“Now what?” asked Ivy as she buried her head inside her rough, dirty hands. “This is impossible!”  The burning hot sun made beads of shiny sweat drop down her chin.   The dusty ground swirled around her feet.  “I cannot go under or around the cacti field…but I can go over it!”  “That, pardner, is one great idea,” Ivy’s friend, Karen, praised while she groomed her horse, Saffron’s, hazel colored mane.  “I am sure our horses can leap over the cacti,  they sure do have some long feet.” Karen straightened her horse’s leather saddle…