Million-Dollar Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  They didn’t think they had. They’d seen horses with better conformation, they’d seen horses that were more valuable in the sense of being purebreds, and they’d seen horses that had more striking coloring than Honey-Pie’s pale chestnut coat, but they didn’t think they’d ever seen a horse that had so immediately struck them as just plain nice.

  The horse followed them obediently into her new stall. She looked around at the large foaling box, sniffed, shifted her ears, nuzzled the fresh shavings, and then sampled the hay in the tick. Once she was satisfied with that, she took a sip from the water bucket and looked directly at the three girls, as if to thank them.

  “You’re welcome,” Carole said, producing another bit of carrot, which Honey-Pie took politely.

  Stevie patted Honey-Pie’s cheek and declared that she’d be happy to pay a million bucks for a sweet horse like this—if she had the million. But she was only joking. Honey-Pie was sweet, all right, but this was not a million dollars’ worth of horse. Not by a long shot. Honey-Pie was clearly mixed-breed—and so thoroughly mixed that none of the girls could identify any particular bloodline. She was probably beyond the age at which she could be bred, so she couldn’t be considered valuable in that way. She’d do fine as a schooling horse, if that was why she was there, but nobody would pay that kind of money for a schooling horse. She was too old for any serious competition, showing, endurance, or racing.

  In short, there was nothing about her that was worth a million dollars, except, it seemed, her personality.

  The girls could hear Max approaching with Honey-Pie’s two owners.

  “Of course,” he said. “All our horses get the best care.”

  “No expense should be spared,” Ben said.

  “None ever is,” said Max. “All our horses receive first-rate care.”

  “Top-drawer,” said Paul.

  “That too,” Max said.

  The girls exchanged glances. Nobody who knew Max would ever think he’d slight any horse in his charge.

  “And we only want your best stable hands looking after Honey-Pie when you can’t give her your personal attention.”

  “I have only the best stable hands,” Max said. “And now I can introduce you to three of them.” He stopped at Honey-Pie’s stall and indicated The Saddle Club.

  “This is your idea of top drawer?” Ben asked.

  “I’d like you to meet Carole, Stevie, and Lisa. All the riders here have learned proper care of horses, and they all pitch in to help look after our horses.”

  “But what do these little girls know?” Ben asked.

  “We know how to unload a horse from a van,” Stevie said as politely as she could manage.

  “And girls, I’d like you to meet Mr. Benjamin Stookey,” Max said, indicating the lawyer, “and Mr. Paul Fredericks.”

  “How do you do?” Lisa asked. The men nodded at all three girls but didn’t acknowledge them much beyond that.

  “Look, you’re already paying me extra to house Honey-Pie in this large stall, and I’m sure that’s all the extra consideration she needs. She’ll have access to the little paddock …”

  Recognizing a cue when she heard one, Lisa opened the double door at the back of the stall to show the men the little paddock.

  “… and from time to time, we’ll let her out into the pasture. Of course, the best thing of all would be to have her ridden occasionally.”

  “No way!” said Mr. Stookey.

  “But it’s good for saddle horses,” Carole protested.

  “And they like it,” Stevie added.

  “And I just bet this girl loves to be ridden,” Lisa said, stroking the horse’s neck.

  “Honey-Pie is retired,” Mr. Stookey said, making his declaration with finality. “She’s not to be ridden.”

  “By anyone,” Mr. Fredericks added.

  “As you wish,” said Max.

  Carole scowled at him, but the look he gave her indicated that this was neither the time nor the place to argue.

  “But we will give her pasture time,” said Max.

  “Is that wise?” Mr. Stookey asked.

  The girls had never heard anybody question Max’s judgment before. What surprised them more than that, however, was the fact that Max just let them go ahead and do it.

  “I’m sure it is,” said Max. “A horse’s natural habitat is in fields and pastures. The worst thing you can do to a healthy young horse like Honey-Pie is to keep her cooped up in a stall and a tiny paddock. She really ought to be ridden several times a week.”

  “No riding. And what about the weather?” Mr. Fredericks asked.

  “We don’t put the horses out in bad weather, sir,” Max said. “And when there’s a chill in the air, they all have blankets on them.”

  “Good ones?”

  “Not cashmere,” Max said pointedly. “But warm ones.”

  “Ben,” said Paul, as if to protest leaving Honey-Pie with Max.

  “This place comes highly recommended,” Mr. Stookey said to the younger man.

  “Well, for now, then, I guess,” Mr. Fredericks assented with a shrug.

  “Well, since Honey-Pie seems to have settled in and these girls are seeing to her needs, why don’t we go back to my office and finish up the paperwork so that you two can be on your way?”

  Without further ado, the three men headed back toward the office.

  “I never saw anything like that!” said Stevie once the office door had closed.

  “Imagine! Questioning Max’s judgment!” Lisa said.

  “That’s bad enough, but then saying this sweet thing can’t be ridden!” Carole added.

  “Well, she may be a million-dollar horse,” Stevie said, “but I think she’s owned by two twenty-five-cent idiots.”

  “Eloquent,” Lisa said. Carole agreed.

  “YOU WON’T BELIEVE what I just saw in Max’s office!” Veronica diAngelo said breathlessly to Lisa, Stevie, and Carole, who were still standing by Honey-Pie’s new stall.

  “Two idiots who don’t know anything about either horses or Max Regnery?” Stevie suggested.

  “I don’t know about that,” Veronica said dismissively. “But it was definitely two men who know how to dress!”

  The Saddle Club exchanged glances. It was completely typical of Veronica to notice clothes and pay no attention to the sweet old mare in the stall next to where she was standing.

  “Not exactly barn wear,” Lisa said.

  “Nothing to wear while delivering a million-dollar horse,” Stevie said.

  That was when Veronica noticed Honey-Pie. Her eyes traveled over the horse as quickly and as disdainfully as they would over a woman wearing an off-the-rack dress.

  “What million-dollar horse?” she asked, looking around for something more obviously valuable.

  “This one.” Carole gestured toward Honey-Pie.

  Veronica’s brows furrowed. “Oh, no,” she said. “There’s some mistake. This horse isn’t worth …” They could see the calculator in her brain working. Finally Veronica shrugged. “She wouldn’t fetch five hundred dollars from a glue factory,” she said.

  “Neither would you,” said Stevie.

  Veronica had started to go off in a huff when Max came out of his office with Mr. Stookey and Mr. Fredericks. Because Honey-Pie’s stall was near the barn’s exit, Veronica stopped short, getting another look at the elegant clothing the two men wore as they walked toward the front of the barn.

  She was still admiring the cut of Mr. Stookey’s suit when Max came over to talk to the girls.

  “Max, I think there’s been a terrible mistake, as you can surely see,” said Veronica. “They’ve brought the wrong horse. It must have been the van driver’s fault. You know how careless they can be, and I guess the men never looked.…”

  “Veronica, I’d like you to meet Honey-Pie, our newest resident,” Max said, pointing to the old mare. “And there is no mistake.”

  “Piff,” she said, dismissing the horse altogether. “I guess I’m
the only one here who knows anything about valuable horses,” she muttered. “So I’ll go look after my own Thoroughbred.” She turned on her heel and headed down the stable aisle.

  “Maybe I should give her directions to Danny’s stall,” Stevie suggested. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever known her to go there to look after her horse.”

  “That’s enough, Stevie,” Max said, but Stevie would have sworn that there was a little smile on his lips. “I’ve got a lot more paperwork to fill out for our new guest, so I hope you’ll continue to make her feel welcome and show her around a little bit.”

  “Count on us, Max,” Carole said.

  “I always do.”

  The girls went back into the oversized box stall and gave Honey-Pie a quick grooming. She clearly loved every minute of it, especially the part where Carole gave her another bit of carrot at the end as a reward for standing still.

  Lisa reopened the door to the little paddock then, and the bright light drew Honey-Pie’s attention. Carole went to snap the lead line back on her halter, but Honey-Pie nudged her away and headed for the door on her own.

  Stevie laughed. “I guess she doesn’t need any help from us to find her way outside!”

  “I guess not,” Carole agreed, tucking the lead rope into her back pocket.

  The girls followed Honey-Pie into the paddock. It wasn’t a large space, but it had a pretty view of the Virginia countryside and the hills that surrounded Pine Hollow. Honey-Pie looked longingly at the fields and the woods beyond.

  “She’d love a good trail ride, wouldn’t she?” Lisa asked.

  “You heard the orders,” said Carole. “This old girl isn’t going to go any farther than the large paddock on the other side of the barn.”

  “If that’s retirement, I don’t want any,” said Stevie.

  “I agree, and so must Honey-Pie,” said Carole, observing the horse. “But owners are owners, and until Max convinces them otherwise, they have the last word on their horse’s treatment.”

  “If only they had a clue,” said Lisa. “I sure wonder who those guys are and how they came to own Honey-Pie. I never saw more reluctant—”

  “—or more ignorant—” Carole said.

  “—that too—owners in my life,” Lisa completed her thought.

  “It’s a mystery,” said Stevie, looking intrigued at the very word.

  “Well, the good news is that Honey-Pie is out of their incompetent hands and into our competent ones!” Carole said. “And my experience tells me she’s ready to have some time to herself.”

  Lisa and Stevie agreed. They left the mare in her little paddock, with the door open so that she could come back into her stall whenever she wanted. Everything that needed to be done had been done for Honey-Pie.

  The girls changed into their street clothes and were going to stop by Max’s office to say good-bye when they noticed that the black Jaguar was back in the driveway and heard Mr. Fredericks’s voice coming from inside Max’s office. The door was open and it was hard not to overhear the conversation.

  “It just seems to me that they know what they’re doing,” Mr. Fredericks was saying.

  “They do. And so do other people here, Mr. Fredericks.”

  “Call me Paul.”

  “Sure, Paul,” said Max.

  “Those little girls are what Honey-Pie needs,” said Mr. Fredericks.

  Stevie, Lisa, and Carole stopped in the hallway where neither Max nor Mr. Fredericks could see them. Mr. Fredericks was talking about them. He seemed to be urging Max to let them act as Honey-Pie’s exclusive caretakers.

  “We could pay extra,” Mr. Fredericks said. “I mean, if the girls would like it.”

  “You don’t have to pay extra, Mr.—”

  “Paul.”

  “Right, uh, Paul. Every horse gets the best of care and the care is given by whomever I say, whenever I say. I cannot let you tell me who is going to look after Honey-Pie.”

  “But they seem so good!”

  The girls beamed at the compliment from Mr. Fredericks.

  “I decide these things,” said Max. “Every young rider needs experience in horse care, and when each of them is ready, he or she is allowed to take on responsibilities. But not until I say so.”

  That stung. It sounded to Carole as if Max didn’t think they had the necessary skills to look after Honey-Pie. Didn’t he trust them? He’d just told Mr. Stookey they knew what they were doing. Why was he now telling Paul they didn’t? What had they done wrong?

  They wanted to hear more of the conversation, but it was interrupted.

  Veronica diAngelo, apparently unaware that she had brushed past Stevie, Lisa, and Carole in the hallway, and oblivious to the fact that Max was having a serious discussion with Paul Fredericks, stormed into the office unannounced—her usual manner of arrival.

  “That Red!” she huffed. “You won’t believe what he did, or rather what he didn’t do!” She was well into her spiel before she even noticed Paul Fredericks, in spite of his expensive clothes. “It’s so typical of him, Max! You must do something about him. He doesn’t know the first thing about looking after a really valuable horse!”

  “Veronica!” Max said, trying to halt her tirade.

  “Don’t you ‘Veronica’ me!” she answered through her teeth. “I won’t be put off this time! He’s placed my horse in danger!”

  “Veronica, you are interrupting me,” Max said. “Excuse me, Mr. Fredericks, but this is Veronica diAngelo, and she doesn’t always notice when someone is in the middle of a conversation.”

  “Oh, hello,” said Veronica, and then, without missing a beat, continued with her diatribe about Red O’Malley, Pine Hollow’s head stable hand, whom Veronica sometimes viewed as her personal servant. “He is extremely lax in the care of the stable’s most valuable horse, my Danny. Need I remind you how many blue ribbons my horse has won? Or how much my father pays you to give him the best of care?”

  “Veronica, we’ll talk later,” Max said, cutting her off completely. He turned to Mr. Fredericks. “I am sorry about this interruption, but I just want to assure you that you have not made a mistake by leaving Honey-Pie in our care.”

  Mr. Fredericks smiled warmly. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said, shaking Max’s offered hand. “I know now that I can trust you and your staff to give Honey-Pie exactly the kind of care and attention she deserves.” He exited Max’s office and was in his Jaguar before Max completely exploded at Veronica.

  Carole, Lisa, and Stevie had heard it all before and didn’t want to be around while Max was furious at anyone. So, as Max explained very clearly that it was extremely rude to interrupt when he was having a conversation with someone else and while he told Veronica that if she looked after her own horse the way every single other owner did, perhaps she’d be more pleased with the care he got, The Saddle Club left Pine Hollow for the day.

  They had some things to think about and some things to talk about. Veronica’s being angry and petulant was not news, but Max’s remarks to Mr. Fredericks about how his students took on responsibilities only when he said so were very curious. It was true, of course, but the implication was that The Saddle Club wasn’t necessarily ready to take on the responsibility of looking after Honey-Pie. What had they done to make Max lose confidence in them so suddenly?

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” Lisa said. “I thought we were doing everything just right for Honey-Pie.”

  “Honey-Pie seemed to think so, too,” said Stevie, recalling the sweet way the horse had behaved.

  “Well, except for the part about wanting to put a lead on her to take her out to the paddock,” Carole said, smiling at the memory.

  “Wasn’t that cute?” Lisa asked, thinking of the surprised look on Carole’s face when the horse nudged her.

  “Honey-Pie has got to be the easiest horse I’ve ever looked after,” said Stevie. “Maybe when Max said she was a million-dollar horse, he meant that was how much the owners saved in trouble. Some horses …”
/>
  She didn’t have to explain. Her friends knew that many horses had quirks that made them hard to look after. One wanted to be led only from the right-hand side; another would eat only feed without corn in it. Some horses wouldn’t go into a paddock; some seemed at ease only with men or only with women. Prancer, the horse Lisa rode most of the time, was much more comfortable with young riders than with adults. Honey-Pie, on the other hand, seemed to be completely quirkless, unless you counted the fact that she could walk out into the paddock without any help from Carole!

  “We can give her the best care,” Lisa said.

  “I know it, you know it, and I thought Max knew it,” Stevie said. “So why did he tell Mr. Call-me-Paul different?”

  “Beats me,” said Lisa.

  “It’s a mystery,” said Stevie. “You know, that’s the second time I’ve said that in the last hour or so about Honey-Pie.”

  “I noticed,” Lisa said.

  “There’s a lot about that horse that’s mysterious,” Carole confirmed.

  “I’m beginning to think we’re going to have to do some sleuthing,” Stevie said.

  “Don’t be silly,” Lisa said. “The most important thing we can do for that horse is look after her. If Max doesn’t think we know what we’re doing, we’re going to have to work extra hard, for her and for ourselves. We have to save our reputations.”

  “I can’t disagree,” Stevie said. “Still, I’d like to know what’s going on. Really.”

  “Oh, we’ll learn, all in good time,” said Carole. “For now, it’s just going to be fun to take care of Honey-Pie.”

  The three girls had arrived at the shopping center. It was just a small strip mall, but it had two attractions that made it extremely important to them. The first was TD’s and the second was the bus stop. Stevie and Lisa each lived a few short blocks from Pine Hollow, and only a few houses from one another, but Carole’s house was several miles away, and when her father couldn’t pick her up, she took the bus home.

  The strip mall offered a few other shops. There were a shoe store, an electronics store, a supermarket, and a recently opened jewelry store. When the girls saw Veronica approaching them, they knew there was only one reason she’d be there, and it certainly wasn’t to meet them—let alone catch the bus.