Horses hate to move sideways because to a horse there’s just no point in moving to the side. To a horse ahead is the only way to go. So all the way down the line there was arguing and maneuvering between horses and riders. Finally all horses had moved to the left.
“Maximillian mandates all horses make a figure eight.”
This was easy. It was something even the younger riders could do. Within seconds all the horses had completed figure eights and were back to their starting spots.
“Excellent,” Max said. “Take four steps forward.”
Veronica diAngelo, who had probably been thinking about her perfect fingernails, Stevie decided, shook the reins and let Garnet take four steps forward.
“Maximillian didn’t mandate,” Amie yelled.
“So?” Veronica sniffed. “Who cares?”
“You’re out of the game, Veronica,” Max said. “Move to the sidelines.”
Veronica rode Garnet to the edge of the field.
“Maximillian mandates four steps to the rear,” Max said.
Horses dislike walking backward even more than they hate moving sideways, so there was a lot of persuading of horses, but finally all the horses moved back.
“Who can be first to gallop around the rocks?” Max said, pointing to a group of rocks that looked like sheep feeding in the grass.
Phil’s horse Teddy took off toward the rocks. Phil hadn’t signaled him to do that—Stevie could tell from the look of annoyance on Phil’s face—but four other horses followed.
The only riders left now were Stevie, Lisa, and Carole, plus Amie, Jackie, and Peter Allman.
“Show me how good your communication is with your horse,” Max said. “Get your horse to canter without using your reins or your heels.”
“Easy,” Amie said, and she was off with Jackie and Peter after her.
But Maximillian hadn’t mandated, so they were out of the game.
Now there was no one left but the three girls in The Saddle Club. Lisa looked at Carole and Stevie. Usually the three of them would be having fun. But today Carole and Stevie were acting cold and unfriendly.
“Maximillian mandates do the Piaffe,” Max said.
This was one of the hardest of all movements. It meant that the horse had to trot in one place. If horses hate to move sideways, or backward, they really hate trotting without getting anywhere.
Carole had recently been working on the Piaffe, so she walked Starlight, then urged him into a trot, and then slowed him to the Piaffe, making it look easy.
“Max may mandate, but can I do it?” Stevie muttered to herself. Topside could do the Piaffe because he was a show horse. The problem wasn’t Topside; it was Stevie’s timing, knowing when to give him the command. Stevie moved Topside into a trot and then slowed him. Topside was almost there, but then he couldn’t stand the frustration and jumped forward.
Stevie was out of the game.
When Lisa tried to slow Comanche into a Piaffe, he tossed his head, as if to say that she must be kidding, and came to an abrupt halt. The game was over.
“Carole wins,” Max said, “and by the way, Carole, that was an excellent Piaffe.”
Carole’s cheeks were glowing.
The next game was Horse Professor. Every time someone answered a question about horses correctly, the rider and his or her horse got to take a giant step forward.
“Can we place bets on the winner?” Phil grinned. “Because if we can, I’m betting on Carole.”
“That’s right.” Amie nodded vigorously. “Carole is the best.”
“Why bother to compete?” Veronica said. “It’s not worth the trouble.”
“Wrong!” Max said. “Carole is not going to be the winner, because she is going to ask the questions.”
A groan went up from the riders. “We’ll be here all night answering Carole’s stupid questions,” Veronica muttered. “Frankly, I’m not into it.” She turned Garnet away from the other riders.
“That’s fine,” Max said evenly. “Good luck to the rest of you riders.”
The riders lined up facing Carole and Starlight. Carole gritted her teeth. This was not exactly the job she wanted, but she didn’t want to let Max down. “Okay,” she began, “why do foals graze with their knees bent?”
“So they can moonwalk,” Stevie said, and everyone giggled.
“Very funny,” Max remarked. “Does anybody know the real reason?”
“To wear out their knee socks,” Betsy said.
“Brilliant.” Carole looked around. “Does anybody really know?”
Amie jumped up in her saddle and raised her hand. “I know. I know.”
“Why?” Carole said.
“Because their legs are so long, their heads can’t reach the grass.”
“That’s right,” Carole said. “Take a giant step. Now, how long does it take a horse to digest an apple?”
“What kind of a question is that?” Betsy said.
“I know,” Polly Giacomin said. “It takes a day. Because an apple a day keeps the horse vet away.”
Carole shook her head. What was the point of this? No one was taking her seriously. They all thought she was a bore.
“You’re out of the game, Polly,” Max said. “And the next person to make a joke is out of the horse games altogether.”
Great! Carole thought. I’m such a loser that Max has to stick up for me. She looked at him, hoping he would end this game, but he nodded and said, “Continue.”
“How long does it really take?” she said.
“It takes a horse four days to digest anything,” Jackie said.
“Excellent. Take a step forward.”
Phil and Amie and Jackie kept getting the right answers until the three of them were neck and neck.
“Final question,” Carole said. “How do you know when a horse is totally miserable?”
Phil was still thinking about it when Amie and Jackie raised their hands and bounced in their saddles, yelling, “Me! Me!”
“Both,” Carole said.
“When the horse is pining,” the girls said together.
“It’s a tie,” Max declared. “And I think we can see here that not only is Carole a true professor of horse-ology, but also a great teacher.”
Ha, Carole thought. Here’s a good Horse Professor question—who can make horses seem dull? Carole Hanson.
Next came the relay race. Max made Stevie head of one team and Veronica head of the other. Veronica picked Phil, and then Stevie picked Carole. Veronica picked Joe Novick. Next Stevie picked Lisa. She was still angry with her friend, but there was no way Stevie could let Lisa get stuck on Veronica’s team. Lisa flashed Stevie a small smile as she signaled Comanche to move to that side of the field.
By the end of the picking, Veronica had nothing but boys on her team with the exception of herself and Betsy Cavanaugh.
“I guess Veronica thinks girls can’t ride,” Stevie said to her team. She said nothing about the fact that Betsy and Phil were on the same team again.
“Let’s show her,” Carole said.
“These will be your relay batons,” Max said, handing a stick to Stevie and one to Veronica. “Here’s the course. You go around the stand of Indian paintbrush.” He pointed to the bristly orange and yellow flowers. “Around those pale-gray rocks that look like sheep, and then around the mountain laurel.” He pointed to the bushes with pale-pink flowers. “And then back. Ride fast, but not too fast.” He looked at the younger riders, Amie, Jackie, Peter, and Liam. “Anyone who loses a stirrup or a rein will have to start over again.”
Stevie named Carole to ride the first lap and Lisa the second.
Lisa noticed that Stevie didn’t look at her when she made the assignment. Great, Lisa thought, she may have picked me, but she’s not about to talk to me.
Stevie named Amie and Jackie to ride the next laps. Lisa noticed that she looked at them. And then Polly Giacomin, and finally Stevie herself, riding the cleanup lap.
“Riders ready. Start,” Max said.
Carole and Starlight burst away from the group, cantering easily through the wiry meadow grass, making it look like fun, a sign that the horse and Carole were in perfect communication. Veronica on Garnet was not far behind, but Garnet was wasting energy, using too short a stride. Veronica wasn’t riding him properly.
Starlight floated around the Indian paintbrush and toward the rocks, while Veronica, riding too low over Garnet’s neck, urged her on. A good rider, like Carole, showed confidence in her horse. She didn’t push. Veronica, on the other hand, was overeager. She was pushing Garnet too hard, throwing her off her stride.
By the time Carole and Starlight got to the rocks, they were a length ahead. By the time they got to the mountain laurel, they were ahead by a length and a half.
Carole handed off the stick perfectly, so by the time Lisa got to the Indian paintbrush she was two lengths ahead.
“Now, listen,” Stevie said to Jackie and Amie. “We have perfect position. All you have to do is not ride too hard. Did you see Veronica?” The girls nodded. “Don’t push your horse. Help him concentrate, but don’t force him, because he wants to win even more than you do.”
Lisa handed off to Amie, who took off, her eyes shining.
“Amie!” Stevie called. “Not so fast.”
Amie’s excitement had passed itself to her horse, and the two of them were barreling toward the rocks.
“Heels down,” Stevie yelled. But it was too late. One of Amie’s feet had slipped through the stirrup.
“Stop your horse,” Max called. “Rider back.”
Amie brought her horse to a jolting stop, regained her stirrup, and headed back. By the time she got back to Max, Liam, who was on the other team, was rounding the rocks. Amie had lost the lead and then some.
Amie’s face was streaked with tears. “I wrecked it,” she said. “I blew the race.”
Stevie glanced over at the other team. Betsy was hanging on to Phil’s shoulder, anxiously biting her nails as she watched Liam head back. “Come on, Liam,” Betsy shouted.
Stevie looked back at Amie. Stevie really wanted to win this relay, but the words in Lisa’s journal came flooding back to her: It’s fine to be competitive … but last night Stevie got carried away.…
“Nothing’s wrecked,” Stevie said firmly to Amie. “Trust your horse.”
Amie rode out again, her back straight, head tall.
Liam came cantering in and passed off to Peter. By this time the other team was four horse lengths ahead. There was no way Stevie’s team could catch up, short of a miracle. Polly Giacomin rode better than Stevie had expected and picked up half a length, but by the time Stevie set off on the final lap, she was three and a half lengths behind Phil. It doesn’t matter who wins, she told herself. The important thing is to be a good sport and have a good time.
Looking ahead, she saw that Teddy wasn’t cantering well. He was digging his feet too deep and springing too high. Teddy was losing ground. This was the opportunity Stevie’s team needed, and Stevie was determined not to let it go by.
She leaned over Topside’s neck and said, “Go.”
Topside flew over the grass toward the Indian paintbrush. Stevie steered Topside wide, not wanting to get in Teddy’s way.
Teddy was almost prancing—not something a horse should do in a race. Phil was leaning low over his neck, talking to him. Phil must have said something right, because as Stevie drew even, Teddy began to canter again with Phil crouched low in the saddle.
Stevie leaned closer to Topside’s neck, and the horse’s stride lengthened. His gait was so smooth that Stevie could scarcely feel the hoofbeats. She was part of his motion. Tears were streaming out of the corners of her eyes and her throat was dry from the wind.
When she and Phil approached the finish line, they were neck and neck. At the last second Topside made a huge effort and managed to cross the line a whisker ahead. “Yes!” shrieked Stevie. She put her arms up, making victory signs with both hands. Her teammates gathered around her, yelling, “We won! We won!”
When Stevie turned around, she saw Phil sitting on Teddy, watching her. Her face colored. I did it again, she realized. All I thought about was winning—and beating Phil. Lisa’s right. I have absolutely no self-control.
But Phil rode over to her and said, “Nice race.”
“You mean it?” she said, filled with relief.
“Sure.” Phil looked at Topside’s chest, which was flecked with foam. “We’d better cool them down.”
“I’d say it’s a must.” Stevie grinned.
They rode together toward the trees. Teddy was still prancing nervously.
“I’m sorry Teddy was spooked,” Stevie said. “It wasn’t fair.”
Phil looked at her, his green eyes shining. “A race is a race. Whatever happens is fair. You raced well. That’s what counts.”
Stevie felt a wave of relief. It was practically the first time Phil and she had spoken since they left Pine Hollow. Now at least some of the tension had broken.
Phil reached down and ran his hand along Teddy’s neck. “Teddy has this thing about weather and loud noises. On the Fourth of July when firecrackers and rockets go off, he stays in his stall waiting for the world to end.”
“Poor guy,” Stevie said. “What do you do to calm him? As a matter of fact, what did you do out there during the race? You said something to him.”
Phil smiled. “One of these days I’ll tell you. I’m just waiting for the right moment.”
“So what’s wrong with now?” Stevie said, turning to him with a smile.
But a voice called to them from the top of the meadow. Stevie and Phil turned in their saddles. It was Carole, motioning them back to the group. “Time for the postmortem,” she called. Reluctantly Stevie turned her horse around, and Phil did the same.
“Good racing,” Max said when they returned. “I hope you all learned something from that.” He looked at all the other riders, but especially at Amie and Veronica. “A horse wants to win a race. What you as a rider have to do is help your horse stay calm and concentrated. You have to help your horse run his own race.”
Tears gathered in Amie’s eyes again.
But then Max added, “Even more important is to keep on trying. Horses are just like people—they make mistakes sometimes. As a rider you have to let your horse know that one mistake isn’t the end of the world. And that’s what Amie did.”
Amie grinned.
“And now, what I suggest,” Max said, “is that some of the riders get the horses ready for the night, and the others start a fire.” Max looked at the sky, which was turning pink in the west. “I predict a clear, cold night with lots of stars. We’ll need a good fire so we can stay up and tell horse stories.”
“Horse ghost stories,” Stevie clarified. “I feel one coming on already. It’s about this ghost rider in the sky who’s in this Ghostly Ghastly Relay Race.”
“Later,” Max said with a grin. “First the fire. Stevie and Phil, you two can make it.”
“You’re on.” Stevie quickly slid down from Topside and handed the reins to Jackie. As Phil dismounted, Betsy approached him.
“That was great,” she breathed. “You handled Teddy so well. I was afraid you were going to be thrown. It was masterful.”
Somehow Betsy has managed to come between us again, Stevie thought furiously. She was staring at the back of Betsy’s head with its shining chestnut hair, every strand in place.
“Thanks,” Phil said. “There was a minute there I thought I was going to wind up in a tree.”
“Not you,” Betsy said. “You would never wind up in a tree.”
Is he going to help me, or flirt with her all day? Stevie thought. In disgust she looked away from Betsy and glanced at Phil’s horse, Teddy.
As if he were reading Stevie’s mind, Phil spoke up. “Hey, Stevie, let me give Teddy to Liam, and we’ll get started gathering firewood.”
Stevie frowned. Now she was watching Teddy closely. The horse was shaking his he
ad and pawing the ground. “Maybe you should stay with Teddy, Phil. He’s still acting restless.”
At that moment Max came up. He looked concerned. “That’s right,” he said. “If you want a good ride tomorrow, it’s worth spending time with him tonight, Phil. If he has a bad night, he’ll be impossible to ride in the morning, and I’m counting on you to help supervise the trail ride.”
Phil looked disappointed, but he could hardly argue with Max. “Okay. Sure.”
“Stevie, why don’t you ask Carole for help?” Max said.
Stevie looked over at Carole, who was holding Starlight’s reins. “Do you want to come and gather firewood and start the fire?”
“Sure,” she replied. She gave Starlight’s reins to Max and looked around. “Seems to me we could use a couple of expert assistants.”
Carole went over to Amie and Jackie and said, “How would you like to help Stevie and me gather firewood and start a fire?”
Amie looked toward the woods. “I don’t know,” she said. Then she and Jackie exchanged glances. It was clear they didn’t want to go.
“It’ll be fun,” Carole promised. “We’ll talk.”
Amie and Jackie looked at each other again. Then Jackie said, “That’s okay. I think we better stay here and help.”
Carole’s face fell. Stevie, watching her, could tell that Carole felt terrible. Amie and Jackie had such a good time during the horse games that Carole must have thought that all her problems with them had disappeared. Now here they were, unenthusiastic about her again.
“Come on,” Stevie said, touching Carole’s arm. “We don’t want to wait too long. It’s getting dark.”
“Sure,” Carole said, turning to her. “We better do that. We wouldn’t want to eat cold hot dogs.”
“You forget how much work overnights are,” Stevie said as they headed toward the woods. “All the things you take for granted at home, like heat and light, you have to provide for yourself out here.”
“I don’t mind that,” Carole said. “I just wish Amie and Jackie were having fun.”
CAROLE AND STEVIE walked into a pine grove. The dried-up needles crunched under their boots.
“There’s one good thing about this overnight,” Stevie said.
High Horse Page 6
