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Full Gallop

Page 4

by Bonnie Bryant


  “Really?” Carole had never been that comfortable with the idea that Maureen smoked on the property, but she knew that Max had spoken to her about where he would and would not allow it, so she figured there wasn’t much she could say about it anymore. Besides, she couldn’t help being pleasantly surprised at the older stable hand’s offer—it wasn’t really like Maureen to be so generous. And if they hurried, she and Ben could still make it to the restaurant on time. Carole wasn’t about to look that gift horse in the mouth. “Thanks, Maureen. The stall’s all ready and everything—Ben even filled the water bucket—so all you’ll have to do is show her where it is and get her settled in.”

  “No prob,” Maureen assured her. She dug into her jeans pocket. “Now, if I can just find some matches—”

  “Hey,” Ben interrupted, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the front doors. “Did you hear that? Sounds like a truck.”

  Carole cocked her head. Sure enough, the growl of a large engine and the crunch of gravel were clearly audible even over the sound of thirty-some horses chewing their dinner. “Uh-oh. That must be her. Fashionably late.”

  Maureen swore under her breath and shoved her cigarettes back into her pocket. “Talk about rotten timing,” she muttered. “Well, back to work, then.”

  As she disappeared through the main doors, Ben glanced at Carole. “Damn,” he said softly. “If Maureen had offered to let us leave five minutes sooner …” He didn’t bother to finish the sentence.

  Carole nodded and grimaced. “Too late now,” she muttered. “Our fate is sealed. Come on, let’s go meet the new horse.”

  It wasn’t until both of them were hurrying out the door that she really realized what Ben had just said. He’s disappointed, she thought in something just short of awe. He wishes we’d left earlier. That means he’d rather be alone with me—well, me and Stevie and Phil—than here meeting a new horse. Wow!

  She wasn’t sure anyone else would appreciate how much that meant to her. But she understood Ben because he was so much like her in certain fundamental ways. Horses were a top priority in his life, as they were in hers. One of the most important and exciting things in the world to him was meeting a new horse, making sure it got settled in comfortably and helping it adjust to its new home. For the first time, Carole dared to think that maybe she was becoming a top priority to Ben, too. Maybe even a step above his work at Pine Hollow. And she felt the same way about him.

  It was such a momentous concept that she stopped in her tracks, wanting to savor the moment. But Maureen’s voice interrupted. “Carole!” she said sharply. “Earth to Carole.”

  “Oh!” Carole snapped out of it immediately, glad that the evening darkness hid her dazed smile. Maureen and Ben were standing at the cab of a large horse van, talking with the burly man who had just slid down from the driver’s seat. “Sorry,” Carole called. “I’m coming.”

  When she joined the little group, she discovered that the man was a driver for a professional transport company. “The kid and her mother were right behind me most of the way over,” he said, tipping back his cap and scratching the bald spot on the top of his head. He glanced down Pine Hollow’s long gravel drive. “Must’ve lost them coming through town. Should be here soon, I reckon.”

  As if on cue, a beige SUV pulled into the drive. Spinning gravel from under its tires, it skidded to a stop a few yards behind the van. Before the motor cut off, a short, slender girl with reddish-brown hair hopped out of the passenger’s seat. “There you are, you maniac!” she snapped, storming over to the driver. “Do the words speed limit mean anything to you?”

  Carole blinked, taken aback by the girl’s tone. She didn’t know any other twelve-year-old who would speak to an adult the way this girl had just spoken to the driver.

  The man seemed unperturbed. “Let’s get that ramp down,” he said calmly, already heading to the side of the truck. Ben and Maureen stepped forward to help, while Carole turned to smile tentatively at the girl and the driver of the SUV, who had just climbed out of the driver’s seat. Judging by her auburn hair and narrow features, the woman had to be the girl’s mother.

  “Hello,” Carole greeted them both. “Welcome to Pine Hollow. We were starting to think you weren’t going to make it tonight.”

  “It’s certainly not our fault,” the mother huffed, seeming slightly put out by the comment.

  Carole gulped. “Um, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it like that. We were just, um, worried. But anyway, we’re glad you’re here now,” she added hastily, eager to change the subject. “My name’s Carole Hanson, and that’s Ben over there, and Maureen.” She pointed out her coworkers, then smiled at the younger girl. “You must be Kelsey Varick.”

  Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Who else would I be?” she commented. Frowning slightly, she turned to glance at the van. “What’s taking them so long over there?”

  “Come on,” Carole said through clenched teeth. She liked to consider herself a fairly patient, open-minded, and forgiving person, but Kelsey’s attitude was already wearing on her nerves. “Let’s go see.”

  “I’ll be there in a moment,” Mrs. Varick said. Leaning against her car, she pulled a cell phone out of her coat pocket. “I have to make a call.”

  Ignoring the small cluster of intermediate students gathered in the stable doorway who had obviously heard the commotion and come out to spectate, Carole hurried over to the horse van with Kelsey at her heels. As they arrived, the driver, with Ben and Maureen’s help, finished carefully lowering the ramp. Then the man stepped back, brushing off his hands. “There you go,” he said.

  Carole stepped forward along with the others, her eagerness to see the new equine arrival overshadowing her irritation with Kelsey. A tall, leggy chestnut gelding was tied in the slanted truck stall. The glow from Pine Hollow’s outdoor spotlights brought out a soft gleam on the horse’s sleek, muscular rump. He craned his neck, trying to see out the door, and Carole pursed her lips admiringly at his elegant Thoroughbred profile.

  “Nice-looking bit of horseflesh,” Maureen commented, echoing Carole’s thoughts.

  Kelsey smiled, looking pleased. “Yes, isn’t he gorgeous?” she said. “His show name’s Flamethrower. I came up with that myself. His registered name is sooo stupid I was embarrassed to tell anybody.”

  Carole could tell that Kelsey was just dying for them to ask her what that name was. But somehow, she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. Besides, they’d all wasted enough time already waiting for her. “Why don’t you go ahead and bring him out?” she suggested, sneaking a peek at her watch.

  Kelsey blinked, seeming surprised. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “She means bring him out,” Maureen said, sounding a little impatient. “Unless you’re expecting us to drive this truck right into his stall or something.”

  “Duh, I’m not expecting that,” Kelsey snorted. “But I thought you guys worked here. So do your job and unload him for me.”

  Maureen’s jaw dropped, and she stared at Kelsey in open astonishment. Knowing that the older stable hand had a wicked temper, Carole spoke up hastily. “I’ll get him,” she offered. “No big deal. Um, Maureen, you can go in and get the paperwork if you want. Ben and I can handle things at this end.”

  “All right,” Maureen said tightly. “That’s a good idea.” Spinning on her heel, she headed inside.

  Carole breathed out a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to deal with was breaking up a fight between Maureen and some snotty twelve-year-old. She turned to face Kelsey. “How is he about unloading? Anything I should know?” she asked.

  Kelsey shrugged. “How should I know? My trainer’s groom always deals with that stuff at shows.”

  Oh boy, Carole thought, sneaking a grimly amused glance at Ben. Max is going to have a field day with this one. If there’s one thing he hates, it’s a kid who wants to ride but thinks she’s too good to take care of all the other details that go into horse care.

  That thou
ght made her feel a little better. Kelsey might be obnoxious, but if she wanted to ride at Pine Hollow, she would have to shape up fast. Cautiously entering the van, Carole pushed Kelsey out of her mind and talked soothingly to the chestnut gelding. As she reached out to pat him, she realized that Flamethrower was even more beautiful up close. He seemed a little nervous about what was going on outside, though he was clearly accustomed to riding in the trailer. While he kept flicking his ears back and forth and twisting around to look out the door, he offered no resistance as Carole untied him and coaxed him down the ramp, murmuring comforting words to him all the while.

  As soon as all four of the horse’s delicate hooves were on solid ground, however, he shied to one side, head held high and nostrils flared as he looked around nervously. “It’s okay, boy,” Carole crooned. “I know it all looks strange now, but you’ll be right at home soon.” She turned and offered the lead rope to Kelsey.

  The younger girl took a step away, eyeing her horse suspiciously. “He’s acting weird,” she said. “What if he kicks me?”

  “Don’t go near that horse, Kelsey!” Mrs. Varick called from her spot near her car, lowering the phone from her ear. “I don’t want you getting hurt! Let the help deal with him until he calms down!”

  Carole sighed and exchanged glances with Ben. She had the funniest feeling they weren’t going to be able to escape anytime soon. She can’t unload her horse from the trailer, and she can’t lead him once he’s out, she thought. What are the odds she’s going to be able to take care of stuff like getting him into the stall and taking off his shipping bandages?

  “Can you handle this for a second?” she murmured, passing the lead rope to Ben. “I just want to run inside and call Stevie.”

  “Whew!” Lisa patted her mouth with the edge of her cloth napkin. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so full in my life. But I just couldn’t stop eating—everything was so amazing!”

  Scott smiled, looking pleased. “I thought you might like this place,” he said, spearing one last piece of asparagus with his fork. “I came here with Callie and my folks when it opened, and we all loved it.”

  “I can believe that.” Lisa glanced around the restaurant, feeling content. So far the evening had been everything she had hoped it would be. Scott had arrived right on time to pick her up, looking unbelievably handsome in his sport jacket and tie, and had managed to charm her mother while also making a quick escape. He had spent most of the drive to the restaurant telling her how incredible she looked in her favorite black dress and upswept hairdo.

  And sometimes it really is pretty cool to go out with someone sort of famous, Lisa thought, smiling as she remembered how the maître d’s eyes had lit with recognition as soon as they’d entered. Even though another couple had been waiting in the lobby, she and Scott had been ushered straight to their table, which was located in a cozy windowed nook overlooking a peaceful view of a moonlit herb garden and a large holly shrub. She was also quite impressed with the restaurant itself. Mom was right, she thought, once again taking in the tasteful chandelier and elegant velvet draperies. This place really is … well, la-di-da.

  As she returned her attention to her own table, she noticed that Scott was gazing at her, the golden light from their candle picking up flecks of blond and red in his thick brown hair and casting dramatic shadows on his chiseled features. Suddenly feeling shy, Lisa smiled at him. “By the way,” she said, “thanks for bringing me here. It’s really nice.”

  “By the way,” Scott said softly, leaning forward and stretching his hand across the small table toward her own, “have I mentioned lately how beautiful you look tonight?”

  Lisa opened her mouth to answer. But before she could get a word out, she heard a loud, cheerful voice calling Scott’s name from somewhere across the room.

  Dropping her hand, Scott turned to see who was coming. Lisa glanced over, too, and spotted a portly, bearded man in an expensive-looking suit threading his way through the tables toward them.

  Scott stood up to greet the man. “Mr. Ganz!” he exclaimed in his most jovial voice. “There you are. I was wondering if you were purposely avoiding me—or maybe just off negotiating to buy yet another fabulously successful restaurant!”

  The man threw back his head and laughed loudly, bringing curious glances from the other diners. “Scott, you’re more like your old man every day!” he exclaimed as he extended his hand for a hearty handshake with Scott. Suddenly noticing Lisa, the man smiled. “Ah, and I see your taste in women is just as fine as your father’s as well. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lovely companion?”

  “Of course. Mr. Ganz, this is Lisa Atwood,” Scott said, smiling at Lisa. “Lisa, this is Mr. Harold Ganz. He’s an old friend of the family. Oh, and he just happens to own this place.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Lisa said politely.

  It figures Scott would run into someone he knows, even at a place like this, she thought, more amused than annoyed. But at least it’s not like running into friends our own age, where we’d be stuck with them for ages.

  After greeting Lisa with a smile and a little bow, Mr. Ganz returned his attention to Scott. “How’s the family, Scotty my boy?” he asked. “You must tell your parents, I’m going to take it personally if they don’t stop in and see me again soon.”

  “I’m sure they’d love to, but it’s a tough job getting reservations.” Scott smiled. He gestured to an empty chair at a nearby table. “Why don’t you pull up a seat and join us for a while? Then I can fill you in on all the latest.”

  Lisa blinked, hardly believing her ears. Had Scott really just invited the restaurant owner to join their date?

  “Well, if you and the lovely Lisa don’t mind, I suppose I could sit down long enough for a cup of coffee.” Mr. Ganz grabbed the empty chair, then gestured to the waiter hovering nearby. “Coffee all around, Vincent.”

  The waiter nodded and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. In a matter of minutes they all had large steaming cups of coffee in front of them, and Scott and Mr. Ganz were deeply involved in a discussion of people, places, and events Lisa had never heard of and didn’t care about at all.

  Lisa stared into her coffee cup, fighting the urge to knock it aside like a petulant child. What’s Scott’s problem, anyway? she wondered. I’m sure Mr. Ganz has better things to do than hang out with us. And I certainly didn’t expect to wind up our dinner making small talk with some fifty-year-old man I just met. Besides, Scott knows I don’t even like coffee. At least he should know. Not that I should expect him to remember a little detail like that—after all, he doesn’t even seem to remember that we’re supposed to be on a date!

  “Excuse me,” she mumbled, pushing back her chair. “Uh, I just need to, um, powder my nose.”

  She took off for the rest room without waiting for a response, feeling dangerously close to tears. Knowing she was overreacting but not caring, she locked herself into a stall and leaned against the cold tile wall, allowing a wave of self-pity and frustration to wash over her.

  Is this ever going to stop? she wondered. If we can’t have a private evening at a place like this, what hope is there for us? And the worst part is, Scott doesn’t even see anything wrong with it. It’s like he doesn’t even care if every single date we have gets interrupted by other people. Like I’m not enough for him all by myself.

  She realized she was being unfair. Scott didn’t seek out people during their dates—he just didn’t object too hard when they sought him.

  Letting herself out of the stall, Lisa walked across to the sinks. Staring into the mirror, she tried to regain control of her emotions. No matter what else happened, she had to go back out there and get through the rest of the evening. She and Scott had talked about seeing a movie after dinner, but now she wondered if she should just claim she had a headache and back out of the plans. Or if she should maybe just back out of their whole relationship.

  She didn’t like that last thought at all. I like Scott, she admit
ted to herself. I like him a whole lot—more and more, the more I get to know him. But is it worth it? Is it worth being miserable at times like this, even if he’s great the rest of the time? Can I figure out a way to deal with that?

  As much as she hated to admit it, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to do that. She wasn’t sure she could learn to fade quietly into the background, smiling politely as Scott chatted up one friend or acquaintance after another. She wasn’t sure she’d ever learn not to mind feeling secondary in his life.

  None of her options seemed very appealing, no matter how many times she examined them. Finally, realizing she’d been in the rest room for an awfully long time, Lisa took a few deep breaths. Straightening her hair and moistening her lips, she headed for the door.

  She almost collided with Scott, who was standing in the narrow hallway just outside. “There you are!” he exclaimed. “I was getting worried. You’re not feeling sick, are you?”

  “Yes, I am,” Lisa blurted out before she realized what she was saying. “Sick and tired of playing second fiddle to every passing acquaintance.”

  “What?” Scott looked startled. Glancing around the empty hallway, he cleared his throat. “Um, let’s go get our coats. Maybe we can talk outside.”

  Lisa shrugged. “What about your friend Mr. Ganz?” she said. “Shouldn’t you get back to him?”

  “He had to get back to work. I already took care of the bill and everything—I was just waiting for you.” Scott sounded worried now. “Come on, Lisa. Let’s go talk.”

  “Okay.” Lisa followed him toward the coatroom, feeling sulky and a little embarrassed about her outburst. What good was it going to do to talk? Scott wasn’t going to change. He was social and friendly and interested in people, all kinds of people—that was just who he was. Asking him to give up his outgoing ways would be like asking Stevie to take a vow of silence or Carole to give up riding.

 

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