By eleven o’clock, Lisa was clean and freshly shampooed, had put on her bathing suit, cover-up, sun hat, and all the sunscreen she’d need and headed to the beach for a swim. As if by a magnet, she was drawn to the place where Tec had kissed her the night before—the place where everything had changed in an instant.
He wasn’t there.
She walked along the beach, carrying her towel, hoping to find him, but there was no sign of him. It had seemed so logical that he’d be where they’d been; that he’d be drawn back there just as she was. But he wasn’t.
She kept walking, her eyes scanning the swimmers and sunbathers. Maybe he went on the snorkeling trip, she thought. The idea that he’d spend the day with her parents did not comfort her at all. Lisa climbed the concrete steps by the basketball court to the small pool where a rowdy, happy group was playing water polo. Between the water polo pool and the large swimming pool, there was a long row of beach chairs, and there, stretched out on one of them, sound asleep, was Tec Morrison.
Being as quiet as she could so as not to wake him, she spread her towel out on the empty chair beside Tec and lay down on it. She closed her eyes, and fatigue overcame her in a matter of minutes. She slept soundly until the water polo ball bounced off her stomach and onto Tec’s legs. That was enough to rouse both of them.
“Ouch!”
“What the …?”
Tec stared at her in surprise, his confusion compounded by the apologetic cries from the water polo players.
“Sorry,” Lisa said. “It bounced off me.”
“Oh,” he said. Then he let himself sink back down onto his seat.
“Good morning.”
“I don’t think so,” Tec said. “I definitely have not slept enough yet.”
“You missed a good trail ride,” she told him.
“What?”
“We were going to go horseback riding this morning, remember? I guess you slept through it, but that’s okay. Anyway, it was fun and you’re going to love it tomorrow.”
“Oh, right,” he said. “I forgot.”
“That’s all right,” she said. “And now I’ve got some even more exciting news for you.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“There’s a talent show on Saturday night, and we’re going to be in it. Isn’t that cool? A sort of ‘Annie Meets the Artful Dodger.’ Do you like the idea?”
“You have been busy this morning,” he remarked, smiling at her.
“Very,” she agreed. “And now I’m ready for a swim. How about you?” She stood up, eyeing the inviting pool in front of her.
“You show me first,” he said. “And I promise to save you if you start drowning.”
Lisa dived into the deep end of the pool while Tec settled back onto his lounge chair. The next time Lisa checked, his eyes were shut and he was asleep. That was good. He was going to need rest.
“MRS. REG!” LORRAINE Olsen wailed. “Look what Carole and Stevie have done!”
Stevie cringed. Carole fumed. Mrs. Reg appeared. She frowned, but she stood up for them.
“They’re doing something useful,” Mrs. Reg said.
“Not for me, they aren’t!” Lorraine snapped. “I can’t find anything. Where’s my saddle?”
“Is that what you want?” Stevie asked, sounding much more polite than she felt.
“Of course it’s what I want,” Lorraine answered, sounding ruder than Stevie thought absolutely necessary.
“Well, then you might have told us, because everything that has been moved out of the tack room is in a perfectly logical order,” Stevie said, just a tiny bit unsure what the logic was and stalling for time. “See, all the saddles that were on the right-hand wall are on the, um …”
“Mine was on the left,” Lorraine said.
“Well, then, but left walking in or out?” Stevie asked.
“Left walking in,” Lorraine told her.
“Well, because there isn’t really a left wall in this room, since the door is on the extreme left, we put all those saddles by the feed bins—”
“Stevie, this room has feed bins everywhere,” Mrs. Reg said. There was an edge to her voice that told Stevie she’d better have an answer fast.
“Well, then, you see, here—” Stevie suddenly remembered the system and her face and voice brightened up considerably. “It’s on this sawhorse, on the left side of the biggest bins. See? There is a system!”
“And my bridle?”
“Carole can help you with that,” Stevie said, turning the floor over to her partner in grime.
Not that Stevie was off the hook. Right behind Lorraine was April and then Betsy. Last but not least for that morning’s lesson was Veronica diAngelo. Actually, it wasn’t Veronica. She’d sent Red O’Malley, who spotted Veronica’s tack immediately and took it without bothering Stevie and Carole. He also spotted and fetched Betsy’s tack.
It took Stevie and Carole almost as much time and effort to locate and deliver the riders’ tack as it had to move it all in there the day before. They strongly suspected that when the tack was returned, it would not be in the strict order that they’d devised (even if they couldn’t always remember what the order was), but that was a problem for another hour.
Things quieted down between the tack and feed rooms when the class started, and Carole was ready to get back to their job. Stevie, however, was distracted.
“I’m just going to kill him,” she said.
“Who?” Carole asked, alarmed.
“Phil Marsten.”
Carole sighed. She was also annoyed that Phil had decided skiing was more fun than painting the tack room, but if she had a choice, she’d be on the snowy slopes right now, too.
Carole sat down on a bale of hay, next to where Stevie was perched on a sack of grain.
“I think we need a break,” Carole said.
“We need to take advantage of a moment of quiet to get back to work,” said Stevie.
“We’ve been working hard for two hours already this morning,” Carole reminded her. “You know what they say about all work and no play?”
“No, what do they say?” Stevie asked.
“It makes Stevie a very grumpy girl,” Carole said.
“Well, maybe Stevie’s got a good reason to be grumpy.”
“Sure, but she’d have a better reason to be cheery if she took a nice trail ride.”
“Do you think that would be okay?” Stevie asked.
“I think Belle would be grateful for the opportunity to get out in the fresh air and have a sip of some cool water from Willow Creek.”
“Hmmm. I wonder if I can find her saddle.”
“It’s a very simple system,” Carole said. “If it was on the right-hand side of the tack room, then it’s on the back wall, either on the sawhorse or perched on top of the winter feed, in alphabetical order by the first name of the rider who usually rides the horse or by the horse’s middle initial, if the horse is a predominantly American breed. If the horse is a European breed, then it’s alphabetical by the second letter of the owner’s last name, unless the owner is Pine Hollow, in which case it’s numerical in reverse order by height of the horse with the exception of horses whose manes naturally fall on the right as opposed to the left side of the neck or horses who have leg markings on an even number of legs.”
Stevie giggled. The system they’d worked out wasn’t exactly as complicated as Carole was making it sound, but it hadn’t been easy to devise a system that would work for the transition.
“Oh, I remember! The real basis of the system was that our own saddles would be the easiest to reach,” Stevie said, standing up and taking her own tack from the nearest surface. “Now that’s a totally logical system!”
“I definitely agree with that!” said Carole, taking her saddle from next to where Stevie’s had been.
“Meet you by the good-luck horseshoe in, um, six minutes,” Stevie said, glancing at her watch.
Six minutes later, the girls mounted their horses and
brushed the horseshoe, which was by the stable door. Max’s grandfather had nailed it to that wall many years before, and one of Pine Hollow’s most treasured traditions was that every rider had to touch it before they began any ride. The result was that no rider had ever been seriously injured at Pine Hollow. People liked to think that the horseshoe had magical good-luck qualities. More experienced riders realized that the very act of touching the shoe reminded them to be careful because what they were about to do could be dangerous.
Carole and Stevie were pleased to find that, unlike their impression from the dusty stable, it was really a lovely spring day, fresh and warm, with bright sunshine gleaming its promise down on the last wintry strains of the season.
Carole took a deep breath, invigorated by the combined scents of fresh air, horses, and leather.
“Wonderful!” she declared, bringing Starlight to a trot.
Stevie and Belle followed suit. Stevie could feel herself healing in every way as they proceeded through the paddock to the woods.
There was no question where they were headed. They were going to the creek—The Saddle Club’s own special spot. It wasn’t as if nobody else knew about it, but they all thought that nobody else got as much fun out of it as they did.
Carole led the way, walking, trotting, and cantering as the paths allowed. They knew exactly where they were going and exactly how to get there. With each step, their horses seemed to awaken from their own winter haze, and their gaits became more lively as they approached the spot by the creek that they all knew so well.
Carole drew Starlight to a halt and dismounted. Stevie did the same with Belle. They let their horses have a drink from the creek and then secured them to a bush where there were some fresh sprouts of spring grass to munch on. Since Belle was allergic to certain kinds of weeds, Stevie was always super-careful about where she secured her, but she knew that this was a safe spot. The horses immediately began munching—resulting in a sound of utter contentment.
“This way, my friend,” Carole teased, leading Stevie to the rock where the friends always sat.
It wasn’t summer yet, but the girls had both removed their sweaters and tied them around their waists. A cotton shirt was all that anyone needed today. Stevie sat on the rock and then scooted forward, reaching for the water. Willow Creek began in a nearby mountain, and sometimes in spring the water felt more like the ice it might have been not long before than it did water; but today, the water was relatively warm. That was all the invitation Stevie needed. In a matter of seconds, she and Carole had both removed their boots and their socks and were dangling their weary feet in the healing waters of Willow Creek.
“It’s almost summer,” Carole said, wiggling her toes against the chill of the rushing water.
“I agree with the almost,” Stevie said, withdrawing her feet for a few seconds. “Except that I’ve got a whole bunch of school left.”
“But now is vacation, so let’s focus on that,” said Carole.
“It’s a working vacation, that’s for sure,” said Stevie. “And I’m beginning to suspect we’ve bitten off more than we can chew—especially without Phil.”
“And Lisa,” Carole reminded her. “If you aren’t mad at Lisa for going away with her parents, how come you’re so mad at Phil for going away with A.J.?”
“Are you asking me to be logical?” Stevie said.
Carole laughed. “I guess I am making that terrible mistake,” she teased. “But I’ve been thinking. We are trying to do something nice for Max, and if it takes longer than the time he’ll be away, well, then it will. No matter when it gets done, it’ll still be a nice thing we did for Max and a real birthday surprise for him.”
Stevie didn’t answer right away. She dangled her feet again and wiggled her toes. She was still inclined to be angry with Phil. “But everything’s such a mess,” she said.
“So it’s a little disorganized. People will get used to it. They can see what we’re up to and they’ll go along with it.”
“Mrs. Reg is annoyed at us.”
Carole shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I think she’s pleased that we’re doing the job and that she doesn’t have to do anything for it. I think she wishes it would get done faster, but she knows what we’re up against. Mrs. Reg is never angry when people want to work at Pine Hollow, remember?”
“But we won’t have any time for any fun on our vacation!” Stevie said.
“This is fun, isn’t it?”
Her logic was compelling.
“Look,” Carole said. “We’re doing our best, which is all Max ever asks for.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Stevie conceded. “But I hate to think of the mess those riders from today’s class will leave when they put their saddles back.”
“So, then they’ll have more trouble finding their saddles next time,” Carole said.
“You’re so calm about it all!” Stevie said.
“What choice do we have?” Carole said with the kind of logic that Lisa usually applied to problems.
Stevie laughed. “Okay, okay, I give in,” she said. “We’ll just get as much done as we reasonably can without killing ourselves.”
“Or anybody else,” Carole said.
“Not even Phil?” Stevie asked.
“Not even Phil,” said Carole, and she knew they’d struck a deal.
“You know what I think?” Stevie asked, looking into the clear waters of the creek.
“What?” Carole asked.
“I think loving a boy is complicated,” she said.
“I guess,” said Carole, though she hadn’t had as much experience with boys as Stevie had. “Loving horses is simpler,” Carole said.
“Definitely,” Stevie agreed. “And besides, they never go skiing.”
Carole and Stevie laughed a little, then sat in contented quiet.
After a while, both girls took their feet out of the water, lay back on the rock, and gazed up at the blue spring sky, visible through the still-bare branches of winter.
“DID YOU SEE that yellow fish?” Lisa asked, removing the snorkel from her mouth.
“I did—and there was a school of blue ones, too. Did you see them?”
“I sure did,” she said. “They almost seem to glow, the blue is so bright!”
“Well, the sight of all that food, pretty as it is, has made me hungry,” Tec said.
“And I have just the cure for that,” Lisa told him.
The two of them were snorkeling at a coral reef off a small beach at the edge of the resort. There were only a few other swimmers and picnickers there, and Lisa felt almost as if they were in a world of their own.
When they’d both awakened from their poolside naps, they’d made a deal: Lisa was in charge of making a picnic, and Tec was in charge of getting snorkeling equipment. Neither job was hard. The resort was only too happy to have visitors use their facilities, and sandwiches, chips, and sodas were packed into a cooler in a matter of minutes. Tec got their flippers, masks, and snorkels as easily, accompanied by directions to the beach and then to the small coral reef.
They swam back to the beach, removing their snorkeling equipment as the water became shallower. Then they dried off and settled down on towels in the sand to enjoy the lunch and to continue doing what the two of them did so well: talking. It seemed to Lisa that there was nothing she couldn’t say to Tec and nothing he wouldn’t share with her. How could it be that they’d met each other less than twenty-four hours before? Already it felt like a lifetime—a wonderful lifetime.
“Turkey or tuna?” she asked.
“How did you know those were my two favorites?” he asked.
She’d just known.
STEVIE AND CAROLE drew their horses to a halt in the ring by the stable’s double doors and dismounted. They were both glad for the break they’d taken. Now they felt ready to continue their job, no matter how long it took, and Carole was convinced that Stevie’s anger had dissolved a little in Willow Creek. That would def
initely make it easier to work with her.
They walked their horses to their stalls, untacked them, and then took the equipment back to the grain storage area.
“What’s this?” Stevie asked, entering first.
Carole was dismayed. She guessed that Stevie had been right about everybody making a super mess when they’d returned their tack after class.
“Bad?” Carole asked.
“I don’t think so,” said Stevie.
“We saved your places over there,” Carole heard Lorraine tell Stevie. She stepped into the room to see what was going on.
What had before been half filled with tack was now completely filled with tack. Anna McWhirter showed up at the door on the other side of the room, holding a large cardboard box.
“That’s the last of it,” she said.
“Good,” said Lorraine. “Because we’re now completely out of space here, unless we want to stop feeding the horses.”
“What’s going on?” Carole asked.
“We’re helping,” said Lorraine.
“I can see that,” said Stevie. “But what inspired you?”
“You didn’t tell us this was a surprise for Max,” said Anna. “There’s no way it’ll get done before he gets back without help from everybody.”
“Will someone please tell Red where to put my saddle!” Veronica diAngelo demanded, pushing her way into the room.
“Almost everybody,” Anna corrected herself.
Veronica disappeared as quickly as she could.
“Okay, so now the tack room is empty. I figure the next step is the best cleaning it’s ever had,” said Lorraine.
“Just what we had in mind,” Carole agreed.
“I’ve got the broom,” said Anna, holding it high.
“And I’ve got the bucket,” said Betsy.
“I think the mop is in the bathroom,” said April.
Stevie turned to Carole. “Well, what are we waiting for?” she asked.
“I’ll get the cleanser while you find the spackle,” Carole said.
Horse Love Page 5