Morning Star (cont'd)
By Horse Crazy Brianna 

Chapter Three:

"Don't worry, Girl.  Soon I'll give the Johnson family a price they can't laugh at!" I assured Star when I paused in mucking the stalls to talk to her.  It was Monday afternoon; the first day of my royal stall-mucking job.  

"Well, you're not going to do it by just standing there talking instead of doing your job," said a voice behind me.  

I knew without even turning around that it was Laurell.  Someone who I'd never met before was with her.  As I finished mucking out Star's stall, I saw Laurell peer into France's Fancy Lady, her high-strung, bay thoroughbred's, stall.  I had mentally nicknamed the horse Fancy. 

"Did you muck out Fancy Lady's stall?" Laurell demanded.  "It still looks dirty.  If you ask me, Daniel made a mistake hiring you.  You don't seem to be doing a very good job." 

I had to bite my lip to keep back a retort.  And it was a good thing that I wasn't too near Laurell; if I had been, she would have ended up face-first in a pile of muck.  The last thing I needed was to get fired. 

"I haven't gotten to her stall yet," I said.  "I've only been here for ten minutes.  So far, I've done Talley's and Star's stalls." 

"Talley's stall looks perfectly clean," said the girl who was with Laurell.  "Looks like you know what you're doing...uh..." 

"Lisa," I said, going toward Fancy's stall.  "Are you Talley's owner?"  The girl nodded. 

"I also own Firefly and Kenya.  My name's Sandra.  I hate my name, though.  Call me Sandy." 

I nodded as I went into Fancy's stall.  Laurell looked annoyed that her friend was talking to me, who she considered no- one but a stable hand.  I guess that I am, but I'm not like Cinderella. 

"Come on, Sandra," she said.  "Lisa doesn't need any distractions.  My horse's stall better be clean," she called back to me.  My face felt hot.  I hoped that I wasn't turning red.  My dad used to always tease me about that; he said he always knew when I was about to lose my temper, because my face turned red.  My dad.  I fought back the tears that threatened to spill out.  He was the only one who'd understood my love for horses.  He and my best friend, Carly.  Dad and Mom just didn't get along.  When Dad had left us, we'd left our horse farm in Oregon and left Carly, my best - and only - friend.  We'd left all our horses, even the one I'd loved best - Schatze.  My beautiful, black horse.  I didn't know if I felt angry at Dad, or if I just missed him.  Probably both.  But one thing was for certain; as soon as I made the money, I would look out my window and see Star in the paddock.

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