The Trail Home

by Bonnie Bryant

  She was glad when she spotted a familiar figure walking slowly up Pine Hollow’s long driveway. “Look, there’s Stevie,” she said, interrupting her own string of words.

  Ben turned to look. “She doesn’t look too good.”

  Carole winced. She had to admit that Ben was right. Even from a distance, she could see the glum expression on her friend’s face. No, Stevie didn’t look good, and she hadn’t for some time now.

  “It’s the accident,” she said, though she knew Ben understood that as well as anyone. “She’s still dealing with it, even after two months. It’s not an easy thing to get over, you know.”

  Carole realized she sounded a bit defensive, but Ben didn’t seem to notice. He just nodded. “These things take time.”

  It had been a trying period since the car accident that had changed all their lives. Stevie had been driving, and even though there was nothing she could have done to prevent it, that didn’t stop her from feeling guilty about it. A horse had died because of the accident, and a girl—a fellow rider their age named Callie Forester—had suffered partial paralysis, which she was still working to overcome. That was a lot for anyone to handle, Carole knew, and she was doing her best to be as strong and supportive as she knew how. But she was secretly starting to wonder if that would be enough. If Stevie wasn’t over it by now, would she ever be?

  Carole hated seeing her normally upbeat friend look so depressed all the time. She just didn’t know how to help her snap out of it. Things had only gotten worse since Phil Marsten, Stevie’s longtime boyfriend, had left on a two-week family vacation. With Phil gone, Lisa still far away in California, and Carole busy with her job at Pine Hollow, Stevie had been spending a lot of time alone.

  “Besides,” Ben said after a moment of silence, “it can’t be easy for her to put up with that guy’s dirty looks all the time.”

  Carole didn’t have to ask who Ben meant by “that guy.” She knew that Ben and Callie’s brother, Scott, got along about as well as oil and water. And Scott and Stevie were still uncomfortable around each other. She nodded.

  “It’s not easy for her to watch Callie struggling to get better and learn to walk again, either,” she said quietly. “Or to walk past Fez’s empty stall.”

  She stopped there, since Stevie was almost within hearing range. But her mind didn’t stop. It was searching, as it often did those days, for a way to make things better. It was true that Scott Forester, friendly and talkative with everybody else, still fell silent whenever Stevie entered a room. But Callie didn’t hold any grudge against Stevie, and neither did Callie’s parents. The police had cleared Stevie of any wrongdoing in the accident. Mr. and Mrs. Lake had even bought a new car to replace the one that had been totaled. What else could any of them do? Carole wished Lisa were around to discuss it with her. She was so smart and logical that she would be able to find a solution, if anyone could.

  Stevie had reached the ring. “Hi,” she said dully. “What are you guys doing?”

  Carole gave her a quick rundown of the exercise. “We’re almost finished here, though,” she said, an idea popping into her mind. “And I’m in the mood for a nice long trail ride as soon as my shift is over. What do you say?” Actually, she had been planning to longe her horse, Starlight, in the ring after she finished working. But that could wait for another day. Stevie needed a lot more help with her mood than Starlight did with his lateral flexing.

  Ben looked up. He was still walking Firefly slowly around the ring. Carole hadn’t thought he was paying attention to her brief conversation with Stevie, but now it seemed he had heard every word. “It’s almost noon,” he said, looking Carole in the eye. “Why don’t you knock off early and head out now? I’ll cover for you.”

  Carole was surprised. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was only eleven-thirty. Still, she knew Ben well enough to know that he wouldn’t have made the offer if he didn’t mean it. “Thanks, Ben.”

  Stevie looked surprised, too. “Yeah, thanks, Ben.” She glanced at Carole, and for a moment a hint of the old Stevie smile flickered across her face. “A trail ride would be nice.” Then she sighed. “It’s just too bad Lisa isn’t here to go with us.”

  “I know,” Carole agreed. The two girls waved good-bye to Ben and wandered toward the stable entrance. “None of our trail rides have seemed complete without her, have they?”

  “Nothing seems complete without her. And talking on the phone once in a while doesn’t help much. It just reminds us how far away she is.”

  “I wonder if she misses us as much as we miss her.”

  “I doubt it. She’s probably too busy rubbing shoulders with famous TV stars to think about little old Willow Creek very often.”

  Carole didn’t think that was true. But she had to admit that Lisa’s job—in fact, her whole life in Southern California—sounded extremely glamorous. “I wonder what working on that TV show is really like,” she mused, trying to imagine it. “Being behind the scenes, working with big stars like Summer Kirke and that hunk, what’s his name …”

  “Jeremiah Jamison,” Stevie supplied. “And don’t forget Skye.”

  Carole grinned and glanced over at her friend. “You know, I sort of had forgotten about him. He’s such an old friend that he hardly seems like a celebrity, you know? I mean, he’s gorgeous and everything, but I hardly even notice that anymore because we know him so well.”

  “I wonder if Lisa notices,” Stevie muttered.

  Carole gulped. Suddenly she realized that discussing all the hunks Lisa was working with that summer might not be the safest topic of conversation to have with Lisa’s boyfriend’s twin sister. “Well, anyway,” she said awkwardly, “what I was getting at is that Lisa must be having an interesting time at her job.”

  Stevie still looked worried. “I just hope she remembers we’re all here waiting for her to come home.”

  This time Carole knew Stevie wasn’t thinking of herself or of Carole. She was worried that Lisa would forget she was in love with Alex.

  But that would never happen, Carole assured herself. No matter how many gorgeous Hollywood stars she meets. “Come on,” she said. “Last one to the tack room’s a rotten egg.”

  But Stevie’s attention was caught by something new as the two girls rounded the corner. “Ugh,” she murmured. “Speaking of rotten eggs, look who’s here.”

  A tall, slender girl with smooth dark hair was coming down the hall toward them, trailed by a good-looking, broad-shouldered young man with wavy blond hair and a rather vacant expression.

  “Uh-oh,” Carole whispered, recognizing the girl immediately even though she hadn’t seen her all summer. “Veronica. What’s that snob doing here?”

  Veronica diAngelo had once spent a lot of time at Pine Hollow, but she had never even come close to being friends with Carole, Stevie, and Lisa. They had all been in the same riding class, and although Veronica had never been as serious about riding as the others, she had been pretty good at it. Her family was very wealthy, and she had always had top-of-the-line equipment, clothes, and horses. Once she had entered high school, however, Veronica’s interest in riding had faded quickly in inverse proportion to her rising interest in the opposite sex. She had sold the last of her accomplished purebred show horses more than two years earlier and dropped out of riding class six months before that. These days she only showed up at the stable occasionally, usually to dazzle a new boyfriend with her still-impressive riding skills.

  “Hello, girls,” Veronica said breezily. “Long time no see. Do you know Trent?” She gestured at the hunk behind her.

  Too bad Veronica couldn’t stay away longer, Carole thought automatically. But she returned the greeting politely.

  “How are you, Stevie?” Veronica continued smoothly.

  “Fine.” Stevie’s reply was curt. She and Veronica no longer fought like cats and dogs as they once had, but that didn’t mean they liked each other. At Fenton Hall, the private school both attended, the two girls generally tried to a
void each other as much as possible. That wasn’t difficult—they didn’t exactly travel in the same circles.

  “Good.” Veronica’s expertly made-up eyes shifted from Stevie’s face to her faded, wrinkled blue jeans and then to her manure-stained T-shirt. In the old days, Carole knew, Veronica wouldn’t have been able to resist a snide comment on Stevie’s wardrobe. But now Veronica just wrinkled her nose slightly, then fingered the collar of the stylish linen shirt she was wearing. “I see you’re still spending all your time hanging around this place, just like when we were kids.”

  Carole winced. She should have known this encounter couldn’t go completely smoothly. There was too much water under the bridge for that. Cold, rancid, polluted water.

  Stevie shrugged. “Hey, it beats the mall.” Only the slightest narrowing of her eyes revealed her annoyance. “I guess the only drawback is there aren’t enough guys here to find a new one to date every week.” She paused and smiled sweetly. “But then, I’ve never been into that like some people are.”

  Noticing the perplexed look on Trent’s square-jawed face, Carole swallowed a nervous giggle. She and Lisa attended Willow Creek’s public high school, so they didn’t often get to observe Veronica’s love life firsthand. But Stevie had kept them well informed, describing how Veronica had a different guy on her arm for every party or dance. Lisa’s theory was that this was a result of Veronica’s snobby, shallow personality combined with her short attention span.

  A brief look of irritation crossed Veronica’s pretty face, but she didn’t reply. Carole was relieved—in Stevie’s current state, the last thing she needed was a revival of her feud with Veronica.

  “What are you doing here, Veronica?” Carole put in quickly, trying to head off any further exchange between the other two girls.

  “Trent and I are here for a ride, and —Oh, hello. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  Carole turned to see who had caused Veronica to interrupt herself and saw Ben coming down the aisle, Firefly’s equipment slung over one arm. She frowned, not liking the appraising look in Veronica’s eyes as she looked at Ben. “This is Ben Marlow,” she told Veronica curtly. “He works for Max.” She figured that would end any interest Veronica had in Ben, since her tastes ran more to guys with platinum cards and trust funds than any mere mortal who had to work for a living.

  “Hello there, Ben Marlow,” Veronica cooed. “I’m Veronica diAngelo. I used to ride here all the time.” She gave Ben a long, lingering look that made Carole blush—though to all appearances, Ben didn’t even notice it. “Looks like maybe I stopped too soon.”

  “Anyway, Veronica,” Carole put in quickly, her face burning, “if you were looking for Max, I think he’s up at the house right now, but Red is probably—”

  “Whatever.” Veronica didn’t let her finish. “I was just looking for someone to tack up a couple of horses for Trent and me. You’re working here now, right, Carole?”

  Carole frowned. One of Max’s firmest rules was that riders had to do their own work, from tacking up to mucking out stalls. Veronica knew that as well as Carole did. Then again, Veronica hadn’t put much stock in that particular rule even when she had ridden there regularly.

  Stevie wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation. She was doing her best to fight down her sudden, burning urge to shout insults at Veronica. The urge was so strong it was almost scary.

  What’s my problem? Stevie demanded of herself, her fists clenched at her sides as Veronica smoothly ordered Carole and Ben to tack up horses for her and her blockhead boyfriend. I mean, since when do I care what Veronica diAngeb thinks of the way I dress? It’s not like she hasn’t said a million worse things to me over the years.

  For some reason, though, this whole conversation was bugging her a lot more than it should. Stevie wanted to leap at Veronica and punch her right in her snooty upturned nose.

  I guess Mom and Dad are right when they say I’m a little on edge these days, Stevie thought ruefully. Suddenly her angry feelings evaporated, so fast that she was left feeling limp and empty. This wasn’t about Veronica at all. Veronica didn’t matter. It was all about the accident. Stevie’s whole life these days was about that one horrible moment when she had lost control of that stupid car.

  Trying to distract herself from her own thoughts, which seemed to run in a circle—a circle that always brought her back to the same place—Stevie returned her attention to the conversation going on around her.

  “Fine.” Carole was glaring at Veronica, her face tight and annoyed. “Ben and I will drop everything and throw a saddle and bridle on a couple of horses for you. Even though we have about a million other things to do.”

  “Good.” Veronica linked her arm through Trent’s and smiled up at him. “I think Trent would love to ride that big gelding, Congo. And I’m dying to try that pretty gray mare I saw in the paddock when I drove by last week. I don’t know her name, but she’s a dapple gray with a big white star.”

  Carole looked more annoyed than ever at that, and Stevie knew why. The dapple gray was Firefly, of course—it figured that Veronica would demand to ride the newest, most expensive horse in the stable. Congo, a large, steady gelding, was actually a good choice for Trent, who didn’t look like a very experienced rider. Still, anyone but Veronica would have allowed the stable staff to recommend a horse for him rather than choosing one herself.

  “I don’t know about that. Both those horses have already been exercised today.” Carole’s face was taking on a stubborn look that Stevie recognized—one that meant she was getting ready to fight to the death for a horse’s safety or well-being.

  Looks like I’m not the only one who’s overreacting to Veronica today, Stevie thought wryly. She knew it wouldn’t hurt Firefly or Congo to spend a leisurely hour on the trail.

  Ben obviously agreed with her. “It’ll be okay, Carole,” he said calmly. “We didn’t work Firefly very hard just now.”

  “But they could just as easily ride Barq and Patch, who haven’t been worked today at all,” Carole said, still looking mulish.

  “Patch?” Veronica’s nose wrinkled again. “You mean that poky old thing is actually still alive? He was already about a hundred when I used to ride here. Don’t try to pawn off your senior citizens on us. We want to have some fun out there.”

  Looking downright irate, Carole opened her mouth to respond. But Ben beat her to it. “No problem,” he said. “Carole and I will have Firefly and Congo ready in no time.” He headed for the tack room without even glancing back to see if Carole was following.

  She was. After shooting an angry glare in Veronica’s direction and a perplexed glance at Ben, she hurried after the stable hand.

  “Thanks so much,” Veronica called to them cheerily. “We’ll meet you out front.”

  Stevie shook her head in amazement. Veronica clearly hadn’t changed much. She still loved getting her own way. Stevie wondered if that might help to explain the short duration of her romantic relationships. Maybe the guys she went out with got fed up with being ordered around and ducked out after a date or two. Probably not, she decided. If Veronica ever wanted to get serious with a guy, she’d probably just order him to buy her the Hope Diamond as an engagement ring. Her mouth twisted slightly. And he’d probably do it.

  “So what have you been up to lately, Stevie?” Veronica asked, her voice just a little too casual. “Having an interesting summer?”

  Stevie started. She had almost forgotten that the two of them were alone now. Well, except for Trent, and he didn’t really count. She glanced at the tall, handsome guy beside Veronica. His mouth had fallen open just a little, and his eyes looked dull and unfocused as he stood waiting for something to happen.

  Stevie turned her attention back to Veronica. The look in her eyes was one that Stevie hadn’t seen directed her way in a long time, but she recognized it just the same. It was that certain cool, slightly predatory expression that Veronica got when she was in the mood for trouble. Stevie was instantly on guard.


  “Sure,” she said lightly, trying to keep the tension she felt out of her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was let Veronica diAngelo, of all people, see how thin-skinned and wounded she was feeling these days. That would be like begging for torture and humiliation. She turned and started walking down the aisle toward the entry-way, hoping Veronica would take the hint and leave her alone. “Nothing special.”

  “Oh, really?” Veronica wandered along beside her. She glanced over at Trent, who was dutifully keeping pace, then back at Stevie. “I heard you got your driver’s license.”

  Stevie gritted her teeth, wishing she had gone to help Carole and Ben with the horses. “Look, it’s been nice talking to you and everything. But I have to—”

  “Oh!” Trent’s dull blue eyes suddenly lit up with interest. “I get it, Ronnie. This is that girl you were talking about, right? The one who caused that accident.”

  “I didn’t cause—” Stevie cut herself short, willing herself to remain calm.

  Veronica was giving her a crocodile smile, gazing at her through slightly lowered eyelids. “That’s right,” she told Trent lightly. “It was all over the news, remember? The police said Stevie wasn’t responsible for killing that horse and paralyzing that girl. Who was she again, Stevie? A congressman’s daughter? Or was it a senator’s?”

  Stevie paused just inside the stable door. She could hear the blood pounding in her veins and feel her hands starting to shake. Was it always going to be this way? Weren’t people ever going to get tired of talking about the accident? And wasn’t she ever going to be able to discuss it without this horrible rush of emotions?

  Sometimes Stevie thought it would be easier to run away to someplace new, where nobody had ever heard of her or Callie Forester or any of it. That way she wouldn’t have to deal with the constant reminders, the thoughts and memories and nightmares.… It was bad enough when well-meaning people asked polite questions about it. But to be taunted—however subtly—by not-so-well-meaning people like Veronica was almost unbearable. Still, she knew what she had to do. She had to be the mature one, the one to take the high road. She couldn’t let her feelings show, no matter what.