The Long Ride

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The Long Ride Page 5

by Bonnie Bryant


  “Right, I’m Callie,” Callie confirmed testily. “And you are?”

  “Oh, well, I’m Carole. Um, Carole Hanson,” the girl said. “I’m in charge of the office in the mornings this summer, so I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of one another, and you’ll have to be sure to let me know if there are things I can do for you because we want you to be happy with Pine Hollow. It’s a wonderful stable. I’ve been riding here since I was—oh, I guess about ten or something, and you’re just going to love it here, Carrie—um, Callie.”

  Carole couldn’t believe what she was saying, but there didn’t seem to be any way to stop herself. Her mouth kept going when it was more than apparent that her brain had stopped working eight or ten sentences before. And even while those thoughts were crowding into her mind, she was still talking, by now onto the subject of feeding schedules. “And everyone pitches in. We all help around here. Of course, I do because I work here, but even when I was just a rider with her own horse here—you passed right by Starlight’s—”

  “Where’s Fez?” Callie asked.

  That stopped Carole. How could she be so dumb? Callie didn’t need anyone to give her a sales pitch on Pine Hollow. Of course the only thing she cared about was her horse.

  “Um, right here,” Carole said. She took a few steps back and revealed the Arab to his new owner. “We even had his nameplate installed.”

  “Right,” Callie said brusquely. She stepped up to the horse and took a critical look at him. “He seems to have come through the trip okay. Did he give you much trouble getting off the van?”

  Carole was about to answer when she realized the question hadn’t been directed to her. Callie was speaking to Ben.

  “Yup,” he said. He didn’t elaborate. Carole envied his restraint.

  Callie reached up and patted the horse. His first instinct was to pull back, but he had second thoughts about that and let her touch him. She clicked her tongue and scratched him on the cheek. He responded with as much affection as Carole had seen from him since he’d arrived.

  “You’re good,” Carole said; genuinely admiring Callie’s skill.

  “I love horses, it’s that simple,” Callie said.

  That smarted. Callie had managed to imply that Carole didn’t love horses, and nothing could be farther from the truth. But Callie was a customer, a paying boarder, a congressman’s daughter, a champion rider. And Carole was in charge of making her feel welcome at Pine Hollow.

  “It shows,” Carole told Callie. What she didn’t say was that other things showed, too.

  FIVE

  Carole pasted a smile on her face. “I’d like to show you the office and let you see how we keep our records,” she said.

  “On computer, I presume,” said Callie. “I don’t really need to see it. I’m sure it’s just fine. That’s the way Henry did everything at the stable back home. It’s all standard. I’m sure you’re up to date.”

  Carole swallowed. In fact, Max had long considered shifting Pine Hollow’s records to computer, but he believed that the books had the advantage of being very portable and entirely secure from the dangers of power outages. Perhaps Callie would be interested to know about that.

  “Actually, we keep notebooks for each horse. That way, if there’s a problem with the power, or whatever—well, you know.”

  “Right, whatever,” Callie said, dismissing Carole and her explanation. She seemed annoyed and harried. Carole lost every bit of self-confidence she’d ever had and became convinced that Callie’s annoyance was completely her fault. Normally, when the subject was horses, Carole was relaxed and at ease. Today she felt like a bundle of nerves.

  Callie swallowed hard. This wasn’t easy on her. Everything, including the horse she was expected to ride, was new. New wasn’t something that Callie liked or did well with. She liked things that were familiar. For the umpteenth time, she found herself wishing she were as flexible as Scott. Scott was always instantly at home wherever he was—except now, of course. Right now he was out in the car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for Callie and wishing he could already be at the high school talking with the debate coach.

  Well, Callie still had a few minutes, and she intended to use them to find out all she could about Pine Hollow and her new horse’s care.

  “What about the exercise schedule for boarders?” Callie asked. At her last stable, Henry had set aside Monday and Wednesday mornings and Friday late afternoons exclusively for horse owners. There were no classes at those times, so the owners could use all the facilities without competing with classes and occasional riders. It had worked well for Greensprings Stable, and she wondered if Pine Hollow had anything like it.

  The question confused Carole. Boarders were expected to exercise their own horses, and they could do it whenever they wanted. It helped if they let the office know when they were coming, but they were certainly entitled to come over anytime at all. But maybe that wasn’t what Callie meant. She was, after all, a champion rider and the daughter of a congressman, so she was probably used to getting VIP treatment. There was no way Pine Hollow was going to come in second to any other stable.

  “We’ll see to it that Fez gets all the exercise he needs,” said Carole.

  “You turn the horses out on some sort of schedule?”

  “Well, that, of course,” Carole said. “But every horse has individual needs, and we’ll see that they’re met. A champ like Fez needs to be ridden to stay in top form.”

  “At least four times a week,” said Callie.

  “Just what I thought,” said Carole. “We’ll see to it as part of his board here.”

  “You’ll do the exercising?” Callie asked.

  “Well, me or whoever is available,” Carole said. “Nothing but the best for our clients—and their owners.”

  “Oh, that’s interesting,” said Callie. “Back home, I always had to exercise my horse myself, and four times a week is a lot, especially when school’s open. But if you can do the exercising for me—well, that takes off a lot of pressure. It’ll mean that when I do ride him, I can focus on skills and not just on seeing to it that he’s getting enough exercise to stay supple and strong. That’s great news.”

  Perhaps it was great news for Callie, but Carole didn’t think it was such good news for herself. She’d blundered into making an outrageously generous offer, and Callie had taken her up on it. If she’d heard herself right, she’d just told Callie she would ride Fez for at least an hour four times a week. Carole caught Ben looking at her darkly.

  “Ben?” she said, hoping for some kind of rescue.

  She got no rescue from him. He just nodded.

  “Fez is a spirited horse,” Callie began.

  “I know that,” said Carole.

  “He’s going to need a good workout every time he’s ridden.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “I always take my horse through a set of exercises, really a program, designed to work on various skills and to maintain all his body strength, because when we compete, we’ll need it all—both his strength and mine. Fez’ll need to be worked hard, but not exhausted. You can’t wear him out; you need to strengthen him.”

  “I know,” said Carole.

  “A horse that’s worked too hard before a competition doesn’t have anything to give when it counts.”

  “Of course,” said Carole.

  “So it’s very important that you follow a rigorous schedule. That’s what I’ve always done in the past. I knew exactly what my last horse needed. In the case of Fez, well, it’s a whole new horse with new needs. I can’t take the time now to give you a program—but maybe you have some ideas.”

  “Sure,” said Carole. By now she was feeling totally lost. She’d committed her afternoons to Fez. Why not add her evenings, too? She could develop an exercise program for this horse, couldn’t she?

  Callie edged toward the door. Carole was more than a little relieved to see that she was leaving. She was afraid if Callie stayed another minute,
she’d make another offer Callie couldn’t refuse. Perhaps their new house needed some rugs, in which case Carole was sure to offer to lie down and let the whole family walk on her!

  “Look, I’ll call in a couple of days and we can talk about the program you’ve got planned. I’ll need to check it.”

  “Definitely,” Carole said.

  “Bye.” Callie gave Carole and Ben an ever so slight wave of her hand and hurried out of the stable.

  Carole was stunned. She still could hardly believe what had happened, what she’d said, what she’d promised. She turned to Ben for comfort. For a long moment they didn’t say anything to one another. Then Ben spoke.

  “Sounds like you’re going to be busy this summer, Carole.”

  He was right about that. She’d just made a deal to exercise another owner’s horse. This wasn’t a service Pine Hollow normally provided, and even if it did, it wasn’t something Carole was being paid to do. That meant that she was going to be doing it on her own time, and for no money. Worse still, every afternoon she spent riding Fez was an afternoon she couldn’t be riding Starlight.

  SIX

  “Lisa! I got it!” Stevie whispered gleefully as she emerged from the manager’s office. “I got a job! I’m going to make money. I’ll be rich, rich, rich!”

  “You mean you’ll be able to pay for your insurance, insurance, insurance,” Lisa teased.

  “Well, that, and maybe a little bit more. People give tips, you know.”

  “For good service,” Lisa said.

  “You’re being the voice of reason, and I’m not at all sure I like that.”

  “I’ll try to do better,” Lisa said. She stood up and threw her trash in the can. The two of them headed for the door. “When do you start?”

  “Tonight—five o’clock sharp,” Stevie said. She reached for the door.

  The manager hurried out of his office. “Oh, Stephanie, I forgot to give you this,” he said. He handed her a package. “It’s your uniform.”

  “Uniform?”

  “Well, really, just a hat and a T-shirt. You can wear your own jeans or skirt—whatever you want. But when you’re knocking on strangers’ doors, you must have something to identify yourself as the delivery person from Pizza Manor.”

  “Sure,” Stevie said. She opened the package. The T-shirt was simple enough. It had the store’s logo, a cartoon character dressed as a medieval knight. That was why it was called Pizza Manor. The hat, however, was not so simple. It was like the one the little cartoon character wore. It was made of felt, with a brim that was rolled up along the edges but pointed in front—like something Robin Hood might have worn on a bad hair day. Worst of all, feathers sprouted from the headband.

  “Isn’t it cute?” the manager asked.

  “Very,” Stevie said, hoping she was keeping her voice even. She didn’t want him to sense her rising panic.

  “See you later!” he said cheerfully. He retreated to his office before Stevie could reply. She turned to Polly Giacomin, who was still standing patiently behind the counter.

  “Nobody told me about this!” Stevie exploded.

  “Didn’t you wonder why he was so worried about having to make the deliveries himself tonight?” she teased.

  Lisa began giggling. “Put it on,” she said. Stevie donned the hat and slipped the elastic band under her chin. She grimaced.

  Lisa adjusted the hat to a jaunty angle. “It’s you!” she declared. Polly grinned.

  “It’s a good thing there aren’t any mirrors in this place,” Stevie said. “I have a feeling I’m better off not knowing how I look. Now, Polly, tell me—are there any other nasty surprises in store for me?”

  “No,” Polly said. “We make good pizza, so people are usually happy to have it. And they do give good tips, so all of our delivery people in the past have been pleased with that—Oh, there is one thing.”

  “Uh-oh,” said Stevie.

  “Not that bad, but I just ought to warn you. Mr. Andrews is a really nice guy, but he’s totally gung ho about this place—like it’s his life. He’s always worried that one of us is going to do something to upset a customer. That’s when he tells us to ‘Mind your Pizza Manors.’”

  “I’m not sure I need insurance this badly,” Stevie said.

  “Oh, yes you do,” Lisa said.

  “You’re just afraid Alex will have to pay all of it,” Stevie accused her.

  “No. I’m just afraid you’re going to want to borrow money from me and Carole,” Lisa said. “Well, we’re both broke, so you are going to have to wear a dumb hat and earn it. Or let Alex have the car all the time, which might be okay, too. Come on. I have to get home. Say good-bye to Polly, um, politely,” she said.

  Stevie turned to Polly, slid the silly hat off her head with her right hand, brandished it gallantly, then placed it over her heart while she bowed, her left foot in front of her right one. “Milady,” she said.

  “And you haven’t even taken the training course yet!” Polly said.

  Lisa hurried Stevie out of the shop before she could ask Polly what she meant. Stevie did need the job, and Lisa didn’t want her to quit before she even started. Moreover, she was now crunched for time. They had to get going. She settled into the passenger seat of Stevie’s car.

  “Where to?” Stevie asked. “Your place or miner?”

  “Mine,” Lisa told her. “I’ve got to do some organizing for my trip, and life is easier if I do that kind of thing when Mom isn’t around. Although it’s been more than a year since Dad got remarried, Mom still resents it and the fact that he moved across the country. She calls Dad’s new wife ‘that woman,’ and she won’t even mention the baby. I guess I can understand. It wouldn’t make me happy if I were her, but it sure has made him happy.”

  “It doesn’t make me or Carole or Alex happy, either,” Stevie said, just to remind Lisa that her mother wasn’t the only one who would miss her that summer.

  “It changes everything. I know that,” Lisa said. “Change can be great, but sometimes it’s just too much. When my parents split up and Dad moved to California, I felt like I was being cut in half—half of me loved Mom and the other half loved Dad, and the half that loved Mom hated Dad and the half that loved Dad hated Mom. It’s tough having all that love and hate all mixed up inside. I mean … I still wish it hadn’t happened, but the fact is that there was so much tension in our house all the time that life is a lot easier with them apart from one another. The real trouble is that Mom is miserable and Dad is deliriously happy. When I spend time with Mom, I try to make her feel better, and when I spend time with Dad, I’m relieved that I don’t have to cope with that, and then I feel guilty that I’m relieved. Isn’t that great? No matter what I do, it hurts. I feel like I’m caught in the middle. I know that how I’m feeling isn’t particularly rational. I mean, none of this is my fault. But it still hurts. But as time goes by, I feel it a little bit less and hurt a little bit less. I think it’s the same for Mom and Dad, too. Mom is getting better, slowly. Dad is admitting that what he did was hurtful—even if it wasn’t wrong for him. And we’re all going on with our lives.”

  Stevie was glad she was behind the wheel and could pretend she was concentrating on the road in front of her. This was the first time in more than two years that Lisa had talked so much about her parents and how their divorce had affected her. Both Stevie and Carole had known that all these things were going on in Lisa’s mind and heart because they were best friends, but Lisa had never shown much inclination to talk about them. Now she was talking, and Stevie’s sole job was to listen.

  “So now I’m going off to my dad’s. It’ll be more relaxed than here—if you don’t count looking after Lily. She’s the cutest thing. I never thought I’d have a baby sister, and I certainly never thought it would happen when I was in high school—in a way, that’s an awful thought—but it’s happened and she’s adorable and I love her and I’m glad to spend time with her and I’m glad to be with my dad when he’s so obviously happy to
have me and Evelyn and Lily there with him. It’s like there’s enough air out there to breathe, and there isn’t here, certainly not at my house, anyway. Do you think the air in California is really different?”

  “I’ve never been there,” Stevie said. “I guess the weather’s better.”

  “I don’t think that’s it,” said Lisa.

  “Probably not,” Stevie agreed. She pulled into Lisa’s driveway and stopped the car smoothly. She didn’t know what to say. Everything seemed inadequate. Lisa smiled understandingly.

  “Tell Alex I’m home, will you?” she asked.

  “I think he knows already,” Stevie said. She pointed to her own home, a few houses down the block. Alex had emerged from the front door and was heading toward Lisa’s house. “Radar,” Stevie said in explanation.

  “Thanks,” said Lisa. “For the lift and for letting me talk.”

  “You’re welcome,” Stevie said, meaning it.

  “And congratulations on getting your job. Don’t worry about the hat. It looks so silly on your head that nobody will take it seriously at all.”

  “You really know how to make a girl feel good, don’t you?”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Lisa said before she closed the car door and headed into her house.

  Stevie waved at her twin as she passed him on her way back to their house. He was so focused on getting to Lisa’s that Stevie didn’t think he really saw her at all. That was okay. She was glad that her best friend had someone who loved her that much—even if it was only Stevie’s brother.

  “Hi, Lis’,” Alex said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and taking her hand. “Got a minute?”

  “Always,” Lisa said, squeezing his hand back. “I wanted to see you today anyway. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do, and you can help.”

  “Like choose what shirts you’re going to take to California?”

  “No, actually, what CDs I should take. That’s more up your alley than fashion, right?”

  “Definitely,” he agreed. She led him into the den, where she kept her music collection.

 

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