Lisa held her hand so she wouldn’t fall over. But it wasn’t easy. Her boots were a men’s size and she shuffled along in them, nearly leaving them behind her with every step.
“Oh, don’t get them dusty, girls!” Jackie said. “Come on now, take them off and rub them until they shine. I think if we put them up against the white fence, it’ll show them off well. Make sure they’re on grass.”
While the girls hobbled over to the grassy area by the fence, Jackie changed filters and lenses.
“Did she say ‘take them off’?” Lisa asked.
“I hope so,” Stevie said. “Because I’m about to fall over.” And with that, she did. Lisa tugged the tight boots off Stevie’s feet and finished brushing the dust off them. Lisa set the boots aside until Stevie could stand to put them on again. Then, without meaning to, she stepped out of the jodhpur boots she was wearing and fell smack onto the ground with a thud. She was going to have a nasty bruise on her elbow where she had landed.
“Good thing it wasn’t scraped,” Lisa said. “That wouldn’t look at all pretty in the photographs, would it?”
“No, it wouldn’t, but I’m beginning to wonder if it matters,” Stevie said.
“What do you mean?” Lisa asked her.
“Well, I’ve never worked harder in my life. I thought I was going to die from heat exhaustion when I was holding the horse with the western saddle. It must have taken Jackie an hour to do that one photograph.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Lisa said. “I know you had a rough time with that, but remember I was sitting in the saddle for that one. And the saddle didn’t fit me at all.”
“Neither did the cowboy boots you were wearing,” Stevie reminded her sympathetically. “But they fit better than the ones I just took off!”
Jackie approached the fence, camera ready.
“I bet she wants us to put those things back on now,” Lisa said. “Ugh.” She turned. “Ready for us, Jackie?” she asked.
“Perfect, just perfect,” Jackie was saying to nobody in particular. Her camera was already clicking away. When Lisa looked at the target, she found it was the two pairs of boots in front of the white fence. There was nobody in them. No models. That was Jackie’s idea of perfect. It was beginning to be Lisa’s idea of perfect, too.
“Next, we do halters,” Jackie announced, reloading her camera.
Halters meant using more horses. Stevie and Lisa spent the next hour holding horses so that their heads were pointed just right for Jackie, showing off the different kinds of halters.
“I think I’m getting the picture here,” Stevie said, standing next to Comanche on the side away from the camera. The horse was wearing a pretty red nylon halter with a brass nameplate. The halter was a size too large for the horse. Stevie’s job was to grasp it just enough to make it look as though it fit him.
“I don’t think you’re in the picture at all,” Lisa said. She was standing off to the side, facing Comanche. It was her job to get Comanche’s attention when Jackie wanted him to look up.
“That’s the point,” Stevie told her. “Jackie’s gotten a couple of good photographs of my hands, two of your feet. One of your arm when you were holding the reins, two of mine, which she didn’t want, when Comanche shook his head. Other than that, we’re not in these pictures at all.”
“You mean we’re not really models?” Lisa asked.
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Maybe that’s why we’re not having any fun,” Lisa said.
“No, I think it would be worse if we were models. We would have had to wear those boots!”
“No wonder models get paid so much!” Lisa said. “They get paid a lot more than we’re getting—and it’s still not enough!”
Lisa shook her head. She hated the idea of her dream vanishing into thin air, but that seemed to be exactly what was happening. So much for Monte Carlo, Paris, and the cover of Vogue. If she couldn’t take a day at Pine Hollow, there was no way she could stand a life of modeling.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Lunchtime,” Stevie said. She turned to Jackie. “Can we break for lunch?”
“Oh, no!” Jackie said. “I’ve got another line to photograph and the sky’s looking iffy. No way can we stop!”
Stevie sighed. She and Lisa had made a deal with Jackie and they weren’t going to break their word. “Okay, come on, Lisa. I think we’re doing blankets next.”
“Great. Comanche’s going to love having a blanket on now that it’s only practically broiling hot outside,” Lisa complained.
“Right, and it’s your turn to hold the horse. You’re going to love being under the blanket with him, holding him still so the blanket doesn’t slide off!”
“You wouldn’t, would you?” Lisa asked.
Stevie would.
WHEN CAROLE FINISHED changing back into her own jeans, she followed Lynne out of the dressing room and waited while she paid for the dress. After the saleswoman handed Carole the bag, Lynne marched happily out of the shop. Carole trailed her through the maze of teenagers, parents, and crying children in the crowded local shopping mall. Lynne chatted on about the total outfit she was building around the dress she’d bought for Carole. Carole knew that sooner or later she was going to hear about some flowers, for a color accent, but at least she’d found a dress she could stand and that seemed to make Lynne happy. And making Lynne happy would make her father happy. And when the colonel was happy, Carole was happy.
Soon, the two of them spotted the coffee shop; Lynne was still talking about Carole’s outfit when they sat down at their table. Carole ordered a root beer. Lynne ordered iced tea. Then she returned to her favorite subject: Carole’s new dress.
“You know, Carole, I have a beautiful grosgrain ribbon with bright red roses. It will look wonderful in your curly hair, and the red of the roses will go nicely with the pink shawl. You’ll be the belle of the ball.”
“Belle of the ball? What do you mean?” Carole asked, suddenly very suspicious.
“At the dance next week, of course,” Lynne said.
“What dance?”
“The one on the base. Your father talked with you about it, didn’t he?”
Carole frowned and shook her head. She knew that some kids hardly ever talked with their parents, but she and her father talked a lot. For example, he had told her another old joke this morning. He had told her that there was a bird’s nest blocking their porch light. He had told her they were out of popcorn and would need more today, since one of his favorite old movies, The D.I., was on television tonight, but he hadn’t said a thing about a dance at the base next week.
“This is news to me,” Carole told Lynne, a funny feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.
“Mitch can be funny sometimes, can’t he?”
“Yes, he can,” Carole agreed, but she didn’t think this was one of them. She was not amused.
“It’s a fund-raiser for Toys for Tots at the Officers’ Club at the base on Saturday night. Your dad has taken a table for four. You’ll need a date, of course, but I’m sure a pretty girl like you has a lot of young men who are just dying to date you.”
Carole could barely believe what she was hearing. It was getting worse and worse! “Not exactly,” she said to Lynne. “And there aren’t any I’m dying to date, and I didn’t know anything at all about this dance, and nobody’s asked me if I want to go—” Carole was so angry she was practically sputtering, but Lynne didn’t seem to notice at all.
“Oh, no, you’re going to have to ask the boy, Carole. A boy couldn’t ask you to this, unless, of course, his family had bought tickets, and we’re counting on you being at our table, dear.”
Carole’s soda arrived. She looked at it glumly and sighed. Obviously, being nice to Lynne meant not only letting her buy a dress, but also agreeing to go along to this dance thing. No wonder her father hadn’t told her about it. He knew she wouldn’t want to go!
She would mount an argument all right, but there was no point i
n arguing with Lynne. This woman, with all her good intentions, didn’t seem to understand Carole at all. Carole pierced the top of her soda with her straw and drank a big gulp of it. She would argue, all right, but it wouldn’t be with Lynne. She would argue with her father. He would understand.
LISA STRETCHED OUT on the bench in the locker room. “I just heard the most wonderful noise in the world,” she announced.
“What was that?” Stevie asked, lying on the other end of the bench so that they were head-to-head.
“The sound of Jackie’s truck pulling away from Pine Hollow. Can you believe this day? I never worked harder in my life!”
“What I can’t believe is that we thought it was going to be fun.”
“Glamorous.”
“Exciting.”
“Instead, it was boring and exhausting,” Lisa said. “I think I’ve decided that I definitely don’t want to be a model. We didn’t even have a chance to learn anything about makeup!”
“I learned everything I ever wanted to know about makeup this morning,” Stevie said, reminding Lisa of the disaster of the wrinkle cream.
“Yeah, and you were going to tell me how you finally got that stuff off.”
Stevie laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Lisa asked her. “What did you do?”
“I used an old, familiar standby. Something you can always find around here.”
“You didn’t!” Lisa said.
“Yep, I did. I used saddle soap. Worked like a dream.”
Lisa began giggling along with Stevie. That was a nice way to end a very long day.
“OF COURSE I understand, honey,” the colonel said to Carole a few hours later when they were alone at home. Lynne had stayed for dinner and had left around eight-thirty. Carole had remained quiet about the dance until Lynne was out of the house, but then she had turned to her father for an explanation. He understood, all right, but it didn’t make any difference. “But it still doesn’t change things. Lynne seems to think it’s very important that you be with us that night, so we’ll do it her way. That’s my decision. And it’s final.”
“Da-ad!” Carole complained. “You didn’t even have the guts to tell me about it!”
“Guilty!” he said with a sheepish smile. “I knew you wouldn’t like the idea if you heard it from me. But Lynne’s so enthusiastic I assumed it would sound better coming from her.”
“You were wrong there, Dad,” Carole said.
“Well, look, honey. I made a mistake and I’m sorry about it, but let’s make the best of it. Now let me see your pretty new dress, won’t you? It’s all Lynne talked about when you two got back. It must be something!”
Carole could be stubborn, but she could also tell when she had lost a fight. If she was going to have to go to the dance at the Officers’ Club, she would at least make the best of it. Maybe it would be fun after all. She nodded to her father and went upstairs to change into her new white cotton lace dress. She and Lynne had bought a pair of white sandals to go with the dress, so she slipped them on as well. Then, as an afterthought, Carole used a red ribbon to hold her hair back. She scampered downstairs for the fashion show.
Her father had settled onto his favorite television-watching couch, preparing for The D.I., which would go on in fifteen minutes.
“Like it, Dad?” she asked, stepping into the living room.
The colonel looked over his shoulder at Carole and then swung his feet back off the couch and onto the floor so he could get a better look.
“Oh, my!” he said, grinning broadly. “You are beautiful.”
Carole blushed. “Thanks, Dad,” she said, twirling around to show him how nicely the skirt flared.
He smiled appreciatively. “I’m so proud of you, honey,” the colonel said. “I just wish your mother could see what a beautiful woman you’re becoming. She’d be proud, too.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Carole said, knowing that she had done the right thing by agreeing to go to the dance. Even if she didn’t want to do it, it would mean an awful lot to her father. It wasn’t until much later that Carole began to wonder: What was so special about this dance?
And who was she going to invite to go with her?
“LISA, YOU SHOULD sit back a little in the saddle, especially when you’re trotting,” Carole advised her friend. “Just try sitting up straighter and you’ll find you balance better.”
Lisa straightened her back and immediately improved her seat. “It seems so simple when you say it. The only problem is remembering it when you’re not here to remind me!” Lisa said.
“Oh, you’ll remember in time,” Stevie said. “You just get so used to it that it becomes natural.”
“I can’t wait for that moment!” Lisa said.
Carole smiled. Lisa had been working very hard at her riding since she had started only a few months before. If only she knew how long it took most riders to be as good as Lisa had already become!
“Patience,” Carole advised. “You’re doing great!”
The three girls were out on a trail ride by themselves on Monday morning. Stevie had talked Max into letting them take a picnic into the woods. They had all hopped onto their horses and headed for the cover of the forest before he could change his mind.
It was a beautiful summer day. The sky was a deep blue with a few wisps of white clouds for contrast. It wasn’t too hot, for once, and it wasn’t muggy at all. In the forest, the sunshine made a dappled shadow pattern, which changed constantly when the soft breeze swished through the leaves.
Carole brought Diablo to a walk and the others followed. Horseback riding was something Carole could count on. Often it seemed to her that the world was confusing and unreliable. Her mother’s death had proved that, and now Scott’s unwanted attention and her father’s insistence about the dance next weekend seemed to confirm her suspicions that she couldn’t control events. But whenever Carole was riding, she was in charge of the world, or at least the part of the world that mattered to her. Her body moved in perfect rhythm with Diablo’s walk. She felt the power of the animal underneath her and she knew that power was hers. It was a very comforting feeling.
Ahead, the trail split in two. One way led to an open pasture. The other, to the right, followed Willow Creek, after which their town was named. Carole gently turned Diablo to the right. Her friends followed on their horses. Carole was in charge. And she liked it that way.
“I thought we’d stop at the place where the creek gets so wide,” she said. “We can have our picnic and water the horses—”
“And wade,” Stevie finished the sentence for her.
Carole nodded. The creek’s cool water would feel good on her feet and ankles, which had been encased in hot leather boots all morning. “Let’s trot for a while, then we can canter where the trail crosses the meadow and walk until we get to the creek.” She signaled Diablo to trot, and once he had a nice collected trot she began posting, rising and sitting with the rhythm of his gait.
When the path widened, Stevie drew Comanche up next to Diablo and Carole. “So where was the dramatic rescue with Scott?” she asked. “It was on this trail, wasn’t it?”
Carole nodded. “The thunder began when we got to the big old oak at the curve next to the meadow,” she explained. “Right up there.” She pointed up ahead about thirty yards. “Patch took off down the hill away from the trail. Scott was hopeless, too.”
“If you want my opinion, he’s still hopeless—I mean hopelessly in love with you!”
“I think you’re right—and I can assure you that one day of perfectly awful stable chores hasn’t done anything to change his mind. Some bright idea. All it got me was a bunch of blisters!”
“Sorry about that,” Stevie said. “I tried!”
“I’m sure,” Carole teased. “Next time, you do the mucking out, okay?” She laughed. “I’m just joking. Those stables needed cleaning anyway, and at least I got some help doing it.”
“So it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”
“Relax, Carole,” Stevie said soothingly. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve yet.”
“That’s what I was afraid of!” Carole said, laughing. One thing she knew she could always count on was that Stevie would have big ideas. And no matter whether they worked or not, it was one of the reasons Carole like her so much.
They passed the point where Patch had bolted. Soon after that, the trail crossed the meadow. The three girls sat down in their saddles while their horses continued trotting and then touched the horses behind their girths on one side. Soon the horses were cantering, the wonderful rocking-horse gait. Carole sat deeply into the saddle, moving forward and back with the horse’s motions. She loved almost everything about riding, but it was hard to think of anything more fun than cantering gently across an open field on a graceful horse like Diablo, with the bright, warm sunshine beaming down from above. The tangy smell of the hay in the meadow blended perfectly with the rich smell of horses and leather. Carole was content.
When they had crossed the meadow, the girls drew the horses to a walk so they could cool down for the last ten minutes of the ride until they reached the creek.
“Okay, lunchtime!” Carole announced, dismounting. “For the horses, of course.”
The Saddle Club knew the horses came first. There would be plenty of time for the girls to eat and relax once they had tended to the horses.
The girls loosened the girths and put halters over the horses’ bridles so they could snap lead ropes onto them. In spite of cowboys who tied their horses’ reins to hitching posts in movies, The Saddle Club knew that it was very bad for the horse, and the reins, to use them that way. The girls led the horses to the creek and let them have a cooling drink, but not too much. A whole lot of cold water in a horse’s stomach on a hot day could lead to digestive problems very quickly. When the horses were refreshed, the girls tied them up where they could reach sweet, fresh grass for snacking. After the horses were tended, it was the girls’ turn to rest.
“Last one in is a rotten egg,” Stevie said, removing her boots. She rolled up her pants legs and then sat on a big flat rock that bordered the creek. She dangled her feet in the water. “Heaven,” she announced. Carole and Lisa quickly followed suit.
Trail Mates Page 5