Headstrong

by Bonnie Bryant

  I don’t know why this has to be so hard, she thought, frustrated at her inability to make sense of it all. All I want to do is survive high school, then spend the rest of my life working with horses. What’s so complicated about that?

  But she knew better. How could she expect things to be simple when she couldn’t even figure out exactly what she wanted to do after high school? For as long as she could remember, she had been saying that she wanted to work with horses full-time someday. But what did that mean, really? As far as she could tell, it meant giving up parts of what she loved so that she could focus on other parts. If she decided to be a competitive rider, it meant there probably wouldn’t be much time for stuff like working with a wide variety of horses or teaching beginning riders to love the sport as much as she did. On the other hand, if she followed in Max’s footsteps and built up her own lessons stable, it would almost certainly mean giving up any lingering dreams of gold hunt cups or Olympic stardom.

  Of course, if Dad has his way, I’ll have plenty of time to figure it out while I rot away in some liberal arts classroom at some snooty university, Carole thought ruefully. I don’t want to disappoint him. But why can’t he realize that that sort of thing just isn’t for me?

  Carole was still pondering her uncertain future twenty minutes later as she and her friends set off across the fields on their horses. Lisa was riding a school horse named Checkers, Carole was mounted on Starlight, and Stevie was aboard her spirited Arabian-Saddlebred mare, Belle.

  As the three girls approached the edge of the woods beyond Pine Hollow’s big south pasture, Carole suddenly realized that she’d hardly heard a word either of her friends had said since they’d set out. Feeling guilty, she racked her brain, trying to remember any of the conversation. But all she could recall hearing was a lot of discussion about Stevie’s newspaper article. At the moment, they seemed to be talking about A.J. and his adoption problems.

  Okay, it’s way past time to drag yourself out of this gutter of pathetic self-involvement and start thinking about something else, she told herself firmly as she shortened Starlight’s stride to keep him from running up on Checkers. Like Cam, for instance.

  Even the thought of his name made her smile. Once again, she wished that he had been able to join them that day. It was hard to accept that they wouldn’t be seeing that much of each other for most of the next couple of weeks. At least she could look forward to their special get-together on New Year’s Eve. Thinking about that reminded her that she still hadn’t come up with any brilliant ideas about what to get him for Christmas.

  “Hey, you guys,” she blurted out, interrupting something Stevie was saying about A.J.’s parents. “I just realized I need to start shopping for a Christmas present for Cam. What do you think I should get him?”

  Stevie seemed startled by the sudden change in topic, but she shrugged good-naturedly as she brought Belle to a halt and glanced over at Carole. “I don’t know,” she said, leaning forward to give her mare a pat on the withers. “But listen, that reminds me. I finally figured out the perfect gift for Phil!”

  “What is it?” Carole asked, hoping she could pick up some hints from Stevie’s gift idea. Cam and Phil didn’t know each other too well—maybe Carole could even get the same thing her friend was getting for her boyfriend, just to play it safe. She was sure Stevie wouldn’t mind.

  Stevie grinned, looking pleased with herself. “I got the idea yesterday when he kept complaining about how all his jeans are, like, worn through from riding so much. He might as well have just come right out and said, ‘Stevie, please please please would you buy me those gorgeous leather schooling chaps in the window display at The Saddlery?’ Luckily I could tell that was what he was thinking. So that’s what I’m getting him.”

  “Really?” Lisa sounded surprised. “Wow. I’ve seen those chaps. That’s a pretty extravagant gift.”

  Carole bit her lip, staring down at Starlight’s glossy mahogany neck without really seeing it. She knew exactly which chaps Stevie meant—she too had seen them the last time she’d been at the mall, and they really were pretty spectacular. “I think it sounds like a really romantic gift. I’m sure Phil will love them. Um …” She hesitated. “Do you mind if I ask how much they cost?”

  Stevie shrugged. “Why would I mind? It’s not like you couldn’t just walk into the store yourself and find out anyway.” She grinned, then told them the price.

  Carole gasped at the amount, dismayed at how much Stevie was planning to spend. Was that the sort of money she would be expected to shell out now that she and Cam were a couple?

  Probably not, she thought uncertainly, hiding her consternation from her friends by leaning over to fiddle with her stirrup. After all, Stevie and Phil have been together for years. Cam and I have been a couple for only a short time. It’s not like he’s going to expect anything that generous from me. Is he?

  As she straightened up in the saddle again, Lisa shot her a shrewd glance. “Don’t worry, Carole,” she said. “Just because Stevie’s suddenly turned into Ms. High Roller, it doesn’t mean you have to mortgage Starlight to buy Cam a Christmas present. It’s the thought that counts, remember?”

  “Definitely,” Stevie agreed. “He’ll be thrilled with anything you pick out, Carole. Especially if you wear something really hot when you give it to him.” She batted her eyelashes playfully.

  Carole blushed. “Um, so how are you going to afford those chaps, anyway?” she asked Stevie. “Last I heard, you were so broke you were borrowing money from your brothers to pay your library fines.”

  “Good point,” Stevie said. “And I must admit, at first I thought that might be a problem myself. But then I had another brilliant idea. I’m planning to ask all three of my brothers to give me cash this year instead of buying me presents.” She adjusted her riding helmet and grinned at her friends proudly. “They always leave their shopping until the last minute anyway, then spend half of Christmas moaning and groaning and complaining about how hard I am to shop for. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled that I’m letting them off the hook.”

  Carole nodded. Knowing Stevie’s brothers, that was probably true. Still, she was impressed that Stevie was planning to lay out so much cash for one Christmas present. Wow, she thought. Am I going to have to start buying Starlight the economy brand of horse treats so that I can afford to have a boyfriend?

  She realized she was being silly. For one thing, she was sure that Cam wouldn’t want her to bankrupt herself or deprive her horse for his sake. He cared about her, and that was way more important than any Christmas gift. Still, it was just one more thing to worry about.

  Stevie and Lisa had already switched topics and were discussing which trail to take, but Carole couldn’t seem to focus on what her friends were saying. This is our first Christmas together, and I want it to be perfect, she thought as she stared blankly over Starlight’s head into the trees beyond. That means I need to figure out the perfect gift for Cam. And I don’t have much time.

  FOUR

  “So what do you think is wrong with George?” Scott asked Callie as he merged onto Highway 12.

  Callie chewed on her lower lip and shook her head. She’d been asking herself that same question all weekend, though not in the way Scott meant it. George had been out sick that day at school, which meant that Callie hadn’t seen him since Friday, the day after their big confrontation. “I don’t know, and to be honest, I don’t much care,” she told her brother, tapping nervously on the door handle. “All I care about is whether he realizes I was serious about what I told him the other day. I just hope he got the hint this time.”

  Scott turned his attention away from the road just long enough to shoot her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he did,” he said. “You can be pretty clear when you want to be.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Callie muttered, sinking down slightly in her seat as she remembered yelling at George, telling him in no uncertain terms that their friendship was over. She still felt a twinge of guilt
whenever she thought about it. How had an acquaintance that had started so casually gotten so out of control? She still wondered if there was something she could have done differently—maybe been more firm about his behavior from the start or asked one of her friends to talk to him. It wasn’t that she particularly valued George’s friendship for its own sake, but she felt bad about possibly hurting such an insecure and seemingly lonely soul. George didn’t seem to have many close friends aside from his horse, a lovely Trakehner mare named Joyride. Even now, after all the trouble he’d been, Callie felt sorry for him.

  With a determined effort, she pushed aside all thoughts of George as she climbed out of the car. He had ruined her first visit with this particular horse; there was no way she was going to let it happen again.

  A tall, thin man was strolling toward them, a welcoming smile on his tanned, heavily lined face. “Howdy again, folks,” he called in a soft Virginia drawl. “Welcome back.” He gestured toward a nearby paddock, where a leopard-spot Appaloosa gelding was tied to a rail. “Scooby’s over there if you want to get right to it.”

  “Sounds good,” Scott replied, extending his hand to the farm owner. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Rayburn. Thanks for letting us come out for another look.”

  Callie added her thanks, then followed her brother and Mr. Rayburn over to the paddock. She had already decided to be honest with Scooby’s owner. “I’m afraid I was a little distracted the last time I came out,” she told him apologetically. “It might be best if we could just sort of start all over again.”

  The man looked a little surprised, but he nodded agreeably. “All right, then,” he said amiably. “Then allow me to introduce you to Scooby.” He reached over the fence to pat the horse on the neck. Scooby didn’t respond; he merely flicked his tail at a fly.

  Callie gave Scooby a few pats and scratches to get reacquainted, then stepped back so that Mr. Rayburn could put the horse through his paces. As he did, he chatted easily about the horse’s quirks and temperament.

  “What do you think?” Scott asked Callie in a low voice as the farm owner jogged along, leading the Appaloosa at a trot. “Was it worth a second trip?”

  “We’ll see,” Callie muttered, never taking her gaze off the horse. Scooby definitely had the build for endurance riding—rangy, straight-legged, and symmetrical, somewhere just over fifteen hands by her estimate. His nostrils were large, his shoulders sloped nicely, and his hindquarters showed good definition.

  She watched carefully as Mr. Rayburn led the horse around the paddock, first at a walk and then at a trot. Scooby moved well, his hooves skimming the ground as he moved. Nice, efficient movement, Callie thought, checking off another box on her mental list of things to watch for in evaluating the horse.

  Finally Mr. Rayburn brought Scooby back to a walk, giving him a fond pat on the neck before leading him toward the fence. “There you go,” he told Callie, a little breathless from exertion, though Scooby hadn’t turned a hair. “One thing I forgot to mention on your last visit. He’s not wearing shoes right now—never really needed ’em, with his feet. So you would need to talk to your farrier about how best to handle that.”

  Callie nodded, pleased to hear that the gelding was able to go barefoot. Good, solid feet were important in any horse, but in an endurance prospect they were paramount. Scooby really didn’t seem to have any major flaws, at least not in his conformation, balance, or movement. The only thing that concerned her a little was whether the horse had the right attitude for her. So far he appeared to be pretty calm and quiet—a good temperament for an endurance horse, which can’t afford to use up a lot of energy on nerves or bad behavior. But Callie knew she wouldn’t be happy with a horse that was too sedate. She liked a mental challenge when she was riding and had always sought out horses that would never let her get too comfortable—or bored.

  There’s only one way to find out, she thought.

  As if reading her mind, Mr. Rayburn held out the reins. “Want to give him a whirl?”

  “Thanks.” Callie took the reins and looped them back over Scooby’s head. Not bothering to use the fence to mount, she grabbed a handful of mane and sprang into the saddle.

  As soon as she settled into position, she knew that, despite his calm outer appearance, Scooby wasn’t lazy or a pushover. She could feel him responding from the moment she began communicating with him; she could sense his mind working beneath his pricked ears.

  Wow, Callie thought. What a difference from Barq. Like night and day.

  She stayed in the saddle for a good long time, testing Scooby in every way she could devise to make sure that her first impression hadn’t been wrong. He didn’t let her down. By the time she swung out of the saddle, she was more pleased than ever with the horse. He wasn’t perfect—she could already tell that he needed some conditioning, and his suppling needed a little fine-tuning. But riding him after her weeks of struggling with Barq was like diving into a cool, inviting pool after staggering out of a desert.

  She was careful to keep her enthusiasm out of her face and voice as she led Scooby back toward Mr. Rayburn and Scott. She loosened the gelding’s girth and fiddled with his head and ears for a moment, making sure he wouldn’t give her any trouble on the ground. “He feels pretty good,” she said casually, finally giving the horse a pat and turning to face his owner. “I’ll have to think about it some more. What are you asking for him?”

  Mr. Rayburn named a figure. Callie nearly gasped in shock—not because the amount was too much, but because it was so much less than the price of most of the other horses she’d seen during her search.

  It’s almost too good to be true, she thought as she and Scott said good-bye and headed back to the car.

  “So? What did you think?” Scott asked as he started the engine a moment later.

  “I think he felt pretty good,” Callie said cautiously, unwilling to go on record with her true thoughts just yet. She certainly didn’t want to rush this decision—not after waiting so long to get here. “Definitely a contender. We’ll see.”

  Scott nodded, seeming satisfied with that. As he put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking area, he glanced over at her. “By the way, I was thinking about something while you were riding,” he said seriously. “If you think it’ll help, I could talk to George for you tomorrow. You know—just make sure there’s no misunderstanding or anything.”

  “What? Oh, that’s okay.” Callie waved one hand to brush away the mention of George’s name. He was the last thing she wanted to think about. Thanks to Scooby the wonder horse, she had much better things to occupy her mind.

  “Back inside, boy,” Carole told Starlight as she led him into his stall. “Sorry you couldn’t hang out with your friends a little longer. I would’ve liked to hang around with my friends a little longer, too.”

  She shook her head, not wanting to slip into self-pity again. She would have loved to stay out with Stevie and Lisa, who had decided to take advantage of the lingering afternoon sunshine by walking their horses around the back paddock for a while, even though they had cooled them down sufficiently on the way back across the fields. Carole guessed that they just wanted a chance to spend more time discussing the Starlight Ride and A.J.’s problems and Maureen Chance and all the other topics that Carole had barely paid attention to during their ride. But because of her curfew, she didn’t have time to hang out. Her father had been awfully nice to allow her to start riding again before her punishment was technically over, and Carole didn’t want to give him cause to regret it. As hard as it was to leave the stable after only a couple of hours, it would be harder still to be banned again.

  Slipping Starlight’s halter on, she quickly looped his lead rope through the ring mounted on the stall wall. Maybe she didn’t have time to shoot the breeze with her friends, but at least she could spend a few minutes giving her horse a decent grooming. After unbuckling the girth, she pulled the saddle off his back and slung it over the half door. Then she checked her watch.

&nbs
p; “Damn,” she muttered. It was later than she’d thought. There wouldn’t be enough time for a leisurely grooming that day after all.

  Still, she couldn’t leave without giving Starlight at least a cursory brushing. She grabbed her grooming kit and set to work.

  She was running the body brush over his left foreleg when she felt the soft bristles catch on something. “What’s that?” she murmured, tucking the brush under her arm and leaning in closer to run her hands over the spot. She was expecting to find a burr stuck in the hair, but instead her gently prodding fingers discovered a small abrasion on the pastern. “Uh-oh,” she told her horse, standing up and giving him a pat. “Looks like you scraped yourself on something out there.”

  While any injury to a horse’s leg required attention, Carole wasn’t too worried about what she was seeing. The scrape was clearly minor, and it didn’t seem to be bothering the horse at all. Still, she made a mental note to mention it to Max so that he could have Judy Barker, the equine vet who looked after Pine Hollow’s horses, take a quick look at it the next time she came by.

  “I’ll be right back, boy,” she told Starlight, heading for the aisle. “I’m just going to get some antiseptic to put on that.”