Jason nodded, more eager than anything to start running. John turned Stoner’s head toward the center of the corral and unhooked the leader.
Jason held the reigns in both hands, still holding the saddle horn just in case. Instinctively swinging his feet front to back, he said, “Come on, Stoner.”
The horse didn’t budge.
“Not like that, Jason. Just lift both legs straight out and let them fall.”
Jason followed instruction.
Stoner lurched forward with awesome power, trotting around the corral.
Jason’s legs went stiff and he froze, still holding onto the horn.
The horse’s back rose but Jason’s butt dropped. He landed hard against the seat, his feet left the stirrups and Jason went sideways.
The ground rushed toward Jason and he held out both hands, not strong enough. He crunched headfirst into soft sand.
“What happened?” He sat up and brushed sand from his face and hair. He jumped up.
Stoner stood right there in front of him, looking into him. He looked like he wondered what happened, too.
“You okay?” John brushed Jason’s back.
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, get back up there.” John climbed up and sat on the corral fence. No more help from him.
Jason led Stoner back to his stepladder.
BY LATE AFTERNOON, Jason figured he’d learned everything he needed to know about riding and caring for horses. John had even shown him how to brush Stoner down. Tomorrow, they’d clean the loft and tack room and give both horses baths. There’d probably be a lot more spiders up in that loft. Jason didn't like spiders.
John took a final look around the barn and closed the side door. He strained under the weight of the heavy bar and dropped it into cradles in the thick stone wall, solidly securing the door. “Be sure you secure this place. We’ve got some pretty wild things up here. We don’t want anything getting in here after your horses.”
They walked outside and John closed the main door. He locked it and set the key in the high cubbyhole, way too high. “John, how can me or Mom reach that?”
“I’ll find something to put here by the door.”
Jason followed John toward the house, the sun already low over the western rim of the valley.
Willis now worked on the front of the new door, Barnabas right there watching. He’d already built and hung their new door before lunch.
Willis waited for Jason to climb onto the porch. “If you can find your mother, I can show you both how this works.”
“Wow.” Willis had spent the whole afternoon chiseling an elaborate, geometric pattern into their new front door, not sure what, maybe flying birds. “That’s so cool.” He turned to thank John and say goodnight but John had already gone.
Jason rushed inside and found his mom in the kitchen. It was an awfully nice kitchen and it smelled good. “Hurry up, Mom. Willis needs to show us something.” She finished basting a roast, closed the oven door and followed him back across the living room and up the steps to the entry.
Willis turned the polished brass knob and opened the door. “This here’s a special order Baldwin latch. This door’s three inches thick. It’s mortised in so it’s good and solid. I set angle iron into the top and bottom of the door for overall strength and these hinge straps help keep it from sagging. Plus, I set some brass brads into the vertical tongue and groove with hot glue.”
The door hung on four long strap hinges made of steel, each supported by old looking steel hinge plates previously cemented into the stonework. Willis opened and closed the door a couple of times, showing how easily it worked and how snuggly it fit into the jamb. He picked up a heavy looking piece of wood and dropped the ends into stone cradles on both sides of the door. It was the same design as the side door in the barn, nice and solid. “This here will block any intruder. There’s a big prowler up here, likes to hunt by moonlight.” Willis looked at Jason. “Had your grandpa Kidro done this, he’d still be alive today. It took more than fifty years for the old door to give up to termites. He should have let me install another. Wish he had.” Willis lifted the bar down and leaned it in a corner near the door.
Mom said, “That looks very heavy, Willis. I’d think that Baldwin lock would be sufficient.” She turned the knob and opened the door.
“No, ma’am!” Willis seemed angry, looking at Mom like that. “No Baldwin latch will be enough up here. When the moon’s up and bright, you lift that bar into place at night.” He looked from Mom to Jason and back. “You and the boy lift it, if you can’t lift it alone.” He poked his thumb toward the wooden bar, an order, not a request.
Mom would never pick a fight. She looked at the outside surface of the door, the chiseled birds. “Willis, this is beautiful.” She ran her fingers over the carving and looked more closely. “Are these birds?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Willis looked down at the floor, shifting his weight like he was shy to answer. “It’s nice of you to notice. They’re meadowlarks.”
“Yes.” She said it kind of absent, still looking at the door like she wanted to say more. “You need to let us pay you something. You’ve worked here for two whole days and never even eaten lunch.”
“No, ma’am.” Willis shook his head and held up his hand, not a chance. He smiled at Mom. “Tell you what.” He looked at Jason. “You ever been fishing?”
Chapter Nine
Jason woke up early, still dark outside. He couldn’t wait.
Mom was always late anyway. She finally opened the door to his bedroom, wearing her bathrobe, surprised to see Jason up and dressed. “Did you brush your teeth?”
“Course.” He pushed past her, hurried downstairs and turned on the
