That part went pretty well. Foxy didn’t seem to mind being fussed over. She didn’t even object when Paige fetched a spray bottle from the tack room and squirted the mane with water to make it lie flat.
“Okay,” Paige said, finally seeming satisfied. “Now we’ll start pulling.” She’d grabbed a little metal comb from the tack room while she was in there, which she now used to separate out a small section of mane. “You hold the comb like this and wrap the longest ends around it. See? Then give it a sharp yank, like this.”
She did just that, pulling out some of the mane hairs with the comb. Foxy jerked her head up and took a step backward. “Easy, girl,” Brooke said, rubbing the pony’s neck. “Did that hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt them,” Paige said, flipping her own red hair out of the way, over her shoulder. “Not any more than it hurts them for you to grab a handful of mane to steady yourself while you’re riding.” She shrugged. “Foxy’s probably just not used to the feeling, that’s all. She’ll get over it.”
But she didn’t. With each yank of the pulling comb, the mare got more agitated. Brooke stood at her head, trying to soothe her with words and pats. Finally, though, Foxy had had enough. As Paige pulled another cluster of hairs out, the mare jerked her head up and back. The crossties snapped, and Foxy was loose.
“Whoa!” Brooke cried, alarmed. “Easy, girl.”
“What’s going on?” It was Hannah. She’d just arrived in the barn, with Livi right behind her.
“We were pulling Foxy’s mane, and she set back and broke the ties. No biggie.” Paige didn’t sound that upset.
But Brooke’s face was flaming. “Um, I guess she likes her mane the way it is,” she quipped weakly. “It’s okay, girl. . . .”
Luckily, Foxy didn’t seem interested in running off. She let Brooke grab her halter and lead her over to another set of ties.
“Want to try again?” Paige asked. “Maybe you could hold her while I pull or something?”
“No, that’s okay.” Brooke didn’t meet the other girl’s eye. “It’ll be time for our lesson soon. We should probably just tack up.”
“By the way,” Robin said as Brooke and the other girls carried their dishes into the kitchen after dinner that night. “I forgot to mention, you’re all welcome to use the computer in my office if you need to check e-mail or anything.”
Brooke stopped short, the thought of contact with home making her smile for the first time in hours. “Um, I’d like to do that, if it’s okay,” she told Robin.
Livi gave her a confused look. “Can’t you just check e-mail on your phone?”
“I don’t have the Internet on my phone.” Brooke tried not to notice the incredulous look on the other girl’s face. Hannah wrinkled her nose as if trying to figure out the concept of a phone without Internet access, and even Paige looked surprised.
“You could have asked to borrow one of our phones,” she said.
“It’s okay,” Brooke said. “This will be easier. I’ll be out in a minute.” Brooke was relieved when Paige nodded and followed the other two toward the back door.
“It’s down the hall, second door on the left,” Robin said.
“Thanks.” Brooke found her way to the office. It was a small room that seemed even smaller due to the fact that every inch of wall space was covered in framed horse show photos and racks of ribbons. In some of the photos Brooke recognized a younger Robin piloting various gorgeous horses over tall jumps. Many others featured a pretty teenager with Robin’s strong chin and blue eyes. Brooke looked at the inscription beneath one of them: Morgan Montgomery, Junior Jumper Champion, Upperville Horse Show.
Robin’s daughter. Brooke glanced at a case full of trophies that took up most of one wall. A lot of them had Morgan’s name on them too. Obviously Robin’s daughter had showed and won a lot before she’d gone off to college. Brooke wondered how someone like that could stand living in New York City, so far away from her old horsey life.
She spent a few more minutes looking at the pictures and trophies before remembering why she was there. Robin’s computer sat on a small wooden desk that was crammed into the corner by the trophy case. Sitting down, Brooke logged on to her e-mail account. There was a short note from her mother and another from her grandparents, both wishing her well at camp. Aside from a couple of ads and a bunch of messages notifying her of new posts on the Pony Post, that was it. There was nothing from Adam.
He probably figures I won’t be able to check in anyway, Brooke told herself, logging off of her account. Maybe I’ll send him an e-mail later.
She typed in the address for the Pony Post and logged in. Then she pushed her glasses up her nose and leaned forward to scan the site. As she’d expected, there were lots of new entries. Quite a few were about her.
[MADDIE] I wonder if Brooke will be able to email us from camp?
[HALEY] I’m sure she will. It’s not like she’s going to camp in Siberia!
[MADDIE] lol, I know. But my friend Bridget goes to this arts camp every summer where they aren’t allowed to bring any elec. stuff. Not even phones. She can only email me like once a week.
[NINA] ugh, I’d die! Anyway, hi B, if you’re out there! Hope you’re having a fab time at camp!
[HALEY] Ditto! Hi Brooke!
[HALEY] She & Foxy are probably having so much fun she’ll forget all about us tho, lol!
[MADDIE] Never! But I hope she’s having a blast!
Brooke scanned the rest of the entries, mostly just regular chitchat about what the others had been doing with their ponies. Reading her friends’ cheerful words made Brooke feel both happy and weirdly sad. If only they were here with her, camp would be a whole different experience!
She couldn’t help slipping into daydreams of all the fun she’d be having if the other Pony Posters were there. They’d help each other through Robin’s tough riding lessons and talk late into the night in the bunkhouse. Maybe Brooke would lead her friends to that beach she and Foxy had discovered. If the cranky old lady caught them again, Nina could probably charm her into letting them stay, and then Maddie would surely have some fun ideas for games of beach tag or something, and daredevil Haley would probably convince them all to try jumping their ponies over the rocks or swimming them in the Sound. . . .
Finally Brooke blinked and snapped back to reality, not sure how much time had passed. Glancing out the tiny window just visible between a shelf full of trophies and a rack crowded with multicolored horse show ribbons, she saw that the sky was dark. Oops. A glance at her watch told Brooke it was past time for lights-out. Robin would probably be along soon to chase her off to her bunk.
Brooke was about to shut down the computer when she realized she hadn’t posted a response to her friends yet. She opened a text box and typed quickly.
[BROOKE] Hi guys! I’m here. Camp is fine so far. Foxy and I have a lot to learn! The other campers are nice. Wish u guys were here instead, tho!
She paused, reading over the last line. Once again, her mind drifted as she imagined how much fun the four of them could have here together.
But never mind. Wishes didn’t move merchandise, as her stepfather liked to say. Brooke added GTG! More later! at the end of her entry, then pressed enter and signed off.
When she left the office, the house was dark and quiet. She tiptoed down the hall, surprised that Robin hadn’t noticed she was still out and about, and not particularly wanting to alert her to that fact. As she passed an open window, voices drifted in on the evening breeze.
“I was hoping we could at least enjoy one evening before this came up again, Preston.” That was Robin; she sounded kind of annoyed.
A man’s voice responded: “Why put it off? You need to look at this logically.”
Robin responded, but she’d lowered her voice enough so Brooke couldn’t make out what she said. All she caught were the words “farm” and “big change” and “rush.”
Preston’s voice was louder. “Well, you can’t sit on this decision fore
ver.”
“I know.” Robin’s voice was louder again too, and sharp—like when she reprimanded a horse that tried to nip. “But not tonight.”
Realizing she was eavesdropping, if only accidentally, Brooke jumped back into motion before she heard any more. When she reached the cabin, the other girls were already in bed.
“There you are,” Hannah said with a yawn. “You must have had a ton of e-mails to read.”
Paige giggled. “Yeah. We were just going to send out a search party.”
Brooke doubted that—if they’d really been worried about her, wouldn’t they have come looking by now?—but she didn’t say so. “I’m here,” she said instead. “Um, listen, I was wondering something. Preston is the guy Robin mentioned before, right? Her boyfriend or something?”
“Yeah.” Livi snuggled farther into her covers. “It’s kind of a romantic story. Preston heard about this place from his cousin, and dropped by to see if Robin was interested in selling the farm.”
“Selling the farm?” Brooke echoed.
“Uh-huh,” Paige said. “He’s in real estate. My stepdad knows him and says he’s a real go-getter.” She giggled. “Sounds dorky, right? But coming from my stepdad, it’s supposed to be a compliment.”
“Anyway”—Livi picked up the story again—“Robin said no to the selling thing, but when Preston asked her out she said yes.”
“And the rest is history,” Hannah mumbled sleepily, her dark eyes falling shut as she snuggled back under her covers. “You’ll meet him tomorrow, probably. Robin said he’s supposed to get here tonight. I guess he’s helping out this year or something.”
“Yeah, which is kind of weird, actually.” Livi wrinkled her nose. “He never showed much interest in horses before.”
“Hmm.” Brooke was already losing interest. Whatever she’d heard, it was none of her business. So what if Robin and Preston had been arguing? Brooke’s mom and stepfather argued all the time, and it was no big deal.
As the others drifted off to sleep, Brooke lay awake feeling unsettled and homesick. Seeing the nice words from her Pony Post friends had only reminded her once again how well she fit in with them—and how much she didn’t fit in at Camp Pocomoke. She’d never be like Robin and her daughter in those pictures, holding their trophies and patting their fancy show horses. That didn’t mean she couldn’t learn a lot from Robin, but was it really worth it? Maybe Brooke and Foxy were wasting everyone’s time, including their own, trying to fit in here. Maybe they should go back home where they were comfortable. For a second Brooke was tempted to dig her cell phone out of her cubby, call her mother, and beg to come home early.
Then she imagined telling her Pony Post friends. None of them would ever give up so quickly, would they?
The answer came into her mind immediately: No way!
So maybe Brooke shouldn’t give up just yet either. Maybe she should stick it out, at least for another day or two. That way, nobody could say she hadn’t given it a real try.
CHAPTER
7
BROOKE AWOKE WITH A START the next morning when a bird burst into enthusiastic song right outside the bunkhouse window. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and glanced around. The other beds were empty—Paige’s neatly made, Livi’s a complete mess, and Hannah’s somewhere in between. Brooke checked her watch and saw that she was late for breakfast.
“Thanks for waking me, guys,” she muttered as she climbed out of bed.
She dressed quickly, not bothering to shower, and rushed to the main house. There was barely time to choke down half a piece of toast and a few gulps of orange juice before Robin was shooing them off to the barn for their morning lesson.
As she pulled Foxy out of her stall, Brooke was feeling rushed and sleepy and generally out of sorts. The pony seemed to pick up on her mood, spooking at the click of the crosstie being clipped on and generally being antsy and difficult all during grooming and tacking.
Robin wasn’t in the ring yet when the girls entered. The other three mounted their horses, barely pausing in their conversation as they did so.
Finally it was Brooke’s turn at the mounting block. But Foxy stepped to the side before her rider could put her foot in the stirrup. Brooke climbed down and led her around for another try, but the pony did the same thing.
“Quit it, would you?” Brooke exclaimed, yanking on the reins to try to stop Foxy from moving off a third time.
“Easy, Brooke.” Robin had hurried into the ring at that very moment. “It won’t help to lose patience with her. Here, let’s try it again. . . .”
“Thanks.” Brooke noticed that a man had also appeared and was leaning on the rail, watching. He was around Robin’s age or maybe a little younger, tall and well-groomed in khaki pants and a polo shirt.
Robin noticed her looking. “Brooke, that’s Preston,” she said. “He’ll be helping out with some of our activities this week. Preston, this is Brooke Rhodes.”
“Hello, Brooke,” Preston said with a brief smile.
“Hi.” Brooke felt self-conscious with the man watching, but with Robin holding Foxy’s head, the mare finally stood still long enough for Brooke to mount.
However, the lesson only went downhill from there.
“Quiet legs, Brooke,” Robin called from the center of the ring as Foxy jumped into a canter when Brooke was trying to get her to trot in a circle. “But Foxy is bending better today—nice work.”
Brooke hardly heard the compliment. Foxy had just spurted forward again, even though Brooke was sure she hadn’t moved her legs at all.
“Watch it!” Livi exclaimed, pulling her horse to a halt just in time to avoid a collision.
“Sorry,” Brooke muttered, wrestling Foxy into a circle to slow her down. But the mare didn’t settle until they started some gymnastic exercises over low jumps, which Foxy actually seemed to enjoy. By then, however, Brooke’s own mood had soured beyond repair.
“Nice riding, everyone,” Robin said after the girls had all gone through the exercise for the third or fourth time. “We’ll quit there.”
“Really?” Paige sounded disappointed. “I was hoping we’d finally do some higher jumps today.”
“It’s not about the height of the jumps, Paige,” Robin said.
She started lecturing about basics and the foundations of riding, but Brooke wasn’t really listening. Would the other girls already be jumping three-foot courses if she wasn’t here? The thought made her wince.
As the whole group left the ring, Robin checked her watch. “Abby’s going to be late today, so you guys are on your own while I teach the olders’ lesson,” she said. “How about if you take a walk to the farm stand after you put your horses away? It would be nice to have some fresh peaches for dessert.”
“You mean the farm stand up the road where that cute high school boy works?” Livi brightened. “I’m in!”
“Me too,” Hannah and Paige chorused.
Brooke didn’t say anything until after all the horses were untacked, groomed, and turned out into the pasture. As the other girls set out for the driveway, she hung back.
“I think I’ll skip the walk,” she called. “I didn’t have time for a shower this morning, and I thought I’d take one now.”
“Are you sure?” Paige asked. “The guy who works there is really cute!”
“Let her stay.” Hannah adjusted her ponytail and wet her lips. “I don’t need any more competition.”
Livi laughed. “Catch you later, Brooke.”
Half an hour later, Brooke toweled off her hair as she stepped out of the steamy bunkhouse bathroom. Her long, hot shower had actually improved her mood a little—and abruptly running out of hot water at the end had finally chased away the last of her lingering sleepiness.
As she wandered over to her bunk in search of clean clothes, she heard raised voices drifting in from outside.
It was Robin and Preston. Once again they were involved in a heated discussion, this time in what they probably thought was a private
spot behind the barn. Didn’t the two of them ever do anything but argue? Brooke froze, clutching her towel and wishing they’d move on.
“And if you’re going to sell, this is the time to do it,” Preston was saying forcefully. “The offer won’t be there forever.”
Brooke flashed back to what the girls had told her the night before—that Preston had wanted to help Robin sell the farm. But that had happened ages ago, and Robin had said no, hadn’t she?
“I’m just not ready to commit,” Robin said. “Your friend might be on a tight schedule, but this is my home.”
“I know, I know. But you’ve been complaining about being short on funds, and the developer really wants to move on this—there’s a huge demand for high-end condos in this area, and most of the landowners won’t budge. If you’re the first one to jump on this offer, you can pretty much write your own ticket.”
Brooke gasped, almost dropping her towel. Was Preston seriously suggesting that Robin sell the farm so that someone could tear it down and build a bunch of ugly condos?
“And I told you, I don’t have time for this right now, Preston.” Robin’s voice was clipped. “Maybe in a few weeks, after camp is over . . .”
“Won’t you at least talk to the man before then?” Preston sounded frustrated, but his next words were gentler. “I know it’s hard to part with this place, but think about it, Robin. You’d clear more than enough to move anywhere you like. You could stop worrying about money. You wouldn’t even have to work if you didn’t want to, never mind running yourself ragged like you’ve been doing since your daughter moved out.”
“I’m fine. I’m used to hard work.”
“I know. But wouldn’t it be nice to take a break, try something different for a while? Maybe the two of us could move to New York City, near your daughter. Won’t you promise me you’ll at least consider this deal? Consider what it could mean for you—for us?”
Robin didn’t answer for a moment. “Fine, okay. I’ll consider it. But not right now. I’m already late for the olders’ lesson.”
Blue Ribbon Summer Page 6
