Runaway by Dandi Daley Mackall Read Free Book Online Page B

the back of the stall.
    I duck out of the stall and close the latch.
    “Dakota?” Hank strides up the aisle toward me. “I thought you went back to the house.”
    I shrug. “I’m just looking around. That’s okay, isn’t it?” I ask, taking on the role of the poor orphan waif, eager to please.
    “Of course,” Hank answers. “Just don’t get too close to this horse.”
    “Why?”
    “He was pretty badly abused before his owner got him. Actually, my grandmother bought him because she’d seen him mistreated. I’m trying to settle him for her, but he won’t let me near him.”
    “Your grandmother rides horses?” I ask.
    Hank laughs. “You obviously haven’t met Gram. She loves all animals, from a respectable distance.”
    Guinevere scurries up to stand between us. “They didn’t call that horse ‘Black Devil’ for nothing. I’ve been telling Hank he shouldn’t waste his time. He can’t save every horse on the planet.”
    “He doesn’t look wild to me,” I say, afraid to tell them I’ve been petting his grandmother’s horse.
    “That’s because you’re not in there with him,” Guinevere says. She leans into Hank. “Let’s go back and work with Lancelot, Hank. I want to ride.”
    Hank takes one more look at Blackfire. I will never call him Black Devil. They’re so wrong about this horse. Then Hank lets himself be pulled away by the impatient Lady Guinevere.
    He glances back over his shoulder as she pulls him up the aisle. “You can watch if you want, Dakota.”
    But I’m already heading out of the barn. “Thanks. I’m good. I’ve got stuff to do inside.”
    What I do inside is take out my list-book and start a new page:
    Top 10 Reasons Not to Like Guinevere
    1. The stuck-up name fits.
    2. She’s Cruella De Vil . . . without the heart.
    3. She’s Frankenstein . . . without Frank’s charm.
    4. She’s Cinderella’s stepmother . . . without the sense of fair play.
    5. She’s the Joker . . . without his sense of humor.
    6. She’s Lex Luthor . . . without the goodwill.
    7. She’s Montana Max and Yosemite Sam rolled into one . . . without their sweetness.
    8. She’s Sheldon J. Plankton . . . without the good taste.
    9. She’s Dracula . . . without his unselfishness.
    10. She’s Captain Hook . . . without the kindness.

Eight
    Wednesday I sleep in on purpose. Then I lie in bed another hour, reliving my time with Blackfire. It feels so much like a dream that I’m almost afraid to go back to the barn.
    When I finally venture out of my room, Kat is sitting on the top step, blocking the stairs. She’s holding her kitten, plus two bigger cats. She grins at me and whispers, “Barney and Fred don’t like each other. I’m trying to find them separate owners.”
    “Did somebody dump the cats here?” I wonder how often this happens and if they can possibly find homes for all the animals. But it’s not my problem.
    Kat shakes her head. Her hair is working itself out of the still-black ponytail it’s stuck in. So I figure black must be her real color.
    “We got Fred on his last day at the animal shelter. Barney belonged to one of Gram’s friends who died. We’ll find him a good home. He’s a great cat.”
    “Hank’s grandmother is the one who brought over that black horse in the barn, right?” I’m trying to imagine an old lady who saves animals but doesn’t like them.
    “Yeah. Did you see that horse? He’s really wild.”
    “So they say.” I ease by her on the steps. Fred squirms and tries to get loose, but Barney doesn’t budge. Kat’s kitten hides its head under her arm. “Do you know where Hank is?”
    “I think he went for a ride on Starlight. Mom’s at the hospital, of course. Dad’s in town getting groceries.”
    Cool! Blackfire should be by himself. I rush downstairs and outside. The screen door slams behind me, and I hear dogs barking. Two smallish mutts race across the yard toward me, yapping like crazy. I don’t know whether to wait and see if they’re all