Track Record

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Forester?” a woman near the back of the room said. “Is that the senator’s son you were talking about, Eleanor?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” Mrs. Atwood replied, still gazing at Lisa sorrowfully. “He’s an acquaintance of Lisa’s, but I’m afraid she’s made him out to be a bit more lately, as I was telling you at the last meeting.”

  “He’s a congressman’s son,” Lisa snapped, fed up with the whole ridiculous scene. “I’ve been dating him since before Christmas. He’s crazy about me, and I think he’s totally amazing. He’s a fantastic kisser, and every time he touches me, it makes me tingle all over. Oh yeah, and we have a date tonight. There. Enough sharing for you, Mom?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for her mother to purse her lips in dismay and say something about not being so crude in front of company. But once again, Mrs. Atwood just shook her head sadly. “If you say so, dear,” she said. “But really, wouldn’t it be easier in the long run if you just faced things now instead of hiding behind a false front?”

  “Aargh!” Lisa threw her hands in the air. She couldn’t take it anymore. Before her mother could stop her, she whirled and stomped out of the room. Pausing just long enough to grab her coat and keys, she headed outside. It was still a little early, but she headed for the Foresters’ house to meet Scott. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to start their date.

  “Wow,” Callie commented aloud as she glanced at her watch, though the only one around to hear her was Scooby. “It’s later than I thought.”

  Scooby had made a beeline for his grain bucket as soon as she’d led him into his stall, and he didn’t respond. Callie smiled at him, amazed at her own luck in finding such a wonderful horse. Scooby had performed like a dream out on the trail that afternoon, crossing streams and scrambling up steep banks as easily as most horses walked across a pad-dock. It had been really nice to ride without worrying about anything more troubling than whether Scooby was breathing hard or the girth was coming loose. Finally having it out with George had given her such a feeling of freedom, Callie had been tempted to keep riding all night. Only the dark had chased her back in. She had been farther from Pine Hollow than she’d realized, and by the time they reached the broad fields beyond the stable, she had been relying on Scooby’s superior night vision to guide them through the darkness.

  “But we made it back safe and sound, didn’t we?” she whispered into the horse’s ear, glad that she’d taken the extra time to hand walk him until he was completely cooled out. “We make a good team.”

  Since Scooby was still far more interested in his late dinner than in her compliments, Callie gave him a pat and left him alone to finish eating. She could come back after she’d put his tack away and give him a quick grooming. Now that she had her freedom back, she didn’t want to leave the stable. She’d been stuck at home for too long.

  In the tack room, Callie hummed to herself as she slung her saddle onto its assigned rack, then wiped off her bit and hung up the bridle. Checking her watch again, she saw that it was almost ten o’clock. She wondered if she should call home and let her parents know where she was. Then she remembered that they were out at a dinner for the other members of her father’s welfare committee—they probably weren’t even home yet.

  Good, she thought with satisfaction. Then I don’t have to hurry.

  She walked across the hall to the girls’ bathroom. As she washed her hands, she found herself staring at the reflection in the mirror of the room’s single high, narrow window. Unless she missed her guess, it would give her a clear view right across the stable yard to the parking lot beyond.

  So what? she thought, a little annoyed with herself. My plan worked. He’s not here. I would have seen him by now. Probably about fifty times already.

  Still, she couldn’t resist. Drying her hands on a paper towel, she turned and walked over to the window. She crumpled the damp towel, winged it over her shoulder at the trash, and then stood on tiptoes to grab the edge of the window. Pulling herself up, she was just able to peer over the sill. Sure enough, the parking lot was clearly visible, illuminated by the stable’s safety spotlight, which stayed on all the time. Callie could see that the only vehicle parked there was the stable’s battered old truck, still hitched to the horse trailer that had brought the two new horses over the day before.

  Smiling with relief, Callie let go of the window. See? she chided herself. No white car. No problem.

  The windowsill had been dusty, so she rinsed her hands again quickly. Then she hurried out of the room, humming softly again under her breath. Stopping by the tack room just long enough to grab her grooming kit, she headed back toward Scooby’s stall.

  “Finished eating, Scoob?” she sang out as she approached. “I hope so, because I—”

  She gasped, all the breath leaving her body as she swung open the stall door. Scooby seemed to be finished with his grain. He was standing calmly in the middle of the stall. At his side, feeding him something from his hand, was George Wheeler.

  “Hi, Callie,” George said in his bland, high-pitched voice. “What a coincidence seeing you here.”

  Callie’s head spun. All she could do was open her mouth and try to scream, but nothing came out.

  FOURTEEN

  Carole blinked and frowned, pausing in the act of stacking rubber bell boots on a shelf. “Did you hear something?” she commented.

  Ben glanced at the door of the equipment shed, which was closed tight against the frigid evening air. “Nope,” he said, returning his attention to the sheet of paper in front of him. He made a check mark on it with a stubby pencil, then stood to return half a case of leather conditioner to its assigned shelf. “Probably the wind.”

  “Oh. You’re probably right.” Carole shrugged. “Anyway, it definitely didn’t sound like a horse.”

  Ben nodded his agreement and resumed his seat on an overturned bucket. Carole smiled, glad that that was settled. The last thing she felt like doing at that moment was leaving the cozy shed to go investigate strange noises in the night. She and Ben had been working together for the past hour or two, taking inventory of the shed. They had spent the first few minutes discussing Jinx and his training, then lapsed into a companionable silence broken only by the occasional question or comment about the contents of the floor-to-ceiling shelves. Carole had been pleasantly surprised when Ben had offered to stay and help with the inventory—it meant putting in extra hours, and Ben spent an awful lot of hours at the stable as it was. But thanks to their hard work, the overstuffed shed was almost completely organized and inventoried. There were only two shelves to go, and Carole was a little disappointed that they would be finished soon.

  This is nice, she thought, not for the first time, as she sneaked a glance at Ben. The overhead light threw his cheekbones into sharp relief, making him look mysterious and handsome. Carole shivered slightly, wondering if Stevie was right. Maybe it was a bad idea to think there could ever be anything special between her and Ben.

  Then again, maybe not. She had seen something in his expression the day before when he’d bent over her to check her eye. She couldn’t have imagined that, could she?

  Sure I could have, she reminded herself, trying to be realistic. I thought I saw true love in Cam’s eyes, too. And that turned out to be totally bogus.

  Still, she couldn’t help thinking that it had been different with Cam. True, she had thought she loved him. But had she ever really felt comfortable with him, the way she felt with Ben right that minute?

  Not really, she admitted honestly. With Cam, I always sort of felt like we were playing roles in some romantic movie. It was exciting, it was different, but it wasn’t quite real life. Not like this.

  Remembering what she was supposed to be doing, she grabbed a large cardboard box off the next shelf. It contained a jumble of miscellaneous screws, latches, studs, and other small hardware. Ben glanced at her. “Want me to help you sort that?” he asked.

  Carole nodded. “That would be great. Thanks.�
�� She set the box on the ground between them and took a seat on another overturned bucket.

  Anyway, I have to figure it out, she thought, watching Ben surreptitiously as he stood and grabbed a couple of smaller boxes to put the stuff into. No matter what Stevie thinks, I have to at least give this a chance.

  She felt a mixture of annoyance and guilt when she thought about Stevie’s comments the day before. Carole had managed to avoid her ever since—she wasn’t ready to talk to her friends about what seemed to be happening between her and Ben. For one thing, she knew they’d never liked him much. He was way too quiet and private for Stevie, and too aloof and borderline rude for Lisa. Besides, if Carole couldn’t understand what was going on with her and Ben herself, how could she possibly explain it to anyone else, even her best friends?

  All I know is that I like being with Ben, even if we’re never anything more than friends, Carole thought, tossing a horseshoe nail into a box. It’s sort of ridiculous, but I’m happier sitting here with him now, sorting little metal thingies into boxes, than I was on any of my big romantic dates with Cam. Even though I loved Cam—or thought I did, anyway—I never really felt that comfortable with our relationship. I was never quite sure what to do or say to him, and I didn’t really know what he saw in me, why he loved me so much. Or claimed he did, anyway. She grimaced at the memory of how cold and hard his face had looked as he’d walked out on her on New Year’s Eve.

  Ben looked up just in time to catch her expression. “You okay?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Getting tired?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Carole replied quickly.

  Ben nodded and returned his attention to his task. Carole watched him for a moment out of the corner of her eye. Being Ben’s friend had never been especially easy. Despite that, she realized that there had been at least one constant in their relationship: She’d never felt as though she had to pretend to be someone she wasn’t with him. Their common unconditional love of the horses they worked with every day had given them an instant bond, even if they’d never really acknowledged it to each other. Whatever good or bad Ben saw in her, he saw it in the real her. In fact, Carole suspected that Ben probably knew her better than most people did.

  She blinked, realizing it was the first time she’d thought about it like that. She and Ben had worked side by side for a couple of years now, and she’d sort of taken him for granted for most of that time. But the truth is, she thought, I’d really miss him if he weren’t here. I’d miss him a lot.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Ben was looking at her again.

  Carole realized that her forehead was scrunched up in concentration as she contemplated their relationship. “Uh-huh,” she said, blinking as she snapped out of her thoughts and grabbed a bucket hook out of the box. She gave Ben a sidelong glance. “Um, actually I’m really good. This is … um, nice.

  “Oh.” Ben looked slightly confused. “Uh, okay.”

  Carole knew she should let it drop. She’d gotten herself in trouble in the past when she’d tried to express her feelings to Ben. But she couldn’t resist trying one more time. “I mean it,” she said shyly. “I’m having fun hanging out here like this. With you.”

  She held her breath, half expecting him to stand up and leave the shed, or at least to scowl and turn away. Instead he cleared his throat and glanced down at his hands. “Yeah,” he said, his voice even gruffer and lower than usual. “Me too.”

  Carole’s eyes widened in amazement. Was she imagining things, or had Ben just admitted to having some kind of positive feelings about her? “Really?” she blurted out. “Um, you like hanging out here, too? With me, I mean?”

  Ben looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he muttered, glancing up at her briefly from beneath his lowered brows. “I do.” He cleared his throat again, squaring his shoulders as if he’d just reached a decision. “Er, it’s been—that is, I’ve wanted to say so. For a while now.”

  Carole gulped and set down the bucket hook she was still holding. What was Ben saying? She didn’t want to jump to any wrong conclusions, like she had that day at the horse show. But it really almost sounded like … “What—What do you mean?” she stammered uncertainly.

  “This is—I’m not very—It’s hard for me.” Ben coughed and shifted his weight. “I don’t really know how to say it right.”

  He paused, and Carole leaned toward him. He couldn’t back away from this conversation now—she couldn’t stand it. “Just say it,” she urged him. “What is it, Ben?”

  “Carole.” He lifted his head and looked at her straight on. “It’s just—I—well, I think we’ve been holding back for too long. That is, I have.” He took a deep breath. “I—I like you. Not just as a friend.”

  Carole gasped. Those were the words she’d never thought she’d hear him say. And, she realized, they were the words she’d been waiting to hear, even before Cam had come along. “Me too!” she choked out. “I like you, too. I can’t believe—I mean, I thought you—I didn’t think you felt that way.”

  Ben shrugged awkwardly. “I did,” he said. “I have. For a while now.”

  “But that day at the horse show,” Carole began before she could stop herself. She blushed, but she figured there was no point in holding back now. “When you—when we—”

  “I know,” Ben interrupted with a pained expression. “I—It was an impulse. Something I’d thought about doing for, well, a while.”

  “But afterward you acted like you wished it never happened,” Carole said, confused. “It was like you wanted to totally ignore it.”

  Ben bit his lip. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet and raw. “I was stupid. I thought—well, I didn’t want to take advantage. Not then, when you had enough to deal with. So I backed off.”

  “Oh.” Carole’s eyes widened. Had Ben actually felt guilty for kissing her at a vulnerable moment? Was that why he’d acted so weird afterward? Now that she thought about it, that sounded like something Ben would do. If only she’d been able to see that sooner! She felt like the world’s biggest fool. Or at least one of the top two.

  I can’t believe we wasted, like, two months dancing around each other like this, she thought, shaking her head slightly in amazement. If I’d just had the guts to confront him back then, or if he’d been able to tell me any of what he was feeling, we might have been together all along.

  “What?” Ben was gazing at her anxiously. “Um, what are you thinking about?”

  Carole laughed ruefully. “I was just thinking that we’re really two of a kind,” she said.

  “Oh.” Ben looked a little confused.

  Carole wondered what he was thinking. She thought about asking him. Then she had a better idea.

  Okay, Ben was awfully brave to speak up like that when he didn’t know how I’d react, she told herself. Now it’s my turn to be bold.

  Scooting her bucket a little closer to Ben’s, she leaned over and kissed him. And this time he didn’t even try to get away.

  Callie pressed her back against the stall wall, feeling a bucket hook digging into her shoulder. She was already wishing she hadn’t entered after seeing George in there. But she hadn’t been able to resist checking what he was feeding to her horse. It had turned out to be nothing more than carrot chunks, but somehow, as soon as she’d entered the stall, George had managed to position himself between her and the door.

  For the past ten minutes he had been babbling on and on about Scooby, his own schedule, and even the weather while she stood frozen in place, too shaken by his sudden, unexpected appearance to form a coherent sentence. “… and so after I realized you weren’t home, I figured I’d stop by and see if you were here.”

  Callie blinked, trying to pull herself together and focus. “You—Wait. You were at my house tonight?” she asked. Scooby blinked and lifted his head slightly at the sound of her voice. The horse had been drowsing in the corner of his stall since finishing off his snack.

  George turned to pat Scooby as the horse snuffled at him curiously. �
�Uh-huh.” He shrugged and smiled, as if dropping by to visit Callie at home were the most natural thing in the world. “All the windows were dark, and I thought you might be asleep. But when I climbed up that fence across the street, I could see that there was no one in your bed.”

  Callie gasped, horrified. “You peeked in my bed-room window?”

  “I wouldn’t call it peeking.” George sounded slightly offended. “I was just checking on you. I was worried, Callie. You know I care about you, and I want to protect you.”

  Callie’s head was spinning. Oh my god, she thought.He’s crazy. He’s actually truly crazy.

  “Listen, George,” she said carefully, her fingers digging into the wooden partition behind her. “We talked about this earlier, remember? How you weren’t going to bother me anymore?”

  “Oh, it’s no bother.” George beamed. “I mean, did Superman ever act like it was a bother to keep saving Lois Lane? Nope. Because he loved her. Just like I love you and you love me. You know we’re going to be together, Callie. It’s meant to be.”

  “No, it’s not!” Callie snapped, feeling panicky. “I don’t love you, and I never will. You’ve got to get that through your head, George.”

  Instead of looking upset or angry, George smiled. “I love it when you say my name, Callie,” he said huskily. He took a step toward her. “You know, it’s good that we ended up here together tonight. I was getting tired of playing your game, and now we can just drop it. Right?”

  “Wrong.” Callie wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but she didn’t like it. “I’m not playing any games. I meant what I told you earlier.”

  “Yes, darling.” George smiled at her indulgently. “That’s what I love most about you. Your spirit.”

  Callie bit her lip, wondering what to do. She’d never seen George like this before—he was totally over the edge. There was no telling what he’d say or do next, and Callie realized it was pointless to try to reason with him. She just had to figure out a way to get away from him. Obviously her scream hadn’t been loud enough to reach Max’s house at the top of the hill behind the stable. And there wasn’t likely to be anyone else within earshot, not this late at night.