Hoofbeats on the Trail Read online

  © 2002 by Mark Littleton

  Published by Baker Books

  a division of Baker Publishing Group

  P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

  www.bakerbooks.com

  Ebook edition created 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-4401-7

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Cast of Characters

  1. A Crossing of Evergreens

  2. Invaders

  3. Games and Something More

  4. Visitors

  5. The Man in the Woods

  6. Music Extraordinaire

  7. Going for a Ride

  8. The Carnival Contest

  9. The Mystery at the Tree Fort

  10. Hound Dog

  11. Caught Red-Handed

  12. The Call

  13. A Meeting of the Hearts

  14. Clicking

  15. In the Jaws of the Trap

  16. A Little Fun

  17. A Clever Story

  18. Missing in Action

  19. At the Farm

  20. Disaster

  21. Double Disaster

  22. Back

  About the Author

  Cast of Characters

  Ally O’ Connor: A fun-spirited, fourteen-year-old eighth grader with a zest for life and a love of horses.

  Nick Parker: Ally’s tall, blond, teasing friend, also fourteen and an eighth grader, who has an obvious crush on Ally.

  Jeff Reynolds: A boy Ally’s age who has jet-black hair and talks and behaves at times like a Southern gent right out of Gone with the Wind, or a medieval-knight wannabe.

  Nestor Coombs, known as “Coombsie”: A friend of Jeff’s who lives in the woods. He has a long gray beard and twinkly green eyes, and he wears clothes made out of deerskin and smokes a pipe. He loves to tell stories, and is an amazing violinist.

  Barbara “Babs” Kruck: Jeff’s aunt (the sister of Jeff’s absent father); she is single, tall, thin, and attractive.

  Molly Parker: Nick’s earnest little sister, an eleven-year-old blonde, with freckles and a pure heart.

  Mrs. O’Connor: Ally’s mom, who has the same blue eyes and auburn hair as her daughter.

  Mr. O’Connor: Ally’s father, a tall, lean man with bright green eyes and a walruslike mustache.

  Mrs. Hanson: An elderly woman with rosy cheeks and a friendly air. She has a horse farm.

  Snowbird: One of Mrs. Hanson’s horses that Ally has ridden.

  Thunder: A stallion at the Hanson horse farm.

  Lucky: The horse Nick rides from the Hanson farm.

  Mr. Bell: A man in the neighborhood who tells the O’Connors of rental homes that are being broken into and trashed.

  One

  A Crossing of Evergreens

  Ally O’Connor and her friend Nick Parker stepped onto the dirt road. Its center was covered with a down of grass, but it looked well-traveled.

  “It’s just up a ways,” Ally said, peering through the trees. Ally had discovered a horse farm less than a mile from her home. The Hanson family ran it, and Ally had already ridden one of the horses, Snowbird.

  “C’mon, Nick.” Ally, impatient, started down the road. “It’s the coolest place. They’ll let us ride anytime. They need to exercise the horses a lot, and they just don’t have the people to do it.”

  “Just what I always wanted to do,” Nick said. “Exercise horses.”

  “Oh, don’t be a foof. Wait till you see Thunder. He’s the most beautiful horse I ever saw.”

  “Even better than the wild mustangs at Corolla?”

  “Those were pretty special,” Ally said, her eyes twinkling as she remembered their adventure to save the wild horses around their vacation home. “But this is a horse for riding—and you know how I love to ride.”

  “The queen of horsewomen, that’s you.” Nick scrunched his spiky blond hair and plodded after Ally.

  “You know, you could smile a little,” she chastised, half-teasing. “It wouldn’t hurt your face.”

  “I don’t like the idea of climbing up on a big horse and then being pitched off into the dirt.”

  “Oh, you know how to ride,” Ally said, pushing back her own auburn hair. She grinned and patted Nick on the shoulder. “You just have to learn some of the more advanced things, like galloping without your hand on the pommel. Anyway, I’m a pro. I’ll teach you everything.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Nick feigned deep gratitude. “I guess we’ll have to shovel out the stalls and everything. Maybe even find an ancient jewel in the horse dung, is that it?”

  “Oh, it won’t be that bad. Anyway, you like the smell, don’t you?”

  “Ha, ha. Will you quit with the jokes!”

  “Okay, fella, in a little mood today, aren’t you?” Ally teased.

  “I keep thinking it’s over four hundred days before I can take you out on our first date.”

  “Remember that Jacob loved Rachel so much that seven years seemed like a day.”

  Nick laughed. “I don’t love you that much.”

  “Really now?” Ally struck a model’s pose. “You don’t think I’m beautiful enough?”

  “You’re beautiful enough. But I don’t want to wait four hundred days or seven years.”

  “So think of today as a date.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

  The road curved to the left up ahead. Ally was trying to see beyond it when she heard the pounding of hooves. She stopped. “Someone’s coming!”

  Nick glanced to his right and left as if to find a hiding place.

  Seconds later, a horse came into view with a rider who appeared to be Nick and Ally’s age, fourteen or so. He thundered toward them, grabbing a branch of a pine tree. He broke it off and headed straight toward Ally and Nick. Nick jumped from the path to the side of the road, tugging Ally with him.

  The rider pulled up his horse fast, then with a grandiose gesture said, “Welcome to the neighborhood.” With a huge grin, he handed Ally the sprig of pine. “For you, milady.”

  Ally twirled the sprig between her fingers, unsure of this boy whose jet-black hair shone in the afternoon sunlight. “Uh, thanks,” she stammered.

  “Sorry, nothing for you,” the boy said to Nick.

  “Fine with me,” Nick said. “But who—”

  Before he could finish the question, the rider kicked the brown thoroughbred’s flank. “Away!” he cried. The horse reared and then dashed forward, disappearing around a bend.

  Ally was speechless, but Nick said, “Looks like you have an admirer.”

  “Who on earth is he?” Ally finally exclaimed, giving the sprig a sniff, then stuffing it into her shirt pocket, where a piece of it stuck out like the head of a small green doll.

  “What’s up with the twig? Is that supposed to be a present or something?” Nick said with a snort.

  “Oh, be quiet. You never gave me a flower, let alone a freshly plucked plume of pine.”

  “Hey, good alliteration!” Nick noticed. “We learned about using words that start with the same letter in English last year.”

  “I learned about it from Mom five years ago.”

  “That’s because she’s a writer.”

  “As I will be one day, in addition to an artist and an equestrian giant among wome
n.”

  “You’re going to be a giant? I’d love to see that. Which will be longer, your legs or your arms?”

  Ally gave him a look of mock disgust. “I think you need to go to your cave, Nick.”

  “I don’t have a cave.”

  “We’ll find you one.”

  Nick laughed as Ally shook her head and turned to walk on. “We’ll get to the bottom of this mysterious horseman in a few minutes. That was one of Mrs. Hanson’s horses, I’m sure of it.”

  Breaking into a jog, Ally and Nick rounded the bend and saw the farmhouse up ahead. In another minute, they stood at the front door.

  Mrs. Hanson, an elderly woman with rosy cheeks and a friendly air, answered. “Back so soon, Ally?” she asked.

  “We just wanted to go riding,” Ally said. “This is my friend, Nick Parker. I’d like to teach him some of the basics. And exercise the horses, of course.”

  “They do need it.”

  Behind her, Ally heard the clattering of hooves. She turned to see the mysterious boy on the brown thoroughbred.

  “Oh, have you met our new stable hand?” Mrs. Hanson said.

  Ally’s eyes narrowed. “Sort of.”

  “He fancies himself a knight in shining armor, I think,” Mrs. Hanson said, her eyes bright. “We just hired him. He lives down the road.”

  “What’s his name?”

  The boy and the horse disappeared into the barn. Mrs. Hanson said, “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  She stepped off the porch of the farmhouse and led Ally and Nick back to the barn. There they found Jeff unsaddling the thoroughbred and cooling him down.

  “Jeff,” Mrs. Hanson said. “This is Ally O’Connor and her friend. What did you say your name was, son?”

  “Nick. Nick Parker,” Nick replied.

  “Well, Jeff, this is your lucky day. You won’t have to give all the horses some exercise, since these two will help you out. And I don’t have to pay them a dime. Ally, Nick, this is Jeff Reynolds.”

  Jeff wiped off his hands and stepped forward. He was a bit taller than Ally, slim and sharp-nosed. Ally could tell Nick was jealous, so she decided to forget about the sprig of pine and be on her best behavior.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Ally said, shaking Jeff’s hand.

  Jeff bowed slightly, as if he’d just stepped out of Gone with the Wind. “I think I’ve seen you before,” he said. “Was it holding a piece of pine bough?”

  Nick stuck out his hand. “I’m Nick. Glad to meet you.”

  Jeff took Nick’s hand and shook it vigorously.

  “Hey,” Nick said, pulling back. “I’m not a washing machine.”

  “Sorry,” Jeff said. “I get enthusiastic sometimes.”

  “We’ll be glad to exercise a couple of the horses, Mrs. Hanson,” Ally said. “I’d like to take Snowbird if he hasn’t been exercised yet. Who should we give to Nick?”

  “I’d say Blackberry,” Jeff interjected.

  Ally eyed him. “I was asking Mrs. Hanson.”

  Jeff’s face went red, and he turned to continue brushing down the tall thoroughbred. But Nick grinned as if he’d just won a victory.

  Mrs. Hanson walked to the stall across from the thoroughbred’s. “I’d say Lucky should be pretty easy on him.”

  “Thanks,” Ally said. “Let me show him how to blanket and saddle the horses, and we’ll get going.”

  “I’ll be glad to help,” Jeff said from his stall.

  “We’ll be fine,” Ally said, suddenly not sure why she was acting as if she didn’t like Jeff. Maybe it was the whole pine tree thing. She wasn’t looking for some knight in shining armor, after all.

  But she couldn’t deny that there was something about him that she liked.

  Suddenly, she felt Nick’s eyes on her. “We’ll be fine,” Ally said again, then glanced at Jeff. The boy was watching her over the top rail of the stall. Oh well, she thought. I’m only fourteen. I can’t date till I’m sixteen.

  She wasn’t going to think about any boy till then.

  Two

  Invaders

  Mrs. O’Connor met Nick and Ally at the door that night. “Have you heard anything about houses being broken into in the area?” she asked.

  “No,” Ally said and glanced at Nick. He shook his head. “What happened?”

  “Well, we’ll find out in about five minutes,” Mrs. O’Connor said, turning to the dinner cooking on the stove. The doorbell rang and over her shoulder she asked Ally, “Would you get that?”

  Ally was already there. A well-dressed man with a mustache and bright blue eyes peered inside. “Hi, I’m Mr. Bell,” he said. “Is your mom here? I phoned her a few minutes ago to let her know I was on my way.”

  Nick excused himself to head home for his own dinner as Mr. Bell joined the O’Connors in the living room.

  Ally’s mom and dad sat down beside her on their big leather couch as Mr. Bell took the easy chair opposite. “It’s really very simple,” he said. “Some rentals down the street have been broken into and busted up. We think it might be a kid, or maybe several kids.”

  “What makes you think it’s kids?” Mr. O’Conner asked.

  “Well, they’re stealing mainly electronic equipment. But the worst thing is that they’re tearing up the houses inside—pure, plain vandalism for no reason we can figure.”

  Mr. O’Connor unknotted his tie. “Do you think our place is in danger?”

  “I suppose anyone’s is,” Mr. Bell mused, frowning. “Whoever’s doing this is watching the houses rather carefully, and they’re hitting up places when the residents are out of town.”

  “You said rentals?” Mrs. O’Connor asked.

  “Yes.” Mr. Bell cleared his throat. “Well, so far all of the houses broken into have been rentals—mostly furnished rentals, so it’s not a loss so much for the people who are renting as people like me who own the places. Not an immediate cost, anyway. If this keeps up, we’re going to have to charge more for security.”

  “Do you think the robbers or whoever know they’re rentals?” Ally asked, her investigative skills clicking into full throb.

  “No.” Mr. Bell glanced around uncomfortably. “Rentals just happen to be the ones that have been hit. Maybe it’s because the rentals are vacant at times, between tenants. Two of them were hit when there were no renters living on the premises.”

  “Interesting,” Ally whispered to herself.

  “How so?” Mr. O’Connor asked, focusing intently on his daughter.

  “Nothing really, I guess,” Ally thought aloud. “Just kind of strange. I wouldn’t think rental furniture would be in that good of shape. Or the electronic equipment.”

  Mr. Bell nodded. “Can’t figure that one out.”

  “Aren’t the police involved?” Mrs. O’Connor said, standing. “I’ve got to check on the oven, so I’ll be going in a moment.”

  “I didn’t mean to stay long,” Mr. Bell said. “I just wanted to let you know what’s going on and to allay your fears. Don’t go out of town for a lengthy period of time is what I can suggest at this point. Are you going anywhere?”

  “Not for awhile,” Mr. O’Connor said.

  Mr. Bell got up. “Let me know—or the police—if you notice anything strange or any kids hanging around.” He held out his hand.

  Mr. O’Connor shook it, and Mrs. O’Connor thanked Mr. Bell and left the living room.

  “And your name?” Mr. Bell smiled as Ally held the door.

  “Ally.”

  “Nice name. I have a niece with that name. Well, good day.” Mr. Bell walked out the door, and Ally closed it behind him.

  “We’d better leave the lights on any nights we go out,” Mr. O’Connor told Ally.

  “And I’ll keep an eye out,” she answered, troubled.

  “First, though,” Mr. O’Connor said, knowing how his daughter could fret over things, “let’s eat.”

  The next afternoon, Ally stepped outside for a power walk, her latest way to build her stamina and dev
elop her leg muscles. She was well down the street when she heard the clopping of horse’s hooves on the macadam. She turned around. Jeff! How does he always sneak up like that?

  “Hey, want a ride?” he called.

  Since it was late summer, he wore just jeans, a shirt, and a baseball cap. He drew up next to Ally. “We could run through the fields on that farm down the street.”

  “Oh, the people that lived there were friends of mine,” Ally said, referring to her friend Sarah and her mom. “They had some problems, and the house burned down, along with the barn. No one lives there right now.”

  “I know,” Jeff said, grinning down at Ally. “It gives me a chance to run Snowbird here.” He held out his hand.

  Ally hesitated, then grabbed it, and Jeff pulled her up easily behind him. “You’re light,” he said.

  “All ninety pounds of me,” Ally answered.

  Ally got settled behind the western saddle and put her arms around Jeff’s waist.

  A moment later, Jeff kicked the big horse. “Heigh-ho!”

  Snowbird jolted into a trot, almost knocking Ally off. Her teeth seemed to rattle in her head. “Can you speed it up?” Ally said, leaning around Jeff. “I’m having my teeth fall out here.”

  Jeff grinned. “Sure.” He kicked the horse again and said, “Go, Snowbird!”

  Seconds later, they were cantering down the street past the rental houses. The afternoon breeze felt good on Ally’s face.

  “So where do you live, Jeff?” she called over the thundering of the hooves.

  “Across the bridge at the end of your street, on the other side of the development.”

  “What’s your dad do?”

  “I live with my aunt.”

  This revelation quieted Ally a moment as she mulled over what this might mean. She pushed back instinctive caution. “Where are your parents?” she ventured.

  “My mom’s dead. My dad is…not around. I live with my Aunt Barbara—she goes by Babs, but I call her Barbara. I can’t get used to Babs. It sounds weird to me.”

  Ally shifted her weight slightly to get into a better position. “Is your aunt your father’s sister?”

  “Yeah. She’s not married. Never has been. She’s a little strange.”