Back in the Saddle

by Bonnie Bryant

  Even as she spoke, Lisa wondered if she should just keep her opinions to herself. Maybe I’m not the best person to be advising anyone else about their love life, she thought. After all, mine doesn’t exactly seem to be in tip-top shape right now. Not if I’m lying to my boyfriend about my plans and wishing he wouldn’t call me quite so often.…

  She shook her head as if the motion could shake those thoughts right out of her mind. This wasn’t the time for that. She wanted to help Carole.

  “I’m not so sure,” Stevie was saying. “Maybe a nudge in the right direction is exactly what he needs. You could try to set up some kind of situation where you two end up alone again—you know, maybe out in the feed shed, mixing grain together, just the two of you.…”

  “I don’t think I want to do anything like that,” Carole said, sounding doubtful. “I mean, what’s the point if I have to trick him into talking to me? That’s not what it’s supposed to be like if we really care about each other, right? Even as friends, let alone anything more.” She sighed. “Anyway, even if we ended up alone, it probably wouldn’t do any good. If I can’t even ask him a simple question, like who Zani is, then what hope do I have for asking him about what’s going on with us?”

  “Zani?” Lisa repeated blankly, looking back at her friends.

  Stevie nodded. “Remember? That’s the little girl Carole saw with Ben last week when Hometown Hope was fixing up that park near his house.”

  “Oh, right.” Lisa recalled Stevie telling her something about the mysterious little girl soon after her return from California.

  “I’m just not sure it would be worth it,” Carole said sadly. “Maybe I’m kidding myself and this is all a bunch of nothing. I just keep thinking about you guys, and what great, open, honest relationships you have with Phil and Alex. How could I ever expect to have that with someone like Ben?”

  Lisa winced, thinking once again about her conversation with Alex earlier. Stop it! she told herself fiercely. Just stop thinking about that. This is about Carole and Ben, not you and Alex. Besides, you didn’t really lie to him. After all, if he’d come along, there’s no way Carole would be spilling her guts like this. So it’s all worked out just fine. Right?

  Stevie was still thinking about Carole’s confession a few minutes later as they stopped to let the horses drink from the tumbling creek beside the trail, though the conversation had turned to other things at Carole’s insistence. Talk about a mixed-up relationship, she thought, patting Belle absently on the shoulder as the mare plunged her nose into the cold, rushing water. The way Ben’s been acting even makes Spike look like a real romantic. She shuddered. Well, okay, maybe not.…

  “You know, I just can’t decide what to do,” she commented, her mind turning back to her article. “I really like the idea of covering three couples, not just two. But if I write about myself, I’ll come out looking like a total loser who can’t make my marriage work. Even if it’s all Spike’s fault.”

  Before either of her friends could answer, they all heard the sound of hoofbeats coming from just beyond the next bend in the trail. A moment later Callie came into view, riding Barq.

  “Hi!” Stevie called with a wave. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Callie looked surprised as she pulled her horse to a stop. “Yeah,” she said. “What are the odds?”

  Stevie couldn’t help thinking that Callie didn’t look entirely thrilled to see them. “How’s the training going?” she asked, wondering if Barq was giving Callie trouble.

  Callie shrugged and tightened up the reins as the spirited Arabian took a few steps toward the creek. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of ground to make up, though, if I want to get back to where I was before the accident.”

  “I’m sure Barq will be a good partner for that,” Carole said, smiling at Callie over Starlight’s broad back. “He’s a really nice horse.”

  “Uh-huh.” Callie glanced down at Barq’s neck. “So what are you guys doing out here?”

  “Just a little trail ride,” Lisa replied. “We were going to see if you wanted to come along, but you were already gone by the time we got started.”

  Callie nodded. “I really wanted to get in a good, long training session today.”

  “Of course. We understand.” Stevie smiled hopefully. “But if you have time later, I was hoping we could talk about how things are going with you and Corey. You know, for my article.”

  “Sure,” Callie agreed, glancing distractedly at the sliver of sky showing between the treetops. “But listen, I’d better move on. I don’t want to let Barq cool down too much standing around here.”

  “Okay. See you later,” Stevie said.

  “Bye.” Callie urged Barq forward. The horse snorted and obeyed, with one last wistful glance at the creek. A moment later they were trotting around another curve in the trail, taking them out of sight.

  “Boy, she sure seemed to be in a hurry,” Carole commented, staring in the direction Callie had gone.

  Stevie shrugged as she led Belle, who’d finally finished her drink, back up the gentle slope onto the trail. “She’s pretty serious about this endurance stuff, I guess.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lisa said, leading Windsor up to stand beside Belle. She gazed at Stevie. “Just like you’re serious about being a journalist, right?”

  “I guess,” Stevie agreed, not quite sure what Lisa was driving at.

  “That’s why you need to stick with your original plan and keep yourself in your article,” Lisa said firmly. Ignoring Windsor, who was resting his heavy head on her shoulder and dribbling water, she kept her gaze trained on Stevie. “You need to tell the truth. That’s not always easy, but it’s the only way to go if you’re really serious about what you’re doing.”

  Stevie was a little startled at Lisa’s assertive tone, but she had to agree that what she was saying made a lot of sense. “Okay, maybe you have a point,” she admitted. “Honesty is the best policy and all that.”

  “Right,” Lisa agreed.

  Stevie glanced over at Carole for her opinion. “She’s right,” Carole said quietly. “I wasn’t honest, and look where it got me.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I hate to say it, but we should probably head back soon. I want to have time to give Starlight a proper grooming before my two hours are up.”

  Soon the three of them were mounted and heading back down the trail. Lisa and Carole started chatting about Max’s search for a new stable hand, but Stevie was still pondering what Lisa had said.

  I guess she’s right, she thought, swaying slightly as Belle moved easily along the smooth trail. Reporting the news means telling the truth—at least as far as you know it. And that means showing all angles of a story, the embarrassing and stupid ones as well as the others. She sighed, knowing what she had to do. Spike and I stay in the story. For better or for worse.

  ELEVEN

  Carole had always loved being at the stable around six or seven in the evening, when just about everyone had gone home to eat dinner, the horses were all drowsing in their stalls digesting their evening meal, and the only footsteps hurrying through the aisles belonged to the stable cats as they stalked their prey. It was such a quiet, tranquil time that Carole couldn’t resist the temptation to linger, even though her friends had long since departed and her two-hour daily time limit had come and gone.

  She wasn’t worried about getting in trouble, though. As she was picking out Starlight’s feet a little while earlier, she had suddenly remembered that her father was out of town giving a speech in Pittsburgh. He wouldn’t be back until the next day and would never have to know that she’d missed her curfew just this once.

  Okay, so maybe I’m not being totally honest, like Lisa kept talking about earlier, Carole thought peacefully as she moved from stall to stall, checking to make sure that each horse was settling in for the night without any problems. And I know Dad would freak if he found out. But I’ll leave soon. I just want to enjoy this for a little while longer.

>   She paused outside of Rusty’s stall, paying extra attention to his water bucket. Carole knew that the sorrel gelding had just been brought in that day after being turned out at pasture for the past three months in the hilly meadow near the back corner of Pine Hollow’s property. A clear, cold spring-fed pond provided water for the horses that were turned out there, and sometimes it could be hard for them to make the transition from the pond’s cool, fresh water to the less natural taste of the water from the tap inside. That was why everyone at the stable always kept a close eye on pastured horses when they came in for the winter to make sure they were drinking enough.

  “Poor guy,” Carole murmured to the horse when she saw that the bucket was full to the brim, obviously untouched. “That stuff from the tap must taste pretty icky after what you’ve been drinking out there, huh?”

  She gave the gelding a pat and let herself out of the stall. Time to get out the molasses, she thought with a smile. Rusty always falls for that.

  After fetching the large, slightly sticky bottle of molasses that Max stored in the back of the refrigerator in the tack room for just these sorts of occasions, Carole returned to the stall. “Here we go, buddy,” she murmured, pouring a little bit of the thick, sweet substance into the bucket and stirring it with her fingers.

  Rusty watched what she was doing with his ears pricked forward curiously. When Carole stepped away, wiping her hand on her jeans, the horse moved over to the bucket and sniffed at it. Seconds later, he was drinking.

  Carole smiled as she screwed the cap back onto the molasses bottle. Leaving the horse to drink his fill in peace, she hurried toward the stable office, planning to leave a note so that whoever did the morning feeding would know what she’d done. That way they would know to add a slightly smaller amount of molasses each day until Rusty got used to the taste of indoor water.

  She rounded the corner into the office at a swift walk, expecting it to be empty, since she hadn’t heard a sound when she’d been in the tack room next door just a few minutes earlier. “Eep!” she squeaked, startled when she spotted the figure seated behind the desk.

  Ben glanced up quickly, seeming just as surprised. “Oh,” he said, dropping the pen he’d been using. “Uh, hi.”

  “Hi.” Carole gulped, completely unprepared for the sudden encounter. “What are you doing?”

  Ben shrugged. “Daily log,” he said succinctly, picking up his pen and jotting one last note in the thick, battered notebook on the desk in front of him.

  Carole watched him, her stomach jumping like a feisty colt feeling the weight of a saddle for the first time. You need to tell the truth, Lisa’s voice echoed inside Carole’s head. That’s not always easy, but it’s the only way.…

  Carole decided that her friend was right. Besides, she couldn’t stand to have this unexpected meeting end the same way as all the others—with Ben mumbling an excuse and hurrying out, leaving Carole feeling hurt and confused. She couldn’t take that again.

  “Ben,” she said. Her voice cracked slightly, and she cleared her throat before trying again. “Ben, can I ask you something?”

  He clicked the pen shut and set it down, looking up at her warily. “Sure.”

  Carole took a deep breath, squeezing her hand nervously around the molasses bottle. “Um, is something wrong? I mean, are you mad at me or something? Because lately, every time you see me coming, you take off in the other direction.”

  She stared at the desk between them, not daring to meet his eye. Her cheeks were burning, and she really hoped she hadn’t just made a huge mistake by speaking up. Since when does that work with Ben? she thought belatedly. Usually it just scares him away.

  “Uh, what?” Ben said, sounding uncertain. “I’m not mad.”

  A little surprised that he’d answered instead of leaving, Carole dared to look at him. “Then why are you acting like you’re allergic to me?” she asked softly. “I thought we were friends.”

  “We are,” Ben replied quickly. “Er, I mean … Well. It’s not you. Really.”

  Carole wasn’t sure what to think of that. “What do you mean?” she asked. “I really feel like you’re avoiding me, ever since, er …” She trailed off, not quite daring to bring up their kiss. “Well, for a while now. So what’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing,” Ben muttered, staring at his hands. Carole noticed that he was clutching the edge of the desk so hard that his knuckles were white. “Uh, I just have a lot of, you know, stuff to deal with right now.”

  “Does it have something to do with that little girl I saw you with?” Carole asked on a hunch. “Is this about Zani?”

  Ben glanced up at her, startled. “How did you—” he began. Then he stopped himself and gulped. “Er, I mean, sort of. I guess.”

  “Who is she?” Carole asked, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer. What was the worst Ben could do, anyway? Leave? Refuse to answer? “Is she your little sister?”

  At that, Ben let out a short, mirthless laugh. “No,” he replied. “Not my sister.” He heaved a sigh and pushed himself back from the desk, letting his hands fall into his lap. “Zani’s my niece. She just came to stay with us. Uh, me and my granddad. Because of … well,… problems …”

  Carole was so stunned that he’d actually answered her question that she wasn’t sure what to say next. A million questions were whirling through her brain. What kind of problems did he mean? Where were the little girl’s parents? How long was she staying? But just as she opened her mouth to ask some of those questions, she heard rapid footsteps hurrying down the hall outside. A second later Max burst into the office.

  “Oh, hello, Ben. Carole.” Max shot her a slightly suspicious look, and Carole guessed that he was probably trying to calculate how long she’d been at the stable. Luckily for her, he was distracted by something else. “Listen, has either of you seen the molasses? It’s not in the tack room, and I—”

  “Here it is,” Carole interrupted, holding up the bottle. “I was just using it to sweeten Rusty’s water.”

  Max looked relieved. “Great! That’s exactly why I was looking for it. I noticed he wasn’t drinking much earlier, and I meant to do it before dinner, but what with one thing and another …” He shook his head and ran one hand over his hair, a characteristic gesture when he was feeling overwhelmed. “Is it just me, or is this place twice as busy as usual these days?”

  Ben stood up. “Reminds me,” he said gruffly, not really looking at either of them. “Gotta clean up the indoor ring.”

  He hurried out without waiting for a response. But for once, Carole wasn’t too upset to see him rush off.

  I still wish Ben trusted me more, she thought, waving a quick good-bye to Max before heading next door to replace the molasses bottle. I wish he could talk to me without being practically forced to do it. And I really, really wish he would bring up that kiss.

  She blushed, as she always did when she thought about that. Brushing off her hands, she left the tack room and slowly made her way through the hushed quiet of the stable to the entryway.

  Still, I guess I should try not to take it personally, she told herself. Ben acts the way he acts because of the way he thinks the world has treated him. I should know that by now. She shook her head, suddenly feeling a little sad. It didn’t seem fair that someone as smart and talented as Ben should always have to be on the defensive. Why couldn’t life be a little easier, especially for good people? It’s the whole world he’s mad at, not me. I still have no idea how he really feels about me.…

  She sighed, pausing and glancing over her shoulder as she reached the exit. If only Max hadn’t walked in …

  But she couldn’t stand around all night speculating about maybes and might-have-beens. It was getting late. And it was long past time for her to be getting home.

  Callie toyed with her slice of pumpkin pie, poking at it with her fork. She wasn’t hungry—her mother’s famous pepper chicken had filled her up, and then some—but she didn’t want to excuse herself from the din
ner table. Not until she managed to convince her parents that it was time to start shopping for a horse.

  “I was thinking, maybe I could set up a few appointments for this weekend,” she began, filling a brief lull in the conversation her parents were having with Scott about his latest calculus test. “I could ask Max to give me some names. He knows all the good places in the area to buy a decent horse.”

  Mrs. Forester sighed and shook her head, her fine-boned face drawn into a slight frown. “Really, Callie,” she said. “You’ve spoken of nothing else for the past three days. Don’t you think you ought to slow down a bit?”

  “Your mother’s right,” Congressman Forester put in, setting down his coffee cup. “You just started riding again. It’s too early to be thinking about a new horse. You need to concentrate on getting your strength back first.”

  Callie dropped her fork and frowned at them. “I’m working on that,” she said. “But how can I really get back into competitive shape if I don’t have a competitive horse to work with?”

  “Frankly, sweetheart, I’m not sure that getting back into competition is what you should be most concerned with right now,” her father responded sternly. “We haven’t really discussed your PSAT scores. But I think you know, your mother and I had hoped you’d do a bit better than you did.”

  Callie rolled her eyes. No kidding, she thought sourly. You wanted me to ace that stupid test so that I could follow the family tradition and go to Yale. She didn’t bother to say so out loud, though. She’d had the same argument with her parents too many times—every time she brought home a B on her report card instead of an A; every time she’d decided not to join a new club at school because she didn’t want to give up any time at the stable.