“STEVIE told Carole. She was ready. Everybody was ready. Everybody had passed Max’s inspection. Jackets were zipped, scarves wrapped. It was time to begin. Carole led the procession out the door of the stable, where each rider paused to touch the good-luck horseshoe. It was an automatic gesture, but one that had come to mean something special to all of Pine Hollow’s riders. Nobody who touched the horseshoe had ever been seriously hurt. Tonight, riding in the dark, it seemed especially important.... Max rolled the stable doors open and Carole, riding Pretty Boy, stepped out into the night. Max handed her the leader’s torch and they were ready. The trail wound through the fields and into the forest, circling the hills that rose behind Pine Hollow. All the way, it was marked by bright lanterns every ten yards or so, so there was no way they could get lost. Eventually, the trail would end up along a small back road that led to the center of town. It was about two miles to the town center along the winding trail they would follow, two wonderful miles of lamplit trail on a starry night.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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