Stray Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  Max called the meeting to order.

  “Well, it’s nice to have the place to ourselves!” he began. Everybody laughed because they had noticed what nuisances the Wainwrights had been the weekend before. “You’ll all be pleased to know that the Wainwrights did very well in their show last weekend. So well, in fact, that they qualified to compete in another show this week, in Oregon!”

  Everybody broke into applause. Carole laughed. A stranger watching might have assumed that they were pleased at the Wainwrights’ success, but what they were really pleased about was the distance.

  “And the week after, they’ll be in Pennsylvania.” The applause stopped. “Western Pennsylvania,” he said. The cheering began again.

  “Enough, enough. Now, some of you must have watched them longeing their horses and seen what wonderful exercise it was. What we’re going to do today is work on longeing techniques. I think we all need a treat, so after our meeting we’re going to make small teams—two, three, four, whatever you like—and go on a trail ride. The weather’s nice, and I think it will be good for us all.”

  Even Lisa smiled, contemplating that.

  The Pony Club meeting went very fast. It seemed like only minutes until the riders were tacking up for a trail ride.

  Lisa paused before entering the tack room. She’d dreamed so fiercely about riding PJ that it felt odd to be picking up Prancer’s tack. The dream had been almost real. She sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat and holding back her tears.

  Prancer’s saddle and bridle felt strangely comfortable in her hands as she carried them to her stall. Prancer stood politely while she tacked her up, and she didn’t puff out at all.

  “You’re being cooperative today,” she said. Then she remembered: Prancer was almost always cooperative. She patted her, and the mare flicked her ears affectionately.

  Of course The Saddle Club had decided to ride together, and there was no question about what their destination would be. They’d ride to Willow Creek. They checked their watches and confirmed with Max what time he expected them back, and then they were off.

  It all felt so normal to Lisa. There she was with her friends, the best friends anyone could ever have, doing the thing they loved the most. It was almost possible to forget, for a moment at a time, anyway, that everything was wrong. Her father was gone and PJ was gone.

  “Race you to the creek!” Carole said.

  Automatically, Lisa nudged Prancer to a canter, leaving her thoughts in the woods behind her. Stevie won.

  When they’d finished dipping their feet in the rushing creek, finished watering their horses, and finished talking about longeing, they returned to Pine Hollow. Lisa’s heart became heavier and heavier as she saw the stable come into view and recognized her father’s car in the parking area.

  “I’m not going with him, you know,” she said to her friends.

  “Lisa!” said Carole.

  “Why not?” Stevie asked.

  “I don’t want to. I’ll see him. He’s here. But I’m not going anywhere with him.”

  Carole and Stevie didn’t argue with her.

  When they arrived at the stable, Lisa returned her father’s wave and indicated that she had some work to do. Then, in a very businesslike manner, she went about doing it.

  Carole didn’t think Lisa had ever given Prancer a better grooming, and she didn’t think it was because of any special techniques Lisa had picked up working with PJ. She knew a delaying tactic when she saw one.

  The girls met in the locker area, where Lisa changed into clean clothes. When she was finally ready, she looked up at her friends with a pale face.

  “I don’t feel so good,” she said.

  “You’ll be fine,” Carole told her. She knew Mr. Atwood was waiting, but she also knew no good would come of hurrying Lisa.

  “Oh no,” Lisa said, running into the bathroom. Stevie went with her and stayed with her while Lisa threw up.

  “I can’t see him; I’m sick,” Lisa said.

  “I think you’re nervous,” Stevie said, “Don’t you feel better now?”

  Lisa shook her head. Stevie knew she did feel better, though, because she was no longer sheet-colored.

  “Come on, let’s get you freshened up.” She handed her some paper towels and brought her comb into the bathroom. Two minutes later, Lisa was ready to go.

  “I’m coming over to your house for the sleepover tonight, right, Stevie?” she asked.

  “Right,” Stevie said. “And Carole and I promise not to say one word about horses until you get there. You won’t miss a thing!”

  Lisa smiled weakly. Stevie promised to look after her bags and told her to have a good time with her father. Lisa looked pained again.

  “Lisa? Are you in there, honey?” It was a very familiar voice.

  “Coming, Dad,” she answered.

  Lisa pulled open the door. There was her father, the same man she’d known all her life, the same Dad she’d loved all her life. He was still big, strong, and handsome, and he held his arms out to her for a hug.

  The tears began even before she reached him.

  LISA GOT TO Stevie’s house about eight-thirty. Dinner was over, the dishes were done, and the usual riotous noise was echoing throughout the house. The major difference was that there was no backgammon game in progress. Mr. Lake was watching a documentary on television, and Mrs. Lake was on the phone, but she waved Lisa upstairs. Lisa made it to Stevie’s room, barely missing a flying water balloon. Fortunately Alex caught it in spite of Chad’s hard throw. Chad seemed very disappointed.

  “Whoever misses has to clean it up,” Chad explained.

  Seemed perfectly logical to Lisa. She knocked on Stevie’s door.

  “Stay away, whoever you are!” Stevie grumbled.

  “Unless you’re Lisa,” added Carole.

  “Oh, I thought you were Michael,” Stevie said, welcoming her friend.

  “I figured as much,” said Lisa, closing the door just before a balloon hit it and smashed.

  “That’s not fair!” Chad yowled. “It was a lousy throw!”

  “No, it wasn’t. It was a lousy catch!” Alex countered. Lisa grimaced.

  Stevie leaped for the door. “I’m going to give those brats a piece of my mind!” she snarled.

  “Don’t worry,” Lisa said. “It’s fine and they’re just having fun—at least until your mother finds out.”

  “I suspect she already knows,” said Stevie. “And maybe we’re best off if we just leave the door closed.” She backed off and returned to the pile of pillows she’d made on the floor.

  Lisa flopped onto the bed.

  “So?” Carole said. “Did you have a nice time?”

  “That’s the kind of question mothers ask,” Lisa said, teasing.

  “It must be my maternal instincts,” Carol said. “Tell us how it went.”

  “It was fine,” she said. “No, it was more than that. It was good.”

  “What did you do?” Stevie asked.

  “Talked, mostly. I mean, we went out for pizza and then to the hotel where he’s living now. But we talked. A lot. He wants me to know he loves me.”

  “Of course he loves you,” Stevie said.

  “It didn’t feel like it much over the last week or two,” Lisa said.

  Stevie wished she hadn’t said what she did, but Lisa went on. “Look, it hurts,” she told her friends. “It hurts more now than it did when it first happened.”

  “Maybe you just feel it more now,” Carole suggested.

  Lisa shrugged. “I told him about PJ. He said I’d done something important. He said one day, maybe, I could have my own horse. I don’t think I want to own a horse, though. What if something happened to him?”

  The question hung heavily in the room. Nobody had an answer for it.

  “I wonder how the Wainwrights are doing in Oregon?” Carole asked.

  “Who cares?” Stevie countered. The three of them shared a high five on that.

  The talk tu
rned easily to their favorite subject: Horses. They began by talking about their longeing lesson and then Veronica diAngelo’s latest outrageous behavior, although they actually approved of it, since it seemed that Veronica had mistaken Mrs. Wainwright for a new stable hand. Pretty soon they were laughing about the silly mistakes the youngest riders were making and the mistakes they’d made themselves when they were beginners.

  “I couldn’t believe how many things Max expected me to remember to do at once!” Lisa laughed. “One time he told me eight things I was doing wrong all at the same time! You must have thought I was totally hopeless.”

  “No more than anyone else,” said Carole. “Besides, even though we’d been riding for a while, I think he was telling us each five things at the same time.”

  “He doesn’t miss anything, does he?” Lisa asked.

  “Never!” said Carole. “Isn’t he amazing?”

  “He’s the greatest!” Stevie agreed.

  There was a knock on Stevie’s door. “It’s Mom,” Mrs. Lake identified herself, probably to avoid being threatened with pillows the way Stevie usually greeted her brothers.

  “Come on in,” Stevie said.

  Mrs. Lake entered, handing each of the girls a Popsicle. “We forgot dessert after dinner,” she explained.

  “Thanks,” said Carole and Lisa, accepting the treats.

  Mrs. Lake gave Stevie hers and then made a thumbs-up sign.

  “Thanks, Mom,” said Stevie.

  “Good thinking and good night,” said Mrs. Lake. She left the girls alone.

  “What’s that about?” Carole asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” said Stevie, but Lisa and Carole knew it wasn’t true. Stevie was definitely up to something.

  “I wonder how PJ is doing,” Stevie said.

  Carole winced a little, hoping the thought wouldn’t upset Lisa. “I bet he’s fine,” she said. “He and Mr. Crawford seemed like a really good pair.”

  “Yeah, one who would let his horse run away,” Lisa said.

  “Through a fence that was hit by a car in the middle of the night,” Stevie reminded her. “He really couldn’t help that.”

  “Then why did he run so far?” Lisa asked.

  “He’s naturally skittish, you know. He might even have been hurt by the accident,” said Stevie.

  “Maybe,” Lisa conceded.

  “You know, Max said that there’s a new mare coming to foal at Pine Hollow. I hope she’s nice,” Carole said, changing the subject. The stable kept a valuable stallion named Geronimo, and owners who wanted their mares to breed with him often had them deliver their foals at the stable so that they could be bred right after the foal was born.

  “I love watching foals be born,” Carole continued. “It’s the most exciting thing in the world to think of the whole life that is in that funny-looking sac.”

  “Me too,” said Lisa.

  Carole was relieved to have successfully shifted the topic of conversation. No one mentioned PJ again that night.

  STEVIE HAD A secret. She wasn’t very good at keeping secrets, and she was glad she wasn’t going to have to keep this one for very long. She was the first one up the next morning. Pretty soon the secret would be out.

  “Come on, guys!” she said. “Day’s a-wasting!”

  “What do you mean, ‘day’s a-wasting’?” Carole asked, tossing her pillow at Stevie. “I just closed my eyes. It must be the middle of the night!”

  “We don’t have to be at Pine Hollow until ten this morning,” Lisa reminded her, lofting her pillow across the room toward Stevie as well.

  Stevie caught both pillows and dropped them to the floor.

  “Time to get up. Just because we’re not going to Pine Hollow doesn’t mean we’re not going someplace else,” Stevie told her friends.

  “What are you talking about?” Lisa asked, rubbing her eyes.

  “This isn’t one of those schemes where we have to help you with a science project, is it?” Carole asked.

  “Nope,” Stevie said. “It’s something else altogether, and I’m not sure exactly when I’m going to tell you, but it certainly won’t be when you’re throwing things at me and accusing me of horrible acts.” She was enjoying the suspense immensely.

  “Okay, I’m curious,” Carole said, turning to Lisa. “How about you?”

  “Curious enough to get up,” she admitted. Slowly, but faster than they really wanted, the girls got out of bed and began their morning.

  Fifteen minutes later the three of them appeared in the Lakes’ kitchen, where Mrs. Lake was flipping pancakes.

  “Come on, Stevie, tell us now,” Carole said.

  “Oh, you haven’t told them yet?” Mrs. Lake said. “I didn’t think you’d be able to keep this secret for more than ten minutes.”

  “You’re in on it?” Lisa asked.

  “Not only am I in on it, but I’m driving!”

  Mrs. Lake was no more forthcoming with the secret than her daughter had been. It wasn’t until each girl had consumed two helpings of pancakes (plus bacon and orange juice), cleaned Stevie’s room, gotten together all their riding gear, and hopped into the car that the secret was finally revealed.

  “Well, we’re going to Cross County,” said Mrs. Lake, backing out of the driveway and checking some directions she’d scribbled on a piece of paper.

  That was odd. Since Stevie’s boyfriend, Phil Marsten, lived in Cross County, Mrs. Lake drove there frequently, and she certainly didn’t need directions for that.

  Then Carole remembered and knew that Lisa had never heard it so she wouldn’t know.

  “Really?” Carole asked. Stevie nodded excitedly, knowing her friend had figured it out. “How did you—”

  “Mom called and asked,” said Stevie. “He thought it was a great idea.”

  “You guys going to let me in on this little secret?” Lisa asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Stevie, prolonging the fun. “It’s not a long drive, but I brought a snack for you anyway.” She handed her a brown paper lunch bag.

  “After all those pancakes, I couldn’t eat another thing!” Lisa protested.

  “Well, it’s not really for you,” said Stevie. “Why don’t you go ahead and see what it is.”

  Lisa peered into the crumpled bag. There was a sandwich inside, and she pulled it out. It was peanut butter and jelly. Then she understood.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Really,” said Stevie.

  Lisa tried to keep the tears from her eyes, but it didn’t work. Fortunately there was a napkin in the lunch bag as well.

  It wasn’t a long drive to Mr. Crawford’s farm, and on their way Mrs. Lake told the girls how pleased Mr. Crawford was that they wanted to visit their late charge. He’d told her that Protocol was doing just fine and he’d surely be happy to see his friends.

  Lisa listened, mostly pleased at the surprise Stevie and Mrs. Lake had planned for her. But she was also sad and a little bit worried at the same time. She knew she was still sad that PJ wasn’t ever going to be hers. She was worried because she’d convinced herself that PJ’s owner had mistreated him or he never would have run away, and she was afraid she might cry in front of Mr. Crawford. She blew her nose again and tried to collect herself. She was a mass of confused feelings, but she didn’t have to let the whole world know it.

  Mrs. Lake consulted the directions several more times before she finally turned into a long, tree-lined driveway. It was a real horse farm with wide-plank white board fences surrounding paddocks on either side of the drive. The fences had bordered the roadway for a good half mile before the house. Lisa remembered the story about the drunk driver hitting the fence. Maybe it wasn’t such a crazy notion that Mr. Crawford might not have known for a couple of hours. They were big paddocks, and the road was far from the house.

  PJ wasn’t in either of those paddocks. Mrs. Lake continued up the drive to the house and stable. There were several cars parked in front of the house, plus the van that had been at Pine Holl
ow just over a week before. Mr. Crawford came out of the house and waved toward the Lakes’ car even before it reached the house.

  Lisa noticed for the first time that he had a nice smile.

  “Welcome, caretakers!” he said as the girls climbed out of the car. “Now, you’re Lisa, right?”

  Lisa nodded. She couldn’t help smiling back at him.

  “And you’re Stevie and Carole.”

  They shook his hand.

  “And you must be Catherine Lake,” he said, offering his hand to Stevie’s mother. She shook it. “But of course, I’m not the reason you all came here, am I? Follow me.” He led them to an exercise ring behind the barn.

  Carole and Stevie let Lisa go first, and Mrs. Lake brought up the rear. Mr. Crawford chatted with Lisa as they walked together.

  “He’s doing just fine now. He was loose for a long time, almost six weeks, and those must have been tough times for him.”

  “We thought he got into a fight with a bobcat,” Lisa said.

  “Seems likely to me. Those are nasty scratches he has. He’s going to have scars for the rest of his life.”

  “We did what we could to keep it from scarring,” Lisa told him.

  “Oh, I know you did everything. And from what I hear, you personally did most of it.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Lisa. “Though I did try to help him. I got really worried when the scratches got so swollen and hot. Judy checked on him a lot, you know.”

  “I know,” said Mr. Crawford. “He’s right around this side of the barn,” he said, pointing.

  Lisa hesitated. PJ, her beloved PJ, was just around the corner. The problem was that the horse she was about to see wasn’t actually named PJ, and he wasn’t hers. She’d already forgotten about worrying that Mr. Crawford had abused him. It was clear that he really cared about his horse. Now the only thing Lisa worried about was how much it was going to hurt her to see him again.

  She rounded the corner. It was a nice little exercise ring, about the size of Pine Hollow’s jumping ring. PJ was there. He’d found a shady spot and was nibbling at some sweet sprouts of grass.

  “PJ!” she called. He kept on nibbling. “I’ve got something for you!” His ears flicked. His jaw chomped. He stayed where he was.