Michelle ran across our backyard to our barn. Sparkle jumped over the gate that was supposed to hold him in the barn and ran to greet her. His tail wagged a zillion times a second, and I think he licked every single inch of her face. She hugged him and buried her face in his soft fur. I knew she was crying because she was so happy to see her dog again.
Then her father came into the yard. My mother was next to him, showing him the way, I guess. He stopped about ten feet away from where Michelle was hugging the dog and he watched. I saw him sigh then, as if his shoulders were collapsing, and he bent his head down. He was crying. I guess it was relief or joy or both or I don’t know what, but he cried.
The next thing I knew, my mother was crying as well. Then she gave Mr. Leffert a little hug. It was a sweet gesture—two strangers sharing a special moment—and it had a strange effect on me. It made me cry, too.
So there we were, four people and a dog, all crying our eyes out. I never felt so confused in my whole life. I was crying because I knew I was going to lose Sparkle and I was crying because it made me so happy that Michelle and Midnight were back together again. Believe me, crying because you’re happy and miserable at the same time is a very confusing business.
Eventually I went downstairs and met Michelle. Part of me wanted her to be an awful pain, but of course it turned out she was as nice as could be. Anybody who owned a dog as nice as Sparkle/Midnight had to be nice.
Fortunately, Michelle and her father had to go quickly. They had a long drive to their new home. That was okay as far as I was concerned. I didn’t want Sparkle to leave, but I also couldn’t stand waiting for it to happen.
That night, when Dad came home for dinner, we talked about everything that had happened. My parents weren’t anywhere near as angry with me as I think they might have been, or as I was afraid they would be. I’d frightened them by running off, but they sort of understood. They were awfully glad that Sparkle had known how to find them and show them where I was, and we talked about what a wonderful pet he was and what a wonderful time I’d had with him.
Then Dad told Mom and me the most exciting news. He’d finally heard about his transfer. The Marine Corps wanted him to go to Quantico right near Washington, D.C. He’d been promised that this would be a long assignment, probably his last move. Dad said it meant we could really settle down. We could buy our very own house in a town, and I could go to the town school and not worry about moving anywhere before the end of the school year. We’d have our own backyard. Dad told us that he knew there was a nice town near Quantico called Willow Creek, Virginia. He’d even heard about a house there …
“Mom,” I said, but I was so excited I could hardly talk. She didn’t hear me. So I tried again. “Mom,” I practically croaked.
“Yes, Carole,” said my mother.
“When we have our own house in our own town where I can have friends and we can live for a long time, can we, I mean, can I—please? Can I have a dog just like Sparkle for my very own?”
Mom smiled at me then. “Yes, dear. Your father and I have already decided that you will never be far from the animals you love. I promise you that one day, very soon, you will have your very own pet to love and care for just as you did Sparkle. Only this time, don’t run away, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed.
Mom and Dad kept their promise, too. And so did I.
“OH, CAROLE, THAT was a lovely story!” Deborah said.
Carole was very pleased that Deborah had liked it so much.
“And she hardly mentioned horses at all!” Stevie said.
“Right, well there was that stuff about the model h words,” Lisa reminded her. “But, then, nobody’s perfect.”
“More than that, she gave me some great ideas about what good parenting is,” said Deborah.
“Definitely, the part about not having a fit just because she did something stupid and dangerous like running away and letting a tree fall on her,” Stevie said. “Personally, I think all parents should take a page out of that book. Carole, maybe you could tell my parents about how they should behave in case I ever do something just a little bit, oh, I don’t know, should I say ‘impetuous’? Actually, I definitely should say impetuous because that’s the word my parents are forever using—once they got tired of saying harebrained. It’s not my favorite word, though maybe that’s just because I hear it so often. ‘Oh, Stevie, you’re so impetuous.’ It’s not fair, you know. It’s not even true. Impetuous is when you don’t think about what you are doing. The fact is that I really think a lot about all those wild and crazy things I do. Anyway, Deborah, it’s important to recognize your child’s strengths and to appreciate them. Deborah? Deborah?”
All three girls looked at Deborah now. She hadn’t heard a word Stevie was saying. She was doing her breathing exercises and it didn’t look as if they were really helping her.
“Do you think maybe we’d better call the doctor again?” Lisa asked. Carole and Stevie nodded.
“I’ll stay here with Deborah,” Carole said. “You two go make the call. I know we’ve never seen a baby born before, but we’ve certainly seen mares deliver foals, and if Deborah were a mare, I’d say she was pretty close to delivering her foal.”
Lisa and Stevie hurried back downstairs. Stevie dialed Dr. Husted’s number once more, and once more the doctor’s nurse answered.
“No, I’m afraid that Dr. Husted is still in surgery,” the nurse said. “It’s an emergency, you know.”
“So is this,” said Stevie. “Mrs. Regnery is about to have her baby.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” said the nurse.
Stevie could tell from the nurse’s tone that she wasn’t at all sure. It was more than a little frustrating for her to have someone distrust her so much on the phone—especially someone who had never even met her!
She asked the nurse to let Dr. Husted know that they had called and that they were sure he ought to know Deborah was really about to have a baby.
“I’ll let him know as soon as he calls me,” said the nurse.
Stevie practically slammed down the phone. Carole joined them in the kitchen then. “She’s had another contraction,” she told her friends. “This time, it was just a minute since the last one. I’m telling you, she’s about to have that baby, for sure.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Stevie said. “Up until now, I’ve been pretty sure that everything we were doing for Deborah was good for her. Telling her stories is one thing, but delivering a baby is another altogether.”
“We need help,” Lisa agreed. “Maybe we should just call an ambulance.”
“Good idea,” said Carole, reaching for the phone. But before she could dial, a set of headlights appeared in the driveway. It was the first time any of the three of them had noticed that it was late enough to be dark. They’d been with Deborah for more than five hours!
“Maybe it’s the doctor,” said Stevie.
“Maybe it’s Max,” said Lisa.
“Look, it’s Judy!” said Carole. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
Stevie shook her head in amazement. “How can you possibly be thinking about Patch’s leg at a time like this?”
Lisa laughed. “Don’t be silly, Stevie,” she said. “She’s not thinking about Patch, she’s thinking about the fact that we now have an adult here with us, somebody that Dr. Husted’s nurse will listen to. Right?”
“Sort of,” Carole said. “Come on. I’ll go get her before she gets to Patch’s stall. You two stay with Deborah.”
Carole hurried out the kitchen door of the Regnerys’ house. She was only vaguely aware of the cool evening air that brushed her skin while she ran toward the stable. What was on her mind was a woman who needed help and three girls who seemed unable to help her. It wasn’t easy to admit that there were things The Saddle Club couldn’t do, but she guessed that if she had to make a list, delivering babies would probably have to be on it.
“Judy!” she called out down the long hall of the stable.
“Is that you,
Carole?” Judy answered from around a corner. “Boy, this place is quiet. I figured that when Max left The Saddle Club in charge, there would be some sort of disaster going on that I’d have to sort out, but if I don’t count the fact that Nickel’s stall really needs a mucking out—”
“Judy, there is a problem,” Carole said.
“I know. Patch’s leg. Well, this old boy’s had sore ankles before, and he’ll have them again. I see that you wrapped it—”
“Not Patch,” said Carole. “It’s Deborah.”
“She’s got a sore leg, too?” Judy teased.
“It’s not a joke,” said Carole. “She’s going to have a baby.”
“Of course she is. Everybody knows that. That’s what that enormous belly—”
“No, I mean soon,” said Carole. “Like now. Her contractions are less than a minute apart, and every time we’ve talked to her doctor’s office, the nurse says the doctor’s in emergency surgery. We were just about to call an ambulance, but maybe you can help.”
“One minute apart, did you say?” Judy asked.
“Yep,” Carole said. “We’ve been timing them. I know this should be taking longer. Even Deborah doesn’t believe it. That’s why we’ve been calling her doctor for her.”
Judy picked up the medical bag she’d dropped next to Patch’s stall. “Carole, what are we doing standing here and talking? Let’s go to the house. I’ll see Deborah, and then I’ll get that doctor’s attention, one way or another!”
The two of them ran back through the kitchen door and hurried upstairs. They found Lisa and Stevie each holding Deborah’s hands while Deborah puffed away with her breathing exercises.
“You’re about to have a baby, aren’t you?” Judy asked.
Deborah nodded.
“Girls, get me some clean towels and some boiling water to sterilize my instruments.”
“Should we call an ambulance?” Lisa asked.
“Yes,” said Judy. “But I have a feeling this baby isn’t waiting for any ambulance.”
The next few minutes were extremely busy for The Saddle Club. Lisa brought a large pot of boiling water up to Deborah’s room; Stevie gave Judy a stack of clean towels; Carole carried in a pan of lukewarm water and some soap.
“I think you’d better leave us alone now,” said Judy. “But when you go downstairs, you might just call Dr. Husted’s nurse one more time.”
Stevie, Carole, and Lisa all hurried downstairs. Carole made the call this time. The nurse said she’d page Dr. Husted and phone for an ambulance.
It was strange. A few minutes earlier there had been a lot of activity with a lot of things to do. Now Judy was here, Deborah was about to have her baby, and there was nothing to do.
“A whole new life is starting upstairs, right now,” Lisa said. “Isn’t that strange?”
“Newborns are mostly wrinkly and red,” said Stevie. “This one probably will be, too.”
“Not like horses,” Carole remarked. “Newborn foals are totally cute from the very instant they are born—or at least as soon as they start to stand up and walk around.”
“This baby will take a whole year or more before he can walk,” said Stevie.
“But it’s a whole human being,” said Lisa. “Wrinkly, scrinchy, red-faced, and dependent though he may be right now, he will grow up, learn to walk, talk—”
“And ride,” said Carole.
“He’ll have his own life,” said Lisa.
“Maybe even some brothers,” said Stevie. She made a face to let her friends know that she wouldn’t wish that on Deborah and Max’s son. “But just think how much money we can make babysitting!” Stevie said. Money was a constant worry for Stevie. The problem was that she spent it as fast as she earned it, and if she earned extra money baby-sitting, she found extra ways to spend it. “But then, Max barely trusts us with the horses; imagine what we’d have to do to convince him that we could look after his son!”
“Hopes, dreams, everything,” said Lisa. “A complete life. Isn’t it unbearably exciting?”
That was, of course, exactly what it was—unbearably exciting. For months they’d known this baby was coming. They had thought about it ever since Max and Deborah got married. And now the time was here and somehow all of their anticipation wasn’t the same as the actual fact.
Stevie glanced at the ceiling. Deborah’s room was right above the kitchen. Carole and Lisa looked up as well. There were no sounds from above, no way of knowing what was going on.
“I hope she’s okay,” said Stevie.
“Millions of babies get born every year,” Lisa said sensibly.
“She’s in good hands,” said Carole.
Carole looked at her own hands. Then she reached out with them, one to each of her best friends. Lisa took one, Stevie the other, then Lisa and Stevie held hands. They made a circle—a circle of friendship, of hope, of support, and they sat there quietly, listening for any sound, any hint of what was happening, and any cry for help. If Judy or Deborah needed them, they’d be there in a second.
Among three girls who loved to talk, it seemed a little strange to sit silently, but they knew that they were each listening for a new voice, a new life.
And, as Judy promised, it didn’t take long.
The silence in the kitchen was pierced by a tiny, insistent wail. It stopped for a second and then resumed.
“It’s a baby!” Stevie said.
THE THREE GIRLS jumped up out of their seats and ran to the stairs.
“We did it!” said Stevie as they fled up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“Judy did it,” Carole corrected her.
“Deborah did it,” Lisa said sensibly.
Of course, Lisa was right. Now the question remained, what exactly had Deborah done? Could they see her? Could they see the baby?
They stopped at the door to Deborah’s room. Lisa knocked.
“Come on in,” Judy said.
They entered. Judy was washing her hands and instruments in the hot water Lisa had brought up. Deborah sat on the bed, looking extremely tired but happy. In her arms was a tiny little bundle, wrapped in a clean towel and making the most amazing gurgling sounds.
The girls tiptoed over and peered at the bundle. Deborah lifted the corner of the towel over her baby’s face. The face was round with big blue eyes and tiny thin little eyebrows, a perfect little nose, and a sweet mouth that opened to reveal pink gums. The baby’s eyes blinked in the bright light and then closed in a contented sleep.
“Ooooh,” said Lisa, breathless with excitement.
“Cute!” said Stevie. “And so tiny!”
“It’ll be a couple of years before that one gets into a saddle,” said Carole.
“Someone’s coming,” said Judy, looking out the window. “Why don’t you go see who it is? It’s probably the ambulance. You can show them the way up here. Mother and baby seem to be doing fine, but there’s no harm in having a people doctor’s opinion on the subject!”
The girls hurried downstairs, expecting to see flashing lights. What they saw, instead, was Max and Mrs. Reg hurrying in from their car.
There was a worried look on Max’s face. “Is she okay?” Max asked.
“Did the ambulance come?” asked Mrs. Reg.
“She’s fine and the ambulance hasn’t come yet,” said Lisa. “In fact, it should be here in a minute, but Judy said she’s sure they’re both okay.”
“Did I hear you say ‘both okay’?” said Max.
“Yeah, both,” said Stevie.
“You mean both Judy and Deborah?” asked Mrs. Reg.
“Nope, well, Judy’s fine, too,” Carole assured them.
“We mean both Deborah and the baby.”
“The baby came already?” Mrs. Reg said breathlessly. “Did you hear that Max? You’re a father!”
“That’s right!” said Carole. “Max the Fourth is here, safe and sound.”
“And cute,” said Stevie.
“Adorable,” said Lisa. But th
ey each knew it was unlikely that Max the Third heard any of what they’d said. He was running into the house and up the stairs faster than they’d ever seen him do anything. Mrs. Reg was no slouch in the rushing department. She was right behind him. Stevie, Carole, and Lisa weren’t far behind.
“Deborah? Deborah!” he cried loudly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said calmly. “Come meet our baby.”
The three girls and Mrs. Reg watched from the door. It was as if Max couldn’t run anymore, or he didn’t want to run. He didn’t want to upset his newborn baby or his wife.
“Oh, Deborah!” he said when he saw the baby’s sweet, perfect face. He looked at his wife with love and adoration, and everyone in the room understood his joy and his pride at knowing that together they had created this precious life.
Then, with a big, beaming smile on his face, he uttered the words everybody had expected for eight months: “Maximilian Regnery the Fourth!” he declared.
“Um, Max, I’m not so sure about that,” said Deborah.
“But I thought we’d decided,” said Max.
“Well, I know, but—”
“It’s not just about me,” said Max. “It’s the whole line of Regnerys—my dad, my grandfather. I’ve always known I’d have a baby named Maximilian the Fourth. Why do you have a problem with it?”
“Well, I don’t, really,” said Deborah, looking adoringly at the baby in her arms. “But I think some of her classmates may think it’s a little odd.”
“Oh, kids’ll find all kinds of things to make fun of. I got jokes about being named—um—her?”
“Meet your daughter,” Deborah said. “Max, it’s a filly, not a colt.”
“G-Girl?” Max stammered. “I never expected a girl.”
“Are you disappointed?” Deborah asked, suddenly concerned.
“Oh, no. Not at all!” said Max. “I like girls. Actually, I like some girls a lot—as long as they don’t talk in class and get all their chores done and don’t cause too much trouble at Pony Club meetings. Sure, girls are fine. But they aren’t named Maximilian.”
“Definitely,” Deborah agreed.
Before They Rode Horses Page 11