Track Record

by Bonnie Bryant

  “It’s just, um, Mom has really been on my case for the past couple of days,” she admitted. “You know, because of the breakup. She seems to think I should be a big puddle of rejection and self-hatred or something. Since I’m not, I guess she thinks I’m covering up my true feelings. You know, repression or compensation or whatever.”

  “Hmmm,” Stevie said, pulling Belle up beside Barq as the trail widened. “Sounds like ol’ Eleanor has been spending too much time with the gripers again.”

  Lisa was glad to see that Stevie’s expression was sympathetic and concerned, but not upset or angry. Carole, on the other hand, was visibly disturbed as she glanced at Lisa over her shoulder. “Carole?” Lisa said, surprised. “What’s the matter?”

  Without further ado, Carole burst into tears. She managed to bring Starlight to a halt, then dropped her reins on his withers and buried her face in her hands. The others pulled up, too. Lisa and Stevie exchanged confused and worried glances. Callie just looked startled as she circled Scooby around and walked him back toward the others.

  “Carole?” Stevie said, nudging Belle over beside Starlight. “What’s wrong?”

  Suddenly Lisa realized she hadn’t really talked to Carole in a couple of days—not since New Year’s Eve, when Carole and her new boyfriend Cam had had their first fight. At least that was what Lisa had heard from other people. Feeling a little guilty about being so self-absorbed, she smiled at Carole sympathetically. “Does this mean you and Cam haven’t made up yet?” she asked. “I heard you guys had a fight on New Year’s Eve.”

  “N-not exactly,” Carole managed to say between sobs. She wiped her eyes and glanced at her friends, her face miserable. “I mean, we didn’t just have a fight. He dumped me.”

  “Oh.” Lisa tried not to sound as skeptical as she felt. She still remembered how devastating that kind of situation could be. At the beginning of a relationship, every little argument and disagreement felt like the end of the world. “Um, have you guys tried talking about it? I mean—”

  “Yeah,” Stevie interjected, loosening her reins as Belle lowered her head and sniffed at the brownish weeds beside the trail. “Sometimes things get blown out of proportion, especially when you’re just starting out. Cam really loves you. He’ll want to—”

  “He doesn’t,” Carole interrupted, more tears spilling out of her wide brown eyes. “He made that pretty clear. All he cared about was … was …” She sobbed again.

  “What?” Lisa couldn’t imagine what this was about, though she was starting to think it might be more serious than the typical petty first tiff. Carole was pretty sensitive, but she wasn’t the melodramatic type. She glanced at the others. Stevie looked just as confused and concerned as Lisa felt. Callie, who had been quiet until then, was gazing at Carole worriedly. “Carole, you can tell us,” Lisa added, dropping her stirrups to stretch her legs as Barq stood quietly with the other horses. “What happened?”

  “Remember our gift exchange?” Carole asked.

  Lisa shrugged. “Sure,” she said, and Stevie nodded. Carole had spent more than a week shopping and planning, trying to figure out the perfect Christmas gift for Cam.

  “Well, as it turned out, there was only one gift Cam really wanted from me,” Carole said, her voice sad and bitter. “One very, um, intimate kind of gift. If you know what I mean.”

  Lisa’s eyes widened. “Oh!” she said, wondering if she was misunderstanding. “You mean—”

  “Uh-huh.” Carole gulped back another sob. “He made it quite clear. That’s why he brought me to the hayloft on New Year’s Eve. He thought it would be the perfect spot, nice and private. And when I wouldn’t go along with it, when I told him I wasn’t ready for that yet, he told me it was over.”

  “That rat!” Stevie exclaimed so angrily that Belle flinched beneath her. “That total jerk! I can’t believe he’d do that! What a total, complete, utter …,” she sputtered, clearly too furious to settle on just the right descriptive name.

  Callie was shaking her head. “Wow,” she said. “Sounds like quite a piece of work.”

  Lisa was too shocked to speak for a moment. She and Carole and Stevie had all known Cam in junior high, and back then he had been a really nice guy. It was hard to believe that someone could change so much in a few years. But if what Carole was saying was true—and looking at her tearstained face, Lisa was convinced that it was—then that was just what had happened. Nice, polite, caring Cam had morphed into a selfish, manipulative cad.

  Stevie was still muttering angrily, but Lisa just felt sad. “I know this has got to be rough, Carole,” she said, wondering why her friend seemed to have such bad luck with guys. “But try not to beat yourself up about it. He fooled all of us.”

  “Yeah,” Stevie added, scratching Belle on the withers to soothe her. “I’ve seen players before, but Cam is obviously a real pro. You can do way better than him.”

  Lisa was expecting Carole to argue—she’d been so smitten with Cam that it had seemed she’d forgotten other guys existed—but instead she just nodded thoughtfully. “Uh-huh,” she murmured. “I guess you’re right.”

  “You’re right I’m right,” Stevie said firmly. “You deserve someone who cares about you—someone who’ll treat you right, without pressuring you or playing games.”

  “I’m sorry for whining on about Mom and Alex before,” Lisa said, still feeling a little guilty for neglecting her friend in her hour of need, even unintentionally. “I guess I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I didn’t even realize what you were going through.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Carole reassured her. She smiled wanly through her tears. “I—I was trying not to let it show. And what with starting back to work and everything, I thought I was pulling it off for a while there. I guess it’s that repression stuff your mom was talking about, huh?” She giggled, then hiccuped.

  “Hey, repression is cool,” Callie put in with a smile. “But you know what I discovered is the only real cure for this kind of thing?”

  “Bloody, violent revenge?” Stevie suggested hopefully.

  Callie laughed. “Nope,” she said. “A nice long canter. How about it?”

  Carole’s smile looked more sincere this time. “That could work,” she said. “Why don’t we give it a try?

  “Sounds good,” Lisa agreed, shooting Callie a grateful glance. They would have plenty of time to talk about this in the days and weeks to come, as Carole’s heart slowly healed. But at the moment, Callie was right. The best thing for Carole would be to take her mind off it for a while by doing something she loved.

  “So what are we waiting for?” Stevie glanced at the wide, smooth trail ahead of them. They had followed it many times over the years, and they all knew that it emerged at a broad, gently sloping field. It was the perfect spot for a canter.

  Lisa gathered her reins. “Come on,” she said, suddenly feeling happy in spite of everything. “Let’s go!”

  FOUR

  “So, Stevie,” Phil Marsten said as Stevie pulled her car neatly into an empty spot in Pine Hollow’s parking area the next day. “I have a question for you.”

  “Huh?” Stevie blinked, momentarily distracted from the plans and ideas that had been tumbling through her head during the ride over to the stable from Phil’s house. She glanced at her boyfriend. “What is it?”

  Phil grinned. “Are you ever going to talk about anything except eventing ever again?” he asked. “I mean, it’s not that I’m not enjoying this monologue—er, I mean, conversation. I’m just wondering.”

  Stevie stuck out her tongue at him as she pulled the key out of the ignition. “Very funny,” she said, knowing that he was teasing her. She and Phil had met years earlier at a summer riding camp, and they’d been inseparable ever since. Their relationship had gone through a few ups and downs over the years, but their strong underlying friendship had carried them through, along with their shared sense of humor. “Come on, let’s go, before the little kids grab all the best horses and yo
u end up riding fat old Patch on our trail ride.”

  The two of them climbed out of the car and headed for the stable. As they entered, Stevie started talking about her plans again. “I really don’t know why I never thought to try it before.” She was excited just thinking about the new world that was opening up before her. “I mean, it totally makes sense. I love dressage. I love jumping. What could be better?” Remembering Phil’s comment, she grinned. “Oh, and by the way—eventing, eventing, eventing!”

  Phil let out a mock groan and pretended to wing his hard hat at her head, though in actuality he merely tossed it gently in her direction. Stevie caught it easily and tucked it under her arm, still smiling.

  Ben Marlow was crossing the entryway with a broom in his hand when Stevie and Phil entered. Stevie shot the stable hand a quick smile, expecting him to ignore her and hurry on his way, as usual. She was already turning back toward Phil to say something else about her eventing plans when she heard Ben clear his throat.

  “Er, hello,” he said gruffly.

  Stevie blinked in surprise. Glancing at Ben again, she saw that he was looking at her, his expression a shade less hostile than usual. “Oh,” she said. “Um, hi. How’s it going, Ben?”

  Beside her, Phil nodded to the other guy. “Hey,” he said.

  Ben gave a weird little half shrug and glanced at the door. “Pretty cold out there, huh?” he muttered. Before either of the others could answer, he cleared his throat again and then hurried off, disappearing down the stable aisle.

  Stevie blinked. Was she imagining things, or had Ben Marlow just commented on the weather? Phil looked surprised, too.

  “That was bizarre,” Stevie said as soon as she was sure Ben was out of earshot. “Since when did Monosyllabic Marlow turn into Mr. Small Talk?”

  Phil shrugged. “Maybe he has a crush on you,” he joked.

  “Yeah, right.” Stevie snorted, brushing a strand of dark blond hair out of her eyes. “Trust me, if there’s anyone he’s hot for around here, it’s not me.”

  “Does that mean you still think he’s after Carole?” Phil asked. “I thought he blew her off after they kissed that time.”

  “Yeah.” Stevie wrinkled her nose, staring off in the direction Ben had gone. “Still, the way he looks at her sometimes … I don’t know. I guess they’re just friends, like Carole says. He’s weird, that’s all. Antisocial.” She shook her head. “I sort of wish he’d stay away from her for a while, especially after what she’s just been through with Cam. She doesn’t need to deal with more head games right now.”

  Phil shrugged again. “Well, they do work together, so I—”

  “Hey, good-looking,” a voice drawled, interrupting him.

  Stevie turned and saw Maureen emerging from the hallway leading to the office and tack room. She rolled her eyes, guessing that the stable hand’s compliment hadn’t been directed at her. Sure enough, Maureen was grinning at Phil as she eyed him up and down, from his slightly tousled brown hair to his well-worn paddock boots. Stevie sighed. From the first day she’d arrived at Pine Hollow, Maureen had made a point of flirting with every guy she encountered, from Red O’Malley to Scott Forester to the hay delivery man. Just about the only one who seemed to be safe from her attention was Max, probably because he was her boss.

  Maureen had better watch out, she thought. This boy-crazy act of hers isn’t going to make her too popular around here. Especially if she keeps making eyes at other people’s boyfriends.

  Stevie knew she didn’t have to worry about Phil—he wasn’t about to be swayed by Maureen’s long legs and cool gold-flecked eyes. But some girl-friends might not be quite so confident. Besides, worried or not, Stevie couldn’t help feeling a little annoyed that Maureen would flirt so blatantly right in front of her.

  She was tempted to say something to Maureen about the way she was acting, but she bit her tongue as the phone rang from the direction of the office and the stable hand turned and hurried off to answer it. Stevie sighed again. Maybe she would talk to Maureen one of these days. But not right then.

  “Heads up,” she called to Phil, tossing him his hard hat. He caught it easily, swishing it onto his head in one smooth motion. Stevie grinned, remembering how she’d taught him that trick years earlier. Forgetting all about Maureen and Ben and everything else, she was suddenly eager to get outside and ride with her boyfriend. “Come on, let’s hit the tack room!”

  “Large, small, large, large, pony,” Carole muttered, quickly hanging the newly cleaned nylon girths slung over her arm on the proper pegs on the tack room wall. “Small, pony, large …” As soon as she finished her task, she was supposed to meet Max next door in the office to go look at the potential new school horses. “Small, small, large …”

  “Carole?” a low, tentative voice said from behind her, so close that she jumped in surprise, almost dropping the rest of the girths.

  She spun around. “Ben?” she said. “Oh! You startled me.”

  “Sorry.” Ben took a step backward, looking strangely anxious. “Uh, I wanted to, you know, talk to you. About something.”

  Carole gulped, scanning the past couple of hours in her mind. Ben looked so weird, she was suddenly convinced that she must have done something horribly wrong, like put antiseptic in the fly-spray bottles or left the front pasture gate open. “What is it?” she asked worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

  “What? Oh, um, nothing.” Ben cleared his throat. “I just—It’s Firefly.”

  “What about her?” Firefly was a young mare Max had bought the previous summer. Carole and Ben had been working together on her training before Carole’s grounding. “Has she been making progress since, um—you know?” She blushed slightly, still feeling ashamed when she thought about her long absence.

  Ben nodded. “She’s good,” he said. “Uh, but the clippers—well. She still hates them. More than most.”

  “Ah.” Carole thought about that. Firefly was pretty high-strung, and her ground training had needed plenty of work when she’d first arrived. Carole and Ben had managed to bring her along on most of the basics—the mare would now lead, tie, load, and stand quietly for grooming, bathing, and tacking. But she’d always been antsy when she heard the electric clippers turn on, and now it sounded as though Ben hadn’t worked through that with her yet. That was surprising. Ben was one of the most patient people Carole had ever met when it came to training horses, and with most horses he could easily have solved such a simple issue long ago. “Well, let’s see,” she said. “Maybe it’s time to approach the clippers thing in a different way.…”

  She and Ben discussed the problem for a minute or two. Ben told her what he’d been trying so far, then Carole gave him all the ideas she could come up with.

  “I’m going with Max to look at those new horses today,” she told him. “But I could help you with her over the weekend if you want.”

  “Thanks.” Ben coughed and glanced at her, then at the floor. “You—You really know your stuff.”

  Carole was astounded. She’d assumed that Ben respected her horse-related knowledge and experience, as she did his. But she’d never imagined him coming right out and saying it like that.

  Before she could think of a response, Maureen stuck her head into the room. “Yo, Hanson,” she said, spotting Carole. “Heads up, girl. Max is looking for you.”

  “What? Oh, thanks,” Carole said, distracted. She still wanted to say something to Ben, to acknowledge what he’d said somehow, but he was already slipping out of the room past Maureen. Carole sighed, then turned toward the office door. Max was waiting. She would just have to figure out Ben Marlow later.

  Despite that vow, she spent most of the short ride over to Mrs. Rand’s farm pondering the possible meanings of the encounter in the tack room. She only snapped out of her reverie when Max hit the turn signal, pulling off the road into a gravel driveway. “Are we here?” Carole asked, glancing around curiously. “Wow. Nice place.”

  “Uh-huh.” Max pulled slowly up the
drive, heading toward a small green barn to one side of the Federal-style brick house. As he turned and pulled into a parking spot beside an ancient pickup truck, Carole spotted a medium-sized light gray pony trotting around the paddock. The little gelding was snorting and tossing his head, which made his flowing white mane dance over his beautifully crested neck.

  Carole let out a low whistle. “Check out that gorgeous pony,” she said excitedly. “He looks like he’s at least part Welsh, don’t you think? I wonder if that’s one of the horses Mrs. Rand wants to sell?”

  Max shrugged. “Looks like there are only two horses out here,” he commented, gesturing toward the fence near the barn, where another horse was tied.

  Carole glanced at the second horse, a bay mare, probably about sixteen hands, with two white socks and a large, plain head. She was standing calmly at the fence, her eyes half closed.

  “She looks nice,” she commented, taking in the mare’s stout build and strong hindquarters. “Burly, too. If she’s as calm and well-trained as Mrs. Rand claimed, she’d be perfect for adult beginners.”

  “We’ll see,” Max said simply. But he, too, was watching the mare with interest.

  Carole’s gaze soon wandered back to the pony. She got out of the car and strolled toward the paddock fence as Max walked over to the house. The pony watched her suspiciously, standing stock-still in the middle of the paddock. Carole leaned on the fence and clucked softly. The pony snorted. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked toward her, his soft dark eyes curious.

  “It’s okay, little boy,” Carole crooned, staying as still as possible. “I just want to say hi. You are a flashy fellow, aren’t you?” She ran her eyes admiringly over the pony’s body, which was practically flawless. Though the gelding was wearing his shaggy winter coat and was rumpled and dusty from rolling around in the paddock, Carole could easily picture him clipped and braided, circling a hunter course at an A circuit show.

  As Carole continued to talk softly to the pony, he came closer. Before long he was snuffling at her palm, a curious expression in his dark eyes.