Summer of the Dancing Horse

By Nancy Sanderson

Its summer, and sixteen-year-old Maria Leon is delighted to be back home at Rancho Las Brisas in Baja California no school, no schedules, just long rides in the Mexican hills on her Andalusian stallion, Regalo. When she finds her horse gone, her whole world is turned upside-down in an instant.

Nick, the ranch foreman, tells her, Your uncle Roberto has taken all the show horses to California to sell them.

But Regalo is mine. Grandfather gave him to me at Christmas just before he died, she cries, staring in dismay at all the empty corrals. There must be some mistake.

Broken-hearted, but determined, Maria vows to go to Southern California and get her horse back before her uncle has a chance to sell him.

Will she find her horse? Can she stop the sale of the dancing stallion? Join Maria and her three new American friends as they try to find Regalo. And learn, with Maria, the secret of her parents mysterious deaths in California.

Once again, award-winning author, Nancy Sanderson, has written an intriguing story about her favorite subject, girls and their horses. In Summer of the Dancing Horse, Sanderson brings together the girls from her previous three books to help their new friend, Maria, rescue her horse. Readers will enjoy getting reacquainted with old friends and meeting new ones in this exciting story of horses, heartbreak and hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 13, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452068923

Nancy Sanderson

Nancy Sanderson has written five books about girls and their horses: Summer of the Spanish Horse; Summer of the Spotted Horse; Summer of the Painted Horse; Summer of the Dancing Horse and Horse of the Four Winds. Summer of the Painted Horse won first prize for Children’s Literature in the 2010 Arizona Author’s Association Literary Competition, and Summer of the Spotted Horse took third prize in the 2005 contest. While each book is an independent story, there are many recurring people and places throughout the “Summer Horse” series. Currently working on book six, Sanderson lives in Yuma, Arizona, with her husband, Tom, her Aunt Kelly and a rescued black Miniature Poodle named Polly.

Book preview

© 2010 Nancy Sanderson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 9/27/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-6892-3 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-6891-6 (sc)

Printed in the United States of America

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

For Kelly and Tom

With Love

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Chapter I

My Horse is Gone!

Chapter II

The Journey Begins

Chapter III

Crossing the Border

Chapter IV

Las Palmas At Last

Chapter V

Maria’s Story

Chapter VI

Someone’s Watching…

Chapter VII

A Family Reunited

Chapter VIII

Conspirators at Work

Chapter IX

Aw, Come on, Rudy, Please?

Chapter X

Rancho Andaluz

Chapter XI

Another Reunion

Chapter XII

New Beginnings

Chapter XIII

Festival of the Spanish Horse

Chapter XIV

Rancho Las Brisas

Chapter XV

The Last Reunion

Chapter XVI

Two Boys from Peru

Glossary

Author’s Note

Here is a wonderful new story about a girl and her Andalusian horse. Since the story begins in Mexico, I have included many everyday Spanish words and phrases for you to enjoy. The glossary in the back of the book will tell the meanings, but many of these words you will already know. They are in common use in the United States. You will find other Spanish words that are called cognates because they look very much like English words. You can usually guess the meanings.

Just remember that in Spanish the letter a is pronounced like the a in father. The letter h is silent, and the letter j is pronounced like the English h. When we laugh, we say, ha, ha, ha. When Spanish speakers laugh, they say, ja, ja, ja, but it sounds the same. The girl in our story is Maria Leon. Her last name is pronounced lay-own, and it means lion just like it sounds.

Just think, when you have read this story, you can dazzle your parents and your teachers with your knowledge of a wonderful new language. Enjoy!

Nancy Sanderson

Yuma, Arizona 2010

Chapter I

My Horse is Gone!

Maria Luisa Leon opened her eyes and looked around the big bedroom in her grandfather’s ranch house in Mexico. In the tree outside her window, tiny sparrows were greeting each other like a group of happy kindergartners on the first day of school. Off in the distance, a dog barked. Or was it a coyote?

She giggled. One of the vaqueros was cussing right under her window and another voice quickly hushed him. Since she had turned sixteen, the cowboys had been watching their language and treating her like a young lady. It was nice in a way, but sometimes she missed the old camaraderie she had always shared with them.

Watching the warm breeze ruffle the lacy curtains on the open window, Maria took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scents of Rancho Las Brisas. She smelled the roses that climbed the house outside her window, and she smelled fresh tortillas frying downstairs in the kitchen.

It would be a magical day, as the first day of vacation always was. It is summer, and I am here at last. Now I can spend every day riding Regalo. I am the luckiest girl in the whole world!"

With a big grin, she threw aside the covers that had kept her warm in the cool Baja California night and dangled her bare feet over the side of the high four-poster bed. Glancing around at all the familiar things she loved, she smiled again. It was good to be home, no school, no schedule and all summer to be free of rules and routines. Almost free, that is. She had her chores just like everyone else at the ranch. Tick-tick - the Mickey Mouse clock on her nightstand reminded her of those chores. It was almost seven and she had horses to feed.

Rummaging through her dresser drawers, she pulled out an old pair of clean boot-cut Levis and a yellow t-shirt with a prancing horse sketched on the front. She threw off her lace-trimmed nightgown, donned clean undies and slipped the shirt over her head. When she pulled up the jeans, she found they were almost an inch shorter than the last time she had worn them. I must be getting taller. Oh how I want to be tall and slim. At five-foot two inches, she was taller than some of her friends, but Maria wanted to be really tall like one of the girls in the American movies and magazines she loved so well.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth and fastened her thick, dark brown hair into a single braid. Humming softly, she made her bed, folded her nightgown under a pillow and skipped out of the room. Her heart was singing at the thought of riding Regalo, her gray Andalusian stallion. Oh, I have missed my horse so much. It will be so good to see him again. I will pet his silky nose and brush his long mane, and he will be happy to see me too. We will ride all day long in the hills.

She started to run down the stairs, but as always, she couldn’t resist the horse photos that lined the wall. There was Grandfather with Galante and Principe, and there was little Maria at her first horse show. She was holding a ribbon almost as long as she was tall. Maria stepped down a stair and looked at the picture of Grandfather and Galante with a huge silver cup they had won in Mexico City. She grinned. The award sat in a place of honor in the Leon trophy case down in the library. Showing the dancing horses had been so much fun.

Regalo’s picture was next. She kissed her fingertip, planted the kiss on his nose and skipped on down the stairs.

"Hola, querida!" Elena, their housekeeper, greeted her with a hug and a kiss. Maria smiled at the old woman who had been nanny to two generations of Leons. Elena was dressed in a bright yellow dress embroidered with beautiful red and blue flowers, and her gray hair was neatly fashioned into a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a turquoise and silver cross with earrings to match. Maria didn’t know exactly how old Elena was, but she had been at Rancho Las Brisas all of Maria’s life. Her many wrinkles, Maria was sure, came from smiling.

"Huevos rancheros, querida, the older woman said with a laugh. Ranch style eggs, just the way you like them."

Oh, Elena, Maria said, sitting down at the long wooden table. I have been dying for a taste of your home cooking. Those cooks at boarding school just do not have your talent in the kitchen.

So much flattery, Elena pretended to scold. That will not get you anything. Slipping several strips of dough into a kettle of hot oil, she added with a grin, "Except some nice fresh churros." She knew Maria loved these Mexican sweets that were deep fried and tasted like American donuts.

"Um, churros. I can hardly wait."

Maria enjoyed her home-cooked meal, but she was thinking more of her horse than of food. She finished quickly and gave Elena a light kiss on the cheek. I will see you later, she called, grabbing a battered baseball cap off a hook near the door. I must hurry out to see my horse.

Maria, wait! the old woman cried, but the girl was gone like a small whirlwind, slamming the door behind her.

She raced down the small hill toward the barns and corrals. Her horse would be waiting for her in the first corral. She had named him Regalo, the Spanish word for gift, because her grandfather had given the horse to her the day the foal was born. As the colt grew, she trained him to lead, to stand tied and to have his hoofs trimmed. She was delighted at how quickly Regalo learned all the other things a well-behaved young Andalusian horse needed to know. It was a labor of pure love on her part, never a chore. And with his sunny disposition, Regalo enjoyed the training too.

Thinking of her grandfather still made her sad. I cannot believe Grandfather is gone. She remembered how shocked she had been when he died of a sudden heart attack five months ago. And Abuela, Grandmother, was still so sad. She dressed all in black and hardly said a word to anyone. She just sat upstairs in her room, looking out the window, her little black and tan Chihuahua on her lap.

When Maria had arrived home the night before, her grandmother kissed her in welcome, but there was little gladness in her eyes. I must remember to sit with Abuela this afternoon when I am done riding. She must not be sad forever.

As she neared the barn, she saw Nick, their Yankee ranch hand, working on the hoofs of his old bay Quarter mare. "Hola, mija," he called, trying not to lose the horseshoe nails he held clenched in his teeth. He called her mi hija, the Spanish words for my daughter, but he rolled the two words into one, mija.

I will see you later, Nick, she answered in English and sped on by him. I want to ride my horse.

Maria, wait! he called, spitting the nails out on the ground. Fleet as a doe, Maria just kept running to the back of the barn. There she would find her horse. She was excited and happy, but when she reached Regalo’s corral, her excitement turned to dismay. It was empty!

She looked around. All of the corrals were empty. Where were their Andalusians, their dancing horses? Not a single one was in sight. They must have moved them to one of the pastures up in the mountains. I will ask Nick where they are.

She almost slammed into the tall ranch hand as she sped around to the front of the barn.

Hold on, girl, Nick said. Slow down. He caught her arm.

Nick, she gasped, trying to catch her breath. Where are the horses? I cannot see them anywhere. Are they up in one of the pastures? She spoke to him in the English he had been teaching her since she was a toddler. To everyone else, she spoke Spanish.

He put his arm around the girl who was like a daughter to him. Maria, he began, the Andalusians are not here on the ranch. The only horses we have left are the ones the ranch hands are riding up in the hills and that old mare of mine who wears her shoes out faster than a little kid.

What? she almost shouted.

Your uncle has taken the show horses to California to sell them.

Impossible! she screamed, shaking loose from his arm. She backed away in disbelief and horror. Her head was spinning, and the ground beneath her feet felt unsteady like in an earthquake. Sell the dancing horses? This cannot be true. There must be some mistake.

I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, he continued. Maria stood there numb with shock. Your uncle wants Rancho Las Brisas to be a cattle ranch again like in his grandfather’s day.

No! No! the girl shouted, blinking back tears of dispair. "He cannot do