At his thanks Lisa and Stevie felt a twinge of guilt. But it passed quickly, for tomorrow they really would be doing two things for Max: first, moving the tree trunk completely off the trail, and then, bringing him a new jumping student—one with a little bit of experience!
“OH, CAROLE! How wonderful to see you!”
Carole looked at the woman, a total stranger to her, except for the fact that they were apparently related. For that, she got a hug.
“You’ve grown so!” said another person—cousin Fred, she thought.
“Isn’t she the image of Mitch!”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I think she’s got Grandfather William’s eyes. And her nose—well, that’s the exact same as your brother’s was.”
Carole was quite befuddled. For one thing, she was starting to feel as if she’d been made of spare parts. For another, she couldn’t remember anybody’s name, and they all remembered hers. Everyone also seemed to know things about her that she didn’t know, like who her relatives were.
“Well, Carole, this is your second cousin Jack.” Carole shook the young man’s hand, not having the faintest idea how she’d ever gotten a second cousin. “He’s Eloise’s boy,” Aunt Joanna said, as if that explained everything.
There were more than thirty relatives at the house, and Carole knew only a few of them. She swore to herself that she’d ask her father to help her construct a family tree that very evening so she could begin to understand where all these people came from.
Once Carole had been hugged by everybody there, it was time to work on the meal they would all share. Everybody seemed to want to pitch in and help on the food, and that made it even more confusing. Carole and Sheila carried a big vat of cole slaw between them, and somebody provided two large bowls for serving it. The two girls tilted the vat while somebody—cousin Eloise? or was it Elsa?—scooped it into the bowls.
“How many Hansons does it take to serve cole slaw?” Carole asked, mimicking the light-bulb jokes that had been so popular a while back.
“Oh, see! I told you! She’s just like her father!” cried out a cousin from the corner of the kitchen. “She loves old jokes, too!”
It seemed that today Carole wasn’t even going to be allowed to call her sense of humor her own. She decided she should just relax and enjoy it.
Somebody handed Carole a plate of vegetables and dip and told her to find a place to put it. Carole took the plate to a table that wasn’t completely overloaded and set it there. Then she sampled some of the cauliflower—her favorite, as long as it was raw. She never much liked it cooked. She was savoring the deliciously spicy dip when Aunt Joanna approached her with somebody she assumed was another long-lost relative. This time it was a woman about Aunt Joanna’s age.
“Carole, I want you to meet Midge Ford,” said Aunt Joanna, and then she disappeared, leaving Carole with the newest guest at the party.
Carole smiled broadly and reached out to give the woman what she’d come to understand was the standard family hug.
The woman returned the hug, but seemed a little surprised.
“How are we related?” Carole asked politely and braced herself for an explanation about Uncle Fritz’s second wife’s first cousin.
“We’re not,” Midge said. “I’m the one nonrelative here, I guess. Joanna just told me there was a gettogether, and I should be here because there would be so many interesting people.”
Then Carole remembered. This was the woman Joanna had invited for her father.
“I had no idea it was really a family reunion. I feel kind of awkward because I don’t know anybody here—except Joanna and now you.”
Carole said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Don’t worry. I don’t know anybody here, either. And I think a lot of them don’t as well,” she said, gesturing to the sea of relatives. “Just tell them that you’re cousin Elbert’s second daughter by his third wife, and they’ll all hug you.”
“Because nobody wants to admit they don’t remember me?”
“Or cousin Elbert …”
Midge began laughing. She had a nice laugh. Carole liked that.
“The least I can do is carry my own weight here and pitch in to help. What needs to be done?” Midge asked.
Carole looked around. It seemed that just about every flat surface was covered with a food that was somebody’s specialty. She also knew that the kitchen was mobbed with relatives who were putting the finishing touches on something or other. There really didn’t seem to be anything to do, and she was telling Midge this when her father approached.
“Hi, honey, how’s it going?” he asked, giving her yet another hug. Carole thought she was probably into triple digits on hugs for the day already, but she could never have enough of the ones that came from her dad. She hugged him back.
She noticed that her father was looking at Midge then, as if trying to place her. Carole decided to help.
“Dad, this is Midge Ford. She’s cousin Elbert’s second daughter by his third wife.…”
A confused look came across the Colonel’s face, and then it cleared. “Midge Ford,” he said. “You’re Joanna’s friend, aren’t you? The one she’s trying to fix me up with?”
“Yes, I am,” she said. “And you must be Mitch Hanson—the ‘single’ brother she won’t stop talking about.”
“Guilty,” he said, offering her his hand. They shook. “And I see you’ve already met my daughter.”
“Yes, I have, and we’ve already had a laugh together.”
“Well, then, let me introduce you to some more of the family,” Colonel Hanson said. “And did you try the punch? I’m told that one bowl is alcohol free and the other has some of Edgar’s homemade brew in it, but nobody will say which is which. Are you bold enough to try?”
“Definitely,” said Midge. She laughed again and walked off with Carole’s father.
Carole looked around for a few seconds, not sure which way to turn. She spotted Sheila then, surrounded by younger cousins. She didn’t know for sure what they were talking about, but she heard words like “saddle” and “conformation” coming out of the group, so she was, naturally, drawn to it. Her suspicions were correct. They were talking about horses.
“But just exactly what is the difference between Western and Eastern riding?” one young cousin asked.
“English,” Sheila said, correcting her automatically. “There are a lot of differences, which mostly have to do with their original purposes being different. A lot of English riding developed from military use of horses. Some, too, from use of horses in hunting. Western riding was all work—cattle work. The tack in each type of riding is different.”
“And the horses, too, are they different?”
“Yes and no,” Sheila said. It was a complicated question, and Carole could tell by the look on Sheila’s face that she was eager to answer it.
Carole smiled. This was right up her alley, and Sheila seemed to be as interested in giving a complete answer as Carole herself would have been. Carole’s friends sometimes teased her that she had many more complete answers than they did questions and she could go on and on a lot. She took their teasing good-naturedly, but it was a relief to be with someone who liked to share information as much as she did.
“Each breed of horse has distinct strengths,” Sheila began. “English riders like to use Thoroughbreds or ‘warmbloods’ because they are so graceful and fast and such good jumpers. Cowboys would generally choose a quarter horse. They’re admired for their bursts of speed, which come in handy chasing after dogies on the range. Then there are horses like the Morgans, who have incredible strength and endurance.…”
Carole was with her all the way. She added that Arabians were known for their endurance as well as their beauty, but on the Arabian desert, perhaps their finest trait was their ability to go without water for long periods of time.
“Not too long, though. Of course, they can become dehydrated, just like people can.”
“And then there are dr
aught horses that aren’t really either English or Western, but are meant to pull loads—”
Suddenly Sheila and Carole looked at each other. They had lost their audience. All the younger kids had wandered away from them, drawn to another room by a new video game.
“Uh-oh,” Sheila said.
“Don’t worry. It happens to me all the time,” Carole comforted her. “Nobody in the world cares about horses as much as I do—and my best friends, of course.”
“Except me,” said Sheila.
That was true. Even though the audience of younger kids was gone, it didn’t mean Carole and Sheila couldn’t talk about horses. So they did.
Sheila knew Carole’s horse was named Starlight, but she didn’t know much more about the horse. Carole took the opportunity to fill her in on all the wonderful details. Sheila had some suggestions about further training for the horse, but she certainly agreed that most of what Carole was doing was just right.
“Especially since it’s working,” Sheila concluded. “It is, isn’t it?”
“It sure is,” Carole agreed. “We were at a horse show not long ago, and we did very well. Came in second overall.”
“That’s great. My parents wish I could do that.”
They were nearing a subject Carole was curious about but didn’t want to raise. She waited to see what else Sheila would share.
“Maverick and I are like one person,” Sheila said. “We’ve been riding together for so long that I just can’t imagine what it would be like to ride another horse. And I don’t want to find out, either. I mean, I wouldn’t mind riding another horse now and again, but I can’t stand the idea that Maverick and I wouldn’t be together again. I love him so much.…”
“Everybody! Everybody! May I have your attention, please!” It was Uncle Willie. The whole family quieted down for Uncle Willie’s announcement. “It’s time for a little softball game in the backyard. I’m captain of one of the teams. Mitch here claims he’s too good to be a captain. He’s going to be the colonel of the other!” There was laughter. “Everybody up for softball. We’re going to choose up sides. Knowing which side my bread is buttered on, I call for Joanna first!”
Teams formed quickly and the game began. It was followed by some volleyball and then a wonderful meal. By the end of the day, as darkness fell, the family members turned to quieter moments and, finally, singing. Carole was surprised to find that there was a whole group of people who knew many of the same silly songs that her father had been teaching her since the first time she could sing. Her favorite was one about a little froggy who jumped from lily pad to lily pad all day long, accomplishing nothing at all. She always liked it when she and her dad sang it together. Now she found she liked it even better when thirty people sang it all at the same time. Even though she’d never met most of them, or didn’t remember meeting them until today, they seemed to be bound together by more than the fortune of their births. They were bound by a family tradition that crossed generational lines, as well as state borders. This was family. Carole found she liked it.
When the last note had been sounded, and the last paper plate put in the last plastic bag, it was time to fold up the last of the chairs and get ready to go back to Aunt Joanna’s.
Carole and Midge seemed to be the ones working on the chairs. Carole hadn’t seen much of Midge since they’d left Joanna’s house, but when she had seen her, she’d been near Mitch Hanson. Both her father and Midge seemed to be smiling a lot. It gave Carole a funny feeling. She loved her father and wanted him to be happy, but she felt a certain loyalty to Mrs. Dana. Yet she liked Midge. Still she didn’t know how she would feel if her father actually married somebody. Dating was one thing. Living with somebody else was another.
“I like your family,” Midge said.
“So do I,” Carole said.
“I hope I get to see more of them,” said Midge.
“I hope you do, too,” said Carole. She meant it, too. And she found that even more confusing.
Carole had learned that there were some things in life she wasn’t going to understand, and these confused feelings were among them. She shrugged, picked up the next chair, folded it, and handed it to Midge to put on the pile. The reunion was over. She’d had a wonderful time and met lots of relatives she liked. She’d also met a nonrelative she liked. What was the big deal about that?
Now it was time to start hugging people all over again—this time to say good-bye. When the last hug had been hugged, Carole and her dad climbed into Uncle Willie’s car for the drive home. Carole was exhausted. She fell asleep in the car, dreaming about family, food, games, songs—and Midge Ford.
STEVIE AND LISA were so excited about their secret that they could barely keep from telling Alice. But they knew, as they set out on their trail ride on Sunday, that Alice would find out soon enough.
“You’re going to love the trails here,” Stevie said to her. “They’re beautiful, and fun to ride. They just always seem to have surprises for us, too.”
“You mean you get lost?” Alice asked. She sounded a little nervous.
“No, we don’t get lost,” Lisa assured her. “Even if we did, the horses would always be able to find the way home. They’re like the pigeons who always know where to go. The horses always know where to go to get food and water!”
It was true. More than one horse had brought an unwary rider back to the stables simply because the rider hadn’t taken control of the horse. That wasn’t going to happen with the three of them, though. Stevie and Lisa knew exactly where they were going.
It was fun for them to have a new rider to whom they could introduce all the wonderful things about Pine Hollow and the surrounding trails. The girls talked easily, with Stevie and Lisa filling Alice in on all the fun they’d been having riding at Pine Hollow.
They told her about the mock hunt and the fox hunt; they told her about the time they’d helped the police uncover a ring of horsenappers; they told her about the time the colt, Samson, had been stuck in the briars and Carole had rescued him.
“Remember the first time we took you on a trail ride?” Stevie asked Lisa.
She did. She remembered that they’d gone through a field that had a bull in it, and they had to jump a four-foot-high fence to get away from him! That memory could still make Lisa’s heart skip a beat.
“Sure,” Lisa said, trying to shift the topic. “And remember the time we had to ride like crazy to get away from a forest fire?”
“A forest fire?” Alice asked. She looked around at the woods and didn’t see any sign of damage.
“It wasn’t here,” Lisa explained. “We were on a pack trip in the Rockies.”
“It must have been scary,” said Alice.
“It was. Especially when we had to jump our Western-trained horses over a fallen tree. Western saddles were definitely not made for jumping. Not like these, I mean.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Alice said.
From Alice’s tone of voice Lisa could tell that Alice wasn’t interested in hearing more about jumping and how wonderful it was. But Lisa hoped that would all change after her first successful experience, which would occur in just a few minutes. They were nearing the spot on the trail where they’d left the tree trunk.
“Let’s trot now,” Stevie said.
“Is the ground smooth enough?” Alice asked.
“Oh, sure,” Stevie said. “In fact, up ahead it gets even smoother and we can canter. Are you ready?”
“Definitely,” Alice said. “I’m having a great time with you two. I just like to be on the safe side.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Stevie said as she signaled Topside to begin trotting.
“Trust us,” Lisa said from behind. “You’re safe with us all the way.”
“I know,” Alice said. “You’re my kind of riders!”
The horses all began trotting then. Lisa held her breath. The tree was less than fifty yards away now. Stevie, in the lead, began cantering. That was the safest way to
approach a jump. Starlight followed, just about twenty feet behind. Lisa, twenty feet behind Alice and Starlight, cantered as well.
Then, as Lisa knew it would, the path veered quite sharply to the left. They’d placed the jump about ten feet after the turn. Lisa listened carefully for the sound of Topside’s jump, but couldn’t hear it. She urged Barq forward then. She didn’t want to miss Alice’s jump.
The second Stevie landed, she drew Topside to the side of the trail and turned him around. She just had to see the look on Alice’s face when she went over her first jump.
Starlight came around the bend at a rapid canter. He didn’t even bat an eye when he spotted the tree trunk across the trail. He maintained his speed, and then just as if he’d been born to do it, he rose, pushing off with his strong rear legs and soaring over the obstacle.
Stevie couldn’t contain her excitement.
“Wasn’t that wonderful?” she asked, riding over to where Alice had drawn Starlight to a halt. “You did it perfectly. We knew you would. You’re a natural jumper!”
Barq and Lisa completed the jump then and drew up beside Alice and Stevie.
“Wasn’t it great?” Lisa asked. “Jumps in a ring are fine, but the best ones are the natural obstacles. Starlight knew just what to do, didn’t he?”
Alice hadn’t said anything, and that became the first indication to Lisa that maybe something was wrong.
“Are you all right?” Lisa asked.
“Of course she’s all right,” Stevie said, dismissing the question. “She jumped like the champion we knew she would be. She’s not just all right. She’s wonderful.”
“You planned this?” Alice asked the girls.
“Sure did,” Stevie said proudly. “And it worked, didn’t it? Now you have a whole new thing to learn about riding. Not that there’s much to learn, considering how well you went over your first jump!”
“You intentionally put that log where I wouldn’t see it and where Starlight would just go over it?”
“It took a while to find the right place,” Stevie said. “But we obviously picked the perfect one, right?”
Beach Ride Page 4