Polly reached her side. “I just heard,” she repeated. “You must be so bummed! I mean, what a total surprise. To everyone.”
Carole winced, assuming that Polly was referring to the loss of her job at the stable. “Yeah,” she said. “I figured everybody must have found out about that by now.”
But it turned out that Polly had something else on her mind. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Oh, did you know that Max was talking to that Canadian guy about Samson?”
“Samson?” Carole felt confused. “Wait a minute. What are you talking about?”
“About Samson leaving,” Polly said. “I just ran into Andrea, and she said Max told her he’s shipping Samson up to Canada this afternoon. I mean, I knew he was going, but I didn’t realize it would be so fast.”
Carole’s head spun. Some tiny rational part of her brain knew that she shouldn’t be surprised—naturally Samson’s new owner was eager to have him as soon as possible. And Max had no reason to hold him at Pine Hollow. But that didn’t lessen the shock of Polly’s words. “T-Today?” Carole stammered. “Are you sure?”
Polly shrugged. “That’s what Andrea told me. I guess you could check with Max if—oops, sorry. Maybe not.” She looked embarrassed. “I, uh, I heard about—well, you know. Sorry.”
Carole hardly heard her. Mumbling something about being late, she walked off toward the parking lot without a backward glance. She felt numb all over. Somehow, she managed to find her way to her small, rust-red car and climb inside. Moving on autopilot, she got the keys out of her pocket and into the ignition. She started to turn toward the exit, remembering only at the last moment that she needed to go the other way, to the teachers’ parking lot.
When she pulled into the teachers’ lot, she immediately spotted Dr. Durbin standing beside a biscuit-colored sedan that looked as businesslike and no-nonsense as she did herself. “Ready to go, Carole?” the vice principal called cheerfully as Carole pulled up next to her.
Carole pasted a weak smile on her face as she idled behind Dr. Durbin’s car. “I’m ready,” she lied. “I’ll follow you.”
Dr. Durbin was an unhurried driver, and Carole had no trouble keeping up as she drove across town, heading in the opposite direction from Carole’s house. Leaving the town limits, the vice principal led the way through several housing developments before turning in at a rustic-looking wooden sign reading WILLOW WOODS. Before long Carole was parking her car beside the vice principal’s in the small parking lot in front of an unassuming frame building.
“Here we are,” Dr. Durbin called as Carole climbed out of her car. “Right on time.”
“Uh-huh.” Carole was still thinking about Samson. She couldn’t believe he was leaving that very day. She would never see him again, except maybe on TV when he competed with his new owner in Grand Prix events.
She followed Dr. Durbin into the building, which consisted primarily of a large meeting room with folding metal chairs set up facing a podium. A dozen people were already inside, seated on the chairs or standing near the podium chatting. A few of them noticed Dr. Durbin’s entrance and waved a greeting. One earnest-looking young man with receding sandy brown hair detached himself from a small group and hurried toward the newcomers.
“Jan,” he called. “Good, you’re here. Should we get started?”
“In a second,” Dr. Durbin said. “First I’d like you to meet our newest volunteer. Carole Hanson, this is Craig Skippack, our fearless leader.”
“Nice to meet you,” Carole said automatically. Craig replied politely, welcoming her to the meeting, but Carole didn’t really hear his words. She was picturing Samson paused at the foot of a loading ramp, sniffing it carefully as if checking to make sure it was solid.
I can’t believe I won’t be there to say good-bye to him, she thought dully, following Dr. Durbin toward a row of chairs and taking a seat. I thought I was ready for this, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon.…
More memories flooded her mind. Samson being born—balancing on his long, slender legs for the first time, looking around in wonder at the new world surrounding him. The first time Max put a halter on the gangly, energetic, curious foal. That day, Samson had bucked and kicked and shaken his head from side to side as if he might never stop, though he’d calmed down within a few days. Then there was the first time the spirited young horse had competed in a real show. Lisa had ridden him that day, and the gelding’s talent had been evident even though he was still green. And then there were the past few months—a time Carole had thought would last forever, their time together. From the first day the black horse had returned to Pine Hollow, Carole had spent most of her waking moments thinking of him, training him, riding him. It had all paid off on Saturday at the show, when they had qualified for the jump-off against the toughest possible competition. And when they had triumphed, when the judge had pinned the blue ribbon to Samson’s bridle and the horse had snorted as if he understood what they had done—
“Carole!” Dr. Durbin whispered sharply.
Blinking and sitting up quickly, Carole realized that she had become completely lost in her trip down Memory Lane. Craig Skippack was at the podium saying something about playground equipment and indoor-outdoor paint. Most of the others in the room were listening raptly, but Dr. Durbin was glaring at Carole, the annoyance clear in her eyes.
“Are you with us, Carole?” the vice principal whispered.
Carole gulped. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I—I guess I’m a little distracted today.”
“If you’d prefer, we could revisit the suspension idea,” Dr. Durbin whispered sternly. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, then I really think—”
“No, no,” Carole whispered back hastily. “I’m sorry, really. I want to do this. It’s just that, um …” She searched her mind for a feasible excuse. Somehow she didn’t think that the truth would impress the vice principal very much. “Uh, I’m not feeling too well,” she blurted out. “I have a stomachache.”
Dr. Durbin looked skeptical for a moment. But apparently the real pain in Carole’s eyes convinced her that she was telling the truth. “Well now,” she said at last. “If that’s the case, maybe you ought to get home to bed. I can fill you in tomorrow, or I can have Craig call you with the details.”
Carole could hardly believe her ears. “Uh, okay,” she said, pretending to be reluctant. “Maybe that would be best. I’m sorry.” Clutching her stomach for effect, she carefully slid out of her seat and headed for the door.
Outside, she broke into a run. She had no intention of going home to bed. There was only one place in the world that she wanted to be right then, and she was going to have to hurry.
Phil was leading his bay gelding, Teddy, up the hard-packed dirt driveway of Cross County Stables when Stevie took the turn off the country highway. Pulling up slowly beside them as Phil guided the athletic quarter horse to one side of the drive, she rolled down her window.
“Yo!” she called. “Get that beast off the road. I’m trying to drive here!”
Phil grinned. “You’d better watch it, or I’ll ask Mr. Baker to put you on Bunny today,” he joked.
Stevie returned his grin. Bunny was a large, ornery one-eyed mule that hated every living creature with a passion, except for his stablemate, a boarder’s Thoroughbred gelding. “So where’s A.J.?” Stevie asked Phil. “Isn’t he with you?”
“He’s already here, I think,” Phil reported. “I saw him ride past my house on his bike a few minutes ago, heading this way.”
Stevie nodded. As nice as it would have been to have Phil all to herself, she was glad to hear that A.J. hadn’t bailed on them. She was determined not to give up on him, even if it sometimes seemed that he’d given up on himself. “Good. Meet you up there,” she told Phil before tapping the gas pedal and pulling ahead, turning off on the side road that led to the small parking lot.
A few minutes later Teddy was tied to the wooden hitching post outside the front door and Stevie and Phil we
re walking into the stable building arm in arm. Cross County Stables was smaller and slightly more rustic in appearance than Pine Hollow, but it was just as clean, efficient, and well run, thanks to Mr. Baker, the manager and a close friend of Max’s. Stevie had been a regular visitor there since she and Phil had met back in junior high.
“Who am I riding today?” she asked Phil as they walked down the long narrow main stable aisle. Unlike Pine Hollow with its U-shaped aisle, which was flanked on both sides by stalls, Cross County’s L-shaped main aisle had stalls on only one side. The other side was lined with windows that looked out onto the stable’s central courtyard, which held a mounting block and a small riding ring.
“Well, I suggested Teeny,” Phil said, referring to a hulking retired Percheron. Teeny spent most of his time grazing in one of the stable’s hilly back pastures. “But Mr. Baker seemed to think Blue was a better choice.”
“Cool.” Stevie was happy to hear that one of her favorite Cross County horses was available. Blue was no Belle—she didn’t have Belle’s mischievous spirit or her talent for dressage—but she was a good horse in her own quieter, more serious way. Stevie had ridden the easygoing dark gray mare during many previous visits to Cross County.
Blue’s stall was near the end of the row. On the way there, Stevie paused in front of the stall housing A.J.’s horse, a gray mare named Crystal. “He’s not in there,” she reported, patting Crystal on the nose and peering past her into the stall.
“He’s probably in the tack room,” Phil said. “I’ll go check on him.”
“Bring Blue’s tack while you’re at it, okay?” Stevie said. “I’m going to go say hello and get reacquainted.”
“Be right back.” Phil hurried off down the aisle. After one last pat for Crystal, Stevie headed in the other direction and soon reached Blue’s stall.
“How’s it going, girlfriend?” Stevie greeted the horse cheerfully, unhooking the webbing from the front of the stall. Blue came forward with a snort, tossing her long mane and sniffing the top of Stevie’s head curiously.
Stevie giggled and wrinkled her nose. Less than a minute later, Phil turned up in the stall door carrying a saddle and bridle. “A.J.’s there,” he reported. “Turns out Mr. Baker noticed he hadn’t cleaned his tack the last time out. I interrupted the lecture.”
“I guess he takes that stuff just as seriously as Max does,” Stevie commented, remembering the many lectures Max had given her about keeping her tack spick-and-span. “Toss me that bridle, will you?”
Phil handed over the bridle agreeably. “I’ll meet you out front, okay?” he said. “I’m going to go hurry A.J. along, and then I’d better check on Teddy.”
“See you in a few.” Giving Blue a fond pat on the neck, Stevie set about tacking up the mare, chatting to her easily the whole time.
Inside, though, Stevie was feeling a nervous twinge in the pit of her stomach about their upcoming ride. She wasn’t sure why this attempt to get through to A.J. should seem any more important than their many previous tries. But it did. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it could be their last chance. Maybe it was all the stories she’d been hearing about A.J.’s drinking. Maybe it was that Thanksgiving was approaching rapidly, the mother of all family holidays, and A.J. was still estranged from his own family. Maybe it was simply that the situation had been going on far too long. Stevie wasn’t sure. But she knew she was going to do whatever it took to help her friend get past all his problems.
A few minutes later, as Stevie was slipping the girth beneath Blue’s smooth, slightly rounded belly, she heard the sound of laughter just down the aisle. Familiar laughter. “Sounds like A.J.’s in a good mood,” she murmured into the mare’s warm side. Quickly pulling the girth snug and fastening it securely, Stevie gave the horse a pat and stepped to the front of the stall.
A.J. and Phil were just a few yards away in front of Crystal’s stall. A.J. was holding his horse’s saddle and grinning at whatever Phil was saying to him—Stevie was too far away to hear.
Seeing Stevie watching them, Phil waved. “Almost ready?” he called.
“Almost,” she replied. Ducking back into the stall, she quickly finished getting Blue ready. Then she led the mare out into the aisle, just in time to follow Crystal as A.J. led her toward the door.
“This was a great idea, Stevie,” A.J. said as Stevie led Blue to the mounting block and swung herself aboard. “And don’t worry, I brought enough cookies for everyone.” He patted the backpack he was holding. “Nothing like a balanced meal, right?”
“Oops!” Stevie realized that she’d forgotten about the sandwiches she’d packed for the three of them. “The food! It’s still in the car.”
She made a move to dismount, but Phil held up his hand. “Stay put,” he ordered. “I’ll go get it.”
Stevie grinned gratefully. “My hero.”
Phil rolled his eyes and tossed her Teddy’s reins. Then he took off for the parking lot at a jog.
Stevie turned to look at A.J. This could be her only chance to say a few words to him in private. With three brothers, Stevie knew more than a little bit about how guys thought. As close as A.J. and Phil had always been, she suspected that it was probably hard for A.J. to admit his fears and weaknesses to another guy. Maybe he would have an easier time talking to her alone. As he shrugged on his backpack and prepared to mount, she cleared her throat. “So,” she said casually. “What’s new with you?”
“Not much.” A.J. put his left foot in the stirrup and shoved off, swinging his right leg over and settling himself in the well-worn leather saddle. Gathering up the reins, he glanced over at Stevie. “Same old, same old.”
“Oh.” In the distance, Stevie heard her car door slam. Phil would be back any second. “Well, I just wanted to let you know, if there’s anything you want to talk about … No pressure. I’m here, okay?”
A.J. shrugged. “Whatever.” He busied himself with his stirrups, lengthening them by one hole each.
Stevie sighed. Obviously A.J. wasn’t in the mood to chat at the moment. Still, she couldn’t help feeling optimistic now that they were getting started on their ride. Seeing A.J. in the saddle, fiddling with his stirrups like a normal person, gave her hope that he was going to be all right. Maybe all he’d needed was time to adjust to his new reality. Stevie could understand that. She was sure it would have thrown her for a loop if she’d suddenly discovered something so earth-shattering about her own family.
Maybe he’s coming around now, though, she thought. He’s definitely acting a lot more normal, today than he has been lately.
Soon Phil rejoined them, toting the pack Stevie had borrowed from Max. Strapping it on behind Teddy’s saddle, he mounted and picked up the reins. “All set?”
“Let’s go,” Stevie and A.J. said in unison.
The three of them set out, crossing the courtyard and then following the dirt path between two of Cross County’s smaller pastures. After crossing a small paved road and passing a field full of grazing sheep, they entered the outskirts of the state forest on a wide, well-traveled trail leading through a shrub-studded meadow. Ahead, Stevie could see the forest thickening gradually as it rose up the gentle foothills of the small mountains that began a few miles from Cross County. Even though Stevie knew that the forest was the same one that stretched to the north all the way to Pine Hollow, she always thought it looked a lot different here. Wilder, more exciting, and a little threatening at times. She shivered with anticipation, almost forgetting about A.J.’s problems for a moment as she simply looked forward to the ride.
For the next few minutes, the sounds of birds calling to each other mixed with the soft thud-thud of the horses’ hooves as they walked. Nobody spoke, and Stevie suspected that the two guys were enjoying themselves as much as she was. The sun was bright overhead, and the air was that temperature that felt like no temperature at all, though beneath it Stevie could sense the brisk November cold just waiting to sweep in when the sun set.
Phil was th
e first to break the silence. “Check it out, Stevie,” he commented, glancing at his friends’ horses. “I think Blue is feeling her oats. Looks like she wants to race.”
Stevie realized she hadn’t been paying much attention to her mount. But now she saw that Blue had edged closer to Crystal, her ears pricked forward alertly and her attention on the other gray mare, who was returning the look. Both of the mares were moving faster than Teddy, who was ambling along a short distance behind them.
A.J. noticed, too. “What do you say, Stevie?” he said with a grin. “Feel up to a little friendly competition?”
“Anytime,” Stevie replied immediately. “Let’s go, you and me. First one to that big dead pine stump wins. Just name your gait.”
“We’ll keep it easy. Trot,” A.J. replied.
The word was hardly out of his mouth when Stevie signaled her horse for the faster gait. Blue responded right away, swinging into a choppy but quick trot. Crystal snorted as A.J. urged her forward, and she quickly lengthened her stride to match Blue’s pace. Stevie grinned at A.J., enjoying the feel of the crisp breeze on her face.
“You’re dead meat, McDonnell!” she called.
“No way,” A.J. cried in return. “We’re an unbeatable team. Eat our dust!”
He urged Crystal forward even faster. Stevie leaned forward, calling encouraging words to Blue. The two mares were neck and neck as they detoured around a large patch of thorny wild rosebushes and aimed at the familiar landmark of a weather-beaten stump that had once been a huge pine.
Crystal was slightly ahead as they approached, and Stevie resisted the impulse to try any harder to catch up. She could be pretty competitive, but she didn’t mind letting A.J. win this one. He needed it more than she did. As the two horses passed the stump, Crystal was a neck ahead. A.J. let out a whoop of triumph and pumped one fist in the air.
Stevie grinned and reached up to tip her riding helmet to him. “Nice going,” she said. “We’ll get you next time, though.”
Ground Training Page 7