Headstrong

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Headstrong Page 10

by Bonnie Bryant


  It’s ironic, she thought as she glanced around the quiet entryway. Here I am getting ready to start working on Scooby’s attention and discipline, among other things, and I seem to have totally lost both qualities myself.

  Yawning again, she made a quick stop in the locker room to pick up her gloves and boots, then headed toward Scooby’s stall. Tired or not, she had a full schedule in mind for that day. First on the agenda was spending some serious time with Scooby in the schooling ring, figuring out exactly what she had to work with so that she could plan their training.

  The Appaloosa was nosing at his hayrack when Callie looked over the half door, but he immediately turned to face her. “Hey, buddy,” Callie called softly as the horse stepped toward her with his ears pricked forward. “How was your first night in your new home?”

  Judging by the look of the horse, it had gone just fine. Callie was happy to see that Scooby looked calm, happy, and well rested. Not only did that bode well for that day’s exercise, but it also meant he would probably be fine if they needed to travel and stay in strange barns for competitions.

  After giving him a quick grooming, Callie went to get her tack. She had been using her old endurance saddle on Barq, and the day before she’d tested it on Scooby just long enough to see if it would fit him. It did, though she’d had to borrow a slightly longer girth from Max.

  “Okay, boy,” she announced as she returned to Scooby’s stall. “Ready to really get acquainted?”

  Scooby stood quietly as she tacked him up, shifting his feet uneasily only when she tightened the girth. He took the bit with no hesitation, and before long he was ready to go.

  Callie led him outside and mounted. Then she walked him around the ring for a few minutes to warm him up. He kept his ears swiveling curiously as he walked, seeming to enjoy the meager winter sunshine and even the slight breeze blowing in from the fields, though Callie herself found it rather chilly on her face. When she finally asked for a trot, Scooby swung right into the two-beat gait, maintaining a steady rhythm until halfway around the ring, when she asked for another change. Once again he responded to her aids immediately. His extended trot was smooth and easy, covering more ground than Callie expected, even after her previous rides on him.

  “Wow,” Callie murmured, impressed anew with the horse’s proficiency. “Somebody trained you but good, bud.”

  Scooby’s ears flicked back alertly at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t break stride. Callie steadied him, then asked for a canter. He swung into it handily, and Callie smiled. So far, so good, she thought. As happy as she was with her new horse, a tiny, pessimistic part of her kept looking for something wrong with him. I can’t really be this lucky, can I? she wondered as she easily shifted the horse back down to a trot.

  Callie was so focused on what she was doing that Scooby noticed Ben Marlow’s arrival before she did. The gelding was trotting along calmly when he suddenly snorted and took a step sideways.

  “Ho!” Callie said, quickly collecting her mount again as she caught a glimpse of a person approaching the ring’s fence. Fortunately, Scooby didn’t really seem frightened, and he returned almost immediately to his previous steady pace. Callie wasn’t sure his action even qualified as a spook—more of a break of stride. When she was sure that Scooby wasn’t going to react further, she glanced over at the fence. Ben raised a hand to her.

  “Sorry,” he called. “He okay?”

  “He’s fine.” Callie brought Scooby to a walk, then bent forward to pat his shoulder. She turned him toward Ben, riding toward the fence so that she could speak to him without shouting. She and Ben weren’t exactly close—in fact, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d spoken more than a few words to each other—but Callie knew that the taciturn stable hand really knew his stuff when it came to horses. She was curious how he would react to Scooby.

  Ben was leaning on the top rail of the schooling ring, watching Scooby intently. The horse returned his look curiously, stretching his head toward him. Ben reached out to stroke the gelding’s face, his own face softening into a half smile.

  “How does he look?” Callie asked.

  Ben didn’t look up at her as he replied, instead keeping his gaze trained steadily on the horse as he rubbed Scooby’s face and neck. “Good. Nice movement. Seems well trained.”

  Callie grinned. From Ben, that surely qualified as a glowing approval speech. “Thanks,” she said. “I just hope he’s as good out on the trail as he is in the ring. What did you think of our shoulder-in?”

  Ben started to say something about Scooby’s hip movement, but Callie missed the majority of his response. A flash of movement at the stable entrance had caught her eye, and a second later she saw George leading his horse, Joyride, into the yard. He led the mare to the mounting block and swung into the saddle, not so much as glancing in Callie’s direction, though she was sure he knew she was there.

  What’s that about? she thought, feeling a familiar stab of guilt as George gathered his reins and clucked to his mare. He was close enough to the ring that the sound carried to Callie. I know I told him to stay away from me, but it’s like he’s pretending I don’t exist or something.

  That didn’t bother her too much, but the sight of George’s pudgy figure riding out of the yard alone did disturb her a little. He just looked so pathetic, so lonely.… She kept her eyes on him until he’d reached the big south pasture and passed through the gate, closing it carefully behind him.

  Then Callie shook her head and turned back to Ben, wondering what was wrong with her. Why was she sitting there obsessing over George’s state of mind and his emotional health? Whatever he might be feeling about her now, it was all for the best in the long run. He had finally gotten the hint, and that was what she wanted.

  She smiled apologetically at Ben, vowing to put George out of her mind for good. “Sorry,” she said to Ben. “What was that again?”

  Lisa blinked as Scott led her past yet another set of theater doors. “Where are these seats anyway, on the stage?” she joked.

  Scott glanced over at her and smiled. “We’re almost there. I think you’ll like them.”

  “Okay.” Lisa wasn’t about to argue. She had never been in this particular section of the theater, though she’d seen a variety of productions there over the years. Usually when she was paying for tickets to a play or concert herself, she went for the cheap seats in the second balcony. Years earlier, when her parents had taken her to see children’s concerts and other things, they had usually ended up in the aptly named family circle.

  Soon they reached yet another pair of propped-open doors. Scott held out their ticket stubs to the portly woman standing guard, and she gave them a quick glance. “Come this way, please,” the woman said, already turning to lead the way down the plush, carpeted aisle.

  Lisa’s eyes widened as she realized they were in the very front section. Wow, she thought with a tingle of excitement. I guess this is one of the fringe benefits of hanging out with a congressman’s son.

  The usher led them to the third row and gestured to the two seats on the end. “Thank you,” Scott said politely. Then he turned to Lisa. “Would you like the inside seat or the aisle?”

  “I don’t care,” Lisa said, a little overwhelmed as she glanced around. For a moment she felt underdressed—she had chosen her outfit carefully, but it couldn’t compare to the mink stole on the woman directly behind her or the sparkly evening gown on the woman across the aisle. Then she spotted an elderly woman dressed in an expensive-looking but casual pantsuit, as well as a young couple wearing jeans, sitting in the row in front of her, and she relaxed.

  Soon she and Scott were seated and flipping through their programs. As they chatted about the dancers’ previous credits and about other topics, Lisa lost her last bit of self-consciousness about being there. It was amazing how sitting with Scott in the high-priced seats of a fancy big-city theater felt just as comfortable as sitting across the table from him at the local pizza place or talk
ing with him in the locker room at Pine Hollow. Soon she had almost forgotten where they were.

  She remembered again when the overture began and the dancers took the stage. “Wow!” she whispered to Scott. “I can actually see the whites of their eyes from here. I always thought that was just an expression.”

  Scott smiled in response. Then they both turned to watch the performance.

  The production was excellent, though for a while Lisa had a little trouble focusing on the action onstage. She’d seen The Nutcracker many times before, but this time felt totally different. For one thing, thanks to their fantastic seats, it felt as if they were practically in the dancers’ laps. For another, Lisa found herself very aware of Scott sitting in the seat beside her, even though she kept her eyes directed toward the stage. The faint scent of his aftershave tickled her nose, and she was hyperaware of his arm almost touching hers on the armrest between them.

  This is nice, she thought, sneaking a quick glance at Scott between scenes. This is really nice.

  She was a little surprised at what a good time she was having. Over the past couple of days, she had just about convinced herself that her first date with Scott had been a fluke—a sort of sample date to test whether she could really have a good time without Alex by her side. She was starting to realize that the answer to that question was yes, though she wasn’t sure whether or not Scott himself was a major part of the reason.

  Maybe it’s just the first-class treatment going to my head, she thought. I mean, it’s awfully nice to have a good-looking, popular guy like Scott making such an effort to show me a good time. It’s been a while since anyone other than Alex has shown this much interest. So maybe I’m just feeling really flattered right now.

  The dancers took their places again, and Lisa did her best to stop worrying about it. She would figure it out later. For now, she just wanted to relax and enjoy the show.

  Stevie was carefully applying a thin coat of mascara to her sandy blond eyelashes when Chad walked by the open door of her room and poked his head in. “Hey, thought you had some hot date tonight,” he commented with a grin. “Aren’t you going to clean yourself up and put on some decent clothes?”

  “Ha, ha,” Stevie said, making a face at him in the mirror. Capping her mascara, she turned around and checked the alarm clock on her bedside table. “As a matter of fact, I’m leaving in fifteen minutes to meet Phil.”

  “Cool.” Chad lounged in the doorway. “By the way, thanks for inviting me last night. It was fun.”

  Stevie smiled. “Yeah. It was.” She had actually been a little surprised at the way Chad had fit in with her friends. He and Lisa had always been more than cordial with each other—well, since the time when Chad was fourteen and decided he had a crush on her, anyway—but Stevie hadn’t been too certain that her brother and Callie would hit it off. Callie could be really serious and intense sometimes, and Chad was pretty much the opposite of that. But things had gone smoothly right from the start, and Stevie was pretty sure that all of them had ended up having a great time.

  Chad moved on, and Stevie gave herself one last satisfied glance in the mirror. She was really looking forward to her date with Phil that night. He’d called a little earlier to confirm and mentioned that A.J. still hadn’t had any response to the message he’d left the mysterious woman who might be his mother. Stevie was disappointed about that, but she figured that if A.J. could be patient, so could she. And going out and having fun with Phil seemed like a sure way to take her mind off just about everything else.

  As Stevie headed for the door, her gaze fell on the shopping bag on the floor near her closet. She couldn’t resist going to it and pulling out the large red-and-white box inside.

  It was totally worth skipping out early on Belle and fighting my way through the mall today, she thought with satisfaction as she set the box on her bed and lifted off the top. As many times as she looked at the thick folds of supple leather inside, she never got tired of checking out the chaps. Of course, it would have been nice if they’d had his size in stock, she added with a flash of irritation. There’s no way he’s going to fit into these—they’re more like my size than his.

  She hadn’t been able to resist buying the too-small pair, though, especially when the sales clerk had assured her that Phil would have no trouble at all exchanging them for the correct size after Christmas. The chaps were even more beautiful than she’d remembered, and she knew that Phil was going to be thrilled with them. She just couldn’t bear to settle for a gift certificate instead.

  Anyway, this means he can even pick out the color he wants without worrying about hurting my feelings, she thought, remembering that the chaps came in black and tan as well as the dark brown she’d chosen. She ran her hand over the chocolate-colored leather one last time before carefully replacing the lid. Of course, if you ask me, this color is pretty much perfect.

  Scott’s hand felt warm as it held Lisa’s tightly. The two of them were strolling up Lisa’s front walk. It was late—the ballet hadn’t ended until after ten, and then there had been the forty-minute drive back to Willow Creek—and the neighborhood was dark and peaceful, with only a few scattered lights showing in houses up and down the block. A few doors down, the Lakes’ garage light burned brightly, a sure sign that either Alex or Stevie, if not both, was still out.

  Lisa glanced ahead at her own dark house. Obviously her mother had forgotten to leave the porch light on for her as she usually did. Trying not to let thoughts of her mother intrude on her pleasant mood, she cleared her throat and glanced up at Scott. “Thanks again for tonight,” she said. “I had a really nice time.”

  “Me too.” Scott returned her smile, squeezing her hand slightly. “Did you really have fun?”

  “Absolutely.” Lisa meant it, too. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a pleasant evening. Probably not since before she’d sent back that college acceptance, or since she and Alex had started having problems. She pushed that last thought out of her mind as quickly as it came. This wasn’t the time to start thinking about Alex. She cleared her throat and smiled at Scott. “Thanks again.”

  “Any time.” Scott stopped as they reached the porch and turned to face her, taking both her hands in his own. “Does this mean you’ll go on the Starlight Ride with me next week?”

  Lisa hesitated, wondering how to respond to that. Yes, it was true that she’d had a great time with Scott that evening—much better than she had expected. Still, she really didn’t know what she felt for him. Was he just a good friend? Could he ever be anything more? She just didn’t think she could decide at the moment, especially while things remained unresolved with Alex. And she didn’t want to lead Scott on, make him think they were going to be together if it wasn’t going to happen.

  “I—I don’t know,” she said uncertainly, realizing that Scott was waiting for her answer. “That is, it sounds like fun, but I really don’t know if it’s a good idea. I need to think about it. See, things are just so weird for me right now, with Alex and—and—well, everything. And I don’t want things to move too fast, because, um, I’m not sure where they’re going. Where I want them to go, I mean. Do you know what I mean?”

  She winced in anticipation of his response, hoping that he wouldn’t be too hurt by her direct words. She could only imagine what Alex would say if he were in Scott’s place at that moment. He would probably take it totally personally, give her that sad-puppy look of his, and then slink off to nurse his wounds in private.

  But Scott didn’t seem upset at all. He nodded. “I understand,” he said softly. “But think about it, okay? The offer stands. No pressure.”

  Lisa blinked. Before she could get over her surprise at his mild reaction, Scott leaned down and kissed her.

  The touch of his lips on hers was like an electric shock that set her heart pounding a mile a minute. Each time they kissed, her reaction seemed to get stronger. What does this mean? she thought, her head spinning out of control as she melted into
Scott’s embrace. Why should a simple kiss have this effect on me—like I’ve never been kissed before?

  Before she could figure it out, Scott pulled away. “Good night, Lisa,” he murmured, gently pushing a strand of blond hair off her cheek before stepping back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Uh, y-yeah,” Lisa stammered, unable to come up with a more intelligent response. Swallowing hard and wiping her suddenly sweaty palms on her jacket, she turned and raced into the dark house without looking back.

  ELEVEN

  Callie was at Pine Hollow early again on Sunday. She headed for the schooling ring, hoping to get in some solid time before Max’s first private lesson a little later that morning. “Ready to get started, buddy?” she asked, patting Scooby soundly on the neck before bending over to adjust her left stirrup.

  Scooby stood quietly until she was ready, then stepped forward smartly at her first light squeeze. Callie spent a few minutes warming him up, then moved on to some exercises she’d planned, working on some serpentines and figure eights and then trotting over a row of cavalletti.

  Once again, the schooling session went very well. Scooby did just about everything she asked right away. While she could tell that they were going to have to work on a few things, it was nothing she couldn’t handle. Callie was already starting to think of herself and Scooby as a team, and she liked the feeling. She liked it a lot.

  She was just thinking, reluctantly, that it was time to head in and let Scooby rest when she noticed that Ben Marlow had stopped by to watch again on his way back from the grain shed with a bag of feed. Remembering how helpful—and uncharacteristically talkative—he’d been the previous day, Callie stopped what she was doing and rode toward him, eager to take advantage of any new comments he might have about Scooby.

 

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