Callie winced, realizing she’d put off this conversation far too long. George had a serious crush on her, and the past Saturday night he had made that quite obvious. He’d followed her around the party at the Lakes’ house all night, and she had finally ended up dancing with him and then spending almost an hour talking to him—mostly about horses, since they were both serious competitive riders, George in three-day eventing and Callie in endurance riding. When they had finally parted ways, he’d asked her out for the next Saturday. She had put him off without giving him an answer, telling him she had to think about it.
What am I supposed to do about this? she wondered, feeling uncharacteristically helpless. She pictured George walking down the hall at school—his wispy blond hair sticking up at odd angles, his round face pink and earnest, his clothes always seeming not to hang quite right on his short, pudgy body … Then she imagined him the way she’d seen him the last time they’d been at Pine Hollow together. When he climbed into a saddle, George seemed to transform into a different person entirely. He was one of the most talented riders Callie had ever met, which was probably why he was asked to be one of the five riders representing the stable at the Colesford Horse Show in a couple of weeks.
It was hard to reconcile the image of George the spectacular rider with George the sweet but dorky guy. But why should either of those images make the slightest bit of difference to how I feel about him? Callie wondered, a bit annoyed with herself. Since when do I care so much about images?
She gripped the phone tighter, thinking back to the party, when she had found George’s attention irritating and sweet by turns. True, he was the polar opposite of the kind of guys she usually liked. And yes, he had followed her around the party like a pathetic puppy dog. But once she’d started dancing with him, she hadn’t been able to ignore how considerate he was. Thanks to a serious automobile accident over the summer, Callie had spent the past few months learning to walk again, and she still relied on crutches to get around. But dancing with George, she’d almost been able to forget that—he had carefully supported her as they’d danced so that her weakened right leg hardly slowed her down at all.
Realizing that she’d been silent for several long seconds, she cleared her throat, still not certain what to say. “Um, Saturday …,” she said. “Actually, Scott just came in and told me some news about Saturday night—we’re invited to the Willow Creek homecoming dance.”
“What?” George sounded confused. “You and Scott are going to the homecoming dance?”
Callie quickly guessed that George hadn’t heard about Veronica’s weeklong homecoming campaign. That figured. He was the kind of peripheral guy whom Veronica and her clique ignored as instinctively as they breathed. “Not just me and Scott,” she explained patiently. “All of us. Fenton Hall in general.” She quickly filled him in on the details.
“Oh,” George said when she finished. “Um, well, we could go to that together if you want. Unless you already have other plans, I mean,” he added quickly.
Callie bit her lip, still trying to decide what to do. At that moment, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scott strolling past on his way to the stairs.
I can tell my brother what to do about his love life, but I can’t figure out how to deal with my own, she thought. Still, maybe this dance is a perfect opportunity for me to decide whether I could ever have any romantic interest in George. We won’t have to be alone much, we both like dancing … and if sparks are ever going to fly, it’s bound to happen at a romantic event like that, right?
She nodded, feeling satisfied with her own logic. “I don’t have any other plans,” she told George. “I’d love to go to the dance with you.”
“Really?” George’s voice was so eager that Callie winced. “That’s great! Just great! Um, I mean, thanks, Callie. I’m sure we’ll have fun.”
“Me too,” Callie lied, already wondering if she’d made a huge mistake. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow at school, okay?”
She hung up, feeling apprehensive. George had sounded thrilled at the idea of going to the dance with her—so thrilled that it made her perversely certain that there could never be a future for the two of them.
What’s my problem? she wondered fiercely. It’s a good thing when a guy likes you, remember? I just need to chill and see what happens. And if I decide things aren’t going to work out for us … well, I’ll just have to deal with that when the time comes.
THREE
“Juliet!” Carole shouted. “No running in the stable, remember? Max will have a fit if he catches you.”
Juliet Phillips didn’t seem to hear her. She shrieked loudly and raced out of the indoor ring and down the aisle as a new seventh-grade rider named Brian Chalmers chased her with a handful of whipped cream he’d scooped up from somewhere. Carole sighed and rubbed her head, wondering if she had ever been as giddy and silly as the intermediate riders were acting that day.
“Relax, Carole,” Denise McCaskill said kindly as she joined Carole near the punch bowl, depositing a plate full of cookies on the long refreshment table Max had set up for the intermediate riding class’s Halloween party. “It’s a party, remember? You’re going to give yourself an ulcer.”
Carole smiled gratefully at Denise, Pine Hollow’s petite, friendly, twenty-something daytime stable manager. “I know. I’m just afraid they’re going to get too rowdy and scare the horses. Especially Prancer.”
Denise brushed back her dark brown bangs, then absently patted the thick braid at the nape of her neck as she turned to survey the scene. Carole followed her gaze, noting that Sarah Anne Porter had borrowed several shiny metal stirrups from the tack room to use as bracelets for her genie outfit and that Alexandra Foster and Justine Harrington were enthusiastically chasing one of the stable cats that had made the unfortunate decision to come around begging for treats.
“Okay, I’ll admit they’re a little rowdy right now,” Denise said calmly, raising her voice as Rachel Hart let out a shriek of laughter from nearby. “But I’m sure they’ll settle down when Max gets back from putting the girls to bed.” She smiled at Carole, making the tanned skin around her dark eyes crinkle slightly. “They may be kind of giddy, but not so much that they’ll forget they’re scared of making him mad.”
Carole smiled weakly in agreement, but then she sighed. “Still, these parties always seemed to go a lot more smoothly when Mrs. Reg was here,” she said, thinking of Max’s widowed mother, a kind, calm, capable woman who had helped manage the stable before retiring to Florida a couple of months earlier. “I miss her.”
“Me too,” Denise agreed. Before she could say anything more, her longtime boyfriend, Red O’Malley, Pine Hollow’s head stable hand, waved frantically at her from across the ring, where May Grover had just tripped and fallen into the apple-dunking tub. “Uh-oh,” Denise said. “Looks like Red could use some help. I’d better get over there.”
“Okay.” Watching her go, Carole decided to take the opportunity to slip away and check on Prancer. Despite Denise’s assurances, Carole was concerned that all the noise might be frightening the pregnant mare. Prancer was carrying twins, which automatically made her pregnancy a high-risk one. Just the week before, Max had been worried that she might have lost one of the foals when he couldn’t find its heartbeat. In the end the vet had pronounced the mare and both her foals alive and healthy, but Carole knew that could change at any moment, which was why she and Denise and Red and Ben and Max had all been keeping a close watch on Prancer in between their other chores.
She dodged around Alexandra and Justine and made her way out of the indoor ring a few steps behind the terrified stable cat. Ignoring the younger girls as they called for her to stop the cat, Carole rounded the corner into the aisle where Prancer was housed.
A few minutes later, when she was satisfied that Prancer was resting comfortably in her stall, seemingly unfazed by the commotion just down the hall, Carole headed reluctantly back toward the party, taking the long way around the U-shaped
stable to make sure none of the other horses were upset by the noise.
“Hey, Topside. How’s it going, Windsor?” she murmured, patting the curious heads that poked out of the stalls as she passed. “Don’t worry, Barq. The party will be over soon. I hope.”
She paused as she reached the next stall, where a very familiar bay face with a lopsided star was watching her approach.
“Hi, boy,” she greeted Starlight softly. A weird twinge of discomfort nudged at her as if she’d had a disturbing dream about him that she couldn’t quite remember. But it wasn’t a nightmare that was pulling at her, she realized a half second later. It was Stevie’s comment earlier that day, the one about getting rid of Starlight.…
Before she could think about that, a loud, piercing shriek erupted from just down the aisle. Startled, Carole dropped her hand from her horse’s neck and turned to see what was going on. She saw that Alexandra and Justine had a different stable cat cornered a few yards down the hall, and they were trying to catch the poor animal. The cat, a big calico, had just jumped onto the narrow top edge of one of the stalls’ half doors. Several of the horses stabled nearby had obviously been frightened by the sudden noise—Carole could hear at least one set of hooves connecting with the stable wall, and even Starlight had let out a surprised snort and rolled his eyes.
Her heart in her throat, Carole hurried toward the two younger girls, ignoring Belle, who nickered for her attention as she hurried past her stall. “Hey!” she said urgently, not wanting to shout and scare the horses even more. She grabbed Justine’s arm tightly and glared at Alexandra. “What’s the matter with you two?”
Justine’s face took on the annoyed, stubborn expression Carole had grown to know and dread, but Alexandra looked sheepish. “Sorry, Carole,” she whined. “We just wanted to play with the kitties, but they’re too shy.”
“They’re not shy,” Carole snapped, exasperated. “They just don’t like being grabbed and shrieked at. Can you blame them?” She glanced over and saw that the calico cat had made an escape, her white-tipped tail just disappearing up the wooden ladder to the hayloft. When she looked back at the two girls, Carole spotted someone hurrying toward them from the other end of the hall. She gulped, recognizing Ben Marlow’s dark hair and broad shoulders—and his thunderous glare.
“What’s going on?” he demanded when he reached them.
Now even Justine looked contrite and slightly nervous. Ben Marlow rarely showed much emotion, at least not when he was dealing with people rather than horses, whose company he clearly preferred. But he was angry now. If there was anyone who could scare the two young offenders more than Max, it was Ben. Carole knew that most of the intermediate riders whispered about the brooding young stable hand behind his back, and she’d once heard Sarah Anne Porter speculate that he would make a perfect crazy ax murderer in a horror movie—good-looking but mysterious and a little scary.
“Nothing,” Justine muttered sullenly, peeking up at Ben quickly, then staring down at her feet. “No problem.”
Ben looked at Carole questioningly. She shrugged, giving the younger girls a stern glance. “I think it’s all under control,” she told Ben. “These two were just heading back to the party. Right?”
“Uh-huh,” Alexandra squeaked, scurrying down the hall without risking so much as a glance at Ben. Justine followed without a word.
Carole heaved a sigh, glad that the incident was over and even more relieved that it hadn’t taken place anywhere near Prancer’s stall—especially since the mare was terrified of cats. A quick check was enough to tell her that the horses nearby had already lost interest and settled down in their stalls.
She turned her attention back to Ben, who was staring after the intermediate riders, still looking angry. “Twerps,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t be allowed in a stable.”
Carole shrugged. While she agreed that Justine and Alexandra’s behavior had been irresponsible, her annoyance with them was already fading now that it was over and all the horses were safe. She couldn’t quite agree that banning them from Pine Hollow was much of a solution. They were young, and they had simply gotten excited and forgotten where they were. It happened. She could remember more than one occasion when she and her friends—especially Stevie, who had been just as irrepressible and exuberant as any of these intermediate riders—had lost their heads and broken one of Max’s many stable rules.
“Whatever,” she told Ben neutrally, not wanting to start a debate about the younger girls’ behavior. Especially not now, when she felt herself blushing, as she still seemed to do whenever she set eyes on him.
Ben hardly seemed to hear her. His thick brows were set in a deep scowl, and his dark eyes were still flashing with anger. “Twerps,” he muttered grimly as he turned and peered into the nearest stall. “Better see if everyone’s okay.”
Carole bit her lip and did as he suggested, glancing into the stall across the aisle. A horse named Congo stared placidly back at her, chewing steadily on a mouthful of hay. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Ben is crankier than usual today, she thought as she moved on to the next stall. A bunch of hyper Pony Clubbers isn’t exactly his cup of tea. She patted Comanche, who had come to the front of the stall to greet her. Still, it would be nice if he weren’t always so difficult …
She winced as she thought back to the party the previous weekend. She still didn’t know why Ben had decided to come. A crowded high-school party wasn’t any more his scene than a Pony Club bash. But one thing was certain in Carole’s mind—he hadn’t come because he was interested in getting to know her better. He’d made that abundantly clear.
What was I thinking, asking him to dance like that? she wondered, feeling a hot blush creeping over her cheeks even at the memory. It’s crazy. Ben and I are hardly even friends, let alone … Anyway, I can’t believe I was such an idiot. It’s not like I ever even thought of him that way. Why would I?
Risking a glance at Ben, she saw that he was looking straight back at her. His frown had faded and he looked thoughtful. As soon as he saw her looking, he jumped and turned quickly back to the horse beside him. “Things look okay,” he said gruffly over his shoulder.
“Uh-huh.” Carole swallowed hard, hoping he hadn’t noticed her hot cheeks in the relatively dim light of the stable aisle. Every time she looked at him now, she remembered how he’d turned her down when she’d asked him to dance, then stood and abruptly left the party. But he hadn’t mentioned the incident since, and she certainly wasn’t about to bring it up. If he could ignore what had happened, so could she.
I just wish … The thought trailed off, and Carole wasn’t even sure what she’d been about to wish for. Maybe just that Ben hadn’t had such an easy time ignoring what she’d said at the party. I guess it would be kind of nice if he ever noticed I was alive except when he’s annoyed with me, she thought. It would be nice to have someone to talk to—a real friend who could understand what I’m all about …
Carole was surprised at her thoughts. She automatically stepped over to the next stall, but she hardly saw the horse dozing in the far corner as she leaned on the half door. Behind her, she heard Ben murmuring softly to the horse he was checking, though she couldn’t quite make out his words. He seemed to have his own language that he used only with horses, one much more fluent than his English, which he often seemed to struggle with as if it were a foreign tongue that he’d never quite mastered.
It’s not as if Ben exactly invites the idea of his being some kind of—of confidant, she told herself. It’s not even like he’s much of a friend most of the time. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. Anyway, what do I need a new friend for? My own friends are wonderful. I’m lucky to have them.
She smiled as she thought about Stevie and Lisa. How many years had they been friends now? How many scrapes and adventures and problems had they worked through together? Carole couldn’t even begin to count. All she knew was that they would always be best friends, no matter what happened. If she needed further proof o
f that, all she had to do was remember the way Lisa had forgiven her for accidentally telling Alex about what Skye had said.
Still, it sometimes seems like they’re both so busy with other things these days, she thought wistfully. They both have their boyfriends. Lisa has been working like crazy on her college applications since summer. Stevie is all wrapped up in that school election, and she’s really getting involved in the student government at Fenton Hall.… Sometimes I’m not sure they even remember how much we all used to love spending all our spare time here. She glanced around the stable, breathing in the familiar scents, listening to the comforting sounds. I’m not sure they really understand how important this all still is to me.
Carole knew that her friends were aware of her dedication to horses. They knew she planned to spend her life working with horses—she had been planning that for as long as she’d known them. When they’d all been younger, the three of them had spent much of their time together discussing horses and riding. But these days, Stevie and Lisa had other interests, other concerns, and Carole occasionally suspected that they didn’t quite get her continuing preoccupation with her favorite topic.
Ben’s the only other person near my age who never wants to talk about anything else, Carole realized, sneaking another peek at the stable hand. He was holding Belle’s head in both hands, his face close to hers as he spoke softly to her. Carole couldn’t help smiling slightly at the sight. Or maybe I should say he’s the only other person who never wants to talk to anything else.
At the thought, a giggle escaped before she could stop it. Ben turned toward her, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and suspicion.
Carole quickly arranged her face into a bland expression, not wanting him to think she’d been laughing at him. “Everyone over here seems fine,” she said matter-of-factly. “I don’t think those two big-mouths scared anyone too badly.”
Course of Action Page 3