Inside, Callie collapsed limply against the chipped ceramic sink. “Whew!” she exclaimed. “Thanks, Stevie. I owe you one.”
Stevie grinned. “You looked pretty desperate out there,” she said frankly. “So what’s going on? Don’t tell me George was proposing or something. Or was he just professing his undying love again by staring at you with that goofy look he gets—sort of the same one Belle gets when she sees me coming in with a handful of carrots?”
Callie smiled weakly. She didn’t particularly feel like talking about it. “Something like that,” she said. “So what’s new with you? Have you come up with any more brilliant ideas for the newspaper?”
“No,” Stevie replied with a slight frown. “But believe me, I’m thinking.” She turned and leaned against one of the other sinks, staring at herself in the ancient, slightly cloudy mirror. “It just kills me that I don’t get to cover the CARL fund-raiser. Oh!” She glanced over at Callie. “You’re going, aren’t you?”
Callie hadn’t actually thought much about it one way or the other. She had only vague memories of what the others had been discussing about CARL and the fund-raiser, but from what she did remember, it sounded like a good cause—one her parents would be happy to subsidize. “Sure,” she said with a shrug. “I guess. It’s not the kind of thing where I have to have a date, is it? Otherwise I guess I’m going to be stuck just going with Scott.”
She was only kidding, but a genuine expression of surprise and horror crossed Stevie’s face. “Oh,” Stevie said.
“Just joking,” Callie said, surprised at the reaction. “You have brothers—you know how it is. I’d rather go to a dance or whatever with the creature from the black lagoon than get stuck with Scott as my date.”
“I know,” Stevie said quickly. “Um, I was just thinking about something else.”
Something about Stevie’s expression made Callie think that there was more to this than she was admitting. “What?” she asked, a little worried. “Is it something to do with Scott?”
“Well …” Stevie paused, looking undecided. “I guess I might as well tell you. But you have to swear on your future horse’s life that you won’t breathe a word to anyone, okay?”
Callie couldn’t help being curious now. “What is it?”
Stevie took a deep breath. “It is about Scott,” she said somberly. “I think he likes me.”
“Of course he does,” Callie began with a shrug. “You know he thinks you’re—oh!” She broke off, suddenly realizing what Stevie was trying to say. “Really?” she said doubtfully. “What makes you think that?”
“A lot of things.” Stevie shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and leaned back against the sink. “Starting with the way he always seems to be at Pine Hollow lately, even though he doesn’t really ride.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s just …” Callie let her voice trail off, thinking a little harder about what Stevie had just said. “Now that you mention it, I’d sort of noticed that he was here a lot, too,” she said. “I mean, it made sense before, when I was still on crutches and needed to come every day for therapeutic riding. It wasn’t like I could walk home myself then.”
“But you could now,” Stevie said with a knowing nod. “So why is big brother still playing chauffeur?”
Callie shrugged, still not convinced that Stevie’s theory was right. She knew that Stevie wasn’t particularly sensitive, but she still didn’t want to scoff outright and hurt her feelings. After all, it’s not like it’s impossible that Scott could ever have the hots for someone like her, she thought, casting a quick, appraising glance at Stevie. Even with her thick dark blond hair pulled back in a messy, lopsided ponytail and her nice figure hidden in the folds of an enormous, shapeless wool sweater, Stevie still looked good. Maybe she’s not quite as—um—well groomed as most of Scott’s love interests, but it’s not an impossible thing at all. In fact, considering Scott’s history, the only surprising thing is that he hasn’t latched on to Stevie—or any of the other girls he hangs out with—before this.
“What?” Stevie demanded, leaning a little closer and staring Callie in the face. “What’s that weird expression about? I’m right, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know,” Callie said hastily, not wanting to give Stevie the wrong impression. “I have no idea. As far as I know for sure, he thinks of you as a good friend—nothing more or less.”
“But?” Stevie prompted, obviously expecting more.
Callie hesitated. Now that they were on the subject, a few things were nagging at her. The constant presence at the stable, yes. But there was more, too. “Actually,” she said slowly, “Scott has been acting kind of, um …”
“What?”
“I don’t quite know how to describe it,” Callie replied, picking at a rusty spot on the edge of the sink. “But when Scott’s starting to get interested in someone new, he does sort of have this way about him. Like for instance, when he had a crush on this girl Jenna at our old school who was a really serious singer, he suddenly bought all these opera CDs and started listening to them all the time. Mom and Dad and I thought he was going insane until we realized that it was because of Jenna. He wanted to learn about opera because of her.”
Stevie nodded, looking triumphant and a little sick at the same time. “I knew it,” she said in a strangled voice. “Just like Alex wanted to learn to ride because of Lisa. And now, like Scott has practically moved into Pine Hollow to get close to me.”
“Maybe,” Callie said, still uncertain.
She thought back, trying to remember how Scott had acted the times she’d seen him and Stevie together. Usually when he liked a girl, it was pretty obvious. Again, now that Callie thought about it, she did seem to recall a certain dippy, dreamy expression creeping over her brother’s face now and then lately. But had it been directed at Stevie? Callie just wasn’t sure.
In any case, there was still one thing that was bothering her. “I don’t know what he’s up to,” she said. “But I do know one thing. Scott has never, ever tried to break up anyone’s relationship. He knows you and Phil have been together forever. There’s no way he’d try to get in the middle of that.”
“You think?” Stevie didn’t sound quite as convinced as Callie felt. But before Callie could answer, the bathroom door swung open, almost whacking Stevie in the shoulder.
“Oops!” exclaimed the younger girl Callie had spoken to outside the tack room earlier. “Sorry. We didn’t know anyone was in here.”
“No problem, May,” Stevie replied with a grin. “I didn’t need that shoulder anyway. I always carry a spare.”
Rachel Hart giggled. “I keep telling her to slow down,” she said, glancing at her friend reproachfully. “Max yelled at her in class about that just this week.”
May Grover—Callie had finally recalled her full name now that Stevie had greeted her—rolled her eyes and elbowed her friend in the ribs. Then she glanced at Callie. “Hey, by the way, if you’re still looking for Max, his interview person finally left.”
“Thanks!” Callie said, immediately forgetting all about her brother, Stevie’s worries, and everything else except her errand. She headed toward the door, which Rachel was still holding partway open. Sticking her head out, she glanced down the hall. George was nowhere in sight. “Coast is clear,” she told Stevie in relief, ignoring the younger girls’ curious gazes. “I’m out of here.”
“Good luck,” Stevie said.
Already halfway out the door, Callie responded with a wave. With any luck, she could still make it to her appointment on time—or at least come close.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Carole crooned, sticking her fingers through a cage door to scratch a large gray cat under its chin. “I know this smells kind of icky, but it will dry soon, I promise.”
The cat meowed and rubbed against the cage door, gazing at Carole reproachfully. Carole smiled and turned away, reaching for the paintbrush she’d left balanced on top of a can of paint. Craig Skippack, the head of Hometown Ho
pe, had assigned her to paint Cat Room B that day. It was the smallest of the three cat rooms at CARL, and Carole was already nearly finished putting a fresh coat of pale green paint on the long concrete wall facing the rows of cages. Unlike the dogs, the cats didn’t have outdoor runs, which meant that there was really nowhere to put them during the painting. But one of the volunteer vets had assured Carole that as long as she left the doors and the three high, narrow windows open, the cats would be just fine.
“Anyway, just think how nice this will look when I’m done,” Carole said brightly. Talking to the cats distracted her a little from thinking about Cam, and that made it easier to focus on what she was doing instead of obsessing over what it would be like to see him again. Or thinking about that comment he’d made about her being cute.
I don’t know why I should be so nervous, anyway, she thought as she stepped over to the open can of paint to dip her brush in. Cam is an old friend. I wouldn’t be feeling this way if I were meeting my old friend Karenna today, would I? Or Christine Lonetree. Or Ali Lemmer, my best friend from kindergarten.
“Almost finished here,” she told the closest cat, a sinuous snow white female with bright green eyes. “I just have to put a coat on this trim, and then all that’s left is to wait for it to dry. By the time you finish your next catnap, the whole room will look brand-new.”
“Well, I can see that some things never change. You’re still talking to animals.”
Carole gasped and spun around. “Cam!” she exclaimed. “You’re here!” Fearing that she’d lost track of time, she checked her watch. “And you’re early.”
“Sorry.” Cam smiled and stepped forward. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”
Carole blushed, feeling flustered and unprepared. She had planned to take a quick trip to the ladies’ room and freshen up a little, maybe even rebraid her hair, before he arrived. Now she could only imagine how many paint spatters and streaks of dirt were decorating her face at the moment. The thought distracted her and made her blush deeper.
“Well?” Cam said expectantly, taking another step toward her. If he noticed that she was totally tonguetied and befuddled, he was doing a good job of hiding it. “Don’t I even get a hug?”
“Um, of course,” Carole said, one hand straying to her cheek, where something seemed to be crusted and flaking. Trying not to think about that, she opened her arms as he bent down to hug her, a spicy smell—aftershave?—enveloping her along with his arms. After a moment they both stepped back. For the first time, Carole really looked at Cam. He had always been cute, with his mocha-colored skin and clear brown eyes fringed with dark lashes. But now that he was all grown up, all the soft, rounded corners of his face had matured into chiseled features that made him much more handsome than cute. He had always been tall, and his shoulders had finally caught up with his height, broadening just enough to give him the look of an athlete.
Wow, Carole thought, realizing that she was staring openly but unable to tear her eyes away. A lot can change in four years!
Fortunately Cam didn’t seem to notice her gaping. “So,” he said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together and glancing around Cat Room B. “This is where you’re spending all your time these days.”
“Uh-huh. And I really need to finish up here before we go,” Carole replied apologetically.
“No problem,” Cam said graciously. “I’ll help.”
He grabbed a spare brush before Carole could protest. Gulping as she looked at his spotless khaki pants and pale blue sweater, she smiled weakly. “Um, okay. If you’re sure you want to.”
“Absolutely,” Cam replied gallantly, shooting her a smile that seemed to show every one of his straight, brilliant white teeth. “We can catch up here as well as anywhere, right?”
“Sure.” Carole was relieved that he was being such a good sport. “Thanks.”
Cam nodded. “Okay, so tell me everything you’ve been doing for the past few years,” he commanded playfully. “I must know all about what I’ve been missing. Are you still riding at Pine Hollow?”
Carole immediately felt slightly more comfortable. After all, this was the topic that had brought them together. “Of course,” she replied. “I ride there all the time—well, usually. Now that I’m grounded—”
“Oh, yeah,” Cam broke in, shooting her a curious look. “What’s that all about, anyway? You must’ve done something really bad to get in that much trouble.” He smiled and winked at the word bad, though Carole wasn’t exactly sure why.
She bit her lip and averted her eyes, feeling ashamed as she always did when she thought about cheating on that test. “It was pretty bad,” she said softly, deciding there was no point in trying to avoid the topic. It was bound to come up sooner or later, and if Cam was going to be disgusted and decide he didn’t want to hang out with a lousy cheater, better to learn that now. “It was also pretty stupid,” she went on. “See, my grades were slipping a little, and you probably remember how strict Max is about that kind of thing. Anyone who falls below a C can’t ride until they bring up their average again.” She shrugged. “I was pretty close to that line, and then I forgot to study for this history test.”
“Oh!” Cam nodded knowingly. “So you flunked, and your Dad grounded you.”
“Not exactly.” Carole hesitated, wishing it was as simple as that. It could have been, if she hadn’t done what she’d done next. “I did flunk the test—big time. My teacher was surprised and kept me after class to talk about it. I wound up telling her this whopper about how Dad was really sick, and I had been too worried to study.… Anyway, she bought it and offered a retest. But this all happened a few weeks before a big horse show, and I was so busy getting ready for that—well, I guess I just sort of forgot to study again.”
“Yikes.” Cam shook his head sympathetically.
“That’s when the really bad, stupid part comes in,” Carole hurried on before he could comment further. “When I realized I was going to flunk the retest, too, I was feeling pretty desperate. Like I said, the horse show was coming up. I couldn’t let my grade slip, or I wouldn’t be able to ride in it. That seemed like the most horrible thing in the world at the time, and so when the teacher left the room for a few minutes, I—I looked at my textbook.” She turned toward Cam, lowering her paintbrush and looking him straight in the eye. “I cheated. And I kept it a secret for more than a month. When Dad found out, he just about hit the roof. And that’s why I’m grounded.”
She half expected Cam to be horrified—maybe even throw down his paintbrush and leave the room in disgust. But he just nodded pensively. “Rough,” he commented. “Still, I guess everyone slips at least once in their life, right?”
Carole shot him a quick, relieved smile. He didn’t sound judgmental at all. “I guess,” she said. “And believe me, once was definitely enough. That’s the last time I even think about cheating—on anything!”
“Hey, I believe you, beautiful,” Cam said softly, reaching out his free hand to brush a strand of hair off her cheek. “You’re one of the most honest people I’ve ever known.”
Carole goggled, barely hearing the second part of his comment. Beautiful? she thought in amazement, her cheek tingling where he’d touched it. Am I hallucinating, or did he just call me beautiful?
She gulped, not wanting Cam to notice how his casual remark had totally blown her away. “Erp,” she blurted out. “Um, I mean, how about you? How’s Duffy doing these days?” She smiled as she thought about Cam’s horse, a likable chestnut gelding named Duffy. Carole knew that the Nelsons had gone to quite a bit of trouble and expense to move Duffy across the country, and she wondered if they’d had any problems repeating the process coming back.
“Duffy? Oh, I don’t have him anymore,” Cam said. “I sold him a couple of years ago.”
“What?” Carole was startled. Cam had always been just as attached to Duffy as she was to Starlight. “Why?” Realizing that sounded pretty blunt, she quickly added, “Uh, I mean, what made you decide to sell him
?”
Cam shrugged. “It was kind of hard to keep up with my riding out there in L.A.,” he explained. “The closest stable to our new house was, like, fifteen miles away. And with the outrageous traffic out there, it could take up to forty minutes to get there sometimes.”
Carole wasn’t sure what to say to that. So he gave up riding because of the commute? she thought uncertainly, wondering if she was missing something. He sold the horse he loved because getting to him was inconvenient?
Suddenly she realized she was being as judgmental as she’d feared Cam would be about her cheating. After all, people usually had lots of reasons behind important decisions—reasons that might not be apparent to someone hearing about those decisions for the first time. She of all people should know that by now.
Didn’t I come awfully close to selling my own horse not too long ago? she reminded herself, thinking of the difficult days and nights leading up to her decision to find Starlight a new home. The idea had been almost unthinkable at first, but eventually Carole had convinced herself that she had outgrown her beloved horse. If she wanted to continue to develop as a rider, she had to find a mount that could challenge her—and Starlight just didn’t do that anymore. She had come very close to selling him to a girl from another part of the state. That hadn’t worked out, and for now, Carole was putting the whole selling-Starlight plan on hold. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she might have to face it again, at least if she wanted to continue competing in top-level horse shows. If I told Cam that I’d almost sold Starlight just a few weeks ago, he’d probably be totally shocked.
Cam was carefully touching up the trim around the doorway and hadn’t noticed her consternation. “Anyway,” he said after a moment, facing her again, “now that I’m back, I hope the two of us can go riding together sometime.” He gave her another brilliant smile. “Just like old times.”
Back in the Saddle Page 23