Carole grimaced slightly as he turned away and headed down the aisle. What did Max want to talk to her about? Was he worried that she was going to get in trouble again now that she was back on the job? Fat chance—she would keep her grades up this time if she had to give up sleeping and eating to do it. There was no way she was ever going to risk being separated from the work she loved again.
As they entered the office, she noticed a phone message in her own handwriting tacked to the bulletin board over the desk. “Hey!” she said, pointing to it. “Did you ever call about those horses that woman wants to sell you?” She had taken the message a couple of days earlier when a local woman had called looking to place her two horses as schoolies. One of the horses sounded as though it had a few problems, but Carole was excited, as always, at the prospect of a new training challenge. She had been afraid that Max might not even consider taking the horses on—the woman claimed she would only let them go together.
“Yes, I spoke to Mrs. Rand once, but I’ve been so crazed that I haven’t had a chance to call her back yet.” Max ran a hand over his head and glanced at the battered black phone on the desk. “I was planning to see if I could go out there and see them tomorrow afternoon. I’m hoping the gelding isn’t as poorly behaved as she’s making him sound. It would be nice to have a couple of decent new horses right around now—with all the new lesson kids and adult trail riders that have been coming out of the woodwork lately, we could really use them.”
“Great!” Carole said excitedly, already thinking about the empty stalls and figuring out the best place to put a couple of newcomers. What could be better than starting the New Year with a pair of new horses? “And even if that gelding’s not perfect right now, he’s probably not beyond hope or anything. We could work with him until he’s ready.”
“Hmmm.” Max sounded noncommittal. “Well, as I said, we’ll just have to wait and see.”
That gave Carole an idea. “When are you going?” she asked. “If it’s before school starts up again next week, I could come along if you want.”
“That would be great, as long as we get enough work done between now and then,” Max replied. “It would be nice to have a second opinion. Of course, both of us can’t leave if it’s too busy. Otherwise Maureen and Ben will be run ragged.”
Carole nodded quickly, pleased that Max seemed so eager for her opinion. It made her feel older and more mature than her seventeen years. “I understand. I know we’re going to be extra busy this week with Red and Denise both out.” Red O’Malley and Denise McCaskill, two of Pine Hollow’s stable hands, had gotten married on New Year’s Eve. They were away on a brief honeymoon in nearby Washington, D.C. “You can count on me.”
“I know I can,” Max said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean I want to see you here at all hours of the day and night,” he added sternly. “We don’t want a repeat of—well, let’s just say I don’t want you overdoing things.”
“Definitely not,” Carole agreed hastily, realizing that the lecture portion of their talk had arrived. “I’ve learned my lesson, Max. I swear. You don’t have to worry about my grades, or—or anything else.”
She found herself blushing again, this time in shame. She wasn’t sure she’d ever live down what she’d done when her grades had started slipping that fall. Her father, Max, and her friends had been shocked when they’d found out. Even now she found it hard to believe that she’d actually cheated on a test, peeked at the answers to keep her average from falling below a C, which was Max’s minimum requirement for all school-age riders at Pine Hollow.
“I believe you,” Max told her with a smile. “I believe you really have learned your lesson the hard way, and that you won’t let anything like this happen again. Your good track record speaks for you.”
Carole blushed. Max didn’t pass out compliments often, which made them that much more meaningful when they came. “Thanks,” she said simply.
Max glanced at the office clock and clapped his hands. “Okay, then. Let’s get to work before the day’s half over,” he said briskly. He studied the chalkboard near the office door. “You can start by giving Patch his medicine and checking to see if the swelling’s down on his sole. You and Maureen can start turning out horses when you’re finished with that—Chip, Talisman, Memphis, and all the ponies are going out this morning, and someone needs to bring down more hay. After that …”
Carole grinned as Max rattled on, giving out his usual hundred-and-one-item to-do list. Yes, she was home.
TWO
Stevie Lake yawned as she wandered up the stable aisle toward her horse’s stall. She had slept late that morning, doing her best to take advantage of her last few days of winter vacation.
“Glad you could make it, lazybones,” Carole’s familiar voice called teasingly.
Blinking, Stevie glanced over and realized that her friend was in an empty stall, sprinkling lime on a wet spot on the dirt floor. “Hey,” she greeted her, stifling another yawn. “Hard at work already, I see.”
Carole grimaced. “Yeah. And already wondering why I was so eager to get back to this.”
Stevie laughed. Cleaning stalls wasn’t anybody’s idea of a good time, but she knew that Carole was kidding. Even if some tasks were less appealing than others, Carole had to be thrilled to be back doing what she loved best—taking care of horses. Ever since Stevie had known her, that was all Carole really wanted to do.
Stevie leaned against the wall, watching as her friend sprinkled more of the white powdery lime onto the stall floor. “Ah, the glorious smell of horse pee in the morning,” she reflected. “What more could you wish for on your first day back?”
“How about a little help from a certain so-called best friend?” Carole suggested smilingly. “That is, unless you’d rather stand around and watch like some kind of lazy old pasture potato?”
Stevie opened her mouth to shoot back a retort but ended up shrugging instead. It was true. She did feel sort of lazy. “Hey, that’s what vacation is for, right?” she said with a grin. “Hanging out. Being lazy. Doing nothing.”
Carole tossed the scoop back in the lime bucket and cocked a dubious eye at Stevie. “For some people, maybe,” she said, hoisting the bucket out of the way and setting about bedding down the stall. “But since when does Stevie Lake, the queen of energy, ever just hang out and do nothing? I thought you’d be here bright and early, sniffing around for another breaking story to cover for the school paper when you go back next week. Or maybe practicing dressage so you can kick Phil’s butt at your next show.”
Stevie sighed before she quite realized she was doing it. “Yeah,” she said, glancing down the aisle at her horse, Belle, who had just stuck her head out over the half door of her stall. “Belle and I really should get back into some serious dressage training. Things have been so crazy lately, what with the holidays and everything, that it’s been hard enough just to squeeze in a trail ride once in a while. At this point Belle probably doesn’t even remember what a half-pass is.”
Carole paused in her work, leaned on her pitchfork, and raised one eyebrow at Stevie. “You don’t sound too thrilled about all this. Does this mean you’re finally getting bored with dressage?”
Stevie grinned sheepishly. She knew that most people found it hard to believe that she was interested in a discipline requiring so much precision and restraint. Precision and restraint weren’t the first words that leaped into anyone’s head when Stevie’s name came up, and she knew it. “No way,” she said. “Not until Belle and I are at Prix St. Georges level at least.” Her smile faded slightly. “It’s just that right now, well, it sort of feels like we’ll never get there. Like we’re in a rut. Must be that postholiday let-down thing I’m always hearing about.”
“Maybe,” Carole said. “So why not plan something to look forward to? You could enter yourself in a dressage show sometime in the next month or two. That way you’d have something to work toward.”
“Hmmm.” Stevie toyed with the idea for a moment.
Maybe Carole was right. Maybe all she needed was a goal—something to put the spark back in her riding. “I guess that could work.”
“You don’t sound too convinced.” Carole smiled, letting herself out of the stall and resting her pitchfork on the wheelbarrow in the aisle. “What happened to that killer competitive spirit we all know and—”
She was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat. Glancing behind her, Stevie saw that George Wheeler was watching them over the half door of his horse’s stall. She blinked in surprise. “Oh, hi, George,” she said. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” George said in his soft voice. “But I couldn’t help hearing what you were saying, and I was just wondering something. Have you ever thought about going into eventing?”
“Eventing?” Stevie shrugged. She knew that George was an avid event rider. “I’ve ridden in a couple of one-day trials and stuff, back in Pony Club. But otherwise, I guess I haven’t really thought about it much.”
George let himself out of the stall, gently pushing his mare’s nose back as she tried to follow. “I’m surprised you haven’t thought about it more,” he said. “I think you’d be really good at it. You’re a really good all-around rider. And it would be another way to show off your dressage skills, along with your jumping skills, which everybody knows aren’t too shabby either.”
“Don’t flatter her too much, George,” Carole joked as she pushed the wheelbarrow down to the next occupied stall, where a chestnut gelding named Comanche was watching her curiously. “Her ego’s big enough as it is.”
Stevie ignored her friend’s teasing. She was thinking about what George had said. “You know, you’re right,” she mused. “I wonder why I never saw it before. I mean, I love dressage—so that part’s taken care of. And Belle’s a good jumper and good at cross-country.… It could be a totally fun new thing for us to try!” The more she thought about it, the more excited she felt.
“Hmmm,” Carole commented from Comanche’s stall. “Actually, the only surprising thing about this idea is that you never thought of it before, Stevie. It’s sort of a natural. You have a perfect personality for eventing. You’re bold and aggressive, and you like to ride fast.…”
Stevie grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. “And you’re right. This could be just the thing to get me and Belle out of our rut.”
“Belle …,” Carole repeated. “What about Belle? Do you think she’s up to it? I mean, I know she’s great at dressage, but all that jumping …”
Stevie nodded slowly, glancing up the aisle at her mare, who was still watching them. “I know she doesn’t seem like the first choice of breeds for this sort of thing,” she admitted. “But it’s not like we’re going to be trying out for the Olympics or anything. She’ll be fine for, like pre-novice stuff or whatever. Right?” Suddenly realizing that George was still standing there, she looked at him for an opinion.
He was nodding. “I’ll admit, I don’t see too many Saddlebred-Arab crosses competing,” he said. “But the jumps at the lower levels are pretty small, and Belle should be athletic enough.”
“Cool.” Stevie smiled, glad that George agreed with her own assessment. “I think we might need a little jumping practice before we hit the cross-country stuff, though. It’s been a while.”
“I could help you out with that if you want,” George offered. “I mean, I know you could do fine by yourself. But Joyride was pretty green when I got her, so I’ve been through all the training before.” He gestured at the tall gray mare in the stall behind him.
“That would be great!” Stevie said. She could hardly believe George was being so cool. Why had she thought he was such a nerd? “I could totally use all the help I can get.”
They were discussing training strategy when Carole emerged from Comanche’s stall a few minutes later. “Well, that was the last one,” she announced, dropping her pitchfork on the full wheelbarrow. “I’d better get moving. But I should have a break in a little while. Want to go for a ride?” She glanced at Stevie.
“Sure,” Stevie agreed, a little distracted. Her head was swimming with her new plans. How could she ever have thought the New Year was going to be dull? Turning herself and Belle into an event team was going to be a real challenge. And there was nothing Stevie liked more than a challenge. “Just come find me when you’re ready.”
Carole nodded and hurried off, pushing the wheelbarrow down the aisle toward the back exit. Stevie turned her attention back to George. She had a million and one questions for him. She couldn’t wait to get started.
Lisa Atwood cut the engine of her car and just sat there for a moment, gazing at the grove of oak trees beyond Pine Hollow’s small parking lot. Suddenly noticing that she was gripping the steering wheel, she smiled ruefully at herself.
Wow, she thought, relaxing her hands and rubbing them on her well-worn rust-colored breeches. I guess Mom’s really getting to me. It’s a good thing I got out of the house when I did. If she gave me one more sympathetic look or murmured one more word about my “repression of deep-seated feelings of pain and rejection,” I would have screamed.
She thought about that for a minute or two until she started to get chilly. Finally, shaking off her thoughts, she climbed out of the car. Pocketing her keys, she started across the parking lot, gravel crunching under the hard soles of her paddock boots. Although she hadn’t called Stevie or Carole before coming over, she hoped to find one or both of her best friends at Pine Hollow that day. She needed something familiar, physical, and real—something like a nice, long, relaxing trail ride—to help chase away the feeling of restlessness that seemed to be following her around for the past couple of days.
I guess it’s that postholiday blah thing happening, she thought as she hurried toward the stable building. Of course, this year I have a few more things to recover from than too much tinsel and fruitcake.
She grimaced, realizing just how true that was. For the past year, Lisa had been dating Stevie’s twin brother, Alex. They had been in love, and up until a couple of months earlier, Lisa had been certain that they were meant to be together forever. Then, somehow, things had changed. She and Alex had started spending more time arguing than being happy. He had grown insecure about their relationship, and she had gotten tired of constantly having to reassure him. Finally they had both realized they’d grown apart without really noticing, and on New Year’s Eve they’d agreed to end their relationship.
By that point, the decision had been more of a relief than anything else. But as many times as Lisa tried to explain that to her mother, the message just didn’t seem to be getting through.
“Don’t hold back, darling,” Mrs. Atwood had crooned after dinner the evening before, her voice dripping bitter sympathy. “I know exactly how you feel.” Lisa had almost been able to read her mind at that point—she was sure her mother was thinking about the day Lisa’s father had walked out after twenty-seven years of marriage. Mrs. Atwood still hadn’t adjusted to the divorce, though she’d spent enough time and money trying. She still attended weekly group therapy meetings, better known as gripe therapy to Lisa and her friends. And now she seemed unable to understand that Lisa didn’t feel a need to cry and moan and rehash every moment of her own breakup. After dealing with the idea of it for so long, she was pretty much resigned to it. A little sad, yes. A little uncertain about the future, certainly. But any twinge of regret or doubt or bitterness was behind her already.
Still, after hanging around with that bunch all this time, I shouldn’t be surprised if Mom can’t conceive of someone moving on after a breakup, Lisa thought with another grimace as she reached the stable’s wide double doors, which were shut against the January chill. None of her gripe therapy pals seems to be capable of moving on from a hangnail, let alone a breakup. It’s probably just as well that I didn’t tell her about—
“Scott!” she blurted out as she pushed open the door, almost banging it into the tall, go
od-looking guy standing just inside. Feeling a little flustered, she noticed that Scott Forester wasn’t alone. “Um, I mean, hi, Scott and Callie. How’s it going, you two?”
Scott and Callie both greeted her, but Lisa only seemed to be able to focus on Scott. “Hey, Lisa,” he said, taking a step toward her. “What’s up?”
“Thanks for the ride, Scott,” Callie told her brother. “Don’t bother to wait—I’ll walk home when I’m done.” Giving Lisa a quick wave, she hurried off in the direction of her horse’s stall.
“That’s my sister for you,” Scott joked fondly. “There’s no time for chitchat when there are horses to be ridden.”
“I know just how she feels,” Lisa replied with a smile. “Um, by the way, happy New Year.”
“Ditto.” Scott smiled tentatively. “So … um, how are you doing?”
His tone was carefully neutral, but Lisa guessed he was fishing for information. Everyone at Pine Hollow must have heard that she and Alex had broken up, and Scott had more than a passing interest in that particular topic. He and Lisa had been out on several dates during the weeks when she and Alex were experimenting with seeing other people. At first Lisa had been reluctant to get involved with him, even casually—it just seemed too awkward, since they shared most of the same friends. But after a certain point, she’d been forced to admit that there was a serious mutual attraction brewing between them. Even at that moment, standing in the dusty stable entryway, dressed in ratty old riding clothes, she could feel the sparks flying.
She blushed, hoping that Scott couldn’t read her mind. “I’m okay,” she said. “Great, actually.”
“Really?” Scott looked hopeful but not completely convinced.
Lisa nodded firmly. “Really,” she said. “The past is over. I’m ready to face the New Year—no regrets.”
“Cool,” Scott said with a broad smile. “Then how about if I take you to dinner tomorrow night to celebrate your New Year’s perspective?”
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