Stevie grimaced. In her days at Pine Hollow, Veronica had always spent more time whining and complaining than doing anything useful. She obviously hadn’t changed much. “Okay, well, see you,” Stevie said pointedly. “I’ve got to be going—I’m on my way to the pathetic, chaotic stable now.”
Veronica didn’t take the hint. Instead she tagged along as Stevie stepped out of the school building and hurried down the sidewalk. Stevie did her best to ignore her as she headed past the student parking lot, planning to hit the pizza place across the street—she wanted to grab a snack before she headed over to Pine Hollow.
“Really, it’s sort of hard to believe that place is even still in business,” Veronica commented. “Pine Hollow, I mean. It’s not exactly the most professional place in the world.”
“So what?” Stevie snapped, her patience with Veronica rapidly wearing thin. “We all like it fine just the way it—” She stopped in midsentence, squinting at a figure walking briskly down the sidewalk. “Hey, there’s Maureen.”
“Who?” Veronica followed her gaze. “What, you mean Ms. Grubby McFarmgirl there? Is she a friend of yours?”
At that moment Maureen spotted Stevie. “Hey,” she said, raising a hand in greeting. Her other hand was holding a shopping bag with the logo of the local feed store printed on it. “What’s up, Lake? This where you spend your days?” She glanced up at the imposing facade of Fenton Hall.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Stevie replied with a weak smile. She took a step toward the pizza place, ready to make her escape from both Maureen and Veronica. “Um, so I’d better, uh—”
“And where do you spend your days?” Veronica asked Maureen pointedly, giving the stable hand an obvious once-over, lingering on the manure stains on her jeans and the greenish dried horse slobber on her shirt. “I’m guessing it’s not shopping for the latest fashions at Neiman’s. Or at the dry cleaner’s, for that matter.”
Maureen just snorted and glanced at Veronica like someone noticing a particularly ugly bug crawling past. But Stevie frowned, annoyed on the stable hand’s behalf. Maybe Maureen wasn’t her favorite person in the world, but Stevie didn’t base that opinion on something as shallow and meaningless as the labels on her clothes or the grass stains on her arms. That’s Veronica for you, she thought grimly. She wouldn’t know hard work if it bit her in the butt. No wonder she can’t recognize the signs in anyone else.
She was tempted to tell Veronica that right to her smirking, obnoxious face. But she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten to her. Instead, she turned to Maureen with a friendly smile. “Hey,” she said. “I was just going to grab a slice, then I’m heading over to Pine Hollow. Can I give you a ride?”
Maureen blinked, shooting her a strange look. “No thanks, Lake,” she said, gesturing toward something behind Stevie.
Glancing over her shoulder as Veronica snickered, Stevie belatedly noticed the Pine Hollow station wagon parked just half a block away. “Oh,” she said sheepishly, feeling her cheeks start to burn. How did Maureen manage that? How was she able to make her feel stupid even when she was trying to be nice? “Okay, whatever.”
With some effort Stevie forced herself to ignore Maureen’s raised eyebrow as well as Veronica’s bemused smirk. Annoyed with both of them, she spun on her heel and headed across the street.
“Lisa? Oh, there you are, darling! Come with me!”
Lisa looked up from her history textbook and blinked at her mother. “What?”
Mrs. Atwood fluttered her hands, a weirdly excited expression on her face. “Come downstairs, dear,” she said. “There’s something you need to see.”
“Um, can it wait?” Lisa glanced down at her textbook, her mind still revolving around the Russian Revolution. “I’m sort of in the middle of something.…”
“It’s quite important.” Lisa’s mother hurried into the room and tugged at her sleeve. “Now come along, hurry!”
Lisa sighed and stood up, stretching her arms over her head. Her mother was already rushing out of the room again, and Lisa followed more slowly, trying to fight back a feeling of dread. Big announcements in her house rarely involved good news.
Let’s just hope it’s not some real doozy like the divorce, Lisa thought with a grimace, remembering that horrible day. Or like last month when Mom decided we were moving to New Jersey.
She rolled her eyes as she remembered that thankfully short-lived plan. Her mother was fairly predictable most of the time, but once in a while she’d come up with something totally crazy out of the blue, leaving Lisa scrambling to catch up.
Lisa started down the stairs with some trepidation. Halfway down, she stopped short. Scott was standing in the foyer, looking more handsome than ever in a dark suit and tie. Lisa’s hand automatically strayed to her own sloppy ponytail, and she wished she hadn’t changed out of her school clothes into a ragged pair of sweatpants and the “I’m with Stupid” sweatshirt Stevie had given her as a gag gift one Christmas.
“Oh!” she said as he glanced up and spotted her. “Um, hi. I—I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know,” Scott replied, his blue eyes twinkling. “Surprise! Now hurry up. You have exactly ten minutes to get gussied up, and then we’re leaving.”
Lisa blinked, trying to force her brain to catch up. Shaking the last bits of Russian history and family memories out of her head, she did her best to focus on what was happening. “Wait,” she said. “You told me you had some kind of family thing today. A political event your dad was dragging you all to—or something?”
“I lied,” Scott admitted, glancing at Lisa’s mother, who was grinning on the sidelines. “Sorry. But I wanted this to be a surprise.”
“This … what?” Lisa was still confused. “Are we going out or something?”
“Or something,” Scott said. “Now come on, the clock’s ticking.”
“Go on, dear,” Mrs. Atwood urged, clasping her hands happily. “I’ll keep Scott company while you change.”
Not knowing what else to do, Lisa headed upstairs. She was completely mystified by Scott’s sudden appearance. She wasn’t sure whether she was annoyed by that or intrigued, but she decided the only thing to do was play along and see what happened. When she headed downstairs a few minutes later, neatly dressed in a wool skirt and her favorite merino sweater, Scott and her mother were still waiting in the hall.
“How’s this?” Lisa asked. “I wasn’t sure what to wear, since I have no idea where we’re going or what’s going on.”
“Beautiful,” Scott pronounced, stepping forward to take her hand as she came down the last few stairs. “Now come on, your carriage awaits.”
“Um, okay.” Lisa kept her voice neutral as she accepted the coat her mother handed her. She would never admit it out loud, but as far as she was concerned one of Scott’s biggest flaws as a boyfriend was his zippy little sports car, which looked great but definitely left something to be desired when it came to legroom. Lisa had already snagged more than one pair of panty hose climbing in and out of the car’s bucket seats, and she found herself wishing she’d chosen pants instead of a skirt.
“Have a lovely time, dear,” Mrs. Atwood trilled, giving her a little wave.
“I’ll do my best to see that she does,” Scott replied with a smile.
He turned and held the door open for Lisa. As she stepped outside, she stopped short with a gasp. “It—You—There’s a carriage out here!” she exclaimed, wondering if she was dreaming.
She blinked, but the scene held. Standing at the curb in front of her house was a large bay horse hitched to a two-wheeled cart. Blinking again, Lisa realized that both horse and cart looked very familiar.
“Hey,” she said. “That’s Windsor. And isn’t that Max’s road cart?”
Scott grinned. “Absolutely. And they’re here to carry you to your surprise destination.”
“Really?” Lisa grinned back. She could tell Scott was enjoying himself. And she was starting to catch that spirit, too
. Taking a step closer, she saw that the horse wasn’t actually standing there on his own—May Grover was holding his head. “Okay, then,” she said, waving to May. “Let’s giddyup!”
She walked to the cart and Scott helped her in. Then he swung up into the driver’s seat and picked up the reins and the long driving whip.
“Isn’t May going to drive?” Lisa had assumed that the younger girl, who had some driving experience from Pony Club, would be their chauffeur.
Scott shook his head, waving as May saluted them and then jogged off in the direction of Pine Hollow, which was about a ten-minute walk away. “Nope, it’s all me,” he said. “May just came along to help out while I was inside convincing you to come away with me.”
Lisa glanced from Scott’s hands to the horse and back again. “Um, no offense or anything, but are you sure you can do this?” she asked uncertainly. “I mean, I’m a little rusty with this stuff, but if you want me to drive—”
“No, no!” Scott winked at her. “I’ll be fine. Max has been giving me some intensive lessons for the past couple of days. Just watch this.” He sat up straight on the seat and signaled for the horse to walk forward. Windsor flicked his ears, seeming to debate briefly, but then stepped off obediently.
“Hey!” Lisa exclaimed. “Pretty good.” She smiled as Scott drove them smoothly to the end of the block and carefully negotiated the corner.
She was amazed that Scott had gone to so much trouble for this. Driving wasn’t as easy as it looked, and so far he was doing very well. Sitting back on the seat and stuffing her hands into her coat pockets against the wind, she watched Windsor’s hindquarters rise and fall rhythmically. The stable owner had trained several of his horses to pull the small collection of carts, buggies, and sleighs housed in a lean-to behind the equipment shed, but none of them had much practice—they got enough work under saddle, and Max didn’t like to overtax them. Though Windsor’s steady temperament made him a wonderful lesson horse, his extensive driving training was the main reason Max had purchased the big, calm, mannerly gelding a year or so earlier. Once the stable addition was finished, the contractors were going to start on a couple of extra outbuildings, including a shed big enough for the carts. Max had received numerous queries from people wanting driving lessons, and this way he would have the setup to handle them.
During the rest of the short drive, Scott didn’t have much to say. Lisa kept quiet, too, guessing that he was concentrating on his task. Before long they were turning into Pine Hollow’s long driveway.
“We made it!” Lisa said with a smile. “That was really fun, Scott. Thanks. What a nice surprise.”
“Glad you liked it.” Scott took his eyes off the horse in front of him just long enough to shoot her a mischievous grin. “But there are more surprises to come.”
“What do you mean?” Lisa wondered if he had planned a trail ride for them. Casting a doubtful glance at the horizon, where the sun hovered just over the trees, she decided that probably wasn’t it. Besides, unless Scott was planning to follow the old-fashioned theme and break out the sidesaddle from Max’s attic, Lisa wasn’t really dressed for a ride. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Bringing Windsor to a clean halt, Scott jumped out of the cart and offered his hand with a flourish.
Lisa allowed him to help her down. Before she could ask any more questions, Sarah Anne Porter and another intermediate rider named Alexandra Foster came scurrying out of the stable. They grabbed Windsor and led him off, cart and all, as Lisa watched in amazement.
“How did you do that?” she asked Scott as the younger girls disappeared around the corner. “Carole is constantly complaining that those two will barely clean their own tack, let alone volunteer for other chores.”
Scott merely grinned in response. Lisa shrugged, a little amazed as she always was at the magical way he had with people.
“Come along,” he said, offering his arm and leading her toward the parking area. “Your other chariot awaits over here.”
Lisa glanced ahead and spotted his car. She opened her mouth to ask again where they were going, but shut it before saying a word.
I never knew Scott could be so full of surprises, she thought with a slight shiver of anticipation. He’s obviously been working hard to plan this, whatever it is. So maybe I should just sit back and enjoy it.
EIGHT
“Good job today, boy,” Callie said, patting Scooby on the shoulder as she brought the reins forward over his head. “Come on, let’s see about getting you a nice warm sponge bath and maybe some carrots.”
Scooby cocked an ear at the word carrots, then followed obediently as she led him toward the stable building. Callie was feeling good—she had decided to do about ten miles that day, mostly at a medium trot, and Scooby had gone along with the plan willingly. They had worked hard until the daylight started to desert them, when Callie had reluctantly headed in at a walk, cooling him out as best she could while they were still out on the trail. Now she was looking forward to spending the next hour or so pampering her horse, giving him a good grooming and then bedding him down for the night.
As they walked into the entryway, Callie brought Scooby to a halt to avoid running into Ben, who was just leading a school horse named Diablo out of the indoor ring.
“Hi,” Ben greeted her. “ ’Scuse us. Oh, and the farrier’s in there if you need him.” He gestured toward the indoor ring.
“Thanks. I think we’re okay for now.” Callie waited as Ben turned Diablo toward the stable aisle. “How’s his foot?” she asked, remembering that the bay gelding had been slightly lame after a lesson a couple of days earlier.
“So-so,” Ben replied. “Dr. Barker and the farrier both think it’s just a minor sole bruise, but we’re keeping an eye on it.”
Callie nodded, knowing that it probably wouldn’t be easy to keep Diablo quiet for too long. The spirited gelding’s unflagging energy was part of what made him an ideal horse for intermediate riders. He was well trained and athletic but could also be restless and headstrong when the mood struck him.
“Good luck,” Callie told Ben. “Hope he’s okay.”
She waited until Ben and the gelding were out of the way, then continued toward Scooby’s stall. Leading her horse in, she quickly untacked him.
“Be right back,” she promised, closing the stall door and hoisting the saddle and bridle. Heading for the tack room, she thought back over that afternoon’s ride.
For once, I can’t think of anything that could’ve gone better, she thought, a bit surprised to realize it. Scooby was great. I did okay. We accomplished what we set out to do and did it well. We’re quite a team!
She smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have found such a great partner in Scooby. The most amazing thing about it was that she’d almost missed him. The first time she’d gone to see him, she had been so distracted by other things going on in her life that she’d barely noticed what he was like. If she hadn’t decided to make a second visit, she might never have realized how well he fit what she was looking for.
But I guess that’s the way things go a lot of the time, she thought as she set her saddle on its assigned rack and hung up her bridle, making a mental note to give them a good cleaning later. You never can tell where any decision, any action, will lead you. If I’d decided to buy that Arabian I looked at before I found Scooby, I might be in a different place right now. I could be even farther along in my training. Or I could be in the hospital with a broken leg from being bucked off. There’s just no way to know now.
It was an interesting thought. She pondered it further as she grabbed a bucket from the stack in the tack room and headed to the wash stall to fill it.
But that’s just life, really, she thought. You can’t second-guess things too much or you’ll drive yourself crazy. For instance, I could stand here and wonder what might’ve happened if I hadn’t been in the car with Stevie that night—the night of the accident. Or even if I was there, what if she’d driven just a l
ittle bit faster or slower so that we didn’t reach that spot in the road at the exact moment when Fez got out and ran across it? Things would be a lot different now: Fez would be alive, I would never have gone through all that time in the hospital, Stevie would probably still have her old car. But not only that. A lot of other stuff would be affected too. Like, if Fez hadn’t died, I probably wouldn’t have Scooby now. If I hadn’t been hurt in that accident, I might not have bonded with my friends as much as I have—I wouldn’t have had to count on them so much, trust them so soon. And without that break from training, I might have a whole different attitude about riding than I do now. Of course, if I hadn’t been so conspicuous with my crutches and all, maybe George wouldn’t have noticed me. I might have been able to avoid that whole mess.…
Noticing that the water bucket was half full, she stopped the tap. Then she hoisted the bucket and returned to her horse, who was watching for her over the half door of his stall. Callie couldn’t help smiling at the hopeful expression on his spotted face.
“Okay, okay, I know,” she said, setting down the bucket. “I promised you carrots, didn’t I?” Producing a few orange pieces from her pocket, she held them out for the horse to nibble off her hand.
It’s all tied together, though, she thought, patting Scooby as he finished and began snuffling around for more treats. The good and the bad. And the way things have turned out, I guess I can’t really regret any of it. Not George, or Fez, or the accident, or the other bad stuff. Because it’s all led to good stuff. Fez’s death led me to Scooby. The accident led me to the most amazing friends I’ve ever had. Even the whole horrible George business probably brought me closer to my family. So no, I suppose I can’t really regret any of it. Not that regret ever accomplishes anything, anyway. We just have to accept the hand we’re dealt and go with it the best way we can. And usually, if we make an effort, things turn out okay in the end, one way or another.
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