“No, we don’t mean that,” Mr. Slattery said.
Stevie’s heart sank.
“Dinah won’t be allowed to ride for a month,” he told Stevie. “I mean a month after all her cuts and bruises heal.”
A month? It seemed like a lifetime, but it wasn’t; it was just a month. Dinah would be riding again before summer!
Stevie tried not to look too happy. After all, she didn’t want the Slatterys to get the idea that she didn’t think that was a harsh punishment.
“I want to change my clothes now,” Dinah said. “Help me upstairs, will you?” she asked Stevie. Stevie was only too happy to do so. She had to get out of there before she grinned!
“Isn’t it great?” Dinah asked as soon as the door to her room was closed. “It was all I could do to keep from cheering. I was just sure they’d tell me I couldn’t ride at all. My parents are really okay.”
“It’s almost too bad you didn’t get a chance to hear the speech I’ve been working on since I got home. It’s a convincing one, but it centers a lot on the idea that banning you from horseback riding for the rest of your life is too cruel. There’s even a point in it where I suggest that a year would be sufficient!”
“Keep it to yourself!” Dinah said. She put on some clean clothes and then the two girls collapsed on the twin beds in the room in total relief.
“I’ve been thinking about Jodi,” Stevie began hesitantly.
“Me, too,” Dinah said.
“I’ve been thinking that she was wrong, too.”
“You bet she was,” Dinah said, anger rising in her voice. It surprised Stevie, who had expected that Dinah would defend Jodi.
“She shouldn’t have let us go out on the trail, and she shouldn’t have asked us to keep the secret.”
“That, too,” Dinah said.
“What else?” Stevie asked.
“What she said to me that night …,” Dinah began.
Stevie thought back to the cool night outside the Sugar Hut when the clearing was filled with all the kids playing Frisbee by moonlight. Everybody there was laughing and having fun—everybody except Dinah.
“Is that what made you cry?” Stevie asked.
Dinah nodded. Stevie could tell from the way she was talking that even now the memory was painful. She didn’t cry, however. She just talked.
“Jodi found me outside, behind that tree. She’d figured the reason we’d gone outside was because I didn’t want to take off any overclothes and show my cuts. I guess she was afraid I’d change my mind, so she came over to convince me it wouldn’t be a good idea to change my mind.”
“What did she say that upset you so much?” Stevie asked.
“She told me that if I told anybody, she’d see to it that I’d never ride Goldie again. She also said that I probably didn’t deserve to ride Goldie anyway because if I couldn’t stay on a horse like Goldie, I was never going to be a good rider. I had this awful picture of spending the rest of my life riding in circles in a little ring. I’m on a pony and Jodi Hale has the lead rope. It was just awful! She swore it was going to happen, too!”
“That’s so mean!” Stevie said. “No wonder you were crying. And no wonder you didn’t want to tell me. Well, let me tell you something: I may not be the best rider in the world, but I’m pretty good, and I’ve had a lot of experience. Just about nobody could have stayed on Goldie at that moment. If a horse is totally determined to lose his rider, he’s going to lose his rider, and I never saw a horse more determined than Goldie was right then. I couldn’t have stayed on him. Even Carole Hanson would have gone flying. The miracle was that you stayed on through that trememdous rear. You were fabulous!”
“I was?” Dinah looked astonished.
“You were. And you are.” Stevie gave her a very careful hug. “You’ll be riding again soon, and you’ll be better than ever. And if I’m any judge of sap, you may even be riding Goldie.”
“You think so?”
Stevie nodded. Then she shrugged. “Let’s put it this way: I hope so.”
“You know what the best news is about today’s whole mess?” Dinah asked.
“You’ll be riding before summer,” Stevie said.
“Maybe, but even before that, the best news is that I won’t have to wear my hair over half my face anymore!”
“You don’t like the latest hairstyle à la Mademoiselle Stevie?” Stevie asked, pretending to be hurt. Then she shifted into the character of Mademoiselle Stevie. “Wees zees air-style, Mademoiselle Dinah could be zee belle of zee balle, eef only zare were a balle to be a belle of!”
“Oh, but there is!” Dinah declared, her eyes suddenly lighting up in realization.
“A ball?” Stevie asked, reverting to her usual self.
“Yes, tonight is the annual Sugaring Off Square Dance!”
They had both completely forgotten all about it. Now they had only a few hours to get ready. Dinah headed for her closet; Stevie made a beeline for the curling iron.
SUGARBUSH STABLES SEEMED to have been completely transformed. Stevie almost didn’t recognize it when she got there that night with Dinah and her family for the Sugaring Off Square Dance. For one thing, the outside of the stable was festooned with hanging lanterns. It looked downright summery—except for all the snow on the ground. The lamps swayed in the gentle breeze, and the light danced invitingly on the snow.
The girls had spent the afternoon and early evening putting together their outfits for the night, when they weren’t on the phone with Betsy, explaining everything. As the whole story unraveled, Stevie and Dinah felt awful about a lot of things, but the worst part was having lied to a friend.
“I was worried,” Betsy said. “I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.” She told them she’d also suspected Jodi was part of it. “That made it even worse because anything to do with Jodi that’s a secret has got to be bad news. I’m just glad it came out all right.”
“You’re not angry with me?” Dinah asked.
“No,” Betsy assured her. “How could I be? In spite of everything, with Stevie on our team, I think we’ve got a chance to win. Who needs you?” she teased. “Anyway, I know that what you did wasn’t easy. Keeping a secret is tough, but it’s not as tough as letting it out. You might have just saved my parents, and Mr. Daviet. I ought to be thanking you.”
“You’re welcome, but I promise we’ll never do it again.”
“Deal,” Betsy said. “See you tonight!”
Stevie and Dinah then turned their attention to their makeovers, or in Dinah’s case, her unmakeover. Although Stevie was most comfortable in jeans, and felt that they were appropriate for a square dance, Dinah had convinced her that it would be more fun to have a skirt that could swing to the music while she sashayed across the dance floor. Dinah herself wore jeans. She could go to the dance and have fun, but she was still much too sore to swing with a partner.
Although Stevie had wanted to try some new hairdos for both of them—she was inclined toward long bouncing sausage curls because it seemed sort of Early American—Dinah had talked her out of it. Both of them ended up looking remarkably normal, not counting the fact that a skirt wasn’t “normal” for Stevie.
As soon as they got out of the car, they hurried into the barn, normally a storage area for the stables. Tonight the entire floor had been cleared of tractors, wagons, and sleighs. In their place were more than a hundred people, a great big long table full of refreshments, and a real country square-dance band.
“Now, everybody grab a partner,” the caller insisted. Before Stevie even had a chance to wonder whom she might dance with, one of the boys who’d been in on her Frisbee game came up and took her hand.
“If you can dance as well as you catch a pie plate, we’re going to have fun,” he said, introducing himself as Michael.
“We’ll just see,” Stevie said, following him to join three other couples on the dance floor to make a square.
Stevie had been at square dances, but never when it felt
as authentic as this one did. For instance, she’d never been at a square dance on a winter night in a barn. It should have been cold, but the place was warmed by the presence of all the people and the animals who lived below. The smell of sweet hay permeated the place. There was also the pleasant smell of the regular tenants. As far as Stevie was concerned, the two best smells in the world were horses and hay. She was quite content. Of course, it might have been more perfect if she had Phil there.…
The caller explained the dance they were about to do and had one of the squares demonstrate.
“Ready?” he asked.
Michael winked at Stevie. She winked back. The dance began. At first the caller went through the dance slowly, letting the dancers get the idea of what they were doing. The second time through it was a little faster, and the third time through they were flying! When it was over, Michael suggested they get something to drink, and Stevie was very happy to see that the refreshment table had an ample supply of cider.
The problem was that Stevie barely had a chance to take a sip before another one of her Frisbee mates came and asked her to dance. How could she say no? She guzzled down the rest of the cider and returned to the dance floor for the next set.
Dinah found a soft seat and moved it behind the refreshment table. Even though she couldn’t dance, she could help the dancers by keeping the cider cups filled.
It seemed that everybody in town was at the dance, and, Stevie thought, everybody wanted to dance with her. It wasn’t exactly true. The fact was that there were more men there than women, so just about all the women danced every dance. That was fine with Stevie. She was having a wonderful time.
“May I have this dance?” a man behind her asked. Stevie turned and was surprised to see that it was Mr. Daviet. She could feel herself blushing. Mr. Daviet was one of the people who had been hurt by their secret. He was a nice man. It hadn’t been fair to him.
“You really want to dance with me?” she said.
“Certainly, I do. I want to ask you about the miracle cure you got for your recovery from surgery.”
“Surgery?”
“Your leg,” he said. “If I recall correctly, you had surgery on a leg recently. Betsy told me all about it when she asked if you three could take the sleigh to put out your buckets.”
It all came back to Stevie. So much had happened since that first day that she had completely forgotten about the little fib her friends had told.
“Fresh air,” she replied quickly. “Like I told you, it’s the best medicine there is. Plus exercise. Shall we dance?”
He smiled at her and nodded. “I suspected a miracle cure in the offing when the girls described the surgery to me. I was going to offer you the sled anyway. Since you’ve never been on snowshoes before, you would have been at a terrible disadvantage. Now, let’s go,” he said, offering Stevie his arm. They went off to do-si-do in style.
Finally the band took a little break, and Stevie wasn’t sorry for a chance to sit down and chat with Dinah. “This is just wonderful,” she said.
“Ah, and the best part is yet to come,” Dinah said rather mysteriously. Stevie liked the sound of it. She was about to ask Dinah what she meant when she heard Dinah’s name being spoken harshly.
Stevie turned. There was Jodi Hale. She was at the dance, but she wasn’t dressed up for it. She stood in front of Dinah defiantly. A young man, Stevie thought she recognized him as Mark, Jodi’s “student,” was with her.
“Proud of yourself?” Jodi demanded.
“It was to help your parents,” Dinah said. She was clearly uncomfortable with a confrontation. Up until a few hours earlier, Jodi had been somebody she’d admired enough to get into real trouble for. “Your parents could have gotten badly hurt—just like I was.”
“They are better riders than you are, or than you’ll ever be. They could have been just fine,” Jodi told her. “The rocks fall on that trail sometimes, but not all the time. What was the big deal?”
The big deal? Stevie could hardly believe her ears. She kept quiet, though. This was between Dinah and Jodi.
Dinah stood up from her stool without showing the pain she felt throughout her body. “Jodi, I used to think that all I wanted in the world was to be just like you,” she began. “I admired you more than anybody else I knew. I tried to be like you, but I have found in the last few days that I just can’t do it. I also don’t want to do it. There are differences between us. For one thing, I know the difference between right and wrong. I also know the difference between safe and sorry. For a while I forgot those things, but now I remember, and I’m not going to forget them again.”
Jodi put her hands on her hips defiantly. “There are other differences between us,” she said. “The biggest one is that you’ll never be a good rider if you can’t stay on a skittish horse. I’ll always be better than you are.” She spun on her heel, then looked back at her boyfriend. “Come on, Mark, let’s get out of here.” They left without saying another word.
Dinah’s face reddened in anger and resentment. Stevie wanted to reach out and comfort her. She was very proud of her friend and what she’d said to Jodi. She also knew that, in spite of her assurances earlier, Jodi’s words stung.
It was Mr. Daviet who came to Dinah’s rescue then. Stevie and Dinah hadn’t realized that he’d seen the confrontation. He hadn’t missed a word. “If it’s any comfort to you, Dinah, you should know that Jodi’s future riding will not take place at Sugarbush. You did something you shouldn’t have done, but Jodi did something inexcusable, and that was to put some of my riders at risk. Even worse, she asked you to cover up for her. She won’t be on any of my horses again. Ever. You, however, will have many opportunities to continue riding there. I’m glad of it. You’re a good student. I wish I had more like you. For one thing, you keep your head in an emergency. Now, the trick is to avoid emergencies in the future!”
Dinah stammered. She didn’t know what to say. She was spared having to say anything by the return of the band. The moment the music started, Mr. Slattery asked Stevie to dance. She was pleased to accept.
The dancing continued nonstop for another half hour, and then Mr. Daviet stood up on the bandstand.
“Your attention, please,” he said. “We have a few little ceremonial items to go through, and then we can return to dancing. First of all, as many of you know, Mrs. Daviet has been over at the Sugar Hut finishing the evaporation process on the final batch of sap. She’s also been cooking down some of the first batch of sap to make our first batch of sugar. It’s our tradition here to have our first sugar sampled by our newest worker. I have the sugar here, so will our newest worker come to the bandstand?”
Stevie looked around the room. What she saw was that everybody was looking at her.
“Me?” she said, looking quizzically at Mr. Daviet.
“Of course,” he said. “Besides, you’ve got to have something sweet to replenish all the energy you used so you can go on dancing for the rest of the night. Come on up here!”
Stevie walked slowly through the crowd, receiving good wishes and pats on the back as she went. She hadn’t expected this, and she wished Dinah had warned her.
Soon she was standing next to Mr. Daviet. Mrs. Daviet arrived with a platter filled with little chunks of maple sugar, sweet smelling and hot.
“Be our guest,” he said.
Stevie took a piece. It was hot, piping hot.
“Ouch!” she said.
There was laughter. “You thought this was an honor,” Mr. Daviet teased. “The truth is, we just want to let a stranger burn her fingers. We’re too smart for that!”
Stevie held the morsel on the palm of her hand and blew on it. There was silence in the barn. She held the morsel out to the crowd. “Blow,” she instructed. They did.
When she judged that it just might be cool enough, she tested it with the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t quite cool enough, but it was so sweet and inviting, she couldn’t resist. She took a nibble. It did burn her tongue, bu
t she didn’t care. It was the sweetest, most wonderful thing she’d ever tasted. She’d had maple sugar before, but she’d never had it piping hot and fresh. It was wonderful, and she told everybody so.
The crowd applauded, and then Mrs. Daviet and her assistants began walking through the crowd, passing out morsels to everybody who wanted it—and that was everybody there.
Then, while the guests were still testing the sugar, Mr. Daviet pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket.
“Oh, there’s one more thing here,” he said. “All of the sap was gathered by my junior riders, and in order to get them to do a lot of work for free, I make it a sort of contest.”
The adults laughed. So did the kids.
“Anyway, Mrs. Daviet has finished tallying up the amount of sap that was brought in by each of the teams of three students, and the team that brought in the most sap is guaranteed to have first pick of horses for classes all summer.”
He glanced at the piece of paper and then put it back into his pocket.
“All my horses are great animals,” he said. “And they’re all different. Some are fast, some have good canters, some have smooth trots, and some are pretty. Some are even gentle.”
There was laughter. He looked at the paper again and then tucked it back into his pocket.
“The kids gathered a lot of sap this year, and as you can tell from tonight’s sampling, it’s making high-quality maple products. We couldn’t do it without the help of our young riders.…”
Stevie thought this talk would never end. Mr. Daviet went on for what seemed like hours, but was really probably just a few minutes. The suspense was just about unbearable “… and so it’s always hard to recognize just one team when all of them work so hard …”
He went on to describe exactly what the teams did. He checked the paper again. Then he put it into his pocket again. Stevie thought it was getting frayed.
“… but the fact is, one team did do better than the others …”
This led to a discussion of the benefits of having a contest. It did not lead directly to the announcement of the winner.
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