High Stakes

by Bonnie Bryant

  “You’re lucky you have only one, instead of three like I do.” Stevie stood and tossed her boots in the general direction of her cubby. One landed inside, while the other bounced off the edge and ended up on the floor. With a loud groan, she hopped over the bench and leaned down to pick it up. She wasn’t actually as annoyed with Alex as she was letting on to Callie. Normally she would have been downright irate if her twin had taken off that way with the car the two of them shared, but these days she was trying to cut him some slack. He wasn’t saying much about the situation between him and Lisa, but she knew it had to be tearing him up to be separated from her, even if it was only temporary. “What about you?” she asked Callie, noticing as she straightened up again that her friend was dressed in breeches and boots. “Have you been training? I didn’t even realize you were here.”

  “I wasn’t.” Callie’s smile faded slightly. “Actually, I just got back from looking at a horse.”

  “Really?” Stevie leaned forward, interested. Now that she was finally recovered from the accident, Callie was shopping for a new competition horse so that she could get back into endurance riding in a serious way. Judging from the expression on Callie’s face, however, the horse she’d just seen wasn’t going to be the one. “A dud?”

  “Sort of.” Callie sighed and stepped farther into the room, tugging distractedly on her long, pale blond ponytail. “This one sounded so perfect on paper, too. Arabian gelding, eight years old, sound and willing. What they didn’t tell me over the phone is that he’s about as balanced as a car with a flat tire.”

  Stevie nodded. She didn’t know nearly as much about endurance riding as Callie did, but she knew enough to know that balance was very important. “Is it something you could work on?”

  Callie shrugged. “Probably,” she said with a frown. “But it would mean serious remedial training. I would have to teach him a whole new way to move, work on getting a rounded outline, the whole nine yards. It hardly seems like a worthwhile use of my time, since I’m sure there must be plenty of horses out there that already have that training, or at least have more natural balance.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Stevie agreed as Max Regnery hustled into the room. He was carrying a small poster, which he hurriedly began tacking to the bulletin board across from the wall of cubbies.

  Callie blew out a long, frustrated sigh. “So why do all my prospects seem to have serious flaws?”

  Stevie wasn’t always the most patient person in the world, but she couldn’t help thinking that Callie sounded awfully pessimistic for someone who had only been seriously shopping for a horse for a few days. Before she could say so, though, Max glanced over at them.

  “I know what you mean,” he said to Callie abruptly. “I’m having the same problem looking for a new stable hand.”

  Stevie blinked at Max in surprise. She’d known that the stable owner was looking for someone to join Pine Hollow’s small full-time staff. She had also noticed that he’d seemed even gruffer and more overworked than usual lately. But until that moment, she hadn’t really connected the two facts. “Really, Max?” she asked. “That’s weird. I would think that all kinds of people would be dying to work here.”

  “Uh-huh,” Max replied grimly. “All kinds. Like a couple of college students looking for beer money who’ve never been inside a stable, and an eighty-two-year-old grandmother who says she loves animals and can handle anything that doesn’t involve too much lifting or walking, and even one young man who admitted—after I wasted ten minutes talking to him, mind you—that he’s ‘sort of’ allergic to horses. Talk about a major flaw!” Max sighed. “Trust me, Callie, you have it easy. I’m starting to think you’d have a better chance of winning the Tevis Cup on a Shetland pony than I do of finding a decent stable worker.”

  Callie smiled uncertainly. “Wow,” she said. “It’s really that bad?”

  “Just about.” Max sighed and ran one callused hand over his short-cropped hair. “It’s just about the worst time of year to be short-staffed, too.”

  “Wait a second.” Stevie was sympathetic to Max’s problems, but that last part sounded kind of odd to her. “What’s the big deal about this time of year? I would think it would be easier to do without someone now than most other times.”

  Max glared at her. “Oh, really, Stevie?” he said sternly. “When was the last time you managed a stable?”

  Stevie shrugged. “Come on, Max,” she said appeasingly. “I’m just saying, it’s not like it would be in spring or summer or even earlier in the fall when there are horse shows and rallies and riding camp and stuff. Even Pony Club doesn’t usually meet after about the first week of December. I mean, a lot of students don’t even ride at all over the holidays.”

  “Exactly.” Max crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her evenly. “And each student that doesn’t bother to ride is one more student who isn’t here exercising horses, grooming them, cleaning tack, mixing grain, bringing down hay, and mucking stalls.”

  Stevie winced, finally getting the point. For as long as she had been riding at Pine Hollow, Max had insisted that all his riders pitch in and help with stable chores, as well as help to care for the horses they rode. It was a good way to teach important skills and responsibilities, but it was also the most effective way of keeping costs down. Stevie knew there were plenty of other riding stables in the area with larger staffs and less grunt work for the riders, but most of them charged almost double the price that Max did for lessons and boarding. “Okay, okay,” she said, holding up both hands and glancing at Callie for help. “I see what you’re saying. But still—”

  “Still,” Max interrupted, “the horses have to eat on Christmas and New Year’s and Thanksgiving, just like every other day of the year. Plus it’s just getting cold, which means keeping track of turnout rugs and deciding who gets clipped and when. Besides, even though Pony Club is suspended, there are still adult lessons to keep track of and boarders’ schedules to deal with. And then of course …” Instead of continuing, Max just waved one hand at the poster he’d just hung on the bulletin board.

  For the first time, Stevie glanced at it. The poster was handwritten in large block letters, which read:

  ALL PERMISSION SLIPS FOR THE STARLIGHT RIDE MUST BE IN BY DEC. 22. NO EXCEPTIONS!

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “The Starlight Ride.” She couldn’t help smiling at the thought of one of her all-time favorite Pine Hollow traditions. Every year on Christmas Eve, a large group of riders set out, guided by torches, for a nighttime trail ride through the woods, culminating in a festive bonfire in the Willow Creek town square, where much of the community turned out to greet the riders. The Starlight Ride was mostly for the younger students at the stable, and Stevie hadn’t gone for the past several years. But she still carried fond memories of trotting through the woods by the soft, flickering light of torches; enjoying the crisp, cool air; singing Christmas carols; and looking forward to having hot chocolate and cookies in front of the roaring bonfire.

  “The Starlight Ride,” Max repeated. He didn’t sound nearly as pleased at the idea. “Yes, it’s a nice tradition, but it’s a lot of work, too.”

  Stevie cocked a eyebrow at him skeptically. “Well, sure,” she said as diplomatically as she could. She could tell Max was in a testy mood, and she didn’t want to antagonize. “I guess that’s true. It’s never easy to control and coordinate a bunch of intermediate and beginning riders on a nighttime trail ride.”

  “That’s not all there is to it, Stevie,” Max snapped.

  Stevie winced. So much for being tactful, she thought ruefully.

  Max wasn’t finished. He was already ticking things off on his fingers. “First, I have to plan ahead to get permits from the township for the bonfire, as well as providing them with proof of insurance so we’ll be allowed to ride within the town limits. Then I have to run off copies of the permission slip for all my students, along with plenty of extras, since about half the students manage to lose theirs before t
hey even get it home.” He frowned and continued. “Then there’s dragging down all the torches from the storage loft and checking to make sure they’re all in working order. Collecting permission slips—that’s always a fun one. And then there’s the details of the ride itself to worry about: checking the tack, making sure the trails are all clear, setting out the torches to mark the trail and assigning volunteers to keep an eye on them so there’s no risk of fire, convincing yet more volunteers to make the refreshments and bring them over to the bonfire. And, of course, I have to arrange for someone to drive the truck over to town, not to mention loading it up with hay first. And then unloading the leftovers afterward.”

  For once, Stevie was at a loss for words. Wow, she thought. I guess I never thought about all that stuff. It really does sound like a big job.

  “Seems like a big hassle,” Callie commented.

  Max shrugged. “It is a hassle,” he said bluntly. “Sometimes I’m not sure it’s really all worth it.”

  Stevie gasped. This time she knew exactly what to say. “Don’t say that, Max,” she protested quickly. “It is worth it. The Starlight Ride is a wonderful thing, and I’m just sorry I took it so much for granted before. We all did, I guess. But I want to make up for that now—I’ll help you out this year. As much as you need me to.”

  “Really?” Max shot her a sharp, thoughtful glance. “Well, I can’t say no to that, Stevie. If you really want to help out, I’d be happy to have you.”

  “I really want to,” Stevie assured him eagerly. Even though she’d only had the idea fifteen seconds before, she was already getting excited about it. She could tell that Max was at his wits’ end—he had to be, if he was questioning the Starlight Ride. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Well, I can’t promise you that,” Max muttered, glancing at his watch. “But thanks. I’ll talk to you more about this later, all right? I can’t stand around here chatting all day. Red and Denise are both off today—some kind of anniversary, how could I say no to that?—and there are a million and one things to do around here as usual.” He hardly bothered to finish the sentence before turning on his heel and striding out of the room without a backward glance.

  Stevie stared after him, letting out a low whistle. “Whew!” she commented. “Max sure is cranky today, isn’t he?”

  Callie glanced at the door, looking distracted. “I guess.”

  Stevie couldn’t help being a little surprised, not only at her friend’s apparent disinterest in Max’s sudden attack of the grumpies, but also at the fact that Callie hadn’t spoken up and volunteered her help for the Starlight Ride as well. If Lisa or Carole had been here, they would have offered to help in a heartbeat, Stevie thought.

  Then she realized that she was being a little unfair. Callie had only lived in Willow Creek for about six months. This would be her first Christmas at Pine Hollow.

  Of course, Stevie thought, a little relieved. She probably never even heard of the Starlight Ride until five minutes ago. She has no idea how special it really is.

  “Hey, Callie,” she said. “You’re probably wondering exactly what this Starlight Ride business is all about, huh?”

  “What?” Callie blinked at her. “Oh. Um, isn’t it, like, a Christmassy sort of trail ride for the younger kids?”

  “Well, sure,” Stevie said brightly. “But it’s more than that. It’s one of Pine Hollow’s totally cherished traditions. See, everyone goes on this cool trail ride on Christmas Eve. For a lot of the younger riders, it’s the first time they’ve ever been out on the trails after sunset. Oh! And by the way, it also explains where Starlight got his name. See, back when we were all in junior high, Carole was, like, dying for her own horse. So her dad decided to buy her one, and he even managed to trick her into taking a test ride on the one he was thinking about getting.…” Seeing that Callie’s blue eyes seemed to be glazing over, Stevie hurried on. “Well, that’s sort of a long story. Anyway, the important part is, he managed to find the perfect horse: Starlight. Only he was called Pretty Boy then.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can you imagine? Talk about a lame name! But anyhow, the night of the Starlight Ride, Carole actually ended up riding him, and she didn’t even know he was hers. Not until afterward, I mean—that’s when the colonel told her. And—”

  “Hi, you two,” Scott Forester said at that moment, stepping into the room.

  Stevie gulped. “Scott,” she blurted out, forgetting all about her story. “Uh, hi. What are you doing here?”

  Scott shrugged. “Waiting for Callie, of course,” he replied. He grinned. “You have a problem with that, Lake?”

  Stevie laughed nervously. “Oh! No, of course not,” she said hastily. “I’m here waiting for Phil myself. We have a date. You know, um, a date.”

  “That’s nice.” Scott leaned against the wall just inside the doorway. “Almost ready to go, Callie?”

  “Almost,” Callie replied, hurrying toward her cubby. “Just let me dig out my spare breeches. I think they’re in here somewhere.”

  As Callie began shuffling through the stuff in her cubby, Stevie smiled awkwardly at Scott. Now that she knew how he felt about her, it was getting harder and harder to act normal around him. I wish this would just go away, she thought desperately. Scott knows how tight Phil and I are. So why’d he have to go and complicate things by getting this huge crush on me? I guess it’s what I get for being so irresistible.…

  “What’s going on, Stevie?” Scott asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Huh?” Stevie gulped, wondering if he’d somehow read her mind. “Uh, what do you mean?”

  Scott shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, gazing at her critically. “You have a weird look on your face, and you’re staring at me like I just grew an extra nose. So spill it. What’s up?”

  “Nothing!” Stevie blurted out, willing herself not to blush. Even Callie was glancing over her shoulder curiously. “Er, I was just, that is, um—”

  “Evening, boys and girls!” Phil Marsten’s voice rang out cheerfully as he walked into the room. “What’s going on?”

  “Hi!” Stevie exclaimed, relieved at the interruption. She raced over to meet her boyfriend with a big hug and kiss. “You’re here!”

  Phil looked a little surprised at the enthusiasm of her greeting, though he didn’t complain. “Right on schedule,” he agreed, tucking a strand of hair behind Stevie’s ear as she clung to him. He glanced at Callie and Scott. “Hey there, Foresters,” he added.

  “So where are you and the little woman off to this evening?” Scott asked Phil, stepping over and clapping him on the shoulder.

  “Oh, we’re not sure yet,” Stevie put in hastily, not wanting Phil to tell him that the two of them had talked about going bowling that night. Even though she loved bowling, it didn’t sound very romantic, and Stevie didn’t want Scott to get the idea that she and Phil were losing the magic. “Probably someplace totally romantic,” she added brightly. “You know what a romantic guy Phil is.” She still had one arm around Phil’s waist, and she squeezed him tightly.

  Phil shot her a strange look, but he didn’t contradict her. “So how’s the horse hunt going, Callie?” he asked instead. “Find the next Tevis Cup champ yet?”

  Callie snorted in reply. “Not even close,” she replied shortly.

  “We’ve been looking,” Scott said easily, obviously trying to make up for Callie’s rather rude response. “But Callie hasn’t seen anything too promising so far.”

  “Bummer,” Phil replied, lifting his arm from Stevie’s waist and resting it casually on her shoulder. “But I’m sure the right horse will come along soon and it’ll all be worth the wait.”

  Callie didn’t respond. She was staring into her cubby so intently that Stevie wasn’t sure she’d even heard Phil’s comment. Deciding it was time for a change of subject, she glanced up at her boyfriend. “So did you hang out with A.J. this afternoon?”

  Phil nodded. “We went for a ride, then watched the game over at my house.”

&
nbsp; “How is he these days?” Scott asked, his carefree expression shifting into one of concern. “Has he started dealing with the adoption thing yet?”

  Stevie thought that was a good question, and not an easy one to answer. A couple of months earlier, A.J. had accidentally discovered that he had been adopted as a baby. The parents who had raised him had never breathed a word about it in sixteen years, and A.J. had taken the news pretty hard. Overnight, he had changed from the high-spirited, funny, likable guy Stevie had always known into an unpredictable stranger, with moods that ranged from frighteningly manic to downright sullen. He’d also seemed on the verge of developing a serious drinking problem, though fortunately his friends had managed to convince him that that wasn’t the way to deal with his pain.

  “He’s doing okay, I think,” Phil replied. “He’s even started talking about tracking down his birth parents.”

  “Really?” Stevie was surprised. The last she’d heard, A.J. was still having trouble discussing the whole topic of his adoption, even with his best friend. “He really said that?”

  “Well, he sort of hinted,” Phil replied. “I can tell he’s got mixed feelings about the whole deal. And he’s nervous, of course.”

  “Sure,” Scott said with a nod. “Anyone would be.”

  Phil nodded and gently extricated himself from Stevie’s grasp. “I tried to convince him to talk to his folks about it,” he said, stepping over to the bench in front of the cubbies and propping one foot on it so that he could reach the laces of his basketball shoe, which had come untied. “Even though it was a closed adoption—you know, as in the whole deal was a big secret, and the McDonnells never even knew the birth mother’s name—they may have some idea how to start looking. And I’m sure they’d be supportive.”

  Stevie wasn’t quite so convinced of that. She liked A.J.’s parents, and she knew they meant well, but they weren’t the most open or demonstrative people in the world. She wondered just how they were going to deal with the idea that their son wanted to uncover his roots. “Poor A.J.,” she said, pushing those thoughts aside. “Did you try to talk him into coming to the CARL thing on Friday? It might cheer him up a little to get out and have some fun with us.”