Quarter Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  “A mighty fine run for Ms. Stevie Lake!” the announcer called. “Give her a big hand, and we’ll have our winners in just a minute.”

  The crowd clapped for Stevie. Several wild cheers rang out from the wagon train contingent. Lisa and Carole looked at each other, wondering if Stevie had been fast enough to beat Gabriel. If Stevie didn’t win this event, there would be no way she could win the rodeo, and her bet with Gabriel would be over.

  “Oh, please,” Lisa whispered, closing her eyes and crossing her fingers. “Let her win this one!”

  Suddenly the ring announcer’s voice broke the expectant stillness of the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “I’m pleased to announce that this year’s pole bending champ is none other than Ms. Stevie Lake from Willow Creek, Virginia!”

  Though Carole and Lisa knew they weren’t supposed to cheer, they leaned over from their horses and gave each other a hug. Again they could hear Mr. Cate’s shrill whistle ringing out over Karen Nicely’s wildly clanging cowbell.

  “Now they’re tied,” said Carole. “Whoever wins the quarter-mile race will win it all!”

  “GOOD BOY, TUMBLEWEED!” Stevie said to the sweaty quarter horse as she led him to the trough for a long drink of water. From the arena she could hear the rodeo crowd laughing at one of Sal and Lisa and Carole’s routines, while just ahead of her a tractor smoothed the surface of the track in preparation for the quarter-mile race. There was a fifteen-minute break, during which the clowns would entertain the crowd and then help them relocate around the track. The break also served as a rest period for the horses and riders who’d competed in the previous events.

  “You’ve been such a good horse!” Stevie reached over and patted Tumbleweed’s lathered shoulder as he slurped long swallows of water. “Everything that’s gone wrong has been my fault.”

  Stevie knew very well that the day’s mistakes had, indeed, been hers. Tumbleweed had performed perfectly, from racing after the goat at just the right speed to holding the calf tightly on the line while Stevie tried to tie his feet. “I guess I’m just not too hot with four-legged nonhorse creatures,” she said with a shrug.

  She looked at Tumbleweed. “But I’m real good when it’s just me alone, and we’re great together!” She grinned as Tumbleweed raised his head from the water trough, his chin dripping. “Now we’ve just got one more event to go. If we can win this race, it won’t matter how badly I wrestle goats or rope calves!”

  She led Tumbleweed to the concession trailer and leaned against him as Carole and Lisa chased Sal around the arena, trying to rope her with string they squirted out of a can. She smiled as she watched her friends clowning for the crowd and making everyone laugh. “I bet Phil’s not doing anything like that right now,” she whispered. “I bet he’s probably paddling down some river with Meghan or Chelsea or whatever her name is. She’s wearing some really cute outfit, and they’re probably planning their next vacation together, which will be something really glamorous and exciting, like climbing the Himalayas.” Just at that moment Tumbleweed shifted on his feet and gave a big sigh. “I know exactly how you feel, boy,” Stevie said sadly as she rubbed the horse behind his ears.

  “Hi, Stevie.”

  Stevie looked up to see Eileen, dressed in her pioneer clothes and holding a cone of pink cotton candy.

  “Hi, Eileen,” she replied.

  “I saw you try to wrestle that little goat. You were pretty funny. Everybody laughed at you.”

  “Oh, really?” Stevie’s cheeks started to burn—not at the thought of the crowd laughing at her, but at the thought of Mr. Hotshot Rodeo Star Gabriel laughing at her.

  “Yes, it was really funny.” Eileen bit into her cotton candy. “I laughed the hardest.”

  “I bet you did, Eileen.” Stevie took off her cowboy hat and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

  “You know, I still know that secret,” Eileen began again.

  “What secret?”

  “The one I tried to tell you this morning.”

  Stevie frowned. “You mean when you came over to the wagon and bugged us while we were trying to get ready?”

  Eileen nodded.

  “I thought you were making up that secret business just to be a pest.”

  “No,” said Eileen. “I really do have a secret.”

  “Sorry, Eileen.” Stevie turned back toward Tumbleweed. “I don’t think you could possibly know anything that I would be the least bit interested in learning.”

  “You never know,” Eileen taunted her. “I mean, I might know something that you might need to know, because if you didn’t, something terrible might happen.”

  “Go watch the rodeo, Eileen,” Stevie said as she checked Tumbleweed’s right front shoe. “Go see what the clowns are doing.”

  “And then if something terrible happened and you didn’t know because you hadn’t bothered to ask …”

  “Eileen, I—”

  “And then you’d really feel horrible if—”

  “All right!” Stevie said so sharply that Tumbleweed jumped. “I give up! Eileen, whatever this vitally important secret is, please, just go ahead and spit it out now!”

  Eileen started to poke out her lower lip in her usual pout but then changed her mind. “Okay.” She took a step toward Stevie and spoke just above a whisper. “This is what I overheard Gabriel telling Shelly Bean at lunch the other day. He told Shelly that you two had a bet, and whoever won the most rodeo events would get to make the other perform a secret dare.”

  Stevie rolled her eyes and slapped her hat back on her head. “Sorry, Eileen, but that’s old news. I was there when we made the bet. I already know all that stuff.”

  “But wait. There’s more. I heard what Gabriel’s secret dare is!” Eileen’s green eyes glittered.

  Stevie looked at Eileen and frowned. As much as she disliked the idea of getting any information at all from this bratty little girl, Gabriel’s secret dare was something worth knowing. “What?” she finally asked reluctantly.

  Eileen grinned. “Gabriel’s going to dare you to be his date for the big barbecue dinner tonight, and he wants to make you rush up and give him a big kiss when he accepts his first-prize award!”

  “What?” Stevie was stunned. She grew first hot, then cold, and her head spun. This was far worse than anything she had ever imagined! She had thought she would just make Gabriel put on her pioneer dress and milk Veronica. She figured he would make her do something like saying over and over that he was the best rodeo rider in the world while she cleaned out Napoleon’s stall. She had no idea Gabriel would want to make her kiss him! And worse, in front of everybody!

  No way! She turned and furiously checked all the buckles on Tumbleweed’s tack. Nohow! She smoothed Tumbleweed’s saddle blanket and gave him a brisk pat on his rump. They were going to win this race. Even if she had to carry Tumbleweed across the finish line on her back, she would do it to avoid having to kiss Gabriel!

  “All quarter-mile racers, please report to the track,” said the ring announcer’s voice.

  Stevie hopped up on Tumbleweed. She looked down at Eileen, whose mouth was now ringed with pink cotton-candy stains. “Thanks, Eileen. You’ve just let me know how much is at stake in this race.”

  “So it was a pretty good secret, huh?” Eileen asked proudly.

  “Eileen, it was one of the best I’ve heard in a long time. Now go find your parents and watch me beat Gabriel.”

  “Oh, goody!” Eileen said as she scurried off to the grandstand.

  Stevie and Tumbleweed trotted over to the starting line, steering clear of the angry bull, which was still snorting at everyone who came near his pen. Stevie saw that Carole and Lisa and Sal were clowning on horseback, leading the crowd from the arena stands and out toward the track so that they could watch the race more closely. Lisa and Sal had exited the grandstand at the far end of the arena while Carole had ridden out closer to Stevie. She and Pogo stood between the starting line and the pen that held the cantankerous bull
. Stevie waved at Carole, who waved back and then started making kicking motions with her feet. Stevie frowned and looked down at her boots. What was Carole trying to tell her? Had she stepped on a candy wrapper or something?

  “Riders, take your places behind the starting line, please!” A man wearing a black ten-gallon hat was speaking through a bullhorn. Stevie forgot about her boots and trotted Tumbleweed up to a tape that stretched across the track. Mary Corona, riding her pinto, was already there, as were some riders Stevie didn’t recognize. She was just beginning to wonder where Gabriel was when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

  “Hey, Miss I Can Pin a Goat to the Ground in Eight Seconds! How’s it going?” Gabriel laughed and pulled Napoleon up right beside her. Stevie had never realized how much bigger Napoleon was than Tumbleweed, and how his coat seemed to glitter like gold in the sun. Gabriel reined him back a little. “I had no idea you were going to go for laughs in the goat wrestling. I thought your friends were supposed to be the clowns today!”

  “They needed some help in that event, Mr. Can’t Bend a Pole or Race a Barrel Too Fast,” Stevie snapped back. “The crowd was getting bored with a certain contestant taking all these grand tours of the arena, waving to them on his golden palomino!”

  “They seemed to like it,” Gabriel replied. “Although I have to admit, it wasn’t as funny as watching you and that goat flop around in the dust!” He laughed again and eyed Stevie’s filthy cowboy shirt. “Too bad about your nice clean shirt.”

  “Too bad about yours, too,” she said sadly.

  “Mine?” Gabriel frowned and looked down at his almost spotless white shirt.

  “Yeah.” Stevie grinned. “In about two minutes it’s going to be covered in my dust when this race begins. By the time we cross the finish line, you’ll be able to write your initials across it!”

  “Oh, right,” Gabriel snorted. “In your dreams.” He pulled his hat down over his eyes and gave Napoleon’s golden shoulder a pat.

  “More like in my nightmares if you’ve got anything to do with them,” Stevie snapped back, getting mad all over again at the idea of him making her kiss him.

  “Riders, get ready to go!” the man with the bullhorn announced. “Halfway around the track is a quarter mile.” He lifted the starting gun.

  Suddenly the riders grew silent and concentrated on the stretch of track ahead of them. Even the horses quivered with anticipation, eager to burst down the track as fast as they could go. Farther away, by the first turn, Stevie could see Sal and Lisa sitting on their horses, looking toward them, waiting for the race to begin. How proud they would be when she won! She leaned low and forward in the saddle and grasped the reins tightly, waiting for the blast of the starting gun. She had turned her head one last time to shoot a menacing scowl at Gabriel when suddenly an odd movement caught her eye. Just behind Carole and Pogo, the angry bull was hooking the flimsy fence with his horns. The fence wobbled, then sagged to the ground. The bull was free! He leaped forward and pawed the ground once as he sniffed the air, then lowered his head and began to charge. And he began to charge straight at Carole and Pogo!

  THE CRACK OF the starting gun split the air. All the other horses sprang forward. Tumbleweed’s first impulse was to do the same, but Stevie reined him hard to the left. Immediately he obeyed, pivoting with his quarter horse agility.

  “Come on, Tumbleweed!” She squeezed with her legs and urged him forward, faster than she’d ever wanted him to go before, but he seemed stuck in his regular lope. Though it was fast, it wasn’t nearly fast enough to get to Carole in time.

  “Come on, Tumbleweed,” she said again. She leaned closer to him and squeezed him again, but it did no good. It was as if he were stuck going fifty miles an hour when he could easily have gone eighty. Then Stevie remembered something Pete had told her. “Don’t use your spurs on Tumbleweed unless you want him to take off like a rocket.” Your spurs! That was what Carole had been trying to signal her right before the race! Instantly Stevie jammed her heels into Tumbleweed’s side. He hesitated for an instant, then leaped across the track faster than he’d ever gone before. His flying mane whipped Stevie’s face, but she maintained her race position—low and forward in the saddle. Some of the spectators, astonished by her actions, were just beginning to realize what was happening. Several people had seen the bull and began running away from the track, their children clutched in their arms.

  From the corner of her eye, Stevie could see that Lisa and Sal had also spotted the trouble Carole was in and had begun to race toward her. The other rodeo clowns were scrambling from the adult arena to help, and the pickup cowboys were galloping to the exit at the end of the arena. Still, Stevie was closest to the bull. She was the only one who could reach Carole in time.

  Tumbleweed was now halfway across the track. Though Carole and Pogo were trying to side-pass around the bull, he had them trapped in the corner between the grandstand and the back of the concession trailer. They had no room to maneuver, and his deadly horns were getting closer and closer. Carole kept Pogo moving from side to side, but Stevie could already see the whites showing around Pogo’s terrified eyes. If Pogo grew any more frightened, she could panic and buck Carole off, leaving her totally defenseless in front of the bull.

  Frantically, Stevie racked her brain. Why hadn’t she listened when Carole and Lisa had talked about clowning? What had they said clowns did when bulls went crazy? Banged on a barrel or something like that. But Stevie had no barrel to bang on. All she had was Tumbleweed and herself. “Think!” she whispered as they thundered closer to the bull. “Think!”

  Stevie was almost there. She could see white foam curling from Pogo’s mouth. She jammed her heels into Tumbleweed’s side again. He bore down and went even faster. “Hey!” Stevie screamed at the bull at the top of her lungs. “Hey! Bossy! Over here!”

  The bull paid no attention. He kept moving closer and closer to Carole, now snorting, now shaking his horns from side to side. “Hey!” Stevie yelled again. Then she spied Sal’s big red scarf lying on the ground. Sal must have dropped it after she’d lured the bull into the pen the first time around. If that scarf had worked with this bull once, maybe it would work again.

  Stevie shifted her weight slightly to the left and leaned low in the saddle, using the same motions she’d used when she was trying to slide off Tumbleweed on top of the goat. Instinctively Tumbleweed veered slightly to the left, carrying Stevie closer to the scarf. In all her life she’d never leaned so low to the ground on horseback before, but with one swooping motion, clinging to the saddle horn, she stretched her left arm out as far as it would go. Her fingertips grazed the silky red material. She stretched to her absolute limit and tried to grab it. She got it! She clutched it in her hand as she pulled herself back into the saddle and urged Tumbleweed forward again. She wondered for a moment whether Tumbleweed would sense Pogo’s fear and balk at running so close to the bull. Most horses would flee from an animal that was snorting and bellowing in rage. But the little quarter horse didn’t flinch. He galloped on, obeying her commands without question.

  Stevie pointed him straight at the bull’s side, then reined him up about ten feet away. “Hey, Ferdinand!” Stevie yelled at the bull. “Look at this!” She flapped the red scarf. The bull saw it out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. For a moment his vicious horns pointed away from Carole and Pogo.

  “Hey, Ferdinand!” Stevie called again. “Toro, toro, toro!” She loosened her grip on Tumbleweed’s reins and held the scarf out beside her the way a bullfighter would hold a cape. Jiggling one end of the scarf, she waved it back and forth in front of the bull. He looked at it for a moment, then turned the rest of his huge body to face it. That gave Carole and Pogo enough room to leap out of the corner where they’d been trapped. Carole stopped Pogo just beyond the reach of the bull’s horns, then began to wave her derby at him from the other direction.

  For a few more seconds the girls worked hard to keep the bull flustered. The bull didn’t
know which one to try to gore first, so he just stood there, shaking his horns at both of them and pawing the ground. After what seemed like hours, the adult team of rodeo clowns made it through the grandstand. They jumped around and further confused the bull, then joined hands and made a shield in front of Stevie and Carole while the two cowboys arrived and threw lassos around the bull’s neck. Finally realizing he was outnumbered and roped, the bull gave one last bellow and allowed the cowboys to lead him back to the main stock trailer.

  “Are you girls okay?” one of the clowns asked after the bull had been led away.

  “I think so.” Stevie looked at Carole and Pogo. They both seemed shaken.

  “Maybe you two should go and take it easy for a little while,” the clown suggested. “Petunia can be a handful when he gets riled up, but you two did a great job containing him.”

  Stevie frowned. “That bull’s name is Petunia?”

  The clown shrugged. “So go figure. I guess whoever named him didn’t know too much about cattle.”

  “Whatever.” Stevie chuckled with relief. She handed Sal’s red scarf to the clown and trotted over to Carole. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” said Carole. “But let’s go somewhere else. Pogo and I need to get as far away from Petunia as we possibly can.”

  The two girls rode over to Lisa and Sal. Though it seemed to Stevie that the whole incident had taken hours, in reality it had ended in less than a minute. Lisa and Sal had galloped at full speed from the other end of the track, and they were just now arriving.

  “Stevie! Carole! Are you two all right?” Lisa looked sickly pale. Her eyes were wide with fear.

  “We’re okay,” said Stevie, although her mouth was dry and her heart was thumping like a drum.