IS PINE HOLLOW STABLES HAUNTED?
“That’s not the first weird thing that’s happened around here lately,” Mrs. Reg said, shaking her head slowly. She sat down on the edge of a trunk, looking thoughtful. “Have you girls ever heard of poltergeists?”
“Sure,” Lisa said promptly. “They’re a sort of mischievous, playful ghost.”
“Not always so playful,” Mrs. Reg corrected. “They can be very destructive, if you believe the people who say they’ve been haunted by them. Like the people at Nevermore Stables. After almost a year of mysterious, annoying, sometimes dangerous mishaps—misplaced tack, unlatched gates, odd tapping and banging noises, things like that—they had no choice but to close down. The students were convinced it was a poltergeist at work, and they quit in droves.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Carole said. “Even the best-run stable has an occasional accident.”
The worried crease in Mrs. Reg’s forehead deepened. “Occasional, yes,” she said softly. “But when the occasional becomes the everyday, well …”
RL 5, 009–012
HORSE MAGIC
A Bantam Skylark Book / September 1995
Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
Registered in U.S. Ruent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.
“The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books.
“USPC” and “Porry Club” are registered trademarks of the United States Porry Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511–8462.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1995 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.
eISBN: 978-0-307-82544-5
Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.
v3.1
I would like to express my special thanks
to Catherine Hapka for
her help in the writing of this book.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
“I’M GLAD YOU could come today, Phil,” Carole Hanson said, leaning back against the wall of Pine Hollow Stables’ indoor ring. “Mr. Toll’s talk should be really interesting.”
“I’m glad, too,” Phil Marsten agreed. “Once in a while Stevie actually manages to come up with a good idea.” He turned to grin at Stevie Lake, his girlfriend and one of Carole’s two best friends.
Stevie replied by sticking out her tongue at him, and Carole laughed. It was a rainy Saturday morning in October, and in a few minutes it would be time for the weekly meeting of Pine Hollow’s Pony Club, Horse Wise. This week’s meeting was unmounted. When they were having a discussion instead of riding, Max allowed them to invite guests. Stevie had invited Phil, who rode at a stable in a neighboring town and belonged to a different Pony Club chapter there. The scheduled speaker was a local farmer named Mr. Toll who owned Clydesdales and other workhorses. These giant, hardworking beasts didn’t have a whole lot in common with the riding horses at Pine Hollow, but they were still horses, and that was the most important thing of all, in Carole’s opinion. She loved all horses. In fact, she and Stevie and their other best friend, Lisa Atwood, loved horses and riding so much that they had formed The Saddle Club. The group had only two rules: Members had to be horse-crazy, and they had to be willing to help each other out in any way necessary.
Carole could hardly wait to hear Mr. Toll speak. She had first met him when her father had hired the old farmer to take Carole and her friends on a hayride for her birthday. She knew that he was an expert on old-fashioned farming methods as well as on breeding and training workhorses. Carole was glad that Max Regnery, the owner of Pine Hollow and the girls’ riding instructor, liked his students to be well rounded and learn everything they could about everything having to do with horses—from fox hunting to horse racing and from show grooming to basic veterinary care. It made their favorite subject even more interesting.
“I wonder where Lisa is?” Stevie said, interrupting Carole’s thoughts. “It’s not like her to be late.”
As if on cue, Lisa hurried into the ring. She looked around until she spotted her friends, then hurried over and plopped down next to them. “Whew!” she exclaimed, red-faced and out of breath. “I thought I’d never get here.”
“We thought so, too,” Stevie replied. “What happened?”
“It was my mother’s fault,” Lisa began. That was no surprise to the others. Mrs. Atwood was the one who had first insisted that Lisa learn to ride. She thought it was one of the things every proper young lady should be able to do, along with needlepoint, ballet, piano, and about a dozen other boring things. It was definitely not part of Mrs. Atwood’s plan for her daughter to become horse-crazy, but that was exactly what had happened. Since Lisa was a straight-A student who excelled at just about everything she did, she was already a very good rider, even though she hadn’t been riding as long as Carole and Stevie had. Mrs. Atwood didn’t exactly disapprove of her daughter’s favorite hobby, but she didn’t always understand why it was so important for Lisa to be on time for things like Horse Wise meetings.
“What did she do, stop along the way to sign you up for mambo lessons?” Stevie teased.
“Not exactly,” Lisa said with a grin. “But I’m sure she would have if she’d thought of it. Actually, she had to stop at the dry cleaner’s to pick up her Halloween costume. She and my dad are going to a party next weekend.”
“What’s the costume?” Carole asked, feeling a twinge of sadness. The three girls had decided the previous year that they were getting too old for trick-or-treating and wouldn’t be dressing up anymore. Carole had agreed with the decision at the time, but now that the holiday was rolling around again she was starting to regret it. Dressing up for Halloween was an awful lot of fun. Carole had even come up with an idea for a costume before she remembered she wouldn’t need it. It was too bad—she was sure her friends would have loved it.
Lisa rolled her eyes. “My mom wears the same costume every year—Cinderella.”
The others laughed. That sounded like just the kind of costume Mrs. Atwood would like.
“Horse Wise, come to order!” With those words, Max strode into the ring, followed by two other adults. One of them was Mr. Toll. The other was a slim, pretty young woman wearing jeans and a patterned blouse.
“I wonder who that is,” Stevie whispered to Phil. “She doesn’t exactly look like a farmer’s assistant.”
“I know you’re all looking forward to hearing Mr. Toll speak today,” Max began. “But first I’d like to introduce you to a surprise guest who’s going to take a few minutes to
talk to you before Mr. Toll gets started. This is Susan Connors. She works with Deborah at the paper.” Deborah Hale, Max’s wife, was a reporter for a newspaper in nearby Washington, D.C.
“Hello, everyone,” Susan Connors said when Max was finished. “Thanks for letting me speak to you today. I know you’re all eager to get on with your meeting, so I’ll be brief. I’m a volunteer for a nonprofit organization called City Kids/Country Kids.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Lisa whispered to her friends. “My parents have donated money to them.”
“What we do,” Susan continued, “is try to help disadvantaged kids in Washington, D.C. For one thing, we work with several other charity groups to distribute food, clothing, and other necessities. But in addition to taking care of their needs, we try to find ways for them to have fun. Because the neighborhoods where most of them live aren’t always safe places to play, we sponsor trips to places that are. In the summer, for instance, we run a camp in the Blue Ridge Mountains. We also run several team sports leagues that play on the Mall in D.C. But besides those regular programs we’re always looking for other places to take groups of kids—farms, national parks, anyplace we think will be fun for them.”
Carole immediately raised her hand. “Maybe some of the kids could come here to Pine Hollow,” she suggested eagerly. “I’m sure they’d love to see all the beautiful horses here, maybe even learn to ride …” Her voice trailed off when she glanced at Max, who looked annoyed. Biting her lip, she realized that he was probably mad at her for volunteering his stable without permission. Carole knew that her offer had been impetuous, but whenever there was a problem, she couldn’t help trying to come up with a solution involving horses. The idea of bringing city kids to Pine Hollow for a day of fresh air and horses made perfect sense to her. Still, Max ran a pretty tight ship, and he might not like the idea of a bunch of strangers running around interrupting the routine.
But her fears were put to rest a second later when Max’s expression changed into a rueful smile. “I should have known you’d jump the gun on my great idea, Carole,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I’ve already volunteered Pine Hollow to Susan as the site for the group’s Halloween party next Saturday.”
“That’s right,” Susan said over the surprised gasps that greeted the announcement. “We had another site lined up, but it fell through. It’s really great of Max to agree to this at the last minute.” She smiled at Carole. “And it’s nice to see that his riders are just as good-hearted as he is.”
“They’d better be,” Max said warningly, glancing at the young riders. “This event is going to take a lot of work to pull off. I’ll need lots of help planning and running it, especially since I didn’t realize when I volunteered that most of the younger riders here are going to be at their school party at the public elementary school. So you older kids are really going to have to pitch in and help.”
The Saddle Club exchanged glances. Each of them knew exactly what the others were thinking. Without a word, they all raised their hands.
“We’d be happy to help out, Max,” Stevie called. “We have some experience in this sort of thing, you know.” The year before, the three girls had spent Halloween with their friend Kate Devine at her family’s dude ranch out West. Mrs. Devine had asked them to come to help her plan a Halloween fair benefiting the local school’s American Indian program. The fair had been a huge success. The Saddle Club was sure they could do the same for this Halloween event.
“It’s settled, then,” Max said, nodding to The Saddle Club and the other Pony Clubbers who had raised their hands to volunteer. “Susan, you don’t have to worry about a thing. With this group in control, those kids will have more fun than they can handle!”
“Great,” Susan said with a smile. “That’s exactly what we’re trying to give them. Thanks a lot, everyone, and I’ll see you next weekend!” With a cheerful wave, she headed out of the ring.
After she had gone, Phil raised his hand. “Max, I know I’m not a member of Horse Wise, but I’d love to help out next weekend,” he said. “I even have an idea for something special I could do for the kids.”
Max looked surprised, but he shrugged agreeably. “The more the merrier,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”
“A Halloween magic show,” Phil replied. “I’m a pretty good amateur magician, if I do say so myself, and it would be nice to perform for someone other than my sisters.”
Stevie stared at him. She’d had no idea Phil could do magic tricks.
But Max looked pleased. “That’s a terrific idea,” he said. “We’re going to have to come up with enough activities to keep a dozen or so kids occupied all day, and that could be a challenge. A magic show should be a lot of fun. You’re hired, Phil.”
Suddenly a gruff voice spoke up. “Well now, if this is turning into some kind of community event, I think I’d better volunteer, too,” said Mr. Toll.
Everyone turned to look at him in surprise. With all the excitement over Susan’s visit, they had almost forgotten the old farmer was in the room.
“If these youngsters are going to have a real country Halloween, they’re going to have to go trick-or-treating,” Mr. Toll continued. “Might be fun for them to do it in a hay wagon—not so tiring that way.”
“What a great idea!” Stevie exclaimed. “The hayride you gave us on Carole’s birthday was so much fun—those city kids will love it!”
Mr. Toll just nodded, but the girls thought they could detect a twinkle of pleasure in his blue eyes. “It’s settled, then,” the farmer said gruffly. “Providin’ this blasted rain stops by then, that is.”
“Oh, it will,” Stevie predicted confidently. “It wouldn’t dare rain when we’ve got something so important to do.” She looked a little surprised when everyone burst into laughter. It was typical of Stevie to assume that even the weather would automatically go along with her plans.
“Okay, everyone, settle down,” Max said. “Let’s have a quick planning meeting for the event after Mr. Toll’s talk. Anyone who would like to volunteer to help next Saturday should stay.”
Mr. Toll took over and began telling the students about his experiences farming the same land for more than sixty years. Despite her interest in the topic, Carole found her mind wandering back to the Halloween event. She knew that with The Saddle Club on the case it was certain to be a fun day for the city kids. Carole was glad to be able to help with such a worthy cause. Although she had lived on or near military bases all over the country because of her father’s career in the Marine Corps, Carole had never lived in a big city. It was hard for her to imagine being somewhere where she wouldn’t be able to ride and be around horses. She knew that the children Susan’s group tried to help had a lot of very serious problems, and that not being able to ride was the least of them. Still, Carole was glad to think that horses might play a part in making the kids’ lives a little more fun. One of the best things about horses, in Carole’s opinion, was the way that just being around them seemed to help people in lots of different ways. Her mother had died when Carole was eleven years old, and riding was one of the things she could always count on to make her feel better. Horses and riding had also helped Carole and her friends many other times in many other ways.
Carole was brought back to reality by Lisa’s asking a question. “Mr. Toll, how many workhorses do you have now?”
The farmer scratched his head, thinking. “Let’s see, now,” he drawled. “There’s Dapper and Dan, my team of matched bay Clydesdales. Then I have another matched pair—no special breeding on them, just regular horses, but good, solid workers. They’re twin brother and sister, both blacks, named Superstition and Black Magic.”
“What a great idea!” Carole cried out. She blushed a little when everyone turned to look at her, but then she explained. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Toll. I was just thinking that a pair of black horses would be perfect for the Halloween event. Maybe they could pull the hay wagon.”
Mr. Toll scratched his head ag
ain. “I sure don’t see why not,” he said. “They ain’t as good-looking as the Clydesdales, but they’re just as strong.”
“It’s perfect, Carole,” Stevie agreed enthusiastically. “They’ve even got the perfect names for Halloween—Black Magic and Superstition.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Mr. Toll said. “Fact is, the names are a little bit of a joke. Back when that pair was born, there were some among the old country folk who thought I shouldn’t even keep ’em.”
Stevie and Lisa exchanged amused glances. In their opinion, Mr. Toll himself definitely qualified as one of the “old country folk.”
“Why’s that, Mr. Toll?” Carole asked.
“Because the both of them were born with four white feet,” Mr. Toll replied. Seeing the mystified looks on most of the students’ faces, he recited, “ ‘One white foot, buy him; two white feet, try him; three white feet, doubt him; four white feet—do without him!’ It’s an old superstition from the days when some folks still believed in black magic. That’s how I got the names—Superstition for the colt, Black Magic for the filly. ’Course they’re not colt and filly anymore—they’re going on twenty. But I still get a chuckle out of those names.”
The Saddle Club had a hard time imagining solid, serious Mr. Toll chuckling at anything. But they loved his story nonetheless, and they were sure the city kids would love it, too. They made him promise to tell it to them on Halloween.
“… AND I STILL can’t believe you never mentioned you could do magic,” Stevie exclaimed for the fifth time. She, Carole, and Lisa were keeping Phil company while he waited for his father to pick him up. All four of them were perched on the fence beside the driveway, discussing the Horse Wise meeting. The rain had finally stopped, and the girls had a few minutes before they had to get ready for their riding lesson.
“Forget it, Stevie,” Carole advised her friend. “We’ve got more important things to think about—like how we’re going to come up with enough costumes for twelve kids.”
Horse Magic Page 1