When she saw Stevie she shook her head. “I’m going to have to give you some penalty points for that,” she said.
Stevie’s jaw dropped. “But it rained all night, and I’m fixing it right now! I’m working as quickly as I can!”
The woman shook her head and pointed to Belle’s tail with her pencil. “I mean that, not the stall.”
Stevie looked. Belle’s tail, which only the night before had been a black, shining, tangle-free flow of hair, now hung in a stiff, dirty, matted clump. “Belle!” Stevie said in astonishment. She put her hand on Belle’s hip and gently picked up her tail. What had Belle done? Turned out to pasture, horses sometimes got burrs or weeds matted into their tails, but Belle had been safe inside all night. Stevie’s fingers pried the clump apart. The middle was mud—pure, filthy, dried mud. And Belle’s floor, although damp, had been covered with shavings. There wasn’t any mud in sight.
Stevie looked over the door of Belle’s stall. Veronica was coming out of her tack room, makeup kit in hand. She hurried down the aisle without meeting Stevie’s eyes.
Veronica! I might have known! Stevie’s first thought was to see how Veronica liked getting mud in her hair. Her second thought was to tell the show officials, but she knew she had no proof. A mud ball was the sort of thing that could happen if Belle was turned out and not groomed regularly. The fact that Stevie would never allow it to happen was something else Stevie knew she couldn’t prove.
Stevie called Lisa and Carole into the stall. “Look what just cost us some points,” she said grimly.
“Stevie!” Lisa was appalled. “How could that happen?”
“I think I know.” Stevie gestured to the stalls across the aisle.
“Meg and Betsy would never—” Carole began.
“No,” Stevie said. “They wouldn’t.”
Lisa and Carole didn’t say anything. They all knew that Veronica would stoop to dirty tricks—even to cheating—to show up The Saddle Club.
“With a horse like Danny, she still thinks she has to do something like this! Poor Belle!” Carole stroked the mare’s nose. “We can’t prove it, though, can we? I never saw Veronica—or anyone else—go into Belle’s stall.”
“Me either,” Lisa said. “I guess it’s sort of a compliment: She thinks we’re going to be so hard to beat that she has to sabotage our chances.”
“Yeah, right,” Stevie snorted. She fetched a comb from her grooming box and started to work the mud out of Belle’s tail. “I feel complimented, all right. And I’ll tell you what, I’m not leaving for breakfast until Veronica does. I’m not giving her another chance.”
“We’ll all keep an eye on her,” Carole promised. “For now, Lisa and I will finish up out here. When you’re done with Belle we’ll go to breakfast.”
Carole made sure that the other stalls were in good order. Lisa offered to straighten the tack room. When Stevie finished, she and Carole went into the tack room, where they discovered that Lisa had changed into a clean sweatshirt. She’d brushed her hair into a neat ponytail and tied a ribbon around it, and she was using a small hand mirror to apply lip gloss.
“Whoa!” Carole said. “Lisa, they’re not inspecting us until right before we ride.”
“Yeah,” added Stevie, “and I don’t think they give extra credit for lip gloss.”
Lisa half hid the mirror behind her back. She blushed and looked at the ground. “I just didn’t feel like looking so grubby,” she said.
“Who would notice?” Stevie said, indicating her own dirt-stained sweatshirt. Then she understood. “Ah,” she said. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Who might notice? More to the point, who were you hoping would notice?”
Lisa blushed deeper red. She turned and stowed her lip gloss and mirror into her duffel bag, then firmly zipped the bag. Carole took another step inside the tack stall and pulled the curtain across the doorway. “Lisa,” she said gently; “you can tell us anything.”
Lisa grinned. “I know, it’s just a little embarrassing. But lately I’ve noticed—I mean, don’t you think Phil’s friend Bart is kind of cute?”
Carole had never really thought about Bart one way or another, but she was instantly supportive. “He seems like a nice guy. He’s quiet, but he’s great around horses.”
Lisa nodded. She knew that was about the highest compliment Carole could give another person.
“So …,” Stevie said.
“So I was thinking about asking him to the dance,” Lisa confessed in a rush. “I don’t know him that well, but I’d like to know him better, and that would be a good chance. And it would be fun. And—I’d like to, that’s all. But I’ve hardly got the nerve to say that to you guys. I don’t know how I’ll ever actually say anything to Bart. I was hoping that looking nice would help me feel more confident.”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Carole said. “Look, why don’t the three of us make a point of inviting the three of them? That way it won’t be so embarrassing, and you’ll still get to spend time with him at the dance and get to know him better.”
“Phil’s already coming,” Stevie protested. “He knows all about it.”
“Well, of course,” Carole retorted. “That makes it even easier. Phil’s coming, so A.J. and Bart will want to, too.”
“That would be super,” Lisa said. “Thank you. I don’t know why this sort of thing is so hard.”
“We’ll make it easier,” Stevie said. “The Saddle Club always sticks together.”
“You bet,” said Carole.
LISA SIGHED. “GUESS I got all dressed up for nothing.” Her friends laughed. Even though Lisa looked better than they did, she hardly looked “all dressed up.”
“I wouldn’t say for nothing,” Stevie teased. “Carole and I certainly appreciated your efforts.”
Lisa grinned. “Good. At least I know you’ll go to the dance with me.”
“But of course,” said Stevie.
Lisa knew she shouldn’t feel so tense. What was one little dance, after all? But she was disappointed that she hadn’t seen Bart, or Phil, or A.J. at breakfast. Breakfast was served buffet style, whenever the Pony Clubbers were ready for it. The boys must have eaten early; they weren’t anywhere in sight.
“I’ll bet Mr. Baker had them do their course walk early,” Stevie guessed. “Phil said he was going to be one of the first on the course this morning.” At real combined training competitions, dressage usually went before cross-country, but at this rally, they were all doing cross-country first. Dressage would be held in late afternoon, and show jumping on Sunday morning. In addition, all the competitors had to take a written test on horse care after the show jumping.
Lisa scuffed her feet through the wet grass. “I wish I were riding earlier. All this rain is going to make the ground in front of the fences muddy, and it’s just going to get worse throughout the day.”
“Unless the sun comes out,” Carole said. “The rain’s stopped, anyway. That’s something.”
Lisa shook her head, and Carole looked at her sympathetically. Mud bothered Prancer; she didn’t like to get her feet dirty.
“Maybe Max will have some suggestions,” Carole said. The riders had a few hours to walk the course on foot with their instructors, who could give them suggestions on how to ride it with their horses. The course walk was the only time all weekend that they were allowed adult assistance. Carole vowed to learn as much as possible during it. Starlight would be counting on her.
“Too bad we have to share Max with Team Veronica,” Stevie muttered. “She’ll probably spend her time making mud balls. It’s not as if she’ll be listening to Max.”
The Saddle Club ducked into the stabling tent to check on their horses, then joined Max, who was standing just outside with Team Veronica.
“No new sabotage,” Stevie reported to Lisa in an undertone. “But Belle’s tail still looks awful. It’s going to take me days to get it really clean.”
Veronica had a map in her hand and was showing it to Max. “See?” she
said in a sweet voice. “This is our official course. It says exactly which jumps we should take. There are a lot of jumps on this property, so we’ll have to be careful.”
Max folded the map and put it in his pocket. “Thank you. That’ll be helpful.” He rubbed his hands and looked at the six riders. “Ready to go?” They started walking across the wet field.
“Like we need a map,” Stevie whispered. “The fences are numbered, and the ones for our course have green flags.” She gave Veronica a venomous look and said more loudly, “My, Veronica, your hair looks lovely today. However do you keep it so clean?”
Veronica flipped her hair back and gave Stevie a wide smile. “Regular salon treatment does help, of course. But you might see a difference if you simply used shampoo.”
Stevie started to say more, but Carole gave her a swift poke. They had reached the first fence, a simple log jump. The first fences on cross-country courses were usually straightforward to encourage the horses to go on. Max didn’t have much to say about this fence, except to remind them all to establish an even pace early. Lisa stomped around the approach to the jump. The ground there was already very soft. The hooves from the first few horses would chum it into mud.
“Oh no,” Stevie groaned. The second jump was less than a hundred yards after the first—and it was a coop. Stevie had expected coop jumps, but she had hoped not to have any until at least the middle of the course, when Belle would be fully warmed up.
Carole frowned. The approach to the coop was tricky; the course curved in front of it to avoid some large trees, and woods started just after the fence, so that the horses would feel as if they were jumping into the woods. She would have to ride a careful line and give Starlight plenty of encouragement.
“It’s going to be very important that we not overshoot the turn, isn’t it, Max?” Veronica asked. “I mean, if we don’t straighten the horses out after we go around the trees, they might keep turning and run past the side of the fence, the way Barq tried to with Meg during our last lesson.”
Max smiled. “That’s exactly right. All of you should find something to aim at—a tree or fence post—so that you know you’ve got your horse steered correctly. Run-outs will be common here.”
“Just what I need,” Stevie said. “A coop that encourages the horse not to jump.” She climbed on top of the sturdy fence. “It’s a chicken coop!” she said. “It turns the horses into chickens!”
“Stevie, get down from there,” Max said sternly. “Quit fooling around.”
“Just seeing if the jump looks any better from up here,” Stevie said. “It doesn’t.”
“It’s not a very high jump,” Veronica said, measuring it against her leg. “I can’t imagine any horse having trouble clearing it.”
“Right,” Max said. “It’s only two feet, six inches. Our coop at home is higher.”
Max gave Veronica another approving smile. Carole guessed that he was glad to see Veronica act like a person who actually knew about, and cared about, the course she would be riding. Carole could think of two reasons for Veronica’s sudden good-rider attitude. One, Veronica’s first horse, a beautiful Thoroughbred name Cobalt, had died after a cross-country accident caused by Veronica’s jumping him carelessly. Cobalt’s death had been the one thing that had really seemed to sink into Veronica’s salon-groomed head; afterward, she always tried her best to ride well cross-country.
But two, Carole thought, Veronica was sucking up. Danny was so good that Veronica could ride the course blindfolded and they would do well. She didn’t have to worry about setting Danny up for the jumps. He was almost guaranteed to do well. Veronica just wanted to look good compared to The Saddle Club.
And she did. Carole was so preoccupied with the landing side of the coop that she walked right into Max. “Sorry,” she said.
“That’s all right,” Max said. “The trail forks here, as you see. Which side do we take?”
Carole looked at the trails in confusion. Shouldn’t there be a sign? “I don’t know,” she said.
“Well”—Max pulled Veronica’s map out of his pocket with a flourish—“this is where a little preparation comes in handy.”
Carole blushed. She was preparing right now—she was walking the course. And she would have figured out which trail to take long before she had started out with Starlight.
“It’s the left-hand fork,” Meg piped up. “Veronica showed me.”
“What else has she showed you today?” Stevie asked. “Any handy ways of causing opposing teams to be penalized?”
Meg frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Lisa understood—mud. The approach to the coop had absorbed her attention, but as soon as she thought the word mud, she was back to worrying about the footing. She didn’t notice the quelling look Max gave Stevie.
They continued on the course. Stevie felt so worried she was almost petrified. Even jumps that weren’t actually coops were starting to look like coops to her. The fourth jump was a bank—basically, a small hill that the horses jumped onto instead of over. What is a bank, Stevie thought wildly, but half a coop covered with grass? “Veronica, you won’t have any trouble here,” she called out gaily to mask her rising anxiety. “You know all about banks.” Stevie thought that was pretty funny, given that Veronica’s dad was a banker, but no one else laughed. Even Carole looked at her strangely.
Veronica started to climb to the top of the bank. “Hey, Max!” Stevie cried. “Now Veronica’s climbing on the jumps!”
Veronica shot her a cold look. “I’m just checking to see how the footing is up here,” she explained to Max. “After all, the horses land on top of this. Betsy, don’t you think you’d better check? Coconut’s so funny about soft footing.”
“Good thinking, Veronica,” Max praised her. “And it’s smart of you to consider your teammates’ horses as well as your own.”
Carole shook her head ruefully. Veronica had made a good point. Why hadn’t she thought of it? Carole remembered reading about a competition that had installed a new bank and hadn’t given the top of it time to settle. The first horse on course had sunk up to its elbows.
Lisa, suddenly concerned with how Prancer would handle the footing, climbed up on the bank, too. Meg offered her a hand. To Lisa’s relief, the top of the bank was solid and well-drained, nearly dry. Stevie made some other rude comment to Veronica, and in the back of her mind Lisa thought Stevie was starting to get out of hand. The front of her mind, however, was still occupied with the course. She didn’t say anything to her friend.
At the water complex, a gently flowing stream with a few low jumps on either side, Stevie asked Veronica if she didn’t feel like taking a swim. “Might wash the mud off your hands,” she said.
Veronica looked up, and for a moment Carole thought she saw total comprehension in Veronica’s eyes. But the other girl just answered innocently, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stevie Lake, but you’re starting to get on my nerves.”
“And mine!” boomed Max. “Really, Stevie, if you’d spend half as much time studying the course as you do making jokes, you wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Veronica’s planned for this competition, and she’s been a help to everyone. Furthermore, her conduct, unlike yours, has shown real Pony Club spirit.”
Stevie, her face burning red, was silent. She was embarrassed to have Max yell at her, but beyond that, she was so furious she couldn’t speak for a moment. Max nodded at her, then began walking toward the next jump. “It’s spirit, all right,” she whispered. “Creating all the trouble you can for other teams, that’s real spirit—real Veronica spirit.”
“What are you talking about?” Meg asked again.
“Don’t pay her any attention,” Veronica said, lifting her nose into the air. “It wasn’t my fault Belle got mud in her tail,” she said to Stevie. “Maybe you ought to spend a little less time assigning blame to other people and a little more time taking care of your poor horse.”
“My poor horse! What a
bout you, who always lets everyone else take care of Danny?” Stevie was so upset she leaned right into Veronica’s face. Veronica stepped backward to the edge of the stream.
“Really!” Carole added, rushing to Stevie’s defense. “You didn’t even know how to wrap Danny’s legs—or else you were too lazy to do it.”
“I ought to push you right into the stream! How’d you like a bath?” Stevie said.
“Stevie!” Max roared. “Carole! Veronica! All of you girls, I am ashamed!”
Stevie dropped her arms to her sides. Carole went still. Only Veronica continued to speak. “I don’t know what they’re talking about,” she told Max.
“Unfortunately,” Max said, “I do. But that’s irrelevant to the current situation. Hear this, all of you: Any rider who says anything—I mean anything—during the rest of this walk not directly connected to this course and how it should be ridden will be expelled from this event and suspended from Horse Wise. Don’t test me to see if I mean it. I don’t want to hear a single word until we get back to the stabling area and you six are on your own again. Understood?”
“Yes, Max,” they all mumbled. Lisa had never seen him so furious. Max didn’t often lose his temper, but when he did, it took him a while to find it again. They were all very quiet for the rest of the course walk. Even when the last jump turned out to be another coop, Stevie only patted it sadly and said nothing.
Back at the stalls, 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 her 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.”
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