High Stakes

by Bonnie Bryant

  Stevie frowned. Why was Theresa so gung ho to let Veronica do her own thing when she didn’t seem willing to give Stevie a chance to do anything except rot away in the moldy depths of the school library? It’s typical, she thought petulantly. The rest of us have to work and slave to get what we want. But spoiled brat Veronica gets everything handed to her on a silver platter.

  She didn’t think it would help her cause to point that out to Theresa, though, so she bit her tongue. “Okay,” she said glumly. “I guess I’d better get back downstairs now. Cassidy needs me.”

  As she dragged herself out of the media room and headed for the stairwell, Stevie suddenly realized that there was one bright spot to this news, at least. Veronica is totally Ms. Short Attention Span, she thought hopefully. Once she realizes this column-writing thing actually requires some real work—the kind that might seriously cut into her shoe-shopping and eyebrow-plucking and guy-scamming time—she’ll get sick of it for sure. With any luck, she’ll quit the paper and get out of my life again in a week or two, tops.

  “Who does this stuff when we’re not here?” Carole asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she used a dented metal shovel to clean the soiled floor of one of the dog runs.

  Craig Skippack glanced over at her from the next run, where he was employed in the same task. “They have a whole staff of volunteers,” he explained. “This week, though, most of them are crazed getting ready for the fund-raiser, so I offered to help out with some of the day-to-day stuff as well as the painting and the rest of it.”

  “Oh.” Carole shrugged, deciding that it really wasn’t much different from mucking out stalls at Pine Hollow. And at least it was a change of pace from all the painting she’d been doing. She gently pushed aside the resident of her run, an ancient, gray-muzzled cocker spaniel, so that she could get to the garbage bag just outside. “There you go, boy,” she told the old dog with a pat on the head when she ducked back inside to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. “Nice and clean.”

  The dog responded by sitting up on its hind legs, panting eagerly and waggling his paws in the air.

  Carole laughed with delight. “Look!” she exclaimed. “He can do a trick!” She bent to rub the dog behind the ears, which caused its stub of a tail to wag wildly. “What an old sweetie you are,” she crooned. “And so clever, too!”

  Craig smiled sadly. “Makes you wonder how he ended up here. Did someone just decide to dump him when he got old or when the family got a new puppy?”

  Carole thought that sounded kind of cynical. But then she had to admit that it seemed odd for such a nice old dog to end up in the shelter. “How could anyone not want you?” she murmured, bending down to give the dog a hug. “I don’t understand how people can be so selfish.”

  At that moment the sound of footsteps rang out from the cement-floored hallway outside the runs. Carole glanced up, expecting to see another Hometown Hope worker coming to see how they were doing. Instead, she saw Cam. He was wearing jeans, heavy work boots, and a broad smile.

  “Surprise!” he called to her, stopping in front of the dog run. “I thought I’d swing by and see if you guys needed any more help.”

  Carole gasped and quickly looked over at Craig. “Um, this is my … my friend, Cam Nelson,” she said shyly. “Is it okay if he helps us out for a while?”

  Craig smiled agreeably. “Hey, I’m not going to turn down a volunteer,” he said. “Welcome, Cam. Help yourself to a shovel and a garbage bag.”

  “Will do.” Cam grabbed the necessary equipment, then stepped to the door of the run beside Carole’s. “Do I just go in? These dogs don’t bite, do they?”

  “Not in this room,” Craig replied, already moving on to the next dirty run. “These are the dogs that are ready for adoption. The behavior problems are in a separate area.”

  Carole couldn’t stop staring at Cam as he let himself into the run. He paused just long enough to scratch its resident, a gangly half-grown mixed-breed puppy, under the chin. She couldn’t quite believe he was really there. And it’s not like he’s here for the thrill of scraping dog poop off the floor, she told herself. He’s here because he wants to spend time with me. Me!

  She was so overwhelmed by the idea that she felt tongue-tied, uncertain what to say to this guy—her boyfriend!—now that he was standing there in the flesh. Fortunately Cam didn’t seem to be suffering similar problems. He immediately began chatting away as he worked, describing his day at school and telling Carole a funny story about his gym teacher, and before she knew it, she was laughing and chatting right back.

  She was so wrapped up in their conversation that she hardly noticed when Craig was called out of the room by another volunteer, leaving her and Cam alone with the dogs. A few minutes later the two of them met in the hallway outside the last set of runs.

  “Looks like we’re about done here,” Cam commented, glancing down the row.

  Carole looked, too, and realized he was right. More than a dozen dogs were gazing at them eagerly, tails wagging, from clean runs. She wiped her hands on her jeans and reached for the garbage bag they’d just filled. “I guess we should go find out what we’re supposed to do next.”

  “Okay.” Cam stepped closer as she tied off the garbage bag and set it with the others. “But first things first. We never got a chance for a proper hello.”

  Carole’s heart started to pound as she realized what he meant. As Cam dropped his shovel against the wall, Carole tipped her head back. She knew she was supposed to close her eyes—Cam’s were closed as his lips touched hers—but she couldn’t seem to stop staring at the incredibly handsome, smart, funny guy who was kissing her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  How did my life change so much in just a couple of days? she wondered giddily, wrapping her arms around Cam’s neck. It’s like everything has suddenly gone from black and white to full color.

  She wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed when their kiss was interrupted by the clanging sound of someone opening a cage in the next room. Startled, she jumped back. “Oh!” she said. “Um, I guess we should get back to work now.”

  Cam looked reluctant, but he nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Lead the way.”

  Carole felt self-conscious as she walked down the aisle toward the next room. It was unnerving enough that she could practically feel Cam’s eyes on her—crooked braid, grungy jeans, and all—but with fourteen sets of canine eyes following her as well, she really felt like a movie starlet parading in front of an audience with her studly leading man.

  “We should probably find Craig,” Carole said, figuring that talking was the best way to cover up her weird, jumpy feelings. She started through the surgery room, which was empty at the moment. “He’s in charge of the whole group, so he’ll be able to tell us where he needs our—eep!” Cam had suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and was pulling her toward one side of the room. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Shhh!” Cam said with a grin, putting a finger to his lips. “Over here.” He pulled her into a large supply closet at one end of the room and shut the door behind them. Only the light coming through the crack under the door allowed her to see Cam gazing down at her. “I just need to be alone with you for a while.”

  Carole felt a thrill run through her. “Oh!” she breathed, gasping slightly as Cam wrapped his arms around her waist. But then she frowned. “Wait, but we can’t,” she protested, pushing at his chest as he dipped his head toward her. “We’re supposed to be working. The shelter has to be ready by Friday, and they need every person they can—”

  Cam cut her off by covering her mouth with his own. Carole knew she should pull away, force him to get back out there and work. There really was a lot to do, and it wasn’t fair for them to slack off when the others were counting on them. Not to mention what would happen if they got caught. But somehow, as she sank into his kiss, those things didn’t seem quite so important anymore.

  “What do you say, boy?” Lisa said as she fastened
the buckle on the throatlatch of Topside’s bridle. “Ready to head out for a nice quiet trail ride, just the two of us? We don’t need anyone else to have fun, right? Just being by ourselves is rewarding in its own way, wouldn’t you say?”

  The handsome bay gelding didn’t seem to have an opinion one way or the other, so Lisa fastened the noseband and then checked over the rest of the tack. She’d been thinking all day about what it meant to be single, and had decided to experiment with enjoying life on her own by going on a solo trail ride. She had already checked in with the stable office, telling Denise where she planned to ride and also making a note on the calendar. That way the stable staff would know approximately what time she’d set out, so that if Topside wasn’t back in his stall within a couple of hours, they would know there was trouble. Max wasn’t crazy about his riders hitting the trails by themselves, and he didn’t allow the younger students to go beyond the stable yard without a partner. But he grudgingly allowed the more advanced riders like Lisa to ride alone as long as they followed the rules.

  “There we go,” Lisa murmured as she brought the reins over the horse’s head, took hold, and got him moving. “Let’s head out.” She was trying not to feel too weird about what she was doing. It wasn’t as if she’d never ridden alone before. But this was different. She wasn’t merely working on something she was having trouble with or exercising her horse when her friends weren’t available. No, this time she was making a point of going for a pleasure ride all by herself, just for the heck of it.

  No big deal, she thought, leading Topside down the aisle toward the entrance. The well-mannered Thoroughbred followed calmly. Other people do it all the time. Carole doesn’t always wait around for someone else to show up and ride with her. Why should I worry about it so much?

  Soon she was mounted up and riding around the schooling ring. On the far side, where the driveway met the hard-packed stable yard, she pulled Topside to a halt, glancing uncertainly from side to side. Should she head across the back fields to one of the wooded trails? Or just circle the front pasture a few times, maybe explore the little patch of trees near the road?

  “If I’m going to do this, I might as well do it right,” she muttered. She’d written in her note on the calendar that she was planning to take the mountain trail—one of her favorites—and she should just stick with that.

  Turning Topside toward the big south pasture, she urged him into a brisk walk. Once they’d gone through the gate, she signaled for a trot and then a canter.

  The afternoon was still and cold, but at the relatively fast pace, Lisa’s blond hair whipped out behind her, streaming back from beneath the edge of her riding helmet. The air streamed across her cheeks and chin, numbing them slightly and making her eyes water.

  Lisa hardly noticed the slight discomfort, though. She had been struck with a sudden joyous, exhilarating feeling of freedom. She realized she didn’t have to check with anyone else before changing paces; she didn’t have to try to catch up or force herself to wait for anyone. She could change her mind about which trail to take and not have to worry that someone might disagree. It was just her and her horse, free to go wherever they wanted, do whatever they wanted, anytime they wanted. And it felt good.

  All too soon, they reached the other end of the field and entered the woods. Lisa reluctantly pulled Topside back to a walk and the gelding obeyed, though he tossed his head once or twice as if protesting the sedate pace.

  “I know how you feel, boy,” Lisa said, leaning forward to pat him on the neck. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

  She glanced ahead at the well-worn path that wound its way into the woods to the southwest. It had been dubbed the mountain trail years ago by Pine Hollow’s riders, though Lisa had always thought that mountain was an awfully grand name for the low, time-softened foothills that rose in the forest a few miles from the stable. Over near Cross County, where Phil and A.J. rode, the countryside was wilder and there were some mountains that deserved the name, but as far as Lisa was concerned, Willow Creek’s “mountains” were little more than bulges in the landscape. Regardless of the name, Lisa had always been partial to the mountain trail, though her friends preferred the smoother tangle of trails that more or less followed the meanderings of the creek.

  Lisa felt herself relaxing as she rode, enjoying the solitude of the winter woods. This late in the fall the calling of birds was sporadic and muted, and most of the time there was no sound at all other than the peaceful rustling of bare branches, the crunching of Topside’s hooves moving through dry, drifted fallen leaves, and the horse’s deep, even breathing. She’d been riding for nearly half an hour when the silence was marred by the faint sound of voices and laughter from someone ahead of her on the trail. Oh, great, Lisa thought with a rueful smile. Just what I need—a bunch of goofy, giggly intermediate riders wanting to stop and chat.

  But when Topside rounded the next bend in the trail, the smile froze on her face. Instead of Rachel Hart or May Grover, Lisa instantly recognized Alex riding toward her about sixty yards ahead. He was aboard Chippewa, his favorite mount. And right beside him on the trail was Talisman, one of Max’s best horses—with Nicole Adams in the saddle!

  Alex obviously didn’t see Lisa. He was looking at Nicole, his hand position sloppy and his heels bouncing all over the place as he grinned at her unabashedly. Nicole’s riding position was a lot better, but she, too, was focusing more on her riding partner than on her horse. Lisa watched as the other girl fluttered her long, dark eyelashes at Alex.

  Wow, Lisa thought, her mind strangely detached from the disturbing scene, I didn’t know people actually did that in real life.

  She wasn’t sure what to do. Alex and Nicole—riding together? It had to be a date. Understanding hit her all at once, her mind spinning and the breath leaving her body as suddenly as if Topside had just given her a swift kick in the gut. Alex was out on a date with someone else.

  It hasn’t even been a week, she thought in stunned disbelief. And here he is, already having a grand old time with another girl. Isn’t he as torn up about our breakup as I am? Doesn’t he care? Can he really like hanging out with someone like her?

  The thoughts and emotions passed through her in a matter of seconds, only long enough for Topside to take another few steps forward. When his hoof landed on a twig, it snapped it loudly. That was when Alex finally glanced forward and spotted Lisa. The smile froze on his face, and his grip on the reins tightened so suddenly that Chip tossed his head in annoyance.

  Lisa held his gaze for a long moment as their horses continued toward each other, oblivious to their riders’ distress. It was the most awkward moment Lisa could imagine, and she wasn’t sure what to do.

  I could start yelling and screaming about how he’s cheating on me, even though he’s really not, she thought. Or I could burst into tears and make a big fool of myself that way. That would be productive. Or … Or I could try to be an adult about this.

  The last option seemed impossible at first. How could she just accept this and act like it was no big deal? This was Alex—the guy who had brought her back to life after her parents’ divorce, the friend and confidant who’d listened to all her hopes and dreams and fears ever since. How could she be mature about the realization that she wasn’t his whole world anymore, that he could just go out and find someone else after only a few days apart?

  But as her horse approached the others with his ears pricked forward curiously, she knew she had to try. With great effort, she forced a pleasant smile onto her face. “Hi, Alex,” she said. “Hi, Nicole. How’s it going?” Her lips felt so numb and stiff that she was afraid her words would be unintelligible, but to her surprise her voice sounded almost normal.

  Alex looked a little surprised, too. But he nodded. “Hey, Lisa,” he said, so softly that the words were almost lost in the sound of the leaves rustling beneath the horses’ feet.

  “What’s up?” Nicole added politely.

  Lisa glanced over at her. She had hardly been awa
re of the other girl since first spotting the couple, but now she saw that Nicole obviously didn’t share Alex’s discomfort with the situation. She gazed directly at Lisa with a curious little half smile on her face. Her pretty, pretty face …

  Shuddering slightly, Lisa turned away. She didn’t want to get into any of that. This wasn’t about Nicole, not really. It was about her and Alex.

  She carefully maintained her calm expression until they had passed each other, Nicole steering Talisman behind Chip to make room on the trail. For a few minutes after that, Lisa kept Topside at a steady walk, willing herself not to glance back over her shoulder. Finally she rounded another steep curve in the trail, guaranteeing that the others would be out of sight. Pulling Topside to a stop, she felt her posture crumble as she slumped over in the saddle, her whole body shaking. Topside shifted his feet nervously for a moment, but then he seemed to realize that they were taking a break and he lowered his head, snuffling around at the edges of the trail for any remaining greenery.

  Lisa was hardly aware of what her horse was doing. She was busy replaying the meeting with Alex and Nicole in her head. It was unreal. How could someone like Alex, someone she’d thought she knew as well as she knew herself, move on so quickly, as if they’d never been in love at all?

  She had no idea. But as upset as she was, somehow she didn’t quite feel ready to head home and join her mother on the couch, drowning her sorrows in cookies and old movies.

  No way, she thought, gathering her reins and sitting a little straighter in the saddle as she prepared to ride on. I’m not Mom. I’m not going to fall apart because of this. If Alex can move on, so can I.

  EIGHT

  It was so warm in her algebra classroom that Carole was having trouble staying awake, let alone focusing on polynomial equations or whatever it was that Mr. Whiteside was droning on and on about. Stifling a yawn, she shifted in her seat and drifted back into the daydream she’d been having, off and on, in almost every class so far that day.