“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. Plus, I’m really angry that someone would do that to Belle. It couldn’t have been comfortable for her to have mud drying in her tail all night.”
“I know,” Lisa said soothingly.
“We don’t have proof that Veronica did it,” Carole reminded them.
Stevie’s eyes grew wide with sudden realization. “Yes we do! Remember what she said—that it wasn’t her fault Belle got mud in her tail? I didn’t tell anyone what happened except for the two of you! How would she know if she hadn’t done it herself?”
Lisa shook her head. “She might have looked into the stall in the morning and seen it,” she said.
“She woke up after us,” Stevie said. “Remember?”
“At least,” Carole said, “she gave the impression that she woke up after us. But I agree with you, Stevie. I think Veronica probably did it.”
“I’m going to kill her,” Stevie said.
“Not until after the competition is over,” Carole said. “Max means it—he’ll kick us out. Promise me, Stevie.”
Stevie looked at her friend’s solemn face. “Oh, I promise,” she said. “Don’t worry, Carole. I won’t get us eliminated for any other reason than Belle’s refusal to jump coops. Beating Veronica would still be the best revenge. But when we get back to Pine Hollow, look out!”
They had only an hour to get ready for their horse inspection and cross-country ride. They began by giving their horses a thorough grooming. Lisa had just stepped out of Prancer’s stall when she saw Phil, A.J., and Bart walk past with water buckets in their hands. Lisa latched Prancer’s door and went after them.
“Hey!” she said. “Wait up!” When they stopped and turned around, she smiled at them. Bart had the cutest eyes and a really nice nose, she decided. As soon as she thought that, she felt butterflies begin to hatch in her stomach.
“Hey,” she said again. She took a deep breath. This was so hard! She made herself look at Phil, since he seemed safest. “Our school’s having this great dance next Friday,” she said. “It’s going to be held outside, so we can invite anyone we want. Would you all like to come?” She gave Bart a quick smile. Carole was right, she thought gratefully, it was much easier to invite all of them than Bart alone.
“I’ll be there,” Phil said with a quick wink. Lisa grinned at him. She already knew he was coming.
“Hey, me too,” said A.J. “Sounds fun. What about you?” He gave Bart a poke.
Bart turned slightly pink and looked over at the stalls next to Lisa. “Um, maybe,” he said at last. “I might have to go visit my cousin that night. I’m not sure.”
Lisa tried to keep the smile firmly on her face until they were gone. It was all she could do not to show how hurt and embarrassed she was. Might have to visit his cousin! What a lame excuse! Bart might just as well have said he wasn’t interested in the dance or Lisa, either.
Carole came up to Lisa’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Lisa blew a deep breath. “This day just has to get better,” she said. “It can’t get a whole lot worse.”
“GOOD LUCK, BETSY!” Lisa called. Across the aisle Betsy, completely outfitted for her cross-country ride, led a gleaming Coconut out of the stall. Even though Lisa devoutly hoped that The Saddle Club would beat Betsy and Team Veronica, she really did wish Betsy well. Cross-country courses were nerve-racking. Lisa herself was dressed for her ride; she had just started to saddle Prancer.
“Thanks,” Betsy said a little nervously. “I wish we had a good-luck horseshoe here like we do at Pine Hollow.” She smiled at Lisa, and Lisa smiled back. She watched Betsy lead Coconut down the grassy slope beside the stables to where the formal inspections were taking place. Before being allowed to start cross-country, each rider and horse and their gear were thoroughly evaluated for safety, suitability, and cleanliness. Betsy looked great, and so had Meg, who was already riding the course.
Lisa wasn’t very worried about her inspection. It was something every careful rider should be able to pass with ease. At the same time, since all the competitors ought to be able to do well, if they got any penalties during inspection, they had reason to feel ashamed. Lisa vowed not to disgrace herself or Prancer. She settled her saddle over Prancer’s back, being especially careful to smooth out any folds in the pads.
“Lisa? How do we look?” Carole brought Starlight out into the aisle. She would ride first for The Saddle Club. Veronica would ride right after Carole, then Lisa two riders later, then Stevie.
“Fantastic!” Lisa said with true admiration. Starlight’s coat gleamed with the shine that could only come from regular grooming. His tack was in perfect condition. Carole looked as neat as her horse. “Only …” Lisa flicked a spot of mud from Carole’s boot.
“Thanks,” Carole said. “Can you look us over again once we get outside?”
“Of course,” Lisa said. She followed Starlight into the sunlight, then took a towel from Carole and carefully smoothed the dust from the horse’s flanks. “Professional,” she said to her friend.
“Carole Hanson and Starlight,” came a voice over the PA system. Lisa gave Carole a quick hug. She would have liked to stay and watch her friend get started on the course, but she knew her turn was coming up fast. She’d be in trouble if she wasn’t ready in time.
In the stables, Stevie had been about to follow Lisa and Carole outside when a horrendous shrieking stopped her in her tracks. “Help me, help me, help me!” the voice cried, each word louder and more anguished than before. It was coming from Team Veronica’s tack room, where Veronica was dressing alone, and from the pitch and volume of the shrieks it sounded as if Veronica was being killed.
Maybe a giant poisonous spider has bitten her right on the nose, Stevie thought with radiant hope. Or maybe a rat. Yes, Stevie definitely hoped it was a rat—a big, brown, ugly, obese, vicious one curled up in one of the toes of Veronica’s custom-made boots. It would serve her right.
“Help me!” Veronica cried again. Stevie sighed, dropped her grooming mitt into a bucket, and ducked under the curtain tacked across the doorway of the stall. Max would expect her to help. He would insist on it. Besides, if there really was a rat in Veronica’s boot, Stevie didn’t want to miss it.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Veronica was hopping up and down in the center of the room, tugging at something on the back of her neck. She was already wearing her boots, so it couldn’t be a rat. Stevie hoped for the spider instead.
“My hair’s caught!” Veronica moaned. “Oh, I’m in pain!” When Stevie tried to look, Veronica swatted her hand away. “You’re hurting me!”
“Quit jumping around!” Stevie said. “Here. Hold still.” The back of Veronica’s hair net and a few strands of her silky black hair had gotten tangled in the Velcro fastener at the back of her shirt collar. Stevie pulled it free.
“Ouch!” Veronica said. “You yanked my hair out.”
“Better than leaving you stuck,” Stevie retorted. She could hardly believe that even Veronica would make such a big fuss over such a little problem.
Veronica sniffed. “I just can’t believe Meg and Betsy would leave me here to get ready all by myself.”
“They’re riding,” Stevie said impatiently. What did Veronica expect? It occurred to Stevie that she hadn’t seen Veronica help either Meg or Betsy get ready.
“I asked Meg to polish my boots for me last night and she wouldn’t even do that,” Veronica complained. “I thought they were my friends. Danny and I are going to carry them through this entire competition, but they act like I’m still supposed to be working around here.”
“Too bad,” Stevie said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Think what a little work would do to your reputation.” She turned on her heel, then saw something that made her pause. “Veronica,” she said seriously, “have you noticed your bridle rack?”
“Of course,” Veronica said. “Daddy bought it for me in Italy. It’s handmade.”
“It’s falling,” Stevie said. “You’ve got it tied up here with a piece of old baling twine, and the twine’s about to break. And look—there’s a great big mud puddle underneath it.” The rack was hung on the outer wall of the stall, right above a low spot where rain had come in overnight. Danny’s bridle, breastplate, and martingale all hung from it.
“You need to put some shavings in that puddle,” Stevie told Veronica. “Then, if you can find some wire or some stronger rope, I’ll help you fix the rack.”
Veronica flicked an impatient hand at Stevie. “Go fix it yourself if you want everything perfect,” she said. “You’re as picky as Betsy and Meg. Now go away. I need to get ready.”
Stevie shut her lips very firmly and counted to ten as she walked out of the stall. She had promised Max she would behave. She had promised Carole she wouldn’t murder Veronica until they were back at Pine Hollow.
“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked, coming back to the tent.
“Just remind me when we get back home that there’s something I need to do,” Stevie said. “Where’s Carole? I hope she hasn’t left yet.”
“No—she’s in the inspection. I wanted to stay, but I’m only a few riders away. I just heard one of the inspectors ask Carole why Starlight is wearing a double-jointed bit and how she knows that it fits him correctly.”
Stevie grinned. “For Carole, those are easy questions.”
“Yeah,” Lisa said, “but not for me. This looks a little harder than I thought.”
“I want to say good-bye to Carole,” Stevie said. “Do you need any help right now?”
“No, go,” Lisa said. “Just wish me luck first. I’m two riders after Veronica, and she’s right after Carole.”
“I’ll stay and watch you start off, too,” Stevie promised. “Belle is practically ready, and there are five riders between me and you.”
“Hey,” Lisa said, remembering, “who was that calling for help a few minutes ago? Sounded like someone put a nail through her foot.”
Stevie shook her head. “It was just a rat.”
Outside, Carole saw Stevie approach out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head a little so that she could wink at her friend. Even though the inspectors were being a little more thorough than Carole had anticipated, they weren’t making her nervous. She knew everything there was to know about Starlight’s care, and she was proud of how beautiful and well-groomed he looked. Even the competition wasn’t scaring her now that she was this close to it. Win or lose, it would be another learning experience for her and Starlight.
Carole thought she heard a muffled scream coming from the stabling tent. She hoped it wasn’t Lisa.
“All right,” one of the inspectors said. “You’re clear.” She smiled at Carole. Another scream, louder this time, came from the stabling tent. Both inspectors paused and looked up the hill with concern. “Um, well,” the first said again to Carole, “you’re finished, but you’ll have to wait a few minutes before you can ride. The starter’s backed up. Mount and be ready, and he’ll call your name.”
“Thank you,” Carole said, at the same time as someone yelled, “My saddle! Ayyyyhi!” The last word sounded like a wolf howling.
“Well,” the first inspector said to the second, “if it’s a saddle problem, it probably isn’t a broken bone or a concussion. Who’s the next rider?” She picked up a microphone.
Carole moved Starlight to the side. Stevie gave her a leg up just as one of the inspectors called, “Veronica diAngelo,” over the loudspeaker. No one came out of the now silent stable tent. A full minute passed.
“Veronica diAngelo, please report to inspection,” the inspector called again, more firmly. “This is your second call.”
“Wow,” Carole whispered to Stevie. “Where do you think she is? Three calls and you’re out. She’ll be eliminated if she doesn’t get out here.”
“She was getting dressed,” Stevie whispered back. “Danny wasn’t tacked, but he was clean.” She looked back at the stable and then up at Carole and Starlight. “Don’t get distracted. Think about the course.”
Carole nodded toward the starting box. “I think I’ve got a little while to wait. Someone out there must be having a problem.” Usually the starters sent a new rider out every five minutes, but now two other riders, and Carole, were waiting their turns. If one of the riders on course had fallen off, or if a horse had gotten loose, the officials wouldn’t allow anyone else to start until the problem had been fixed.
The inspector was on the point of announcing Veronica’s name for the third and final time when a rider walked out of the tent. The inspector smiled and put down her microphone. “That’s not Veronica,” Stevie said. “That’s Lisa!”
Lisa’s face was pale and her eyes held an expression of horror mixed with the faintest touch of amusement. “Veronica will be right out,” she said politely. “She’s coming—she’s just had a little disaster.”
When Veronica appeared with Danny, it became clear that the word little in no way described the disaster that had befallen her. The near side of Veronica’s gorgeous saddle looked at first as though it had been dipped in chocolate—and then Carole realized that the chocolate was actually mud. Mud coated Danny’s bridle and breastplate, too, and was in the process of getting all over his once spotless gray coat. As Carole watched, horrified, a big splotch of gooey mud slid off one of Danny’s stirrup leathers and caught Veronica right on the thigh. It was obvious to Carole that Veronica had tried to wipe her tack off, but the mud was too pervasive. Cleanup would take hours.
Veronica herself looked just as wrecked. Her clothes were so filthy it looked as if she’d worn them for weeks. Her hair was coming out of its net, and her helmet was askew. She was wearing only one glove. “Why won’t anyone help me?” she screamed.
“I tried to help her,” Lisa whispered indignantly to Carole and Stevie. “She actually threatened me with her crop. She told me this was my fault—and I was in Prancer’s stall the whole time!”
“What happened?” Carole asked.
“I think when she took her saddle out of her trunk she tried to hang it on her bridle rack,” Lisa reported. “The rack collapsed, and the tack went everywhere—”
“Right into that big mud puddle,” Stevie finished. “I saw it,” she added in response to her friends’ questioning looks. “I even told Veronica she ought to fix it, and the bridle rack, too. It was an accident in progress, all right. But no, I didn’t cause any of it. I told you I’d wait until we got home.”
Carole and Lisa nodded, satisfied, then turned their attention back to the inspection area. The scene that was unfolding before them was awe-inspiring. Veronica had been so upset by the accident that she had gotten her girth twisted and put her breastplate on backward. When the inspectors pointed these major faults out to her, she flew into a rage.
“What do you mean, you’re going to have to penalize me?” she shouted in her haughtiest, most diAngelo voice. “You can’t penalize a person because of a little mud!”
“Riding with a twisted girth is a hazard to both the rider and the horse,” the second inspector said clearly. “Your saddle would have come loose while you were galloping, and the twist would have given your horse a gall.”
“So?” Veronica said. “I’ll fix it before I ride—you can’t penalize me for something I’ve fixed!” She grabbed the checklist out of the first inspector’s hands and read what was written there. “You can’t penalize me for dirt!” she continued, her voice rising to decibel levels it had never reached in her thirteen years of throwing tantrums. “I wasn’t dirty five minutes ago! My groom cleaned this tack three times last week! This isn’t my fault! How dare you give me penalties! Don’t you know who I am?”
“They do now,” Lisa whispered to her friends. “And I’m sure they’ll never forget.”
“She’s going for the All-Time Horse Inspection Penalty Recor
d,” Stevie whispered. “I bet she couldn’t get any more points if she threw up on the inspectors.”
Carole laughed despite herself. She put her hand over her mouth and tried to turn the laugh into a cough, but Veronica heard.
“You!” she said, pointing a dirty, ungloved finger up at Carole. “You and your two friends! You must have planned this. That’s who did it,” she said to the inspectors. “The Saddle Club—they’re behind everything. It’s their fault, not mine!”
One of the inspectors put out a hand to restrain Veronica. Carole rode Starlight a little way away, and Lisa and Stevie followed her. “I’m sorry she thinks that,” Carole said. “I might want to do something like that to Veronica, but I would never do that to Danny. Think how uncomfortable he must be.”
“And even I’ve never come up with such an effective plan for revenge,” Stevie said. She looked over at Veronica and the two inspectors, who were now fully engaged in an argument. The head of the rally was running toward them, and Stevie thought she saw Max detach himself from the gathering crowd. “This is Super Revenge,” Stevie said. “I hate to admit it, but this would have been beyond me. Danny has finally met his match. He’s been beaten by Veronica herself.”
CAROLE RODE WITH her seat just out of the saddle, her weight sinking evenly into her heels. She kept her hands steady against Starlight’s neck. He was galloping smoothly, confidently, with his head high and his eyes alert, watching for the next jump but not fearing it. Carole felt her heart leap. They were halfway through the cross-country course and Starlight had yet to put a foot wrong. Better still, his attitude was telling her that he was enjoying this ride as much as she was. They were on the same wavelength; they understood the same things. To Carole, there was no greater joy. All the blue ribbons in the world couldn’t beat feeling one with your horse.
The course curved. Carole turned Starlight by shifting her weight slightly in the saddle. She gathered her reins and steadied him for the approaching jump. It was a coop, the kind of jump Stevie was so afraid of. Carole bit her lip as Starlight sailed over it. She hoped Stevie would do okay. Then she thought of Stevie as she last saw her, standing near a hysterical, filthy Veronica. She bit her lip harder. It wasn’t very nice to laugh at Veronica’s predicament—but it was hard not to.
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