“Nothing at all,” Stevie said reassuringly. “I just never had any idea that you were so full of ideas for horseback games.”
“See what I meant?” Carole asked Stevie. “This girl’s got horse sense.”
“I think she just likes to have fun,” Stevie joked.
“With my friends,” Lisa told them. She reached up in the air with her hand. Carole’s and Stevie’s hands met with hers. “High fifteen!” they said together.
“THERE YOU GO!” Carole hollered at Lisa. “You’ve just about got it!”
“I know she’s got it, but what about me?” Stevie yelled back. Her question was punctuated by the unmistakable splat of an egg hitting the ground.
“You have to go get another one, Lisa, and give that to Stevie. The important part is handing the spoon over to her while you’re both on moving horses.”
Lisa turned her pony, Quarter, around and signaled him to go fast. He scampered back to the bowl where spare eggs were stored. She took another, placed it in the spoon, made a U-turn, and sprinted back to the starting line, where Stevie was waiting for her.
“Now slow down—” Carole instructed from the sidelines.
Lisa reined Quarter down to a trot, then, just as Nickel began to pick up speed, Stevie took the spoon from Lisa, smooth as could be—until Nickel jerked to a stop at the far line and the egg rolled out of the spoon and onto the ground. Splat!
“Hey, this is great!” Carole said.
“If you like scrambled eggs,” Stevie said, making a wry face.
“Everybody likes scrambled eggs,” Lisa said. “And I never had so much fun on a horse as this. It’s a great race and everybody’s going to love it—except maybe Red if he has to clean the ring afterward.”
“We could use hard-boiled eggs,” Carole suggested.
“No way! These raw ones are much more fun,” Stevie said. “Okay, now we’ve figured out how this one works; we can’t try the costume race until tomorrow. I’ll bring our whole costume box then so we can sort out things that are equally hard. I mean, it’s not fair to have one team just have to slip on a sheet while another has to put on a whole lot of pirate stuff! We’ll just have to see how it goes tomorrow. For now, though, what can we do with all the hardware Lisa borrowed from Mrs. Reg?”
Together, they examined the booty. Within a few minutes, they’d designed a race that involved picking up a double-end snap from one of the pillars on the course and then attaching it to a chain suspended from another pillar. When they tested it, they found it was tricky holding the pony still with one hand and trying to fasten the snap with the other.
“Perfect,” Stevie announced. “It’s good and devious, but it’s not impossible. Just the kind of thing I wanted. Now, what were you suggesting about holding a lot of rings on a riding crop?”
“I think first the rider has to sort of scoop them up from someplace, don’t you?” Lisa asked.
“Yeah, but how?” Stevie asked. It took a little longer to solve that problem, because it took a while to figure out how the rings could be scoopable, but eventually they discovered that the rings stood up nicely in a glob of bubble gum, which could be perched atop the chest-high pillar.
“Great, that’s another. We’ve gotten more done in an hour together than I could accomplish in ten days by myself.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t ask us for help earlier,” Carole said.
“Well, that’s the way Niagara Falls,” Stevie said philosophically. “And speaking of Niagara Falls, how about something with water? Like maybe the riders get a cupful of water and have to race to the end with it and pass it off to a teammate—sort of a variation on the egg race, but the water’s going to splash out!”
“And the winner is the team that finishes with the most water,” Lisa chimed in.
“I like it,” Carole said. “Let’s give it a trial. I’ll get some paper cups.”
Fifteen minutes later, all three girls had been completely sloshed with water. Their breeches were wet, the ponies’ saddles were wet, and they’d had a wonderful time.
“That was so much fun that I think we’ll have to do something else with water,” Stevie said.
“Water-gun target shooting?”
“Bingo!” Stevie yelled.
WHEN IT CAME time to leave, the girls reluctantly untacked the ponies. Even Nickel and Quarter seemed sorry to stop for the night.
“Don’t worry, guys,” Stevie consoled Nickel as she slid his stall door closed. “There’s lots more work to do, and lots more fun to have. We’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
“Why are all the ponies named after money?” Lisa asked.
“It’s one of those Pine Hollow traditions,” Carole explained. “Max names them after ‘small change,’ because of their small size. Some people think ponies are young horses, but that’s not true. They’re small horses. These guys,” she said, pointing to Nickel, Quarter, and their stablemates, Penny and Tuppence, “are all full grown. Their small size makes them perfect for the kinds of games we’ve been working on. Even the littlest kids can ride them and they’re very agile.”
“Speaking of small horses, let’s go take a look at Samson,” Stevie suggested. The girls stowed the pony tack and then walked softly to Samson and Delilah’s stall.
“He’s grown already, hasn’t he?” Lisa asked.
“Oh, yes. He’s already bigger and stronger,” Carole said excitedly. “Look how he’s sort of frisking around the stall. That’s not going to be big enough for him in a few days. Just wait until the two of them get out in the paddock. Judy said they could go outside in a few days. He’s going to love it. Delilah will too. Horses were born to be outside. Stalls aren’t natural for them. They were invented for people’s convenience. On my farm, horses will spend almost all their time in the paddocks—”
“Stop her, Lisa. If she gets going on ‘her farm,’ we’ll never get out of here!” Stevie said in mock alarm.
“I know, I do talk a lot, don’t I?” Carole asked.
“Only about horses,” Lisa said, consolingly.
“Let’s go to TD’s,” Stevie invited her friends. “I think we have some celebrating to do.”
“We’ll make it a Club meeting, then, won’t we?” Lisa suggested.
“Why not?” Stevie agreed. “It’s about time we all went to one together,” she said, joking at her own expense.
A HALF AN hour later, tired, but happy, the three girls settled into a booth at TD’s and ordered some ridiculous concoctions. Stevie asked for a pineapple sundae with marshmallow fluff. Carole slapped her hand over her mouth, pretending to gag.
“You should talk,” Stevie teased. “You think I want the hot fudge on pistachio you ordered?”
“I think sundaes are very personal,” Lisa interrupted. “And personally, I want hot fudge too.” The waitress jotted that down. “On bubble gum crunch.”
“I’m not saying a thing,” Stevie announced. “Lisa’s right. Sundaes are very personal, and personally, I don’t want what either of you ordered.”
“Agreed,” Carole said sensibly. “Now, to the first piece of business at this official meeting of The Saddle Club …”
“About the rules,” Lisa began.
“Yes, about the rules—” Stevie said.
“No, let me talk,” Lisa interrupted. Carole and Stevie were quiet. Lisa continued, “I had this idea, see, that if we didn’t have rules, and purposes, and dues, that we couldn’t be a real club.”
“How could—” Stevie started to speak, but Carole’s slight frown made her halt.
“But I’ve been thinking about it,” Lisa went on, “and it seems to me that every club should be what all its members want it to be. Rules have a place in the world—we all need them. But we don’t need them all the time, and not everything is ruled by rules. Some things are ruled by—”
She stopped because she was looking for the right word. Stevie supplied it. “Horse sense, you mean?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I m
ean,” Lisa said, grinning. “Some people might call it common sense, but in The Saddle Club, it ought to be known as horse sense. Okay, so we don’t need a lot of new rules. Mostly, we just need the ones we already had, like we have to help each other—the way we’ve been helping Stevie with making up gymkhana races.”
“And members have to be horse crazy,” Carole added.
“And they have to have horse sense,” Stevie continued.
“And that’s it,” Carole finished.
“Not quite,” Lisa said. “There’s one thing I did that I didn’t even put in the rules, but I think we should use it anyway.” Lisa could feel her friends shift nervously. They really didn’t want any rules at all. Their friendship and love of horses were enough.
“What’s that?” Stevie asked hesitantly.
“Well, real clubs—and I know now that this is a real club—usually have symbols like shirts and ties and banners, stuff like that. The Saddle Club now has an official Club pin—and this is it.”
She pointed to the shiny horse-head pin on her blouse.
“Hey, that’s neat,” Stevie said. “I didn’t notice it before, but I like it.”
“Me too,” Carole added. “Where did you get it? Can we buy them too?”
“You don’t have to,” Lisa said, feeling terribly excited now that her nice secret was going to be shared. “I have one for each of you, too. Here they are.” Proudly, she handed the identical pins to her friends. Proudly, they pinned them on their blouses just as Lisa had.
“That’s cool,” Stevie said. “I never would have thought of something like that, but I like it a lot.”
“Actually,” Lisa confessed, “I bought four of them. So now we have a spare pin, just in case it should ever happen that we find a person who deserves it.”
“I’ve seen lots of horse pins, but this is the prettiest,” Carole told Lisa. “Only you would think of something neat like this, Lisa. You’ve got a special kind of, oh, I don’t know—”
“Horse sense?” Lisa suggested.
“That’s exactly right,” Carole said. “Dare I call it le mot juste?”
For a moment, just a moment, Lisa held her breath. Was Carole teasing her about Estelle? Yes, she was, Lisa decided, and moreover, she deserved it! Her solemn face broke into a grin and then she burst into giggles. Stevie and Carole joined in. They were still laughing when their sundaes arrived.
About the Author
Bonnie Bryant is the author of nearly a hundred books about horses, including the Saddle Club series, the Saddle Club Super Editions, and the Pony Tales series.
Horse Sense Page 10