Cross Country for Two

By M. Ruth Moore

What happens when two teen-aged girls decide to cross the vast country of Canada by horseback? Cross Country for Two tracks the unexpected adventures and romance that Brenda and Robbie encounter as they make their way from Nova Scotia to the Pacific Ocean.

You will feel the excitement of what happens when people step out of their comfort zone as the girls face several challenges along the roads. You will grow to love the heroines, as well as their horses, as you see how they persevere during th

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781628382648

Book preview

Cross Country For Two

M. Ruth Moore

Copyright © 2014 M. Ruth Moore

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2014

ISBN 978-1-62838-263-1 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-62838-264-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

About the Author

It all started with a penpal…

CHAPTER I

It was a sunny Sunday afternoon. Small children were outside playing. People sat on their front lawns or rode bikes up and down the streets.

Brenda sat looking at a horse magazine. Her friend Janet had gone with her family on their summer holidays. Brenda was a tall girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was thirteen years old. At that moment, her eyes lit up as she gazed down at a list of penpals.

I could get a penpal. At least it would give me something to do. She looked down at the list and her eyes came to rest on an address from Canada. She ran into the house.

Mom, would you let me write to a penpal in Canada? Her mother paused and looked at her. She was a tall lady with light colored hair and green eyes.

I suppose you could… she started.

Thanks, Mom.

Her mother gasped, then chuckled.

Brenda ran upstairs and started to write to her new penpal. Her name was Roberta Shatner and she lived in Antigonish, Nova Scotia.

About three days later, Roberta received a letter from Portland, Maine. She opened it and found it was from a Brenda Fleming. As she read on she discovered that Brenda, too, had a keen interest in horses.

Roberta wrote back and told Brenda about herself. Roberta was of medium height with dark brown eyes and hair. She was twelve years old.

The girls wrote back and forth and became good friends, though they never met face to face.

One day Roberta phoned Brenda. After the initial surprise of hearing from her, Brenda asked the purpose of the call.

What do you think about going across Canada by horseback? asked Roberta.

Brenda thought that going across Canada was okay, but by horseback?

Are you kidding?

No! I really mean it. I want to know what you think.

Well…ah, I suppose it would be okay if someone really wanted to do it.

I mean us.

You must be kidding?

The two girls talked back and forth like this until Roberta finally won her over. They asked their parents.

Brenda’s brother, David, thought she was nuts. Brenda’s parents were hard to talk to, but they finally agreed to it on the condition that she wait until she was older and able to afford it.

Roberta’s parents already knew about her plans and consented easily.

Now came the task of saving for it. Both girls worked hard in school to get good grades. They sent for information of camps and farriers along the route they would take. They also needed the right horses to take.

Roberta had her horses already. Brenda had one horse but she needed another. She looked and searched for the right horse, but there weren’t any of the right kind around Portland.

Finally, she had a break. Her father had to go to Colombia in South America for a business trip.

Dad, would you let me go with you so I could look for a horse?

I don’t think so, honey. I could look for you, though. Well, I just hope it’s not another Conrad. Why, that horse must consume almost $30 a day.

No! I don’t want another Conrad. I want a mare. A nice-mannered, small but strong mare.

Well, happy hunting dear. That’s a tough set of points to find.

But Dad, if you’d only let me go…

No, dear, you can’t. I’ll look while I’m there, but you going is out of the question.

Brenda had to give up and wait until her father returned. Meanwhile, she looked for her gelding, Conrad, who was kept at a local stable. He was a tall, part-thoroughbred hunter bay with black on his ears and muzzle. He had strong, sturdy legs and a wide back. If Brenda could get a mare, Conrad would be her packhorse.

Roberta had her two horses already, and right now she had to feed them. They were in the stable behind the house. She ran out and trotted down the short path leading to the stable. She closed the door quickly behind her, and the smell of horses and hay reached her. She gathered two buckets, put oats in them, and walked to one stall.

Cherokee, a paint mare, greeted her with a snort and laid back her ears.

Oh stop it, you spoiled critter.

Cherokee snorted again and backed away.

In one of your moods are you?

Roberta set down the bucket and walked out. In the next stall, a head peered around the corner at her.

At the sight of her, a small bay gelding with a white blaze stepped forward. Eisenhower was a strong little horse, but a thrifty eater, much to Roberta’s relief.

Hi, Eisenhower!

The small bay whinnied and nuzzled her shoulder. She set down his bucket and scratched his neck affectionately.

Boy, I must say you’re in a bit better of a mood than Miss Cherokee next door.

At the sound of her name, Cherokee answered with another snort.

Oh be quiet. Come on, Eisenhower, eat up. You’ll need all the strength you can get.

Back at Brenda’s place, her father returned home from Colombia. Brenda greeted her father with an excited question.

Dad, did you see a mare?

Well, dear, I talked to an old cattle rancher in Neiva and he told me he had just sold a string of horses to a man in Massachusetts.

Well what good is that?

Now wait a minute. If you want me to tell you I will, if not, I won’t. Now what will it be?

All right, tell me.