Shying at Trouble

by Bonnie Bryant

  Still, it’s just a few homework problems, she told herself, looking away from the algebra book. It’s not like blowing off studying for a test, or even a quiz. And the PSATs are important. I’ve got to do well, and I don’t have much time.

  Mostly satisfied with that logic, she turned her attention back to the vocabulary list. But she still had trouble concentrating. Her schoolwork was really starting to feel out of her control, and she didn’t like it. As much of a chore as it was, she was going to have to start buckling down and taking it more seriously. The best PSAT score in the world wasn’t going to help her if she flunked out of eleventh grade. Not to mention the fact that Max would banish her from Pine Hollow if her average slipped below a C. Wasn’t that why she’d done what she’d done two weeks before on that history test? She couldn’t go through anything like that again. She had to keep her grades up from now on.

  As soon as the PSATs are over, she told herself firmly, and the Colesford show, I’m going to start putting more time into my schoolwork. She nodded to herself, remembering one of her father’s favorite phrases: No ifs, ands, or buts about it!

  Stevie spotted Scott’s familiar face among the crowds in the hallway between fourth and fifth periods. She hurried to catch up to him, not realizing until too late that he was walking with Veronica diAngelo.

  “Oh,” Stevie said, stopping short in front of the pair. “Uh, hi.”

  Veronica didn’t bother to answer. She was hanging on Scott’s arm, that repulsively flirtatious smile of hers aimed directly at him. To Stevie’s disgust, Scott didn’t seem to mind. He was smiling good-naturedly as usual.

  “Hey, Stevie,” he said cheerfully. “What’s up? Ready for that lab report today in chem class?”

  “Huh?” Stevie said distractedly. “Oh, uh, sure. Whatever.” She glanced at Veronica, wishing she would go away so that she could talk to Scott in private. But that wasn’t likely, so Stevie plowed on. “But listen, Scott, I’ve been looking for you since homeroom. I wanted to talk to you about that open office for student council president. Um, I was thinking, you’re already so popular, and everyone seems to like you and everything, and, well, I bet you’re a whiz at making campaign-type speeches, and, well—”

  Scott cut her off with a raised hand and a grin. “As much as I’m loving this flattery, you can save your breath, Stevie,” he said. “You don’t have to convince me. I’ve already decided to run.”

  “Really?”

  Veronica smirked. “That’s right,” she told Stevie smugly, hugging Scott’s arm a bit more tightly. “We were just discussing it. I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

  Stevie ignored her. “But that’s great!” she exclaimed, grinning at Scott. “You’ll be a much better president than Trina was, and—”

  “Speaking of Trina,” Veronica interrupted, “did you hear what happened?”

  Stevie realized in surprise that Veronica was talking to her. “What?” She’d almost forgotten the reason the office was open. She’d been too busy imagining all the wonderful things Scott could do as president—with her help and friendly advice, of course. But now she realized that she still didn’t know why Trina’s family was moving so suddenly. “Oh, uh, I guess not,” she admitted. “Why? What happened?”

  “I was just telling Scott about it,” Veronica said with one of her superior little smirks. “I found out just a few minutes ago—hardly anyone knows the truth yet. I’m not even sure Miss Fenton knows the whole story.”

  Stevie gritted her teeth and did her best to be patient. “Yes?” she said.

  “I don’t know if you were aware of it, but Trina’s father is a really high-ranking congressional aide.” Veronica glanced up at Scott and winked, looking more self-satisfied than ever. “Or maybe I should say he was a congressional aide. It seems a reporter caught him last night taking part in some kind of major gambling ring. His boss didn’t want to deal with the scandal, so he fired him right away, and the whole family’s moving off to Kansas or Kentucky or somewhere in disgrace. I’m pretty sure it starts with a K. Anyway, they wouldn’t let Trina come to school today because they didn’t want the media to get hold of her.”

  As Veronica turned to greet a friend who was passing by, Stevie shot Scott a quick glance, surprised that with his family connections he wouldn’t have heard about something like that before the rest of them. Catching her look, he winked and smiled slightly. Stevie realized he probably had heard about it first—and yet he was letting Veronica take all the credit for breaking the story. Stevie shook her head in amazement. As far as she was concerned, that was taking tact a little too far.

  “Well, anyhow,” she said, trying not to let her annoyance show. “The important thing is that she’s gone. And like I said, you’re going to make a much better president than she ever did.”

  “I haven’t won the election yet,” Scott said mildly.

  Veronica poked him playfully in the shoulder. “Don’t be silly,” she said flirtatiously. “Who could possibly beat you? You’re a sure thing!”

  Scott shrugged. “I don’t know about that. But I know one thing that might help my chances.” He looked at Stevie seriously. “Would you be my campaign manager?”

  “Your what?” Stevie could hardly believe her ears. True, she’d been planning to offer Scott a little strategic advice if he wanted it—after all, she’d attended Fenton Hall since kindergarten. She knew what the place was like. But taking on the job officially? Helping plan and execute the entire campaign? That sounded even better! “Definitely,” she told Scott quickly, an eager smile spreading across her face. “I’d love to!”

  “Great.” Scott smiled back at her, looking pleased.

  But not half as pleased as Stevie felt when she noticed Veronica’s angry, envious scowl. What do you know? she thought happily. The campaign hasn’t even started yet, and I’m winning already!

  THIRTEEN

  “Go!” Carole exclaimed a bit irritably. “You know Max will freak if you’re late. So hurry!”

  “Okay, okay.” Juliet Phillips, a twelve-year-old intermediate rider, looked surprised at Carole’s tone. But she scurried toward the outdoor ring with her horse, Pinky, in tow.

  Carole blew out a long sigh, then pushed her hair off her face, feeling harried. The intermediate riding class was always a production—riders running late, unable to find their tack or their favorite hard hat or whatever. But today the students had seemed downright possessed. Rachel Hart had stumbled in the driveway and required soothing and some quick first aid; Sarah Anne Porter had practically gone into hysterics because she couldn’t ride Barq that day; Juliet had been certain that Pinky had a fever, even though Carole could find no signs of illness whatsoever in the sturdy quarter horse. Even May Grover, usually one of the more sensible middle-schoolers around the place, had needed help untangling her knotted reins.

  “Must be a full moon,” Carole muttered as she turned her mind toward her next task—today’s training session with Samson.

  Thinking about the big black horse made her feel better immediately. That day she planned to work on circles and turns, and she was really looking forward to challenging his suppleness and obedience. Glancing outside to see which of the various rings and paddocks were free, she saw Scott Forester’s sporty green car pulling into the driveway. Not wanting to spend valuable time chatting—she wanted to leave the stable at a reasonable time so that she could do some more studying for the PSATs that night—she hurried toward the tack room and grabbed Samson’s saddle and bridle. Then she took the long way around to his stall, avoiding the aisle where PC was stabled. She couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty about avoiding her friends that way, especially when she knew that Callie was kind of bummed out about Emily’s imminent departure. But Scott could talk the spots off an Appaloosa, and she just didn’t have time for it that day.

  Her detour took her past Starlight’s stall, and she paused to give her horse a quick pat. “Hey, boy,” she greeted the bay gelding, who had his head out over the
half door of his stall. “How’s it going? Did you enjoy your day out in the fresh air?”

  Starlight snorted and tossed his head, prancing a few steps sideways and almost running into the side wall. Carole frowned. Her horse seemed pretty frisky, despite the fact that she’d asked Denise to turn him out in the big meadow for the morning.

  “Settle down, boy,” she murmured anxiously as Starlight tossed his head again and pawed at the straw with one foreleg. He moved forward quickly and shoved insistently at her with his nose, leaving a trail of slobber down her arm.

  She absently wiped the worst of it off on her shirt, still eyeing the big bay with concern. There was no doubt about it. Starlight was feeling particularly restless and mettlesome that day.

  When was the last time I took him on a nice long ride? she wondered, thinking back. I guess it’s been quite a while. I’ve just been so busy.…

  But that was no excuse, and she knew it. One of the many responsibilities of horse ownership was making sure your horse got enough exercise, and Carole took that responsibility seriously. That was why she realized, with a sinking heart, that Starlight couldn’t get by any longer with quick longeing sessions and leisurely days in a paddock or field. He needed to be ridden, and he needed to be ridden today. Otherwise he would soon be totally unmanageable. She bit her lip, already feeling one more precious hour slipping away. There was no way she could put in a full session with Samson now and still get in all the studying she’d planned. She couldn’t possibly shirk on Samson’s training with the Colesford show so close; but she also couldn’t risk blowing the PSATs on Saturday.

  Shaking her head, wishing she’d thought to volunteer Starlight to one of the intermediates for the day’s class, she turned to race back to the tack room. She was thinking so hard that she almost ran smack into Lisa.

  “Heads up!” Lisa exclaimed, jumping back just in time.

  “Oh!” Carole had to scramble to avoid dropping Samson’s tack all over the dusty aisle floor. She was startled by Lisa’s sudden appearance, but she was almost as surprised simply to see Lisa at the stable. Carole hadn’t noticed it consciously before, but her friend hadn’t spent nearly as much time as usual at Pine Hollow lately. “Sorry about that. I guess I was—”

  “In a hurry, as always,” Lisa finished with a smile. “It’s okay. I guess that means you’re too busy for a trail ride today? I’m in the mood for a nice long ride.”

  “Sorry.” Carole shook her head. “PSATs are Saturday.”

  That was all she needed to say. Lisa took that sort of thing more seriously than anyone, and she would be the last person to discourage anyone else from studying. “No, I’m sorry,” Lisa said. “How could I forget about that? Alex has been studying like crazy for weeks.” She shrugged. “I’ll just go out by myself, okay? Consider this my notification. I’ll probably take the mountain trail.”

  Carole nodded. The younger riders at Pine Hollow weren’t allowed to ride alone on the miles of trails surrounding the stable, but high-schoolers and adults could go solo if they wanted to, as long as they notified a Pine Hollow staff member of their departure and planned route. That way, if they didn’t return, Max would know where to send a rescue party.

  Lisa took a few steps past Carole to pat Starlight, who had his neck craned toward them over the stall door. “Hey, fella,” she greeted the gelding affectionately. Then she returned her attention to Carole, still automatically stroking the horse’s neck as he snuffled at her pockets for treats. “So now that Prancer’s confined to the maternity ward for months and months, I guess it’s time for me to start getting reacquainted with some of the other horses. Who’s available today?”

  Carole shifted Samson’s saddle to her other arm. It was nice to be able to discuss Prancer’s condition openly. Max had finally announced the mare’s pregnancy in last Saturday’s Pony Club meeting, so the secret was out. “Let me think,” she said, running a mental list of Pine Hollow’s residents through her mind. “An intermediate class just started, so a lot of the usual suspects are tied up there—Eve, Diablo, Comanche, Checkers …”

  Lisa was already nodding. “I saw them in the ring outside,” she said. “What about Barq? He wasn’t out there.”

  “He threw a shoe this morning. The farrier’s coming by later. And Max doesn’t want anyone riding Firefly until he gets Judy here to look at that nick on her leg.”

  “What about Windsor or Congo?”

  “Not here. Mrs. Twitchett and some niece of hers took them out a few minutes ago.” Carole frowned slightly as she realized what this all meant. There wasn’t one appropriate school horse in the stable at the moment for Lisa to ride. Aside from Prancer, Samson, Barq, and Firefly, just about the only horses in their stalls were the resident stallion, Geronimo, and a handful of ponies. Plus the privately owned horses, of course, including Starlight.

  “Oh.” Lisa looked disappointed. “Well, I guess I should have called ahead. Too b—”

  “Wait!” Carole had just had a flash of inspiration. “I know. Why don’t you ride Starlight?”

  “Starlight?” Lisa looked surprised and a little confused as she glanced over her shoulder at the tall bay, who was still stretching his neck out, enjoying her pats. “Me ride Starlight?”

  “Why not?” Carole grinned, certain that she had hit on the perfect plan for all concerned. “He could use a good workout, but I’m really crunched for time today, so you’d be doing us both a favor. Plus you won’t even have to pay for the ride, since he’s my horse, not Max’s.”

  Lisa looked thoughtful. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on—”

  “Don’t worry about it for a second,” Carole interrupted. “Like I said, I’m crazed today. I have a million other things to do around here. And if I want to get home in time to study for my PSATs …”

  “Okay, okay.” Lisa finally looked convinced. “Thanks a lot, Carole. I really appreciate this.” She turned to Starlight again. “How about it, boy? Feel like a nice long trail ride?”

  Starlight snorted and tossed his head as if in reply, and Carole smiled. “I think that was a yes,” she joked, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. With Starlight taken care of, she could turn her attention back to Samson, where it belonged. “See you two later, okay?”

  An hour and a half later, Lisa gave Starlight one last pat. “Thanks for the ride, boy,” she told the horse fondly. “Hope you had as much fun as I did.” She picked up the gelding’s grooming bucket and stepped out of the stall, latching it firmly behind her. Then she hoisted Starlight’s tack from the wall where she’d left it and headed in the direction of the tack room. Dodging around a couple of stray riders hurrying toward the exit, she made her way across the entry area into the little hallway leading to the small, leather-scented room.

  She set the saddle on a cleaning rack and hung the bridle on a free hook. Stretching to loosen her arm and shoulder muscles after the long ride, she grabbed a clean cloth from the pile near the sink and dampened it. Setting to work on the familiar task of wiping down the bridle, she allowed her mind to wander. She was still a little surprised at Carole’s sudden generosity. Lisa had ridden Starlight on occasion in the past for one reason or another, but she’d rarely spent a leisurely afternoon on the trail with him. He was a wonderful, responsive horse and a pleasure to ride. She’d had such a good time with him that for a little while she’d even forgotten to worry about Prancer.

  But now that she was back, her worries had returned full force. How could her father’s wonderful, generous surprise gift be causing her so much consternation when she wasn’t even supposed to know about it yet? Lisa wasn’t sure. All she knew was that owning Prancer was going to make her life richer and more satisfying—and more difficult. After researching her college choices again that week, she’d come to the unsettling conclusion that a number of the schools she was most interested in were in places where keeping a horse nearby would be difficult and expensive, if not downrig
ht impossible.

  How can I drag Prancer away from Pine Hollow and stick her in some dreary stable in the middle of Chicago or Boston? she wondered, glancing out the tack room’s small windows at the idyllic rolling pastures and autumn-tinged trees beyond. How can I trust her with strangers while I’m busy figuring out how to handle college myself? How can I—

  “Hi, Lisa.” Callie’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Lisa looked up, startled. Realizing that her cleaning cloth, dry by now, was hanging idly in her hand, she smiled sheepishly. “Oops. Hi,” she said. “Um, you caught me in the middle of a thought.”

  “So I see.” Callie smiled back, moving carefully over the threshold on her crutches.

  As she returned to the sink to wet her cloth again, Lisa thought about how much better Callie looked now than she had when Lisa had returned from California in August. She moved much more easily on her crutches and could support much more of her weight on her bad leg. Lisa was sure that Emily’s careful attention during their months of therapeutic riding was at least part of the reason.

  “Did you just finish a session with Emily?” Lisa asked as she returned to Starlight’s bridle.