Hobbyhorse

by Bonnie Bryant

  “It must be pretty serious if she was crying. We’ll talk to her as soon as we can,” Lisa said, and they hurried on to the pasture.

  CAROLE TOOK AMELIA into the tack room and showed her the row of halters hanging on the wall. “This one belongs to Patch,” Carole said. She pulled it off the high hook, attached a lead rope to it, and handed it to Amelia. Amelia slung it expertly onto her shoulder. Carole smiled. Whatever her shortcomings might be, the girl really did seem to care about horses.

  “Why do the hats spell brat?” Amelia asked. Carole groaned. A bunch of extra riding helmets hung on a peg-board on the tack room wall, and it was one of Stevie’s favorite pastimes to arrange them so they spelled a word. When had Stevie had time to make them say brat? Carole couldn’t remember Stevie being out of her sight once all morning.

  “Umm, I don’t think they’re meant to spell anything,” Carole said. “I think they just accidentally got put up like that.” She led Amelia out of the room. To get to the back pasture, they had to walk past the stalls with the Pony Tails’ ponies. Corey, Jasmine, and May were all tacking up. As Carole and Amelia walked by, the Pony Tails burst into fits of laughter. Amelia was chattering about halters and didn’t seem to notice, but Carole had to stifle a giggle. So that was who had rearranged the hats! The Pony Tails had found a way to get even without—quite—breaking their promise to Lisa.

  OUTSIDE, MAX RATTLED a bucket of grain near the gate until the whole herd of horses stopped grazing and began to walk slowly toward him. “Okay,” he said, consulting his list, “Stevie, you get Nickel and give him to Joey. Lisa, find Barq for Betsy. Hi, Carole!” Max looked up and grinned. “Since you’re taking care of Amelia, you can get Patch.”

  Amelia waited at the gate while The Saddle Club slipped into the pasture. “I’m riding Patch,” she announced importantly. “Max said he was a very good horse. One of the best.”

  Jessica Adler, who was Amelia’s age and a friend of all the Pony Tails, spoke up. “He is a good horse, and he’s a very, very, very easy horse. I rode Patch in my first lesson, but when I got to be a good rider Max let me have someone else.”

  Across the field, Stevie and Lisa watched the exchange.

  “Look at Amelia. She’s getting all red and mad again,” Stevie said.

  “I know,” Lisa said with a shake of her head. There was nothing she could do about it. Both Barq and Nickel had decided that they liked their freedom, and while they weren’t running from the girls, they had reversed direction and were walking to the far end of the field. Stevie and Lisa had to walk after them.

  “Amelia,” Carole called from the edge of the pasture, “come over here by the fence. There are some things I need to tell you.”

  Carole thought Amelia looked a little blotchy and grouchy again. She briefly wondered why, then quit worrying about it. Amelia’s natural expression wasn’t all that pleasant anyway. Probably nothing was wrong.

  “See?” Carole said, “I’ve wrapped the lead rope around Patch’s neck, so I can hang on to him while I put his halter on.”

  “That’s Patch?” Amelia sounded disgusted.

  Carole patted the horse affectionately. “Yeah, silly boy, he found some mud to roll in. He probably had an itch on his back. It’s going to take you a while to groom him.”

  “But he’s ugly,” Amelia said. “He doesn’t look like Prancer at all. And Jessica said he was—”

  Patch had big knees and a thick head and wasn’t built very well, but he had a wonderful heart. “He’s a good horse,” Carole interrupted, speaking firmly. “Now, listen, Amelia, because this is important. The one thing you have to know about Patch is that loud noises frighten him. You have to be careful—”

  Max had hung his metal grain bucket on the fence post near Amelia. Before Carole could finish speaking, Amelia turned on her heel, grabbed the bucket, and threw it against the pasture’s metal watering trough. Wham! The crash was deafening. The Pony Clubbers jumped.

  “Aiyh!” shouted a startled Carole. Patch leaped sideways so fast that the lead rope tore from Carole’s hands. He squealed and reared; the other horses, also unnerved by the noise, milled in panic. Patch took off galloping for the safety of the field’s far side. The other horses began to run, too. Suddenly it was a stampede.

  Lisa couldn’t believe her eyes. All the horses in the pasture were galloping out of control. She and Stevie ran for the pasture fence. Lisa looked back over her shoulder. “Oh no!” she screamed. “Max!”

  Max had decided to come out and help Lisa and Stevie. He was halfway across the field, in the center of the pasture, right in the path of the panicked horses.

  “Max!” Carole’s cry echoed Lisa’s. Max turned just as the first horses were upon him. Carole covered her eyes.

  Max was going to be trampled!

  IT WAS TOO LATE for Max to try to escape. Carole uncovered her eyes and saw Max’s own eyes widen, but he kept his body perfectly still. Carole knew that the horses wouldn’t deliberately bump Max, but if one horse ran into another or didn’t pay attention, Max could be trampled.

  The horses swerved around him. One of them knocked Max’s hat to the ground, but in a moment Max was safe. The horses galloped down to the far end of the field and whinnied and snorted and milled around. They were no longer running as a herd, and the danger was over.

  Carole looked for Lisa and Stevie and was relieved to see them on the outside of the fence. They slipped back through the rails and caught up to Max, and all three came back to the gate.

  The Pony Clubbers stood in shocked silence. They all realized how close Max had come to disaster. The only person making any noise at all was Amelia, who was sobbing violently. Carole hoped that Amelia had learned her lesson. If Max had been killed, it would have been her fault.

  “What happened?” Lisa asked as she came hurrying up. She bent over her cousin. “Amelia?”

  “Max!” Amelia launched herself, still sobbing, at him. She threw her arms around his legs, and when he bent down she cried against his shoulder. “Oh, Max! I was so scared! I thought you were going to die!” She sobbed harder, and the Pony Clubbers clustered around her while Max patted her shoulder. Lisa felt sorry for Amelia. Whatever had spooked Patch had obviously spooked Amelia, too.

  “Patch is a scary horse!” Amelia sobbed.

  Lisa remembered the “scary” guest room. Her back was still aching slightly from sleeping on the floor. Her sympathy toward Amelia began to fade.

  “It’s okay,” Max soothed her. “I’m okay, Patch is okay, you’re okay. Nobody got hurt.”

  With all her crying, Amelia had claimed everyone’s attention. Everyone looked concerned about her—everyone, Stevie realized with a shock, except Carole. Carole stood alone by the water trough with a bucket in her hands, and she looked livid. Stevie blinked. She had never, ever, seen her friend so angry.

  “Carole should have been more careful!” Amelia sobbed.

  “More careful with what?” Max asked.

  “She knocked that bucket over! She was telling me how Patch is scared of loud noises, and then she knocked the bucket off the fence, and Patch jumped and I was so-oo-o s-scar-ed!” Amelia broke into a torrent of fresh sobs. “I think she did it on purpose! She doesn’t like me!”

  Lisa couldn’t believe her ears. Carole was never careless around horses, though even she sometimes had accidents. But Lisa knew for a fact that Carole hadn’t dropped the bucket on purpose. She looked around the group of riders. “You know that isn’t true,” Lisa said. “Carole wouldn’t do that to you, Amelia.”

  “Did anyone actually see what happened?” Max asked quietly. No one had.

  “Max,” Lisa said quickly, “you can’t possibly believe—”

  “Max,” Stevie cut in urgently, “Carole would never, ever—”

  “I was so scared!” Amelia wailed. “She did it on purpose. She doesn’t like me, and she wanted to scare me.”

  “Carole, what happened?” Max asked.

  Carole looked strange
ly pale. “I told her Patch spooked at loud noises,” she said, in an oddly tight voice. “And then—”

  “Patch spooked! He nearly ran you over, Max! He’s a bad, scary horse, and I don’t want to ride him, not ever!”

  Max looked as though he couldn’t stand another second of hysteria. He stood up, patted Amelia absentmindedly, and looked around at his riders. “All right,” he said, “let’s put this behind us. Amelia, stop crying. Carole, I’d like to talk to you in my office in five minutes. Stevie, take that bucket from Carole and go get some more grain. We’re going to have to catch those horses if we ever want to ride.”

  “Max—” Lisa said.

  “Later, Lisa!”

  “But Max—”

  “Go get the grain, Stevie!”

  When Max spoke like that, they knew better than to argue. Stevie gave Carole’s hand a quick squeeze as she took the bucket from her. Carole looked at them all and lifted her chin. She hung Patch’s lead rope and halter carefully on the fence, then walked slowly back into the stable. She didn’t look at, or speak to, anyone.

  Lisa’s heart went out to her friend. Even though the stampede had been frightening, Amelia was blowing things way out of proportion. The little brat was just looking for an excuse not to ride Patch.

  “Go get Barq, please, Lisa,” Max directed wearily. Lisa wanted to go after Carole instead. But what had Max said? He’d talk to Carole in five minutes. Everything would be cleared up then.

  Lisa turned back to the pasture. “Just keep me away from that brat,” Lisa whispered to Stevie, who had come back with more grain. “I might resort to violence.”

  “She’s not Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” Stevie said in agreement. “She’s Dr. Jekyll and the whole Hyde family, Hyde, Hyde, and Hyde Junior.”

  Lisa sighed. “How long is it until next Saturday?”

  “Forever,” said Stevie. “Forever.”

  “OKAY, ADAM, HERE’S Calypso for you,” Lisa said, handing the mare’s lead rope to him. She shut the gate. It had only taken a few minutes to round up all the horses and get them to their riders, but to Lisa it felt like a few years. She couldn’t wait to talk to Carole.

  Amelia hovered near Max’s side. “Who am I going to ride now, Max?”

  Lisa looked at Stevie, who nodded and came over to her side. “Are we finished?”

  “I think so,” Stevie said. “Except for Patch.” They walked closer to Max and Amelia.

  “Patch will be okay now,” Max was saying. “He settles down pretty quickly.”

  “But he’s too scary! I can’t ride him now, I’m too afraid!” Amelia again seemed on the point of tears. “Can’t I ride Prancer?”

  Max sighed. Lisa thought he was starting to look a little tired of Amelia. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you take Delilah instead of Patch? She’s a very nice mare, and she’s still in her stall, so you can go inside and start tacking her up right away.”

  “Is she like Prancer?” Amelia persisted.

  “She’s a palomino,” Max said. “Her coat is golden blond, and her mane and tail are almost white. Her stall is the third one on the right, and her saddle, bridle, and grooming bucket are marked with her name in the tack room.”

  “Oh, I like palominos! Thank you, Max!” Amelia skipped into the stable.

  “ ‘Is she like Prancer?’ ‘She’s a palomino’?” Stevie repeated quizzically. “Max, that makes absolutely no sense. Prancer isn’t a palomino.”

  “It seemed like the easiest answer to give,” Max said. He shook his head ruefully. “What a ruckus. Let’s go talk to Carole and get to the bottom of this.”

  To their surprise, Carole was not waiting in Max’s office. Lisa and Stevie checked Starlight’s stall and found the gelding alone, contentedly munching on a rack of new hay. Carole’s soaking bucket and package of salts had been cleared away, and all her grooming tools, which had been scattered across a hay bale in the aisle, were gone.

  Lisa and Stevie met Max coming out of the tack room. “She’s not with Starlight,” Stevie said. “Did you check the locker room?”

  “Yes, and she isn’t there,” Max said. “And her coat is gone and her cubby door is closed. But did you see this?” He pointed to the brat spelled out on the hat rack.

  Stevie flinched. “I didn’t do it, Max. I would have, but I didn’t have time.”

  “I know you didn’t,” Max said grimly. “But you’ve spelled things in the past. I’m sure that’s where Carole got the idea.”

  Lisa was horrified. “Oh, Max, Carole didn’t do that! She wouldn’t!”

  “I agree, Lisa, it isn’t like Carole at all,” Max said. “Nor is it like her to spook a horse on purpose.” He marched back to his office, and the girls followed him.

  “You can’t believe Carole did that,” Stevie protested. “Max! This is Carole. Not me, not Veronica, Carole.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Max sat down in his chair and shook his head. “I know that had to have been an accident. But she really frightened Amelia—and no wonder—and she should at least apologize for that. Accidents happen, but I don’t want Amelia becoming too afraid to ride.”

  “Max!” Lisa couldn’t believe the way the conversation was heading. “Amelia is not going to be afraid. She’s horrible, she always has to have her own way—”

  “Did you see what happened?” Max asked.

  “No,” said Lisa. Stevie shook her head.

  “You’re forgetting that Amelia is only nine years old,” Max said. “She’s a little girl, and Lisa, I would expect you to show more patience toward your own cousin.”

  “I didn’t ask for her to come here this week,” Lisa said.

  Max sighed. “As for Carole,” he said, continuing as though Lisa hadn’t spoken, “it bothers me that she left without talking to me first, especially after I asked her to stay. When you next talk to Carole, tell her that if she still wants to be an assistant instructor this week, all she has to do is apologize to Amelia, and we’ll consider this whole incident over.”

  “Apologize to Amelia?” Stevie was astounded. “Max, you’ve got to be kidding!”

  “Do you really mean Carole can’t be an assistant instructor anymore?” Lisa asked. “That’s not fair!”

  “What if one of you kids had gotten hurt when the horses stampeded?” Max asked in return.

  Lisa opened her mouth to protest further when Amelia’s sweet voice trilled down the aisle: “Lisa? Can you help me? I found Delilah’s saddle, but it’s on one of the top racks and I can’t reach it.”

  “Go on,” Max said, with a wave of his hand. “Help her, and then you two tack up, too. We’ve had enough discussion. I’d like for you kids to ride sometime today.”

  Stevie let the door slam behind her as she and Lisa walked out. “I can’t believe it!” she said.

  “Neither can I,” Lisa said. She was so upset that she was trembling. How could Max doubt Carole? It wasn’t fair that Amelia should always get her own way! “I’ll see you outside,” Lisa told Stevie. “Tack up fast.”

  Stevie nodded. Every problem looked better from the back of a horse.

  “HERE,” LISA SAID, pulling Delilah’s saddle off its rack and thrusting it roughly into Amelia’s arms. She grabbed Prancer’s bridle and slung her saddle over her arm.

  “I found Delilah, and I groomed her and got her all ready except for the saddle,” Amelia said cheerfully, following Lisa down the aisle. “She’s very pretty, just like Max said.”

  Lisa didn’t respond. She went into Prancer’s stall and hugged the mare hard, breathing in her delicious horsey smell.

  “Max said Delilah was every bit as good as Prancer,” Amelia prattled on. “I agree. In fact, I think Delilah’s better-looking.”

  Lisa began to curry Prancer with big, sweeping strokes. “Oh, certainly,” she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Delilah, she’s the number one horse in the stable. The absolute best. In fact, I’m sure she’s a lot like Star the Wonder Horse at your stable. I can
’t believe Max is letting you ride her. You’re really lucky, Amelia.”

  Delilah was a good mare with a lovely disposition, but she certainly wasn’t the best horse in the stable. Thinking about it, Lisa realized that there probably was no “best” horse at Pine Hollow. They were all good at different things. Starlight could jump incredibly well, Calypso and Prancer both had fine pedigrees, Topside excelled at dressage. Tiny Quarter, one of the ponies, could jump a fence higher than his height, and he absolutely loved to be ridden cross-country. Old Patch was so sweet and careful that sometimes it seemed as if he, not Max, were teaching people how to ride. All these qualities were valuable. There was no one best horse any more than there was one best person at Pine Hollow.

  Lisa leaned down until she was looking Amelia right in the eye. “If you don’t tell Max the truth about that bucket, you’re going to have a very long week,” she said. “Now go tack up your horse, and leave me alone.”

  Amelia gave Lisa a small, slightly nervous smile. “But I did tell Max the truth about the bucket,” she said. She trotted off to Delilah’s stall. Lisa shook her head and turned back to Prancer.

  * * *

  ONCE SHE WAS in the saddle, Lisa’s day started to improve. Prancer seemed to sense Lisa’s mood and even seemed to be trying to cheer her up—the mare was being sweet and responsive. By the time they had jumped their first fence, Lisa felt much better. They flew over it with good style, and Lisa gave Prancer a pat.

  “That was nice,” Stevie whispered as Lisa got back in line.

  “Thanks,” Lisa whispered back. From the way the tense look had faded from Stevie’s face, Lisa guessed that Stevie was also grateful to be riding. Best of all, Lisa reflected, they didn’t have to deal with Amelia.

  All the younger, less experienced riders had been put into a separate group, and Red was working with them on transitions. He was having them play a familiar game: When he said “Canter!” the last rider to canter had to stop and come into the center of the ring. In the end there was only one rider left. Lisa nearly fell off Prancer when she looked over and saw that it was Amelia.