Very slowly, she placed the reins in her right hand and threw them gently over Bucky’s neck, the bridle in her left hand. Bucky pawed the ground uneasily. She spoke to him again. Easy, easy Nate figured she’d be telling him. / won’t hurt you, boy.

She had the bridle in her right hand now as she slid the bit in Bucky’s mouth. He shook his head vigorously, and for a moment Nate worried Bucky might rear up or even kick his sister. But she reached into her jeans pocket for a carrot, and as she fed it to him the pony even nuzzled Junie with his head.

Junie walked him over till he was standing alongside a large flat stone in the paddock. She stepped up onto the stone, slid her right leg over Bucky’s back, grabbed hold of his withers, and pulled herself up till she was seated, bareback. She sat up straight, as if she were a girl in a horse show, in some fancy ring. And before Nate could do anything, she had pulled the reins short in her hands. Crazy as he was, Bucky knew what a clucking sound meant from a rider: Go.

Nate knew he needed to act. His sister was doing this brave and crazy thing that a part of him wished he had the courage to attempt himself. He knew he should call her back, tell her no—the way a parent would—but the adventurer in him could only hold his breath and pray the pony wouldn’t throw her.

But when he saw them take off, good sense overcame him. He bolted down the stairs two at a time and jumped the last three, then dashed out the door. By the time he reached the yard, Junie and Bucky were on the gravel at an easy trot, and for a second Nate could have kidded himself into thinking that it wasn’t so dangerous after all, what his sister was doing. Junie had Bucky under control. It was the thing she’d always wanted: Finally, after all these months, she was getting to ride her pony.

But he also knew Bucky couldn’t be trusted. There was no telling when the pony might get spooked.

His mother’s Mercury was sitting in the yard. Nate opened the door and turned the key that his mom always left in the ignition. Very slowly, he pulled out onto the gravel driveway, far enough behind his sister that Bucky wouldn’t go nuts.

With Junie on his back, Bucky was trotting at a steady, ordered gait. Junie’s wispy brown hair blew in the wind. The air felt chilly with the sun just coming up, but it didn’t look as though Junie cared. She was heading west, toward the road, toward town.

“Warm Springs,” Nate said out loud. “She thinks she’s going to see Dad.”