All the time she talked soothingly to the horse. “And then Goldilocks sat in the great big chair. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘This is much too big for me.’ ” She couldn’t believe she was telling a fairy tale to a horse. It probably wasn’t doing Teddy much good, but she knew she needed to talk. It was a way of keeping herself from being terrified, and it was a way of reminding him she was there—not that it was working very well for either of them.
Teddy was a big strong horse. Stevie was afraid he could keep on running for hours. She was more worried for his safety than for herself. Every time he stumbled on something, he risked seriously hurting himself. If the brambles and prickles were hurting her, she hated to think what they were doing to his beautiful and delicate legs. She’d once seen a horse hurt so badly that he’d been put down. She didn’t want the same thing to happen to Teddy—especially not after she’d saved him from a fire!
Stevie clung tightly to his neck. She couldn’t let Teddy get hurt. She just couldn’t!
She kept on talking to him, and finally he began to slow down. His gallop wound down to a canter. It should have been an easy rocking gait, comfortable even bareback, but Teddy was lame. He stumbled with almost every step, now feeling the pain of wounds that had been numbed for a while by his terror.
The canter became a trot.
“Whoa there, boy,” Stevie said. She tried shifting her weight, as she would have in a saddle, to signal him to stop. He slowed to a walk and then stopped.
Stevie made him walk until he cooled down and then she didn’t move from his back until she was certain he wasn’t going to take off again. They were in a clearing. She had no idea how far they were from camp or how they’d get back, but she could see that there was nothing for Teddy to fear in the clearing. The fire was a nightmare that was well out of sight, and, she hoped, out of mind.
She patted his neck soothingly, reassuringly. Teddy nodded his head in a familiar gesture. He was telling her that he was okay. She hoped he was right.
Slowly, Stevie slid down off his back. Moving carefully so as not to startle him, she checked him out. He had some nasty cuts on his legs, and the bruise on his hoof where she’d removed the stone was obviously bothering him a lot. Carrying her over all that rough terrain probably hadn’t helped, either.
Stevie looked around and found that she and Teddy were right next to a stream. She tested the water. It was cool and seemed fresh. She led Teddy over to it and let him have a sip. Then she scooped up the cool water in her hands and began cleansing his wounds. He pulled back from her, so she began talking again.
“Once upon a time …”
Teddy stood still while Stevie finished washing his cuts, talking the whole time. She could see just well enough in the moonlight to be fairly certain the bleeding was slowing down in most of the cuts. One of the cuts, though, was more serious. Stevie looked around for something to use as a bandage. The obvious answer was her other pajama leg—after all, she’d already sacrificed the first as a blindfold.
It did the trick. She wrapped it carefully around Teddy’s leg and tied it securely. Within a few minutes, the bleeding stopped.
“Don’t get into any more trouble, okay?” Stevie told Teddy. “Unlike you, I’ve only got two legs. I’m completely out of spare pajama parts!” She sighed. As long as she could joke, she was fine.
Stevie knew she ought to try to go back to camp. She knew people would be worried about her and Teddy, but she also knew she and Teddy were tired, very tired. The last thing they needed now was to wander through the woods and get even more lost than they already were. She secured Teddy’s lead rope on a branch near some wild grass that he could snack on, and sat down, leaning against a pine tree. She’d rest for just a minute.
The next thing Stevie knew, it was broad daylight. She was startled awake by the sound of her own name.
“Stevie! You’re all right!” Phil said, kneeling beside her.
She smiled weakly. “Yes, I am, and so is Teddy, though he’s got some cuts. I tried to bandage one of them—” she tried to explain. She wanted to assure Phil that everything was okay, but he didn’t give her a chance.
“Shut up,” he said, nearly whispering. “Because I can’t apologize to you if you’re doing all the talking.”
Stevie didn’t say a word.
“You’re good at taking care of horses. You’re also good at riding them. You’re a true friend, Stevie Lake, and I’ll be honored to be in the same horse show with you when the time comes and I won’t be surprised if you win every ribbon there is because you’ve got more guts than anybody I’ve ever known. What I’m trying to say is I think you’re terrific. I think you’re the greatest girl I ever met, and I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.”
“I don’t care about the horse show,” Stevie said wearily. “All I care about is the horses. And I’m not mad at you,” she promised. “Boy, I’m tired. I hope I’m not dreaming you’re here. How did you find us anyway?”
“We knew about what direction you’d taken off in, so Barry and I drove this way. You weren’t hard to spot. You’re only about ten feet from the road. We brought a van, so we can take you and Teddy back to camp right now.”
Stevie stood up and looked around, seeing the locale for the first time. If she’d known about the road in the dark, she might have been tempted to try to return on her own. She was glad she hadn’t. She couldn’t have walked another step. Neither could Teddy.
“Now about my horse,” Phil said. “I hope he hasn’t gotten too used to flowered bandages. Do you think the other horses will make fun of him?”
Stevie smiled. It felt very good to know that Phil could still joke, too.
STEVIE REALLY WANTED to see Lisa and Carole. There was so much to say, so much to tell them.
As Barry drove the van into camp, Stevie got her first look at the burned barn. Like many fires, it had done some unpredictable damage. The loft was completely gone and a lot of the main floor had been destroyed. Some parts had hardly been touched, though. The tack room, for instance, was dusty, smoky, and soaked from the firemen’s hoses, but the tack would be fine after a good cleaning.
“Oh, that’s great!” Stevie said. “That means we can still have our classes today!”
Barry looked at her sternly. “I think that today any rider who spent the night saving the lives of eight horses and tending to another in the pitch-black forest, ripping up her pajamas—to say nothing of her legs—just to protect a horse’s, should definitely take the day off. Besides, there’s something else you should see.”
Phil had brought along a pair of Stevie’s sneakers. She was glad to have them as she walked around the charred beams that lay scattered on the ground. She was even more glad to have them when Phil took her hand and led her to the barn’s lower entrance.
It was the same place she’d been just a few hours earlier. She remembered what had happened so clearly that she could almost feel the presence of the terrified horses and her own fear. She could hear their anxious cries, the nervous stomping of their feet in the dim light of the lower stable. It was the same place, but it didn’t look like it at all. It had been transformed into a yawning, pitch-black hole. Nothing was left of it except a few metal pieces that had survived the fire. Stevie picked up a charred bucket handle.
“Right after you and Teddy made your exit, the main floor collapsed in this section. The whole area was totally destroyed, and if you hadn’t been here to save the horses, they would have been destroyed as well,” Barry told her.
“And if you hadn’t done such a fast job of it—” Phil began.
“I get the picture,” Stevie interrupted. She didn’t want him to say the words. She began shivering, and the full weight of the work she’d done and the danger she’d barely escaped came crashing down on her. “Um, maybe I should go lie down,” she said a little unsteadily.
“Here, I’ll help you.” And Phil leaned over and picked her up, just like that!
Stevie sighed contentedly. T
his was definitely the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her. She rested her head on Phil’s shoulder and was nearly asleep by the time she reached Cabin Three.
THE SADDLE CLUB Meeting that afternoon lasted a long time. This Saddle Club Meeting was very different, though, because every single camper at Moose Hill was included. They each brought a pile of tack, a tin of saddle soap, water, and extra sponges. They found a shady spot near the mess hall and began to work, talking as they cleaned tack.
Stevie told everybody all about her adventures in the lower barn.
“You were a hero!” Lisa declared.
Stevie shook her head. “No way. I wasn’t waving towels at a frightened herd of horses who could have trampled you in a second. And I didn’t mount one of those horses in the paddock. Now that was heroic.”
“You should have seen the fence builders, Stevie,” Carole put in. “While some of us herded the horses, the rest put up a fence, instantly. They could have been trampled, too.”
Stevie smiled a little to herself.
“What’s so funny, Stevie?” Nora asked her.
Stevie shrugged. “Carole and Lisa and I decided long ago that what makes us friends is that we’re all horse crazy. I think it may be true of all of us—this whole group. Being horse crazy made us do the things we did last night, and look at us now.” There were smiles and nods of agreement. “On the other hand,” Stevie continued, “if you really think about what we did last night, you’d have to conclude that we’re all actually just plain crazy!” Everybody laughed. It was a wonderful sound.
Barry joined the group then. He sat down, picked up a bridle, and began soaping it.
“There are a couple of things you should know,” he informed the campers. “The firemen pinpointed the start of the fire, and there’s no doubt about it—it began in the moldy hay in the loft. What happens with moldy hay is that the process of rotting creates heat and oxygen. I don’t want to get too technical, but at some point, there’s enough heat and enough oxygen so that the whole thing begins to smolder. It doesn’t take much to start hay burning. Every stable manager knows it. And now you’ve seen the consequences. I’d given instructions to have the moldy hay removed from the loft, but apparently those instructions weren’t followed. The person responsible for that has left camp.”
Lisa had figured as much when she’d seen Fred earlier that day, angrily dumping his duffel bags into a station wagon and leaving camp.
“There is a bright side to all of this, though. First, and most important, all the horses are safe. There are minor injuries to take care of, but thanks to quick thinking and action on everyone’s part, the horses are okay.
“The other bright side is that although I loved that old barn, with its wonderful hayloft and smooth wooden floors, it was a barn, not a stable. I’ll be able to rebuild with the insurance money and we’ll have a real stable. It’ll be better than ever when you all return next year.
“Now, the final thing I want to say is that some of you have been concerned about the horse show and the judges who will be working with me and—”
Debbie interrupted him. “Barry, can I say something before you continue?”
For a second, Barry looked dubious. “Sure,” he said.
“I was acting dumb and selfish and I apologize for questioning the judging. Don’t make any changes, okay?”
Barry paused before speaking. “I wasn’t going to,” he said. “But I’m glad you agree.”
Lisa smiled. Debbie had come a long way from the girl who had had an argument with Barry just the day before. Actually, everybody had. It hadn’t taken much, Lisa thought to herself. Just a barn fire, terrified horses, courage, bravery, and the total cooperation of about thirty people who had previously viewed everyone else as a competitor instead of a teammate. No trouble at all.
LISA WASN’T CERTAIN whether it was more fun to get ready for a horse show or to be in one. All she knew was that she was having a great time.
“You look like an old pro,” Carole said, admiring Lisa’s outfit.
“I’m not, but my clothes are,” she joked. “I had to borrow gloves from Elsa, and I’m carrying a riding crop that Jack needs right after me. It belongs to Phil.”
That was the way the show was going. Everybody was pitching in to see that all the riders did the best they could. And all of them were doing their best.
“Well, good luck on the jumps,” Carole said.
“Thanks,” Lisa said. She might need some. After all, she’d only been jumping since camp started. But she didn’t really care if she took a ribbon. There were other beginners who were better than she was. She was just glad for the chance to show what she’d learned in ten days.
“Smile,” Betty said to her, breaking her train of thought. “You’re on!”
As soon as Barry called her name, she nudged Major into the ring. She circled it once, paused to tip her hat to the judges, just as she was supposed to, and then began her exercise.
Major loved it, but Lisa loved it even more. She had four jumps to go over. None of them was high, but her style and form were more important than how high she jumped. Major cantered gracefully toward the first jump. Just as she’d practiced a hundred times before, she rose in the saddle, leaned forward, held her hands by Major’s neck, and gave him as much rein as she thought he would need. At precisely the right moment, Major rose in the air and, it seemed to Lisa, flew right over the poles. He landed softly, and she shifted her weight and slid back into the saddle. Perfect!
After that, nothing else mattered to Lisa. If she’d fallen off at the next jump she wouldn’t have cared. She’d done one jump exactly right and she was proud of herself. Other people seemed to agree. Carole and Stevie and the rest of the campers were clapping for her. They all knew how much work that one jump represented. All that practice, all those hours had been worth it. As it turned out, she didn’t have to worry about the other three jumps. They went just fine. Lisa had the feeling, though, that no jump she ever made would feel quite as good as the first perfect one she made in a show.
STEVIE SMOOTHED HER jacket while she and Topside waited their turn.
“Stephanie Lake!” Barry announced. Time to go.
Stevie and Topside had already competed in the Intermediate Jumping and Conformation events. Now, they were in Dressage. This event tested the training of both the horse and the rider. It was an opportunity for both Topside and Stevie to show good balance, concentration, and obedience. It was sometimes hard for casual viewers to see what was happening, especially when it was done well, because in Dressage, the horse had to respond to nearly invisible commands from the rider.
Stevie entered the ring, saluted the judges, and started her prepared ride. Her routine had been designed to show Topside off to best advantage, and as she began, her head was swimming with dozens of terms she’d been studying, like rhythm, cadence, hocks engaged, collection, and, most of all, impulsion. Topside didn’t know any of those words, but he did everything perfectly. Together they made circles and curves at walk, trot, and canter. Stevie changed diagonals and leads, and their transitions were smooth as glass. Topside was in top form. Stevie couldn’t help grinning triumphantly. By the time she finished her stationary turns, one pivoting on a foreleg, another on a hindleg, Stevie knew she’d been perfect.
She completed her exercise and rode out of the ring to the sound of applause. She didn’t waste any time gloating about it, though. There was a lot of work to do. Since Teddy’s legs were still healing, Phil was riding Topside, too. They had to adjust the leathers for his lanky frame.
“He’s great,” Stevie said to Phil, patting Topside lovingly. “You’ll be fine. You’re better at this stuff than I am, and Topside’s better than both of us.”
“I don’t care about that now, Stevie,” Phil said. “Really.”
“Me, too,” she said, and she meant it. “It was really dumb, that idea we had about taking all the ribbons. It wasn’t any better than what Elsa and Debbie wer
e doing. We should have known better. Riding is for having a good time.”
“You got that right,” he agreed. “By the way, I heard that Elsa and Debbie asked Barry if we could all go out on another camp-out tonight after the show, and he said yes. Still got those marshmallows?”
“Philip Marston!” Barry announced.
“You’re up!” Stevie said, nodding in answer to his question. “Go get ’em!”
CAROLE WAS IN all the advanced classes with both Elsa and Debbie. Only two other riders were in those classes, because the advanced riders were so experienced.
Lisa, Stevie, and Phil watched them in awe.
“This is so great!” Lisa said. “I mean, having this chance to see kids who are so good. That big horse show we went to in New York was fantastic, but in a way I think this is even better. Those people at the show were almost professional riders, way better than I’ll ever be. But these guys are really good riders and they’re my age. It’s fabulous.”
“You mean she’s fabulous,” Stevie said, watching Debbie go over the jumps. “See how her body sort of folds when she gets ready to jump? It isn’t exactly leaning forward. It’s just about perfect.”
“Wow,” Lisa said, admiring Debbie’s skill. “She’s as good as she said she was.”
“You’re only ever as good as you are,” Stevie pointed out. “Talking doesn’t make you better. She learned that.”
“We all did,” Phil said.
Then it was Carole’s turn. She was wonderful, too. Lisa had watched her jump a lot, but she’d never seen her do better. When Carole was finished, there was a lot of applause. And nobody clapped louder than the other riders in the event.
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