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Stable Hearts

Page 9

by Bonnie Bryant


  “Mr. Stowe?” asked Stevie. “Why wasn’t he dancing with Mrs. Reg?”

  “Oh, he was, it’s just—”

  “Go change your clothes and come sit down,” Lisa said. “Then we can talk about everything in order.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Stevie grinned and saluted. “What this Saddle Club needs is organization!”

  Lisa threw a pretzel at her. Stevie ducked and ran into the bathroom. Lisa grinned. A long, long time ago, when they had first started The Saddle Club, Lisa had tried to make up a lot of rules. They didn’t work out well. The two that lasted were the only important ones, Lisa thought—being horse-crazy, and helping each other. She smiled. Between Stevie and Dime, she felt as if she’d done both today. Then she laughed.

  “What are you thinking about?” Carole asked, looking at her strangely.

  “You—keeping me away from Dusty!”

  Carole snorted and joined in her laughter. When Stevie came back into the room, Lisa said in an orderly voice, “Stephanie, now you can tell us about your dance.”

  Stevie plopped down on one of Lisa’s cushions. “You know, I had a really great time,” she said. “It was weird, because aside from A.J. and Bart I only saw two other people whose names I even knew. But A.J. and Bart introduced me to some of their friends, and everyone was nice. Plus, I didn’t have to feel self-conscious about how I looked when I was dancing. None of those people are ever going to see me again!”

  “Unless you go to Phil’s dance next year,” Lisa teased.

  Stevie looked thoughtful. “True. Well, in that case, maybe I’ll wear a wig.”

  She smiled and continued. “I have to admit, Phil really did do a great job on his decorations. The place didn’t look or smell like a cafeteria at all!” She tossed the sweater she’d borrowed back to Carole. “Smell,” she directed.

  Carole sniffed. “You’re right, it doesn’t smell like a cafeteria. It doesn’t smell like anything.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” asked Lisa.

  Carole laughed. “I think so.”

  Stevie opened some of the cans of soda Lisa had brought up and passed them around. Lisa poured the pretzels into a bowl so that they could all eat at once. “So, you had a good Valentine’s after all,” she said to Stevie.

  Stevie lay back and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “In a way, I had the best day possible,” she said. “I mean, I would rather have been with Phil, of course—but that’s the point, isn’t it? I figured out that being with Phil was what was important to me.”

  “And he figured out that being with you was what was important to him,” Carole replied.

  Stevie grinned. “Yeah. Wonderful, isn’t it? It wasn’t exactly the night of romance I was hoping for, but in some ways it’s better. But tell me, what happened at Pine Hollow?”

  “First of all, Dime really does seem better,” Carole said excitedly.

  Stevie sat up. “Well, sure. We expected that.”

  “No, we hoped it,” Carole corrected her. “That’s not quite the same thing.”

  “Anyway,” Lisa said, “we went back to check on him when the dance was over. He was sound asleep, lying down—but he was lying with his back right against the wall next to Penny’s stall!”

  “And on the other side,” Carole said, “Penny was sleeping with her back right against the wall next to Dime!”

  “It was the sweetest thing I ever saw,” Lisa said. “I never would have guessed he was so attached to her. We didn’t wake him, but we’re sure he’s going to be fine.”

  “Thanks to Lisa, who figured it out,” Carole said. Lisa grinned. She did feel just a little proud of herself. “Dime ate all his grain, too,” Carole reported.

  “Great,” Stevie said. “Now, tell me about this waltzing stuff. Why wasn’t Mr. Stowe dancing with Mrs. Reg?”

  “Oh, he was. He danced at least half the dances with her! I think he was just dancing with us to be nice.” Lisa smiled, remembering her airy waltzes. “He’s a very good dancer.”

  “We didn’t dance with anybody else,” reported Carole. “We were a little busy—avoiding a new admirer of Lisa’s.”

  Stevie shrieked and demanded to know all the details. Lisa and Carole told her the whole story of Dusty. “In the end, you’ll never guess who danced with him!” said Carole. “Veronica!”

  Stevie’s mouth fell open. “No!”

  “Seriously. I don’t know why—except she was getting pretty desperate, I think. Simon wasn’t even noticing her. The girl he brought to the dance seemed really nice. And I guess Dusty was wearing some kind of designer clothes—we didn’t really notice until he took the dance floor, but you know how that kind of thing appeals to Veronica. He seemed like an okay guy, you know, except that he was so young—”

  “—and that he only liked me because he thought I was a bad rider!” Lisa cut in.

  “He might have had other reasons,” Carole said supportively.

  “Who cares?” Lisa asked. “One thing I learned tonight was that I don’t need a boyfriend to have a nice time at a dance.”

  “Me either,” said Carole emphatically.

  “Me either!” Stevie said with a laugh.

  “Mrs. Reg, on the other hand …” Lisa giggled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was flirting!”

  “She was flirting!” Carole said. “And Mr. Stowe was flirting back!” She turned to Stevie. “That’s one thing I’m sorry you missed. I was really glad that all our interference didn’t stop them from—well—from flirting. From getting to know each other.”

  “I can’t believe we didn’t realize what was going on.” Stevie groaned, but the groan turned into a yawn. “I hate to say this, but I’m beat. Rock, paper, scissors for the bed.”

  “One, two, three!” Stevie and Carole both threw scissors. Lisa threw rock, so she won.

  “Ha,” she said, climbing into her own bed.

  “It’s only fair,” Stevie said. She and Carole rolled out their sleeping bags. Stevie moved the snacks to the top of Lisa’s dresser, where she could find them if she happened to be hungry in the night.

  “Mr. Stowe might not be the best rider in the world,” Carole said as she climbed into her sleeping bag, “but he’s an awfully nice person. Mrs. Reg deserves someone as nice as him. And he probably likes horses enough. I can’t imagine Mrs. Reg getting serious about anyone who didn’t ride at all.”

  “Deborah hardly rode before she met Max,” Lisa reminded them.

  “Yeah,” said Stevie, settling onto her pillow with a sigh. “As long as Mr. Stowe has the riding ability to handle nice, long, romantic trail rides, that’s probably all he needs. And he does, so it’ll be okay.”

  A sudden thought made Lisa giggle. “I forgot to tell even you, Carole,” she said. “While you were dancing your second waltz with Mr. Stowe, Mrs. Reg came up to me and accused me of making her seem like an old witch! She said that somehow poor Howard—that’s what she called Mr. Stowe, poor Howard—got the impression that he had to work around the stable all the time in order to impress her!”

  Stevie and Carole laughed appreciatively. “What did you say?” asked Carole.

  “I told her that we had to work all the time in order to impress her,” Lisa said. “She just drew herself up and said, kind of royally, ‘There’s a time for work and a time for play!’ ” Lisa yawned and reached for the light switch.

  “I guess Mrs. Reg has found her time for play,” Stevie said.

  “I’m happy for her—and for Mr. Stowe, and Dime, and you, Stevie,” said Lisa. She turned out the light.

  “Oh,” Carole said as the room was plunged into darkness, “but don’t you wish there were a few decent boys at Pine Hollow!”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BONNIE BRYANT is the author of more than a hundred books about horses, including The Saddle Club series, Saddle Club Super Editions, the Pony Tails series, and Pine Hollow, which follows the Saddle Club girls into their teens. She has also written novels and movie
novelizations under her married name, B. B. Hiller.

  Ms. Bryant began writing The Saddle Club in 1986. Although she had done some riding before that, she intensified her studies then and found herself learning right along with her characters Stevie, Carole, and Lisa. She claims that they are all much better riders than she is.

  Ms. Bryant was born and raised in New York City. She still lives there, in Greenwich Village, with her two sons.

 

 

 


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