Horse Trade

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Horse Trade Page 9

by Bonnie Bryant


  “How did you know?” Stevie said, looking at her with amazement.

  “Know what?” said Carole, realizing that there was something going on that she didn’t understand.

  “That my parents bought me No-Name,” Stevie said.

  Lisa and Carole jumped, shrieking with joy, and put their arms around Stevie.

  “I can’t believe it,” Lisa exclaimed. “I’m so happy.”

  “No-Name is the horse for you,” Carole added. “You’re perfect for each other.”

  “So tell us everything,” Lisa said.

  “I don’t think I deserve her,” Stevie said sadly.

  “Come on, Stevie,” Carole said. “You know you’ve been dying to have your own horse, and you know that No-Name is just right for you.”

  Stevie flopped down on the pile of blankets and said, “I couldn’t believe it. My parents bought her as a surprise for me. And now”—Stevie took a deep breath—“the Marstens are driving her over in their van this afternoon. Max has a stall picked out for her. He’s even got a nameplate waiting for her—all I have to do is tell him her name.”

  “Unbelievable.” Carole sighed. “It’s as romantic as the way I got Starlight.”

  “That’s true,” Stevie said. Carole had gotten Starlight on Christmas Eve—talk about great Christmas presents!

  “So why aren’t you thrilled?” Carole said.

  Stevie looked glumly at them. “I was thrilled. But then I stayed up all night thinking about this. My parents are rewarding me for being responsible, but if I were really responsible, Hollie wouldn’t have gotten sick in the first place. I keep thinking that this is some kind of terrible trade—Hollie nearly dies and I get a horse.”

  Lisa stretched out her legs and looked at her boots. “I keep thinking of how Hollie showed me the ropes when I joined the company of Annie. She saved me from a lot of mistakes, so what did I do? I let her put herself in danger.”

  “The Saddle Club was not at its best,” Carole agreed. “I kept telling myself that I didn’t realize how dangerous allergies can be, but I knew.”

  “Great,” Stevie said, stretching out her legs so that she, too, was staring at her boots. Now all three members of The Saddle Club were staring dejectedly at their feet.

  “There’s only one thing to do, and that’s tell Hollie how sorry we are,” Stevie said. Slowly, she stood up. Slowly, Lisa and Carole stood up.

  They walked through the woods to Hollie’s house, and the walk, which usually would have been filled with horse talk and future plans, was silent and miserable.

  By the time they got to Hollie’s front door, they half expected Hollie’s mother to be angry at them. Instead, she smiled and said, “Ever since you called and said you’d be coming over, Hollie has been looking forward to it. She won’t be really well until she sees you.”

  They climbed the stairs to Hollie’s bedroom, which had white ruffled curtains at the window and a huge white comforter on the bed. Looking small and pale, Hollie was sitting up in bed.

  “I’m really sorry,” Stevie started. “I couldn’t sleep. It’s all my fault.”

  “I was supposed to look out for you,” Lisa said.

  But Hollie shook her head so hard, spots of color rose to her cheeks. “There are some things you can’t trade away,” she said firmly, “and one of those is responsibility for your own health. I knew I had allergies. I’m allergic to lots of things. I was allergic to the makeup in the show.”

  “That’s why you took it off so fast,” said Lisa, thinking back to Hollie in front of the makeup mirror.

  Hollie nodded. “I wanted to be in the play so much. Just like I wanted to ride with The Saddle Club.”

  “We knew you were allergic,” Stevie said in a low voice. “We figured it out and we didn’t do anything about it. That’s the thing we can’t forget.”

  But Hollie shook her head. “Allergies are the responsibility of the person who has them, Stevie.”

  “I don’t know,” Stevie said, looking totally unconvinced. “I still think we should have done something.”

  “Listen,” Hollie said, “do you know what can make a serious asthma attack even worse?”

  “Stress,” Stevie said.

  “That’s right,” Hollie replied. “And I was getting more and more tense. I could feel my lungs getting tighter and tighter until you started saying those really crazy things.”

  “Like what?” said Stevie, totally mystified.

  “You were yelling ‘Great shoulder-in’ or something like that.”

  Stevie felt her face grow red.

  “And you were yelling ‘What a countercanter,’ ” Hollie added. “When I heard you yelling all those nutty horse things, it helped keep my mind off the asthma attack.”

  “Really?” Stevie said.

  “It was so crazy,” Hollie went on. “You really saved me, Stevie. I was too focused on what you’d say next to get tense.”

  “Being a horse nut really has some advantages,” Carole said with a grin.

  “Thanks a million,” Stevie said, her face pink.“Actually, you know what this proves,” said Carole, standing and raising her finger, as if she were about to make a cosmically important point.

  Stevie, Lisa, and Hollie shook their heads.

  “That you can never be too crazy about horses,” Carole said.

  “Right!” Stevie and Lisa said together.

  There was a sudden silence as the Saddle Club members realized that this didn’t apply to Hollie. In fact, being horse crazy was dangerous for her.

  But Hollie shook her head. “I promised my mother not to do any more silly things, but my riding days may not be over. The doctors can try to desensitize me to horses by giving me small doses of horse allergen.”

  “A horse shot?” Stevie asked.

  “Something like that,” Hollie said. “And on top of that I can take premedication—that is, I can use an antihistamine and a bronchodilator whenever I know I’m going to be around horses.”

  “Sounds complicated,” Stevie said, looking worried again.

  “It is, and until we get everything worked out right, I’m going to have to stay away from the stable.”

  “But we won’t have to stay away from you,” Lisa said. “And your house is just a walk through the woods from Pine Hollow, so we’ll be seeing a lot of you.”

  “I hope,” Hollie said, “because I’ve got this brand-new concept. All we need is thirty horses—with the riders dressed in green and orange and purple, carrying torches. I’m thinking we could do it at night. It would be great with a rock-and-roll band … and then maybe a few clowns.”

  The members of The Saddle Club grinned at each other—Hollie was her old self again.

  “THEY’RE LOST,” Stevie said.

  “They can’t be lost,” Carole said. “They’ve been here a hundred times before.”

  “Then they were in an accident,” Stevie insisted.

  “They’re not even late,” Lisa said, looking at her watch.

  “Then your watch is broken,” Stevie said.

  Momentarily shaken, Lisa put her watch to her ear, because even to her it seemed as if the Marstens were taking unimaginably long.

  “No-Name has been kidnapped.…” Stevie began. But at this moment they heard the familiar sputtering cough of the Marstens’ car. And then from around the corner came the Marsten station wagon, pulling after it the Marsten red, white, brown, and rust horse trailer, which was even older than their station wagon.

  “No-Name,” Stevie whispered.

  The station wagon stopped and Phil jumped out of the passenger side. “Here she is,” he called.

  Stevie walked slowly toward the trailer, as if she were in a trance. And part of her did feel as if she were dreaming. “Is she all right?” she said to Phil. “Nothing happened on the way over?”

  “Stevie Lake,” Phil said with a grin, “you sound like a true horse owner. No-Name is fine.”

  Stevie unhooked the back of the horse tr
ailer. “It’s me, kid, no fancy stuff, now,” she said, knowing that some horses are driven absolutely crazy by a ride in a trailer.

  No-Name, however, seemed perfectly calm. Stevie slipped toward her head, saying, “I’ve got a surprise for you, and the surprise is”—she reached No-Name’s head—“me! You’re mine. I’m yours.” She put her nose next to No-Name’s nose, and they nuzzled each other.

  From the clanking in the rear Stevie could tell that Phil was getting the ramp in place. “Ready,” he called.

  “You’re going to like it here,” Stevie told the mare, backing her out gently. “Pine Hollow is the best spot on earth.” No-Name’s hind legs were on the ramp now, and her rear quarters were moving downward. This was a moment when a horse was likely to spook, but No-Name seemed perfectly calm, as if she’d done this a hundred times before.

  Near the rear of the trailer Carole and Lisa were holding up a sign that said:

  WELCOME NO-NAME

  Stevie had to laugh because this was one of the sillier signs she had ever seen. Then, without warning, the letters on the sign blurred. Stevie wiped the tears from her eyes. After so many months—actually years—and hoping and dreaming of a horse of her own, here she was. And No-Name was more beautiful, and more perfect, than Stevie had ever imagined.

  “I told your parents I’d get a picture of this,” said Mr. Marsten, climbing out of the front of the station wagon. He raised his camera and managed to catch Stevie at the exact moment she was wiping her eyes.

  “Come on over,” Stevie said, motioning to Lisa and Carole and Phil. “I want you all in a picture.”

  Phil stood on the other side of No-Name’s head, and Lisa and Carole held up the sign.

  “Say cheese,” said Mr. Marsten.

  They all made silly faces, and No-Name tossed her head at the moment of the photograph.

  “Let’s try again,” Mr. Marsten said, and all of a sudden they all settled into place, Stevie smiling from ear to ear,Phil smiling at her smile, Lisa and Carole looking at Stevie with pride, and No-Name, with her white exclamation point, looking as if she had been at Pine Hollow for all of her life.

  “Show me her stall,” Phil said after Mr. Marsten had taken a few more pictures.

  “It’s in the exclusive district,” Stevie said. “Next stall to Starlight.”

  “That is the exclusive district,” Phil agreed.

  “An empty nameplate,” Phil commented as he looked at the blank brass plate next to the stall. “You’ll have to fill it soon.”

  “The wheels are turning already,” Stevie said. She led No-Name into the stall and checked, for perhaps the tenth time, to make sure that there was water in the bucket and hay in the bag. She heard the stall door close behind her, and there was Phil.

  “The minute I saw you two together, I knew you were right for each other,” he said.

  “You think so?” Stevie said, sighing, because she had the same feeling. “I feel like No-Name and I will be together forever.”

  “I know that feeling,” Phil said, stepping toward her. He put his hand on Stevie’s shoulder, and he was leaning toward her, his eyes half-closed.

  As Stevie leaned in for a kiss, she felt something bite her backside. This wasn’t a nibble. It was a genuine bite. “Hey!” she yelled. Phil’s eyes popped open with surprise.

  Stevie turned to look and remembered that she’d put an apple for No-Name in her back pocket, and now No-Name was trying to get it out by herself.

  Stevie dug the apple out of her pocket, put it on her palm, and extended it to No-Name, fingers straight. “Sorry, kid,” she said to her, and then over her shoulder to Phil, “I’m really sorry about that.”

  Outside a horn sounded, and Phil said, “My dad’s waiting. I’ve got to go.”

  Stevie gave him a rueful smile and said, “Another ‘Almost,’ I guess.”

  The horn sounded again, and Phil let himself out through the stall door.

  A minute later Lisa and Carole appeared with tack for No-Name. “Max said we can show No-Name around,” Carole said. “Starlight is going to introduce her to the trails.”

  “My own horse,” Stevie said dreamily. “I can’t believe it. Last Friday it wasn’t even a possibility, and now No-Name and I are together.”

  There was a snort behind her, and Stevie turned to see that No-Name looked definitely annoyed about something.

  “What?” Stevie said, turning toward her. “What?”

  “I think she wants you to stop talking,” Lisa said.

  “I think she wants to get out on the trail,” Carole said, handing Stevie the bridle.

  Stevie rubbed No-Name’s exclamation point lovingly, held up the bridle so No-Name could see it, and then slipped it gently into her mouth and then over her ears. As she fastened the chin strap, No-Name was nodding her head, ready to go.

  “Let’s hit that trail, No-Name.”

  All of Stevie’s worries were gone. This was the best day of her life, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. She couldn’t wait to get out on that trail.

  “Just one thing, No-Name,” she said as she hoisted the saddle and blanket onto her back. “Don’t even think about weeds.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BONNIE BRYANT is the author of more than a hundred books about horses, including The Saddle Club series, Saddle Club Super Editions, the Pony Tails series, and Pine Hollow, which follows the Saddle Club girls into their teens. She has also written novels and movie novelizations under her married name, B. B. Hiller.

  Ms. Bryant began writing The Saddle Club in 1986. Although she had done some riding before that, she intensified her studies then and found herself learning right along with her characters Stevie, Carole, and Lisa. She claims that they are all much better riders than she is.

  Ms. Bryant was born and raised in New York City. She still lives there, in Greenwich Village, with her two sons.

 

 

 


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