“Carole, what’s on your mind, child?” Mrs. Reg asked gently as she poked her head through the tackroom door.
“Oh, nothing,” Carole said as vaguely as she could, trying not to look toward Max’s office.
“Well, I can’t believe there’s nothing on your mind when I see you putting Delilah’s tack away upside down. And you can’t convince me you’re not worried about something when I watched you rinse out Cobalt’s bucket six times—after you’d filled it once.”
Carole smiled weakly. “That obvious, huh?”
“Yes, it is. Now straighten out the tack and come tell me what’s bothering you so.”
Carole was relieved to have a chance to talk about her worries. Probably Mrs. Reg couldn’t change anything, but maybe just talking about it all would help. She turned Delilah’s bridle right side up, straightened out the saddle, and went to sit on the bench near Mrs. Reg’s desk.
“It’s my friends,” she began.
“They’ve been hurting your feelings?” Mrs. Reg asked. Her bright blue eyes flashed in anger on Carole’s behalf.
“Oh, no. They’ve been hurting themselves,” Carole explained, even though she knew it didn’t make very much sense. “I’ve tried and tried to help them, but I’m just so afraid that it isn’t enough. If I could just—” Carole let the words hang in the air. She didn’t know how to finish the sentence. What, after all, could she do for her friends?
“Now, wait a minute,” Mrs. Reg said. “There’s only so much you can do for friends, Carole. And sometimes, the best thing you can do is to let them do something for themselves. I remember I had a horse once—a beauty, he was. The tack that came with him included a really harsh bit.” Carole knew that meant that every time the rider put pressure on the reins, the horse would really feel it. Even the wildest horse would have trouble ignoring a command from a tough bit.
“Anyway,” Mrs. Reg continued, “each time I rode that horse, I kept giving him firmer signals with the reins and the bit. We had a very uncomfortable relationship, you know. Then one day, the bit broke. The only extra one around was a jointed snaffle. I figured it would be a disaster to ride with it because the snaffle is so gentle. But I had to exercise the horse, so I tried it. It was like night and day, I’ll tell you. That horse had known all along what it was he was supposed to do. It was just that he didn’t like the way I was trying to control him. When he had a little bit of freedom, he did just exactly the right thing.”
“I guess I shouldn’t interfere so much in my friends’ lives, huh?” Carole asked after a pause.
“No, that’s not exactly what I mean, Carole. I think you should give people the help they need, but when it comes to the things they have to do by themselves, let them do it. Good friends always come through.”
“Always?”
“Well, usually,” Mrs. Reg corrected herself.
“Thanks, Mrs. Reg,” Carole said as the older woman left the tack room. Still, she didn’t feel comforted. It was one thing for her friends to do the right thing. It was another to expect either Mrs. Atwood or Max to do the right thing.
What were they all doing in his office for so long?
“SEE YOU LATER, Mom.” Lisa’s voice emerged from the silence. Carole sat up straight. She could practically hear her heart beat, she was so nervous about the outcome of this big meeting. She knew that Lisa and Stevie would be in the tack room in a minute. They had arranged to meet there before class. She stared at the door, barely able to contain her excitement. She strained to hear Lisa’s and Stevie’s footsteps.
The door opened and Stevie and Lisa appeared, solemn-faced. Then, as Carole watched, bewildered, the two of them exchanged glances and waited for the door to close soundly behind them. When it was shut, they both jumped up in the air and yelled “Yahoooooo!” at the same time.
It could only mean one thing—victory!
“What happened? Are you going? Both of you?” Carole could barely get the questions out fast enough.
“You bet we are,” Stevie said positively. “Max was just great—he was wonderful. I’m telling you, Carole, he was fantastic. I didn’t know he would do such a thing, but he was outstanding.”
“What happened?” Carole asked, practically dying of curiosity.
“You tell, Lisa. She’s your mother,” Stevie said, passing the honors on to her friend.
“Oh, Max was great,” Lisa said.
“I know that. We all know that,” Carole said. “Just what did he do?”
“He convinced my mother to let me go on the MTO on the grounds that Stevie would be my partner.”
“Stevie?” Carole asked. Stevie was a good rider and all, but no doubt about it, Carole was the best rider in the class. If Lisa needed a partner, which, in Carole’s opinion, she did not, Carole would have been the likely candidate.
“How come Stevie?” Carole asked, feeling a little hurt.
“Because he told her that Lisa was helping me with my math project. And then he told her I’d asked him for a chance to help Lisa with something in return. That was news to me, but it worked! Lisa’s mother thought that was a great idea. So did I!”
Suddenly, Carole saw the light. Max had maneuvered Mrs. Atwood into letting Lisa come on the MTO! He was something else.
“Max did this with a straight face?” Carole asked.
“Just barely,” Stevie admitted. Suddenly the three girls were overcome with relief and joy. Carole started giggling first, and then Stevie burst into laughter. In seconds, Lisa was laughing along with them both and then the three of them hugged each other with joy.
“Yahoooooo!” Carole cried.
That said it all.
Just at that moment, the door to the tack room opened and Veronica diAngelo sauntered in. Carole was surprised to see her there so late after class.
“I had to talk to Max about private jumping lessons,” Veronica said, explaining her presence. She sat down on the bench to remove her riding boots. “And what are you doing here so late?” she asked.
“We were talking to Max about the MTO,” Lisa volunteered. “And he said I could go—and Stevie will be my partner! Isn’t that great?”
“Oh, sure, great,” Veronica said. She didn’t sound like she meant it at all. Veronica finished changing her shoes, then stood up and left the tack room as regally as she had entered it.
As soon as the door closed, the three girls burst into giggles.
“Oh, sure, great!” Stevie mimicked Veronica. “Did you ever hear such insincerity?”
“What made you tell her?” Carole asked Lisa.
Lisa thought for a moment. “I think I wanted her to know that Max believes I’m a good enough rider to go on the MTO when she didn’t think I was a good enough rider to be her friend.”
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing,” Stevie said.
“What?”
“Not only are you a good enough rider to be my friend, but you’re also a great math student and I think it’s time to get back to work on Project Math Project—due in three days!” She paused for a second and then went on. “You know, today I feel so good, I could add up a column of fifty-six numbers and not make a mistake!”
“Let’s not waste a second, then!” Lisa teased. “Let’s go!”
Together, the three of them headed for Stevie’s house.
“NOW, STEVIE, HERE’S how you set up the problems. If you do the math, I’ll fill in your answers on the work sheet. We don’t have all the information—we know some stuff is definitely missing, but you’ve got to start the calculations,” Lisa told her in a very businesslike manner.
Stevie took the paper and calculator and sat at her desk to begin her work—nearly the final steps of the project.
Neither Stevie nor Lisa was aware of Carole. She was sprawled under Stevie’s bed where she’d chased Stevie’s cat, Madonna, who’d run off with her pen. In the dim light, Carole could see that the cat was crouched over a pile of little crumpled bits of paper. Madonna cocked her right front paw a
nd began batting one of the pieces of balled-up paper. It skittered across the floor, and the cat pounced on it with glee.
Carole laughed at Madonna’s antics. The cat attacked another ball of crumpled paper, while Carole watched, fascinated. Then it struck her! “Eureka!” she yelled.
“Don’t distract me—I’m adding up a whole bunch of numbers,” Stevie said irritably.
“Hold it a second,” Carole said, knowing her voice was muffled under the bed. She waddled backwards to get out. As she moved, she collected Madonna’s cache of paper balls and brought them with her. “You’ve got to stop adding that column because I think—if my eyes and brain haven’t deceived me—that you have a whole bunch more to add in!” Proudly, Carole displayed her booty.
Lisa gasped. “The missing data!” She grabbed for the papers.
“Oh, no! More numbers to add!” Stevie groaned.
“But now we have everything,” Lisa said, trying to comfort her. She smoothed out each scrap of paper, deciphering Stevie’s scribbles—something she’d had an awful lot of practice doing over the last few days.
Stevie sighed, but she took the papers and methodically began adding them to her work sheets. There was a lot more work to do, but Stevie seemed determined to do it. Carole just hoped she could do it by bedtime tonight. The report was due first thing in the morning.
A few hours later, it was all done. The final calculation had been entered, the final analysis made, the last penny accounted for.
“I hope I get the grade I need on this. I don’t think I’ve ever worked harder on something for school than I did on this,” Stevie said, staring at the finished product.
“Me, neither,” Lisa said. “Even on something of my own!”
The next morning, Stevie was out of bed early. She wanted to have one last look at her math project. That project represented not only a lot of work on her part—and her friends’, as well—but it was almost as if it were the MTO. She reached for the cover to open it, but her hand stopped. She didn’t dare look inside. What if it looked awful to her this morning? It was better not to know.
Later that Friday morning, she put it on her teacher’s desk and walked to her own seat. She never looked back, but at that moment, she had the feeling she understood why her mother had behaved so strangely the first day Michael had gone off to nursery school. The project was her baby.
She crossed her fingers.
ON SATURDAY, THE three girls had riding class together. They were working on the proper way to sit in the saddle at a canter.
Lisa was really glad that it was hard to do because it would have been impossible to concentrate on anything easy.
“Now slide in the saddle, rock with the horse, Lisa!” Max said. “And don’t hold on!” Lisa let go of the front of the saddle and tried to slide. “Relax!” Max said. How could she relax? She tried it. It didn’t work. She didn’t feel relaxed about Stevie, but she must have been a little more relaxed about cantering. “Good, Lisa,” Max said. “Much better.” That was how much he knew.
ON MONDAY AFTER school, the call came. Carole had been waiting to hear from Stevie for so long that she was beginning to think she’d miss the waiting when it was over. But that was silly, of course.
“I got it back,” Stevie said as soon as Carole answered the phone.
“And?” Carole said, the phone pressed tightly to her ear.
“I can barely say it,” Stevie said.
“Say what?” Carole asked, fearing the worst.
Stevie cleared her throat. “A-plus. I got an A-plus on my math report.”
Carole whooped with joy.
“That means that my term grade is now going to be a B-plus. That’s the best I’ve done in math since third grade! Can you believe it? It’s true!”
“Wow,” Carole uttered in relief. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations. Have you called Lisa?”
“I already did,” Stevie said. “After all, I couldn’t possibly have done it without her. And she’s invited you and me to come over to her house Saturday after class for a celebration. Okay with you?”
“Great with me,” Carole said, grinning broadly. “Saturday will be great. I’ll see you tomorrow at class.”
And when she hung up the phone, Carole shouted “Yahooooo!”
“What’s got you so excited, baby?” her father called from the living room.
“Oh—just everything, Daddy. Everything’s great! Say, Daddy, what’s round and purple and gets A-pluses on her math projects?”
Not surprisingly, her father didn’t answer.
“Stevie the Grape,” Carole said, giggling to herself.
“OKAY, SO YOU don’t think I should take a dress,” Lisa said jokingly.
“Only if it’s a designer dress and your mother insists,” Stevie teased her. Lisa grinned in response. The three girls were gathered in Lisa’s room, chatting happily about the MTO, deciding what to take with them.
“I guess I will be able to take my CD player after all,” Stevie said.
“Right, but don’t bring along any music that will frighten the horses,” Carole said. “Just something that will frighten Veronica—”
“Hey, great idea! Maybe I’ll see if I can buy a CD of creepy night sounds. I still have some money left and, after all, Betsy owes me some from the job she did.”
Lisa gave her a look. “If you don’t mind, Stevie, I think that today should be the end of all talk about anything to do with the math project.”
“Okay,” Stevie said agreeably. “So today is the end of one thing—and the beginning of another. But what’s it the beginning of?”
“The MTO,” Lisa said.
“No,” Stevie contradicted her. “The MTO starts next Friday afternoon and goes for the entire holiday weekend. Today is the start of something else, I think, but what?”
Both girls looked over at Carole, who was sitting in the overstuffed chair by the window. “Carole, you with us?” Lisa asked gently.
Carole nodded. “You know, I just keep thinking how lucky I am to have two friends like you,” she said.
“Now, don’t get sappy on me,” Stevie teased.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Carole said, grinning. “I’m just happy, but also a little amazed. I mean, I think it would be hard for me to find two girls who are so different from me—and from each other. But we’re all friends.”
They all paused to think. “I mean, we’ve got Stevie the practical joker—” Carole continued.
“Who promises not to do any jokes at her friends’ expense,” Stevie said solemnly.
“Then there’s Lisa, the straight-A student who—”
“Helps Stevie ace her math project,” Lisa said.
“And Carole the flake who misses buses and scatters papers. But who can find the critical piece of paper under Stevie’s bed at just the right moment.” Carole paused. They all looked at one another, more pleased than distressed at their differences.
“But,” Carole continued, “we also have something in common. Something very important to each of us. We all love horses. We love riding them, we love training them, we love taking care of them.”
“Well, I’m not crazy about mucking out stalls,” Stevie corrected Carole.
“I never said you were crazy,” Carole teased her. “I just said you were horse crazy. We all are, aren’t we?”
“You bet,” Lisa agreed. Stevie nodded as well.
“Okay, so how about this? Today marks the beginning of The Saddle Club. All you have to do to belong is to be a friend to the other members, which may include things like helping on math projects, or saddling difficult horses, or promising to be a partner on an overnight trip—and you have to be horse crazy, right?”
“But mostly you have to be horse crazy?” Stevie suggested. She didn’t want to do another math project.
“Mostly,” Carole agreed.
First, they all shook on it. And then they all hugged. Each knew that being horse crazy was going to be great.
�
��To The Saddle Club!” Lisa said, lifting her soda can high into the air.
“To The Saddle Club!” her friends echoed, clinking their sodas against hers.
It was a wonderful sound.
About the Author
Bonnie Bryant is the author of nearly a hundred books about horses, including the Saddle Club series, the Saddle Club Super Editions, and the Pony Tales series.
Horse Crazy Page 9