Conformation Faults

by Bonnie Bryant

  Carole shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do it then,” she said. Thursdays were one of the days the intermediate riding class met right after school, and this week Max had asked Carole to help him teach the class. “My job …”

  Ms. Shepard frowned but nodded. “Well, all right,” she said. “Then I think it will have to be tomorrow. That won’t give you much time to study, but—”

  “That’s okay,” Carole said quickly. She didn’t want the teacher to change her mind. Besides, the most important thing was just to get the makeup test over with so that she could stop worrying about it. And there weren’t any early-afternoon classes at Pine Hollow on Wednesdays, so it wouldn’t matter if she was a little late. She would just have to stay up late reading those chapters tonight, that was all. “Tomorrow would be great. I’ll be ready.”

  That afternoon, as soon as the final bell rang, Lisa made a beeline for her car. She was supposed to be at a yearbook meeting, but she was skipping it. She had something more important to do.

  The day before, she had managed to put aside her worries about Prancer long enough to finish her English paper. But afterward, at Callie’s party, they had all come rushing back, stronger than ever. That was when she’d realized how ridiculous this situation was. Her fears had been growing steadily for the past few weeks. At first they had been nothing more than a niggling concern, consisting of the kinds of far-out what-if questions her friends were always teasing her about. For that reason, Lisa hadn’t allowed herself to pay much attention to them.

  But lately those tiny fears had blown up into something much larger until they were consuming her waking thoughts. At this point there was no denying that something serious was happening with Prancer, and Lisa knew that if she didn’t find out what it was soon, it really would drive her crazy. She was a little surprised that Max hadn’t realized that himself—he knew how much Lisa had always cared for Prancer—but that was neither here nor there. Max had a lot on his mind, a lot of responsibilities: thirty-odd horses, a staff of six or eight people, dozens of students, and a wife and two young daughters. Besides that, Lisa hadn’t been spending much time at the stable lately, so it was no wonder if she had slipped his mind.

  But now it was time—past time—to remind him that she was still around, still needed to know the truth about Prancer. She was determined not to leave the stable that day until she found out everything she wanted to know.

  The drive to Pine Hollow didn’t take long. Soon Lisa was pulling into the gravel driveway. As she brought her car to a stop in the parking area, she glanced at the main schooling ring in front of the stable. Red O’Malley, the head stable hand, was trotting around it on Topside, the horse he and Max often rode during lessons.

  Good, Lisa thought. That must mean Red is teaching today’s intermediate class, so Max should have plenty of time to talk to me.

  She gave Red a quick wave on her way past. Once inside, she went straight to the stable office, but it was empty. She checked the tack room, which was packed with chattering intermediate students, and the indoor ring, which was empty. Then she began walking around the U-shaped stable row, methodically checking stalls.

  She still hadn’t found Max by the time she reached Prancer’s stall. As she paused to look inside, the sweet bay mare hurried forward, nickering as if pleased to see her.

  “Hi there, girl,” Lisa said softly, rubbing the mare’s velvety dark nose. For a moment she forgot all about confronting Max. It felt so good to see Prancer, even knowing she couldn’t ride her, even worrying about what could be wrong with her—just enjoying her unique, familiar, comforting presence.

  Lisa couldn’t resist opening the door and slipping into the stall with the beautiful Thoroughbred. She didn’t have any grooming tools with her, but suddenly she remembered the small plastic comb in her jeans pocket. Pulling it out, she set to work gently untangling Prancer’s silky black mane, simply enjoying the feeling of doing something useful for the horse she loved.

  “How could anything be wrong with you, Prancer?” she murmured. For the umpteenth time, she ran her eyes over the mare, from the tips of her alert ears to the polished dark hooves at the end of her long, slender legs. She couldn’t see anything that would indicate a health problem. Prancer stood squarely on all four legs, her coat was smooth and shiny, her mane and tail were long and full. There was no sign of discomfort in her liquid black eyes, and she hadn’t lost any weight as far as Lisa could tell. “It can’t be anything terrible if you look this good,” Lisa whispered, pausing just long enough to give the horse a hug around the neck. “You have to be fine.”

  Prancer nodded wisely as Lisa released her from the hug, as if agreeing. Still, Lisa didn’t feel particularly reassured by her own words. It was all well and good to tell herself that Prancer must be okay because she looked okay. But she had learned the hard way how the world worked. A few years ago, she would have insisted that her parents’ marriage was healthy because it looked that way. She hadn’t seen the breakup coming at all, which had made it all the more difficult to handle when it came. Lisa liked to be prepared. She didn’t enjoy surprises the way Stevie and Alex did. That was why she had to know exactly what was going on with Prancer.

  Now that she was here in Prancer’s stall, though, her sense of urgency had faded slightly. Lisa wasn’t a procrastinator by nature. She would find out the truth today; she had decided that. But first she would spend a few final moments in blissful ignorance, putting her fears and theories out of her mind and simply grooming her favorite horse as if nothing in the world had changed.

  Lisa wasn’t sure how many minutes passed as she picked at Prancer’s mane, working more slowly than usual because the weak plastic teeth of her comb weren’t made for the relatively coarse hair of a horse. After a while she became vaguely aware that much of the commotion out in the aisles had died down, which meant the intermediate riding lesson had started. But she didn’t pay much attention to that. She was focused on Prancer. In all the rush and tumult of the new school year, Lisa had almost forgotten what it meant to simply spend time with the mare like this. To sink into these wordless, timeless periods of just being together, surrounded by the wonderful, comforting sounds and smells of the stable, recalling why she had loved horses and riding so much in the first place. She hadn’t even realized how much she had missed it until this very moment. Now all she wanted to do was enjoy it and appreciate it as long as she could …

  “Lisa.” The sudden intrusion of a human voice startled her. She glanced at the stall door and saw Max standing outside.

  Suddenly everything came back to her in a rush. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. It was time to find out the truth.

  She walked to the door. When she got there, she saw that Max wasn’t alone. Clinging to his hand was his four-year-old daughter, Maxi, her wide blue eyes a perfect mirror of his own.

  “Oh. Hi there, Maxi.” Lisa smiled at the little girl.

  “Hi, Lisa!” Maxi chirped brightly. Maxi—short for Maxine—was an outgoing child who loved to talk to anybody. While her quieter, shyer little sister, Jean, invariably known as Minnie, sometimes seemed frightened by the sheer size of the horses, Maxi loved visiting the stable as often as she could. She had always loved riding in the saddle in front of her father, and recently she had started learning to ride in earnest, looking very tiny even perched aboard Krona, Pine Hollow’s newest and smallest pony.

  Lisa noticed that Max wore a worried expression as he glanced from her to Prancer and back again. She took a deep breath. She would have preferred not to have this confrontation in front of Maxi, but it just couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Listen, Max,” she said, letting herself out of the stall so that she could face him directly. “I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk.”

  Max glanced at his watch, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Can it wait, Lisa? I have a lot to—”

  “This can’t wait,” Lisa interrupted. “I need to know what’s going on with Pra
ncer. You know I care about her, and if anything’s seriously wrong …”

  “I told you before, you shouldn’t worry.” Max shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable. He stared off at a spot somewhere just above Lisa’s left shoulder. “As you know, my only concern is for the best conditions for the horses in my care, and I have to use my own judgment to provide that. Now, in Prancer’s case, I’ve decided that the best thing for her at this point in time is to remove her from the regular riding rotation for a while, until such a time that I feel—”

  Lisa opened her mouth to interrupt again, feeling annoyed at Max’s long-winded, roundabout response. But Maxi beat her to it.

  “But, Daddy!” the little girl piped up, tugging at Max’s arm. “You said everyone could ride Prancer again. Just not till after she has her babies.”

  EIGHT

  Lisa’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  Max’s face had gone white. “Maxi, honey,” he said, kneeling down beside his daughter. “Why don’t you go down to my office and wait for me there? You can look at that big horse book you like with all the pictures, as long as you promise to turn the pages very carefully. I’ll be there in a minute. Okay?”

  Maxi nodded agreeably and skipped off down the aisle. Lisa waited until she was gone before she exploded. “You mean all this time you’ve been acting so mysterious because Prancer is pregnant?”

  “Shhh,” Max hissed, looking stern. “Keep your voice down, please, Lisa. I don’t want the whole stable to hear this.” His nervousness had fled and he was his usual self again, brisk and in control. “Now, before you fly off the handle, let me explain.”

  Lisa crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Her head was spinning and she wasn’t sure what to feel: Relief that Prancer wasn’t sick? Rage at being kept in the dark so long, so unnecessarily? Curiosity about what Max had to say? Joy that Prancer would be having a foal?

  Max didn’t keep her in suspense long. “The reason we haven’t told anyone about this pregnancy so far is because it’s a little unusual,” he said. “You see, it seems that Prancer is carrying twins.”

  That stunned Lisa almost as much as the original news had. “Twins?” she repeated. “But I always thought—”

  Max was already nodding. “Twins are very rare in horses—probably only a percentage or two of all pregnancies. And such pregnancies very rarely result in two live foals. Often, as you know, one of the fetuses is naturally aborted. Otherwise, if you catch it early, it’s usually possible to remove one of the fetuses manually. But that’s really only a practical option for the first two or three weeks, and we didn’t find out she was carrying twins until a good four weeks in. That’s why we’ve been waiting and watching, doing what we can to give one or both foals a chance—or at least keep Prancer herself safe.”

  Lisa already knew most of what Max was telling her. She had studied equine reproduction in Pony Club, and she had observed plenty of pregnancies and births firsthand. But she was still having trouble taking it all in. Because this time, the information wasn’t merely academic. It had to do with the health and well-being of Prancer—her Prancer.

  She tried to will her mind to work, to process it all and figure out what else she needed to know. “You said you found out about the twins four weeks in,” she said. “How far along is she now? What does Judy say about her condition? Who else knows about this? What special care will Prancer need from now on? Is there any danger to her own health at this point, or just to the foals? How risky do things look right now?”

  Max held up a hand as if to fend off her torrent of questions, smiling slightly. “We bred her—to Geronimo, by the way—in late July,” he said. “So that puts us at … let’s see … somewhere around ten weeks. Only Red, Judy Barker, and I knew about the breeding when it happened, and we’ve only told a couple of other people so far since then, strictly on a need-to-know basis. Until we found out about the twins, I let people keep riding her—you rode her a couple of times after you got back, didn’t you? But once we knew, I decided not to let anyone ride her.”

  Lisa nodded numbly. Late July. That explained why she hadn’t had a clue. She had been in California then. If only she had been around, if only she had guessed, she could have saved herself so much needless worry, so much heartache.… She wasn’t sure whether to be angry at Max for keeping this from her, or at herself for not making him tell her sooner.

  Sensing her distress, Max put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry you were worried, Lisa,” he said gently. “I’m sure you can see that I had my reasons for keeping quiet about this, but, well … Actually, I’d started thinking lately that it was time you knew. I just wasn’t sure how to tell you, and I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to sit down with Carole and see how she thought we should—”

  “Carole?” That broke through Lisa’s numbness. She blinked, trying to make sense of what Max had just said. “You mean Carole was one of the people you told? She knew about this?”

  Max cleared his throat. “She works here, Lisa,” he reminded her gently. “Of course she needed to know.”

  Carole had known the truth.

  That one fact expanded to fill Lisa’s mind, pushing aside even her remaining unanswered questions about Prancer. It was just too unbelievable. Her logical mind struggled to reject it. “Carole knew about this, and she just sat back and let me worry?” Lisa’s voice rose in pitch again, in concert with her rising anger. Now she knew she had been right not to direct that anger—born of fear, of worry, of countless sleepless hours over the past days and weeks—toward Max or even toward herself. Now she saw who was really to blame. The one person who had known the truth all along and had also known how worried she was. The person Lisa had trusted, the person who could have reassured her weeks ago but had decided not to do so. The best friend who had let Lisa stew, had listened to her worry and wonder, had watched her agonize over this—and said nothing. Carole. It couldn’t be true, but somehow, horribly, it was.

  All these thoughts flung themselves through Lisa’s mind in seconds. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter but still filled with anguish. “I can’t believe she would do this to me!”

  She clenched her fists at her sides, her whole body feeling cold and foreign to her. Lisa didn’t lose her temper very often, but on the rare occasions when her emotions spun out of control, she often felt as though she were standing at the center of a hurricane—in a cool, still, eerily calm eye surrounded by a deadly, howling storm just waiting to consume her.

  Max looked worried. “Lisa, it’s not Carole’s fault,” he began. “I asked her not to tell anyone. I made her promise …”

  But Lisa didn’t hear the rest of what he had to say. The storm was taking over, making her blind and deaf to everything else. She had already whirled around and was racing down the aisle.

  Carole ran a rub rag briskly over Starlight’s coat. “Almost done, boy,” she murmured, giving the horse an absentminded pat on the neck. She had just brought him in from the back paddock. She’d called Red between classes to ask him to turn him out there for a while. That way she wouldn’t have to spend any time exercising him that day. Even so, she knew she would have to hurry if she wanted to get everything done and still get home in time to put in a solid night of studying for her makeup history test. That test … Carole still couldn’t believe she had messed up so badly. She also couldn’t believe she had to waste more hours studying American history. As if school didn’t already take up too much of her time …

  Luckily, Red was taking care of the intermediate riders, who would be finishing their lesson before long, and Ben had volunteered to take Firefly, a young mare he and Carole were training, out on the trail in lieu of a more structured session. That meant all Carole had to do was give Starlight a quick grooming, look in on Prancer, and take care of the rest of her regular stable chores before moving on to her final and most anticipated task—Samson.

  Her mind had already wandered ahead to the black hor
se’s workout. Today she planned to work on the flat, concentrating on Samson’s suppleness. He seemed to get bigger and more muscular with each day they worked together, and she wanted to make sure that his steadily increasing strength wouldn’t compromise his ability to move well in all directions, to take the sharp turns that were sometimes required in show jumping. Therefore, she had planned out a course of fairly challenging serpentines that the two of them could perform in the indoor ring.

  I’m sure Samson won’t have any trouble with the serpentines, though, Carole thought as she mechanically continued Starlight’s grooming. He did brilliantly when I worked with him on the same thing after he first arrived at Pine Hollow. Maybe I ought to throw in a little extra practice on his half-halts, just to keep things interesting, or maybe—

  “Carole!” a harsh, angry voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Startled, she glanced up and saw Lisa standing outside the stall. “Oh, hi,” Carole greeted her, already scanning her mind. She hadn’t promised to go on a trail ride with her friends today, had she? She hoped not—she had enough to do as it was. And she wasn’t in the mood for more of their teasing about her forgetfulness. Not after what had happened in history class. “What’s up?”

  “We need to talk,” Lisa said coldly. “Right now!”

  Carole frowned, put off by her imperious tone. Just what I need after the day I had at school, she thought petulantly. Straight-A Lisa stopping by to start bossing me around. “Can it wait?” she asked bluntly. “I’m kind of busy here.”

  “Too bad.” Lisa’s voice was edged with steel. “You and I have a big problem right now. Or rather, I have a big problem, and it’s you.”

  Carole was starting to get really annoyed—she hated it when Lisa began talking like a stern, disapproving teacher—but then Lisa’s words sank in. Confused, Carole turned to face her. For the first time she noticed the enraged expression on Lisa’s face. “Um, what?” she said uncertainly, caught between irritation and concern. “What are you talking about? I—”