Callie didn’t answer for a second. Granted, she had only known Ben for a few months, but she couldn’t remember another time when he had voluntarily engaged in small talk—with her or anyone else. Besides that, it wasn’t clear whether the remark had actually been directed to her, since Ben was now staring thoughtfully at his own feet. “Looks that way,” she said at last.
Ben looked up again, seeming startled to receive an answer. “Carole’s been doing that a lot lately,” he muttered. “Losing track of stuff.”
Once again, Callie wasn’t sure how to respond. Luckily she was saved from having to figure it out. Their conversation was cut off as Stevie brushed between them. “I’ll call Phil at the restaurant,” she called over her shoulder. “He’s probably there by now. He’ll have to meet us at the theater instead, and we’ll eat afterward.”
“Wait!” Carole called after her. “You don’t have to do that. Why don’t you guys just go ahead? Really. I don’t mind. I can see the movie another time.”
“Don’t be silly.” Lisa glanced around at the group and started ticking things off on her fingers in her usual organized way. “Now, come on. You can start cooling down Samson while Alex and Scott and I head out and round up those yearlings. Emily and Callie can clean your tack …” Her voice trailed off. “Oh. Then there’s Starlight. Maybe we can just turn him out in the paddock or—”
Ben stepped forward. “Don’t worry about him.” His voice was quiet, but it carried easily to the whole group. “I’ll longe him for you if you want.”
Carole shot him a grateful look. “Oh, that would be great, Ben,” she said as everyone turned to look at him. “Thanks.”
Ben shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable at the attention. “No problem.”
Lisa took a step toward him, smiling tentatively. “That’s really nice of you, Ben,” she said. “And listen. If you’re not too busy tonight, we’re all going to the movies and then out for a bite to eat. Would you like to join us?”
At that, Ben looked more uncomfortable than ever. He glanced helplessly over his shoulder, like a cornered animal searching for a safe exit. “Um, I don’t think so,” he muttered. “I have a lot—I mean, I have to—I don’t think so.”
Callie shook her head as Ben turned and fled. He was a strange one, that was for sure. But she didn’t have much time to think about it. She had some tack to clean.
TWO
“If I faint, don’t try to revive me,” Alex declared, clasping his stomach dramatically and sliding down in his seat. “Just shove some food down my throat and I’ll be fine.”
Carole lowered her menu and glanced across Hank’s Bank’s largest table, where the entire group of friends had just been seated. The restaurant was packed with its Saturday-night crowd, which included adults and younger children as well as other high-school students. “Sorry,” Carole said for at least the fifteenth time. She knew it was her fault that they were eating three hours later than any of them had planned. Her friends hadn’t let her forget it—they had been teasing her nonstop since they’d all left the theater earlier.
Carole understood her friends’ teasing, after all, because she was used to it. She knew as well as anyone that she could be scatterbrained when it came to anything other than horses. To her, though, that was only natural. Somehow the things other people found important, things like school, social events, time, even food and sleep, tended to fly straight out of her head whenever she got engrossed in her work at the stable—the work she loved better than anything else, and which she fully planned to devote her life to as soon as she finished school.
Lisa elbowed Alex in the ribs. “Enough,” she ordered. She knew that Carole wasn’t particularly sensitive to teasing, but she was afraid they might be going a little overboard. After all, they were here now, all together and ready to eat. That was what really mattered. “If you don’t stop teasing Carole about this,” she warned her boyfriend playfully, “I may have to ask Stevie to start telling stories about what you were like as a little boy.”
Stevie grinned and sat bolt upright. “Sure!” she said eagerly. “I could start with the Halloween when we were four and I decided to dress up as a mermaid and Alex got jealous of my cool costume and made Mom and Dad get him one just like it. Or maybe you’d rather hear the one about when he decided he wanted to join a nudist colony when he was five and—”
“Okay, okay!” Alex protested, holding up both hands in surrender. “I get your point. Carole, you won’t hear another peep out of me all evening. Not even if the police question me about why all my friends suddenly dropped dead of starvation.”
Everyone laughed at that, including Carole. Then the group turned to a discussion of the movie they had just seen, until the waitress interrupted. “Ready to order, kids?” she asked cheerfully.
“Are we ever!” Phil declared. “Just bring us one of everything.”
“Make that two of everything,” Alex corrected.
Stevie rolled her eyes at the guys. “Pigs,” she said. Then she turned to the waitress to place her order.
Everyone else followed suit, and before long the waitress was hurrying off toward the kitchen. Lisa leaned back in her seat, hoping the food would come quickly. She was really hungry, despite having shared a large popcorn with Alex at the movies.
To take her mind off her grumbling stomach, she glanced at Callie, who was sitting across from her. Lisa still felt slightly awkward being around Callie, but she was smart enough to know that the only solution to that was for them to get to know each other better. “How did your riding session go today?” she asked politely.
“Pretty well, thanks,” Callie replied.
Emily, who was sitting next to Callie, grinned. “Really well, she means,” she told Lisa. “Callie and PC are getting along so well, I’m starting to feel jealous—like maybe his real name is something like Perfect for Callie.”
Lisa laughed. When she, Stevie, and Carole had first met Emily, she had kept them on their toes by constantly making up new names to fit her horse’s initials, from Prince Charming to Personal Computer.
Lisa’s mind wandered, unbidden, to yet another phrase that fit PC’s initials—Prancer Can’t, as in “Prancer can’t be ridden.” Despite her determination to forget about everything serious and have fun, she was finding it hard to dismiss that particular issue. Lisa liked to have answers to her questions. That was one of the things that made her a good student and a fast learner. The flip side of that quality was that at times like this, when she couldn’t get the answer she really needed, it tended to gnaw at her, making it difficult to concentrate on other things. And it was getting harder and harder to sit back and be patient about Prancer’s situation. She had managed for a while, theorizing that Judy Barker, the equine vet who was half owner of Prancer, might be selling her share in the horse to Max. Beyond that, Lisa’s imagination ran wild. There were plenty of things that could go wrong with a horse’s health, and some of the possibilities were very frightening indeed—and by now Lisa had considered all of them. Still, none of it made sense, and she knew that worrying wouldn’t help.
Lisa forced her attention back to Callie and Emily’s discussion. They were planning Callie’s training sessions for the next couple of weeks.
“… and once your friend leaves and we’re back on our daily schedule, we can take it from there,” Emily was saying.
Callie nodded. “Sounds good.” She looked worried. “Do you think missing three days in a row is going to make a big difference? I mean, maybe I could work something out so we could—”
“Oh, please!” Emily exclaimed. “I bet you could miss twice that long and have no problem at all picking up where you left off.” She turned and winked at Lisa across the table. “If I don’t watch out, Callie’s going to get so good at this that she won’t need me anymore.”
Callie smiled at Emily. “Not a chance,” she said. “There’s no way I could have come this far without you.”
As Lisa listened to the other tw
o girls, she fiddled with her spoon. Part of her realized that what Callie had just said was rather unusual. Lisa didn’t know Callie well, but she knew her well enough to sense her strong will and independent spirit. It was probably a pretty big deal for her to admit how much she counted on Emily. Still, Lisa understood perfectly. She knew from talking to Carole and Stevie that Emily had been a good friend and a patient partner in Callie’s recovery since the beginning.
I just wish Emily could help me with my problem, she thought sadly. I wish she could help me believe that there’s nothing seriously wrong with Prancer. Because if I don’t get some good news pretty soon, it’s going to drive me crazy.
At the other end of the table, Scott and Phil were deep in a discussion of the finer points of the Washington Redskins’ defensive line that season. Stevie sipped her water and listened patiently as long as she could stand it. But finally she’d had enough. She liked sports as well as the next person, but she had trouble comprehending how people could discuss the same things about their favorite teams or games over and over again.
“Okay, that’s enough,” she said abruptly. When the two guys glanced at her in surprise, she went on briskly. “Time for a new topic. Otherwise I’m going to die of boredom even before I die of hunger.” She glanced down the table at Carole to see if she’d heard the gibe, but Carole was busy talking to Alex.
Scott looked a little surprised at her interruption, but Phil just saluted sharply. “Aye-aye, ma’am,” he said in his best military voice. “Orders understood and obeyed. What would you care to talk about at this time, ma’am?”
Scott chuckled at that. “I see you have your boyfriend well trained, Stevie,” he joked.
Phil grinned. “Watch what you say,” he told Scott. “If you’re not careful, I’ll sic her on you. Then you’ll be sorry.”
“Very funny.” Stevie rolled her eyes. “Now if you don’t mind, let’s try having an intelligent conversation about something that doesn’t involve shoulder pads and end zones, okay?”
“Fair enough,” Scott said good-naturedly. He shot Phil a quick, mischievous grin. “Why don’t you get us started, Stevie? I’d love to hear your views on world peace. I always find your insights extremely fascinating.”
Stevie sent him a sour glance as Phil laughed. “Is that one of your junior politician’s tricks to make me think you’re not some boring, sports-obsessed nut?” But she couldn’t keep her eyes from twinkling with amusement. Now that she and Scott were talking again, she was remembering why she had liked him in the first place—and realizing why he and Phil were rapidly becoming good friends. Scott sometimes did come across as the younger version of a smooth-talking politician like his father. He was rarely at a loss for an appropriate response to anything anyone said, and he had a way of making people feel comfortable with him no matter what the situation. But he was also warm and genuine underneath that slick, handsome exterior, with a sharp and slightly wicked sense of humor and a quick and lively mind.
“You’d better watch out, buddy,” Phil said, grinning. “It’s not going to be easy to get Stevie’s vote. She’s a cynic.”
“Ha ha.” Stevie stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend.
Scott chuckled. “Good thing I won’t be running for any offices at Fenton Hall,” he said, reaching for his water glass. “Stevie might decide to run against me.”
Stevie just grinned at that. Privately, she thought it was too bad the election for student body president at her school had been held the previous spring, before Scott came to town. If he had been around then, maybe we wouldn’t be stuck with prissy little Trina Sullivan as our president, she thought, thinking of the perky, popular senior who had won by a landslide. If I’d known she was going to win and torture us with her stupid ideas about new cheerleading uniforms and fat-free ice cream in the cafeteria, I really might have considered running against her myself.
“Maybe we should have a coup,” she said half seriously. “We could take Trina and the rest of her clique hostage and threaten to take away their makeup and feed them nondiet soda until they give in to our demands.”
Scott shrugged. “I’m game,” he joked. “But only if you’ll sign on as my head general and bodyguard.”
At that moment the waitress headed toward them carrying a large platter heaped with food. Another waitress followed with a second tray.
“Aha!” Alex crowed. “We’re saved!”
Carole sat back and watched as the waitresses quickly and expertly passed out plates of burgers, sandwiches, and salads, accompanied by tall, frosty glasses of soda and juice. At the end, with a flourish, they set two large platters of fresh, hot onion rings in the center of the table.
Reaching for an onion ring, Carole glanced around the table at her friends. Stevie, Phil, and Scott were in the midst of a lively discussion—or was it an argument? Sometimes with Stevie it was hard to tell, since she seemed to enjoy arguing with people, including Phil, almost as much as she liked a friendly chat. Lisa, meanwhile, seemed to be lost in thoughts of her own as she munched on the tuna melt she had ordered. Next to Lisa, Alex was eagerly discussing with Callie and Emily the merits of onion rings versus french fries, so Carole sat back, popped the hot, greasy onion ring into her mouth, and allowed her mind to drift back to her favorite subject—horses.
Horses always occupied a large part of her mind, but lately one horse in particular had dominated her thoughts. Samson had come to Pine Hollow just a few short weeks before—twenty-seven days, nine hours, and fifty-five minute before, as Carole could have told anyone who asked, after just a moment or two of calculation. But this wasn’t the first time the big, athletic black horse had lived at the stable. Actually, he had been born at Pine Hollow—his dam, a beautiful palomino named Delilah, had been one of Max’s most popular school horses, while his sire, Cobalt, had belonged to a wealthy rider Carole’s age named Veronica diAngelo. Veronica had been a good rider, but she had been careless, more concerned with appearances and getting what she wanted than with safety. Because of that, there had been an accident, a tragic accident that had resulted in Cobalt’s death.
Carole had been very attached to Cobalt, and his death had been a hard blow. For a while, in fact, she had seriously considered giving up riding altogether. It had seemed too difficult for her to face the idea that accidents could happen, that the life of such a beautiful, vibrant creature could suddenly be taken away with no warning whatsoever. That a noble, regal creature could suffer and die, and that there was little or nothing Carole could do to prevent it.
That was why Carole, even more than her friends, had been so touched by Samson’s birth a few months later. Even from the beginning, the colt bore a remarkable resemblance to his sire, from his gleaming black coat to his fiery spirit. For Carole, that had been an unmistakable sign that Cobalt’s soul lived on even though his body had died, and for that reason, along with his own special personality, Samson had always been a particular favorite of hers.
As he grew up, Samson had shown signs of great talent as a jumper, and eventually Max had sold him to a serious rider in the next county who had hoped to take the big black horse to the Olympics someday. For a while, Carole had all but forgotten Samson, thinking of him mostly on special days, like his birthday or the anniversary of Cobalt’s death.
Then Max had announced that Samson was coming back to Pine Hollow. Carole had been thrilled about that, and even more thrilled when Max had asked her to take over Samson’s training.
Carole still wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to do when she got older. Sometimes she thought she might want to be a competitive rider; at other times she considered becoming a riding instructor and stable owner like Max or a vet like Judy Barker. But whatever she did in the future, Carole knew that training experience would come in handy. Good riders never stopped training their horses, reinforcing and adding lessons even on a simple trail ride. For that reason, Carole took every training task seriously. But training Samson was extra special, not only because of h
er feelings for him, but also because he had real potential to be a champion show jumper.
As Carole methodically ate her burger and onion rings, she thought back over her progress with Samson for the past week and planned how to proceed in the days and weeks to come. The horse was so talented that it seemed there was nothing he couldn’t do—it was just a matter of having her help him reach his potential. It was a challenging task, but one that completely fascinated and absorbed her. The only drawback was that there just didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day for her to spend with the wonderful black horse …
At that same moment, Lisa was once again trying to force her worries about Prancer out of her mind. She reached for an onion ring, her hand colliding with Stevie’s over the platter as they grabbed for the same one.
“Watch it,” Scott joked. “You’d better back off. Stevie seems pretty serious about these onion rings.”
Lisa laughed. “No kidding,” she agreed. “I’ve seen her fight her own mother for the last one on the plate. More than once, actually.”
“Guilty as charged,” Stevie said. “But tell the truth, Lisa. Now that you’ve tasted Hank’s onion rings again, aren’t you extra glad you didn’t decide to stay in La-La Land this year after all?”
Lisa’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt her heart stop dead in her chest. It started beating again half a second later, twice as fast as usual, as she glanced at Alex sitting beside her. When she saw that he was leaning forward, talking earnestly with Emily about his favorite rock band, she let out a quick sigh of relief. Thank goodness. He hadn’t heard Stevie’s comment.
Lisa pushed back her chair quickly. “I’m going to make a run to the ladies’ room,” she said as casually as she could manage. “Stevie, want to come along?”
“No thanks,” Stevie said without looking up from her plate. “I don’t need to go.”
Changing Leads Page 18