Back in the Saddle

by Bonnie Bryant

  Stevie hid a smile. That explains why they’re here, she thought. Veronica would never go anyplace she actually thought was cool. Otherwise, some of her cool friends might see her with Blinkin’ Lincoln.

  “So I guess you guys are here working on your budget, huh?” Stevie said innocently, leaning against the edge of their booth. “How’s that going so far?”

  “What do you care?” Veronica snapped. “Now if you don’t mind, we’re busy.”

  Stevie smiled sweetly. She wasn’t about to let Veronica’s obnoxious comments get to her. Not when she had a story to do. “I know,” she said, glancing at Zach with an even bigger smile. “This marriage project is turning out to be more work than we thought, huh?”

  Zach shrugged his angular shoulders. “Then why are you looking so happy about it?” he asked bluntly.

  “Oh, I just think it’s really interesting,” Stevie replied smoothly, taking her grin down a notch. She’d forgotten how truly weird Zach actually was. People had always given him a hard time because of the tic above his eye, but she suspected that his personality would have been enough to make him an outcast even without that. “Um, I mean, it’s fascinating to see the teamwork that can happen between two people with such different backgrounds. What do you think?”

  Veronica stared at her suspiciously. “Why do you care what we think?” she said. “Mind your own business.”

  “Yeah, you’d better watch it, Stevie,” Zach put in. “My dear wife isn’t very friendly, you know. Sort of like a lifetime companion and a vicious guard dog rolled into one.”

  Veronica snorted, looking more irritated than angry at Zach’s comment. “That’s funny, coming from someone who could scare all kinds of pets away just by looking at them.”

  The waitress appeared at that moment with two glasses of water. “Oh,” she said when she saw Stevie. “Are there going to be three of you?”

  “No,” Veronica said icily, “there aren’t.”

  The waitress shrugged. “Okay. Are you ready to order?”

  “We’ll need a minute,” Veronica replied curtly before Zach could say a word. “We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

  The waitress raised an eyebrow at Veronica’s imperious tone. She shrugged again and turned away.

  “So anyway,” Stevie said brightly, deciding the conversation had veered a little too far off the topic, “back to the project. I thought your vows were very interesting. Very poetic. Whose idea was that stuff about walking together through the garden of life?”

  Veronica shrugged and wiped the edge of her water glass with her napkin. “If you must know, those were the vows my sappy cousin wrote for her wedding last spring. I figured Miss Fenton would lap that stuff up.”

  “Really?” Stevie pricked up her ears at that. “Plagiarizing vows? Doesn’t sound like such a hot way to start off a lifetime of bliss to me. I’m sure my readers are going to be very interested in that.”

  “Readers?” Veronica asked quickly. “What readers? What are you talking about?”

  Stevie winced. She hadn’t meant to let Veronica know that she was writing about her for the Sentinel. “Um, nothing,” she said quickly, wishing she’d kept her big mouth shut.

  Veronica narrowed her eyes skeptically. “Come on. Spill,” she said. “What are you up to? I should’ve wondered that from the start. It’s not like you’re usually dying to stop by and chat.”

  “Okay, fine.” Stevie gave in. Veronica might be obnoxious, but she wasn’t stupid. Now that her suspicions were raised, she wasn’t likely to give up until she figured out the truth. “I guess you might as well know. I’m planning to feature the two of you in my article about the marriage project.” She waved an arm to include Zach. “You’re going to be one of the three couples I use to illustrate what the project’s all about.”

  “Are you clinical?” Veronica demanded furiously. “You can’t write about me in some stupid newspaper article. I never gave you permission for that.”

  Stevie snorted. Maybe Veronica wasn’t stupid, but sometimes she could be so clueless that it was downright laughable. “No kidding,” she said. “Do you think Woodward and Bernstein got permission from everyone they were writing about before their story broke?”

  “What?” Veronica scowled. “Who cares about your geeky newspaper friends? I just want you to promise you won’t write a single word about me.”

  “Fat chance.” Deciding that the moment for undercover reporting was way past, Stevie whipped her small notebook out of her jeans pocket. “So Zach, do you want to go on record with any comments about your partnership with Veronica so far?”

  Zach glanced up from his straw wrapper, which he seemed to be fashioning into some kind of animal. “Sure,” he said immediately. “I want the world to know that I was forced into this marriage against my will. It’s spouse abuse, I tell you. Besides, I would never marry someone like her.” He jerked his head toward Veronica, his tic dancing wildly and his small brown eyes gleaming with mischief. Or was it malice? Stevie couldn’t tell. “She’s way too shallow. She wants to spend our entire budget on designer clothes and manicures.”

  “Shut up!” Veronica whirled toward her husband with fury in her eyes. “Don’t egg her on, you idiot. She’ll probably actually print that stuff in the paper, you know!”

  Zach shrugged and sipped his water calmly. “The truth will come out, and I shall be hailed as a martyr of my gender. And my species.”

  Veronica just stared at Zach for a moment, looking as though she wanted to throttle him right then and there. Instead, she turned on Stevie. “Look,” she said vehemently. “Consider this a warning, okay? If you print one word about me in your pathetic little article, you’ll be sorry.”

  Stevie grinned. This is even better than I thought, she gloated silently. Veronica’s obnoxiousness is bringing out Zach’s inner weirdo, and vice versa. It’s the perfect vicious circle, with the emphasis on vicious. And it’s going to make great reading!

  “A good journalist never lets threats and intimidation stop her,” she said, vaguely recalling a line she’d heard in a movie or somewhere. “We still have a little thing called freedom of the press in this country, remember?”

  On that note, she turned and hurried away. Behind her, she could hear Veronica berating Zach for speaking up. Stevie grinned. This was going to be fun.

  When she reached their booth, Spike was just climbing to his feet. “Yo,” he said. “I’ve got to roll. But don’t worry—I finished the budget.”

  “Really?” Stevie frowned. “You mean, you actually did it right? As in, you allotted money for something other than beer?”

  “Uh-huh. I swear. I worked in all the essentials.” Spike shrugged. “It’s not so hard, really—just prioritizing. Right?”

  “Right,” Stevie replied cautiously. The guest speaker that day, a financial adviser, had spent a lot of time talking about prioritizing. Stevie was a little amazed that Spike had been paying enough attention to pick up on that. “Well, okay. Let me see it.”

  “No, no!” Spike slid the notebook behind his back and waggled one finger playfully in her face. “Come on. We’re married, remember? We’ve got to trust each other. And trust me, the budget is totally done.”

  Stevie shrugged impatiently. She didn’t have time to stand around playing games with Spike. For one thing, she wanted to get home and make a few notes for her article while her little chat with Zach and Veronica was fresh in her mind. If she left now, she would have just enough time to do that and run a brush through her hair before it was time to go and meet Phil.

  “Fine,” she told Spike, glad that he’d apparently made himself useful for once. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

  “What about the phone bill?” Callie asked, leaning closer to study the sheets that Corey had set out on the wooden mounting block.

  Corey smacked himself on the forehead. “Darn! I knew I was going to forget something.” He smiled sheepishly and punched a few numbers into the calculator he’d brought.
“Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t apologize!” Callie exclaimed. “I mean, please. You practically did the whole assignment yourself before you even got here.”

  “It was no big deal. I had a study hall today.” Corey studied the numbers on the calculator and then started adjusting some of the figures in the chart he’d made.

  Meanwhile, Callie glanced around the indoor ring. She’d asked Corey to meet her at Pine Hollow to work on their budget, since the hours of daylight she had for riding were getting shorter and she didn’t want to waste a minute. The beginning riding class was out on the trails with Red O’Malley, and there were no other lessons scheduled that day as far as she knew, so she hoped they’d have the ring to themselves long enough to get their assignment finished.

  “There,” Corey said after a moment, nodding with satisfaction. “I think that should do it. We managed to allot enough funds for all the necessities—including a working phone—plus a decent amount for savings. And we still have enough left over for fun. How about a Caribbean vacation?”

  Callie smiled. “Sounds good to me,” she said. “I’m sure Jamaica’s nice this time of year.” She sneaked a peek at her watch, estimating how long it would take her to tack up Barq and set up some cavalletti in the schooling ring.

  “Got a date?” Corey joked.

  Callie blushed, realizing her time check hadn’t been quite as subtle as she’d intended. “Sort of,” she replied. “With a horse.”

  “Well, I guess a husband can’t really be jealous of that.” Corey grinned and tucked his pen and calculator back in his backpack. “Anyway, I think we’re all set for today. I’d better take off and leave you to your hundred-mile ride or whatever.”

  Callie nodded and smiled gratefully. “Thanks. And thanks again for doing all that extra work in your study hall. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

  Corey finished packing his things away, then the two of them headed toward the entrance of the indoor ring. The wide wooden doors were propped open, and they paused in the doorway. “Okay, then,” Corey said cheerfully. “I guess I’ll see you tomor—”

  “Callie?” a new voice interrupted. “What are you doing in there?”

  Callie glanced across the stable entryway. George had just emerged from the stable aisle with his mare, Joyride, in tow. He was frowning at her and Corey.

  Biting back a sigh, Callie forced a smile. “Hi, George,” she said. “You know Corey, right?” The two guys didn’t run in the same crowd—actually, George didn’t run with any crowd, as far as Callie could tell—but Fenton Hall was a fairly small school. Almost everyone there knew just about everyone else, by sight at least.

  George shrugged. “Sure,” he said, staring rather suspiciously at the other guy. “I just didn’t know he was a rider.”

  “I’m not,” Corey said easily, giving George a friendly smile. “But it just so happens I’ve married a woman who spends all her time at the stable.”

  “Callie is a great rider,” George agreed quickly. “She’s won all kinds of endurance races, and Max says she has great balance. Everyone at Pine Hollow thinks she’s amazing. We’re all really proud of her.”

  Callie shot Corey a quick glance, feeling a little embarrassed by George’s gushing. She didn’t want Corey to think they were close friends, let alone anything more—though that seemed to be exactly the impression George was trying to project.

  George wasn’t finished. “It’s a good thing this marriage project is just fake, anyway,” he said. “Because in real life, Callie would never, ever be interested in any guy who wasn’t a rider.”

  Callie’s jaw dropped. She was so taken aback by George’s statement that she couldn’t respond for a second. Where did he get off telling people who she would or wouldn’t date? In truth, only a few of the guys Callie had dated in her old hometown had been riders.

  But that’s not even the point, Callie reminded herself. Her initial surprise was passing, being replaced by bubbling anger. The point is, he’s acting like he knows everything about me. Almost like he owns me or something.

  “Well, anyway,” Corey said, obviously doing his best to smooth over the awkward moment, “I guess there are lots of odd couples working together for this project. That’s what happens when you go by computer dating.” He chuckled politely at his own joke. George just stared at him blankly, and Callie clenched her fists, wishing George would go away and leave her alone. For good.

  Fortunately, an interruption arrived in the form of Rachel Hart, who emerged from the other stable aisle. The intermediate rider was leading Carole’s horse, Starlight, who was fully tacked up.

  “Oh!” Rachel said when she saw them all standing there. “Sorry. I thought the ring was free.”

  “It is,” Callie called hastily. “Come on in. Corey and I were just leaving.” She pointedly ignored George, who was still hovering in the entryway with Joyride. His horse was stomping her front hooves impatiently and obviously wondering what the holdup was.

  “Yeah, I’d better motor,” Corey told Callie as Rachel led Starlight past them. “My girlfriend’s expecting me.” With a quick wave, he headed for the exit.

  For a fleeting moment, Callie wished that Corey hadn’t mentioned his girlfriend in front of George. But soon the feeling passed, and she shook her head, a little annoyed with herself. The situation with George was really getting ridiculous. Why couldn’t she make him understand that she wasn’t ever going to be interested in him?

  George watched the other guy until he’d disappeared through the stable doors, then turned to smile uncertainly at Callie. “Well, now that he’s gone, I guess you can finally get tacked up, huh?” he asked, sounding as cheerful as ever.

  “I guess,” Callie said shortly. She still felt angry with him, though the feeling was passing. Her mind was already turning toward her coming session with Barq. There was a lot she wanted to accomplish this week, and she couldn’t afford to waste a single minute worrying about George.

  George cleared his throat. “Er, actually, I was thinking of taking a nice long trail ride this afternoon.” He smiled at her hopefully and gestured at his mare. “Joy could use a change of pace—we’ve been spending a lot of time in the ring. Need some company while you train?”

  “No thanks,” Callie said bluntly. “All I’m going to be doing is working Barq over cavalletti for the next hour in the schooling ring. So you might as well just go ahead on your trail ride.”

  She turned and hurried toward Barq’s stall before George could answer. She didn’t have time to deal with his fragile ego at the moment. She had work to do.

  EIGHT

  Carole pushed open the wide wooden door and just stood stock-still for a moment, letting the glorious, familiar, intoxicating smell of horses wash over her. I can’t believe it, she thought, tears of pure happiness prickling the corners of her eyes. I can’t believe I’m really here.

  “Yo!” Max’s voice drifted toward her from somewhere down the stable aisle. “Whoever’s out there, shut the door. You’re letting the cold air in.”

  “Sorry.” Carole quickly stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind her. Blinking back her tears, she took another deep breath.

  “Carole?” Max’s surprised voice was soon followed by Max himself as he hurried into the entryway, looking wary. “What are you doing here?”

  “Don’t worry,” Carole assured him. “It’s okay. Dad said I could come.” She quickly explained the situation and her father’s new rules.

  “Oh!” Max looked relieved. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order on your scores.”

  “Thanks.” Carole still felt a little uncomfortable when she thought about that. Yes, she’d studied for the standardized test. She and all her friends had studied together. But she didn’t quite feel like she deserved all the hubbub about her great score. After all, if star student Lisa had actually gotten a lower score than she had, didn’t that prove that the PSATs were really kind of bogus?

  “I’m sorry to he
ar you won’t be coming back to work yet, though.” Max smiled ruefully. “I’ve been looking high and low for a decent stable hand to hire, but it hasn’t been quite as easy to find someone as I’d hoped.”

  “Really?” Carole appreciated that Max was being open with her about trying to hire someone to handle her workload. He’d assured her when she’d quit that she would always have a job at Pine Hollow, and she knew he meant it. But that didn’t stop her from feeling guilty about leaving him in the lurch. “Um, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Max waved one hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as all that,” he assured her. “Like I said, it’s been more challenging that I expected. But I’ve seen one or two promising candidates so far, and another’s coming by later this week.” Max shrugged. “I should have someone here by New Year’s, if not before.”

  Carole nodded. New Year’s was the original end of her banishment from the stable. But she wasn’t sure if that meant she would be free to take her job back at that time. She’d been afraid to press her father for too many details. “That’s good,” she said. “Um, so how is everything around here?”

  “Just fine.” Max smiled at her. “But don’t feel you have to stand around here making small talk with me, Carole. I know you’re eager to go see Starlight. He’s in the indoor ring with Rachel.”

  Carole nodded, feeling a twinge of disappointment. If Rachel Hart was already working with Starlight, that meant Carole wouldn’t have a chance to ride him that day after all. Carole had arranged with the younger girl to take over Starlight’s exercise and care while she was grounded. It was a good deal for both of them, since Carole knew that her horse would be getting plenty of attention and Rachel wanted to prove to her parents that she was ready to have a horse of her own.

  Still, knowing that she would have to wait one more day to ride her horse dampened Carole’s happiness only a little bit. It was good just to be back at the stable where she belonged.

  The faint sound of a ringing phone came down the hall. “Oops, I’d better get that. It may be someone calling about the job.” Max started to hurry off in the direction of the office, then paused and glanced at Carole over his shoulder. “And by the way, welcome back.”