn’t believe it—my mom in leather, at the yard . I could imagine Cat’s reaction. Would my mom ever tire of finding ways to embarrass me?
    Cat wasn’t at the yard, thank goodness. I shoved Henry into his stable, glad to see the back of his black tail and wishing we’d left him at the baseball field for someone else—or not—to find, then I put Drummer away.
    â€œYour mom’s still experimenting, I see,” he said as I took off his bridle.
    â€œI’m not in the mood,” I told him sharply.
    â€œStill trying to find herself, is she?”
    â€œLeave it!”
    â€œShe’s entitled to her hobbies, isn’t she? Just like you are?”
    â€œDon’t side with her. You’re my pony, remember?”
    â€œOh, and there I was thinking you were my human.”
    â€œAlways have an answer for everything, don’t