Ground Training

by Bonnie Bryant

  She didn’t bother to finish the sentence. Instead, she stuck the knife back into her teeth and concentrated on pushing herself backward off the saddle, wincing as her injured hand pressed against the unyielding leather. By wriggling her legs and body from side to side, she managed to ease herself down partway into the water. Then, twisting at the waist and hoping her luck would hold, she fished around in the water for Blue’s right stirrup.

  When she found it, she jammed her foot into it, then pushed off Crystal’s back before she could chicken out. Pivoting on her right leg, she felt her ankle scream with protest. But she ignored it, lunging for the mare’s neck.

  She grabbed Blue’s mane with both hands, still doing her best to ignore the searing pain in her palm. Feeling the knife slip in her teeth, she spit it out before she could slice her face open to match her hand. The knife flew forward and landed with a plop in the water just past Blue’s right shoulder, sinking instantly out of sight. Stevie hardly noticed as she scrabbled to keep her balance in the stirrup. Miraculously, she managed to hold on and get her body twisted around and facing the right way.

  Her left leg felt heavy and clumsy as she swung it over and searched out the other stirrup with her foot. “Good thing Max isn’t here,” she commented, mostly to herself. “I’m sure he’d yell at me for mounting from the wrong side.” She giggled at her own dark humor. Then, realizing that her giggle sounded slightly hysterical, she gulped and did her best to get a grip. They weren’t out of this yet.

  “Okay, everybody ready?” she called once she was securely in the saddle with Blue’s reins in her hands. “I’m going to unhook Crystal’s reins so she won’t have to pull free of that seaweed stuff. Then we’ll take it from there.”

  “Go for it,” Phil replied. “Meanwhile I’ll see what I can do about this stirrup.”

  Stevie winced. She’d totally forgotten that A.J.’s foot had slipped through the stirrup. Still, she figured Phil could take care of that now that A.J.’s arms were free and he could help keep himself afloat.

  Fortunately, Crystal’s reins were attached to the bit ring with a simple buckle fastener. Even with her fingers clumsy from the cold, Stevie was able to detach the buckles quickly without dislodging Crystal’s blindfold. Then Stevie turned Blue around and steered her a little closer to the other horse. Crystal was starting to toss her head nervously again, and Stevie was afraid they were running out of time. Maybe Blue’s presence could keep her calm a little longer.… Soon Crystal’s chest was bumping against Blue’s girth. Crystal stretched her neck forward, sniffing curiously at the other horse.

  “That’s right,” Stevie crooned, grabbing Crystal’s bridle and tugging lightly to keep her close. “We’re here now. All you have to do is follow us out of this nasty old river, okay, sweetheart?”

  Crystal snorted and shifted her weight nervously. Stevie held her breath as she waited to see what the mare would do next. She was counting on the fact that horses were herd animals. They took comfort in numbers, a throwback to their wild days when the herd was the only defense against predators. Stevie let out her breath and smiled as Crystal snorted once more and then stood still, her head turned toward Blue’s neck and her body braced against the current.

  “Okay, now, girls,” Stevie said, making her voice as soothing as possible. “What do you say we head back to shore now, okay?”

  Before my legs freeze to this saddle, she added silently. Still, she knew she didn’t have much to complain about compared to Phil and A.J. They had been in the icy current much longer than she had. She stood in her stirrups to give them a slightly nervous glance.

  “How’s it going over there?” she called to them.

  “No luck so far,” Phil answered shortly. “His foot is really jammed in there, and the laces on his boots are all swollen from being wet. And I can’t get to the stirrup leather to unbuckle it—it’s way under Crystal’s belly, and I can’t reach it without letting go of A.J.” He sounded frustrated and, for almost the first time since Stevie had known him, on the verge of tears. “I can’t get him free.”

  Stevie tried not to think about the knife. If she’d been able to hang on to it, they might have managed to cut A.J.’s boots off his feet or saw through the stirrup leather. But this was no time for might-have-beens. They had to figure out another solution. “If I can get Crystal to move toward shore, can you two just sort of float along?”

  “Don’t think so,” Phil said grimly. “A.J. isn’t doing too great. Besides, if we didn’t have this rock giving us something to grab on to…”

  Stevie nodded, chewing her lip anxiously. She saw the problem clearly now that Phil had pointed it out. At the moment the two guys were wedged against the boulder by the current as well as the horse’s bulk. But if she dragged them out from its shelter while A.J.’s foot was still stuck, he would have no way to stop the river from pulling him under—especially if he was too weak and sluggish from the cold and the alcohol in his bloodstream to tread water.

  Think! she chided herself, feeling panic start to creep into her mind. There’s got to be a way. We’re so close.…

  Ideas flashed through her mind, each more elaborate and impossible than the last. Creating a sling out of their clothes and tying A.J. to Crystal’s side. Luring Teddy into the water somehow so that Phil and A.J. could grab on to him to stay afloat. Diving under Crystal’s belly to unbuckle her girth or the stirrup leather…

  Glancing over Crystal’s back again, Stevie saw that A.J.’s eyes were half closed. There was no more time for plans. Besides, sometimes the simplest ideas were the ones that worked.

  She backed Blue up another few steps. “Okay,” she called crisply, hoping she sounded as though she knew what she was doing. “Here’s what we’ll do. When I say the word, you shove A.J. toward me so that I can grab his hair. I’ll hold him above the water, and you dive down and work on that stirrup buckle. Got it?”

  Phil hesitated for a second. Then he spoke, his voice sounding a little firmer. “Okay. Say the word.”

  Now it was Stevie’s turn to hesitate. Could they really do this? In A.J.’s condition he would probably hardly notice the pain of having his hair practically yanked out of his scalp, assuming that Stevie could hold on with her cold fingers and lacerated palm while simultaneously keeping control of two understandably nervous horses. Then there was Phil. After spending so much time in the cold, cold water, did he still have the energy to dive under and struggle with the buckle of the stirrup leather, which would be as swollen and slick as all the rest of the tack? And even if he could, would Crystal tolerate what he was doing down there beneath her vulnerable belly, or would she kick to protect herself? Stevie’s head swam and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the image of Crystal’s heavy, iron-shod hoof connecting with Phil’s skull.

  “Okay,” she said, knowing there was no other way. She grabbed Blue’s mane with her injured right hand, hardly noticing the new flash of pain. Then she shifted her weight, leaning out over the other horse until she could see the two guys in the water beyond. “On the count of three. One … two…”

  At the end of the count, she leaned as far as she could over Crystal’s back, stretching toward A.J.’s head as Phil gave him a forceful shove in her direction. A.J.’s hair was longer than he usually kept it—another sign of his recent rebellion that Stevie had hardly noticed until now. She was able to get her fist around a good-sized hank.

  “Got him!” she cried.

  Phil stared up at her, breathing hard. “Are you sure?”

  She just nodded. Her leg muscles were protesting again from their unnaturally twisted positions. Another muscle, one just above her right hip that she hadn’t even known was there, was twitching with pain as it stretched unbearably.

  But she wasn’t going to let go. She held firm, pulling A.J.’s head a little closer to Crystal’s side. A.J. whimpered slightly but made no other protest.

  Without another word, Phil pulled in a deep breath and plunged beneath the surface
. The water was foamy, so Stevie had only a shadowy view of what was happening. She did her best simply to wait, to hold on, and to pray.

  Phil stayed underwater for more than a minute, his legs kicking out behind him as he struggled with the stirrup. Stevie thought she saw A.J.’s booted foot, floating helplessly near Phil’s head, kick him in the forehead once when Phil yanked at the strap. But she couldn’t be sure.

  Finally Phil surfaced, gasping for breath. “Whew,” he choked. “It’s really stuck in there.”

  “Do you want to switch places?” Stevie asked. “I could give it a try.”

  Phil shook his head firmly, sending droplets flying from his wet hair. “I’m already soaked and frozen,” he declared, his words a little blurred around the edges. “Besides, it would be too complicated. Just give me a sec and I’ll go back down.”

  Stevie knew he was right. Even though she ached to take a more active role, she simply checked her grip on A.J.’s hair and nodded.

  Phil dived down a second time. This time he stayed under even longer, so long that Stevie’s heart started to pound with worry. What would she do if he didn’t come up? How would she be able to save him and still hold on to A.J.? How could she—

  “Pheeeeew!” Phil’s pent-up breath exploded from his lungs as he burst out of the water.

  “Phil!” Stevie cried, so relieved that she forgot for a second what they were doing. “Are you okay?”

  “A-okay,” Phil replied, his breath ragged and quick. “I got it! He’s free!”

  FOURTEEN

  Carole pushed her fork under a small mound of mashed potatoes. She scooped it up and stared at it, then lowered it to the plate again.

  “Are you okay, Carole?” her father asked. “If the potatoes are getting cold, you could stick them in the microwave for a minute or two.”

  “No, they’re fine.” Carole picked up her fork and shoved it into her mouth, forcing herself to swallow. The last thing she wanted was to start her father off on a lecture about her moping.

  “Um, so how did your speech go last night?”

  “Just fine.” Colonel Hanson reached for another slice of roasted chicken from the platter on the table between them. “It was just a small company I spoke to this time, so there were only about fifty people there. But a lot of them came up to me afterward to ask questions or say nice things about what I’d said.”

  “That’s nice.” Usually Carole loved hearing about the motivational speeches her father gave for corporations and other organizations. After his long, distinguished career as a Marine, he had a lot of interesting things to say to people about living up to their potential.

  But today she wasn’t in the mood. After all, wasn’t he the one who was keeping her from living up to her potential by banning her from the one thing she was best at?

  She banished that thought. Getting whiny and feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help the situation. Neither would snapping at her father. All she could do was find a way to live through it.

  “So how was school today?” Colonel Hanson spoke up, breaking the silence between them. “Did you get that Spanish quiz back?”

  “Uh-huh. I got a B.” Carole knew that her father was paying even more attention to her schoolwork than usual lately. She couldn’t blame him for that, really, but it still felt weird to have him checking up on her. She wasn’t used to that. “And school was fine.”

  “Good, good.” Suddenly Colonel Hanson glanced up from his plate. “Oh! I almost forgot. How was the volunteer meeting? When are you getting started on the first project?”

  Carole swallowed hard. “Um, the meeting was fine,” she said. “We’re cleaning up a park over past Whitby Street. Starting Saturday.”

  She almost blurted out the rest of the truth—that she’d left the meeting early to say good-bye to Samson. But she couldn’t do it.

  It’s funny, she thought, but there seem to be a lot of things I can’t say to Dad these days. I used to think I could talk to him about anything. But with him so mad at me…

  Images flashed through her head. Samson standing at the bottom of that ramp earlier that day, posing as if to give her one last look before he left Pine Hollow forever. Starlight nuzzling Rachel, looking for treats, not knowing that she would be his new caretaker now that Carole couldn’t look after him. Prancer lowering her head to the stall floor for the last time the other day, panting for breath even as the life left her big, dark eyes. The way Max had looked at Carole when she told him she had to quit—sympathetic, understanding, and yet disappointed. Ben leaning toward her, his eyes soft and questioning as his lips found hers…

  It was all so difficult and confusing. And not having anyone to talk to about it made it even harder. She couldn’t discuss it with her friends, since she wasn’t allowed to make any phone calls and it was impossible to get a private moment with Lisa at school. It was bad enough being cut off from them. But it was even worse knowing she couldn’t talk to her father.

  She glanced at him again as she reached for her glass of water. It’s almost like he’s suddenly changed, she thought. Become a stranger.

  But she almost immediately realized that wasn’t quite it. It was more as if she were the one who had changed.

  He’s right when he says I brought this all on myself, she thought. If I hadn’t cheated on that test, I wouldn’t be grounded now, and I’d still have my job. Max would still think I was a model employee and a totally honest person. She grimaced. I’d still think that about myself.

  She wished she could go back in time and fix everything. Knowing what she knew now, she would never have cheated on that test. She would have studied harder or just taken the F and made up for it somehow through extra-credit work. That would still have meant missing Pine Hollow for a little while, but it wouldn’t have been as bad as this. Nothing would have been as bad as this.

  Besides, she thought, if I could go back, maybe I could catch Prancer’s problems before they went so far. Maybe we could have saved her if we’d been paying closer attention, if we hadn’t all been so busy getting ready for the horse show.…

  She wasn’t sure whether that part was true or not, but thinking that there was even a slight chance that it was made her feel more miserable than ever.

  And I would certainly know better than to hide what I was thinking about Starlight and Samson, she added, poking at her potatoes without seeing them. Instead, she was once again seeing Samson as she’d seen him earlier that day, stepping into the van with his head held high and proud. This time I would talk to Max from the beginning. If he’d known how much Samson meant to me, maybe he would have helped me. We might have worked out some kind of deal—maybe he would even have taken Starlight as a partial trade or something to use as a school horse.

  That possibility hadn’t occurred to her before. She sighed. It was just one more example of things she could have thought about sooner but hadn’t.

  And now it was too late. Short of a time machine, she had no idea what to do to make it all better. As she glanced at her father’s face, so familiar and yet so distant now, she felt like running away and starting a whole new life somewhere else. If it hadn’t meant leaving Starlight and her friends and the father she still loved—even if he didn’t love her quite so much anymore … Well, it almost seemed worth it. After all, at that point it seemed as though her life might never go back to normal. How could it?

  “May I please be excused?” Callie dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and glanced at her mother. At Mrs. Forester’s nod, she pushed back her chair and picked up her crutches.

  She was glad to escape to her bedroom and close the door behind her. All through dinner, she hadn’t been able to stop brooding about everything that was bothering her. Her crutches. George liking her better with her crutches. Going back to Valley Vista with her crutches. Not being able to walk without her crutches…

  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, clumping across the room toward her desk. Lowering herself into her chair, she held her crutches
out in front of her and stared at them. They were just two pieces of metal with rubber tips on the ends and some padding across the tops. Why did they suddenly seem to have so much power over her?

  It’s all in my head, Callie thought. That’s the only thing holding me back. If I really believed I could walk without them, I could do it. My body’s ready. It’s my mind that doesn’t get it. It’s my mind that’s too afraid to just go ahead and do it.

  That thought annoyed her. She didn’t like being afraid.

  “All right, then,” she said aloud. “Let’s do this.”

  She sat still in the chair a moment longer, visualizing what she was going to do. She was going to put her crutches aside. Then she was going to stand up and walk—all the way across the room to the bed. Without stopping. Without falling. Slowly and steadily.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned and leaned her crutches against the edge of her desk. Then she pushed off the arms of her desk chair. When she was upright, she turned her head and looked at the bed.

  The phone on her bedside table started ringing, but she ignored it. Someone else would pick up. She was totally focused, feeling the fierce, complete concentration she always felt at the start of a race. She was ready to go. Excited.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” she muttered again. This time she stepped off with her weak leg. Her foot landed firmly on the floor. Her ankle wobbled slightly, but she just kept going. Left leg. Right leg again—

  “Callie!” A loud, urgent knock accompanied her brother’s voice. “Yo, Call. You in there?”

  Startled by the sudden interruption, Callie swayed, grabbing the top of her dresser just in time to keep from falling. “What?” she yelled irritably. “What do you want?”

  Scott burst in. His face was creased with worry. “That was Lisa calling just now,” he said hurriedly, not even noticing Callie’s consternation at his appearance. “Alex just called her—Stevie called him from the hospital.…”