Stable Farewell

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Stable Farewell Page 4

by Bonnie Bryant


  “He’s hard to take your eyes off, isn’t he?” Veronica asked, standing up after the last hoof.

  The three of them nodded blankly. Carole was the first to find her voice. “Don’t you want to know how things went with Katie Miller yesterday?” she asked.

  Veronica shrugged. “Sure, why don’t you tell me?” she said.

  Carole took a deep breath to keep herself from yelling at Veronica. Trying to make herself sound calm, she explained, “Actually, Katie really liked Garnet, and she’d be a great owner for her. She’s a good rider and she wants to do a lot of trail riding. But Garnet was so keyed up, since she hadn’t been ridden for so long, that Katie’s parents didn’t think she’d be safe for their daughter, so they’re going to think about it for a while and look at some other horses.”

  “And it didn’t help that Garnet looked like a complete mess,” Lisa added dryly.

  Veronica surveyed Danny’s gray coat and rubbed at an imaginary spot with a cotton cloth. Finally she turned to The Saddle Club. “Is that all?”

  Once again the girls nodded, speechless.

  Veronica smiled. “Good, because it doesn’t matter if that Katie whatever-her-name-was didn’t want Garnet. The absolute perfect buyer is coming this afternoon—any minute now. Her name is Henrietta Kingsley. You’ve heard of the Kingsleys, haven’t you?” she asked.

  Stevie and Carole shook their heads, but Lisa nodded. Her mother made it her business to keep tabs on a lot of “social” people. “The Kingsleys are big financial powers in Washington, D.C.,” she explained.

  “Correct,” Veronica said. “Daddy does business with them all the time, and when he told them about my purebred mare being for sale … well, it sounded like the perfect match for Henrietta. She’s only been riding for six weeks, but Mother says she’s really quite accomplished.”

  “Six weeks?” Lisa repeated. She was amazed that anyone would buy a horse after so short a time. She knew that six weeks after she had started riding, she certainly hadn’t been ready to own a horse. She wasn’t even sure she was ready to own one now. Before she could say anything more to Veronica, a car’s wheels crunched on the gravel outside.

  “That must be Henrietta!” Veronica squealed. She put Danny away and ran out to greet the Kingsleys. Carole, Lisa, and Stevie followed at a safe distance, curious to see the great Henrietta who was ready for her own horse after six weeks.

  A huge, shiny Rolls-Royce had pulled up in the driveway. It was even bigger and shinier than Veronica’s chauffeur-driven car. The Kingsleys’ chauffeur—who was even taller and grander than Veronica’s chauffeur—emerged from the driver’s seat to help his passengers out. Henrietta and her mother got out, and both of them screeched and rushed toward Veronica, exchanging air kisses.

  The Kingsley women were a commanding presence. They were tall, they were large, and they were loud. Mrs. Kingsley was wearing a full-length fur coat; a fur hat; a pair of long, black gloves; and high-heeled boots. But Henrietta was the real spectacle. The Saddle Club was used to Veronica’s high-priced riding gear, but Henrietta obviously took everything a step further. She looked totally inappropriate for an everyday ride, in white breeches, a yellow vest, patent-leather-topped hunting boots, a stock tie, and, unbelievably, a shadbelly coat like the ones worn by Grand Prix dressage riders.

  “Isn’t that, like, illegal?” Lisa whispered, gaping.

  Carole and Stevie giggled. “Not exactly illegal,” Carole said. “But it’s one of the grossest displays of money and ignorance that I’ve ever seen.”

  “We’ll see how ‘accomplished’ she is,” Stevie said darkly.

  “Anyway,” Mrs. Kingsley was saying—or rather, yelling, which, as Carole pointed out, was a more accurate word—“we want only the best for Henrietta. She’s quite taken with riding, and Mr. Kingsley and I believe she has natural talent. You should see the way horses just love my daughter from the moment they see her. It’s really quite beautiful.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it is,” Veronica said with a sickening smile. “I’ve heard what a great rider she is after only six weeks.”

  “Daddy said I could get two or three horses if I want. Didn’t he, Mother?” Henrietta demanded.

  “Of course, dear, whatever you want, you shall have,” said Mrs. Kingsley.

  “Boy, Henrietta, you’re sure lucky to have such nice parents,” Veronica said.

  The Saddle Club looked at one another in disgust. “I think I’m going to be sick,” Stevie muttered. If there was anything more nauseating than Veronica being her normal self, it was Veronica kissing up to people who were richer and more important than she was.

  “You can’t be,” Carole said sternly, “or you won’t be able to watch Henrietta try to ride.”

  “Do you think she’ll even want to get on once she sees Garnet?” Lisa asked, following the group inside.

  When they reached Garnet’s stall, Stevie went up to Veronica and gave her a wide-eyed look of amazement. “Wow, Veronica, I’ve never seen Garnet looking so nice!” she said in wonder.

  Carole and Lisa practically fell over backward. Despite having been groomed the day before, Garnet still looked scraggly. With all the time she had spent fussing over Danny, Veronica still hadn’t managed to brush her, trim her whiskers, or pull her mane. After a second’s thought—and a glance at Stevie’s mischievous grin—Carole and Lisa caught on: Stevie was trying to scare the Kingsleys off. Immediately they joined in.

  “She does look good,” Carole said. “Not bad for a horse who’s so second-rate compared to Danny.”

  Lisa pretended to admire Garnet and then asked, as if she had just noticed it, “Hey, you guys, look at the chewed wood on her stall. Isn’t that a sign of cribbing?”

  “Yes, it is,” Carole replied. “And cribbing can be so dangerous. It can cause colic and all kinds of problems.”

  “Well, you know what they say: One vice leads to another. It looks like Garnet’s been pacing in her stall. Look at that rut in the front,” Stevie added cheerfully.

  Unfortunately, the Kingsleys seemed more confused than alarmed by what the girls were saying. Veronica gave the three of them a dirty look and said loudly, “Mrs. Kingsley, Henrietta, I know you’re interested in breeding, and I wanted to let you know that Garnet’s bloodlines can be traced back eight generations without missing a horse, in a straight line to horses owned by the sultans of Arabia.”

  “That’s just what we wanted to hear,” Mrs. Kingsley announced. “Now hurry up and put that saddle on so we can see her in action, will you?”

  FASTER THAN THE Saddle Club could believe, Veronica had Garnet tacked up and in the indoor ring. It was clear that the mare was as fresh and flighty as the day before. She danced at the end of the reins before Veronica quieted her long enough to get on, then shied and broke into a trot at once.

  Standing with the Kingsleys at the edge of the ring, Carole tried again. “Boy, Garnet’s behaving well today. She’s usually much worse.”

  Henrietta sneered. “It’s nothing a good crop and spurs won’t fix,” she said.

  “Quite right, darling! Discipline is the key! You’ll have her behaving in no time,” Mrs. Kingsley bellowed.

  “What? Did someone say something?” Veronica called. She was cantering haphazardly around the ring.

  The Kingsleys ignored her. Henrietta turned to Stevie, Lisa, and Carole. “Look, I don’t want to tell your boss that you’re slouching on the job, so why don’t you make yourselves useful and give these boots a shine?” Henrietta stuck out a foot to be polished.

  “We’re not—” Carole started to protest, but Stevie elbowed her.

  “This is too good to miss,” she whispered. She whipped a towel out of her back pocket, knelt down, and spit all over Henrietta’s boots. “Spit and polish still make the best shine,” Stevie murmured. Lisa’s hand flew up to her mouth as she stifled a giggle.

  Eventually Veronica rode over to speak to the Kingsleys. She was panting and red in the face from trying to control G
arnet. “All right, Henrietta. I’ve got her nice and warmed up, so why don’t I give you a leg up?”

  “I can hardly wait,” Stevie whispered wickedly.

  Henrietta looked up from consulting with her mother. “Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’ve decided that I don’t need to ride Garnet myself. Just have those copies of the bloodlines sent over in the morning, all right?”

  “S-sure, I mean, of course I will,” Veronica answered, taken aback.

  “All right. So I guess she’s mine, right, Mother?”

  Mrs. Kingsley huffed and puffed a bit. “Now, don’t get overexcited, dear. We can’t consider the animal yours until she’s got a definite seal of approval from Grandmama’s veterinarian.” The older woman turned to The Saddle Club. “I’ll have the man flown up from the racing stable in Kentucky as soon as possible. If the horse passes inspection, we’ll take her. Otherwise, no deal.”

  Stevie, Lisa, and Carole gaped at the Kingsleys. The vet check was totally reasonable, of course. But never, in all of their years of riding, had they ever heard of anyone buying a horse without trying it. It was stupid, it was insane—and it was just the kind of thing you’d expect from Veronica diAngelo’s “perfect buyers.”

  “BUT I LIKED the part when the man saved her from drowning,” Carole protested. It was Friday night and she and her father were just coming home from seeing an Alfred Hitchcock movie called Vertigo.

  “I guess you’re just a sucker for the romantic touch,” Colonel Hanson kidded.

  Carole tried to give him a withering look but ruined it by running to the answering machine to check for messages. She still hadn’t succeeded in actually talking to Cam. He had called when she was out and vice versa. Sure enough, there was a message tonight. Carole turned the volume up as soon as she heard Cam’s voice. Was it her imagination or did he sound kind of upset?

  “Hi, Carole, it’s Cam calling,” the message said. “Listen, I really need to see you—to talk to you—so I hope we’ll catch up with each other soon. I’ll keep trying.… I guess that’s all. Okay, bye.”

  Carole played the message again to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Cam definitely sounded strange—upset or worried, maybe. It could be that he was just disappointed that they couldn’t seem to connect. The annoying thing was that it was too late to call back now. Puzzling over the tone of the message, Carole brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. She drifted off to sleep thinking sweet thoughts about Cam.

  THE NEXT MORNING Carole was almost late for the unmounted Horse Wise meeting at Pine Hollow. Horse Wise was the name of the Pony Club the girls belonged to. Its home base was Pine Hollow.

  Carole had left the house on time, but then she remembered Cam’s message and ran back to call him, leaving her father waiting in the car. This time she got the Nelsons’ machine and left word for Cam to call her. Frustrated, she stared out the window on the way over to Pine Hollow. It seemed as if she and Cam were fated never to talk to each other again.

  “Cheer up, honey. You’ll get in touch with him soon,” Colonel Hanson said as he dropped her off.

  Carole shook her head, smiling. Her father was as much of a mind reader as ever. Hurrying into the stable, she slipped in between Lisa and Stevie just as the meeting was starting.

  Max had decided to have the Pony Clubbers themselves give presentations at the unmounted meetings because they would learn more that way. Today Polly Giacomin and Jackie were presenting a talk on winter grooming and horse care. They introduced the topic and then moved on to clipping.

  “The decision to clip your horse depends on a lot of different things,” Polly said. “Like, are you going to be riding a lot, is your horse kept inside or turned out, and do you want to keep the horse blanketed.” While Jackie held up drawings of the different kinds of clips, Polly described them. “There’s the full clip, when the whole coat is removed. Then there’s the hunter clip, which is the whole coat minus the legs and a patch where the saddle goes. And then there’s another kind called the blanket clip, which is just what it sounds like: You leave the hair on where a blanket would go and clip only the neck and belly.” Polly paused to ask if there were any questions.

  Stevie put her hand up. “I have one question. It’s not exactly about clipping, it’s about trimming.”

  “That’s okay, what is it?” Jackie asked.

  Looking first at Veronica and then back at Polly and Jackie, Stevie said, “I was wondering if you should keep a horse’s whiskers trimmed even in the winter.”

  “Of course,” Jackie said. “Unless you don’t care at all about the horse’s appearance, you should always keep the whiskers on the muzzle and around the ears trimmed.”

  Stevie nodded. “Okay, thanks. I just wanted to make sure.”

  Lisa and Carole knew exactly what Stevie was doing, but Veronica seemed oblivious. “We’ll help,” Lisa whispered.

  “The next winter topic is blanketing. If you clip your horse, and a lot of times even if you don’t, you’ll want to keep him blanketed. The blanket can be anything from a light stable sheet to a heavy New Zealand rug with a liner,” Jackie explained.

  “That’s right,” Polly said. “And it’s very important to know how to put the blanket on correctly and how to check to see if it’s rubbing anywhere—”

  “Excuse me,” Lisa interrupted. “Isn’t it also important to check to make sure the blanket stays put? Can’t a twisted sheet be annoying for the horse?”

  “Absolutely. And not only annoying, it can be dangerous. If the horse gets a leg caught in one of the straps, he could panic,” Polly said.

  Satisfied, The Saddle Club looked at Veronica. But she still hadn’t noticed that they were making digs at her care of Garnet. Suddenly she raised her hand. “Polly, I just thought of something. You should mention that for a really well-bred, high-strung horse like Danny, you should buy the best-quality blankets only. His coat is so fine that anything cheap would irritate him.”

  “By ‘best-quality’ she probably means a blanket with a huge ‘Veronica diAngelo’ monogram on it,” Stevie muttered. Veronica was known for having every last item, from her blankets and saddle pads to her body brushes, monogrammed.

  Thinking she would jump in while Veronica was paying attention to the meeting, Carole said loudly, “Didn’t you mention something about turning your horse out even in the winter? Why is that important?” Out of the corner of her eye Carole saw Max, who’d been listening at the side of the room, raise his eyebrows. He was obviously surprised that Carole had asked such an easy question.

  “We were just about to get to that,” Jackie replied. “If your horse is kept inside, it’s very important to turn him out or exercise him regularly. There are a lot of reasons why. One is so that he doesn’t get bored and develop vices—”

  “You mean like cribbing and stall walking?” Stevie fairly shouted.

  At Stevie’s comment, The Saddle Club saw Max’s eyes narrow as he, too, glanced at Veronica. But even though he had caught on to what the three of them were doing, Veronica had not. She sat more quietly than usual for the rest of the presentation, interrupting every so often to point out how perfectly she was taking care of Danny.

  “The thing is, it’s true,” Carole murmured. “She does groom him and ride him every day. We’ve seen her!”

  “Yeah. The more Daddy pays, the more time the horse deserves,” said Stevie.

  “While Garnet goes stale in her stall,” Lisa added. “It’s not fair!”

  “So let’s stop complaining and do something about it, okay?” Carole asked.

  Stevie and Lisa nodded vigorously. So far they had done nothing to help Garnet—except show her to the perfect buyer and watch the perfect buyer walk away.

  AS SOON AS Polly and Jackie brought the lesson to a close, The Saddle Club rose and headed to the locker room to discuss Garnet.

  “The way I see it, we just have to find another Katie Miller,” Stevie said.

  “Right. Someone who deserves to own Garnet and
will take good care of her and appreciate her,” Carole chimed in.

  “Appreciate her? All that horse needs is a little discipline. A crop and spurs would do the trick,” Lisa said in her best imitation of Henrietta Kingsley.

  “Henrietta doesn’t deserve a horse at all, let alone a nice one like Garnet,” Stevie said.

  Carole nodded. “I’ll bet she isn’t even a good rider. Why else wouldn’t she have wanted to get on and try Garnet when she had the chance?”

  “Easy,” Stevie replied. “She suffers from Veronicitis. That’s when you think that if you spend enough money on your horse and your clothes, not knowing how to ride won’t matter.”

  “That’s the whole problem,” said Lisa. “We can’t go to Veronica and tell her why Katie would make a better owner than Henrietta, because all Veronica cares about is selling her horse to the rich and famous Kingsleys.”

  “And even if we could somehow convince Veronica, Katie’s parents probably wouldn’t let her buy Garnet anyway,” Carole pointed out.

  “But there are probably tons of other girls like Katie who would love to get Garnet …” Stevie let her voice trail off as she thought hard of the people she knew who rode. Finally she shook her head. “It’s just, how do we find the tons of other girls?”

  Stevie paused as Max knocked, then poked his head into the locker room. “I thought I heard talking—lucky for you I already asked the other Pony Clubbers to clean out the cobwebs from the rafters,” he said.

  “Say, Max,” Stevie said before Max could think up another task, “do you know where the diAngelos have advertised Garnet?”

  Looking slightly surprised by the question, Max told them he didn’t think Garnet was advertised anywhere. “Other than the sign by the office, that is. The Kingsleys found out about Garnet through Mr. Kingsley’s business connection with Veronica’s father. Katie Miller heard about Garnet through a friend of hers who rides here. So I assume the diAngelos are relying on word of mouth.”

 

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