TIME FOR A REAL ADVENTURE
Something caught Stevie’s eye over Phil’s shoulder. On a sale table near the cash register was a display of trip journals—little red plaid books of blank pages to write on. “Hey!” she cried. “I’ve got a great idea! Let’s each get one of these and keep a diary of our trip. Then, when we get back home, we can share them with each other. It’ll be like writing one long letter full of all the interesting stuff we might forget.”
“That is a great idea.” Phil turned around and grabbed two journals off the shelf. He handed one to her. “One for you and one for me. That way I’ll learn all about the Oregon Trail and you’ll learn all about white-water rafting. It’s almost like going on two vacations.”
“Well, almost, but not quite.” Stevie laughed. “Look, I’ve got to go. I hope you have a wonderful trip, Phil.”
Phil gave her a gentle smile. “Same here, Stevie. I’ll call you as soon as I get back to town.” He waved to Lisa and Carole. “Have a great vacation! I’m sure the Oregon Trail will never be the same!”
RL 5, 009–012
WAGON TRAIL
A Bantam Skylark Book/August 1998
Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.
“The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller. The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books.
“USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of The United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1998 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.
eISBN: 978-0-307-82582-7
Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada.
* * *
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.
* * *
v3.1
I would like to express my special thanks
to Sallie Bissell for her help
in the writing of this book.
Thanks also to Ellen Levine,
who helped me find the trail.
—B.B.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Excerpt from Pine Hollow #1: The Long Ride
About the Author
“WHEW!” STEVIE LAKE unbuckled her riding helmet and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “I don’t think I’ve ever gone over so many cavalletti in one hour. I was beginning to feel like a Mexican jumping bean.”
Carole Hanson smiled as she clipped her horse, Starlight, to a set of cross-ties. “I know what you mean, Stevie. But just think. If you feel like a Mexican jumping bean, then these horses must feel like kangaroos!”
“I vote that we rub them down and then cool ourselves off over at TD’s with an ice cream,” suggested Lisa Atwood, running a dandy brush over Prancer’s damp withers.
“That’s a great idea!” Stevie said. “I’m amazed I didn’t think of it first.”
“Actually, Stevie, we’re amazed you didn’t think of it first, too,” Carole laughed.
The girls continued to groom their horses. Stevie loosened Belle’s leg wraps while Carole and Lisa gave Starlight and Prancer a good brushing.
“You know, it’s too bad Max doesn’t have one of those electronic horse groomers,” Stevie said as she brushed Belle’s thick mane.
“An electronic horse groomer?” Lisa frowned.
“Yeah. Remember that thing Judy used on Danny? It looked like a little vacuum cleaner,” explained Stevie.
“Oh, right,” said Carole. “But I can’t help wondering how the horse feels about being treated like a piece of carpet.”
“I don’t know,” Stevie said, chuckling. “But Judy loved it! And Danny didn’t seem to mind.”
“There you three are!” A woman’s excited voice rang out from the far end of the stable.
The girls turned. Deborah Hale, Max Regnery’s wife, hurried toward them, their baby girl, Maxi, in her arms. “Max said you had just finished the advanced jumps class and were probably on your way to TD’s. I’m so glad I caught you!”
“What’s up, Deborah?” Lisa shot a puzzled glance at Stevie and Carole.
Deborah spoke in a rush. “I just got a call from Bart Charles, an editor down at the paper. He wants me to write a feature article, but first I need to go into the city to meet with him this afternoon. I can’t take Maxi with me, and Max has three private lessons this afternoon, so I was wondering if you girls could help me out and sit with Maxi.” She looked at The Saddle Club pleadingly.
“Sure.” Carole answered for all of them without hesitation. “We’d be glad to.”
“After all, that’s what The Saddle Club is for—to help each other out whenever we need it.” Stevie grinned. “And, Deborah, you and Maxi and Max are all honorary Saddle Club members.”
“Wonderful,” Deborah said with relief. “I’ll go home and get ready. You guys come on over when you finish with your horses. Maxi and I will be waiting.” Smiling happily, she hurried with Maxi out of the cool, dark stable and into the bright summer day.
After the girls finished grooming their horses, they put them back in their stalls with an extra armload of hay and walked over to the white clapboard farmhouse where Max and Deborah lived. It was up a slight hill just behind the stable. Deborah and Maxi were sitting in the wide porch swing, waiting for them.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” Deborah smiled. She’d changed out of her jeans and was wearing a blue business suit that matched her eyes.
“It’ll be fun,” said Lisa.
“Well, just remember, Maxi’s crawling now, and anything she can pick up goes immediately into her mouth. She ought to be ready for her nap in a little while, so this should be pretty easy baby-sitting. If you have any problems, though, just run down to the stable. Max and Mrs. Reg are both there and can help in an emergency.” Deborah handed Maxi to Carole and checked her watch. “I’ve got to go! Thanks so much, girls. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“Good luck!” Stevie called as Deborah ran to her car. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Ouch, Maxi! Let go!” Carole yelped. Maxi had grabbed one of Carole’s small stirrup-shaped earrings and was trying to put it into her mouth. “I need that ear for the rest of summer vacation!”
“Come to Aunt Stevie, Maxi.” Stevie held out her arms and tried to distract the baby from Carole’s ear. Maxi gurgled, let go of the earring, and allowed Stevie to take her. Stevie began walking her up and down the porch, but stopped when Maxi grabbed a fistful of her long honey blond hair.
“Ow, Maxi!” Stevie cried. “That hair was attached to my head!” Maxi
giggled and pulled even harder.
“Why don’t we put her in her playpen?” Lisa suggested. “Deborah said it was almost time for her nap.”
“Good idea,” said Stevie, wincing with pain as Maxi yanked another handful of hair. “Otherwise I might wind up bald.”
Lisa held the door open while Stevie carried Maxi into the house. Her playpen was set up in the living room. After Carole cleared it of a stuffed Big Bird and a plastic ball, Stevie laid Maxi down on her stomach. Immediately the baby rolled over and sat up, but Stevie and Lisa and Carole had already begun to tiptoe toward the kitchen.
“It’s time for you to take a nap now, Maxi,” Carole whispered as Maxi blinked. “Don’t worry. We’ll be right in here.”
The girls gently closed the door and sat down at the kitchen table.
“How can we tell what’s she doing in there if we’re sitting in here?” Stevie frowned with concern.
“Haven’t you ever seen one of these?” Lisa switched on a white plastic box that looked like a small radio.
“No,” replied Stevie. “I don’t baby-sit all that much. My last job was feeding Mrs. Perkins’s parakeets.”
Lisa smiled. “Well, this is even better than an electronic horse groomer. This is a baby monitor.” She turned the dial. “Listen.”
The girls bent over and listened to the monitor. They heard a slight rustling noise.
“Sounds like she might be getting comfortable to go to sleep,” said Carole. “I wish my CD player sounded that clear.”
“I wish my CD-ROM sounded like anything at all,” complained Stevie. “I was up to the final level of that game Squelch when stupid Chad crashed the hard drive. Now the only thing the computer can say is ‘You have performed an illegal operation.…’ ”
“Shhh!” Lisa said suddenly. “Listen.”
The girls leaned over the monitor again. The gentle rustling noise had stopped. They heard a little chirp, then a louder whimper, and then a full-fledged cry.
“Come on,” Lisa said as she got up from her chair. “Let’s go calm her down and maybe we can get her to go to sleep.”
The girls trooped back into the living room. Maxi was sitting up in her playpen, huge tears rolling down her cheeks. She lifted her arms to be picked up.
“Poor baby Maxi,” Lisa said as she scooped up the child. “Let’s put you in your chair swing and see if that makes you sleepy.”
Lisa buckled Maxi into her swing while Stevie wound the motor.
“You know about chair swings, Stevie?” Carole asked with a laugh.
“Sure I do,” replied Stevie. “My mom just sold my old one at a garage sale.”
The girls sat and watched as the swing rocked Maxi back and forth. Slowly her eyelids began to droop, but then, as soon as she realized she was falling asleep, she jerked her head up and began to cry all over again.
“I don’t think the swing is working,” said Stevie as Maxi’s sobs grew louder.
“Maybe some music would help,” Carole suggested. She jumped up and began thumbing through some CDs that were stacked on a bookcase. She pulled one from the pile. “Here’s a good one. Beethoven, Bach, and the Glorious Sounds of Nature.”
Carole put the CD into the player and turned up the volume. Suddenly the room was filled with a pipe organ blaring through the sounds of a summer storm. Maxi jumped straight up at the first clap of thunder and then started yowling more loudly than ever.
“Cut the music!” Lisa said, wide-eyed. “It’s scaring her to death!” She unbuckled Maxi from the chair swing and held her in her arms. Maxi’s face was red with rage, and she was hiccuping as well as crying. Lisa frowned at Stevie and Carole. “Don’t just stand there! Think of something we can do to calm her down!”
“I know!” Stevie cried. “Let’s show her a video!” She knelt down in front of the TV and rummaged through a stack of videotapes. “Here’s one!” she said. “Cartoons. That should work fine.”
Stevie slid the tape into the VCR, and with Lisa holding Maxi, they all huddled in front of the TV to watch. Maxi quit crying as a pink elephant waltzed across the screen, but instead of growing sleepy, she started laughing and clapping her hands.
After a few minutes of the elephant’s dance, Stevie looked over at Maxi. The baby’s eyes were clear and bright. “This tape is great for cheering her up,” she said, “but it sure isn’t helping to put her to sleep.”
They were watching another video when the front door opened. Deborah appeared in the living room, little wisps of red hair escaping from the bun at the base of her neck. “Hi, everybody,” she called. “How’s it going?”
The Saddle Club and Maxi rose from in front of the TV.
“Deborah!” Stevie said as Maxi held out her arms to her mother. “We’re so glad you’re back.”
Deborah laughed and grinned at Maxi. “Are you having too much fun to take a nap, sugar?” she asked. She held Maxi close for a moment and smiled at her frazzled-looking baby-sitters. “Why don’t you girls get something to eat? There’s pizza in the freezer. Nuke it in the microwave while I take Maxi to her room and see if I can get her to sleep.”
Deborah whirled Maxi down the hall while The Saddle Club retreated to the kitchen. By the time they had microwaved the pizza, Deborah had returned. “There,” she said as she switched the baby monitor from the living room to Maxi’s room. “She’s sleeping like the proverbial baby.”
“You’re kidding.” Stevie almost dropped the slice of pizza that was halfway to her mouth.
“No.” Deborah smiled. “She seemed glad to get into her little crib.”
“We tried to get her to sleep,” Lisa explained as Deborah opened a big bottle of soda for everyone, “but nothing seemed to help.”
“Right,” said Carole. “We tried the baby swing, the Beethoven CD, and finally cartoons. We were about to run out of stuff to try.”
“Since they’ve got electronic horse groomers, what they need to invent now is an electronic baby soother,” Stevie said. “Life is tough enough without having to deal with all that crying.”
Deborah shook her head and chuckled.
“What so funny?” cried Stevie. “I think a baby-soothing machine is a great idea!”
“Oh, it is, Stevie.” Deborah nodded. “It just reminded me of the meeting I was in.”
“Oh?” said Carole. “What was your meeting about?”
“About doing an article on the pioneers who crossed the prairies in covered wagons. If you think things are tough without a baby-soothing machine, you should have seen what traveling with a baby was like over a hundred years ago.”
“That’s true, but what’s the big deal?” said Stevie. “I mean, that’s the way people had to live back then. Today we’ve got computers and microwaves and televisions.”
Deborah took some pizza for herself. “Actually, we still do have covered wagons today. I just met with the travel editor of my paper. He wants me to fly out West and go on a wagon train reenactment, then write an article about it.”
“Neat,” said Carole.
Deborah chewed her pizza thoughtfully. “Somebody recommended me, because they figured Max Regnery’s wife must know a lot about horses. On the way home I decided that I should probably turn this assignment down, because my background isn’t in horses, but maybe I was too hasty. After all, it’s not important for me to be savvy about animals and the environment, as long as I’m with someone who is.”
“Yes,” Lisa said. “Max knows a lot about animals.”
Deborah grinned at the girls. “Actually, I wasn’t thinking about Max. He can’t take time away from the stable right now. I was thinking about you guys. How would The Saddle Club like to go West? You know all about horses. It’s a weeklong trip, and the newspaper will pay for a family of four. Maxi’s too young to go, but I’ve got plenty of time to line up a baby-sitter. Sound like anything you’d be interested in?”
“Oh, boy!” cried Stevie. “Would we ever!”
“Count me in,” Carole add
ed with a grin. “I’d love to see if I’m as tough as the old trailblazers.”
“I’d love to go, too,” said Lisa. “But the toughest trail I’ll have to blaze will be convincing my mother to let me be a modern-day pioneer.”
“THIS SHOULD BE IT!” Stevie cried as she lunged across her bed to answer the phone for the fifteenth time that night. After The Saddle Club had left Deborah and Maxi, each girl had scurried home to ask her parents’ permission to go on the wagon train reenactment. There had been flurries of phone calls among Deborah, the Hansons, the Atwoods, and the Lakes. Slowly, the details were explained and the permissions were granted. Carole could go. Stevie could go. But they were still waiting to hear from the last holdout, Mrs. Atwood.
“Oh, please say she said yes,” Stevie said into the phone without bothering to say hello.
“She said yes!” Lisa’s voice came through the receiver. “It took some real convincing, but she finally said okay.”
“All right!” cried Stevie. “Now The Saddle Club can go on the Oregon Trail!”
“Won’t it be fun?” replied Lisa. “I can hardly wait. I’ve got so much to do I’d better get off the phone. It seems like I’ve been talking all night.”
“I know what you mean.” Stevie massaged her left ear. “I’ve got lots to do, too. I’ll call you first thing tomorrow.”
Stevie hung up the phone, tired of talking but glad that both her best friends were going out West with her. It would be their best vacation ever. She leaped off her bed. A trip down the Oregon Trail was something she could really gloat about in front of Chad. She had just opened her bedroom door to go find him when the phone rang again.
“Oh, please!” she said as she leaped onto the bed again. “Hello?” she answered hurriedly.
A husky, nonfemale voice came over the phone. “Hi, Stevie. This is Phil.”
“Oh, hi, Phil,” Stevie replied more softly. “How are you?”
“I’m good. What on earth is going on? Your line’s been busy for hours.”
Wagon Trail Page 1