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Read all the Saddle Club books!
Horse Crazy
Horse Shy
Horse Sense
Horse Power
Trail Mates
Dude Ranch
Horse Play
Horse Show
Hoof Beat
Riding Camp
Horse Wise
Rodeo Rider
Copyright © 1989 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
“The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
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eISBN: 978-0-307-82493-6
Originally published by Bantam Skylark in 1989
First Delacorte eBook Edition 2012
v3.1
For Neil
Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
About the Author
“I CAN TELL I’m really getting better at riding,” Lisa Atwood announced to her two best friends with a smile. “Max is only giving me four instructions at a time now—instead of the eight he gave me during my first few lessons!”
Carole Hanson and Stevie Lake laughed along with Lisa. Max Regnery, their riding teacher at Pine Hollow Stables, was quite a character sometimes. But they also understood the complexity of riding well. There were always dozens of things to remember at once!
The girls were lounging contentedly in Stevie’s room, talking about their favorite subject: horses. The three friends were the members of The Saddle Club, and this get-together was a “meeting.” The girls had created the Club, with only two requirements: The members had to be horse crazy and they had to be willing to help one another when help was needed. At the moment, with no problems or crises in evidence, the girls were lazily talking about riding.
Lisa sat cross-legged on Stevie’s bed. She twirled her long light brown hair around one finger as she and her friends talked. Lisa was petite and fine-boned, and she looked younger than her thirteen years. Also, the clothes her mother steered her into choosing—classic styles, like pleated plaid skirts and penny loafers—exaggerated her good-little-girl look. Occasionally Lisa daydreamed about having her hair cut in spikes or buying some offbeat clothes at the secondhand store at the mall, but there wasn’t enough rebel in her to defy her mother—or, usually, anybody else.
Although a year older than her friends, Lisa was the newest rider of the group. She’d only begun a few months before. She’d started lessons because her mother thought every well-brought-up young girl should know how to ride (“—and dance and paint and play the piano and do needlework, and every other boring thing you could imagine!” Lisa had said in exasperation one day). Then, Lisa had surprised her mother by becoming very interested in riding—and had especially surprised herself, and even Max, by how good she had become at it.
“Well, what were the four instructions?” Stevie asked Lisa with a grin. Stevie was lying on the floor of her room, with her legs propped up on her bed, and her dark blond hair spread out dramatically on the floor. Her hazel eyes were full of mischief. Stevie lived in a comfortable, spacious home with her three brothers (Michael, eight; Alex, her twin; and Chad, fourteen) and her parents. In contrast to Lisa’s stylish outfits, Stevie’s usually looked like hand-me-downs. She rode in jeans and beat-up cowboy boots. Now, relaxing after riding class, she was lounging in an oversize sweatshirt and a pair of tights.
Stevie was the only rider in her family. Sometimes it was hard for her parents to understand her love of horses, but her commitment had finally convinced them Stevie was serious about riding—perhaps because it was the only thing she was serious about. Stevie was a practical joker and frequently in trouble. Somehow, though, Stevie always managed to come out on top. To Lisa, that was one of Stevie’s most endearing qualities.
Lisa had to think for a moment to remember Max’s instructions. She rolled her eyes and said in a deep, serious voice, “ ‘Heels down, toes in, look straight ahead, and’—” she paused, laughing, then resumed sternly, “and, ‘stop talking to your horse!’ ”
Her friends joined Lisa in a burst of laughter. Max not only taught riding but also owned Pine Hollow Stables. And he was famous for certain idiosyncrasies, among them his belief that horses couldn’t understand English. He told his riders that a horse would appreciate the sound of a reassuring word now and again, but they were never to speak instructions such as “whoa.” For instructions, the rider should always use “aids”— signals with hands, legs, and a riding crop.
“What were you saying to Pepper?” Carole asked.
“I just told him that he should stop looking at the clock—there was another half hour to go in class!”
“You’re right, you know. When Pepper decides class should be over, he gets very ‘barny,’ doesn’t he?” Any horse in a hurry to get back to his stall was called barny.
Carole was the most experienced rider of the three girls, having ridden all her life on the Marine Corps bases where her father, now a colonel, had been stationed. Lisa thought Carole was beautiful, with her wavy black hair that hung loose to her shoulders and her intense big brown eyes. Lisa knew that Carole dreamed of owning a stable one day. She wanted to breed horses, train them, and, most of all, to ride them. Riding was the most important thing in her life. So Lisa was always pleased when Carole agreed with her observations about horses.
“He sure does,” Lisa said. “Every time we passed the door to the stalls, he slowed down and looked that way—just to remind me that we could go in there instead of around in circles.”
“I rode a horse on the base at Twenty-Nine Palms once,” Carole began, “who was so barny that if you took him out, you always had to keep him turned away from the barn. Once he was turned toward home, no matter how far away he was, nothing could keep him from heading back. They nicknamed him Pidge because he was like a homing pigeon!”
The girls were laughing when there was a knock at Stevie’s door. “It’s me, Chad,” Stevie’s older brother said. He opened the door. “Mom said to tell you that there are cookies in the kitchen if you’re hungry. I could bring them up, if you’d like.” With that, he disappeared from the door.
“What’s that all about?” Carole asked.
“Beats me,” Stevie said. “The last time he offered to do anything for me, it was to eat all my Halloween candy when I was six. Tried to convince me I’d get a stomachache. But he volunteered to take the risk
himself!”
“I guess brothers can be weird,” Carole remarked. “And speaking of weird, did you hear that new French girl shouting at Nero? She was really angry. You’re taking French, Stevie, could you understand her?”
“I think the words Estelle used aren’t included in the vocabulary lists that Mlle. Lebrun gives us.” She shook her head and grinned wickedly.
“You shouldn’t make fun of her,” said Lisa, who always tried to be fair. “After all, Estelle is new to this country. I’m sure they just do things differently in France. And it can’t be easy to move your entire life to a new country, you know, just because your father’s job is here.”
“Well, if they do things differently in France, they do them very differently,” Carole said, almost smirking.
Before Lisa had a chance to ask Carole what she meant, there was another knock at the door. Chad was back with a snack for the girls. He brought a tray with a little plate of cookies and a glass of milk for each of them. By the time he’d finished serving them, the girls had forgotten about Estelle and had started talking about horses again.
“How’s Delilah?” Stevie asked Carole. Delilah, a mare at Pine Hollow, was due to deliver a foal within the next month. The foal had been sired by Cobalt, a Thoroughbred who’d had to be put to sleep after his leg had been shattered beyond repair in a jumping accident. After the tragedy of his sudden death, Carole had wanted to give up riding. He’d been her favorite horse to ride, ever. Then she’d learned about Cobalt’s foal.
“The vet says she’s doing just fine.” Carole’s eyes lit up with excitement. “In fact, she was examining Delilah today. It’s not going to be long now before Delilah delivers, and the vet promises she’ll call me when the time comes. I’m so excited!”
“Wouldn’t it be great if we could all be there?” Lisa said.
“It would probably upset Delilah,” Carole said, deflating Lisa. Lisa hoped Carole didn’t think that her special love for Cobalt made her the only one who could help at the foaling. Lisa and Stevie exchanged glances. Carole was very knowledgeable about horses, but there were times when she seemed maybe just a little bit too knowledgeable—and a bit too possessive about her knowledge.
“You know what I like best about summer?” Stevie said, changing the subject. Then, without waiting for an answer, she continued. “I like being able to ride every day.”
Carole and Lisa nodded. School had let out a few weeks earlier. Now the girls were attending the stable’s camp program, which ran every weekday at the stable. Then, if they wanted to, they could ride on weekends as well.
“It’s like there’s finally enough time to do all the riding I want,” Stevie said. “And, not only do we have the foal to look forward to, but I have the feeling there’s something else coming up, too.”
“What’s that?” Lisa asked, suddenly interested.
“Well, I’m not exactly sure, but Max said he wanted to talk to me after camp tomorrow. He sounded very mysterious,” Stevie finished in her dramatic way.
“The last time Max wanted to talk to you it was because you were getting a C-minus in math, wasn’t it?” Carole teased.
“Don’t remind me,” Stevie said, throwing a pillow at her.
It was a firm rule at Pine Hollow that riding came second to schoolwork. No student was allowed to ride unless school grades were satisfactory. And Max kept a sharp eye on enforcement. “But I ended the year with a B-plus—thanks to Lisa’s help—and I’m not at summer school, so it can’t have anything to do with that.”
“Think he might have found out it was you who put the toad in Veronica’s riding hat?” Carole asked.
“No way!” Stevie giggled. “Even though Veronica wanted the toad checked for fingerprints!”
“Boy, I loved the look of horror on her too-perfect face, didn’t you?” Carol asked.
Veronica diAngelo was a snooty girl who was in their class at Pine Hollow. Cobalt had belonged to her, and the accident that had cost him his life had been her fault. Even though she was now trying to learn more about riding, she was still Veronica, and the girls didn’t like her much.
“You know, I was thinking about trying the toad trick on Estelle, too. After all, one of Pine Hollow’s traditions is playing practical jokes on new students,” Stevie said.
Practical jokes were Lisa’s least-favorite tradition at Pine Hollow. She was about to suggest that it wouldn’t be a good idea, when Stevie discarded the notion herself.
“Nah, I don’t think so. It might make Max angry and if he gets really mad then he won’t tell me what it is he wants to tell me—unless, of course, he’s already mad. Then a trick would make it worse. What do you think, Carole?”
“I think it’s going to be a colt.…” Carole said dreamily.
“Huh? What’s that got to do with Max?” Stevie asked.
“Oh, sorry—I was just thinking about Delilah some more.”
Lisa watched as Carole and Stevie tried to carry on a conversation, but it was weird because they were talking about different things. Lisa felt a little left out of it. While they were talking back and forth, she began to think about The Saddle Club. She always had fun with Carole and Stevie, but she couldn’t help wishing that their club were more official, with rules and regulations. If their meetings were more organized, then they’d all talk about the same subject. That was really the way clubs were supposed to work. Meetings were supposed to be orderly. There was supposed to be new business and old business, election of officers, budgets and motions. Lisa’s mother belonged to lots of clubs. That was how it always was. Just because they called it The Saddle Club didn’t make it a club.
To be a real club, they’d need a constitution. And who, she asked herself, suddenly inspired, was better prepared to make a constitution than the person who had gotten an A on her paper about the United States Constitution? Now Lisa was excited. She had a project too, just like Carole had Delilah and her foal, and Stevie had her mysterious meeting with Max. Lisa grinned to herself, thinking how pleased her friends would be when they found that they belonged to a real club.
“Stevie! It’s almost time for dinner!” Mrs. Lake’s voice came up the stairs. “Lisa? Carole? Isn’t it time for your dinner too?” she called out.
“We’d better go,” Carole said, taking the hint and tugging her riding jacket out of the soft chair where she’d been sitting. “You know, even though we can ride every day now, there are still two things there’s never enough time for.”
“Yeah, I know,” Stevie said. “Horses and horses, right?”
“Right.” Carole nodded. “Riding them and talking about them.”
“Make that three things, then,” Lisa said grumpily. “We never seem to have enough time for The Saddle Club, either. Or maybe it’s just that we don’t always use our time right.”
“Could be,” Carole said agreeably. She and Lisa said their good-byes to Stevie, and then Lisa trailed Carole down the stairs and out the door of Stevie’s house.
Lisa was so lost in thought about the articles of the club’s unwritten constitution that she barely remembered to say good-bye to Carole when they got to her bus stop.
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, which was a Friday, Stevie headed for Max’s office, more than a little bit nervous. Sometimes Max was hard to predict. She hoped this meeting was going to be good news, but she wasn’t at all sure. Stevie thought she’d seen Max grinning to himself when Veronica discovered the toad in her riding hat, but then again, maybe that wasn’t a grin. With Max, it was hard to tell.
And, two days ago, she’d been talking with Lisa during class. Max was more likely to be upset about that; no talking in class was another one of his firm rules. He usually didn’t care what happened after class, as long as it didn’t hurt the horses. Toads were after class; talking was in class.
Just to be on the safe side, Stevie detoured past the good-luck horseshoe. It was nailed next to the mounting area. It was a Pine Hollow tradition that all the riders were supposed to touch t
he shoe before every ride. The horseshoe had been there as long as anybody could remember, and no rider had ever been seriously hurt at Pine Hollow. Stevie brushed it with her hand on her way to Max’s office. It was worn smooth with wishes. Maybe it wouldn’t make any difference, she thought, but it made her feel better.
A few seconds later, Max was telling her to come in and sit down. That was when Stevie knew it was all right. One thing that was absolutely predictable about Max was that if he was going to chew you out (and Stevie had plenty of experience at that), he never asked you to sit down. She made herself comfortable in the chair that faced his desk.
“Stevie, do you know what a gymkhana is?” Max asked her.
“Well, sure I do,” she told him. “It’s a kind of horse show for young riders, only with games and races and things like that—right?”
“Right. In another six weeks, there’s going to be a three-day event here for the stable’s adult riders and other local competitors. I’ve been spending so much time planning the other events that I’ve almost forgotten about my young riders. You’ll all have a good time watching the events, but I want to have something special for you as well. And I don’t have one extra minute to plan it.” He sat forward in his chair and looked Stevie square in the eye. “It has come to my attention that you have a certain knack for funny activities pertaining to horses, not that I approve of a lot of what you’ve done—we won’t even talk about the recent insult to the local toad population—” Stevie giggled involuntarily. Max continued. “—but I’d like to make use of your weird sense of humor. How about it? Can you make up some events for the riders in your class, as well as the really young kids? They should be safe, of course, but fun. And they should require the use of real riding skills. Other than that, it’s up to you. Can you do it?”
Could she? “You bet I can!” Stevie told him. This was the chance of a lifetime. Her imagination was already in high gear. “You mean things like races and games? Stuff like that?”
Horse Sense Page 1