Track Record

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Tonight?” Stevie repeated blankly. Then she blinked. “Oh! Right. The double date.” She smiled, suddenly realizing that she had something left to look forward to that day, even if her exciting afternoon of cross-country jumping was over. Another new development, if not quite as huge and overwhelming as the others.

  This evening could be interesting, she thought. Then she crossed her fingers. And fun. I hope we have fun. All of us.

  Where Ben Marlow was involved, that wasn’t necessarily a sure thing. He wasn’t the kind of guy who brought the word fun immediately to mind. When Carole had first admitted to liking her fellow Pine Hollow stable hand as more than a friend, Stevie had been dismayed. Carole was extremely confident around horses, and it showed in her superb horsemanship and choice of future career, but guys were a different story. And Ben wasn’t exactly the picture of a perfect boyfriend—he had a magic touch with horses, but his communication skills definitely didn’t carry over to his own species. Stevie wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him string more than four or five words together in a sentence. In fact, he seemed determined to avoid people as much as possible—people other than Carole, that was. In the weeks since Carole and Ben had revealed their feelings for each other, Stevie had to admit that Ben seemed to be trying hard to make things work and treat Carole right. And Stevie was trying just as hard to give Ben a chance to win her over.

  “It’s too bad Lisa and Scott couldn’t come with us, too,” Phil commented.

  Stevie frowned slightly, realizing that that was another change. For close to a year, Lisa had been dating Stevie’s twin brother, Alex. They had been so crazy in love for so long that Stevie had been completely taken by surprise when they’d decided to call it quits—and she’d been even more surprised when Lisa had almost immediately started seeing Scott Forester, Callie’s older brother.

  Thinking about Callie reminded Stevie of yet another unsettling recent change. She glanced out over the cross-country course. “You know, it’s still kind of weird that George is gone. It all happened so fast.”

  Phil shrugged. “To be honest, I’m glad he’s out of here,” he said bluntly, glancing at her over his horse’s withers. “He gave me the creeps. I just never said anything because you seemed to like him—you know, with the eventing coaching and all.”

  “Yeah.” Stevie bit her lip as she thought about that. George Wheeler, a shy, pudgy guy from her class at school who also kept his horse at Pine Hollow, had been the one to plant the idea of eventing in her head in the first place. Stevie hadn’t known at the time that he was also in the process of stalking Callie—calling her at all hours, peeking in her windows, even following her out into the woods while she was training with her new horse. The last straw had come just after New Year’s, when he had tracked her down in the deserted stable late one night and tried to kiss her. Callie had gone to the police and taken out a restraining order, and George’s family had moved to another state less than a week later. “I guess I was sort of distracted by the whole eventing thing,” Stevie said ruefully. “I was busy asking George questions and stuff, and I never quite got around to noticing the way he was acting around Callie.”

  She still felt guilty about that particular oversight. How long had Callie suffered in silence while Stevie cluelessly babbled at George about eventing? Stevie wished she had paid more attention, noticed what was going on. Maybe she could have helped somehow.

  Probably not, though, she admitted to herself, pausing to let Phil and Teddy go first as they made their way through a narrow pass between two large trees. George really had everyone fooled. He just didn’t seem like that kind of guy. Nobody ever could have guessed what he’d do, including me. Even Callie didn’t realize what he was capable of until it was almost too late.

  Still, every time she looked at George’s horse, Joyride, who was staying at Pine Hollow until Max found a buyer for her, Stevie wished she could go back and redo things. But it was too late now. The past was past, and they all just had to deal with it somehow and move on.

  Doing her best to shake off those thoughts, Stevie glanced over at Phil as she and Belle caught up once again. He was staring back at her, looking amused. “Still worrying about all the changes, worrywart?” he teased gently.

  Stevie smiled and shrugged. “Sort of,” she admitted, understanding why Phil found the whole conversation entertaining. She normally wasn’t the type to waste much time worrying about things she couldn’t change, and she really wasn’t sure what had come over her. “It’s funny,” she added. “Lately it seems like there’s hardly time to breathe between one thing happening and the next.” As Belle nosed her gently on the shoulder, she absently reached back to pat the mare. “It’s like we’re all racing through life flat out, with hardly any time to take in the scenery.”

  Phil cocked an eyebrow at her. “My, aren’t we philosophical today?” he commented. He glanced around at the peaceful afternoon scene around them. “I don’t know, though. I kind of like the pace we’ve got right here, right now.”

  Stevie grinned. “Okay, so maybe this particular moment isn’t one of the full-gallop ones,” she admitted, ducking under her mare’s neck to stand on her off side, beside Phil. She slipped her free hand into his. “It’s more like a nice, quiet trot through the woods on a spring day.”

  Phil laughed and squeezed her hand. “And what about, say, that party we went to last weekend at Corey Westbrook’s place?”

  “Hmmm.” Stevie pretended to ponder that deeply for a moment. “I’d say that was like a brisk, fun canter across the fields.”

  “Okay,” Phil said. “And how about that algebra test you were complaining about earlier?”

  “Ugh! Why did you have to remind me?” Stevie exclaimed. “Anytime I walk into that classroom it’s like time comes to a full halt. Sort of like when your horse collapses under you and dies.”

  Phil laughed and slipped his arm around her waist. “So it all balances out in the end, huh?”

  Stevie smiled at him, tipping her chin up for a kiss. “I guess it does.”

  Carole Hanson was careful to take small, measured steps as she led a gray pony toward a large, brightly colored inflatable beach ball lying in the middle of Pine Hollow’s outdoor schooling ring. The pony eyed the strange item suspiciously and tossed his head, setting his silky white mane dancing.

  “It’s okay, Jinx,” Carole murmured in her calmest tone. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

  Sensing that the pony was becoming more agitated, Carole let him stop. Jinx planted his feet and faced the object, his ears pricked forward in obvious alarm. He let out several worried snorts, his muscles tensed for flight. Carole was careful to stay well out of his path in case he bolted, but he stood his ground. After a few long moments she clucked softly and gave a gentle tug on the lead. Jinx took a step forward, still tense. When he was finally close enough, he stretched his neck out as far as it would go and sniffed at the strange object. After a long moment he took another step, then another. Hesitating again, he lowered his head slightly, then lifted one delicate foreleg and pawed at the ball with his hoof. Stepping back, he cocked his ears at the beach ball again, snorting softly. Carole waited, smiling as she watched. After another moment or two the pony visibly relaxed. Jinx stepped forward again and nudged at the ball with his muzzle, snorting and jumping as it rolled away. This time, however, Carole could tell that he wasn’t really scared. In fact he seemed rather pleased with himself as he carefully watched the ball bump to a stop against a nearby jump standard.

  Carole chuckled and gave the pony a pat on the neck. “You’re coming along, boy,” she said proudly. “See? I knew you weren’t totally hopeless.”

  Jinx blew out another snort, stared at the ball for a few more seconds, then turned away and examined the dusty winter-killed grass at the edge of the schooling ring. Deciding he deserved a treat, Carole allowed him to nibble for a moment or two. As she waited, her gaze wandered to the area beyond the ring. An insistent beeping sound floated acros
s the chilly air as a large dump truck backed up across what had once been a small side paddock. At the moment it was little more than a flat, bare area of packed dirt with a large pile of gravel at one end. A front-end loader was parked nearby. One day soon, Carole knew, that spot would become the entry area for the new stable row, which would add twelve stalls, an additional storage area, and a new, larger wash stall to Pine Hollow’s main building.

  I suppose it’s actually sort of lucky that all this construction is going on now, right when I’m trying to sack out Jinx, Carole thought, trying to look on the bright side. It gives us lots more strange sights and sounds to deal with—and he’s already used to some of them, like that annoying beeping. If he can handle all this commotion, soon he should be able to handle just about anything. She winced as the front-end loader started up with a wheezing roar. The pony flicked his ears in that direction but never lifted his head from his snack. Of course, it might drive me crazy in the meantime.…

  She did her best not to think about that, preferring to focus on her latest session with the gray pony. Jinx was a recent addition to Pine Hollow, and it was mostly due to Carole’s urging that he was there at all. He had been part of a package deal with a sensible, well-trained horse named Madison that had been offered for sale as an inexpensive school horse. While Max had liked Maddie a lot, he’d been understandably doubtful about taking on Jinx as well, especially at such a busy time for Pine Hollow—the cute but poorly trained Welsh pony was twelve or thirteen years old and still couldn’t be considered safely trained. He nipped whenever his girth was tightened, spooked at the air, evaded every move a rider tried to make, and was generally unreliable.

  But we’re changing all that, Carole thought with satisfaction as her gaze returned to the pony. With a little work and a lot of patience, I know I can turn him around. He’s got a good heart—that shows in his eyes. All he needs is someone to teach him how to behave. To change his perspective a little, so he realizes he can trust people to guide him down the right path. He’s just lucky Max trusts me. Otherwise, who knows what might have happened to him? Most people probably wouldn’t be willing to bother with an overaged, undertrained, ornery pony, no matter how cute and flashy he is.

  “Come on, sweetie,” she said aloud. “It’s getting late. Let’s put you back in your stall.”

  Jinx lifted his head and turned to follow her—proper leading had been the first lesson on Carole’s agenda after the pony’s arrival—and soon they were strolling across the stable yard toward the wide double doors of the main building. There were a couple of piles of cement blocks piled just outside, along with some rolls of cable, a precarious stack of plastic pipes, and other items. Carole kept an eye on Jinx as she led him past. He had seen the construction supplies on their way out an hour earlier, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t decide to spook at them all over again now.

  Carole was so attentive to the pony as she stepped into the stable building that it took her a second or two to notice that someone was watching her from the other end of the entryway. It wasn’t until Jinx’s ears flicked toward the other human that she finally glanced up. “Oh!” she said, blushing as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. “Hi, Ben.”

  Even after several weeks she still wasn’t quite used to the idea that she and Ben Marlow were a couple. They had worked together for so long, and it wasn’t until just a month or two earlier that Carole had allowed herself to admit—even to herself—that they could possibly be more than friends. It still seemed like a wonderful dream sometimes, especially when she thought back to the night several weeks earlier when Ben had admitted that he had feelings for her, too. Ever since then they had been slowly finding their way toward being a real couple. It had been awkward sometimes and not always easy. But they were doing it—together. And that was the most wonderful feeling Carole could imagine.

  “Hi.” Ben stepped forward and leaned over, planting a small kiss in the vicinity of her lips. Then he stepped back, looking slightly uncertain, as if he wanted to say something more and couldn’t quite find the words. Carole didn’t mind—she knew that words weren’t his strong suit. His one true talent was communicating with horses. He seemed to speak their language more easily than his own. Carole felt that way herself sometimes, so she understood. “How’d he do?” Ben added at last. He nodded toward the pony at Carole’s shoulder.

  Carole glanced back at Jinx. “Not bad,” she said, giving the pony a pat. “Some workers drove by in a big bulldozer-type thing while we were out working in the ring, and he barely batted an eye. I really think he’s coming around. He’s starting to realize that it’s not going to get him anywhere to spook every two seconds.”

  “Good.” Ben fell into step beside Carole as she continued towing Jinx toward the stable aisle.

  After depositing the pony in his stall with a fresh flake of hay, Carole and Ben gave him a good-bye pat and then headed off, taking the long way around the U-shaped stable aisle. Lessons were over for the day, and only a few horses that had taken some intermediate riders on a late trail ride were still out. Just about every stall was occupied.

  This is nice, Carole thought as she patted one of her favorite stable ponies, a little silvery gray gelding named Nickel. Across the aisle, another pony named Peso snorted jealously, eager for an equal share of attention. Just me and Ben and the horses. How could life possibly get any better than this?

  The two of them moved on, taking their time, stopping to give a pat or a scratch on the neck to each horse they encountered, from a boarder’s frisky quarter horse named Pinky to amiable old Patch, one of the stable’s oldest and most reliable school horses. Even Geronimo, Pine Hollow’s only stallion, stepped to the front of his double-sized corner stall to say hello. Finally Carole and Ben reached the end of the aisle. A boarder’s horse named Memphis was on one side, her nose shoved into the fresh pile of hay in one corner of the stall. Across the way a gray roan gelding stretched his head toward them, nickering eagerly. “Hey there, Checkers,” Carole said, giving the friendly horse a fond pat. “Looks like Max finally followed through on his threat to move you over here to the end, huh?”

  Ben’s dark eyes gleamed in amusement. “This morning was the last straw,” he said. “When Maureen got here, Checkers was standing on Max’s favorite baseball cap. In the office doorway.”

  Carole burst out laughing, imagining the scene. Checkers shifted his weight and shook his head, looking slightly disgruntled. The mischievous quarter horse gelding had been one of Max’s best school horses for the past couple of years. In that time, he had also earned a reputation as an escape artist, managing to find a way to free himself from confinement in increasingly creative ways. His most recent stall was decorated with so many bolts and extra latches that it looked like a prison cell. Any young rider who made the mistake of leaving Checkers’s door open with only the stall guard attached while she dashed down the aisle to the tack room or the student locker room generally ended up paying for it by spending half her scheduled lesson chasing him down in the acres of pasture surrounding the stable. Max had been muttering for months that he should just move the mischievous gelding closer to the main entrance. That would make it easier for the staff and students to spot him when he made his escapes, and perhaps for them to head him off before he got out of the building. Besides that, Checkers occasionally had the urge to let the other horses out, too; and being on the end of the aisle, with one of the stable’s few empty stalls beside him, no less, might cut down on that habit, too.

  “It’s for your own good, bad boy,” she told Checkers, giving him one last pat. Then she turned to Ben as they headed into the entryway. “It’s probably not just the baseball cap thing that made Max move Checkers now. It’s a really bad time for him to be out gallivanting around the place,” she commented, thinking back to her earlier observations. “With all this construction, there are way too many ways for horses to get hurt. Not that they ever need much of an excuse for that,” she added with a wry grin.


  Ben smiled in agreement. “We still on for dinner?” he asked.

  “Absolutely,” Carole said, a little thrill going through her as she remembered their evening plans. She could hardly believe that she and Ben were going to be double-dating with Stevie and Phil. For as long as she’d thought to notice guys at all, she’d been unable to avoid noticing that her two best friends always seemed to have one hanging around. Stevie and Phil had been a couple since meeting at riding camp back in junior high. And Lisa had had a long string of adoring, though usually temporary, boyfriends in the years before Alex.

  And now I guess I’m in the club, Carole thought with a secret smile as she glanced at Ben out of the corner of her eye. That thought made her happy. But not as happy as the idea that her friends might finally get to know Ben through her, to see him as she had always seen him—as a wonderful, caring person who knew and understood more about horses than many riders three times his age. So far Carole had avoided pushing Ben on her friends too much, knowing that her friends still weren’t sure whether her new relationship with him was a good idea. But the other day during a trail ride, out of the blue, Stevie had suggested that they all get together that weekend. Lisa had begged off, but even so, Carole was thrilled. Her friends seemed to finally be accepting the idea that she and Ben just might work out after all. And you know what? she thought giddily. I think they may be right about that.

  “We still have over an hour till we have to leave,” she told Ben. “So what else needs doing around here?”

  “Someone’s coming to see Joyride in a few minutes, but I already groomed her for that.” Ben checked his watch. “I suppose we could set up a stall for the new boarder.”

  “New boarder?” Carole blinked, wondering if she’d heard him right. “What new boarder?”

  “Oh.” Ben looked slightly sheepish. “Guess I forgot to mention it. That twelve-year-old from Windward Farm—Casey? Katie? Something like that. She’s moving her horse in today.”