Riding to Win

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Okay,” Rachel said, still looking a little embarrassed about being caught. “Thanks. I just really felt like I needed to come here and hang out with him for a while. It’s been kind of weird around here lately, you know?”

  “I know.” Even though she was glad that Starlight was still hers, Carole felt sorry for the younger girl. Not only had Rachel been disappointed in her dream to buy Starlight, but she was probably really sad about Prancer’s death, too. For the past year, she had been one of the mare’s most regular riders after Lisa.

  “By the way,” Rachel said shyly, “congratulations on your ribbon yesterday. You were really great. And, um, sorry about the other stuff.”

  Carole didn’t have to ask which “other stuff” Rachel meant. She was sure that the news of her grounding was all over the stable by now.

  “Thanks,” she told Rachel, shifting her gaze to her horse so that the younger girl wouldn’t see the pain in her eyes. As she watched Starlight lower his head to snuffle curiously at Rachel’s shoulder, Carole suddenly had an idea. “Hey, listen,” she said. “Are you going to be around for the holidays? You know, Thanksgiving and Christmas? Will you be in Willow Creek, or does your family go away somewhere?”

  Rachel shrugged. “I guess we’ll be here. All my relatives are coming down to our house this year for Thanksgiving—it’s my mom’s turn to cook. And we don’t usually go anyplace for Christmas.”

  “Great,” Carole said. “Then how would you feel about taking care of Starlight for me while I’m, um, away? You could ride him for your lessons, and that way your folks won’t have to pay for you to ride one of Max’s horses. In exchange, you could make sure he gets enough exercise, keep up with his tack and grooming—you know, the works. What do you say?”

  Rachel’s eyes lit up. “Really?” she said. “I’d love that! Are you sure you want me to do it?”

  “Trust me, you’ll be doing me a favor,” Carole assured her, relieved that Rachel seemed so excited about the idea. Knowing that Starlight had an enthusiastic, responsible young caretaker would make Carole worry a little less about him during her grounding. “So do we have a deal?”

  “Definitely!” Rachel stuck out her hand.

  Carole smiled and shook it firmly. “Good. You can start right away if you want. I’ll clear everything with Max before I leave here today.”

  “Cool!” Rachel patted Starlight on the neck, looking thrilled. “This is the perfect way to prove to my parents that I’m ready for my own horse.” She glanced at Carole shyly. “I mean, even if you’re not planning to sell Starlight anymore, um…”

  Carole took that to mean that Rachel already knew all about Samson’s departure, too. Pine Hollow wasn’t a big place, and any piece of juicy gossip tended to spread like a barn fire. Carole blushed slightly as she thought about Ben. At least that was one thing the younger riders weren’t buzzing about. She hadn’t told a soul about the kiss yet, not even her best friends. And Ben wasn’t exactly the type to spill his guts about anything to anyone. “I understand,” she told Rachel, who still looked a little anxious. “It will show your parents that you can handle the responsibility.”

  Rachel looked relieved. “Right. So is there anything special I should know?”

  “Not too much,” Carole said. “Starlight’s a pretty easy keeper. Normal grain ration, no grooming issues. But he’s due for new shoes in a couple of weeks, so you’ll have to remember to get him on the farrier’s schedule. And if you don’t keep after him about his half-halts, he gets lazy about it quick, so don’t let him get away with being sloppy even once. And I was sort of planning to focus on ground training for the next couple of weeks, but if you want to work on jumping…”

  Rachel didn’t interrupt as Carole reeled off everything else she could think of. At the end, the younger girl just nodded. “Thanks, Carole,” she said. “I won’t let you down. I’ll take good care of him for you, I swear.”

  Carole smiled wanly. “I know you will,” she said. “And I’m the one who should be thanking you. I’ll go tell Max about our arrangement in a minute, okay? Right now I just want to, um, you know, say good-bye. You know.”

  Rachel nodded and slipped out of the stall, leaving Carole alone with Starlight. Carole turned and looked at her horse, automatically moving her hands up to rub his face as he nosed at her. The sight of the big six-pointed star splashed on his mahogany face was so familiar that it was almost painful. She found it hard to believe that she had almost sent him away forever. At least that hadn’t actually happened. At least that was one thing that had gone her way lately.

  “And at least now I won’t have to worry about you while I’m away, boy,” she said softly, resting her head against the horse’s warm, solid neck. “That’s one thing I can be thankful for.”

  THREE

  Stevie had her head buried in the refrigerator, searching for a snack, when she heard the back door slam and then felt someone poke her in the side. “Yo,” a familiar voice said. “Leave some food in there for the rest of us, okay?”

  Stevie turned and rolled her eyes at her twin brother, Alex. “Look who’s talking, Oink-Boy,” she said. “With the way you scarf down everything in sight, it’s practically a miracle the rest of us get anything to eat at all.” She was only half kidding. Alex had shot up almost a foot in the past year and a half, and he was still just as thin and wiry as ever, despite the fact that he ate enough to feed a small nation, as their mother liked to put it—or that he ate like a horse and a half, as Stevie was more likely to say.

  Alex ignored her insult. “So did you get Lisa to the stable today?” he asked.

  Stevie nodded, turning serious. She liked to give all three of her brothers a hard time whenever the mood struck her, but she rarely teased Alex about his relationship with Lisa. It had been a big surprise to Stevie when her twin and her best friend had fallen for each other. She had adjusted to the idea since then—she loved them both and thought it was wonderful that they had found happiness with each other—though at odd moments she still found herself amazed that their romance actually worked when they were so fundamentally different in so many ways. She supposed that was an example of opposites attracting.

  “She came along,” Stevie replied, leaning back into the refrigerator long enough to pluck out a plastic container of leftover chicken. “Actually, I left her there. She wanted to be alone.”

  Alex pursed his lips somberly. He had only taken up riding after he’d started dating Lisa, so he didn’t have quite the same attachment to the horses at Pine Hollow as Lisa, Carole, and she did. But he knew that Prancer had been very important to Lisa, and that meant he was concerned about his girlfriend now. “Do you think she’s going to be okay?”

  “Sure. We just have to give her some time.” Stevie sat down at the kitchen table and peeled the lid off the container. “I mean, she got through her parents’ divorce, right? She’ll get through this.”

  Alex nodded. He sat down across the table from Stevie and leaned his chin on one hand. “I guess you’re right,” he agreed. “I only wish there was more I could do to help her. Or at least that I could be there—you know, as in actually there—for her more.” He sighed noisily. “Being grounded really bites, you know?”

  “I know. I’ve practically forgotten what Phil looks like.” Stevie had spent most of the previous day at the horse show with her boyfriend, but she chose to ignore that fact in light of the much longer time they’d been separated by her grounding. It wasn’t easy—they had been together for a long time, and Stevie really missed seeing Phil whenever she wanted, kissing him whenever the mood struck her.… “Besides that,” she added, “he’s been dealing with this A.J. situation pretty much on his own.”

  Reaching for a piece of chicken, Alex glanced at Stevie, his hazel eyes reflecting curiosity and concern. “Yeah,” he said. “I was just wondering what was up with A.J. lately. I meant to ask Phil yesterday, but the scene at the show was so crazy I totally forgot. What’s the latest?”

&
nbsp; Stevie frowned as she thought about the answer to that question. A.J. McDonnell had been Phil’s best friend for as long as Stevie had known him. For most of that time A.J. had been a friendly, happy-go-lucky guy with a quick sense of humor and boundless enthusiasm for fun. But a couple of months earlier he had suddenly started acting like a completely different person—sometimes sullen and withdrawn, sometimes manic and edgy, always unpredictable. Even after his friends learned that A.J. had discovered that he was adopted and that his parents had withheld the fact from him, Stevie still had trouble believing that a person could change so drastically overnight.

  “Phil says he doesn’t seem to be dealing any better,” Stevie said, watching her brother stuff most of a chicken wing into his mouth. “Did Lisa tell you how she ran into him at that college bar?”

  Alex chewed and swallowed, then nodded. “She said he was chugging beers in a big way.”

  “And that was just a few days after Phil caught him spiking his soda with vodka,” Stevie reminded him. She drummed her fingers on the table. “I hate to sound like an Afterschool Special here, but it’s really starting to sound like A.J.’s got a problem.”

  “I think you’re right,” Alex agreed. “I mean, at first I thought he was just acting out—you know, sort of trying to get back at his parents for never telling him he was adopted.” He leaned back and tossed the bones from his chicken wing into the trash can by the back door. “But it’s getting way out of control.”

  “I know,” Stevie said. “The question is, what do we do about it?”

  Alex licked grease off his fingers and shrugged. “Who knows? I guess we should have watched more of those Afterschool Specials.”

  Stevie was about to reply when the back door swung open and their father walked in. Seeing the two of them at the table, he hurried toward them. “Hi,” he said briskly. “Listen, I just came from your mother’s office. The lawyer who was supposed to host this month’s partners’ meeting just came down with bronchitis, and your mom’s boss volunteered us to take his place.” He rubbed his forehead, looking harried. “So we’re going to have a whole houseful of lawyers here on Wednesday night, and somehow between now and then we have to figure out what to feed them. Can you two help us out by making yourselves scarce that day?”

  Stevie feigned shock. “You mean leave the house—while we’re grounded?” she said with a loud gasp. “But—But—I don’t understand!”

  “Very funny, Stevie.” Mr. Lake rolled his eyes. “We’ll be having an early dinner here, then heading out to a lecture over at the community college. So you can plan to be back home around six-thirty or thereabouts to start your homework and chores. Now, do you think you can manage that or not?”

  “We can manage, Dad.” Alex spoke up quickly, before Stevie could say another word. “We can manage just fine. Thanks.”

  Mr. Lake nodded. “Naturally, we’d appreciate any help you could give us in the next two and a half days to whip the house into shape.”

  “Naturally,” Stevie said. “We’re on it.”

  “Thanks.” Mr. Lake glanced at his watch, then headed out toward the living room.

  When he was gone, Alex grinned. “Hey, how about that? We were just talking about wanting more time with Lisa and Phil. And here it is, just dropped in our laps. What are the odds?”

  Stevie shot her twin a sidelong glance as she jumped to her feet. “I don’t know. Probably about the same as the odds of you beating me to the phone right now.”

  The office door was open when Carole got there, so she knocked softly on the frame. “Hi, Max,” she said. “Do you have a minute?”

  Max looked up from some paperwork. “Sure, Carole. Come on in.” Dropping his pen, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “Actually, I could use your help if you’re not too busy with other work. I just started updating the boarding records, and I think you’re the only person around this place who can decipher Denise’s handwriting.” He chuckled wryly. “I don’t think Denise herself can understand it half the time.”

  Carole forced a smile. Denise McCaskill was Max’s daytime stable manager. Her brisk, energetic personality carried over into her handwriting, which was often so hurried that it was barely legible. Carole and everyone else at the stable had teased Denise for years about her jagged scrawl.

  But at the moment, Max’s words only reminded Carole of what she was there to do. She was there to confess something sordid and bad and humiliating to one of the people she respected most in the world. One of the people who, until today, she’d been sure respected her a lot, too.

  She glanced around the stable office. As usual, it was in a state of controlled chaos. One of the file drawers was open, and Carole could see the names of Pine Hollow’s boarders and their owners typed on the top tab of each hanging file—Belle, S. Lake; Country Doctor, A. Barry; Joyride, G. Wheeler; Pinky, J. Phillips; Romeo, P. Giacomin; Starlight, C. Hanson … Averting her eyes quickly from her own name, Carole took in the cluttered desktop. A hoof gauge was holding down a stack of invoices from the feed company, and nearby, a bridle with a broken buckle awaited repair. Books on horsemanship and equine health overflowed the shelves that lined the walls, and the door leading to the tack room was propped open with a large plastic tub of antibacterial ointment. Carole couldn’t see the lost-and-found box under the desk or her spare pair of stable shoes in the employees’ closet, but she knew they were there. It was all so familiar and comforting that she didn’t know how she was going to stand being away.

  Taking a deep breath, she plunged right in. “I don’t really know how to say this,” she said, her voice already starting to shake a little. Clearing her throat, she went on, avoiding Max’s direct, questioning gaze. “Um, I have something to—to confess. Something pretty horrible.”

  Max put his arms on the desk and leaned forward. “Yes?”

  “It’s nothing to do with the stable,” Carole said hastily. She reached up and twisted a strand of curly black hair around her finger, an old nervous habit. “It happened at school. I—I sort of cheated. On a test.”

  “Sort of?” Max repeated.

  Carole bit her lip. “Not sort of,” she said in a tiny voice. She could feel her face growing hot. “I did. I cheated. It was stupid and wrong, and I regretted it the second I did it. But I was afraid if I didn’t do it, my grades would slip, and I wouldn’t be allowed to ride here anymore.” One of Max’s strictest stable rules was that all school-age riders had to maintain at least a C average.

  “I see.” Max’s voice was solemn. “Is that all you have to say?”

  “Not exactly.” Carole felt awful. “Um, see, the reason I’m telling you this now is that Dad just found out about it—yesterday at the horse show.”

  “I see,” Max said again.

  Carole gulped. “He was really mad—he is really mad. He—He—He …” She paused and swallowed hard, trying to stop her voice from shaking. “He grounded me. Until New Year’s. I’m not allowed to ride here anymore, and I can’t take care of Starlight myself—but don’t worry, Rachel already said she’d do it if it’s okay with you, and that way he’ll get plenty of exercise while I’m away. Oh. And also, I—I have to quit my job.”

  Max was silent for a long, long moment. Finally he coughed. “I see,” he said once more. “Well, I won’t say I’m not shocked by this, Carole. But I appreciate your honesty. And I can certainly understand your father’s position.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Carole said in a tiny voice. “I know this means there’s going to be more work for everyone else around here. I’ve totally messed up.”

  Max rubbed his chin. “I’m sure we can make do for a little while now that the horse show is over,” he said. “And I was thinking about taking on another full-time hand after the holidays anyway. This way, I’ll just need to find someone a little sooner. Then, after New Year’s…”

  Carole could hardly believe her ears. Glancing up cautiously, she saw that Max looked thoughtful but not angry. “You—You me
an I can have my job back when my grounding is over?”

  “Of course.” Max looked surprised that she had even asked. “You’re one of my hardest workers, Carole. Sometimes I wonder how I used to run this place before you signed on.”

  Carole couldn’t help blushing slightly, but she also smiled. Max’s kind words were the first bit of good news she’d had all day. The stable owner could be stern with his students or his employees anytime he thought they weren’t doing their best. But Max clearly sensed that Carole already felt as awful as she could possibly feel about what she’d done. And he wasn’t going to do anything to make her feel worse.

  He was being so nice that Carole almost worked up the nerve to ask when Samson was leaving. Almost. But Max still didn’t know that she had dreamed of buying the big black gelding herself, and she was afraid that her face or her voice would give her away. And she couldn’t stand that. She couldn’t face Max’s pity on top of everything else. Instead, she brought up her agreement with Rachel again and they discussed the details briefly.

  When that last bit of business was out of the way, Carole stood up, reluctant to leave the office. “Well—thanks,” she said awkwardly. “Um, just so you know, I spoke to the farrier on Friday about Comanche’s shoes, and he’s going to call back when he knows his schedule for the week. And I never got around to fixing the latch on the schooling ring gate before the show, so I guess someone else will have to do that. And the feed—”

  “It’s all right, Carole,” Max said gently. “Go. We’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about us.”

  Carole nodded, her throat suddenly tight, as if she might cry. Blinking hard, she turned away and walked toward the office door. This was it. It was time to go. Leaving the stable at the end of the day had never been easy for her—there was always one more horse to look in on, one more chore to do.