WILL RED GET THE BOOT?
Veronica jumped to the ground, flinging her reins angrily at Red O’Malley.
“Did you hear me? Garnet behaved horribly, and it was your fault. You intentionally put this harsh bit on her to make her uncomfortable. Obviously a horse this sensitive doesn’t need a bit like this! Poor thing, she was so nervous and scared, she could barely walk.”
Red sighed. In a quiet, polite voice, he reminded Veronica that she had specifically asked him to switch Garnet’s usual bit for the more severe one.
“I did not!” Veronica exclaimed. She eyed Red menacingly. “How dare you say that! How dare you talk back to me! Or have you forgotten who’s the paying customer around here and who’s the stable hand? I guess I’ll just have to have my father talk to Max about you.” With that final threat, Veronica stormed off into the barn.
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STABLE GROOM
A Skylark Book / July 1995
Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.
“The Saddle Club” is a trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller. The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1995 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
The artist gives special thanks to the West Milford Equestrian Center. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.
eISBN: 978-0-307-82542-1
Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.
v3.1
I would like to express my special thanks
to Caitlin Macy
for her help in the writing of this book.
Contents
Cover
Other Books You Will Enjoy
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
About the Author
STEVIE LAKE PAUSED to catch her breath. She had been running all the way from home to Pine Hollow Stables to make it in time for her Pony Club meeting. Unfortunately, a glance at her watch revealed that she was a good five minutes late already. Stevie sighed. To the average person, five minutes might not seem like very long. But to Max Regnery, the owner of Pine Hollow and the instructor of the local Pony Club, Horse Wise, five minutes might as well be five years. Once you were late, you were late. Period. Prepared for the worst, Stevie hurried to Max’s office, where Horse Wise was meeting.
Bursting through the office door, full of apologies and explanations, she was dismayed to find the room empty. That was even worse. That meant the other Pony Clubbers had already moved out to the stables to discuss the topic of the day’s unmounted meeting.
“Stupid closet!” Stevie muttered. Her closet was the reason she was late. Just as she had been about to leave, it had erupted in a mountain of clothes, shoes, schoolbooks, riding equipment, and stuffed animals. The noise had attracted the attention of Stevie’s mother. Mrs. Lake, a stickler for housework, had taken one look at the wall-to-wall clutter and said, “Of course, I don’t need to remind you that you’ll clean this up before you go to Pony Club, dear.”
There had been no getting around her mother, and there would be no getting around Max. Gritting her teeth, Stevie turned to go find the group. She knew she had better rush in order not to miss any more of the meeting. However, Stevie thought, pausing for a second, she didn’t have to rush so much that she couldn’t stop to look at something that caught her eye on Max’s desk.
For months there had been a pile of cruise brochures sitting on a corner of the heavy oak desk. Stevie and her two best friends, Carole Hanson and Lisa Atwood, had assumed that Max and Deborah, his fiancée, were planning to go for a cruise on their honeymoon. But since nothing had been said about their wedding date—and the brochures had stayed put—the girls had figured it must still be a long way off. Obviously, Max and Deborah were just gathering preliminary information. But now the pile of brochures was gone, and there was only one brochure left. Taking a quick look around to make sure she was still alone, Stevie grabbed the brochure. She knew she was being nosy, but she just had to find out what was going on with Max and Deborah.
“Sail the Caribbean on the magnificent cruise ship Ocean Pearl!” Stevie read, glancing over the pictures of plush suites and decadent banquets. Then she inhaled sharply. The departure date of the cruise was less than a month away. That could mean only one thing: Max and Deborah were finally going to be married! Stevie was delighted with the news. The couple had had a somewhat rocky courtship—no thanks, Stevie remembered wryly, to The Saddle Club.
The Saddle Club was a group that Stevie, Lisa, and Carole had started. Its rules were simple: Members had to be crazy about horses and willing to help one another in any situation. But the situations themselves were often quite complicated. For instance, when Deborah first came to Pine Hollow, The Saddle Club had been convinced that she was unfriendly—even cold. They hadn’t realized that she was just insecure around horses because she didn’t know much about them. They also hadn’t realized something much more important: The reason she kept coming back to the stables was to see Max! The three girls had behaved rudely toward her. Luckily, when they figured out that Max and Deborah were in love, The Saddle Club concocted one of their famous plans and reversed all the damage they had done. Stevie smiled to herself at the memory of Max’s face when he saw the Fourth of July fireworks display that they had helped Deborah think up. It had read simply, “Marry me, Max!” Stevie was the one who usually got the three of them into—and out of—mix-ups. Her sense of fun and adventure almost always overrode her common sense.
Lisa and Carole weren’t quite as prone to scheming as Stevie. With her straight-A average and her other interests besides riding, Lisa was just too busy. Carole, meanwhile, was so devoted to horses that she often forgot the rest of the world existed.
Stevie could hardly wait to share her discovery about the cruise with Lisa and Carole. They would be just as excited as she was about Max and Deborah. Sometimes, she thought, being late had its advantages.
Taking a final look at the date on the brochure, Stevie cha
rged out to the barn to catch up with Horse Wise. She found the group assembled inside the grain room. At unmounted meetings Max usually chose some aspect of stable management to talk about. As Stevie approached, she could tell that today’s topic was feeding. Sidling up to the group, Stevie kept her eyes down, hoping Max wouldn’t notice her arrival.
“When I was in Pony Club, we didn’t have mixtures like pellets and sweet feed,” Max was saying, “which is why everyone fed pure oats and corn. Of course, some trainers—” He paused, mid-sentence. Stevie froze. She looked up. Max had fixed a disapproving eye on her. He let it linger for a moment while she squirmed. Then he cleared his throat and continued. “Of course, some trainers still prefer to mix their own feed, and we keep oats available …”
Stevie let out a sigh of relief. Strangely enough, Max hadn’t given her a lecture about tardiness. She smiled to herself: It was incredible how much being about to get married could improve some people’s personalities.
“So how would you know what a proper feeding schedule for your horse is? Veronica, let’s start with you. How would you know what and when Garnet should be eating?”
Veronica diAngelo’s face wrinkled into a frown. She shrugged. “I’d ask Red. That’s his job, isn’t it?”
The Saddle Club looked at one another, rolling their eyes. It was a typical answer for Veronica, the stable snob. The girl never cleaned a piece of tack, groomed, or, evidently, fed her own horse if she could help it. Instead, she depended on the head stable hand, Red O’Malley, to do all her work for her. It worked fine at horse shows, where she showed up with Garnet looking immaculate every time, and the judges never knew any better. But in Pony Club, where horsemanship and stable management counted as much as riding ability, her attitude made her look ridiculous and kept her from passing higher ratings.
Max clenched his teeth, visibly trying to control his annoyance. “Never mind,” he said curtly. “Why doesn’t someone else answer the question.”
Stevie, Lisa, and Carole were in shock. It was one thing for Stevie to get away with being ten minutes late. But it was quite another for Max not to reprimand Veronica for such a typically rude answer. Even his upcoming wedding couldn’t have affected him that much.
In response, Lisa whispered, “He’s trying not to lose his temper in front of the guest.” She pointed to an attractive young woman leaning on the grain bins behind Max whom Stevie hadn’t noticed. Before she could whisper back to Lisa and ask who the woman was, Max’s words broke through her thoughts.
“And now I’d like Denise to tell you about planning an overall diet for your horse,” Max said. He turned and gestured to the woman. “But first, Denise, why don’t I officially introduce you to Horse Wise? Everyone, meet Denise McCaskill. She knows all about Pony Club, since she is an A-rated member. She’s also a certified riding counselor and instructor”—Max waved his hands to quiet the excited chatter that had broken out—“and Denise can fill you in on the rest.”
Denise smiled invitingly at the group. “It might take me a few days to learn all of your names, so please bear with me. Let’s see … as Max said, I do have my ‘A.’ I grew up in the Midwest, and my home club is Ridgeway Pony Club, outside of Indianapolis, Indiana. Right now I’m in college in Virginia, though, so that’s why I’m here. I’m on a scholarship to major in equine studies. I met Max when he was giving a lecture to us about owning and operating a farm like Pine Hollow. So, I guess that’s about it. We can start the discussion.”
Stevie elbowed Carole and Lisa, whom she was standing between, and gave them the thumbs-up sign.“She seems neat, huh?” she whispered. Carole and Lisa nodded eagerly.
Denise proved herself to be both knowledgeable and fun. She was petite with dark brown eyes and dark brown hair that she kept in a long braid down her back. Her tanned face and sunburnt nose showed how much time she spent outdoors. She smiled a lot, and when she spoke she sounded confident yet modest. Everyone looked impressed, listening intently. After a few minutes Denise paused to pose a question to the group. “Can anyone tell me what ‘roughage’ is?” she asked.
Stevie spoke up. “Yeah, it’s when my brothers and I get in a fight and beat each other up,” she joked. Then she bit her tongue. She always forgot that newcomers who weren’t used to her sense of humor might not find her jokes funny. She grimaced as Max frowned at her, shaking his head. But to her relief, Denise started to laugh.
“That’s one of the best wrong answers I’ve heard,” she said. “And as the only girl in a family of five children, I know all about that kind of roughage. But seriously, any other guesses?”
Carole’s hand went up. “Roughage is the bulk of a horse’s diet, usually grass and hay.” Carole could almost always be counted on to know the right answer when it came to horse care. She had been riding since she was very little and loved every aspect of the sport. Her only dilemma was what kind of a horsey job she would have when she grew up—trainer, professional rider, or vet. Once in a while she even thought about being a blacksmith!
“Exactly,” said Denise. “I like to think of roughage as the equine equivalent of salad.” Her eyes twinkled as she added, “Only horses seem to be much better about eating hay than we are about eating salad. Now, who can tell me some kinds of hay and how to best store and feed it?”
The discussion went on for almost a half hour, with Max and Denise alternating who spoke and asked questions. Stevie tried to concentrate, but she could hardly pay attention, she was so excited about her find in Max’s office. She kept staring at Max to see if she could notice a difference in him now that he knew the actual date of his wedding. Luckily, a lot of other people volunteered to answer questions, so she wasn’t caught off guard. After what seemed like an interminable period of time, Max wrapped up the talk, reminding everyone to study the sections on feeding in the Pony Club manual before the next unmounted meeting.
As soon as Max dismissed them, a number of Pony Clubbers, including Lisa and Carole, swarmed around Denise. Stevie sighed; the news would have to wait still longer. Denise happily answered questions about getting her “A” and majoring in equine studies. Finally, she told everyone that human nutrition was just as important as equine, and if she didn’t eat lunch soon, she was going to faint from hunger. Everyone scattered to get their brown bags. Stevie, Lisa, and Carole agreed to meet outside on the knoll overlooking Pine Hollow, their traditional lunch spot.
Practically bursting with her discovery, Stevie charged out, telling her friends to hurry and join her. When they were all sitting down, Lisa told Stevie that she had just one question.
“What’s that?” Stevie asked, impatient to share her news.
“Where’s your lunch?” Lisa inquired.
Stevie looked around distractedly. In all her excitement she had forgotten to bring it out. Come to think of it, she had no idea where she had put it.
Carole and Lisa began to giggle. “You look like a dog who’s lost its bone,” Carole said.
“This must be pretty important if you’re forgetting about eating,” said Lisa. Usually Stevie took great enjoyment in the lunch break.
Stevie looked at her two friends disparagingly.“Sometimes there are more important things to think about than eating,” she said. Then it hit her where she must have left her lunch bag. The only place she had stopped had been Max’s office. She had to go rescue it before it got eaten or thrown out. The news would have to wait still longer. “Don’t move,” she told Lisa and Carole, tearing off to the office.
“Where else would we go?” Carole called after her, shaking her head. They were used to Stevie’s temporary periods of insanity, but enduring them could still be rather trying.
When Stevie got to the office, she could hear Max speaking on the telephone. The door was open, and she went in to grab her lunch off the desk, where it was sitting. Max nodded at her but kept talking. As Stevie left, his words floated up to her ears. “Right. So I’d like to go ahead and book the cruise,” he said.
Stevie
paused for a millisecond, grinning wildly to herself. Then she sprinted back, elated. Talk about hearing it from the horse’s mouth!
SETTLING HERSELF ON the knoll between her two friends, Stevie poured out the news. “Max and Deborah are probably definitely getting married on the twenty-seventh because their cruise leaves Miami on the twenty-eighth,” she explained breathlessly. “I saw the brochure on Max’s desk—all the other ones were gone. And then just now I heard him say he wanted to book the cruise. Just think: In less than a month there will be a Mrs. Max Regnery III!”
The announcement had the effect on Lisa and Carole that Stevie had suspected it would. They clapped their hands together excitedly.
“That’s fantastic. I’m so happy for Max—and Deborah,”Carole said. “It seems like they’ve been engaged forever. And don’t forget, we had a material part in getting them together,” she added dreamily.
“Yeah, right after we had a material part in nearly breaking them up,” Lisa remarked dryly.
Stevie jumped in hastily. “But let’s not spend too much time remembering that part. The important thing is that they’re ending up husband and wife.”
“You know, that probably explains why Denise is here. If Max is going to be busy planning his wedding, he’s going to need more help than just Red can give him,” Carole pointed out.
“You’re right,” Lisa said. “And isn’t Denise great?”
The three of them talked at length about how much they had liked Denise, even after just one meeting. They all thought they could learn a lot from her and have a great time with her, too.
“How old do you think she is?” Carole asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Probably around eighteen or twenty if she’s in college,” Lisa guessed.
“Yeah, she looks about Red’s age. Why?” Stevie asked.
Carole sighed. “I was just trying to figure out how many years it would be before I could be an A-Pony Clubber, majoring in equine studies. That is, if I ever get my ‘A,’ ” she added modestly.
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