“It’ll be fun! I can’t wait to start, can you? Why don’t I come over tomorrow morning?”
“I don’t know about that, Lisa …” Stevie thought fast and came up with the perfect excuse. “Shouldn’t we ride tomorrow morning?” she proposed.
“We can ride afterward—after the training session. In the afternoon if we have to.”
“Is that when you rode today?” Stevie asked suddenly. “In the afternoon?”
“Why?” Lisa said warily. “Did you ride in the morning?”
“No. Remember? I was worn out from racing Alex.”
“Well, I, uh, had a lot to do—homework, thank-you notes …”
“So you went in the afternoon?” Stevie repeated.
There was a pause at the other end. “All right, if you have to know, I didn’t ride today, okay? Maybe it seems—”
“I didn’t ride, either!” Stevie interrupted.
“You didn’t?” said Lisa.
“Uh-uh. I, uh, had a lot of shows to watch.”
Lisa laughed. “I went to TD’s with my mom,” she confessed.
“TD’s!” Stevie exclaimed. “Without us?” The ice cream parlor was a favorite Saddle Club hangout.
Lisa laughed. “Sorry. Hey, let’s conference-call Carole and see if she went to Pine Hollow.”
“Are you kidding? Of course she went,” Stevie said.
“You’re probably right,” agreed Lisa.
Stevie put Lisa on hold and dialed the Hansons’ house. Sure enough, Colonel Hanson answered and said Carole wasn’t home yet.
“Thanks,” said Stevie. “I’ll try her later.”
“Naturally,” said Lisa when Stevie told her. “She’s probably helping Red muck out.”
There was a silence. Each girl knew what the other was thinking. They ought to have gone to Pine Hollow, not only to ride but to help Red and Mrs. Reg with the stable chores. Stevie spoke first. “Uh, I better hang up. My mom will be home soon, and I’ll be in big trouble if she thinks I watched TV all day.”
“I have to go, too,” Lisa said. “I’ve got to finish my English reading, needlepoint— But, hey,” she added, remembering her new role as Stevie’s coach, “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early!”
After putting the phone down, Lisa stared up at her picture of The Saddle Club. Horse-crazy? she thought. They sure weren’t acting like it. Willing to help each other out in any situation? While Carole was helping out Red and Mrs. Reg, the two of them were sitting at home. “But we always help out!” Lisa wailed. “Why can’t someone else help out for a while?” The picture didn’t answer. It just stared back at her accusingly. How long would she and Stevie go, it seemed to ask, breaking both rules of The Saddle Club?
IN HER DREAM Stevie was running. She was running along a road. She was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She had no memory of putting them on. And Lisa was there, too, running beside her. Lisa was saying something. What was it? Over her own panting breaths, Stevie could just make out her words. “Pick up your knees! Look sharp! Come on, here we go! One, two, one, two!” Stevie looked at her surroundings: bare trees, gray sky, houses, mailboxes. “It’s not a dream!” she yelled.
“Of course it’s not!” Lisa replied. “I just got you up and out running before you had time to realize you were awake.”
“Gosh.” Stevie was dumbfounded. She tried to sound nonchalant when she asked, “What, ah—What time is it?”
“Six-forty-five! Hey, no lagging on this hill!” Lisa barked. “Move it! Move it!”
At the word hill Stevie felt her feet start to drag. Or maybe it was the realization that she was awake at the same time she normally got up for school. Either way, she slowed her pace. She was suddenly aware of a cramp in her side, a burning sensation in her lungs.
Lisa looked over at her trainee. She had to think of a way to keep her going. “Stevie?”
“Can’t talk,” Stevie panted. “No breath.”
“Just nod then. You see that big oak tree way up in the distance?”
Stevie nodded.
“Imagine that tree is Alex. And he just insulted you. He told you riding wasn’t a real sport. He told you—Hey!” Lisa yelled as Stevie lunged forward in a great burst of speed. “Wait for me!”
Back at the house, Lisa critiqued Stevie’s performance. They had jogged two miles. Stevie had moaned and groaned for one and a half. “But you did it without stopping,” Lisa conceded, “and I’m proud of you.”
Stevie couldn’t answer. She was too busy draining a huge plastic jug of water. “Pheweeeee! That wasn’t so bad. Now let’s eat.”
Lisa looked doubtful. “You want to eat before your push-ups and sit-ups?” she asked.
“Push-ups?” said Stevie, refilling her jug. “And sit-ups?”
Before Lisa could answer, Alex, Michael, and Chad traipsed into the kitchen. Alex was all in spandex. Michael and Chad were in pajamas, rubbing their eyes. “Do you always have to wake us up?” Michael grumbled at Alex.
“Yeah, with all that whistling?” Chad said disgustedly.
“It’s just I have so much energy that I wake up in a good mood and I— Hel-lo!” Alex said, taking in Stevie and Lisa. The three boys stared at them.
“I didn’t know you slept over, Lisa,” said Chad.
“I didn’t,” Lisa said, giggling at Chad’s sheepish look. She and Chad had once gone on a couple of dates. Nothing had come of it, but it still made for the occasional awkward moment. Especially, Lisa thought, when she caught Chad in his pajamas!
“You see, we don’t have a problem getting up early,” Stevie said pointedly. “We’re used to it—from going to horse shows.”
“Ha, ha,” said Alex. “What did you do, Lisa, pour a pitcher of water over her head?”
“Actually I—”
“Pitcher of water? Don’t you mean jug?” Stevie cried. In a flash she dumped hers over Alex’s head. “Come on, Lisa!”
The two girls thundered up the stairs. They ran into Stevie’s room and slammed the door. A moment later there was a knock. “You can’t come in!” Stevie yelled.
“Oh, can’t I?” said a stern voice.
Grinning wanly, Stevie opened the door. “Ah—Hi, Mom.”
Mrs. Lake stood there dressed for work. Somehow she managed to frown at Stevie and give Lisa a welcoming smile at the same time.
“I thought I heard your voice, Lisa. And what, may I ask, are you two doing up to so early?” said Mrs. Lake.
“Working out, of course,” Stevie answered. At her mother’s surprised look she added, “It so happens that Alex and I have a little contest in two weeks.”
“Aha! So that’s why you’re preoccupied with athletic activity,” Mrs. Lake said knowingly. “Good old sibling rivalry.”
“Oh, no, Mom,” Stevie said sternly. “I’m getting into shape because, uh, everyone ought to exercise regularly. Good for the heart—you know—lungs, respiratory tract, calf muscles. Et cetera.”
Mrs. Lake smiled. “Try my abs and arms video,” she offered.
A vivid image came to Stevie’s mind of her mother panting on the family room floor, cursing at a leotard-clad woman on TV. “I don’t know, Mom. It’s nice of you to offer, but—”
“That sounds great, Mrs. Lake!” Lisa broke in. “Is it hard?”
“It’s a killer,” Mrs. Lake promised. She wished the girls a good day and turned to go. “Oh, and Stevie,” she added, “after that video?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“The TV goes off!”
Stevie had never known exactly where her abdominals were. After the video, she still didn’t know: Her entire torso was in agony. So was her neck. Even one of her ankles felt odd. And her arms felt like dead weights. “I think I’m gonna puke,” she said hoarsely.
“Nonsense!” said Lisa, all business. “Here. I have a pad of paper.”
“What else is new?” Stevie muttered.
Lisa was known for her organizational skills. She whipped out a ballpoint pen. “Tell me w
hat your fitness goals are and I’ll make a list.”
“I have only one goal,” Stevie whispered. “To live till tomorrow.”
In spite of herself Lisa laughed. While Stevie lay bellyaching on the couch, Lisa mapped out a schedule of everything they had to do over the next ten days to beat Alex. On one level Lisa was worried: Stevie’s inherent laziness wasn’t going to help matters. But in the end they’d be just fine. Stevie’s insane competitive streak would win out.
“All right, jock, time for breakfast.”
Instantly Stevie revived. “Let’s make bacon!” she yelled.
The girls fried some bacon and tried to make omelettes, which quickly turned into scrambled eggs. They were talking and laughing. But the moment they sat down to eat, both of them got very quiet. Lisa noticed that they were avoiding each other’s eyes. She had the feeling they were both thinking the same thing—the same thing as each other, and the same thing as last night on the phone.
“I guess we really ought to map out a schedule for Belle and Prancer, too, huh, Stevie?”
Stevie nodded. Lisa was right. Here it was, their third day of not riding. Carole probably thought they were lazy beyond belief. But still, Stevie reminded herself, the day was young. “Look, we can go to Pine Hollow right after Priced to Sell.”
Lisa perked up at once. “Excellent idea. We’ll take a little break and then head out. After that workout, we deserve a break!” They cleaned up and headed into the family room.
Chad, however, had already claimed the TV. He was watching music videos.
“But Priced to Sell is on!” Stevie wailed.
“Tough. I hate game shows,” Chad said. “And I’ll be gone in an hour. Dan’s coming over and we’re going to the mall to get computer stuff.”
“Dan’s driving you to the mall?” Stevie said plaintively.
“Yup.”
Stevie and Lisa looked at one another. An excursion to the mall would be fun!
“Can we come?”
Chad took his eyes off the screen to survey them briefly. “Okay. As long as you don’t say one word about working out! Alex is already driving me crazy with his power shakes and his body mass index. I just don’t care, got it?”
“Got it,” Stevie said solemnly. She turned to Lisa, all thoughts of riding forgotten. “Come on, let’s go call Carole and see if she can come!”
CAROLE FOLLOWED THE horse and rider with her eyes. They were going at a trot. The horse was moving well; the rider rose naturally in the saddle. “Nice job, Pat!” she called. “Why don’t you try a canter?”
“Great!”
Carole saw Pat sit down to ask for the transition. She leaned forward slightly and Starlight broke into a canter. Pat’s face lit up. “Gosh, he’s well-behaved!”
“Knock on wood!” Carole joked.
Twenty minutes later Pat rode into the center of the ring, her face still ecstatic. “You’ve trained him so well!” she exclaimed. “He’s perfect!”
Carole smiled. “I don’t know about perfect,” she said, “but thanks.”
“Say, would you mind if I tried a jump?” Pat asked.
“Not at all,” Carole replied readily. It would be good for Starlight to hop over a few fences. “I’ll drag that cross rail and vertical into place.”
While she set up two low jumps, Carole saw Pat rubbing Starlight’s neck and praising him. Starlight pranced along happily. It was strange, but for a moment, watching them, Carole felt left out. A twinge of sadness passed through her. Pat’s enthusiasm reminded her of how she used to feel about Starlight. Lately she couldn’t seem to make him do anything right. What had changed?
Jumping Starlight only made Pat more enthusiastic. She trotted the cross rail and cantered over the vertical a number of times. “I just can’t get over how great this horse is,” she gushed, pulling up and dismounting. “Are you going to ride now? I’d love to see what he can really do.”
Carole hesitated. She was tired; she’d had a fitful night’s sleep and didn’t feel much like riding. But what could she do, say no? To riding her own horse? That would look strange. And Carole wanted to explain her mood even less than she wanted to ride. Reluctantly she traded places with Pat.
From the moment she gathered up the reins, Carole realized her mistake. She should have trusted her instincts. Starlight could sense what kind of mood she was in. It was almost as if he wanted to make her look bad in front of Pat. He wouldn’t walk, he wouldn’t halt, he hedged away from one corner of the indoor ring—every time they passed it. “Would you behave?” Carole muttered through clenched teeth. As she drew near the door, she saw Mrs. Reg standing with Pat, watching her intently.
Having Max’s mother there annoyed Carole. It made her nervous, though normally she wouldn’t have cared. I’ll show them, she thought. She turned Starlight toward the vertical. As they approached, the wind whistled through the rafters of the roof. Starlight shied violently and ducked out of line. He got the bit between his teeth and bolted.
Carole was so stunned she couldn’t react right away. Her champion jumper had run out before a fence! That was one of the worst faults there was. At last she sat back in the saddle and reined him in. She brought him back to a trot and made a circle. Her face burning with shame, Carole reapproached the jump. Starlight ran out again.
The third time, Carole was ready. She opened her outside rein and used her inside leg. She made Starlight go forward. He dodged right and left. Finally he got in under the fence and popped it. The awkward jump unseated Carole. She managed to hang on, but barely. When she had recovered herself, she was embarrassed beyond belief. She didn’t want to ride anymore. She also didn’t want to ride over to Pat and Mrs. Reg.
“I’d better call it a day!” she yelled.
“All right!” Pat called anxiously. “I hope I didn’t mess him up!”
“No—oh, no; you didn’t do anything wrong!” Carole assured her, her voice choked with shame.
As she slowed to a walk, she heard Mrs. Reg asking Pat if she would like to ride Barq and Pat saying she would. The two women left the side of the ring together.
Only then did Carole dare dismount. She halted right away and got off. How could she have made such a fool of herself? In front of Pat, her new friend, and Mrs. Reg, who would probably tell Max! Fighting off tears of frustration, Carole dejectedly led Starlight to his stall. She untacked him as quickly as possible and went to the tack room.
Mrs. Reg was inside, straightening up. Carole looked at the floor, humiliated. “Say, where are your other two thirds?” Mrs. Reg asked.
“Huh? Oh—Stevie and Lisa? They must be coming this afternoon,” Carole said. She was so upset, she hadn’t even noticed their absence. Anyway, she was glad they hadn’t been around to witness her second horrible performance. First the lesson and now this.
“Bad day?” Mrs. Reg asked quietly. When Carole didn’t answer, she said gently, “Everyone has them sometimes.”
Carole’s frown only deepened. She wasn’t in the mood for the older woman’s cheery wisdom.
“The other day,” Mrs. Reg went on, oblivious, “I was in a bad mood because I had to clean out my attic. But you know what? It paid off. I found a dress up there that I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a dress I’d made myself. I wore it, oh, for years. Everyone complimented me on this dress, and I was very proud of it. It was blue gingham with— Well, never mind. The fabric’s not important. The point is, I found it again! I was so excited because I thought I had passed it on ages ago. Now I can’t wait to start wearing it again. Funny how that works, isn’t it? You think you’re through with something and then—”
“Mrs. Reg?” Carole broke in. “Can I use the phone?”
Mrs. Reg paused in midsentence. She gave Carole a searching look. The phone in Max’s office was to be used only for very important calls. “If you need to, dear … Yes, of course you can,” she said.
Carole fled the room before Mrs. Reg could change her mind. She ran to the office and drew a
slip of paper from her pocket. Her hands were trembling. She dialed the number. After several rings, Jenny picked up. “Sorry!” the older girl said breathlessly. “I was in the barn!”
“It’s Carole Hanson,” Carole said, getting right to the point. “I—I was wondering if I could come ride King again.”
“SURE!” JENNY SAID after a slight pause. “In fact, I’m on my way over to the tack shop in Willow Creek, so I can give you a ride. Where are you?”
“I’m at Pine Hollow,” Carole said.
“Perfect. I know just where that is.”
“I’ll wait at the end of the driveway. It’ll be easier that way,” Carole added hastily.
The moment the call ended, she grabbed her things from the locker room and trudged out to the road. She knew it would take Jenny half an hour to get there, but she didn’t want to wait around Pine Hollow. She didn’t want to answer questions about where she was going—or why.
“I’m so glad you changed your mind!” said Jenny when she pulled up in a white pickup. “Hop in—and watch out for all the tack. I just had a bunch of stuff repaired.
“You know, I meant what I said about you and King,” the older girl continued once they were on the way. “You’re a good rider, and you and he could go far.”
“Thanks,” Carole mumbled, embarrassed by two things: one, the compliment, and two, the fact that Jenny seemed to think she was seriously considering buying King. And why wouldn’t she? Carole had said nothing to reveal the true situation: that though she could never, ever afford King, she longed to ride him again.
“Have you ever thought of doing top-level dressage?”
Carole swallowed. She nodded.
“Well, then, King is your horse,” Jenny replied.
“I—I would probably still ride in Pony Club events and other shows,” Carole said hesitantly, “I mean, for fun …”
Jenny gave her a smile. “You really think so? I’ll tell you, when I started riding dressage—I mean for real, none of this backyard stuff—I never looked back. Carole, every rider has to choose sometime. Every great rider, that is.”
Carole shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She did “backyard stuff.” On the other hand, she knew Jenny was right about the need to specialize. If you looked at the Olympics or any of the top international competitions, all the riders did one thing and one thing only. Some were show jumpers, jumping high, technical courses in a ring. Others rode at the highest levels of dressage.
Horse Fever Page 6