Read an excerpt:
A gaggle of little girls wearing jodhpurs, with their long braids tied with bows, clusters around the car next to our trailer.
A man with a big voice and hearty laugh is frying an egg on the hood. “Who wants sunny side up?” he asks.
A round of giggles, and one girl says, “Over easy for me!”
Those hair bows – triple layered, in shades of pink, purple and turquoise, some with gems in the middle – make them look so sweet, but I know what those girls grow up to be like.
“Mavis!” Laney snaps her fingers at me.
“Please tell me you didn’t just snap at me,” I say. I’m used to riding coaches being tough, but those are top-notch coaches with full barns and waiting lists. Not you-weren’t-even-here-a-year-ago coaches trying to turn an old-school Western barn into a show stable.
Laney, though, hasn’t received the memo that she shouldn’t look a gift horse like mine in the mouth. That the...