“Seriously, what do you think her chances are to beat me?” Stevie asked. In her own mind, she set the odds at about 50-50. When Veronica focused, there was no telling how well she would ride. She was a “prettier” rider than Stevie was, but she was also likely to lose her temper if one little thing went wrong. Part of the question was whether, in the judges’ minds, Stevie’s “get-the-job-done” style would compare with Veronica’s picture-perfect posing.
Before Lisa or Carole could answer, the locker room door swung open, and Veronica herself walked in. The Saddle Club immediately stopped talking and busied themselves with changing as fast as they could.
Half an hour later the group was mounted and warming up in the outdoor ring. To their surprise, class that day was to be entirely on the flat instead of over fences. Everyone seemed relieved when Max made the announcement—the air around the barn was competitive enough without having to compare jumping skills in every lesson. Max had also decided to lighten things up by pairing the “senior” riders—students in The Saddle Club’s age group—with juniors to work on position in the saddle, one of the most important parts of equitation. The younger kids always seemed to have a good time, and their ponies were so cute that the older riders loved working with them.
Lisa was paired with May Grover, a girl whom she knew from a previous junior/senior matchup. May, a skilled rider for her age, rode a pony named Macaroni. May was so enthusiastic that Lisa always enjoyed working with her.
Once everyone was paired up, Max put them through a bunch of drills, making them critique one another. Then he let them ride on their own while he watched. The lesson proceeded without incident until Veronica collided with her own partner and screamed at her for not looking where she was going. Little Laura Heiss, who was only six, screamed right back until she was blue in the face.
Finally, Max called a halt to the argument as well as to the class. He gave them a quick pep talk for Saturday, reminding them to treat the judges with respect.
“Do we have to look perfect, Max?” May Grover asked.
“Not perfect—but pretty close to perfect, May. I expect everyone to be well groomed,” Max replied, turning to go. “And that goes for you and your horses!” he called back over his shoulder. The Saddle Club looked at Carole and grinned. On more than one occasion, she had been known to show up with a beautifully turned-out horse, but with her own hair going every which way, smears of dirt on her face, and a hole or two in her breeches.
“Don’t worry,” Carole said tolerantly. “I promise to hose myself down before the meeting. Okay?”
May tugged on Lisa’s sleeve. “I’m not sure I can get my girth tight enough by myself,” she said. May’s was a common problem among young riders who rode ponies. The young riders weren’t as strong as the older riders, and the ponies were usually a lot fatter—and better at bloating—than the horses. The combination could make girth tightening a real worry.
Lisa was wondering what advice she could offer when Stevie spoke up. “Don’t worry, May,” Stevie assured the girl. “I already told Jasmine James I’d get here early to help her tack up her pony, Outlaw, so I can help you, too.”
“Aren’t we the perfect Pony Clubber,” Veronica said, her voice saccharine sweet.
“Why, thank you, Veronica,” Stevie responded, pretending not to notice the sarcasm.
“Too bad brownnosing won’t help you win next weekend,” Veronica snapped.
Stevie said nothing—just glared, trying to think of something equally rude to answer with.
Turning her back to the group, Veronica began to sing “La Marseillaise,” the French national anthem, in a loud voice. Stevie gritted her teeth. Everyone else probably thought Veronica was being weird, but Stevie knew that she was using the song to gloat. The girls were supposed to memorize the words to it for French class. Veronica had obviously finished her homework already and knew that that would annoy Stevie—who usually did her homework late—no end.
Before things could heat up any more between the two girls, Carole interrupted. She told Stevie to hurry and dismount because they had things to talk about. Reluctantly, Stevie hopped off. She was visibly seething.
On their way into the stable, Lisa suggested having a quick Saddle Club meeting at T.D.’s, the local ice-cream shop where the three of them were regulars. She wanted to plan a few more extra jumping practices.
“Sorry, can’t,” Stevie said. “I just remembered that I have to go do my French homework.”
“French homework? Instead of ice-cream sundaes?” Lisa asked. She couldn’t remember the last time Stevie had passed up—well, anything—in order to do homework.
Stevie nodded gravely. “Yup. Until I heard Veronica singing I forgot that we’re supposed to memorize the words to ‘La Marseillaise’ for class tomorrow. Since Veronica obviously already knows one verse, I’m going to have to learn two verses so that I can be ahead of her.”
For the second time that afternoon, Lisa and Carole found themselves shaking their heads at Stevie’s competitiveness. It was incredible how far she would take things.
Stevie, however, didn’t seem to find anything strange. “You guys go ahead without me,” she told her friends. “And about extra practice, how about tomorrow afternoon? If Veronica shows up, we can scare her off with our great equitation over fences. Okay, Lisa? Does that sound good to you?” Without waiting for an answer, Stevie strode off with Belle, mumbling to herself in French.
Lisa didn’t bother to remind her friend that scaring off Veronica wasn’t her personal goal for the schooling show.
ON SATURDAY MORNING, Pine Hollow was buzzing with activity. Remembering Max’s encouragement to look smart for the judges, a number of Pony Clubbers had arrived early to do an extra-good grooming job. Max and Mrs. Reg were on hand to help out anyone who needed it. They hurried from tack room to locker room to the stalls getting ready for the judges’ arrival. Whenever anyone from the local horsey community visited Pine Hollow, the Regnerys wanted their farm in tip-top shape. It was part of what gave the stable one of the best reputations in Virginia.
On their way into the barn, Carole and Lisa met in the driveway. Each was carrying her own pair of tall black dress boots.
“How late were you up polishing?” Lisa asked, noting the sheen on Carole’s boots.
Carole grinned sheepishly. “To be honest, these super-shiny boots are thanks to the U.S. Marine Corps. Dad did them last night so I could go to bed early,” she confessed.
Lisa sighed. “Maybe I should join the armed forces sometime so that I can learn to shine my boots that well. These just aren’t as good.”
“Nah,” Carole told her, holding the stable door as they went inside, “you wouldn’t want to do that. You wouldn’t want to waste all that time on the other stuff—like marching, saluting, bed making—”
“You’re right,” Lisa interrupted with a grin. “Forget I even mentioned it.”
Together the two girls changed and groomed Prancer and Starlight. After a while, they noticed that Stevie still hadn’t shown up. They were just about to ask Max if he had heard anything, when Stevie appeared leading Belle. Stevie was perfectly dressed, and Belle’s dark coat and her tack were practically glowing with cleanliness. Even her hooves, which Stevie had painted with hoof polish, looked smart. It was clear from the pair’s appearance that Stevie had arrived at Pine Hollow long before Carole and Lisa had.
“So you are here, after all,” Carole remarked.
“Yeah, we thought you were going to be late, but it looks like you got the early-bird prize,” Lisa said. She was surprised that Stevie had beaten them to the stable.
“Oh, I’ve been here almost two hours,” Stevie said airily. “I promised to help some of the little kids before the meeting started.”
As if on cue, May Grover and Jasmine James ran up and gave Stevie a hug to thank her. They looked neat and ready for the event in their jodhpurs and paddock boots.
“I could never have gotten my girth tighte
ned without you,” May said. “Thanks, Stevie.”
“Me, either,” agreed Jasmine. “You’re the best.”
With a smile, Stevie sent the two of them on their way, promising to give them one last check before the meeting started. To Carole and Lisa she added, “I’d better give myself a once-over, too, so I’ll see you two in the indoor.”
Now that she thought about it, Lisa did remember Stevie’s mentioning that she was going to come early. It was very un-Stevian to be anywhere early for anything, but maybe she was turning over a new leaf. After all, she had put in extra practice without complaining at all and had been spending more time on her homework, too. Lisa voiced her thoughts to Carole as they finished tacking up.
“That’s true,” Carole said, “but I just hope turning over her ‘new leaf’ doesn’t mean trying even harder to beat Veronica at all costs.”
That was all the time they had to discuss Stevie’s behavior for, out of the corner of her eye, Lisa saw two men and a woman dressed in horsey clothes approaching. They were talking about the rules for the upcoming schooling show. There was no question who they were: clearly, the judges had arrived. No one would dare be caught late or unprepared, especially not The Saddle Club.
To begin the mounted meeting, Max announced over the P.A. system that the judges wished to have all the riders walk their horses into the ring so that they could examine everyone’s turnout. There would be no nit-picking inspections; they just wanted to meet next weekend’s competitors and familiarize themselves with the different horse/rider pairs. One by one, Max’s students led their mounts out until twenty gleaming horses and ponies were standing quietly, awaiting inspection.
Carole could see by the sparkle in his eye that Max was proud of their appearance. She felt proud, too—of Pine Hollow, of Starlight, and of herself. For her, the schooling show would be a perfect chance to show what she and Starlight did best. She felt confident she would reach the goal she had written down. She told as much to the judges when they began making their rounds.
“It’s nice to hear someone say that enjoyment is one of their goals. There’s no point in riding if it’s not, is there?” one of the men asked.
“No, sir,” Carole replied smartly. The three judges nodded approvingly, leaving her with a happy glow.
If anything, Lisa was even more excited than Carole at meeting the judges. When they spoke to her, they were nice and encouraging—not fierce at all. They listened attentively as she explained how young and green Prancer was, and then offered a couple of tips for helping both Prancer and Lisa to relax. By the end of the inspection, Lisa felt totally at ease. She had sort of been dreading this preliminary meeting, but now she was convinced it had been one of Max’s great ideas.
As she led Prancer away, she overheard the three of them telling Max how impressed they were with the level of knowledge at Pine Hollow, as well as the excellent condition of the horses. Lisa immediately whispered the news to Carole, who whispered to May, who told Betsy Cavanaugh. Pretty soon, everyone knew and was talking excitedly. It wasn’t often that they got to show off Pine Hollow all together, and it was a treat to hear that horse show judges found it as wonderful as they did.
When the riders had finished meeting with the judges, they went to await further instructions at the far end of the ring. Or, at least, most of them did. Veronica remained in the middle, holding Garnet and talking animatedly with the female judge. The Saddle Club cringed when they heard her laughing at something the judge had said.
“And she accused me of apple-polishing!” Stevie muttered under her breath, scowling. “Look at her—she’s trying to get on that judge’s good side. Not that it’s a surprise, considering that it’s Veronica, but I would think she’d at least be a little less obvious about it!”
Lisa and Carole shook their heads. It was definitely a revolting sight to watch Veronica falling all over the female judge. A buzz of disgruntled complaints went through the Pony Clubbers.
As if reading their minds, Max came forward and began speaking earnestly to the group. “Some of you seem surprised that Mrs. Gorham and Veronica know each other. Well—”
“You mean they know each other from before?” May piped up.
Max nodded. “Mrs. Gorham happens to belong to Mrs. diAngelo’s bridge club. But there’s no point in making a fuss about it. Any one of you could have known any one of the judges. Judges are human: they have friends and families and social lives. The important thing to remember is that they know their stuff, and they’ll judge fairly. Got it?”
The group nodded. They knew that Max wouldn’t allow any behavior that was unsportsmanlike and that his little speech was a warning to them.
Finally the judges gave the command to mount up. Everyone stopped talking, except for Veronica, who continued to make small talk with Mrs. Gorham.
“And how’s your son?” she asked, putting her foot into the stirrup.
“He’s quite well, thank you,” the judge answered, watching Veronica grab the pommel of the saddle and begin to hoist herself up. She started to swing her right leg over Garnet’s rump. Then something happened. All of a sudden, Veronica shrieked and fell to the ground.
As a unit, The Saddle Club turned to see what the matter was. Garnet had bolted at the loud noise, Mrs. Gorham was staring, speechless, and Veronica was on the ground and had started to cry hysterically. There was a rip all the way up one side of her breeches.
As she was prone to do in an emergency, Mrs. Reg appeared out of nowhere, first-aid kit in hand. While she comforted Veronica, Max sprang into action. Telling the other riders to sit tight, he caught Garnet in a flash. Then he joined his mother at Veronica’s side. By now the weeping girl had sat up. She was holding her hands to her chin, which was a bloody mess.
“What happened, Veronica?” Mrs. Reg asked.
Veronica wailed, “I c-cut my chin when I fell. I think I b-banged it on the stirrup iron.”
“Her stirrup leather—it just broke in two,” the judge added in a shocked voice.
Max raised his eyebrows. Carole noticed the surprised look on his face. A stirrup leather snapping was almost unheard of. In order for one to break, the leather had to be very old or neglected. It wasn’t something that was easy to miss when you cleaned your tack. If you ever cleaned your tack, Carole thought ruefully. It was a major embarrassment to Max and to Pine Hollow that someone—Veronica—could have been that careless about routine safety.
The other two judges seemed to think so, too. Carole grimaced when she heard the clear disapproval in their voices. “Imagine not noticing a worn-out stirrup leather,” one was saying.
“It is odd, especially in a group of horses that are so well turned out, to find that someone has been neglecting her tack completely,” the other replied.
Carole glanced worriedly at Max to see if he had overheard the conversation, as well. His pained expression confirmed that he had. Even though it was Veronica who had made the mistake, Carole felt bad because Max looked so upset.
Stevie barely noticed Max. Instead she was focused on Veronica. Under her breath, she murmured to Lisa and Carole, “Veronica would never notice what shape her tack is in—she hardly ever even puts on her own saddle. Today, when I was finished with May and Jasmine, she asked me to help tighten her girth!”
Carole and Lisa smiled wanly. Somehow neither of them felt like making fun of Veronica right then. “At least she’s stopped crying,” Lisa pointed out, trying to be optimistic.
Veronica had indeed curbed her tears for the time being. In fact, she was glaring angrily at the judges as Mrs. Reg cleaned and bandaged her chin. Obviously, she had overheard their conversation, too, and she didn’t like it one bit. Anyone who knew Veronica could guess why she looked so peeved: she had finally—and legitimately—gotten her chance to be the center of everyone’s attention. Instead of people pitying her, however, they were criticizing her for her carelessness—and most importantly, so were the judges.
After finishing her band
aging job, Mrs. Reg pronounced her medical evaluation. The cut was bleeding quite hard, as often happened with cuts under the chin. Mrs. Reg thought it would be fine, but she didn’t want to take any risks. She wanted Veronica to go to the hospital in case she needed a couple of stitches. At the word “stitches,” Veronica burst into tears again.
Max had been holding Garnet nearby. Now he brought the Arabian over to her owner. In a gentle voice, he reminded Veronica that the stable policy was that no matter why somebody fell off a horse, they had to get back on if they were physically able. “You don’t have to ride very far, but I do want you to get on and take Garnet a few steps.”
“I’ll t-try,” Veronica blubbered, “b-but how am I s-supposed to get on without a s-stirrup leather?”
“Oh, please!” muttered Stevie. “Anybody should be able to get on without a stirrup. What if you were out in the woods and something broke? What would you do then—hang around waiting for your groom to show up and hoist you on?”
In spite of themselves, Carole and Lisa started giggling. The image of Veronica’s hopping around in the woods screaming for Red O’Malley to give her a leg up was too funny not to laugh.
Other riders seemed to have had enough of the Stevie/Veronica rivalry, though. When Lisa noticed the dirty looks a few people were giving The Saddle Club—and especially Stevie—she pasted a sympathetic look on her face and motioned for her two friends to do the same. Knowing Veronica, she doubted the fall was as serious as Veronica’s screech implied, but this was obviously no time to point that out.
Max told Veronica he would give her a leg up. First he wanted to remove the broken leather so it wouldn’t be in the way. He lifted the skirt of the saddle and pulled it out. Then he peered at the leather carefully.
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