Stevie had made her usual sympathetic noises, but that hadn’t appeared to comfort Phil very much.
“This just isn’t like him.” His voice had been subdued and puzzled, as it always seemed to be lately when discussing this particular topic. “I tried to call him this morning before I left for the game, and his mom said he’d left the house hours ago. She had no idea where he was.” He’d paused and let out a noisy sigh. “He’s like a totally different person, Stevie. You haven’t seen him since that day at the creek. You wouldn’t recognize him now.”
“He’s just upset about what happened with Julianna,” Stevie had said for about the hundredth time since this whole thing had started.
“I just don’t get it,” Phil had replied. “I mean, okay, if she’d dumped him I could maybe understand it. But he broke up with her. And she claims she has no idea why. She’s just as mystified as the rest of us—and upset, too. She thought things were going great between them. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“It’ll be okay. You’ll see.” Stevie’s words had sounded a little lame, even to her. But she didn’t know what else to say. They would just have to wait for A.J. to come around. And he would come around, sooner or later—Stevie was sure of it. In fact, at this point she really wasn’t sure there was anything Phil should be getting so worked up about. Secretly she couldn’t help wondering if maybe he wasn’t exaggerating A.J.’s behavior just a teeny bit. It had to hurt when your best friend didn’t feel like discussing his life with you—Stevie had encountered the same kind of feeling herself. But it would work itself out eventually. These things always did.
Suddenly Stevie popped out of her reverie as she became aware that someone was calling her name. She had almost forgotten where she was. Now she realized that her teacher was staring at her.
“Stevie Lake,” Ms. Rourke said again.
“Sorry!” Stevie sputtered. “Um, present?”
The class tittered. Stevie felt her face grow pink.
“Sorry,” she said again, sounding as sincere as she knew how. “I—I was just thinking about what you were telling us before. You know, about the periodic table?”
Ms. Rourke pushed her red-tinted glasses farther up her nose and glared at her. “All right,” the teacher said in her high, quavery voice. “Since you’re so fascinated by the periodic table, I’m sure you’ll truly enjoy this lab. Now, would you please go join Sue at lab table number four?”
Stevie smiled sheepishly as she realized that several of the other students had moved out of their seats and gone to the lab area at the back of the room. I guess I must have been more out of it than usual, she thought, sliding out of her chair and hurrying to the back of the room. She gave Sue Berry, who was already perched on one of the stools at table number four, a quick smile. Sue, a smart, quiet girl who had transferred to Fenton Hall a couple of years earlier, smiled back shyly. Stevie hopped onto the stool on Sue’s right.
Meanwhile, Ms. Rourke was consulting the list in her hand. “All right,” she said dryly. “Now that Stevie is with us again, let’s continue. The third member of lab group number four”—she pushed her glasses up again and squinted—“is Scott Forester. Scott, will you take your place at table number four, please?”
“Sure thing,” Scott replied equably, pushing himself out of his seat and loping toward the lab area. His usual expression of amiable friendliness was intact, but Stevie noticed that he didn’t quite look at her as he took his seat on the stool to Sue’s left.
Stevie felt her heart sink. Of all the rotten luck! As if it weren’t hard enough going to the same school as Scott and being in the same class, now they were actually expected to be lab partners?
“… and Dad won by a landslide, so here we are! I miss Valley Vista, of course, but the people here in Willow Creek are so friendly and nice we haven’t had any trouble at all feeling right at home. And Dad loves the short commute to Congress.”
Stevie rolled her eyes and did her best to hold back a disgusted snort. Scott had been talking Sue’s ear off ever since Ms. Rourke had finished assigning the lab groups and left the students alone while she went to fetch something from the supply closet down the hall.
“Don’t you have a sister who goes here, too?” Sue asked Scott timidly. She seemed a little awed by him, and Stevie couldn’t really blame her. Scott could talk the stripes off a zebra if he really tried. “I think she’s in my English class. Cassie?”
“Callie,” Scott replied with a dazzling smile that made the correction seem like a compliment. “She’s a junior. I’m actually a senior, but contrary to popular belief, I’m not here because I flunked out of chemistry at my old school.”
His easy laugh made Stevie cringe. What am I, invisible? she thought irritably. Scott is chatting away with Sue as if they were alone at this table.
“Callie’s really terrific,” Scott went on, leaning a little closer to Sue as if he were about to divulge some intriguing secret. “Back home, she won all kinds of awards for her horseback riding. Do you ride, Sue?”
“No,” Sue said. She glanced over at Stevie. “Stevie does, though. Don’t you, Stevie?”
Stevie stiffened as Scott glanced at her. The only thing worse than being ignored by him was facing his cold, unwavering gaze. “Uh-huh,” she managed to say.
Scott nodded. “Right.” Then he returned his attention to Sue. “But anyway, I’ve just been blabbing on and on about myself. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” He gave another of his charming, totally unself-conscious laughs. “After all, if we’re going to be lab partners, we ought to get to know each other.”
Stevie sighed and slumped on her stool. This was shaping up to be a very painful semester.
Carole picked at a peeling spot of paint on the fence of the schooling ring as she watched Ben ride Firefly in a tight circle. The young dapple gray mare shook her head impatiently as Ben turned her in the opposite direction and walked her toward the far end of the ring.
As usual, Carole found herself admiring Ben’s confident, well-balanced seat and the way he handled the horse. It sometimes seemed to her as if the young stable hand spoke to horses in their own language. How else could she explain the way they responded to him? Well, most of them, anyway, Carole thought as Firefly arched her neck, shook her head again, and did her best to whirl away from the path Ben wanted her to follow. Firefly was new to Pine Hollow, and her training was still in its early stages. Spirited and high-strung, she required a lot of patience from her trainers.
Unfortunately, Carole wasn’t feeling especially patient at that moment. She had been planning to school Samson over a jump course that she had worked out in her head during her last three classes. It hadn’t been until she had arrived at Pine Hollow and found Ben waiting for her in the tack room that she remembered: They had made plans for a long training session with Firefly. Samson would have to wait.
Carole sighed and flicked one more speck of paint off the rail in front of her as Ben brought Firefly to a halt. They were facing away from Carole, but she could tell by the horse’s flicking ears that Ben was talking softly to her. After a moment, he asked her to walk again. This time Firefly responded immediately. But when he tried to bring her around the end of the ring at a trot, she broke into a choppy canter and then danced off to the side, snorting loudly.
Ben spoke to her firmly, then managed to steer her toward the spot where Carole was watching. “She’s really feeling her oats today,” Ben said, sounding a little breathless.
“I can tell.” Carole watched the mare. Carole was having trouble concentrating on Firefly, but she knew she had a responsibility to Max. He had asked her to help train this horse, too, and Carole took that responsibility seriously. She ran her eyes over the frisky young mare, trying to figure out what to do. “It looks like you’re having trouble keeping her attention. Do you think she’s not getting enough exercise?”
Ben shrugged. “I think she’s just flighty and easily distracted,” he said. “I wonder
if working her alongside another horse would help steady her. Why don’t you go tack up Starlight and we’ll give it a try?”
“I’ve got an even better idea!” Carole said quickly. “I was planning to put Samson over some low jumps like these later anyway. Why don’t I go get him now?”
Ben looked dubious. “Samson?”
“Sure.” Carole smiled. “It’ll be fun.”
“Samson isn’t all that much older than Firefly,” Ben pointed out, frowning slightly.
“Don’t worry.” Carole didn’t let him finish. She was already turning away. “I’ll be out in a jiff.”
Ben shrugged. “Whatever.”
Carole noticed that he still didn’t look convinced. But he’ll see, she told herself as she rushed inside. He just doesn’t know Samson the way I do. This will work out great.
“Whoa! Steady, big guy.” Carole’s voice and hands were firm as she brought Samson to a halt. The big black horse let out a snort and rolled his eyes in the direction of Firefly, who was prancing nervously nearby, tossing her head wildly as Ben fought for control.
Samson flicked his ears back toward Carole, and she let out a quick sigh of relief. He was still listening to her, and that was good. All he needed was a little time to work out his energy, and then they could begin this training session in earnest.
“Are you okay?” Ben called to her.
Glancing over, Carole saw that he had Firefly standing more or less calmly by the fence. “Fine,” she called back. “Samson is just enthusiastic, that’s all. He hasn’t spent much time with other horses since he got here.” She made a mental note to fix that, chastising herself for not thinking of it sooner. Samson needed to be able to work calmly in the presence of other horses, and he was proving that he was out of practice with that.
Carole had to admit—to herself, if not to Ben—that this training session wasn’t going smoothly so far. Ever since Samson had entered the ring, he had been more interested in showing off for the gray mare than doing what Carole wanted him to do. The two young horses were both just excitable enough to get each other completely riled up.
Still, Carole was sure that after the two of them had spent a few minutes working out their high spirits, they would be able to work together just fine. She just hoped Ben would have enough patience to wait it out.
“It’s okay, Samson,” she said soothingly as her horse took a few quick steps sideways. “I know you want to play. But we’ve got to get to work soon.” She cast a worried glance across the ring.
Ben was speaking softly to Firefly. The mare listened at first, her ears tilted back toward her rider. But then Samson let out a loud snort, and Firefly danced around to face him, stamping her slender forelegs and nickering.
Samson tossed his head, snorted again, and whirled around before Carole could stop him. He was halfway across the ring, trotting away from Firefly, before she managed to command his attention once more. “Okay, big fella,” she told him. “That’s enough. Do you want that mare to think you don’t have any manners?”
Ben rode toward her. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.…”
“It’s okay,” Carole answered immediately, turning Samson to face Firefly. For once, both horses stood more or less calmly as their riders talked. “See? They’re settling down.” She grinned. “They were just excited about working together.”
Ben shrugged. “If you say so.”
“I do say so,” Carole replied tartly, feeling almost as spirited as Samson. “Come on, let’s try them over the course now. I’ll go first.”
Ben nodded, and Carole clucked to Samson, wheeling him around to make a circuit of the ring. All she had to do was get him moving smoothly and concentrating on his work. Then she could take him to the first fence, and …
Samson had other ideas. He trotted smoothly enough the first time around the ring. But when Carole brought him around past Firefly, he broke stride and darted toward her, stretching his head out playfully. The mare responded by whirling away and half rearing, then dancing sideways and shaking her head so hard that Ben had trouble holding on to the reins.
“Whoa!” Carole cried, dismayed. “Samson, calm down!”
After a few minutes Carole and Ben managed to get both horses standing quietly again, though Samson kept turning to stare at Firefly, and the gray mare continued to stamp one foot occasionally.
“This isn’t working,” Ben said bluntly, his face sweaty from exertion. “They’re getting more unmanageable by the minute.”
Ben was right. He had been patient—they both had—but it was clear that Samson and Firefly weren’t ready to work together. She sighed, feeling unreasonably disappointed. “What do you think we should do?” she asked heavily. “Should I go put Samson away and tack up Starlight?”
Ben responded by dismounting. “I don’t think so,” he said once he was on the ground with Firefly firmly in hand. “This girl needs to get away from here for a while and calm down.”
“Oh.” Carole bit her lip as she thought about all the work she had planned to do with Samson that day. Now it would have to wait even longer while she helped soothe the excitable mare. “All right. I’ll help you walk her. It might take two of us.”
Ben shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll handle it,” he said. “You might as well stay here and keep working with Samson now that he’s warmed up.”
Carole’s heart soared. But she tried not to look as happy as she felt. She didn’t want Ben to think she was shirking her duties to Firefly. “Are you sure? I can help if you need it. Really.”
“I’ll be fine.” Ben turned and led the mare away, closing the subject.
Carole shrugged and smiled as she watched them go. “Thanks,” she called. There was no response from Ben, but she wasn’t really expecting one. Besides, she knew he was probably right. Firefly was so flighty that it would be better for all of them simply to put her away for the day and let her settle down. Ben would probably untack her and then walk her around the empty back paddock to cool and calm her. That would be the best thing for her, but it really wasn’t a two-person job. Ben could handle it, and Carole was free to turn her full attention to Samson.
“Ready, fella?” she murmured to the horse, who calmed down quite a bit once Firefly disappeared inside. “Let’s get to work.”
Forty minutes later, Carole reluctantly pulled Samson to a halt. “That was great,” she told him with a pat. “I think your mama must have been part kangaroo.”
She was feeling a little giddy, but then again, why shouldn’t she? The training session had been terrific. Samson had done everything she had asked and more, making her wonder if there was anything this horse couldn’t do. She would have liked to go on riding all afternoon—riding out of the ring, cross-country, jumping everything in their path—but she knew it was time to stop. Samson didn’t seem tired yet, but she wasn’t about to take any chances with Max’s new champ.
She slid off the horse’s back and led him out of the ring. He needed to be walked after the strenuous workout, but the late-afternoon sun was so hot that Carole decided it would be more comfortable to walk him in the shade of the indoor ring. She headed inside.
As she approached the door to the indoor ring, she saw that it was propped open, and it sounded as if the ring was occupied. Carole frowned, disappointed, and glanced at her watch. There were no beginning or intermediate lessons scheduled this late in the day.
Keeping a firm grip on Samson’s lead, she approached the door and peered inside. What she saw didn’t register at first, and she wrinkled her nose, confused.
Red O’Malley was mounted on Topside, who was cantering across the center of the ring, heading for a low jump just ahead. To one side, Ben sat aboard Firefly. The gray mare was standing calmly and her ears were pricked forward as she watched Topside move past. Carole backed away from the door, her forehead creased as she wondered what was going on.
In a flash, she understood. Ben had gone ahead with his plan without her, without even telling
her. He had lied. He had let her think he was taking Firefly in when actually he had enlisted Red to help him instead of Carole.
Why? she asked herself, staring blankly ahead as Firefly came forward and started cantering smoothly next to Topside as he passed her again. The well-trained older horse didn’t so much as acknowledge the mare’s presence, and after flicking her ears toward him a few times, Firefly ignored Topside just as completely.
Carole felt her face turning red. Ben had lied to her. He had tricked her, rejected the help she had offered, and then sought the same help from someone else. Feeling angry and betrayed, she whirled around and hurried away, with Samson in tow, before either of the other riders could see her standing there.
THIRTEEN
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Stevie chanted under her breath as she hurried down the sidewalk on Wednesday afternoon, dodging baby strollers and recently released students from the nearby elementary school. She glanced at her watch and gulped. Phil had been on her case a lot lately about being late, and even though she had a perfectly good excuse—her after-school student council meeting had run late because of a heated debate over the junior-class fund-raiser—she hated to prove him right.
She sped up as she approached the corner of Magnolia and Broad in downtown Willow Creek. Taking the corner at a fast jog, she headed for a tiny side street at the far end of the town’s original shopping district. Stevie knew the occupants of each turn-of-the-century brick storefront without bothering to look—HiValu Shoes, the fire station, an accountant’s office, Old Dixie Hardware Emporium, Stevie’s dentist’s office. Things didn’t change much in downtown Willow Creek. There had been what passed for an uproar when the flower shop on State Street had closed and been replaced by a McDonald’s—in other words, several crusty old ladies had written politely scathing protest letters to the local newspaper, and the mayor, who doubled as the town’s most popular barber, had said a few disapproving words at a town meeting about the evils of the modern world.
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