Riding to Win

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Riding to Win Page 3

by Bonnie Bryant


  Alex barked out a short, humorless laugh. “That’s pretty funny, coming from the queen of impulsiveness.”

  “We’re not talking about me here,” Stevie replied. She tossed her dust rag at him, feeling a little guilty for ruining his mood. Still, it was something he needed to hear. And who else was going to level with him? “I’ve got to go. If Mom and Dad get home before I do, tell them I’m at Pine Hollow.”

  Alex didn’t respond. Stevie grabbed the car keys off the coffee table where he’d dropped them and hurried out of the room, leaving him sitting on the sofa with a thoughtful frown on his face.

  “There you go, buddy.” Callie Forester patted the black-and-white pinto fondly. “All clean again.”

  She had just finished grooming Patch, a gentle Pine Hollow school horse, after their therapeutic riding session. Callie appreciated having a reliable horse like Patch to work with, but she had to admit that she was getting a little bored with riding the unflappable pinto around and around the indoor ring. Still, she hadn’t become a top-notch endurance rider by being impatient. She knew that the endless repetition of simple exercises was necessary if she wanted her leg to regain its full strength. But lately she had been itching for something a little more challenging, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from slipping into daydreams of tossing a saddle on one of Max’s more spirited horses—Samson or Diablo or maybe the feisty young mare Firefly—and galloping off across the fields without looking back.

  “Patience,” she whispered to herself, giving Patch one last scratch under the jawbone. “Don’t make time the enemy.” That was something her old endurance trainer back home had taught her. And she didn’t plan to forget the lesson, especially now, when she was so close to getting what she’d worked for all these months. She adjusted her crutches under her arms and leaned over to unlatch the stall door.

  Callie was letting herself out into the aisle when she spotted a small figure wandering slowly toward her. Maxi Regnery’s usually cheerful face was downcast, and even the little girl’s pigtails looked less jaunty than usual.

  “Hey, Maxi,” Callie called. “What’s the matter?”

  Maxi glanced up. “Hi, Callie,” she said gloomily. “Are you busy, too?”

  Callie wasn’t sure what the little girl meant by that. She didn’t have much experience with young children. Her only sibling was her older brother, Scott, and she’d never had much time for baby-sitting because of her training schedule. “Um, I’m not that busy,” she said cautiously. “Why?”

  Maxi shrugged. “Everybody else is busy,” she explained. “Too busy for me. Mommy has a deadline. Everybody else is busy working, too. Daddy and Red and Denise and Carole and Lisa.” She ticked off each name on her small fingers, looking more dejected with each one. “And I really, really, really, really wanted to go riding.” She sighed and blinked sadly at Callie. “Otherwise I’ll probably forget everything Daddy taught me in my riding lessons.”

  “I doubt that will happen,” Callie said, trying to sound cheerful and upbeat. “You’re a terrific rider already, Maxi. You won’t forget.”

  Maxi shrugged. “I might.” She sighed noisily. “Anyway, there’s nobody around to talk to me. Even Mini’s taking a nap.”

  Callie couldn’t help grimacing slightly at Maxi’s younger sister’s nickname. Three-year-old Jeanne Regnery had been called Mini practically since birth by just about everyone, despite her parents’ best efforts to prevent the nickname from sticking. Fortunately, Mini herself didn’t seem to mind.

  “I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” Callie told Maxi. “In fact, I have a great idea. I don’t have to be anywhere in particular this afternoon. Why don’t I check with your dad and see if it’s okay for me to take you for a ride?”

  Maxi’s face lit up. “Really?” she cried.

  “Really.” Callie grinned at the little girl’s obvious excitement. “Why don’t you go get Krona’s tack and wait for me at his stall? I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Thanks, Callie!” Maxi raced away in the direction of the tack room.

  Fifteen minutes later, Maxi was leading her shaggy little half-Icelandic pony out of his stall. Max had okayed the riding lesson as soon as Callie had found him, seeming relieved that his daughter would be entertained. Callie had also checked in with Carole, who was helping Ben bring down hay. Knowing that her crutches could get in the way if any serious problems cropped up, she’d asked Carole to stay within shouting distance just in case.

  Then, after a quick call to Scott, who was supposed to pick her up, Callie had hurried to help Maxi tack up. “You’re really learning fast,” she told the little girl as Maxi stepped confidently down the aisle with the pony following obediently at her shoulder. “Before long you’ll be riding in horse shows just like—”

  “Callie!” a breathless voice interrupted.

  Callie looked up quickly, recognizing the voice. “George,” she said, carefully keeping her voice neutral. “Hi.”

  George Wheeler hurried down the aisle toward her, a grin on his moon-shaped, slightly flushed face. “How’s it going?” he asked her, ignoring Maxi, who had stopped Krona at Callie’s side, looking annoyed at the interruption.

  “Okay,” Callie said blandly. She had been feeling a little awkward around George all week. He was one of the best riders she’d ever known—so good that he and his horse, Joyride, were part of the select team going to the Colesford Horse Show the next weekend. But he was just as awkward and dumpy on the ground as he was graceful and confident in the saddle. Callie had tried to look past that when he’d asked her out recently. She had agreed to attend a school dance with him, but the evening hadn’t gone very well, and Callie had ended up telling George a few days ago that she just wanted to be friends.

  “So, did you finish those chemistry problems we were supposed to do this weekend?” George asked. “If you had any trouble with them, I could go over them with you.”

  “That’s okay,” Callie said. “I actually was going to do them tonight. But thanks anyway.”

  “Sure,” George said eagerly. “If you want, I could call you later and see if you need any help, or—”

  Maxi cleared her throat loudly, interrupting him. “It’s probably not good for Krona to stand around in the aisle like this,” she announced.

  George blinked. Brushing his baby-fine blond hair off his forehead, he finally seemed to notice the little girl staring at him impatiently. “Oh, hey, Maxi,” he said cheerfully. “Didn’t see you there. So Callie’s taking you for a ride, huh?”

  “She was,” Maxi said bluntly.

  George raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Uh-oh,” he joked, winking at Callie. “Guess that’s a hint, huh? I’d better let you two get to it.”

  Callie returned his smile weakly, relieved to have such an easy excuse to escape. “Guess so,” she said. “See you later, George.”

  “Bye.” George stepped aside to let them pass, but Callie could practically feel his eyes on her back as she and Maxi walked down the aisle on either side of the pony.

  Callie carefully kept her eyes on Maxi and Krona until she was sure they were all out of George’s sight. Most of her conversations with him lately left her with a weird, unsettled feeling. George was being so friendly and cheerful whenever he saw her, it was almost as if their whole uncomfortable, awkward dating fiasco had never happened. What’s that about? she wondered, not for the first time. Does it mean he wasn’t really that into me after all? Maybe he’s happier just being friends, too.

  She managed to forget about George as she and Maxi entered the indoor ring. Like everything else in life, she figured that their relationship would settle itself, given enough time. Until then there wasn’t much point in thinking about it.

  For the next half hour, she and Maxi had a very pleasant time. Callie found that she enjoyed playing teacher, sharing with the eager little girl some of what she’d learned about riding over the years. And Maxi was a fast learner—despite her young age, she seemed to instantl
y absorb every tip or tidbit that Callie shared.

  Callie was watching Krona trot slowly around the ring, Maxi posting up and down smoothly and evenly in the pony’s saddle, when Deborah appeared in the doorway. Her three-year-old daughter was hovering shyly at her heels. Unlike her extroverted older sister, Mini Regnery was rather quiet and shy; she seemed especially intimidated by the sheer size of the horses in the stable.

  “Mommy!” Maxi cried when she spotted them, waving wildly from Krona’s saddle. “Mini! Look at me! Callie taught me how to keep my hands still when I post.”

  “Let’s stop for a minute,” Callie told Maxi. She gathered her crutches and swung toward Deborah with a tentative smile. “I was just giving Maxi a little riding practice,” she said. “I hope that’s okay with you. Max said it would be all right.”

  “Of course.” Deborah smiled back at her. “I’m so grateful that you’ve been keeping her out of Max’s hair. He’s so busy with this horse show, and I’m crazed with a deadline.… Let’s just say we can use all the volunteer baby-sitters we can get right now.” She winked at Callie, then called to Maxi. “Come on, sweets. It’s time for you to come up to the house and help me get dinner started.”

  “Are you sure, Mommy?” Maxi replied, looking disappointed. “Because I’m not even hungry yet.”

  “I’m hungry,” Mini piped up.

  Deborah smiled at the younger girl and ruffled her soft blond hair. “Me too,” she said. “Come on, Maxi. Time to let Callie go, okay? Hop down from there and I’ll help you put your pony away.”

  “Oh, okay. But Mommy, Callie’s been teaching me everything!” Maxi climbed down from Krona’s saddle and rushed over to her mother, leaving the well-mannered pony ground-tied. “She knows everything!”

  “Is that right?” Deborah bent down to give her daughter a hug, shooting Callie a bemused smile over the little girl’s head. “I’ll have to keep that in mind next time I need to research an article.”

  Callie laughed. “Sorry. The only thing I know about is riding,” she said. “And Max is much more of an expert on that than I am.”

  “Callie, Callie, can we go riding again sometime?” Maxi begged. She grabbed Callie’s arm and yanked on it eagerly, almost unbalancing her. “Pretty please?”

  “Well, when you put it that way, how can I say no?” Callie smiled as she gently pulled her arm free and shifted her crutches to regain her balance.

  Deborah grabbed Maxi and pulled her to her side. She gave Callie a searching glance. “Are you sure you have time for that, Callie? I know you’re pretty busy with school and your therapeutic riding and everything. I’m sure Maxi will understand if you don’t have time this week.”

  “It’s no problem. Really,” Callie assured her. “I’d love to do this again soon.” She leaned over to meet the little girl’s eye. “How about Wednesday afternoon? Want to get together then?”

  Maxi looked slightly disappointed. “But that’s …” She paused to count on her fingers. “Um, four days away?”

  “Three days away,” Deborah corrected gently. “Today’s Sunday. Then there’s Monday, Tuesday, and then Wednesday. Three days.”

  “Three days away,” Maxi said, unfazed by the correction. “That’s so long!”

  “Sorry.” Callie smiled as it occurred to her that she and Maxi weren’t so different in some ways, despite the gap in their ages. Maxi was as impatient to go riding again as Callie was to walk without her crutches. Patience was a tough sell at any age. “I have to go see my doctor tomorrow,” she explained. “And then Tuesday my family is going to Washington to visit some friends. But I’ll have plenty of free time on Wednesday. We can go for a nice long ride then, okay? Maybe if it’s not raining, we can ride Patch and Krona around in the back paddock. We could meet around four o’clock. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds perfect,” Deborah said gratefully. “Maxi, why don’t you go put your pony back in his stall now? I’ll come and help you with the tack in a second.”

  “Okay.” Maxi went over to retrieve Krona, leading him out of the ring and chattering to him all the while about how much fun they were going to have on Wednesday with Callie.

  Callie smiled as the little girl disappeared around the corner of the doorway. “She’s really adorable,” she told Deborah. “I haven’t spent much time with little kids before, but we really had fun today.”

  “I can tell. It looks like she’s pretty smitten with you,” Deborah said with a chuckle. “And I have to tell you, I really do appreciate your offering to spend more time with her. That killer deadline I mentioned is going to keep me busy all week. Jeannie’s happy playing quietly with her toys while I work, but that one …” She gestured in the direction Maxi had gone with a fond smile. “She’s just like her father. Never content unless she’s here at the stable messing around with the horses. Usually Max doesn’t mind having her tag along, but he’s so frantic this week getting ready for that horse show …” She grinned sheepishly. “Well, as I started to say before, basically any time we can con someone else into looking after Maxi for a little while is a godsend.”

  “I’m glad I can help,” Callie said with a smile.

  Three

  Lisa hummed softly as she opened the oven and peeked inside. The warm scent of the baking potatoes mingled with that of the roasted chicken cooling on the counter nearby, making Lisa’s stomach grumble. It was Monday evening, and Mrs. Atwood was due home any minute from her shift at the clothing store where she worked as an assistant manager. Lisa wanted everything to be ready. She was looking forward to finally telling her mother about her college decision.

  She’s going to be just as thrilled as Alex was, if not more, Lisa thought happily, closing the oven door and hurrying to the refrigerator to see if the iced tea she’d made was chilled yet. Pouring herself a glass, she perched on the edge of a chair at the kitchen table, which was neatly set with two places.

  She sipped her iced tea, feeling herself relax. It had been surprisingly satisfying to spend the afternoon cooking for the two of them again. From the time her father had walked out until Mrs. Atwood had started seeing Rafe, Lisa had been forced to take on a lot of the household duties, cooking and cleaning and taking care of both of them because her mother had been too sunk in her own bitterness to handle the responsibility. Lisa didn’t miss those days—her mother’s return to something like normal life was the one reason she was grateful to Rafe—but it was still nice to do something for the two of them once in a while.

  “Mmm!” Her mother’s voice rang out from the front hall, interrupting her thoughts. “Lisa? Something smells wonderful!”

  “Thanks,” Lisa called back. “I told you I’d make something special for tonight, didn’t I?” She hopped up and hurried toward the doorway with a smile on her face.

  But she stopped short when she saw the tall, languid but good-looking young man with longish curly dark hair who was following her mother.

  “Yo,” Rafe said with a lazy grin. “Let me guess. We’re having chicken, right?”

  Lisa frowned. “But what—” she began before she could stop herself. Then she swallowed the impolite question—“What are you doing here?”—knowing it would only annoy her mother. “Um, Mom told me you were busy tonight. With your adviser or something.”

  Rafe shrugged, his grin never faltering. “You know how it is,” he said. “College life. People are always changing their plans. You just gotta go with the flow.”

  Lisa wasn’t sure that explained anything, but she didn’t really care why Rafe wasn’t with his adviser. The only thing that concerned her was that he was here, now, ruining her special evening with her mother. “I didn’t know you were coming,” she said with barely concealed ill grace. “I don’t know if there’s enough food for three.”

  “Don’t be silly, sweetie,” Mrs. Atwood said. “I’m sure there’s plenty. And anyway, I’m not that hungry. Rafe took me out to lunch today, and I ate so much I thought I would burst.”

  “You
did not.” Rafe reached over and pinched Mrs. Atwood’s stomach. “You ate like a bird, like always.”

  “Rafe!” Mrs. Atwood squealed, batting his hand away. “That tickles.”

  Rafe grabbed her by the waist and started tickling her in earnest. “Oh yeah? How about this?”

  Lisa averted her eyes as her mother shrieked and laughed at the same time, hardly even trying to push him away. It was unbearable to watch her mother and Rafe giggle and hang on each other all the time like a couple of teenagers. Worse that that, actually, she thought grimly. My friends and I are teenagers, and we all have enough class not to grope each other in public.

  “I’d better go take the potatoes out of the oven,” she said, turning back toward the kitchen. “And set another place,” she added pointedly.

  Her mother and Rafe didn’t respond, and Lisa didn’t bother glancing back to see if they’d even heard her. She headed for the oven, feeling peevish. She had planned this evening so carefully—why did Rafe have to barge in and ruin everything? There was no way Lisa could share her news with her mother now. Not in front of him.

  When her mother and Rafe entered the kitchen, they were both smiling and slightly flushed. Lisa did her best to act normal as she carried another plate and glass over to the butcher-block kitchen table. She had purposely set their places there instead of at the larger, more formal cherry table in the dining room, wanting it to be a casual, intimate meal. Now she wished she could switch the dinner into the dining room, where she could put more distance between herself and Rafe. But it didn’t seem worth the effort.

  “Everything’s just about ready,” she told her mother. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll bring the food over to the table.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.” Her mother patted her on the cheek and then took a seat beside Rafe, who was already sprawled in his chair. “By the way, what’s the occasion? I forgot to ask yesterday. You said this would be a very special dinner.”

 

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