“Well, hello there!” a cheerful voice said.
Lisa glanced up and saw the friendly businessman who’d helped her earlier with the cart. She smiled at him. “Hi! Looks like we’re on the same flight.”
“Looks like we’re in the same row,” the man corrected with a smile. He gestured at the middle seat in Lisa’s row. “This is me.”
The man sat down and introduced himself as Roger Martin, explaining that he was only traveling as far as Dallas, the plane’s stopover. “I’m going to a family reunion,” he explained. “My wife and kids got there a few days ago, but I had a meeting at work that I just couldn’t miss.”
Lisa introduced herself and said, “I’m going to visit my father for Thanksgiving. He lives in California. Where’s your family reunion?”
The man smiled. “Well, that’s the interesting part,” he said. “It’s at some kind of dude ranch down there in Texas. I’ve never been on a horse in my life! I’m a little nervous, especially since the whole family will be there with cameras.”
Lisa laughed. “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I ride a lot, and it’s really not as hard as it looks, especially at a dude ranch. The horses there are used to beginners.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Mr. Martin said, looking a little relieved. “The way my daughter has been talking, I was afraid they’d stick me on some kind of wild bucking bronco.” He settled back in his seat as the flight attendants made their way up and down the aisle, checking that everyone’s seat belt was secure before takeoff. “So, you said you’re a rider,” he added to Lisa. “Do you have your own horse?”
Lisa hesitated. That question brought up a lot of painful recent memories. The horse she’d always wanted to own, a beautiful Thoroughbred named Prancer, had died from complications of pregnancy just a week earlier. The memory of Prancer’s willing spirit and gentle, loving soul brought tears to Lisa’s eyes, as it always did these days, but she blinked them back before her seatmate could notice. “No,” she answered carefully. “Um, I ride the school horses at the stable where I take lessons. There are some really great ones there.”
“That’s nice,” Mr. Martin said cheerfully, obviously unaware of Lisa’s flash of sadness. The plane was taxiing down the runway, and he leaned forward to peer out the small window before returning his attention to Lisa. “So do you have any favorites?”
Lisa nodded, willing away an image of Prancer. “Sure,” she said. “There’s Barq, and good old Chip. And I really like Eve—she’s this sweet gray mare. Also, a couple of my friends have their own horses, and I’ve ridden them a few times. Their names are Starlight and Belle.”
The man looked a little confused. “Did you say one of the horses’ names is Bark?” he said. “As in, arf arf, good pup?”
Lisa laughed. “It’s B-A-R-Q,” she explained. “Barq. It’s the Arabian word for lightning. Barq is an Arabian horse with a lightning-shaped blaze.”
“Ah!” The man smiled. “Okay, now that makes a little more sense. So how long have you been riding, Lisa?”
“Since I was thirteen.” Lisa realized she was actually starting to feel calmer and more relaxed than she’d been in days. I know exactly what Carole would say about that, she thought with a secret smile. She’d say that talking about horses makes any day better. And I guess maybe she’s right.
“Michael, are you totally deaf?” Stevie Lake asked irritably, glancing into the living room from the hallway. “If that TV was any louder, those stupid cartoons of yours would be breaking the sound barrier.” She took another swipe at the hall’s hardwood floor with a paper towel, rubbing in the last few spots of cleaner.
“I have to have it loud,” Stevie’s thirteen-year-old brother replied without glancing away from the TV screen. He was sitting on the living room couch with his feet propped up on the family’s golden retriever, Bear, who was sound asleep on the rug. “I figure you and Alex will be breaking out the vacuum cleaner any second now.”
Stevie’s twin brother, Alex, walked down the hall toward her just in time to hear Michael’s comment. He rolled his eyes. “Good guess, twerp,” he muttered. He glanced at Stevie. “When I went to the kitchen to rinse out the bucket, Mom said we should meet her in there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the living room. “She wants to talk to us. Probably about, like, how we missed a spot when we scrubbed out the fireplace.”
“Ugh.” Stevie sighed and wadded up her paper towel, rocking back on her heels and rubbing her neck. She glanced at her watch. “I can’t believe this. It’s eight-fifteen in the morning and I’m already exhausted.”
“Right.” Alex looked just as disgruntled as Stevie felt. “But don’t forget, that’s eight-fifteen on a Saturday morning.”
“Eight-fifteen on a Saturday morning at the start of a holiday week,” Stevie corrected. “Everybody we know is celebrating having a week’s break from school, and what are we doing?”
Alex shrugged. “The same thing we’ve been doing for the past million years,” he mumbled.
Stevie’s fist tightened around the soggy paper towel. “It just doesn’t seem fair, does it?” she said. “I mean, okay, I know we made a major mistake with that party. But still, do we really have to pay with all of our holidays? First Halloween, now Thanksgiving—how many holidays are we going to spend working our fingers to the bone when we should be out having fun?”
Alex shrugged again and glanced over his shoulder. “I think I hear Mom coming,” he said. “Come on, let’s see what thrilling stuff she has lined up for us this weekend.”
He led the way into the living room. After tossing her paper towel into the garbage bag, Stevie followed and flopped onto the couch beside Michael.
“Hey! Watch it!” Michael shot her an irritated glance, and even Bear lifted his head for a moment and blinked at her. “I’m trying to watch TV here, you know,” Michael snapped. “And aren’t you two supposed to be working?”
“Not right now,” Mrs. Lake said, striding in. “I need to talk to your brother and sister about something.” She went to the TV set and switched it off.
“Hey!” Michael complained. But at a stern glance from his mother, he just sighed loudly and slunk out of the room, followed by the dog.
“Thanks, Mom,” Stevie said. “You may have just saved that boy’s hearing.”
“Hmmm.” Mrs. Lake glanced at the doorway. “Yes, well. Your father should be along soon. He wanted to be here for this.”
“Be here for what?” Alex asked, folding his arms and leaning back against the edge of the bookcase.
Mrs. Lake didn’t answer. Instead, she walked to the doorway and looked out into the hall.
Stevie gave her mother a curious glance, wondering what was going on. Had she discovered some chore for them that was so awful she needed backup to tell them? Or were she and Mr. Lake planning to rent Stevie and Alex out to the neighbors as a kind of roving teenage cleaning squad?
Suddenly another possibility occurred to Stevie. Yikes, she thought nervously. I hope she didn’t hear somehow about that time back in August when I sneaked out to meet Phil when I was supposed to be spending the night at Carole’s. If she did, she’s probably going to tell us that we’re grounded for the rest of our natural lives. Or at least that I am.
Taking another peek at her mother, though, Stevie felt a little better. Mrs. Lake didn’t look angry or upset. In fact, she looked downright relaxed. Instead of one of the tailored suits she wore during the week to her law office, she was dressed casually in corduroys and a lightweight sweater. Her dark blond hair, still the same shade as Stevie’s own, was pulled back in a couple of barrettes, giving her a youthful look.
Finally Stevie couldn’t hold back her curiosity any longer. “So what’s this all about, anyway?” she said. “Can’t you at least give us a hint?”
“A hint,” Mrs. Lake repeated thoughtfully. “A hint? No, I don’t think so.”
Stevie shot Alex a worried look. Their mother was usually plainspoken: It wasn’t l
ike her to be so vague. In fact, she was acting downright weird. What was going on?
Before she could come up with any new theories, Mr. Lake walked in. He glanced at his wife. “Did you tell them yet?”
Mrs. Lake shook her head. “I thought we should both be here for this.”
“Good.” Mr. Lake looked pleased. He clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the twins. “Well then.”
Stevie thought that if her parents didn’t hurry up and spill whatever it was they wanted to say, she was going to scream. “Okay, here we are,” she said. “So what is it? Do we have to disinfect the septic tank or something?”
“Don’t give them any ideas,” Alex muttered.
Mr. and Mrs. Lake laughed. “No, nothing like that,” Mrs. Lake said.
“In fact, it’s good news.” Mr. Lake cleared his throat. “You see, your mother and I have been discussing your sentence, and we both think you two have really been quite mature about taking responsibility for your actions and serving your time accordingly.”
“Most of the time, anyway,” Mrs. Lake added with a slight smile. “But complaints or no, you’ve been pretty good.”
Mr. Lake grinned. “Right. Besides, our whole house is spotless, thanks to all those extra chores of yours. So we’ve decided to give you an early parole for good behavior.”
Stevie gasped. “Are you serious? We’re free?”
“We’re not grounded anymore?” Alex asked at almost the same time.
Mr. and Mrs. Lake laughed. “You got it,” Mrs. Lake said. “You’re both free. Just remember, the next time you do anything like that …”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Stevie said. “There won’t be a next time. We’ve learned our lesson!”
“Totally,” Alex agreed. He jumped to his feet. “So does this mean we can leave, like, now? Use the phone, whatever?”
“Sure does,” his father assured him. “So what are you waiting for?”
“Just this,” Stevie said, hopping over the coffee table and grabbing her parents for a group hug. “Thanks, guys!” Then she loosened her grip and raised her arms in the air. “Yippee! We’re free!”
TWO
Carole Hanson smothered a yawn as she climbed out of her car in the parking lot of a local shopping center. It was amazing to her that she could feel so tired after a full night’s sleep. Any other Saturday morning she would have been at the stable for hours already. But somehow, doing anything else at eight-thirty on a Saturday morning seemed a lot less reasonable compared to staying in bed.
It’s hard to believe that exactly one week ago today I was on my way to the Colesford Horse Show, she thought, reaching around to check on her thick black braid. She’d been so sleepy while plaiting it that she wasn’t sure she’d remembered to snap a rubber band around the end. It seems more like a year ago. Or maybe a decade.
“Carole! Over here!”
Carole turned and saw the vice principal of her school, Dr. Durbin, waving at her from beside a large white van. Several other adults were clustered around the vehicle, many of them holding steaming plastic cups of coffee.
Giving Dr. Durbin a quick wave in response, Carole locked her car door and headed toward the group. She vaguely recognized most of the people around the van from the Hometown Hope meeting she’d attended earlier in the week. Carole had joined the volunteer group at her vice principal’s suggestion as a way to avoid further punishment for cheating on a history test. That was why she was standing in a chilly parking lot that morning, preparing to head across town with the group to clean up a run-down park.
Now all I have to do is survive the day somehow without going crazy, she thought glumly. And then start working on surviving tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that, and the one after that.…
She sighed, trying to block out the image of the days reeling forward, far into the future. Empty days. Days without the joy and comfort of everything she cared about most—horses, friends, fun. Maybe this Hometown Hope project would at least distract her enough so that she wouldn’t spend every single second of the day longing for everything she’d lost.
“Good morning, Carole,” Dr. Durbin said when Carole reached the adults. “Glad to see you here bright and early.”
“Glad to be here,” Carole lied, forcing a smile. She definitely wanted to stay on Dr. Durbin’s good side. The vice principal was known to be tough and Carole was sure it was only her own otherwise spotless record that had allowed her a relatively painless punishment.
After all, it could be worse, she reminded herself, smiling politely as Dr. Durbin introduced her to the other adults standing with her. I could be sitting in weekend detention right now. Or I could be suspended—Dad would just love that. He’d probably tack another month onto my grounding.
If those thoughts were supposed to make her feel better about being where she was, they didn’t work. Carole wasn’t sure anything would make her feel better just at the moment.
Well, except maybe wrapping my arms around Starlight and giving him a hug, she thought glumly. And we all know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.
Suddenly realizing that everyone was staring at her, Carole snapped back to the here and now. “Huh?” she blurted out.
Dr. Durbin gave her a careful look. “Mr. Jackson just asked if this is your first volunteer experience,” the vice principal said.
“Oh! S-Sorry,” Carole stammered. “Er, I guess I’m still a little sleepy.” She had no idea which of the several men standing around was Mr. Jackson, so she smiled vaguely at all of them. “And yes, this is my first time. I mean, I’ve helped with some horseback-riding-type stuff, like Free Rein—you know, the therapeutic riding center. Oh, and I’ve done a few things for the local animal rescue place. But nothing like Hometown Hope.”
“I’ve done some work for the County Animal Rescue League, too,” commented an older woman with bright blue eyes. “If you enjoyed that, sugar, I’m sure you’ll love this, too.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Carole said noncommittally. She wasn’t expecting to love anything about the next few weeks. As she saw it, the most she could hope for was surviving them somehow without going nuts.
As the adults chatted about past Hometown Hope projects, another van pulled into the parking lot with a young man at the wheel. “Well now. There’s Craig,” Dr. Durbin said, glancing over at the newcomer. “Guess that means it’s time to get this show on the road.”
Carole barely glanced at Craig Skippack, the leader of the group, as he climbed out of the driver’s seat. She was busy thinking about her own bad luck. Yes, it was better to be out in the fresh air, getting some exercise, doing some good, than to be sitting at home or in detention. But why couldn’t Dr. Durbin be involved with something like Free Rein instead of Hometown Hope? Then at least Carole would get to be around horses.
Yeah, right, she thought. Fat chance that Dad would have agreed to letting me volunteer at another stable, no matter how good the cause. She knew that her father blamed her involvement with Pine Hollow for her problem at school. And is he wrong about that? she asked herself. I mean, if I hadn’t been so worried about not being able to ride …
She shook her head, as if by doing so she could shake the whole topic out of her mind. She’d been over and over her transgression a million times. What good did it do to worry about why she’d cheated? She’d done it, and now she was paying for a moment’s bad judgment with a month of misery. That was all she needed to know.
The whole group gathered around, and Craig gave a little speech about the project they were starting. Carole zoned in and out during the whole thing, trying to blend in at the back of the group and look as if she were paying attention.
Finally the group leader stopped talking and asked if there were any questions. When nobody had any, Craig shrugged and ran one hand over his thinning hair. “Okay, then, great,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s pile in and get going!”
The other volunteers let out a ragged but enthusiastic cheer, and Carole fo
rced a smile onto her face. She didn’t want anyone to notice how miserable she was. Nobody would understand. It was a Saturday morning, and she should be riding.
The entire group somehow crammed itself into the two vans. Carole found herself perched on the edge of the rear seat of Craig’s van, squeezed between the metal wall of the vehicle and a thin young man with wire-rimmed glasses and wavy brown hair.
“Wow,” the young man said jokingly. “I think we should call this thing the Sardine Can Van.”
Carole nodded and smiled politely, then turned to look out the tiny porthole window nearby, hoping to end any potential conversation before it could begin. She knew the young man was just being friendly, and she felt a little guilty about acting so rude. But she just couldn’t work up the energy to trade friendly conversation with anyone or force a laugh at anyone’s lame jokes. She was focusing all her energy on not bursting into tears at the thought of being there, of being stuck picking up trash and painting rusty old playground equipment, rather than doing what she had loved doing almost every other Saturday morning for the past eleven years or so.
The younger kids are probably starting their Pony Club meeting right about now, she thought. It’s a mounted meeting this week, which means Rachel will be on Starlight.
She sighed, picturing her spunky bay gelding trotting around Pine Hollow’s schooling ring with Rachel Hart in the saddle. She knew she should be spending every spare moment thanking her lucky stars that she’d found such a good solution to her problem. After all, Rachel was a good rider and probably the most responsible junior-high-age rider at Pine Hollow. It was lucky that she was trying to convince her parents to buy her a horse and was eager to prove how responsible she could be in caring for one. That had made her quick to accept Carole’s proposal—free riding on Starlight during Carole’s grounding in exchange for basic care and attention.
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