Track Record

by Bonnie Bryant

  Is this sort of situation something I really want to deal with on a regular basis? she wondered. I mean, if I’m getting annoyed already, what does that mean for the future? Is this the kind of thing I’d get used to after a while, or will it just get worse? Or am I being stupid to even think about this becoming anything serious?

  Lisa sat back and thought about that. Both she and Scott would be starting college the next fall—just eight months away now. Lisa already knew where she was going. She’d been accepted early into Northern Virginia University, a good local school about forty miles from Willow Creek. Scott wasn’t quite as good a student as she was, but she knew he’d applied to a long list of top schools, most of which were hundreds of miles away. What if they ended up as a real couple, and he ended up somewhere like Yale or Northwestern, too far away even to visit most weekends?

  Okay, this is just a tad premature, Lisa reminded herself, realizing she’d let her mind drift way off course as she waited for Scott to finish his conversation. Sipping her water, she did her best to smile pleasantly as Kenny pounded on the table, appar-ently to express his amusement at whatever Scott had just said. I mean, judging by tonight, it doesn’t seem like Scott cares much about being with me at all.

  She realized that was a little unfair. Scott was a social person—that was just the way he was made. He had a gift for connecting with people, all sorts of people, all the time. It was the same gift that had won his father a seat in Congress, and Lisa knew that it was a big part of what made Scott, Scott. She just couldn’t help wishing he wouldn’t be quite so … well, Scott-like when he was supposed to be out with her.

  “Okay, dude,” Kenny said at last, slapping Scott on the shoulder. “I’d better get back to my buddies, or they’ll scarf all my buffalo wings.”

  “See you.” Scott waved as the other guy departed, then turned to Lisa with a smile. “Hey,” he said, noticing that Lisa had barely touched her food. “What’s the matter? I thought you liked your dinner.

  “What? Oh, sure.” Lisa forced a smile. “Just taking a break. You know, digesting.”

  He doesn’t mean anything bad by it, she thought as she busied herself with her food, not wanting Scott to guess what she was thinking. He’s just being himself. It doesn’t mean he isn’t that interested in our date—or me. It’s just different, that’s all.

  That was what she really needed to digest. That Scott wasn’t, and never would be, Alex. They were both great guys—cute, smart, interesting, and fun. But in many ways they were polar opposites. Sometimes when she was out with Alex, it had been as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist for both of them. Scott made her feel special, but not in the same way. Not in that intense, singular, totally focused way that Alex always had.

  I know I shouldn’t compare them, she thought, sneaking a glance at Scott out of the corner of her eye. I know I should accept Scott for who he is and not expect him to treat me exactly like Alex did. At that moment someone else yelled Scott’s name, and Lisa sighed, steeling herself for another long pause in their date. That’s just kind of hard to remember sometimes.

  Carole found herself humming softly under her breath as she walked from stall to stall, checking to be sure that all the horses had finished their evening meals and were doing all right. Things were winding down for the night at Pine Hollow—all the riders and boarders had gone home, and Max was up at the house, tucking his daughters into bed. Carole had always loved this time of the evening at the stable. It always felt so safe and cozy to her, like all was right with the world.

  Finally she reached Checkers’ stall at the end of the aisle. “How’re you doing, boy?” Carole asked as the friendly gelding came forward to sniff at her curiously, clearly hoping for treats. She scratched him on the jaw instead, then checked to make sure he hadn’t been messing with the latches on his door. Giving him one last pat, she glanced at her watch.

  Dad won’t be home for another couple of hours, she thought, remembering that her father had mentioned a benefit dinner he had to attend that evening. Since retiring from the Marine Corps several years earlier, Colonel Hanson had become active on the boards of several charitable organizations, which often required his appearance at some social function or another. I might as well stick around here and get some work done, Carole thought. Someone needs to refill the grain bin, and the lesson saddles are a mess.…

  Still ticking off tasks in her head, she wandered across the entryway toward the tack room, enjoying the unusual feeling of having the stable more or less to herself. Maureen had the evening off—she had left ages ago. Red and Denise were still on their honeymoon. Max had gone up to the house for dinner and family time earlier, though he would be back at some point for a final check. Ben was probably still around somewhere—he rarely left the stable before nine o’clock at night—but Carole hadn’t seen him in half an hour.

  Maybe he took off, too. After all, it is Friday night, she thought, a shadow of self-pity creeping over her good mood. Most people have things to do. Not to mention people to do them with.

  She shook her head fiercely, not wanting to think about Cam. Not now, when she was feeling so happy about being back at work. Because that happiness was the only thing keeping her from brooding over what had happened—how the guy she’d thought was in love with her had turned around and betrayed her—and she didn’t want to do that. Not now.

  Deciding that a calming physical task like cleaning tack would help to take her mind off that, she hurried into the tack room. After straightening up—as usual, that day’s lesson kids had returned half the bridles to the wrong hooks and left saddle pads draped everywhere—she set out her cleaning supplies and then walked over to pull down the closest saddle. As she turned around, she saw Ben standing in the doorway watching her.

  “Oh!” Carole said, startled. For some reason, she found herself blushing. “Um, hi there. I wasn’t sure if you were still here or not.”

  “I’m here.” As usual, Ben’s dark eyes were unreadable. Carole half expected him to turn around and leave as quickly as he could. “Um, want some help?”

  For a second, Carole wasn’t sure what he meant. Then, remembering the saddle she was still clutching, she smiled tentatively. “You mean you want to—uh, that is, sure. Thanks.”

  Ben nodded. Without another word, he turned to grab another saddle. Soon the two of them were working side by side at a pair of saddle horses, rubbing saddle soap into the well-worn leather. Usually Ben’s quiet nature made Carole want to talk more just to fill the void. But that night, his wordlessness seemed easier to accept somehow. In fact, it felt almost friendly. The two of them worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, the only sound the squeaking of leather as they worked on the saddles.

  Finally Ben glanced up and cleared his throat. “Carole …”

  “Yes?” she said quickly, wondering what he was thinking that suddenly made him look so serious.

  Ben coughed. “Oh. Uh, did you give Patch his bute yet?”

  “Uh-huh. And his foot’s looking a lot better today.”

  “Good.” The ghost of a smile flitted across Ben’s face. “The beginners have been bugging Max about him. Even heard one of them saying she was going to send him a get-well card.”

  Carole grinned. “Let me guess. That would be Mandy Fredericks?”

  “Yep.” Ben smiled back briefly before returning his attention to his work.

  Carole was a little surprised by how comfortable it felt to be there alone with Ben. He had a tendency to make most people feel uncomfortable in his presence—his dark, critical gaze and forbidding silence were enough to chase most people away within moments. Besides that, Carole was feeling pretty raw and vulnerable after what had happened with Cam. It had only been three days, and she knew it would take a lot longer than that for her to regain her trust in people. But talking with her friends on their trail ride the day before had helped a lot. And hanging out with Ben was helping, too. He was being so nice and non-Ben-like that he almost se
emed like another friend helping her in her time of need.

  But that’s silly, she reminded herself, leaning over a spot on the saddle’s skirt. Ben probably never even noticed I was going out with Cam in the first place. Let alone realized we’ve broken up now. Whatever’s behind his personality change, I’m sure it has nothing to do with me, unless he’s just glad I’m finally back doing my share of the work around here.

  After a while, as Carole returned one clean saddle to its rack and grabbed another, her thoughts turned away from Ben’s intriguing new attitude and back toward her latest preoccupation. “Hey,” she said to Ben as she set the new saddle on her saddle horse, “did you hear about those two horses Max and I looked at this afternoon?”

  Ben glanced at her. “Yeah.”

  He didn’t elaborate. Carole wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or a bad one. She took a deep breath. “Do you know if Max is really considering them?” she asked. Ben might not talk to people much, but he was always around. He might have heard something she hadn’t.

  “Don’t know,” Ben said with a shrug. “He didn’t say.

  “Oh.” Carole sighed, remembering the look in Jinx’s eyes—and also remembering the way he’d bucked and kicked and generally carried on. “I mean, Max told me he would think about it, but I don’t know. I’m afraid he was just humoring me because he knows I liked them. One of them is this pony with some issues.” With that, she launched into a detailed description of Jinx and her test ride.

  Ben listened quietly, still scrubbing his saddle. “Sounds like he needs a good sacking out, to start,” he said when Carole had finished.

  She nodded. “Definitely,” she agreed. “That, and then a review of all the basics, starting with yielding to pressure on the ground and working his way back up to the under-saddle stuff. I mean, basically I would want to start all over again as if he were a foal just learning the basics for the first time. We could start out working in the halter, dealing with handling and grooming and leading and that stuff, and then move on to longeing.…” This time she went on to describe everything she’d been thinking about Jinx’s problems and how to solve them.

  Once again, Ben waited until she’d finished. “Did you tell Max that?”

  “What?” Carole blinked, slightly confused. She was still thinking about all the potential the pony had. Potential that had been totally wasted so far but was still there, waiting for someone like Carole to set it free.

  Ben was watching her. “Your plans. Step by step. Did you tell Max?”

  “Oh. Sure.” Carole paused, thinking about that. “Well, no,” she amended. “Not exactly. I mean, I told him I thought I could really help turn him into something nice, but I guess I didn’t go into that much detail.” She shrugged. “Max knows the process, though.”

  Ben nodded slowly, not saying anything. Carole frowned slightly, wondering what he was thinking. Doesn’t he think Max knows how to train a horse? she thought. Get real. He’s probably done it dozens, if not hundreds, of times. Max could probably retrain Jinx in his sleep, if he weren’t so busy with the expansion plans and all the new students and everything.

  Glancing at Ben, she saw that he had returned his attention to the saddle he was cleaning. His hands moved the sponge expertly, automatically. Soon he was finished, and he hoisted the saddle and traded it for another. Carole blinked, suddenly realizing something.

  Back when I first started riding, I had no idea how to go about cleaning a saddle, she remembered. And even when I learned, it took me ages to do it—not to mention that I made a few mistakes along the way, like the time I saddle soaped the suede knee rolls on one of the pony saddles. She blushed slightly as she remembered that incident, which had taken place when she was about six years old. But now I can do it in a matter of minutes with one hand tied behind my back.

  She looked over at Ben again. He was focused on his work, but he glanced up and caught her gaze. “Training that pony will be a lot of work,” he said suddenly. “If you need help …”

  “Thanks.” Carole smiled gratefully. “I’m sure I will. If I can convince Max to give me—us—a shot at it.”

  To Max, retraining Jinx would be as natural as cleaning a saddle is to Ben or me, she thought. But he doesn’t have time to do it himself, and he’s worried that we don’t know how to go about it.

  “So all I have to do,” she continued the thought aloud, “is let him know that we know what to do. That we have a plan.” She realized she hadn’t been doing that so far. Instead, she had spent most of the ride home from Mrs. Rand’s farm giving Max some variation of “Pleeeeeez, let me try!”

  That kind of pleading and whining is never going to impress Max, she thought, picking up the saddle she’d just finished. But presenting him with a plan of action might do the trick. Especially if I also remind him that I do have at least a little bit of a track record training horses—I brought Starlight along from a green four-year-old to the horse he is now, and Ben and I have made a lot of progress with Firefly this year, too.

  She glanced at Ben, wondering if he realized how much he’d just helped her. Even though he hadn’t really said much, somehow he’d given her a whole new perspective on the Jinx issue. She opened her mouth, trying to find the words to thank him.

  She forgot about that when she heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards of the office next door. “That must be Max,” she said, suddenly eager to put her new plan into action. She dropped the clean saddle on its rack and headed for the door. “Wish me luck!”

  SEVEN

  Stevie hit her turn signal as she approached the exit of the shopping center’s parking lot. She hummed along with the radio as she waited for a break in traffic, squinting slightly against the brightness of the other cars’ headlights. It was already fully dark out—she and Callie had spent more time at that restaurant than she’d realized.

  She sure got chatty all of a sudden after that thing with George, she thought as she pulled out onto the road. It was like she wanted to hang out all night. Stevie smothered a yawn, glancing at the clock on her dashboard, which read 10:42 A.M. She grimaced, making a mental note to reset it when she got home.

  Though she still felt bad about the way George had taken off, Stevie was glad that Callie seemed to be feeling better. Besides, she could talk to George any time. She planned to track him down the next day to follow up on a few things they’d discussed earlier.

  It was really nice of him to offer to take me over to the cross-country course at the show grounds next week, she thought, recalling a conversation they’d had while cleaning tack that afternoon. Pine Hollow had a few fences out in the fields and on the trails, but it didn’t have anything like a real cross-country course. I hope they have one of those bank step thingies there, Stevie thought, making a mental note to ask George the proper name for that type of jump. I really want to figure out—

  “Yikes!” she exclaimed aloud, snapping out of her thoughts as someone darted into the road just a few yards in front of her.

  Spinning the wheel to one side, she jammed her foot on the brake. The car skidded to a stop just six feet or so from the pedestrian, who seemed oblivious to all danger.

  “Idiot,” Stevie muttered, her heart beating fast and furious as she clutched the steering wheel with relief. That had been close.

  Wondering who would be stupid enough to step out in front of a fast-moving car, she peered at the pedestrian, who had turned around and was holding up one hand against the brightness of Stevie’s headlights. She could see that it was a young woman, slender and dressed in a very short skirt despite the cold night. The woman had long red hair and was holding a cigarette. As Stevie squinted at her, she realized that she looked an awful lot like—

  “Maureen?” Stevie murmured uncertainly.

  At that moment the woman lowered her hand, weaving tipsily from side to side as she headed back toward the sidewalk. Stevie could see plainly that it was, indeed, Pine Hollow’s newest stable hand. And from the way she
was acting, she wasn’t even aware that she’d just missed getting run down. In fact, she didn’t seem to be aware of too much at the moment.

  “Yikes,” Stevie whispered. Maureen was staggering toward a local dive called Houdini’s. Stevie didn’t know much about the bar except that it tended to attract kind of a rough crowd. “So this is where she hangs out on her nights off?”

  As she reached the sidewalk, Maureen paused and took a drag off her cigarette. Seeming to notice Stevie’s car for the first time, she grinned and waved the cigarette at it in a sort of boozy salute. Stevie had no idea if the stable hand had recognized her or not—it was dark, and Maureen didn’t seem to be in a terribly observant mood—but either way, she didn’t bother to wave back. Instead she continued slowly on her way.

  So that’s the person who’s helping take care of my horse? Stevie thought in disgust as she reached the corner. She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw that several men had emerged from the bar and joined Maureen. All of them seemed to be dancing on the sidewalk in front of the bar. Stevie could hear their laughing and hollering even half a block away with her windows rolled up.

  Still, however Maureen chose to let off steam on her own time, Stevie reminded herself that she’d never behaved that way at Pine Hollow. Aside from sneaking a cigarette once in the women’s bathroom, the new stable hand had seemed to be a conscientious, hardworking employee. Of course, there was the constant flirting, too, but that wasn’t really a big deal. At least not as far as the horses were concerned.

  Anyway, that’s kind of how people are, Stevie thought. Though she was well past the bar by now, she kept her speed down, still spooked by the close call. They aren’t usually all good or all bad—more like a combination of both. Sort of like George. Callie acts like he’s the devil, and from her perspective he really is pretty obnoxious, following her around and mooning over her all the time, even though she’s made it perfectly clear that she’s not interested. Because of all that, she just can’t see the sweet, helpful side of him that I saw tonight. It’s a shame, really. They could both be missing out on a really nice friendship.