Stevie nodded thoughtfully. “Well, Max,” she said after a minute, “then you don’t need to come up with any chores for The Saddle Club.”
Max looked skeptical. “Oh, I don’t?”
“Nope, we’re going to be quite busy,” Stevie said cheerfully.
“I see. And may I ask exactly what you’ll be busy with?”
“You may ask, but”—Stevie paused dramatically—“unfortunately I won’t be able to answer.”
“I see,” Max said again, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Rest assured, however, that whatever it is we’re busy with is completely in line with all of the fundamentals of good horsemanship at Pine Hollow and in the greater equine universe beyond.” Stevie grinned, looking pleased with herself.
“What the heck did you just say?” Max asked.
“1 have absolutely no idea,” Stevie said.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Max asked, but fortunately for the girls, he didn’t seem to expect an answer.
“DON’T TOUCH THAT BOLOGNA!” Stevie’s brother Chad yelled. The girls had adjourned to the Lakes’ house to make plans. But first they had decided to satisfy their hunger. Unfortunately they had walked into the kitchen at the same moment that Chad, Michael, and Alex were satisfying their hunger. A mass of cold cuts, cheese, mayonnaise, mustard, lettuce, and tomatoes was spread out over the counter. The boys were eagerly cramming the food into pita pockets. Stevie had just attempted to filch a slice of bologna but had been caught in the act.
“I can’t even have one piece?” she demanded.
Chad shook his head. “No way. One piece will turn into two, and then there’ll be none left for us. Mom bought all this for us. Hear that? Us. Not you girls,” Chad said, plucking the bologna slice out of Stevie’s hand and shoving it into his mouth.
Carole and Lisa laughed. Stevie could get very angry at her brothers, and their antics were fun for outsiders to observe—as long as they stayed antics and didn’t develop into knock-down-drag-out family feuds.
Stevie stared at Chad with contempt. Then her eyes lit up. “All right, fine; we’ll skip the sandwiches and go right to dessert. I always was a fan of chocolate layer cake.” With that Stevie ran to the refrigerator and grabbed the cake she’d mentioned, jealously guarding it with her body.
“No fair! Alex, grab the cake!” Chad yelled.
Alex went toward Stevie, but at the last second she handed the cake off to Carole. “Victory!” Stevie yelled as Carole did her best to hold the cake over her head.
A few minutes later, the girls were happily munching sandwiches up in Stevie’s room, having exchanged half the cake for half the cold cuts with Stevie’s brothers.
“I always did like the idea of the barter system,” Stevie said, chewing contentedly.
“Yeah, but it’s lucky Veronica can’t barter Garnet away,” Lisa said. “She’d probably trade her for a new saddle pad!” While she was eating, Lisa had gotten a legal pad and a pencil out of her bag and was jotting down a few notes.
“What have you got there, Lisa?” Carole asked.
“1 was just trying to come up with ways we could advertise Garnet. Do you think we should run an ad in the local paper?” Lisa asked.
“Maybe as a last resort,” Carole said. “But I think the fastest, cheapest, and probably the best way is just to hang signs around town. We’ve got to get cracking right away: The Kingsleys’ vet could arrive any second, and we all know that Garnet isn’t going to fail the vet check.”
“You’ve got a point,” Stevie said. “And so many people in Willow Creek ride that I’d be surprised if we didn’t drum up some interest in a great horse like Garnet. You know what? I’ll get some posterboard and some markers, and we can do the signs this minute.”
“You have posterboard?” Lisa asked.
Stevie looked benevolently at her friend. “Lisa, darling, you must know by now that there’s nothing Stephanie Lake’s closet does not hold.”
Carole and Lisa laughed. Stevie’s closet was famous for being a bottomless pit of junk, but a lot of times the “junk” came in handy.
“So we just have to figure out how to get across what a great horse Garnet is, right?” Carole said.
Lisa nodded. “We’ve got to put in all the normal information you always see in ads,” she said, “like height, breed, color, and experience.” She scrawled on the pad for a minute. “Okay: Fifteen-point-one-hand purebred chestnut Arabian. That’s the easy stuff.”
“How about ‘Amazingly talented show horse ready to win’?” Stevie suggested.
“That sounds like Garnet is an Olympic show jumper,” Carole said flatly.
“I’m afraid I agree,” Lisa said.
Carole continued, “I was thinking of something more like ‘Has pony-clubbed successfully.’ ”
Stevie stood up from rummaging in the closet, posterboard and Magic Markers in hand. “Yeah, or: ‘Has pony-clubbed successfully while ridden by biggest pain in Willow Creek,’ ” she suggested.
Carole gave her a withering glance, but Stevie was on a roll. “Or how about ‘Attractive chestnut Arabian, formerly ridden by spoiled brat’?”
Lisa giggled. “ ‘For sale immediately: Horse that is too nice for present owner and desperate to escape!’ ”
“ ‘Wanted!’ ” Carole cried. “ ‘Anyone! Buy me now because nothing could be worse than belonging to Veronica diAngelo!’ ”
When they had finally stopped laughing and had gotten control of themselves again, Lisa made Carole and Stevie sit quietly while she thought. Then she recited the perfect description: “ ‘For sale: Attractive, fifteen-point-one-hand purebred chestnut Arabian. Has been shown and pony-clubbed successfully. Nice gaits, good jumper. Call the number below for more information.’ ”
When she was finished, Carole and Stevie clapped loudly. “I have just one question,” Carole said. “Whose number are we planning to give?”
Lisa chewed on her lip, thinking. “Well, we can’t give Veronica’s, can we?”
“No. The whole point of our trying to sell Garnet is that Veronica doesn’t care enough to find a good owner herself. If people start calling her, the diAngelos’ maid will probably answer and Veronica will never call them back,” Carole said.
“And we can’t give our numbers because we could be gone at school, so I guess it’ll have to be Pine Hollow’s,” Stevie reasoned.
“All right, Pine Hollow’s it is. We’ll have to keep Max informed,” Lisa reminded them.
“And tell him that we’d like to be the ones to show Garnet to the buyers,” Carole added.
It took the better part of an hour for the three of them to copy the information onto the sheets of posterboard. When they had finished, the signs looked good—colorful and eye-catching.
Before leaving to hang the signs up, Carole and Lisa called home to let their parents know where they were. Carole’s father told her Cam had called again.
“It was only about ten minutes ago,” Colonel Hanson said. “So if I were you, I’d call him back from Stevie’s. The poor guy has been trying to reach you for days.”
Carole grinned at her father’s sudden sympathy for Cam. She got the Nelsons’ number from her father and called Cam right away. To her relief, this time he answered.
“Cam!”
“Carole!”
“I can’t believe I actually got you,” Carole said.
“I know—me neither, but I’m glad you did. How’ve you been?”
“Good—I mean, fine. I can’t talk too long because I’m at my friend’s and we’re about to leave. But how about you? How’ve you been?”
There was a pause. Then Cam said, “I’ve been—I’ve been okay. Listen, I was hoping we could meet up this week. Are you free Monday afternoon? I have to ride first, but we could meet later.”
“Sure, I’m free. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. You pick,” Cam said.
Carole thought fast. “How about TD’s? We go there for
ice cream all the time—Stevie, Lisa, and I.”
“That sounds great. Four o’clock at TD’s, okay?” Cam asked.
“Four o’clock’s fine,” Carole replied. The two of them said their good-byes and hung up.
As soon as Carole put the receiver down, Stevie pounced. “Carole Hanson, did I hear the name ‘Cam’ in that phone call?”
Carole nodded, trying not to grin but failing. Even though Cam had sounded worried, she was thrilled to have a sort of date with him.
“And did I also hear TD’s mentioned—” Stevie began.
“Stevie,” Lisa interrupted, “how would you have heard Carole’s conversation? That is, unless you were eavesdropping.”
“Guilty as charged,” Stevie said sheepishly. “But—”
Carole put a hand up. “I’ll explain everything on the way.”
TOGETHER THE GIRLS walked to the center of Willow Creek. They hung signs in the feed store, the tack shop, TD’s; on a telephone pole; even on a park bench or two—anywhere they thought horsey people might see them. Carole explained the situation with Cam: that they had been playing phone tag and that he had sounded anxious when she spoke to him. Stevie and Lisa were sure Cam was just nervous about seeing her because he liked her.
“Anyway, everything will be clear on Monday afternoon, I guess,” Carole said.
Saving one sign for Pine Hollow’s bulletin board, the three of them headed home.
“We’ve done our best for Garnet,” Lisa said. “Now we can only cross our fingers and hope.”
AT NINE O’CLOCK Sunday morning, Stevie eagerly telephoned Carole, and they conference-called Lisa. “I just got off the phone with Max,” Stevie explained breathlessly. “Somebody already saw one of the signs we put up yesterday and wants to look at Garnet today. His father is bringing him over.”
“Great. And we’re supposed to show Garnet?” Carole asked.
“Yup. Max was thrilled to give us the job from now on,” Stevie replied.
“What about the Kingsleys? Have they been calling?” Lisa asked.
“So far, no. Max hasn’t heard from them. Who knows? Maybe they found an Arabian whose bloodlines could be traced back to the year five hundred B.C.,” Stevie joked. “Oh, wait, I forgot to tell you the catch: We have to have Garnet ready in an hour. Think we can do it?”
“I’ll be out the door in five minutes,” Carole promised.
“Whoever gets there first, start brushing,” Lisa said, hanging up the phone and reaching for her jeans.
WORKING AS FAST as they could, the three girls barely had time to give Garnet a quick brush and smooth a few tangles out of her mane. As Lisa gave Garnet’s hindquarters a final swipe with the rub rag, a small boy and his father came through the main door.
“Is this the horse we saw advertised in the ice cream parlor?” the man asked. Abruptly he pointed a finger at Garnet, who threw up her head in surprise.
“That’s right,” Lisa said. “This is Garnet. And who might you be?” she asked the little boy gently.
“I’m Jimmy Jones,” the boy squeaked out. He looked down at his boots shyly.
“Have you been riding for a while, Jimmy?” Lisa asked.
“That’s right,” Mr. Jones answered, before Jimmy could speak. “My son’s eight and he’s been taking lessons for a year now, haven’t you Jim?” He gave his son an encouraging pat on the back.
Jimmy nodded. “I love riding. In my lessons I ride a pony called Soda Pop. She’s a Shetland.”
“My wife and I want to get Jimmy a horse for his birthday, which is next week,” the father explained. “He’s wanted a horse for as long as I can remember.”
Lisa nodded and asked Jimmy if he would like to brush Garnet a little, but Jimmy hung back with his father.
Stevie and Carole exchanged glances. The situation was completely clear to them. Mr. Jones was well-meaning but knew nothing about horses. He wanted to make his son happy but obviously had no idea what kind of horse Jimmy needed. In fact, Jimmy didn’t need a horse at all: He needed a nice, docile pony to boost his confidence. And while Garnet was well trained, she was also spirited. She wouldn’t be above testing her rider to see if he could control her.
“This color is just the color horse that Jimmy wants,” Mr. Jones said cheerfully. He reached out a hand to pat Garnet on the nose, but Garnet laid her ears back and sidled away. “Hey, she’s got some spunk in her, doesn’t she? Good. I like a horse with vitality. What do you think, Jimmy?”
“She’s pretty,” Jimmy said quietly. “But she’s a lot bigger than Soda Pop.”
“The way you’re going to grow, you’ll need a bigger horse in no time,” Mr. Jones said.
While Lisa got Garnet saddled and bridled, Stevie and Carole conferred. “I’ll take it from here, Lisa,” Stevie said, extending a hand for Garnet’s reins.
Relieved, Lisa handed Garnet to Stevie. She’d been wondering what she could say that would tactfully convince Mr. Jones that Garnet was all wrong for Jimmy. Stevie’s confident tone made it obvious that she had a plan.
As soon as Stevie was mounted, it was clear what that plan was. Rather than trying to mask Garnet’s acting up, as Carole had for Katie Miller, Stevie was doing her best to make Garnet look truly awful. As she warmed up, she gave Garnet a jab with her outside leg and acted surprised when Garnet bolted into a canter. Then she pretended that she couldn’t get Garnet to slow down. “Whoa! Whoa!” she yelled, sitting back in the saddle and letting her reins flap.
Meanwhile, Lisa and Carole stood on either side of the boy’s father and hammed it up. It was basically the same routine they had gone through with Henrietta, only they were more obnoxious this time because the boy’s safety was at stake. “Wow, can this horse be terrible,” Lisa said, pretending to address Carole but speaking across Mr. Jones.
“It’s too bad that with so many people coming to look at her, nobody wants to buy her,” Carole said.
“Well, if you got bucked off and trampled on, would you want to buy the horse?” Lisa demanded. “Anyway, looks like Stevie’s got her going perfectly today.”
As they looked out at the ring, Stevie headed Garnet toward a small jump. At the last minute she clearly told the horse to stop. Garnet slammed on the brakes, and Stevie fell onto her neck, shrieking. “This stupid horse! She never wants to jump!”
Carole and Lisa held their breaths, praying that the Joneses hadn’t noticed Stevie’s checking Garnet right before the jump.
“Didn’t you advertise this horse as a good jumper?” Mr. Jones asked, sounding annoyed.
Lisa nodded. “Oh, she is a good jumper! Every few weeks when somebody actually gets her over a fence, she jumps it really well!”
That was the last straw for Mr. Jones. Taking his son by the hand, he thanked the girls—barely—and turned to go. “I don’t want to buy my son a horse that won’t jump. Jimmy needs a real performance animal, not some stable nag.”
“Wait!” Carole called, running after them. She reached in her pocket, scribbled on a piece of paper, and handed it to Mr. Jones. Then she rejoined Lisa and Stevie.
“What did you give him?” Lisa asked.
“The name of a woman in the next town over who breeds Shetland and Welsh ponies—the kind of ‘performance animal’ Jimmy needs,” Carole explained.
“Well, that makes me feel a little better,” Stevie said. She gave Garnet an apologetic pat on the neck. “At least the day wasn’t a total loss.”
“But it was strike two for us trying to sell Garnet. We just have to find a buyer before the Kingsleys’ vet gets here!” Lisa said.
THE SIGNS THAT The Saddle Club had put up were obviously doing their job. Monday afternoon after school the girls had another appointment with a potential buyer. Hurrying over to Pine Hollow, Carole hoped that the woman would be right for Garnet, but she was also distracted. Today was her TD’s meeting with Cam, and she could hardly wait.
The minute she saw Lisa and Stevie getting Garnet ready, however, all thoughts of Cam
fled her mind. Standing beside them was the tallest, fattest woman Carole had ever seen. The woman’s hair was dyed a vivid red, and her fingernails were about three inches long and painted green. Next to the woman, Garnet looked like a ten-hand pony.
Regaining her composure, Carole went up to greet the woman and shake hands. “Pleased to meet you, honey,” the woman said. “I’m Rose Marie Ambrosia Lee.”
Before Carole could say hello, Rose Marie continued, “I was just telling your friends how thrilled I was to see the ad for this horse. You see, I’m looking for a new horse to ride in my costume parades.”
“Costume parades?” Carole repeated. Lisa, Stevie, and Rose Marie all nodded.
“That’s right. She dresses up like a Southern belle,” Stevie said. Although she tried to make her voice sound normal, Carole could tell that Stevie was in as much shock as she was at the sight of the woman.
“I dress up like a Southern belle, you know antebellum, like. I wear a big hoopskirt and a hat with plumes and flowers—big plumes and flowers—and I decorate the horse to match my outfit. I’ve got lots of horse-rider combos that are just beautiful. There’s my yellow Belle of the Bali outfit and of course my Scarlett O’Hara …”
As Rose Marie chatted, the girls groomed. Whenever two of them were on Garnet’s off side, partially hidden from view, they would exchange horrified looks. The whole thing sounded frightening.
“… anyway, my last horse, poor thing, I had to sell him at auction because he developed chronic back problems.”
“At auction?” Carole mouthed to the others. Only people who didn’t care at all about where their horses ended up sold them at auctions.
“How big a horse was he?” Stevie asked, fearing the worst.
“Oh, he was about the size of this here little ole dainty Arab. I always do like nice, dainty Arabs,” Rose Marie said, smiling.
“Right, right,” Stevie said. “Umm … listen, why don’t you get better acquainted with Garnet while we get her tack, okay?”
Stable Farewell Page 5