The Trail Home

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Like I was saying,” she said at last, through clenched teeth, “I’d better go see if Carole needs any help.”

  Veronica shrugged. “Whatever. Just remember, if you need anyone to talk to about this, I’m here for you, Stevie.”

  The offer was so ridiculous—and so clearly hypocritical—that Stevie almost laughed. That helped for a second, making it easier to stick to her vow not to let Veronica see that any of this was bothering her.

  But at that moment, she heard voices coming toward them from the direction of the front doors. Familiar voices.

  With a sinking feeling, Stevie turned and saw Callie and Scott Forester entering the stable. Callie was leaning heavily on her brother’s arm. He was carrying her crutches in his free hand and moving slowly to let her keep up. Callie’s face was twisted with effort as she struggled to move her limp right leg with every step.

  Both of them spotted Stevie right away. Callie gave her a quick wave and a smile, but Scott stared at her coldly for a moment before turning deliberately away, his face set in stone.

  That was the last straw. It was all too much for one person to take. The torture was never going to end. Things were never going to go back to normal. What was the point of pretending? Stevie’s will crumbled, the despair rose up and overwhelmed her, and to her own intense humiliation she suddenly burst into tears. “I’ve got to go,” she sobbed, feeling like the world’s biggest loser as she shoved past an astonished Veronica. “I have to go home now.”

  THREE

  “Just wait until Lisa hears Veronica was hanging around again,” Carole whispered to her horse, Starlight. Starlight snorted as if in reply and nudged her side with his big, soft nose, clearly looking for treats. Carole smiled and pulled out a piece of apple. As she fed it to him, she felt a little of the tension in her body melt away.

  “I knew you’d help calm me down, boy,” she murmured, giving the bay gelding a hug.

  If there was one constant in Carole’s life, it was that she could always count on horses to help get her through any problem, great or small. It was riding that had allowed her to pick up the pieces and go on after her mother had died when she was eleven years old. And now it was a horse that was calming her down after her irritating encounter with the queen of irritating encounters, Veronica diAngelo.

  It’s all just part of the job, Carole reminded herself, still stroking Starlight’s glossy coat. Working with horses doesn’t guarantee I won’t have to work with annoying people sometimes.

  She laughed. That last bit of advice sounded exactly like something logical, coolheaded Lisa might say.

  “I bet Lisa doesn’t have to deal with jerks like Veronica at her job,” Carole told Starlight. “She gets to hang out with movie stars all day long and take care of totally gorgeous horses on top of it.”

  As she said it, she felt a twinge of envy. But she shook it off. She wasn’t that kind of person, was she? Just because one of her best friends was spending her summer vacation hanging out in Hollywood, while Carole was in Virginia, mucking out stalls and saddling horses for lazy, snobby—

  “Never mind,” she interrupted her own self-pitying thoughts sharply. Starlight’s ears swiveled toward her attentively, and she gave him one last pat before letting herself out of his stall. “I guess Stevie isn’t the only one around here who needs a nice, long, relaxing trail ride. I’ll be back as soon as I find her, boy.”

  Carole hurried down the aisle toward Belle’s stall, shaking her head to clear it. Her envious thoughts had already fled. She was genuinely happy that Lisa had the opportunity to enjoy such an interesting summer. She only wished she could have had it in Willow Creek with her and Stevie. Still, Lisa would be coming home soon—the week after next. Then everything could go back to normal.

  Stevie wasn’t with Belle, so Carole headed for the tack room, hoping that her friend was already getting ready for the trail ride. She didn’t find her in the square, leather-scented room, but she did find Ben. He was seated on a trunk, bent over a grungy bridle strap.

  “Hi,” she said. “Did Veronica and her little friend get off okay?” She had tacked up Congo as Ben prepared Firefly but hadn’t hung around to watch Veronica and Trent mount. She had been too annoyed.

  Ben nodded. For a moment he didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. But just as Carole was about to ask if he’d seen Stevie, he spoke. “You didn’t tell me that girl knew how to ride. I watched for a minute or two because I thought Firefly might be too much for her. But she’s really good.”

  Carole could hardly believe it. Was that actually admiration in Ben’s voice?

  “Sure,” she replied, her own voice dripping with sarcasm. “She ought to be good. She had the best riding instruction money could buy.” She took a deep breath. “But I didn’t come here to talk about her. I’m looking for Stevie. Have you seen her lately?”

  “Actually, Veronica said something about—”

  Carole cut him off before he could finish. “Enough about Veronica already, okay?” she said sharply. “She’s taken up enough of my time today. If you don’t know where Stevie is, I’d better keep looking.” Ignoring the surprised look on Ben’s face, she stomped off to check Belle’s stall once more.

  Carole was patting Stevie’s lively mare on the nose and wondering where to look next when Denise McCaskill came rushing up to her. “Carole! I’m so glad you haven’t left yet!” the young woman exclaimed, looking relieved.

  “Hi, Denise.” Carole glanced at her watch, realizing that it was well after noon. Her shift was officially over—especially now that she knew Denise had arrived. Denise was finishing the last few credits she needed for her bachelor’s degree in equine studies. She spent her mornings in class, hurrying from the school to Pine Hollow for her job as afternoon stable manager. Soon she would be ready to take on a full-time job at the stable. Carole was happy about that, but she knew at least one person who was even happier. Red O’Malley, the head stable hand at Pine Hollow, was Denise’s longtime boyfriend. “What’s up?” Carole asked, noting the look of consternation on Denise’s normally calm face.

  “Checkers let himself out of the paddock again.”

  “Again?” Carole sighed. The mischievous quarter horse was a real escape artist. A horse-proof bolt kept him in his stall, but he still managed to steal out of Pine Hollow’s fields and paddocks on a regular basis. “What did he do this time?”

  “What didn’t he do?” Denise replied grimly. “By the time we noticed he was out—by the way, don’t ask me how he opened that new gate latch, since the guy who sold it to Max swore it was horseproof—he had had quite a spree. He knocked down most of those new baby trees Deborah planted behind the paddock. He let himself into the grain shed and sampled some alfalfa pellets—after he tore apart the sack, of course. We’re also pretty sure he’s the one who opened the gate to the side paddock and let that pair of yearlings into the big field. And to top it off, when we finally tracked him down, he was busy rolling in the manure pit.”

  “Ick.” Carole wrinkled her nose. Even with all her experience, some of the things horses did still amazed her. It’s incredible when you think about it, she thought. Each one really does have its own unique personality, and sometimes …

  Suddenly she noticed the pleading, expectant look Denise was giving her. “Oh. I guess you probably need some help, right?”

  “Sorry,” Denise said. “I know your shift is over. But this is going to be a big job, and Max wants all hands on deck.”

  “No problem. I’m right behind you.” Carole sighed. First Veronica, and now this. At this rate, starting school in a few weeks was going to feel like a vacation. “So much for that trail ride,” she muttered as she followed Denise down the aisle.

  Stevie wanted nothing more than to lock herself in her room and cry for a week.

  “I shouldn’t be this freaked out,” she muttered as she cut across a neighbor’s yard. She figured if she said it out loud, maybe she would start to believe it. “The stupid accident
happened two months ago.”

  But saying it didn’t help any more than thinking it had. Stevie just couldn’t seem to put the accident behind her. She had to admit things were at least a little better than they had been at first—there were days now when she managed to forget what had happened for whole hours at a time. But she also still had moments, like this one, when her emotions were so intense she could hardly stand it. At those moments it was as if the accident had happened yesterday, even five minutes before. She wondered if she would ever really get over it. How could she, when everywhere she turned there was another reminder? Every time she saw Scott or Callie, every time she turned the key in the ignition, every time it rained …

  Stevie rubbed her forehead wearily and blinked back a few stray tears as she turned up her family’s driveway, heading for the front door. Why did this have to happen to her? It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this. She was a good driver, a good person …

  The phone was ringing as she let herself into the front hall. From upstairs, she heard her mother’s voice calling faintly for someone to pick up.

  “What timing,” Stevie murmured, hurrying into the living room to grab the phone off the small table beside the sofa.

  As her hand touched the receiver, a sudden irrational feeling swept over her. It was Lisa on the other end of the line, she was positive. Lisa was calling because she knew Stevie needed her. Hearing her friend’s voice was just about the only thing Stevie could imagine that might cheer her up right then. Hearing her voice, and hearing that Lisa had booked a nonrefundable ticket back to the East Coast, that she couldn’t wait to get back home to Willow Creek where she belonged …

  “Hello?” she said eagerly into the receiver, waiting for the familiar voice to greet her in return.

  But the voice that came wasn’t familiar. It was a woman’s voice, brisk and businesslike. “Hello there. I’m calling for Ms. Stephanie Lake, please.”

  “This is Stevie Lake,” Stevie replied automatically, feeling a little confused that such a strong premonition had turned out to be false.

  “Hello, Steph—er, Stevie.” The woman’s voice suddenly sounded much warmer. “This is Elsie Summers from WCTV. We met a couple of months ago after you—after Congressman Forester’s daughter was injured in that car crash.”

  “I remember you,” Stevie said numbly. She sank down onto the couch, her legs weakening as a feeling of déjà vu overtook her. Elsie Summers was a reporter for the local television station. She had done a whole series of reports on Stevie’s accident, asking nosy question after nosy question. She had called Stevie’s house several times a day. She had tracked down the driver’s ed teacher from Stevie’s school to interview him about what kind of student Stevie had been. She had even brought a camera crew to Pine Hollow, though Max had refused to let them onto the property. For a while, Stevie had learned to expect to encounter the pushy reporter every time she turned around. The woman had even started turning up regularly in Stevie’s nightmares. Stevie’s parents had been on the verge of taking legal action against the TV station when a local farmer had dug up three human skeletons in his cornfield. That had distracted Elsie Summers enough to make her forget about Stevie. Stevie had thought that this particular part of her ordeal, at least, was over. So what did Elsie Summers want from her now?

  “I hope I’m not calling at a bad time,” the reporter went on smoothly. “But I realized that it’s been a couple of months since the accident, and I thought our viewers would want to know how things are going for you and Ms. Forester. I understand she’s undergoing physical therapy. That’s why I want to do a follow-up piece. It will make a terrific human interest story, don’t you think?”

  Stevie gritted her teeth. She couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t people ever get tired of talking about one lousy car accident? Wasn’t there anything of greater importance happening in the world? Wouldn’t Stevie ever have any peace?

  “No, I don’t think it would,” she said evenly, her hand clenching the phone receiver in a death grip. “I definitely don’t.”

  “Oh, but I can assure you, people are very interested,” Elsie Summers insisted. “Why, I’ve received several letters and calls this week alone about your story. People are very concerned.”

  That was all Stevie could take. She could feel her face turning lobster red, but she didn’t care. “Then why don’t you tell them to mind their own business?” she shouted. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you tell yourself that, too?” She slammed the phone down so hard that the plastic casing cracked. Then she buried her face in her hands and started to sob.

  “Stevie! What was all that shouting?” Mrs. Lake appeared in the living room doorway a moment later. When she saw that Stevie was crying, she hurried over, sat down beside her, and hugged her, cradling her to her shoulder. “What’s the matter, Stevie? Did something happen? Who was that on the phone?”

  “It was that reporter from Channel Fourteen,” Stevie replied thickly. Her hands were shaking, even wrapped in her mother’s firm grip, and she couldn’t stop them. “The one that did all those awful stories about me after the accident.”

  Mrs. Lake’s expression grew grim. “You mean Elsie Summers?” She shook her head. “I knew we should have done more about her intrusiveness.” Her face softened as she looked at her daughter. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry we couldn’t do more to stop all that mess after the accident. I thought it was over.”

  Stevie and her mother had always been close. As the only two females in their large household, they shared a special bond. In the past, Stevie had been able to tell her mother just about anything. Now, raising her tear-streaked face to Mrs. Lake’s sympathetic one, Stevie recognized for the first time that she had been holding back these past two months. She’d shared some of her pain with her parents, but not all of it. Not even close. She supposed it was because she’d felt it shouldn’t be such a big deal. After all, Callie was the one who’d been hurt. Stevie had walked away with just a few minor injuries that had long since healed.

  But after what had just happened, Stevie realized she needed help. Her body might have healed, but the hurt inside her soul wasn’t getting better by itself. Maybe her mother could help, maybe not. The least Stevie could do was tell her the truth.

  She let all the emotions of the past two months pour out in a rush. She told her mother about the nightmares that still came a couple of times a week. About the cold looks she got every time she saw Scott Forester. About the overwhelming feelings of guilt and sadness and worry that practically paralyzed her when she watched Callie struggle to walk again. Mrs. Lake sat quietly through it all, listening and stroking Stevie’s hair with one hand while holding both her hands tightly with the other.

  “… so I guess there’s something really wrong with me,” Stevie finished at last, feeling as wrung out as a well-worn rub rag. “I thought time was supposed to heal all wounds or something like that. But a lot of time has passed, and things aren’t getting much better, and I feel like I don’t have any control over anything, like helping Callie or getting Scott to forgive me.”

  “You can’t control what other people think or feel, sweetie,” Mrs. Lake said softly. “Only yourself.”

  Stevie shrugged. “I guess I can’t do that, either.” She loosened one of her hands from her mother’s grip and swiped at her eyes. “I know the accident wasn’t my fault. It could have happened to anyone, and I did what I had to do, and it could have been worse, and all that stuff. I thought I’d made peace with it. And if it were just up to me, I think maybe I could. I mean, Callie forgave me ages ago, and she’s really the only one that should matter, right? But it’s hard to remember that when I feel like there are so many other people watching and judging.…” She could feel her lower lip trembling. She bit down on it, hard, to make it stop. She didn’t want to start bawling again.

  Her mother watched her closely, looking concerned. “I had no idea this was still so hard on you. I wish you’d said something s
ooner.” She shook her head. “But never mind. All we can do is start from today and see what we can do.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” Stevie muttered with a sniffle.

  “Well, we can try.” Mrs. Lake paused, thinking. “Maybe it would help if you could get away from all the things that are reminding you of the accident. You know, have a little fun before school starts. How about a family vacation?”

  “A family vacation?” Stevie repeated dubiously. “You mean like going to Disney World or King’s Dominion or someplace?” Normally she loved amusement parks. But somehow she didn’t think screaming her head off on a roller coaster or two was going to change the way she felt. Of course, hanging around here hasn’t been much of a picnic, either, she reminded herself glumly.

  Mrs. Lake shrugged. “I was thinking more along the lines of a week camping in the mountains. But actually, now that I think about it, your father has that big case coming up next week, and he’s afraid it’s going to drag out all month—”

  The sound of the back door slamming interrupted her. A moment later Alex loped into the living room. He stopped short when he saw his mother and sister huddled on the couch. “Hi. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Stevie said quickly, moving a few inches away from her mother. She didn’t want any of her brothers to know how hard she was taking this. It wasn’t as if they would tease her the way they had when they were all younger. But she didn’t want their pity, either.

  Mrs. Lake seemed to sense how she felt. “We were just talking about how we haven’t taken a family trip in a long time,” she told Alex. “I thought it would be nice if we could all do something special before school starts. I don’t think your father can get away for long, but what if we all went away over the weekend? Maybe the beach …”