“I can’t believe anybody could hate you, Skye!” Lisa glanced at her friends. They were finally about to get to the mystery of all this.
Skye broke off a piece of bread. “Well, they do. There’s this guy on the set, George Gamble. He’s the trainer for all the horses in the movie.”
“We met him,” said Stevie. “I could have sworn I recognized him from somewhere else.”
Skye smiled. “Well, the reason you think that is—”
“Really, Stevie, how could you possibly think you know a horse trainer for the movies?” Veronica interrupted with a snide little laugh. “I mean, you’ve barely been out of Virginia.”
Skye frowned at Veronica, then turned back to Stevie. “Anyway, George has acted like he’s resented me from the first day of filming. And now Shev and Marcella are acting weird, too.”
“Weird like how?” asked Carole.
Skye shrugged. “I don’t know. They aren’t friendly at all. If a take doesn’t go well, they always blame me. Yesterday a couple of horses messed up a scene that I wasn’t even in, and they told everybody it was my fault!”
Lisa reached over and gave Skye’s hand a supportive squeeze. “I bet they’re just jealous,” she said. “You’ve got more talent in your little finger than they do in their whole bodies, and they’re just envious!”
“She’s right, Skye,” agreed Carole. “After all, isn’t moviemaking a pretty cutthroat business?”
Skye laughed. “You’ve got that right. I guess this is just the first time my throat’s been the one getting cut!” He made a funny face, then a whole fleet of waiters streamed out of the kitchen, bringing their dinner to the table.
“Wow,” said Lisa after five huge plates of scrumptious-looking food had been spread out before them. “This looks wonderful.”
“Everything smells delicious!” Carole said as she took a bite of perfectly cooked trout.
Stevie looked over at Veronica’s plate, which was covered in a strange multicolored stew. “What did you say that was again, Veronica?”
“Ragoût fin,” Veronica replied, lifting up one pale green morsel of food with her fork. “We often have it at home. I’m sure you’re familiar with it, Skye—”
“Hey, look,” said Skye as a group of people sat down at a nearby table. “There are some people from the production. Excuse me for a moment, girls.”
They watched as Skye got up and greeted the newcomers. None of their faces looked familiar. Apparently, these were people they had not met earlier.
“I guess that’s all we’ll find out about Skye’s set problems tonight,” whispered Stevie as Skye shook hands with a heavyset gray-haired man.
“I think we’ve found out enough,” said Lisa. “I mean, he definitely needs some Saddle Club help.”
“Maybe if we can help him work out his problems with Mabel, then the other problems will go away,” suggested Carole.
“Well, that’s something The Saddle Club can certainly do,” Stevie replied, shooting a look at Veronica. “We may not know movies, but we sure know about difficult horses.”
“Then we’ll have to do everything we can to help him with Mabel,” said Lisa.
They returned to their meals as Skye came back to the table.
“Sorry,” he said, replacing his napkin on his lap. That was my producer. I had to go and say hello.”
“I understand perfectly,” cooed Veronica, daintily taking a bite of her stew. “Business always comes before pleasure. That’s the way it is when you’re successful. Why, if I could tell you the number of times Daddy—”
“Anyway,” Skye continued. “That’s the story. If I would just figure out what’s wrong with Mabel, then maybe certain people on the set would stop thinking I was a jerk.”
“I bet we could figure out what’s bugging Mabel,” Stevie said.
“You think so?” Skye grinned his famous movie-star smile. “Anything you could do would really help me out.”
“Well, first we have to figure out exactly what her bad habits are,” said Carole.
“Yes,” Veronica chimed in. “Like when Red O’Malley figured out that Danny didn’t like to pull on the right side of a cart.”
“What does Mabel like to eat?” asked Stevie. “I broke one of Belle’s bad habits by treating her with bits of carrot.”
“So far her favorite snack has been me.” Skye laughed and held up one nipped finger.
“Well, we’ll have to break her of that,” said Carole. “But that’s easy. What else does she do?”
Skye sighed. “She kicks and bites around other horses, she can’t stand to have her ears touched, and once you dismount, she tries to run away.”
“Whoa,” said Carole. “Sounds like you might need a horse whisperer.”
“A what?” Skye frowned.
“A horse whisperer,” repeated Carole. “Haven’t you ever heard of Monty Roberts’s famous join-up method?”
Skye shook his head. The girls looked at each other, then suddenly everyone was talking at once.
“If she wants to kick, you’ve got to keep her moving forward,” said Carole, spooning sour cream onto her baked potato.
“Or turn her in a big circle,” added Lisa. She took a bite of her fish. “Keep her too busy to get into any mischief.”
“Remember when Belle got that big crush on Starlight and she wouldn’t leave his side for weeks?” Stevie laughed as she buttered a piece of bread.
“Red told me that if your horse tries to bite the horse in front of you, then you need to close your legs around him and keep close contact with his mouth.” Veronica tried to sound as if she knew as much about horses as the other girls did. Nobody paid any attention to her.
The rest of the evening flew by. The girls told Skye all about their problems with Belle, Starlight, Danny, and Prancer and how they’d managed to solve them. By the time the waiter came to gather their plates, Skye looked like his old self again, smiling, laughing, and happy.
“Was everything to your satisfaction?” the waiter asked as he began to remove their plates.
“Everything was wonderful,” said Skye.
“Oh, yes,” agreed Lisa. “I’ve never had a more delicious meal.”
“I have one question,” said Stevie, looking at Veronica’s empty plate.
“Oui, mademoiselle?” The waiter’s dark eyes flashed.
“I’d like to know what was in her dish of ragoût fin.”
“Oh, it is wonderful.” The waiter beamed. “It is full of the freshest asparagus and mushrooms and butter and sweetbreads.”
Stevie frowned. “Sweetbreads?”
“Oui, mademoiselle. Sweetbreads.”
Stevie looked at Veronica, who looked as puzzled as she did. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what sweetbreads are.”
“Uh, they are glands, mademoiselle.”
“Glands?” Stevie looked in horror at Veronica’s plate.
“Oui. The thymus gland of a calf.” The waiter kissed his fingertips. “Magnifique, if I do say so myself.”
“Magnifique, indeed,” chuckled Stevie as Veronica turned another intense shade of green. “I know my friend enjoyed them very much.”
“MAX?” STEVIE TAPPED softly on Max’s door. “Are you awake?”
She pressed her ear against the door. For a moment she heard nothing, then she heard the sound of a lock being turned.
“What’s the matter?” The door cracked open. “Is something wrong?” Max poked his head out into the hallway. His eyes were heavy with sleep, and he’d slung a blue bathrobe around him.
“No, Max, everything’s fine,” Stevie whispered. “We just wondered if you would take us to the Ashford track.”
“The Ashford track?” Max frowned at his wrist, but he wasn’t wearing his watch. “What time is it?”
“It’s a little past five A.M. We wanted to get there early to help Skye with his horse, Mabel.”
Max rubbed his eyes as if this were some kind of bad dream. “Aren’t you guys rid
ing in the Pony Club mounted games at eleven? I’ve got some horses lined up for you.”
“Yes, we’re looking forward to it. But we need to help Skye out first. If we could get a couple of hours in before the Pony Club games, it would be perfect.” Stevie smiled up at him. “Please? It’s just me and Carole and Lisa. Veronica’s sleeping in.”
Max shook his head and yawned. “Oh, okay. I’m up anyway. Meet me downstairs at the rental car in ten minutes.”
“Thanks, Max,” Stevie said as she hurried back to her room. “You’re terrific!”
By five-thirty Max had dropped them at the track and Skye was leading them toward Mabel’s stall. Except for an occasional swish of a tail and chomp of hay, the group’s footsteps were the only noises that echoed through the stable.
“Are we the only ones here?” whispered Carole.
“I think so,” Skye whispered back. “They reserved this barn for the movie horses. All the racetrack trainers are in another barn.”
“So creepy old George isn’t here?” Stevie asked hopefully.
Skye shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to be.” He gave a small laugh. “I’ve noticed George doesn’t make many of the early calls.”
They turned the corner and neared Mabel’s stall. Already her pretty head was sticking out above the door, an anxious, worried look in her eyes.
“Uh-oh,” said Skye. “I think we interrupted her beauty sleep.”
“Let’s all stay back here and approach her one at a time,” suggested Carole. “Maybe crowds are what freak her out.”
“Okay.” Lisa eyed the cranky-looking horse. “Who wants to approach her first?”
“I vote for Carole,” Skye said with a laugh.
Everyone turned and looked expectantly at Carole. She smiled and pulled something from the pocket of her breeches. It was a sandwich bag filled with bits of apple and carrot and several lumps of sugar.
“I figured you guys might volunteer me for this, so I came prepared. Let’s see what works with Miss Mabel.” She took out a small piece of carrot and slowly approached the stall, holding both hands in loose fists and not looking Mabel in the eye. The big mare stomped but didn’t try to kick or shy back in her stall.
“Why is she walking like that?” whispered Skye.
“It’s the Monty Roberts way,” replied Stevie. “If you avoid eye contact, the horse won’t feel threatened.”
Slowly, Carole walked up to the stall, keeping her gaze on the ground. Mabel watched her with her ears pricked. When Carole got to within a foot of the horse’s door, she extended her outstretched palm with the carrot. Mabel made a quick lunge at the tiny morsel of food, nipping Carole’s hand in the process.
“Ouch!” said Carole, jerking her hand back in spite of herself. “She certainly has a hearty appetite.”
“Particularly when fingers are on the menu,” chuckled Skye.
“Let’s try something else,” Carole said, frowning thoughtfully as Mabel chomped her carrot.
This time Carole held out a small piece of apple. Mabel again watched her like a hawk, but when she lunged for the food, Carole jerked her hand back.
“No, no, Mabel,” Carole corrected softly. “That’s not the way to take an apple from someone’s hand.”
She extended her hand again. Again Mabel watched for an opportunity to snap, and again Carole pulled her hand back. After several more tries, it occurred to Mabel that if she approached the apple slowly, it would stay in place for her to nibble.
“There.” Carole smiled as the horse finally took the apple gently, with her lips barely touching Carole’s hand. “Mabel’s just passed her first lesson in table manners.”
Grinning with delight, Skye, Stevie, and Lisa began to clap softly.
“You’re really terrific, Carole,” Skye said. “I didn’t think I’d ever see Mabel behaving this nicely.”
“Well, I don’t think she’s a perfect horse yet,” said Carole, aware of the still-contrary gleam in Mabel’s eyes. “But at least we know she’s smart enough to make some progress.”
For the next hour, they all worked hard with Mabel, cajoling her with bits of apple and lumps of sugar. By seven-fifteen, she allowed Skye to clip a lead line on her halter for the first time since filming had begun.
“Ta-da!” crowed Skye, excited by his success as Mabel allowed him to lead her from her stall. “It’s Mabel the Wonder Horse!”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” laughed Carole. “Even the greenest foals permit lead lines on their halters at six months old. At this rate, I figure Mabel’s only five or six years behind schedule!”
As they worked with her, Mabel became even more gentle. With lots of praise and little bits of apple, they taught her to accept Skye’s leading her and brushing her long, luxurious tail. Skye had just begun to touch one of her sensitive ears when a harsh voice rang out in the stable.
“What do you think you’re doing to that animal?”
They all jumped. Mabel flinched, ready to rear at a moment’s notice. Skye turned around. George Gamble stood there, his mouth pulled down in an ugly frown.
“Uh, hi, George.” Skye tried his best to calm Mabel and talk to George at the same time. He gave him a friendly smile. “The girls and I were just trying to get in a little extra work with Mabel. You know, gentle her a little bit.”
“Oh, really?” George looked at Lisa, Carole, and Stevie and frowned even harder. “Are these girls professional trainers?”
“No—” Skye began.
“Are they accustomed to working with valuable equine actors?”
“Well, no.” Again Skye tried to explain.
“Then they really don’t have any business being on this set at all, do they?” George’s face grew red. “And they certainly don’t have any business being in a production stable at seven-thirty in the morning.”
“They are my guests, George,” Skye said reasonably. “They are here at my invitation.”
“And they are leaving at my invitation!” said George, tapping his riding crop against the side of his boot.
“I think you’re being unfair, George,” protested Skye. “These girls are expert horsewomen. Far better riders than I am.”
“It wouldn’t take much to be a better rider than you, Ransom.” George’s upper lip curled in a snarl. “And let me remind you that as long as I’m in charge of the horses in this production, what I say goes, as far as this stable is concerned! And they go.” He glared at the girls.
For an instant, Skye’s fists clenched in anger; then he turned away from George and smiled at the girls.
“I’m sorry you had to see the ugly side of filmmaking,” he apologized loudly. “Let’s go back to my trailer. The atmosphere is a lot friendlier there!”
With that, Skye handed Mabel’s lead rope to George and led the girls back to his trailer.
“Wow,” Lisa whispered as soon as they were out of George’s earshot. “What’s with that guy? He acts like he hates everybody!”
“Oh, I think mostly he just hates me,” Skye said, shaking his head. “But apparently he can drum up a good case against my friends as well.”
“Don’t worry about it, Skye.” Stevie gave him a reassuring smile. “He’s just a jealous jerk.”
“Yeah,” agreed Carole. “I can tell by the way Mabel responded that you’re a much better horseman than he is, any day.”
When they reached Skye’s trailer, they found Jess there waiting for them.
“Hey, buddy, I’ve got some good news for you!” he said cheerily.
“What is it?” asked Skye. “I could stand some good news right now.”
Jess held up his clipboard. “This is today’s shooting schedule. Guess who’s name isn’t on it until late this afternoon?”
“Mine?” Skye guessed, a grin spreading across his face.
“You got it, buddy. You’re a free man until about four o’clock.”
“Oh, Skye!” cried Lisa. “That’s terrific. Why don’t you come to the Pony Club rally with us
?”
“That would be great,” agreed Stevie. “You can cheer us on in our games!”
Skye sat down on the steps of his trailer, frowning. “That sounds like a lot of fun, but I don’t know. Sometimes my appearance can be … I don’t know … distracting.”
Carole laughed. “You mean when thousands of female fans mob your car and scream for your autograph?”
Skye shrugged. “Well, yeah,” he replied, a sheepish smile on his face. “I’d love to come, but I’d hate to mess stuff up for you guys.”
“No!” Stevie cried. “That wouldn’t mess anything up for us at all. In fact, any diversion you could create would definitely be to our advantage!”
Skye frowned. “How do you figure that?”
“It’s easy,” Lisa laughed. “If all the other girls in the mounted games can’t keep their eyes off you, then our Horse Wise team is sure to win!”
Laughing, Skye shook his head. “I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I’ll be happy to do anything that’ll help your cause.”
Jess laughed along with everybody else. “You want to go over to wardrobe and see if you can find something to make you look a little less like a movie star?”
“No, no!” cried Stevie. “We want him to look like a movie star!”
“I don’t know.” Skye shook his head. “Being mobbed by hundreds of screaming girls can be pretty scary.” He looked at them. “Why don’t you guys hang out in here and I’ll go see what I can come up with.”
“Oh, okay,” said Lisa, laughing.
“If you insist,” Carole agreed.
They sat down in Skye’s trailer while Jess and Skye picked their way between the various surrounding trailers. Stevie sat at Skye’s makeup table, staring at her reflection in the brightly lit mirror.
“Maybe I should become a movie star,” she said dramatically, turning her face to one side and posing with a faraway look in her eyes. “Then thousands of screaming boys would mob me. Phil would be jealous of them all!”
“Thousands of screaming boys might be nice,” agreed Lisa. “But I’m learning that there are a lot of other things about being a movie star that aren’t so hot.”
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