Phantom Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  POSSESSED BY A PHANTOM

  “It all started long, long ago. Don’t ask me when, because I don’t know. But it was long before my grandparents were born, or their grandparents before them. It’s the story of the phantom horse. Now, I call it a horse, but it isn’t really a horse—it’s an evil spirit that takes over the body of a horse. It always chooses a horse that belongs to someone who loves it and trusts it. Once it has possessed the horse, the phantom is out for blood. To this day it’s roaming the earth looking for its next victim …”

  RL 5, 009–012

  PHANTOM HORSE

  A Bantam Skylark Book/October 1996

  Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.

  “The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hitter. The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books.

  “USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of The United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 1996 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-82558-2

  Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada.

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

  v3.1

  I would like to express my special thanks

  to Catherine Hapka for her help

  in the writing of this book.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  About the Author

  “BOO!” SHOUTED STEVIE LAKE.

  Her boyfriend, Phil Marsten, turned around and grinned. “Eeek,” he said calmly.

  Stevie stuck out her tongue and plunked down next to him. He was sitting on a hay bale in the indoor ring at Pine Hollow Stables, where Stevie took riding lessons. It was Halloween, and the owner of Pine Hollow was throwing a party for his young riders. Max Regnery was a strict stable owner and an even stricter riding instructor, but he also believed in having a good time, and that was what this party was all about. Strings of festive red-orange lights were strung around the ceiling, cutouts of bats and black cats decorated the walls, and a large, well-stocked refreshment table stood at one end of the ring. Best of all, the students were allowed to invite friends, so Stevie had invited Phil, who lived in another town and rode at a different stable.

  “Where did Carole and Lisa go?” Stevie asked as she handed Phil the paper cup of punch she had brought him. Carole Hanson and Lisa Atwood, who also rode at Pine Hollow, were Stevie’s two best friends.

  Phil shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. He took Stevie’s hand and gazed into her eyes. “Who cares? Wouldn’t you rather be alone with me anyway?”

  Stevie looked back at him suspiciously. “All right, what do you three have planned? Ghosts and goblins? Shrieks in the night? Or just a good old-fashioned—” She whirled around just in time to catch Carole and Lisa sneaking up behind her.

  “Boo!” all three girls yelled at once.

  Carole and Lisa burst out laughing. “We should know better than to try to beat her at her own game,” Lisa said.

  “It was worth a try,” Carole replied, sitting down cross-legged on the floor at Stevie’s feet. “It wouldn’t be Halloween without a few tricks to go with the treats.” She took a big bite out of the pumpkin-shaped cookie she was holding.

  “True,” Stevie said. “Although it will be a cold day in July before you guys can out-trick me.”

  Carole and Lisa grinned. Stevie’s mischievous nature was one of the things her friends loved best about her. The three girls were such good friends that they had started The Saddle Club. The group had only two rules: Members had to be horse-crazy, and they had to be willing to help one another whenever necessary. Stevie, Carole, and Lisa were the three main members of The Saddle Club, but there were also several out-of-town members, including Phil and his best friend, A.J.

  Phil nudged Stevie with his elbow. “Hey, who’s that guy?” he asked, staring at someone across the room.

  Stevie followed Phil’s gaze to a tall, thin young man dressed in black jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket. His brown hair was cropped almost as short as the stubble that dotted his jaw, and the overhead lights caught a flash of silver at his ear.

  “That’s Troy,” Stevie said.

  At Phil’s confused look, Lisa explained. “His name’s Troy Lasker. He’s a college student who’s taking the semester off to earn some money. Max just took him on as a temporary groom.”

  “That guy’s a groom?” Phil asked in surprise.

  “He doesn’t exactly look like your typical groom, does he?” said Stevie. “If you get a chance, check out his ear. He’s got three earrings in it, and one of them is shaped like a skull and crossbones.”

  “He may not look like a groom, but he is one,” Carole reminded them. “Max wouldn’t have hired him if he wasn’t qualified. And he really seems to know what he’s doing around the horses.” That was such a Carole-like comment that her friends couldn’t help but smile. Of the three horse-crazy members of The Saddle Club, Carole was the horse-craziest. She already knew she wanted to spend her life working with horses, although she hadn’t decided yet what her exact career would be. Trainer, rider, stable manager, veterinarian—they all sounded exciting to her. Luckily she still had plenty of time to make up her mind.

  As Troy strolled across the ring, a raggedy-looking brown-and-white mutt trotted along behind him. Stevie pointed the dog out to Phil. “That’s Princess,” she said. “She worships Troy. She follows him everywhere he goes.”

  “When she’s not sleeping, that is,” Lisa said. “I almost tripped over her the other day in the tack room. She’d decided to take a nap right inside the door.”

  “Hey, don’t look now,” Carole said, “but we’re not the only ones paying attention to Troy. Veronica must have decided she likes older men this week.”

  The others looked where Carole was pointing and saw Veronica diAngelo hurrying toward Troy. Veronica was their least favorite person at Pine Hollow. She was a good rider and she owned a gorgeous horse named Danny, but those were her only positive qualities as far as The Saddle Club could see. Veronica was a snobby, spoiled rich girl who always wore expensive clothes. Her family lived in a huge house with tennis courts and a swimming pool, and she loved to brag about all the servants they had. She often seemed to think that Max’s head stable hand, Red O’Malley, was on her personal payroll, and she usually made him take care of Danny for her.

  “Disgusting,” Stevie declared, watching as Veronica walked over to Troy, smiling and batting her eyelashes. “Now that all the boys at Pine Hollow—not to mention all the boys at school—
have realized what a rat she is, she has to go searching for some fresh blood.”

  “Never mind,” Lisa said. “It doesn’t look like Troy is interested.” As The Saddle Club watched, Troy gave Veronica a polite little smile, then turned and walked away without a backward glance. Princess slunk after him. Veronica watched Troy go with a pout on her face, then whirled and stomped off in the other direction.

  Carole giggled. “It looks like Troy smelled a rat.”

  “I guess that makes him pretty normal after all,” Phil said. “Even if he does look a little unusual.”

  “Speaking of looks, I just realized who Troy reminds me of,” Lisa said. “It’s this character in the book I’m reading.”

  “You mean that mystery novel you’ve been carrying around for the past three days?” Stevie asked.

  Lisa nodded. “Murder at Teatime by Ernestine Collier. It’s set in England, and it’s really good. There’s a character in it who looks just like Troy—I mean, that’s how he’s described. And he’s really quiet and keeps to himself, just like Troy. The heroine, Camille, thinks he may be the murderer.”

  “Is he?” Stevie asked.

  Lisa shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I’m only a little over halfway through. I haven’t had much time to read this week, but I’m hoping to finish it later tonight. I can’t wait—I stopped at a really exciting part.”

  “Well, Troy may dress oddly, but I think it’s pretty safe to say he’s probably not a murderer,” Carole said. She leaned back against the hay bale and looked around at the people enjoying themselves. “This is a great party,” she added.

  “If you think this is a great party, just wait until you see what my parents have planned for next week,” Phil said with a smile. “You’re all still coming, aren’t you?”

  “Of course we are. We can’t wait,” Stevie answered for all of them. “None of us has ever been to a bar mitzvah before.” Phil was Jewish. He had recently turned thirteen, and that meant it was time for the religious ceremony in which he would officially become an adult member of his synagogue and of the Jewish community.

  “What kind of party will it be?” Carole asked curiously.

  “Well, it won’t be exactly like this one, although there will be lots to eat and drink and plenty of people having fun,” Phil said. “There will be more older people—all my relatives, and my parents’ friends, and people from my synagogue.”

  Lisa knew that a synagogue was where Jewish prayer services were held, but that was all she knew. “What about the service?” she asked, shifting to a more comfortable position on the sawdust-covered floor. “That comes first, right?”

  “Right,” said Phil. “It’s actually just the usual Saturday-morning service, but I’ll get to read from the Torah and then chant the haftarah. Then I give a speech about what I’ve read—sort of like a preacher’s sermon.” The girls knew that although Phil’s mother was Jewish, his father was Christian. That meant that even though Phil considered himself Jewish, he knew a lot about his father’s religion, too.

  Carole looked confused. “I understand the sermon part, but what’s a hava—haffto—”

  “Haftarah,” Phil corrected with a smile. “It’s a passage from the words of the Prophets in the Torah.”

  “The Torah is the Jewish Bible, right?” Lisa asked.

  Phil took a sip of his punch and nodded. “It’s what Christians call the Pentateuch. That’s the first five books of the Old Testament.”

  “You mean you’ll read Bible passages?” Stevie asked. “I mean, Torah passages?”

  “Right,” Phil said. “The Torah service is kind of complicated if you’re not used to it, but I think it’s pretty interesting, too. You see, it’s an old tradition that seven different people have to read from the Torah in Hebrew for the service to be complete. A lot of synagogues these days have a professional reader do all the Torah reading: Even though members of the congregation are still called, the reader reads the verses for everyone. But the rabbi at my synagogue likes to do it the traditional way on days when someone is becoming a bar mitzvah. After the seven people have read, an eighth person goes up who’s called the maftir. That means ‘the one who will conclude.’ At my bar mitzvah, I’ll be the maftir.”

  Carole picked up a stray piece of straw and twirled it between her fingers. “Wow,” she said. “That does sound kind of complicated. Is the reading hard?”

  “Well, it’s not exactly easy, but I’ve been getting lots of practice in Hebrew school,” Phil said. The girls knew that Phil attended Jewish education classes several times a week after school and on weekends. “One of the hardest things to get used to is that the Torah is written without any vowels. And of course it’s in Hebrew, and you have to sing it in the traditional chants and everything. I’m sure I’ll be nervous when the day arrives, but right now I’m just excited. My parents are excited, too.”

  “Even your dad?” Lisa asked. Then she blushed. “Sorry, that doesn’t sound very nice. But I mean, he isn’t Jewish, so …”

  “It’s a fair question,” Phil said, smiling at her to show he wasn’t offended. “And the answer is that Dad is almost as excited as I am. When he and Mom got married they decided they would raise their kids to be Jewish—that was really important to Mom and her family. And since becoming bar mitzvahed—or bat mitzvahed for my sisters—is so important to the rest of the family, that means it’s important to my dad, too. In fact, he picked out my tallith, with a little help from Grandfather Friedman. He was so excited about it he couldn’t even wait until my bar mitzvah to give it to me.”

  “That’s great,” Lisa asked. “But I have one question. What’s a tallith?”

  Phil laughed. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve been so wrapped up in all this stuff lately that I keep forgetting that my non-Jewish friends don’t know all these words. The tallith is a prayer shawl worn by all Jewish men. A lot of kids get one from their parents as a bar mitzvah gift. Come on, I brought mine in to show it to you guys.” He got up.

  “I’ve already seen it,” Stevie told her friends. “The tallith is really beautiful.”

  Lisa and Carole stood up and followed Phil and Stevie out of the indoor ring and down the hall toward the student locker room. One wall of the room was lined with cubbies where the young riders could store extra clothes and boots, schoolbooks, and the like.

  As they entered the room they saw two students sitting close together on the long bench in front of the cubbies. The couple jumped up quickly when they heard the group enter, and The Saddle Club recognized Joe Novick and his new girlfriend, a quiet girl named Shannon Brice. Most of the girls at Pine Hollow agreed he was the best-looking boy in their riding class. Shannon didn’t ride at Pine Hollow, but she went to Stevie’s school, Fenton Hall. Stevie didn’t know Shannon well, but she knew that the Brices were extremely wealthy and lived in a house even bigger than Veronica’s.

  “Oh, s-sorry,” Joe stammered. “Er, I mean, we didn’t know anyone would be coming in here.” Shannon didn’t say anything, but her face was turning red and she looked embarrassed. She stared down at her expensive-looking skirt and pretended to brush lint from it.

  “No, we’re sorry,” Phil said. “We’re the ones who didn’t know anyone would be in here. But we’ll only be a minute.”

  “That’s okay,” Shannon said softly. She turned to Joe. “I’m a little thirsty. Can we get some punch?”

  “Sure thing,” Joe said. He took her hand and led her toward the door. “Catch you guys later,” he said, glancing back at The Saddle Club. Shannon didn’t look around.

  “Bye,” Carole and Stevie said in one voice, and Lisa gave a little wave. As soon as Joe and Shannon had left the room, the three girls burst into giggles.

  “Oops,” Carole said. “I guess we ruined their plans to be alone.”

  “No kidding,” said Phil with a grin. He headed for Stevie’s cubby, but the three girls continued to stand by the door and talk.

  Lisa nodded. “I feel bad. She looked awfully
embarrassed.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Stevie said. “She always looks that way at school, too. She’s really shy.”

  “I wonder why,” Carole said. “She’s incredibly rich, right?” Carole and Lisa went to the public school across town from Fenton Hall, so they knew even less about Shannon than Stevie did.

  “That’s for sure,” Stevie said. “Her family makes the diAngelos look like paupers. But at least Shannon doesn’t brag about her money all the time like Veronica does. I’m just surprised she and Joe are a couple. He’s so nice and friendly, and she’s so quiet and boring.”

  “Just because she’s quiet doesn’t mean she’s boring,” Lisa pointed out.

  “True,” Carole agreed with a smile. “She could have some wild, exciting secret life we don’t know about.”

  “I hope so, for her sake,” Stevie said with a shrug. “But somehow I doubt it. Going out with Joe is probably the most exciting thing she’s done in her whole life.”

  Meanwhile Phil had pulled his backpack out of Stevie’s cubby and set it on the bench. He called the girls over, and they came and watched as he carefully took out a black velvet bag with colorful embroidery along the edges.

  “This is the bag I keep the tallith in when I’m not using it,” he explained. He opened the top and pulled out a bundle of fabric. When he unfolded it the girls saw that it was a large square of white silk with blue stripes woven into it. Tassels hung from each of the four corners, and embroidery decorated the edges.

  “It really is beautiful,” Lisa said, reaching out to touch the soft fabric. Carole nodded in agreement.

  Then Phil reached into his backpack again and took out a small black skullcap. When he held it up the girls could see that it was embroidered as well. In the center of the cap was a picture of a lion standing on its hind legs. Phil’s name was embroidered along the edge in golden thread. “This was another gift,” he explained. “My aunt and uncle sent it from Israel. They live there, but they’re flying over for my bar mitzvah.”