IS THERE ANYTHING VERONICA CAN’T HAVE?
Stevie watched, dumbfounded, as Veronica pulled out a credit card and paid. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered to her friends. “She’s buying my bridle! It’s just not fair.”
“She’s just doing it to make you mad,” Carole whispered back soothingly.
“Well, it’s working,” Stevie snapped. She glowered at Veronica, but the other girl didn’t even glance at The Saddle Club as she took the bag from the clerk and sauntered out of the store.
“What a jerk,” Lisa said when Veronica had gone. “Maybe we should be glad we’re not rich like her, if that’s what money does to your personality.”
The salesclerk walked over to them. “Hello, girls,” she said pleasantly. “I noticed you were looking at the bridle that young lady just bought. Are you interested in it? I have another one just like it in the back.”
“No, thank you,” Stevie said. “I’ll just take this.” She held up the cheek strap. “I don’t have enough money for a whole new bridle.”
But as the woman turned to lead her back to the cash register, Carole and Lisa heard Stevie mutter under her breath, “Not yet, anyway.”
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HORSE CRAZY (The Saddle Club #1) by Bonnie Bryant
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RL 5, 009–012
HORSE-SITTERS
A Skylark Book / April 1996
Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.
“The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1996 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
“USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of The United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.
eISBN: 978-0-307-82551-3
Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.
v3.1
I would like to express my special thanks
to Catherine Hapka for her
help in the writing of this book.
Contents
Cover
Other Books You Will Enjoy
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
“OKAY. I’M FINISHED,” Stevie Lake said, licking the last few drops of tomato sauce off her fingers. “Let’s go. I want to get to The Saddlery before it closes.”
Stevie—short for Stephanie—and her two best friends, Carole Hanson and Lisa Atwood, were at the mall near their hometown of Willow Creek, Virginia. They had just finished a post-riding-lesson snack at the pizza parlor.
“Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. It’s too bad about your bridle,” Lisa told Stevie sympathetically, pulling her wallet out of her backpack. “You haven’t had it very long.”
That day in riding class one of the cheek straps on Stevie’s bridle had snapped in two. She was planning to buy a new cheek strap at The Saddlery, the tack shop at the mall. “I know. But I’m not surprised. I bought it secondhand, and it was pretty well worn when I got it.” Stevie shrugged. “But it was the best I could afford.”
Carole peered into her change purse glumly. “Speaking of affording things, I hope I can afford that pizza I just ate,” she commented, pouring a small pile of pennies onto the table. “I’m practically broke. Thanks to the library fines for that book I just found under my bed, I’m already borrowing against next week’s allowance.”
Lisa giggled. “I still can’t believe you lost a book under your bed for six months.” Lisa was very neat and organized, and it was sometimes hard for her to understand how disorganized Stevie and Carole could be. Stevie cared much more about having fun than about being organized and responsible. She was so messy and chaotic that her parents had long ago declared her bedroom a national disaster area. Carole could also be disorganized, but in a different way. She could be flaky, and she tended to forget what she was doing—except at the stable. There, Carole was anything but scatterbrained.
But Lisa knew that their different personalities were part of what made the three of them friends. In fact, they were such good friends that they had formed The Saddle Club. It had only two rules: Members had to be horse-crazy, and they had to be willing to help one another out. The first part was no problem, since all three girls loved riding together at Pine Hollow Stables. Their riding instructor and the owner of Pine Hollow, Max Regnery, liked to say that The Saddle Club spent more time at the stable than he did. The second part was usually easy, too—although in the case of overdue library books there was little that even the best of friends could do other than sympathize.
“Chad once lost two library books under his bed for a whole year,” Stevie commented. Chad was the oldest of her three brothers. “He had to get a newspaper route just to pay the fines.”
Lisa put some money on the table. “I can lend you a dollar if you need it, Carole,” she offered. “That’s all I have left. I spent all my extra cash on a subscription to that photography magazine.”
“At least I’m not the only one who’s broke this time,” Stevie said as Lisa counted the money on the table to make sure it was enough. Stevie’s parents paid her a weekly allowance, but it usually took her much less than a week to spend it.
“Do you have enough to buy a new cheek strap?” Carole asked.
“Barely,” Stevie replied. She sighed. “I wish I could buy Belle a whole new bridle. That old one is so ratty-looking. My horse deserves better.”
“Sure she does,” Carole said. “But bridles are expensive, and Belle doesn’t care what her tack looks like as long as it’s clean and in good working condition.”
“But I care,” Stevie said. “Belle is so beautiful. A new bridle would make her look even better.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she teased. “Is this my friend Stevie Lake, fashion plate, talking?”
Stevie glanced down at her wrinkled T-shirt and patched, faded jeans and grinned. “Hey, I may not be much of a fashion plate, but Belle could be if she had half a chance.”
“I know what you mean, Stevie,” said Carole as the three friends left the restaurant and strolled toward the Saddlery, which was located at the other end of the mall. “But the tr
uth is, there are more important things than how a horse looks. And Belle is all those things. Look how well she did today.”
“She did do well, didn’t she?” Stevie said proudly. That day in their riding class, they had begun teaching their horses to do a trotting half-pass, a dressage movement in which a horse moves diagonally, spine straight and head bent in the direction it’s going. All the horses could perform the move at a walk, but it was a new challenge to learn it at a trot. Belle was the only horse that had performed the trotting half-pass almost perfectly.
“I’m sure it didn’t hurt that you and Belle have been practicing that move outside of class for the last month,” Lisa teased, dodging a stroller pushed by a distracted shopper.
“Did you notice who else was doing well?” Carole commented.
“You mean Veronica and Danny?” Lisa said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Veronica diAngelo was a better-than-average rider, and her horse, Danny, was gorgeous, well bred, and perfectly trained. But that didn’t mean The Saddle Club liked her. The spoiled rich girl was snobby and sneaky, and she liked nothing better than making herself look good at someone else’s expense.
“They did pretty well, too,” Carole said grudgingly. “But that wasn’t who I meant. I was talking about Polly and Romeo.” Polly Giacomin was another member of their class. She owned her own horse, a lively chocolate-brown gelding named Romeo. Romeo was making excellent progress in dressage. He was smart and eager, and Polly had been working hard on his training.
“I noticed that, too,” Stevie said. “Romeo’s pretty talented.” She kicked at an empty paper cup that someone had dropped on the mall floor. “Besides, Polly’s parents bought her all that beautiful new tack when she got him. He could hardly help doing well in that.”
Carole and Lisa exchanged glances. They both knew that a horse couldn’t care less what its tack looked like. They also knew that Stevie knew that, and that she was just feeling grumpy because she couldn’t afford a new bridle for Belle.
Carole decided it was time to change the subject. “Isn’t Deborah’s aunt coming to visit soon?” she asked, stooping to retrieve the paper cup and dumping it in a nearby trash can. Deborah was Max’s wife. She was an investigative reporter for a newspaper in nearby Washington, D.C.
“It’s her great-aunt,” Lisa corrected. “Her name is Eugenia. Doesn’t that sound old-fashioned? She’s arriving on Thursday. When I was in the tack room today I overheard Deborah talking to Mrs. Reg about picking her up.”
“From the airport?” Stevie asked.
“No,” Lisa said, pausing for a second to glance in the window of the bookstore. “They were talking about driving to get her in one of Max’s horse trailers. I guess she lives a couple of hours away, and she’s bringing her own horse with her.”
“Really?” Carole said, suddenly looking more interested. Someone who would bring a horse along on a family visit sounded like someone she’d like to meet. “What kind of horse?”
“I don’t know, Carole,” Lisa said with a laugh. “I told you, I just overheard part of the conversation.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Carole said. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Max doesn’t seem to be looking forward to her visit, though, does he?” Stevie commented. “Every time Deborah mentions her great-aunt, he starts stammering and looking nervous in that weird way he has. Did you notice?”
“You’re right,” Lisa said thoughtfully. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but I did notice it. I wonder what that’s all about.”
Carole shrugged. “I have no idea,” she said. “It’s not as if he’s meeting her for the first time—he and Deborah went to visit her right after their wedding. And after all, how bad could a fellow horseperson be?”
“I have two words for you in answer to that,” Stevie said, raising her voice to be heard above a gaggle of small children who were rushing by toward the toy store. “Veronica diAngelo.”
Carole rolled her eyes. “She certainly has been annoying lately, hasn’t she?” she said. “After Danny’s great performance in class today you’d think Veronica would at least give him a pat or something. But instead she just tossed the reins to Red the second she dismounted.” Red O’Malley was Pine Hollow’s head stable hand. Even though riders were supposed to do their share of the stable chores, including taking care of the horses they rode, Veronica usually treated Red as her personal servant.
The girls had reached The Saddlery. As soon as they entered, Stevie headed for the section of the store that held bins and baskets of small tack pieces. Carole and Lisa stood by the entrance for a moment, looking around and breathing in the rich leathery smell.
“I’m going to check out the clothing rack,” Lisa decided. “I want to see if they still have those schooling chaps I tried on last month.”
Carole nodded. She remembered the beautiful soft leather chaps. They had fit Lisa perfectly. They were expensive, though—if Lisa saved her allowance for months she still couldn’t afford them. But Carole knew her friend couldn’t resist looking at them every time she was in the store.
“I guess I’ll just browse,” Carole said, wandering toward a shelf full of books and videos near the cash register. She flipped through several of the books. She liked reading anything she could get her hands on about horses and riding, and her room at home held a small library of books and magazines she had bought or received as gifts. But more often she just borrowed books from the Willow Creek Public Library. It was usually cheaper that way—unless, of course, she happened to misplace one of the books under her bed.
A large red box caught her eye. It was a set of videos called The Complete Horse. Carole picked it up and read the back of the box.
“What are you looking at?” Lisa asked from behind her.
Carole jumped, startled. “Oh! It’s this,” she said, handing the box to Lisa.
Lisa scanned the description of the contents. “Wow,” she said, and read aloud: “ ‘This nine-video set is the answer to every serious horseman’s prayers. Volume one, the breeds …’ It sounds like they cover every breed of horse known to man.” She read a little more, then said, “The rest of the tapes sound just as interesting. Here’s one on show training and dressage, one on equine medicine, another on the history of the horse, another on everything you need to know to run your own sta—”
“I have to have it,” Carole interrupted excitedly. “It sounds great.”
Lisa flipped over the box and glanced at the price tag. “Wow,” she said again. “All this knowledge doesn’t come cheap.”
Carole looked at the tag, too. Her face fell. “Oh well,” she said quietly. She didn’t even bother to calculate how long it would take her to save the necessary amount. “Maybe my dad will buy it for me for Christmas.”
“I was just thinking the same thing about those chaps,” Lisa said sadly. “The worst part is, they’re actually on sale right now. But they’re still more than I can afford.”
“Come on,” Carole said, carefully sliding The Complete Horse back onto the shelf. “Let’s go see how Stevie’s doing.”
They found her at the other end of the store in front of a rack full of brand-new bridles. “Any luck, Stevie?” Carole asked.
Stevie nodded and held up a new cheek strap. But her eyes were trained on one of the bridles in front of her. “Would you look at that?” she said, gesturing at it. “Wouldn’t that look perfect on Belle?”
Her friends had to agree that it would. The bridle was made of buttery-soft leather. The noseband was stitched and the reins were braided.
“It’s beautiful,” Lisa said sincerely.
Stevie reached up and carefully took down the bridle. She read the price tag and frowned. “It’s not fair,” she complained. “Why does it have to cost so much?”
Before her friends could answer, they all heard the tinkling of the bell above the door, and then a familiar commanding voice.
“Excuse me. You there. Do you have any bro
wn bootlaces?” Veronica demanded of the salesclerk.
The woman stepped forward. “Of course, miss,” she said. “They’re right over here. What length do you need?”
Veronica ignored the clerk’s question. She had just noticed The Saddle Club. “Well, well, well,” she said, strolling over to them. “If it isn’t show-off Stevie and her little fan club. You thought you were pretty clever in class today, didn’t you? But I know the truth. I saw you practicing that trotting half-pass last week.”
“So what?” Stevie asked, annoyed.
“So I’m going to tell Max,” Veronica replied. “I know you’re just trying to show up the rest of us, and he should know it, too.”
Carole and Lisa tried to stifle their giggles. Veronica was really stretching to pick a fight this time. First of all, Max already knew that Stevie and Belle had been practicing. It was obvious. No horse could do a trotting half-pass that well on the first try. Second, there was no reason at all Max would mind a student practicing her skills outside of class. Obviously that idea was foreign to Veronica.
“If you spent less time shopping and more time riding, maybe you and Danny could be almost as good as Belle and I are,” Stevie retorted. “Then again, probably not.” She turned her back on Veronica and hung the bridle back on its hook.
“What’s that?” Veronica asked. She snatched the bridle down again and turned it over in her hands. “Hmm, this is nice. I’m surprised you would even bother to look at it, Stevie. It’s much too expensive for you.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Stevie said. “You’re not the only one who can buy nice things, you know. And this bridle will look great on Belle.”
“You may be right,” Veronica said sweetly. “Does that mean you’re buying it for her? After all, you saw it first.” She waited a moment. Stevie was silent. “Oh, good. I’ll take that as a no. Because the truth is, this bridle will look fabulous on Danny.” She marched over to the counter, where the salesclerk was waiting with the bootlaces. “I’ll take this, too,” she said loudly, laying the bridle on the counter.
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