Full Gallop

by Bonnie Bryant

  Stevie grinned. “No kidding,” she said. “Max doesn’t need much of an excuse to drag out one of his patented safety lectures. Speaking of safety, I would say we’re safely warmed up by now.” She gave Belle a sound pat on the withers. “So what do you say we try a little trot?”

  “Let’s go!” Pushing Kelsey and everything else out of her mind, Callie gathered her reins and got ready to fly.

  Okay, so Checkers and Chip are headed out, Carole thought, glancing out Pine Hollow’s half-open front doors and seeing the two geldings walking across the stable yard in the direction of the trails, with their young riders chattering eagerly. That means now’s the perfect time to do their stalls. If I hurry, I could probably do Belles and Scooby’s before Stevie and Callie get back, so they won’t have to do it. Now where did I leave that pitchfork? She stopped short in the entryway, staring around wildly and feeling aggravated. Weekend afternoons were always busy at the stable, and that particular Sunday was no exception. But in the past hour busyness had turned into near chaos as far as Carole was concerned, and the reason could be summed up in two syllables: Kelsey.

  Carole glanced over at the doorway to the locker room, wondering if she’d left the pitchfork in there when Kelsey had demanded her help in pulling on her boots a little while earlier. As she headed over to check, she heard the chatter of voices inside.

  Ugh, she thought, hearing one particular voice. Sounds like the little princess hasn’t left on her ride yet.

  Steeling herself, she walked into the room. Kelsey was sitting on one of the long benches, busily twisting her hair up into a ponytail as she talked. Juliet, Sarah Anne, May, and another seventh grader, Rachel Hart, were also there.

  “… and a few of the horses here might fit in with the show horses at my old barn,” Kelsey was saying rather imperiously. “Like Topside, and maybe Talisman and Calypso—she’s a Thoroughbred, too, right?—and of course that cute gray mare.”

  “You mean Eve?” Rachel asked shyly. “She’s the one in the stall next to Pinky, Juliet’s horse.”

  Kelsey snorted and rolled her eyes. “I said cute,” she said. “Look it up. No, I mean that one over in the stall near the ponies.”

  “Oh! You’re talking about Firefly.” May glanced up from rubbing some dried mud off her paddock boot. “We’re not allowed to ride her yet. She’s too green.”

  Kelsey tossed her head. “Oh yeah? Well, she doesn’t look that green. I bet I could ride her.”

  “No, really, she’s not all the way trained yet,” Rachel put in earnestly. “And she can be pretty skittish sometimes. Carole and Ben are working with her on that.”

  “Well, Flamethrower wasn’t totally trained when I got him, either, and he spooks at everything,” Kelsey said with a shrug. “And we still won Reserve Champion at our last show. So I guess I could deal with Firefly if I wanted. She’s not even that big.”

  Carole rolled her eyes. It was bad enough to hear Kelsey casually insult Eve, a wonderfully sweet-tempered mare who had overcome her previous life of abuse and neglect to become a reliable school horse. But to claim, just like that, that she could ride a feisty green-broke horse like Firefly? That was equally ridiculous.

  Firefly would probably buck her off before she had both feet in the stirrups, Carole thought with grim satisfaction. Then, realizing she was being petty, she opened her mouth to respond to Kelsey directly. Rather than grumbling to herself, she should try to do some good by explaining why Firefly wasn’t safe for the younger riders yet. And while she was at it, she could invite Kelsey to try out Eve sometime so that she could judge the gentle mare’s sweetness and willing spirit for herself.

  But Carole was already too late. Kelsey had switched subjects and was busily bragging about how expensive her boots had been and how much more the custom boots her father had promised for her birthday would be. Shaking her head and sighing, Carole glanced around the room quickly. The pitchfork was nowhere in sight, but she saw that several notices had fallen off the bulletin board on the side wall and were scattered on the floor underneath. She headed over to pick them up, doing her best to ignore Kelsey’s continued bragging. The best way she could come up with to do that was to think about Ben.

  He looked so cute in the tack room just now, she thought with a secret smile. Not that he doesn’t always look cute, of course, but … She sighed happily, remembering how Ben had glanced over his shoulder as she’d entered, making sure the door into the office was mostly closed. Then he’d hurried over and taken her in his arms. The familiar smells of leather and saddle soap had mingled with the spicy scent of his aftershave as he’d kissed her.…

  “…can you believe that?” Kelsey’s voice rose to an aggrieved shriek as Carole tacked the last of the stray papers back in place, breaking into her pleasant daydream. Fearing that more trouble was brewing, she glanced over at the younger girls.

  “But that’s not against the rules or anything, is it?” Sarah Anne asked uncertainly. “Your horse having the same show name as another horse, I mean.”

  Kelsey frowned. “It’s the other person who stole my horse’s name,” she corrected sharply. “And no, it’s not against the rules. But it took me a long time to come up with such a great name, and now it’s ruined! I mean, this other horse rides on the same circuit as I do. Personally, I think I should be able to sue to make them change the other horse’s name, but Daddy says that won’t work. That’s why I decided I’ve got to come up with a new show name for Flamethrower.”

  Carole rolled her eyes again. She had never understood why some people found it necessary to constantly come up with new and ever more elaborate show names for their horses. I can’t imagine changing Starlight’s name just because some other horse had the same one, she thought, remembering the special starlit Christmas Eve that had inspired her horse’s one and only name. It’s so silly—it’s not like anyone else even really cares.

  Kelsey was already ticking off possibilities on her fingers. “…or maybe Flying Dream, or Dream-catcher, or something with the word dream in it—I think that would sound really cool.”

  “Oh!” May said, glancing up from her boots as Carole headed for the door. “Hi, Carole. What are you doing here?”

  Just call me Ms. Invisible, Carole thought wryly. If I’m not mucking out their horse’s stall for them, they don’t even see me anymore. I guess it’s because I’ve crossed that magical age line of sixteen. I’m not one of them anymore. And that’s just fine with me.

  “Just passing through,” she replied. “Are you guys going for a ride?”

  “Uh-huh,” Rachel said. “We’re just getting ready. Our horses are already saddled and everything.”

  Carole smiled at her. “Okay. Just don’t leave them standing around that way too long, or they might decide to lie down and roll.” She winked at Rachel and May, who were two of her favorite intermediate riders.

  “Don’t worry,” May said. “We’ve only been in here for about—”

  “Carole!” Kelsey interrupted in her usual demanding, bossy tone. “You have to tell Max something for me.”

  “I do?” Carole tried for a tone of bemused condescension, though it ended up sounding more like plain old annoyed. “What is it?”

  Kelsey tossed her head, her newly tied ponytail swinging back and forth. “Tell him I’ll be changing Flamethrower’s name very soon. He’ll have to change it on all his records and stuff.”

  Yeah, right, Carole thought sarcastically. I’m sure that’ll be right at the top of his priority list.

  “Whatever,” she told Kelsey with a sigh. “Have a good ride, everyone.”

  She hurried out before Kelsey could start making more demands. Behind her she heard the new girl start bragging about the fancy new brass nameplate she was sure her father would buy her as soon as she told him Flame’s exciting new name.

  Boy oh boy, Carole thought as she hurried across the entryway toward the indoor ring, still in search of her missing pitchfork. Max has had some obnoxious boarders be
fore, but Kelsey just about takes the cake. She’s even worse than Veronica was.

  Carole shuddered slightly as she remembered the years when Veronica diAngelo had kept her series of expensive horses at Pine Hollow. The wealthy girl had been in the same riding class as Carole and her friends, and she’d never passed up a chance to remind everyone how important she thought she was. Nobody had been too sad to see her go when she’d given up riding a couple of years earlier, deciding that it cut into her busy dating and shopping schedule too much.

  Okay, so Veronica was pretty bad, too, Carole thought with a smile. But at least she didn’t change her horses’ names every five minutes. When she got tired of their name, she just traded the whole horse in for a newer model.

  Still smiling at her private joke, she peeked into the indoor ring, where Max was giving a lesson to a small group of adults. The pitchfork wasn’t there, so Carole continued on her way, turning down the stable aisle where she last remembered having it.

  I couldn’t have left it in a stall, could I? she wondered. Kelsey has me a little distracted, but I’m not that bad off yet.

  Still, she quickly glanced into each stall as she passed, trying to remember which one she’d been cleaning when Kelsey had marched up and ordered her to find her a mane comb, since hers was missing. Several of the stalls were empty at the moment—Congo, Belle, Maddie, and Barq were out on the trails or in the ring. And Joyride was out enjoying one of her last days in Pine Hollow’s pastures—her new owner was scheduled to pick her up on Tuesday.

  It’s nice that she found such a great new home, Carole thought idly, peeking in at Talisman, who was dozing in the corner of his stall, with no pitchfork in sight. She’s such a talented horse, and even though Max probably would have liked to keep her, I don’t think she’d ever be happy as a school horse, even for the more advanced riders. Eventing is what she was born to do. It would have been a shame to make her switch gears now.

  Hearing a familiar nicker, Carole glanced up and saw Starlight watching her from his stall across the aisle. “Hey, boy,” she said softly, hurrying over to give him a pat. She glanced at her watch and grimaced. “I promised you we’d hit the trails today, didn’t I? Sorry about that.” She felt guilty, trying to remember the last time she’d taken her horse on a nice long hack. Still, there wasn’t much she could do about it at the moment—with Queen Kelsey breathing down her neck, she’d had to cancel out on her plans to go riding with Stevie. She considered turning Starlight out after he’d had his dinner, but reluctantly decided it was too cold—she really needed to buy him a heavier turnout rug with her next paycheck. “I wouldn’t have clipped you if I’d known I wouldn’t have a spare second to ride you all winter,” she murmured, burying her hands in the gelding’s topknot as he nuzzled her curiously. Feeling a little sorry for herself, she gave Starlight one last hug and then turned away with a sigh.

  That’s the only bad thing about this job, she thought as she looked in on Topside. No pitchfork. It would be nice if I had more time for—

  She stopped in mid-thought as she came to the end of the row and saw Flame. The chestnut gelding was standing at the front of his stall, looking out over the stall chain. Riders weren’t supposed to leave horses unattended with only the chain up, but that wasn’t what made Carole’s jaw drop. What did that was the fact that Flame wasn’t just saddled as he waited for his rider to return—he was bridled as well.

  “That—That—” Carole sputtered, furious with Kelsey. What had the girl been thinking? Who knew how long Flame had been standing there fully bridled?

  He could have caught the rings of the bit on something and really messed up his mouth, Carole thought, quickly unhooking the stall chain and pulling the reins over the gelding’s head. The reins might have come back over his head where he could step on them, or he could’ve gotten them tangled up with his water bucket, or—She forced herself to stop thinking of all the terrible possibilities. That could wait—at least until she found Kelsey.

  “Come on, boy,” she told the horse grimly as she led him out of the stall. “It’s time to go give that irresponsible owner of yours a good talking-to.”

  SEVEN

  Monday afternoon, as soon as the bell rang releasing her from history class, Stevie tossed her books into her backpack and hurried out of the room. She had a newspaper meeting that afternoon, and she didn’t want to be late.

  “Whoa!” a familiar voice exclaimed as she barreled out into the crowded hallway. “Where’s the fire?”

  “Oh!” Stevie skidded to a stop. “Hey, Callie. I was just on my way to a Sentinel meeting.”

  Callie nodded and shifted her stack of books to her other arm. “Cool. Looks like you’re on the trail of a breaking story.”

  Stevie grinned sheepishly. “Well, sort of,” she admitted. “I mean, today’s the day we pitch stuff for next week’s paper, and I’m hoping Theresa will let me do my latest idea.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Are you going to the stable?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll see you there.” Callie smiled. “Good luck at the meeting.”

  “Thanks.” With a quick wave, Stevie continued on her way.

  Ten minutes later she was sitting in the school’s media room, surrounded by the rest of the newspaper staff. She couldn’t help making a face when Veronica diAngelo sauntered in, fashionably late as usual. Ugh, Stevie thought. I can’t believe she’s actually still writing that stupid gossip column. It’s not like her—or her usual five-second attention span. It still irked her that Veronica, with her usual sense of entitlement, had lucked right into writing a weekly column, while Stevie herself was forced to pay her dues with bottom-of-the-barrel stories and boring research assignments.

  As Veronica took a seat near the windows, Theresa Cruz, a senior and the editor of the paper, stood and held up a hand for attention. “Okay, let’s get started,” she said in her brisk, no-nonsense voice. “First, old business. Let’s start with last week’s issue.…”

  Stevie waited impatiently as the group discussed the previous issue and then moved on to new business, then finally to story ideas. When it was her turn, Stevie cleared her throat and stood up.

  “Okay, here’s my idea,” she said eagerly. “As some of you may already know, I’ve been riding since I was a kid, doing all kinds of stuff—jumping, Pony Club rallies, a little foxhunting, whatever. But competition-wise, I’ve mostly stuck to dressage for the past few years. Just recently, though, I decided my horse and I needed a change, so we’ve been looking into eventing.” She explained the sport briefly for the benefit of the nonriders in the room. “Anyway, the point is, switching disciplines like that has really opened up my eyes, made me appreciate riding all over again. It’s partly because eventing is so cool, but I think it also has something to do with the whole feeling of trying something new and different—taking a risk. So then I thought it would be interesting to talk to other people who might have tried new stuff lately.” She shrugged. “You know—discovering a new hobby, starting a new school, trying something different…”

  “I got a haircut last week,” Veronica called out, lazily twirling a strand of her dark hair around one finger. “Want to interview me?”

  Stevie rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she continued, ignoring Veronica’s comment, “I was thinking it would be sort of a human-interest piece, with some commentary on risk taking, the advantages and disadvantages of it, stuff like that. People talking about how their decision to take a chance and try something new has changed their whole lives from that point on, for better or for worse.” She held her breath, waiting for the editor’s judgment.

  “Interesting,” Theresa said, making a note on her pad. “Let me think about that one, Stevie, okay?”

  “Sure.” Stevie grinned as she sat down. Theresa was tough—if she hated an idea, she said so right away. The fact that she was willing to consider Stevie’s latest story proposal meant there was a pretty good chance she’d let her do it. And that was a good thing. S
ince joining the paper the previous semester, Stevie had spent far too much time researching the boring stories that the more senior writers didn’t want to do. She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into an interesting story.

  The meeting wrapped up a few minutes later, and Stevie gathered her things, eager to get over to Pine Hollow and give Callie the good news. As she headed out of the room and started down the hall toward the exit, Veronica fell into step beside her. “So, Stevie,” she began in her most condescending drawl, “when are you going to grow up already and get over the horsey thing? I mean, hanging around the stable all the time and walking around with manure on your shoes is okay when you’re, like, ten, but when you’re still doing it as a junior in high school? Well, if you ask me it’s kind of pathetic, really.”

  “Did you hear me ask you?” Stevie asked. But she really wasn’t in the mood to fight with Veronica just then—she was too happy about the way the meeting had gone. “Hey,” she said to change the subject. “I heard you know Pine Hollow’s newest boarder. Kelsey Varick?”

  Veronica blinked. “What? Oh, sure. Her father plays golf at my father’s club sometimes.”

  “She’s quite the little character,” Stevie said blandly. “You two seem to have, um, a lot in common.” She held back an evil grin with difficulty. Maybe she didn’t feel like fighting, but that didn’t mean tweaking Veronica wasn’t still fun.

  “I don’t know.” Veronica seemed decidedly uninterested in the whole subject of Kelsey Varick. “Anyway, I’m surprised she wanted to move her horse there. I heard it’s a real mess right now with all that noisy, dirty construction going on. It must be a total nightmare.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I mean, that place was always chaotic even when there was nothing in particular going on.”