WHEN STEVIE FINALLY stopped to think about it calmly, a few days after Chad had started at the stable, she realized that she was going to be too busy there to pay much attention to her brother—and that he was going to be well-occupied, too.
“You know,” she said to Carole as they were sitting on the bench in the tack room, cleaning tack, “I’d forgotten how much the beginners have to learn.” She tugged at the bridle she was cleaning. While she was trying to get accumulated dirt off the leather, one of the stable’s kittens was chasing the throatlatch, which dangled invitingly from the bridle. Stevie swished it across the floor. The kitten pounced on it happily.
“There’s a lot of information beginners have got to master just to ride safely—even at a walk,” Carole agreed.
“You sound like a professor when you talk that way,” Stevie told her, grinning. “Actually, all I care about is for Max to keep Chad so busy he can’t get in my hair.”
“Room for one more?” Lisa asked, entering the tack room.
“You bet there is,” Stevie said, welcoming her. “Mrs. Reg seems to think every piece of leather in the place is dirty. That’s about forty saddles—not counting the special ones—and of course, they need cleaning, too.”
“I’ll get a fresh dish of water and a sponge for myself. Make room for me on the bench, will you?”
“Sure!” Carole said, scooting over. “Don’t complain, though—I want to have all the tack clean by this weekend.”
“What’s so special about this weekend?” Stevie asked. “The three-day event and the gymkhana aren’t for another couple of weeks—how many hours, Lisa?”
“Um, exactly—I don’t remember,” she confessed as she joined her friends on the bench. She sat down, picking up a bridle of her own. The kitten who had been chasing Stevie’s bridle jumped up on the bench near Lisa. She patted its soft fur and then set the animal back down on the floor. The kitten then seemed confused about which bridle to attack. “Oh, they are cute, aren’t they? If only I thought Dolly would put up with a kitten …” Lisa said, referring to her dog, a Lhasa apso. “But she’s too set in her ways now. Anyway, we were talking about this weekend. What’s the rush on cleaning tack?”
“Well, I’m going to bring Kate Devine here on Saturday,” Carole explained.
“You think she’ll be inspecting the tack?” Stevie asked, glancing at Carole.
Carole just glared at her. Stevie decided that meant that Carole did think Kate would care. Stevie found that hard to imagine.
“Speaking of Kate,” Stevie began. “Meg Durham and Polly Giacomin were asking me about her this morning.”
“Why didn’t they ask me?” Carole said, surprised.
“They wanted to know who she was and how come she was so famous. Since you’ve been talking about her so much, they were embarrassed that they hadn’t heard of her. Meg thought maybe Kate Devine was some kind of superstar—”
“Oh, but she is,” Carole began. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for anyone to become a championship rider? I mean, that’s hours and hours of studying over years and years, including hard physical work, to say nothing of the horse care involved—and then the tension of the competition—and the thrill of victory …” Carole got a dreamy look on her face as her voice trailed off.
Stevie and Lisa exchanged glances, winking at each other. Carole was like that. She was their friend and they were more than willing to accept her hang-ups. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t share a grin about them from time to time.
“You know, Carole, I’ve been thinking about the costume race in the gymkhana. Do you think you could get a Marine Corps uniform from your father? That would be neat, especially if it had a lot of buttons some other team had to do up.”
“Oh, sure,” Carole said, returning abruptly from her daydream. “He’s got some junky old ones we can use. The only thing he’ll insist on is that we remove the Marine Corps emblems before using it for games.”
“Guess what I heard,” Lisa said. “Max is going to make up the gymkhana teams next week. He’s just got to let us be on a team together.”
“It probably depends on having evenly matched teams,” Carole reminded her.
“Well, I’ve had my fingers crossed,” Stevie said. “But it makes it awfully difficult to ride that way!”
Carole and Lisa both burst into laughter at Stevie’s joke. Their noise frightened the kitten into retreat.
“I hear more talk than tack cleaning going on in there,” Mrs. Reg called from her office next to the tack room. She leaned across her desk so she could see the girls. Stevie could tell Mrs. Reg was trying to look stern. She wasn’t very good at it.
Mrs. Reg was Max’s mother. When her husband had died and her son had taken over management of the stable, she had continued being in charge of the stable’s equipment, as she had done for half a century. She also sometimes served as substitute mother to the young riders when one was called for and she was always full of stories about horses and riders. The students at Pine Hollow claimed that Mrs. Reg had a story for every possible circumstance. She’d seen it all—or at least she said she had.
“Mrs. Reg,” Stevie said. “Give us a break. We’re working very hard. It’s just that there’s so much to talk about.”
“I know, I know,” she said, relenting and stepping into the tack room from her office. “We once had a rider here—oh, it was before you girls were born …”
Mrs. Reg had found the surest way to have the girls stop chitchatting among themselves—not that she really cared. Stevie suspected that sometimes Mrs. Reg would pretend to chide them about one thing or another when she actually just wanted an excuse to tell a story. It was okay as far as Stevie was concerned. Stevie reached forward to the tin of saddle soap and rubbed her sponge on the soap until she’d worked up a lather.
Mrs. Reg joined the girls on the bench and went on. “This woman, I’ve forgotten her name, was the kind that really kept to herself. She rode here often, and even took lessons from Max. My husband, Max, that is. Not your Max, as you sometimes call him. Anyway, this woman rode here and did chores here, just the same way you girls do, but she never said anything to anybody. Never made friends at all. Too bad.” Mrs. Reg stopped talking. The girls were surprised because she sounded as if she were finished with her story, but it didn’t seem to be an ending.
“What do you mean by ‘too bad’?” Carole asked after a few seconds.
“I mean it was too bad she never talked to anybody,” Mrs. Reg said, as if that were an explanation.
“So, what happened?” Stevie asked.
Mrs. Reg looked at the girls’ faces and apparently realized that the ending wasn’t clear. “What happened is that she stopped riding. See, she didn’t have any friends. Riding is a friendly sport and if you never talk with anybody about it, you’re missing half the fun.”
“Boy, can I understand that,” Stevie said. “Does that mean we should talk with one another whenever we want to?”
“It does not,” Mrs. Reg announced. “Now, finish up. Max told me you three were going to talk to the beginner class about the gymkhana. I’m sure they’re almost ready for you now.”
“Yes’m,” Carole said. Mrs. Reg returned to her desk, and the girls put the cleaning gear back on the shelves.
“Mrs. Reg is something, isn’t she?” Lisa asked as they walked toward the beginner class.
“She sure is,” Stevie said. “But sometimes I wish it were clearer exactly what she was saying.”
“You understood that story, didn’t you?” Carole asked Lisa.
“Easy!” Lisa chimed in. “I think she was saying it was okay to talk, even if the rule says we aren’t supposed to, because being friends is important. So it must be your favorite kind of rule, Stevie. It’s the kind you’re supposed to break!”
Stevie laughed. Her friends knew her well. She felt very sorry for that woman who had given up riding because she didn’t have friends. She had missed out on two of the best thin
gs in the world.
“ARE YOU SURE you know what you’re doing?” Lisa asked.
“Absolutely,” Stevie responded with total confidence. “I’ve done this lots.” She combed some styling mousse into Lisa’s damp hair. Then she separated a small section, held it straight up, and rolled it onto a curler. “See, the first thing you have to do is to give the hair some body—curl, I mean—then you can style it anyway you want.”
Lisa’s eyes met Stevie’s in the mirror. They were filled with doubt.
“Trust me,” Stevie said reassuringly.
“Those are the very words the executioner said to Marie Antoinette,” Carole teased. She was watching the entire procedure from a safe distance away, on her bed. It was Friday night and The Saddle Club girls were enjoying their sleepover at Carole’s house. Carole was observing her friend’s makeover, but her mind kept jumping to Kate Devine’s much-anticipated visit the next day.
“Some help you are,” Stevie complained. “Here Lisa is, nervous as a cat about her new look, and you try to tell her I’m an executioner? Thanks.”
“Well, let’s face it,” Carole said. “Marie Antoinette’s new hairdo was permanent—”
“Yuck, what a thought!” Lisa squirmed in her seat.
“I’m just joking,” Carole said.
“Yeah? Well, if you were sitting where I am, you wouldn’t think it was so funny.”
“No, I guess not! I’m sorry. I was actually thinking about Kate.”
“Well, that’s okay,” Stevie said. “I’ve been thinking about her, too. Do you think she’d let me try a new style on her hair?”
Carole grinned, imagining Stevie doing Kate’s hair “I don’t know. You could ask her. Oh, guess what—the original King Kong is on TV tonight. I asked Dad if we could watch it and he said okay.”
“It’s only from eight to ten,” Stevie said. “How come you had to ask his permission?”
“It wasn’t getting his permission to watch it,” Carole explained. “It was getting his okay to watch it without him. See, it’s one of his favorite movies.”
“Your dad’s a pretty neat guy,” Stevie said. “And I’m sure he knows better than to try to join in on our pajama party. That’s much better than at my house where we’d be fighting off three boys.” As she finished speaking, she fastened the final curler with a clip, folded her hands neatly in front of her, and bowed politely, waiting for applause.
Carole clapped. Lisa was about to and then thought better of it. “I think I’ll wait until I see the final result,” she teased.
“If it’s really weird, will you show it to your mother?” Stevie asked, turning a blow-dryer on and aiming it at the curlers.
“If it’s really weird, I’ll wash it out,” Lisa said.
“Ah, Lisa the A student,” Stevie joked. “Always has a solution to every problem. Is that why you wouldn’t let me do the frosting?”
“Well, that’s one of the reasons,” Lisa said evasively.
“You have no faith in me,” Stevie said in mock hurt.
“That’s one way to put it,” Lisa joked. Then she glanced at her watch. “Come on, hurry up, it’s almost eight o’clock. Time for King Kong. ‘ ’Twas beauty killed the beast,’ ” she quoted, her voice suddenly deep and ominous.
“Boy, I love that movie,” Carole said.
“Me, too,” Stevie agreed. “Do we have time to make popcorn?”
“There’s always time for popcorn,” Carole assured her, heading for the kitchen. “You go and turn on the TV. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“OH, THAT POOR monster,” Carole wailed two hours later, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Can you imagine? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? How can people be so cruel to animals? Weren’t there any animal-rights people around?” she demanded.
“It really is awful what people can do sometimes, isn’t it?” Lisa joined in while she and Carole tidied up the kitchen, putting their bowls and glasses in the dishwasher.
“You guys!” Stevie chimed in from the den, where she was replacing the pillows and picking up stray pieces of popcorn. “It’s only a movie!”
“I know it’s only a movie,” Carole said, calming down. “But it reminds me how people sometimes just use animals without remembering that they have minds and feelings, too.”
“Maybe when you grow up, instead of owning a horse farm, you’ll be an animal-rights activist,” Lisa suggested.
“Maybe I’ll be an animal-rights activist in addition to owning a horse farm,” Carole countered, leading Lisa to the stairs.
“And in addition to being a vet? And a trainer?” Stevie asked, meeting them at the landing.
“I don’t think I’m ready to make up my mind,” Carole said. “I just know I want to be with horses. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. What about you guys? You going to be a beautician?” she asked Stevie with a grin.
“We’ll see about that,” Lisa said, patting the curlers to see if her hair was dry. It was. “Do your thing!” she said to Stevie.
Carole hauled the sleeping bags out of the closet and arranged them on the floor while Stevie prepared to comb out Lisa’s light brown hair. When the sleeping bags were laid out, Carole perched on the edge of her bed to watch the unveiling. Carefully, Stevie unrolled each curler, figuring Lisa’s hair would wave gently to her shoulders, but that wasn’t what happened at all. As each curler was removed, the hair bounced right back into a tight curl, as if the curler were still there.
“Is this okay?” Lisa asked dubiously.
“Oh, sure,” Stevie said, but the look on her face showed concern. When the final curler was removed, she took Lisa’s hairbrush and began smoothing out the curls. Each time she brushed through Lisa’s hair, the curls rewound into their coils.
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Lisa said. “This isn’t what you had in mind, was it?”
Stevie was doing everything she could to keep a straight face, brushing more and more vigorously at the tight curls, but when it became clear that it wasn’t going to work—that Lisa’s hair was determined to stay tightly coiled—she could contain it no longer. She simply exploded into giggles.
For a second, Carole was afraid Lisa was going to be angry with Stevie, but looking at herself in the mirror, Lisa quickly joined Stevie. While she laughed, she bounced her head up and down, watching each curl behave like a Slinky.
“It’s just not me,” she said between giggles.
“It’s certainly different,” Carole said, joining in the laughter. “Maybe if you sleep on it—” she suggested.
“I think I’ll wet it down first,” Lisa said. “And, the whole time I’m wetting it down, I’m going to be thankful I didn’t let you frost it!”
“Me, too,” Stevie said, giggles subsiding. “Want me to help you wet it?”
Lisa gave her a sidelong glance. “No thanks!” she said airily, heading for the bathroom. That got Carole and Stevie laughing again.
By the time Lisa returned, wet-headed and straight-haired, Carole and Stevie were climbing into their sleeping bags. Lisa retreated to hers, a dry towel on the pillow to protect it from the dampness of her hair. Carole turned out the light and the girls settled in for some serious talking.
“I just can’t wait to see Kate again,” Carole began.
“She must be neat,” Stevie said.
“Oh, yes, she is! And she’s different, somehow, too.”
“Different from whom?” Lisa asked.
“Everybody,” Carole said. “She seems so sure of herself, so confident. But it’s not off-putting, if you know what I mean.”
“I guess you have to be pretty sure of yourself if you’re going to be in tough competitions like she has,” Lisa observed.
“I guess you do,” Carole said. “But she’s not snooty, like you might think she could be.”
“We’ll see for ourselves soon enough,” Stevie said.
“Just about twelve hours from now,” Lisa piped in.
“I can’t wa
it,” Carole said again.
“So we heard,” Lisa said.
“Have I been talking about her too much?” Carole asked. Lisa could hear the hurt in Carole’s voice and was ashamed of herself for her thoughtless remark.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,” she said, trying to comfort Carole. “I was just teasing. But—”
“But what?” Carole asked.
“Sometimes you do go on a bit,” Lisa said. “But it’s okay. It’s you and that’s the way you are—like how you sometimes lecture a bit on horse care. That’s okay, too, because your friends really learn from you, you know? So now you’re excited about Kate—”
“Sure I’m excited about her arriving, but maybe I’m talking about it so much because, in a way, I’m dreading it, too.”
“You could fool me!” Stevie said. “Why are you nervous?”
“Well, it’s that thing about how I kept sort of giving her that beginner lesson in horses last week—and then I learn that she’s an expert! What do you suppose she thinks of me? I made such an idiot of myself!”
“You’re not an idiot,” Lisa assured her. “And besides, the big question here is, why didn’t she tell you? It’s not as if she could have just expected you to know about her blue ribbons—”
“Not just blue ribbons,” Carole interrupted. “She’s got to have a roomful of silver cups!”
“But she couldn’t expect you to know about them. So why?”
“I don’t know why, but I do know what. The what is that as soon as I see her tomorrow, I have to apologize.”
“I bet she apologizes first,” Stevie said.
“What does she have to apologize for?” Carole asked. “She didn’t make a fool out of herself.”
“No, but she made you feel embarrassed, and that’s worse,” Lisa said. “If she’s as nice as you say, there’s got to be a reason. The big mystery for tomorrow is going to be finding it out.”
“Maybe,” Carole said.
Lisa could tell, though, that she still felt bad about the whole mix-up. But they couldn’t solve the mystery until Kate arrived. In the meantime, Lisa had to get Carole’s mind off it. “Time to change the subject,” she announced. “Anybody have something else to talk about?”
Horse Power Page 4
