AS GOOD AS FINISHED
Carole grabbed Stevie’s arm and hustled her into their tack room before she could get another shot at Veronica. “Not a word,” she said. “Not to Veronica, Meg, or Betsy, for the rest of the weekend, from any of us. I was never so embarrassed, Stevie. Max shouldn’t have had to talk to us like that.”
Stevie hung her head. She sat down on their tack trunk and looked up at Carole. “I know,” she said. “But this is going to be an awful day. There are too many coops out there. Belle’s going to be eliminated, and then we won’t even get a team score.”
“She’ll be fine,” Lisa said, sitting down next to Stevie. “Remember how much she loves you. She’ll jump anything if she thinks she’s jumping it for you.”
“I just don’t have the guts,” Stevie said. “I look at those jumps and I think, Wow, that’s big, and as soon as I’ve thought that, I’m as good as finished.”
Other Skylark Books you will enjoy
Ask your bookseller for the books you have missed
THE WINNING STROKE (American Gold Swimmers #1)
by Sharon Dennis Wyeth
COMPETITION FEVER (American Gold Gymnasts #1)
by Gabrielle Charbonnet
THE GREAT DAD DISASTER by Betsy Haynes
THE GREAT MOM SWAP by Betsy Haynes
BREAKING THE ICE (Silver Blades #1) by Melissa Lowell
SAVE THE UNICORNS (Unicorn Club #1) by Francine Pascal
RL 5, 009–012
ROCKING HORSE
A Bantam Skylark Book / May 1998
Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent 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 “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of The United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1998 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: 978-0-307-82578-0
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 Kimberly Brubaker Bradley for her help
in the writing of this book.
Contents
Cover
Other Books You Will Enjoy
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
Chapter 13
About The Author
Excerpt from Horseflies
CAROLE HANSON STARTED counting out loud when the log jump was five strides away. It was something Max, her instructor, insisted on so that she could learn to ride in a rhythm to each jump. “Five, four, three, two, one!” she chanted. Blastoff! she thought as her bay gelding, Starlight, lifted them both into the air.
Starlight’s grace and power always gave her a thrill. As soon as he landed, Carole looked for their next jump, a low stone wall. She turned and counted off the strides, and Starlight jumped it, just as well as he had jumped the log pile. Just as well, in fact, as he’d jumped the entire course. Carole pulled him up and patted him, her face aglow. She loved riding outdoors over solid cross-country fences.
“Nice job!” Max said. “Next time, go a little deeper into the corner before the rolltop. On Saturday’s cross-country course you’ll have all the room you need, and you always want to try to give Starlight a straight line to the fences.”
Carole nodded. No matter how well she and Starlight did, they could always do better. It was one of the things she liked most about riding. Carole’s goals were to be one of the best riders in the world and to learn everything possible about horses and riding.
“Meg, same course,” Max said. Meg Durham asked Barq, the horse she was riding, to pick up a canter, and they started for the first fence. Max turned his attention to her. Carole rode over to her two best friends, Lisa Atwood and Stevie Lake, who were waiting their turns to jump at the side of the field.
“Fantastic!” Lisa said. “You guys were in perfect harmony—much better than Prancer and me on our first try.” She unconsciously stroked the neck of the mare she was riding, a lesson horse named Prancer. She longed for a horse of her own, but she loved Prancer very much. Harmony, however, was not always one of the strong points of their relationship. Lisa was studious and quiet; Prancer was flighty and skittish. Over the jumping course she’d bucked three times. If Prancer were a person, Lisa often thought, she’d be a three-year-old girl, prone to temper tantrums and fond of frilly dresses. Fortunately, Prancer was a horse.
“If you keep riding like that,” said Stevie, “and Lisa can hold Prancer together—you coped with her really well, Lisa, even though she did buck—and if there aren’t any coop jumps on the course on Saturday—”
“Don’t count your chickens,” Lisa advised, at the same time as Carole said, “You’re psyching yourself out of coop jumps. Stop it.” All three of them laughed. They understood each other very well—so well, in fact, that they had formed a club called The Saddle Club. Its only two rules were that members had to be horse-crazy and that they had to be willing to help one another out.
“Quiet over there,” Max ordered, looking toward the group. The girls instantly quieted. They loved Max, who ran Pine Hollow with a firm hand, and they knew perfectly well that they were not supposed to be talking during one of his lessons.
“But there’s so much to talk about!” Stevie whispered. Carole and Lisa nodded understandingly. It was finally spring, warm and pleasant. The horses had shed their winter coats and were full of spring vigor. That vigor would soon be put to good use: On Friday, they were all leaving for a weekend-long Regional Pony Club cross-country rally, where Stevie, Carole, and Lisa would compete as a team.
On course, Meg approached the final jump with Barq, who was another of Max’s lesson horses. Barq apparently didn’t like the look of the stone wall, because as Meg turned him toward it, he tried to keep turning and run past the jump. Meg corrected him quickly and pressed him forward. Barq jumped it a little awkwardly, but he did jump it—and in a cross-country competition that was all that counted.
“Nice job, Meg!” Carole called out, despite Max’s rule. She knew Max wouldn’t mind this time—and Meg had done well. Carole had ridden Barq quite a bit before she had gotten Starlight, and she knew he could be difficult sometimes.
“Yes,” Max said, with a half grin in Carole’s direction. “Very well done, Meg. Remember to keep your head about you like that on Saturday. Barq will jump anything if you’re confident enough about telling him to. Who’s next? Veronica, go ahead.”
“The same course, Max? Or sh
ould I try something a little more difficult?” A black-haired rider named Veronica diAngelo trotted toward Max. Her elegant gray Thoroughbred, Danny, curved his neck against the bit. “I do like Danny to feel he’s been slightly challenged.”
With difficulty, Stevie stifled a groan. She hated Veronica so much! It wasn’t just that Veronica was rich enough to buy the most expensive, perfect horse Stevie had ever seen, and the most expensive, elegant riding gear. It wasn’t just that she had a talent for making all the other riders feel shabby and insignificant. It was, Stevie decided, that she didn’t seem to care about anything except proving that she was the most important person around.
At Pine Hollow, all the riders were expected to help care for their horses and to do extra work around the stable. Veronica never lifted a well-manicured finger to help. Why Max tolerated her was something Stevie never fully understood. She didn’t think it was just because of Veronica’s money or her family’s social position. Lisa had once said that she thought Max wanted to reform Veronica—that he thought if he worked with her long enough, she might actually start to care about the horses she rode. Lisa thought that might take decades; Stevie was sure it would take much longer than that.
“Let’s stick with this course,” Max said rather sternly. “Remember, even Danny can’t be perfect unless you give him the chance. You’ve got to pay attention and ride him well.”
Veronica nodded, suddenly serious. She was a good rider—that was the worst of it. She was tough competition, and she, Meg, and Betsy would be one of the teams up against The Saddle Club this weekend.
“ ‘Even Danny’?” Stevie whispered angrily. “I can’t believe Max would phrase it like that! Danny’s not that good!” She patted her mare’s neck defensively. Belle was a mixed-breed horse, half Saddlebred and half Arabian. She was sweet and wonderful and Stevie loved her, but she never floated across the ground with anything like Danny’s well-bred grace.
“Yes, he is,” Carole said as Veronica and Danny took the first fence. “He’s the best horse I’ve seen since Southwood.” Southwood had gone to the Olympics.
Lisa agreed with Carole. Danny really was that good—and it was a rotten shame that he had a jerk like Veronica as an owner. Max and Red, Pine Hollow’s groom, made sure that Danny was always well cared for. But Lisa thought Danny should have been loved, too.
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Stevie said bitterly. “Veronica might finish at the top of every class, but her team won’t necessarily be unbeatable. They’re going to combine everyone’s scores, you know.”
“I know,” Carole said. “And winning isn’t everything. If we all do our best, I’ll be more than happy.”
“So will I,” Stevie said, “provided our best includes beating Veronica—and Phil. Just kidding,” she added hastily when her friends frowned. Phil Marsten, Stevie’s boyfriend, rode with another Pony Club. He and his friends A.J. and Bart would also be a team at the rally. Stevie could get very competitive, and in the past she had nearly broken up with Phil because of it.
“I’m kidding about Phil,” she said, “but not about Veronica. I want to blow her team off the map.”
“Fortunately,” Lisa said as she watched Veronica take the last fence just as well as she’d taken the first, “it’s not all jumping. It’s not even all riding.”
“No. And I think Miss Perfect might have a little trouble with the horse care and stable management,” said Stevie.
“We can only hope,” Carole added with a wry grin. She didn’t worry much about winning, it was true, as long as she and Starlight did their best and learned from the experience. But she did want to best Veronica. It always bothered her how little Veronica seemed to care about her horse.
“We’ll be great,” Stevie said emphatically. She wished she felt as sure as she sounded. Danny was so stupendous, and Stevie had had some trouble with Belle lately. They just couldn’t jump coop jumps.
“Betsy’s going to take Coconut,” Lisa reported. “I heard her ask Max if she could.” Like Prancer, Coconut was a lesson horse. Betsy rode well, and Lisa knew they weren’t going to be easy to beat. She just hoped Prancer didn’t act crazy at the rally.
“Quiet over there!” Max reminded them again. He spoke to Veronica about her ride, then sent Adam out on the course.
“And the week after the rally, there’s the dance!” Stevie whispered. “I can’t wait for that, either!”
“It’s not your dance,” Lisa whispered back teasingly. “What if you don’t get invited?” Willow Creek Junior High was hosting a big spring dance, outdoors, under a giant tent on the football field. Lisa and Carole both went to school there, but Stevie—and Veronica—went to Fenton Hall, a nearby private school.
“Of course I’m invited,” Stevie said a little indignantly. “Lisa, how could you forget? I’m your date, and Phil is Carole’s.”
Lisa laughed. “That’s right.” It was an open dance, which meant that the students could invite anyone they chose.
“After all, it’s not like we have other dates,” Carole said. “There isn’t any boy that I even half want to invite—right, Lisa?”
“Uh, right,” Lisa said. She adjusted the strap on her riding helmet to hide the fact that she was blushing a bit. In fact, there was a boy Lisa at least half wanted to invite—Phil’s friend Bart. He was very quiet, and Lisa didn’t know him that well, but she was quiet too so they probably would be a good match. Bart was tall and cute, and he certainly rode well. So far Lisa hadn’t had the guts to admit her feelings to her friends. They weren’t very strong feelings, after all.
But why not invite him? Lisa argued with herself. The worst he can do is say no.
And if he says no I’ll just die, she admitted. Plus, how could she ever get up the nerve to ask Bart when she couldn’t even talk about him to her two best friends?
“Stevie, come ahead,” Max said. Stevie clucked to Belle encouragingly and they started out. The first three fences went fine, but the fourth was a coop. Coops were double-paneled fences often used in hunt country to cover part of a wire fence and make it jumpable. To Stevie, jumping a coop was like jumping an A-frame house sideways: It looked huge. Stevie Lake didn’t like to admit she was afraid of anything, but coops really bothered her.
She knew Max’s coop was not even three feet tall, shorter than many of the jumps in his field. She knew Belle could jump any three-foot obstacle with ease. But as Stevie turned the corner to the coop, she felt her own muscles tense. She held her breath and tried to make herself urge Belle forward while at the same time bracing herself for Belle to stop.
Across the field, Carole groaned. “C’mon, Stevie,” she whispered. “You can do it.”
“She’s telling Belle to stop at the same time as she’s telling her to jump,” Lisa whispered. Stevie’s legs were saying go forward, but her seat, shoulders, and hands were all saying whoa.
“I know,” Carole said. “Guess which one Belle is going to pick?”
Sure enough, Belle slid to a halt right in front of the coop. “Stevie, that was your fault,” Max said sternly.
“I know,” Stevie said miserably. Belle wasn’t truly afraid of coops—yet. But if Stevie convinced her that they were a problem, Belle might have a phobia for life. “I’m sorry, darling,” she whispered to her horse.
“Come again,” Max said. “And mean it this time.”
“Right.” Stevie licked her lips and circled Belle toward the fence. She tried really hard to tell Belle to jump—but Belle stopped.
“Keep breathing,” Max said patiently. “Look over the jump. Don’t look at it. Just think about being on the other side.”
This time Carole and Lisa could see that Stevie approached the jump much more confidently. But Belle had gotten into the habit of stopping in front of it, and she stopped again. Stevie tapped Belle encouragingly with her crop and tried again. Belle stopped again.
“Oh no,” Lisa groaned. This was getting ugly. She felt so sorry for Stevie.
Suddenly
Prancer’s ears went flat as Veronica cantered Danny by without warning.
“We’ll just give you a little lead,” Veronica said in her most annoying syrupy voice. She clucked to Danny, who breezed past Belle and jumped the coop as effortlessly as though it were a pole laid on the ground.
“The nerve of her!” Carole grumbled. Veronica hadn’t asked Max if she could help—she’d just butted in, as always.
Stevie held Belle in place with trembling hands. “Show-off!” she spit. She circled Belle, drove her heels into her flanks, and launched her over the coop. Belle cleared it easily.
“That’s enough!” Max said. “Both of you know better. Veronica, when I want your help, I’ll ask for it. Stevie, you know better than to lose your temper during a lesson. Take it again.”
Stevie jumped the coop again, but already some of her bravado was gone. Belle started to refuse and then jumped at the last minute, tossing Stevie awkwardly back into the saddle. Stevie jumped the rest of the course with her mouth set in a straight line, and Carole and Lisa knew she wasn’t over her problem with coops. Veronica had more likely been a hindrance than a help—which was probably, Lisa realized, exactly her intention.
When Stevie finished jumping, Max gave them all a lecture. “You know I expect the proper Pony Club spirit from all my riders, whether in lessons or in competition,” he said. “That spirit includes cooperation, respect, and good sportsmanship. I’d better see it in action this weekend.”
“Yes, Max,” they chorused.
“As long as Miss Goody Two-shoes can be a good sport about losing,” Stevie muttered. From the look on Max’s face, she knew he had heard her. She didn’t care.
“ ‘THREE STABLE SHEETS,’ ” Carole read from the list of equipment in her hand. It was Friday afternoon, and she, Lisa, and Stevie were making final preparations for the Pony Club rally.
“Check,” Lisa said, putting the folded sheets into Carole’s tack trunk. The Pony Club ran its events under very strict rules, and at rallies every team had to bring all its own equipment. If a team was found to be missing something important—a horse first aid kit, for example—it would be given penalty points.
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