Hello wonderful amazing readers! It's been a while since I posted something, huh? :)
Don't know how long this one's going to be. It's unpredictable right now. I'll try to update frequently, and I PROMISE never to abandon this fanfic. I hate it when authors do that. It's just like "Please please update NO WHYYYYY!"
Anyhoo.
Frank: This is where there's supposed to be a disclaimer, right?
Joe: What are you talking about?
Frank: The person writing a fanfic about us is supposed to state that she doesn't own us. It's weird, I know. Anyway. Kind of obvious, but she doesn't own The Hardy Boys.
Joe: ...
Frank: We can keep going now.
Joe: I think you're officially off your rocker.
"Get-offa-me-you…!"
Nancy glanced up from tightening her horse's girth at the exclamation. Amused, she watched Frank trying to push Bart, the large draft horse, off of his foot.
"Ahaaah, AH! Cut it out!" he grimaced in pain, shoving. Slowly, Bart shifted his bodyweight off of the hoof planted firmly on the toe of Frank's boot. Pulling away, Frank sat down, groaning. "I don't think I'm exactly cut out for this sort of work. Could you please find me a nice tame gang of drug dealers or something?"
Laughing, Nancy swung into the saddle. "Negative. There seems to be a distinct lack of drug dealers around here." She smiled to herself, glad that she had been able to get the Hardys to come ride with her while in River Heights. They had gone to a local ranch, the owners of which Nancy knew well. The family had agreed to let her and the two brothers take a few of the horses out for a ride.
"Look, Hardy," she grinned, guiding Gypsy, her black mount, over beside Bart and grabbing his reins. "Stop whining and get on the pretty horsey. Nice horsey. See?" Nancy teased. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Joe riding up at a slow, lazy walk, looking like a natural on the palomino, Check.
"Frank! Get on already!" Joe called, trying to stop his horse. Check obstinately plowed into Gypsy's rear. She retaliated with a well-aimed kick with her left hind leg.
As Joe continued trying to figure out how his "steering wheel" worked, Nancy dismounted and studied how Frank was now approaching his mount.
"Frank. I… would not do that if I were you…"
"What am I doing wrong now?"
"Horses can't see behind them. You're setting yourself up for a nice kick, just like Joe's horse got over here."
"Why'd you tell him?" Joe complained. "I had my phone on video!"
As the three teen detectives headed out on the forest trail, a dark figure watched from the bushes. Then, after a moment of hesitation, quickly vanished into the shadows.