Headstrong

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Okay.” Lisa took hold of Eve and Congo and watched as Scott threaded his way through the crowd, pausing every few seconds to shake someone’s hand or slap them on the back.

  Then she turned and squinted in the uncertain light of the bonfire and the surrounding buildings, looking for her friends. A few yards away, she saw Stevie and Phil in the middle of a small group, talking and laughing. Back at the edge of the square, Carole and Cam were standing close together, apparently lost in a world all their own as they talked quietly with each other.

  Looks like they’re all having fun, Lisa thought with a pang of sadness. What would it be like to live somewhere far away from her friends? To only talk to them on the phone a couple of times a week, if that?

  She turned and saw Scott heading toward her, a Styrofoam cup in each hand and a few napkins tucked under his arm. When he reached her, he carefully handed her one of the cups. “Here you go,” he said. “Careful, it’s hot.”

  “Thanks.” Lisa accepted the cup gratefully. It felt nice and warm against her hands, even through her winter riding gloves. Blowing on the surface, she let the steam caress her face. “So what do you think of the Starlight Ride so far?”

  “It’s great,” Scott said. “I’m really—”

  “Yo, Scott!” A guy Lisa didn’t recognize came loping toward them. “How’s it going, man?”

  Lisa sighed, annoyed at the interruption. But Scott smiled at the other guy. “Hey, Barry,” he said easily. “Having fun?”

  As the two guys started chatting about some history final they’d taken the week before, Lisa sighed, almost wishing that Scott wasn’t quite so friendly. When Alex and I were together, he hardly took his attention off me long enough to notice anyone else, she thought. Scott doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he likes me, but he’s way too much of a social animal ever to be that totally focused on one person.

  Still, she couldn’t help remembering the way Alex’s devotion had sometimes gotten in the way. For instance, she doubted that someone like Scott would have had such a problem with her trip to California the previous summer. Alex’s loneliness and jealousy had really been an issue between them for a long time. Thinking about that as she watched Scott turn to greet yet another friend, Lisa thought idly that it would be nice if there were a way to combine two people, taking the best qualities of each. Then she could have all the things she loved about Alex rolled together with the great qualities that intrigued her in Scott.

  She almost giggled aloud at the thought. Obviously, she’d watched one too many late-night horror movies with Alex. It was ridiculous to try to imagine what some kind of mad-scientist version of the two guys would be like. Would she call him Scolex? Or maybe Alott? Either way, she was being a little unfair. Alex and Scott were both great guys, and she knew a lot of people would envy her, having to choose between them. Of course, that didn’t mean it was going to be easy.

  Not unless Mom makes the choice for me by making me move to New Jersey, she thought, her stomach twisting into a knot as it always did when she thought about that particular topic. Then I won’t have either one of them—or any of my other friends, either.

  That thought was way too depressing for an otherwise beautiful Christmas Eve. Doing her best to squash it, she sipped her hot chocolate carefully and waited for Scott to finish his conversation.

  Carole glanced over at Cam, who was riding beside her. Everyone was more subdued now that they were heading back to the stable, full of hot chocolate and holiday cheer. Carole and Cam were near the back of the group. The torchlight threw Cam’s high cheekbones into sharp relief, making him look handsome and a little bit mysterious. Then he turned toward her. Catching her gaze, he smiled, and once again he was the old Cam, the Cam she was in love with.

  “Having a good time?” he asked, reaching across the space between their horses to touch her leg.

  She shivered slightly and returned his smile. “Uh-huh,” she said. “Are you?”

  “Definitely.” Cam turned away for a moment as the horse he was riding, a sorrel gelding named Rusty, jigged slightly to the side.

  Carole watched, admiring his riding skills. He was a little out of practice, but she could tell that it was coming back to him with each ride they took together. Maybe someday soon he would decide he was ready for his own horse again. Maybe he would even board that horse at Pine Hollow so that he and Carole could ride together anytime they wanted.….

  As she was imagining how wonderful that would be, Justine Harrington rode up beside her. “Hey, Carole,” the younger girl said breathlessly. “What’s the matter with Patch? He keeps trying to slow down when I make him trot.”

  Carole gave her a reassuring smile. “That’s Patch for you,” she said. “He knows he’s been out for more than an hour, and he figures he’s done his job, so he’s being stubborn. Just keep giving your aids, and be as firm as you need to be about it.” She pulled her riding crop out of her boot, knowing she wouldn’t need it riding Calypso, who was always very forward on the trail. “Here, why don’t you take this? You probably won’t even need to use it. It’ll be enough for him to know you have it. He should be fine once we get closer to the stable and he realizes he’s headed back to his nice, cozy stall and a flake of hay.”

  As Justine thanked her and rode forward, looking relieved, Cam snorted. “These kids never run out of questions for you, do they? Any second now I’m expecting one of them to come over and ask which end of the horse goes forward.”

  “I don’t mind.” Carole smiled as she watched Justine lean forward to show the crop to her mount. “Even though I don’t officially work at Pine Hollow right now, I guess the younger kids are used to coming to me with questions.” She liked the feeling. It made her hopeful about the coming New Year, when she might be allowed to return to her job at the stable. She hadn’t quite dared to bring it up with her father lately, but she could tell that he was pleased with her recent behavior and schoolwork.

  Cam shrugged. “I know, I know. Still, I sort of wish we could sneak off and have our own private Starlight Ride without all the interruptions. So I could have you all to myself.”

  Carole smiled automatically, though she couldn’t help thinking that Cam was sounding a little childish. What was the big deal? They were a couple—they could spend all the private time together they wanted. Tonight wasn’t really about that. Yes, it was awfully romantic riding through the torchlit woods together. But part of what made it so magical was sharing it with all the other riders at Pine Hollow, even slightly bratty and impatient ones like Justine.

  “Don’t worry,” she said lightly, not wanting Cam to guess what she was thinking. “We’ll have plenty of time alone once you get back from your relatives’ house next week.”

  Cam’s face lit up. “Right,” he agreed eagerly. “I can’t wait, especially for our gift exchange. Don’t forget—New Year’s Eve afternoon, just you and me.”

  “I won’t forget.” Carole tried not to think about the fact that she still hadn’t come up with any brilliant gift ideas. She was sure something would come to her soon.

  Anyway, I probably shouldn’t be getting so focused on the gift part of the exchange, she thought. Because no matter what we get for each other, it’s going to be really special just because we’re together.

  She glanced over at Cam, realizing it was true. Cam probably wasn’t going to get all hung up over a silly gift, and she shouldn’t, either. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try to come up with something wonderful to show him how she felt. It just meant she realized it wasn’t as important as feeling it.

  How did I get so lucky, anyway? she wondered as he turned, caught her gaze again, and smiled at her. Just when my whole life was on its way down the tubes, with the grounding and losing my job and the whole deal, Cam came along and made everything seem better. Just being with him like this, with all these other people around, makes me feel more alive. She shuddered with happiness. It makes me wish this wonderful, magical, special, romantic n
ight would never end!

  FIFTEEN

  Stevie peeked into the stall across from the wash stall at the end of the aisle. It was empty. “In here,” she whispered, gesturing to Phil.

  “Right behind you.” Phil hoisted the large wrapped gift he was carrying onto one shoulder and followed her into the stall.

  Moments later they were both seated on the clean-raked bare floor, knee to knee. Stevie glanced at the door, hoping they wouldn’t be interrupted. She definitely didn’t want anything to spoil their gift exchange. She wanted to savor how much Phil was going to love his gift. “Maybe we should try the loft instead,” she said uncertainly.

  “Forget it,” Phil said with a laugh. “If we keep moving all over the stable this way, it’ll be Groundhog Day before we get around to exchanging gifts.” He smiled and reached forward to brush a strand of hair off Stevie’s forehead. “And I can’t wait that long. I’m dying to see how much you’re going to love this.” He patted the gift on his lap.

  “Not as much as I’m dying to see how much you’re going to love this,” Stevie countered, holding up her own gift. She’d wrapped it carefully the night before in some pony-print wrapping paper she’d found at The Saddlery. It wasn’t very Christmasy, but since Phil was half-Jewish anyway—not to mention more than half horse-crazy, just like her—Stevie figured it didn’t matter that much.

  “Okay, then, let’s get started,” Phil said. “First of all, merry Christmas.” He leaned forward, grabbed her elbow, and pulled her toward him for a kiss.

  Stevie kissed him back. “Merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah to you, too,” she said. “Now go ahead and open it.” She pushed the gift toward him.

  “Okay. But you open yours first.” Phil set his package in her lap.

  “No, you first.” Stevie hugged herself around the waist to stop herself from bouncing up and down with excitement.

  Phil grinned. “How about if we both open them at the same time?”

  “Well, okay.” Stevie was tempted to insist once more that he go first, but she figured maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Whatever he’d gotten her could only look pathetic after her amazing gift, and she didn’t want to do that to him. Besides, she couldn’t wait to see what was in the box he’d handed her. She loved presents. Ripping eagerly at the gold-and-white holiday paper, she soon recognized the red-and-white Saddlery box inside. She grinned. “Great minds think alike,” she commented as Phil brushed away the pony paper and pulled out an almost identical box.

  “I guess so.” Phil winked. “What if we got each other the same thing?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Stevie predicted confidently. She picked up her box and shook it. It was surprisingly heavy. “Anyway, this box is bigger than that one.”

  Phil started to lift the lid, then paused and glanced at her. “Count of three,” he said.

  Stevie nodded and got ready to lift her own lid. “One, two, three!”

  She pulled up the lid and tossed it aside. Pushing past The Saddlery’s logo-imprinted tissue paper, her hand brushed against soft but slightly rough-textured fabric. Puzzled, she peered at the mound of hunter-green wool nestled in the large box. Had Phil bought her a sweater, or perhaps a new hacking coat? He wasn’t usually that interested in fashion, especially hers.

  Meanwhile Phil was unfolding the chaps. He shook them out and stared at them. “Oh,” he said. “These are nice. Urn, they look a little small, though.”

  “I know. But don’t worry,” Stevie put in eagerly. “The lady at the shop said you can exchange them with no problem. They’re getting in a shipment next week, and they’ll have all the sizes and colors then, so you can pick exactly which ones you want.”

  “Oh. That’s great.” Phil folded the chaps carefully and set them back in the box. Then he gestured to Stevie’s box. “Aren’t you going to unfold that and take a look?”

  Stevie frowned slightly, puzzled by his lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t you like the chaps?” she asked.

  “Of course!” Phil reached over and squeezed her shoulder gently. “They’re great. I just want to see what you think of your gift.”

  “Oh.” Stevie realized she still wasn’t sure what her gift was. Dumping the fabric out of the box onto her lap, she soon figured it out. “Oh, it’s a turnout rug,” she said blankly, wondering what on earth had possessed him to buy it for her. For one thing, it must have cost him a mint—she’d priced similar ones at The Saddlery in the past, and they cost even more than the chaps she’d bought him. Besides, her parents had bought her a nice fleece blanket for Belle just six months earlier on her birthday. “What a nice color,” she added lamely, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

  Phil peered at her quizzically. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Would you rather have a blue one? Because the sales guy said—”

  “No, no, this is perfect,” Stevie lied. She and Phil were usually honest with each other, but in this case she really didn’t want to hurt his feelings, especially since he’d gone to so much expense. Besides, she supposed it wouldn’t hurt Belle to have a spare rug. Maybe she could even sell the one her parents had bought. It hadn’t cost as much as this one, but it might bring enough to make a down payment on a matching pair of those chaps for herself.

  “Wait a minute,” Phil said abruptly. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

  Stevie blinked, wondering if he’d read her thoughts. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.

  Phil gestured to the horse blanket. “Okay, I’m no genius, but I can tell you’re less than completely thrilled with your gift.”

  “No, really, I love it!” Stevie protested. “I—”

  “Stow it,” Phil interrupted bluntly, though he softened the comment with a smile. “I’ve known you a long time, Lake. And when you love something, you show it. And I don’t mean by saying, ‘Oh, what a lovely color.’” For the last sentence, he shifted into a falsetto.

  Stevie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say it like that.” But this time her protest was halfhearted. She should have known better than to try to fool him. “But anyway, it’s not like you’re jumping up and down for joy about those chaps.” She gestured at the pile of leather in his lap. “What’s the matter? I was sure you’d love them.”

  “I do,” Phil replied quickly. “Um, but why exactly did you think that?”

  Stevie shrugged. “Because of what you said a while back when we were talking about Christmas,” she said. “You were complaining about wearing holes in your jeans from riding so much. I thought it was, you know, a hint.”

  Phil glanced down at the chaps. “I said that?” He scratched his chin. “Oh. Well, I guess I wasn’t really paying attention. Wasn’t that the same day you kept mentioning how cold Belle was in her stall with winter coming on? Because that’s what made me decide to get you the blanket.”

  Stevie tilted her head to one side, trying to remember herself saying that. A vague recollection of the conversation indicated that she might have said something to that effect. “I guess,” she said slowly. “But I wasn’t really thinking about Belle. I was thinking about how cold I’d been the last time I rode, even though I was wearing my warmest jeans and wool socks.”

  “Oh.” Phil chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. “Well, I guess I picked up on it because I’d just noticed Teddy shivering in his paddock the day before.”

  “Aha!” Stevie said, suddenly realizing what had happened. “So you bought me the gift that you were really hoping for.”

  “No, that’s not it,” Phil replied quickly. “I mean, maybe it’s true that Teddy could use a warmer turnout rug. But I really thought you’d like it for Belle.” He glanced down at the chaps he was still holding. “Besides, you did the same thing. You bought me the exact gift that you wanted.”

  “I think they’re nice,” Stevie protested. “But that doesn’t mean I wanted them for myself.”

  Phil grinned and turned the label up to read it. “Oh, really?” he said. “Then why did you just happen to ge
t them in your size?”

  Stevie blushed, realizing it was true. “Oh, man,” she said. “We’re such losers! We both bought presents we wanted ourselves!”

  They stared at each other for a second. Then, as if on cue, they burst into laughter.

  “You’re right,” Phil gasped. “We are losers! But hey—at least now we can both have the gift we really wanted, right?”

  Stevie nodded, still giggling. She piled the horse blanket back in its box and passed it to Phil. Phil passed her the box containing the leather chaps.

  “Thanks,” she said. “It’s just what I always wanted.”

  “Me too.” Phil grinned. “Thanks.”

  Stevie glanced at her watch and grimaced. “Oops, it’s getting late,” she said. “I want to find Carole and Lisa before they leave so I can give them their presents.”

  “Okay.” Phil moved a little closer and leaned in to kiss her. “Just give me one last chance to say merry Christmas.”

  “Well,” Lisa said, closing the stall door just in time to keep Eve from wandering out after her. Brushing off her hands, she turned to smile shyly at Scott. The evening seemed to be winding to a close, and she wasn’t quite sure what came next. “This was fun.”

  “I had fun, too.” Scott leaned one shoulder against the wall nearby, looking down at her steadily. “Thanks for agreeing to come with me.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for asking.”

  Scott stood up straight and took a half step toward her, and Lisa braced herself for another mind-altering kiss. But instead, Scott just gazed at her seriously with his hands shoved in his pockets.

  Finally he spoke. “I really like you, Lisa.”

  “I like you, too,” Lisa began uncertainly. “Um, I just—”

  But Scott cut her off with a raised hand. “Wait. There’s more,” he said soberly. “As I said, I really like you. But I know you still have feelings for Alex.”

  Lisa gulped. She wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Well, we were together a long time,” she murmured. “I guess, well, um …”