Setting the Pace

by Bonnie Bryant

As she walked into her room, Lisa swept her eyes over the comfortable, familiar space. It had hardly changed at all since she had helped her mother decorate it years ago. She lingered lovingly over every inch of the muted, rose-toned floral fabric and wallpaper and clean white wicker. Her childhood dolls and stuffed animals were carefully lined up atop her tall dresser, and a pair of bookshelves held a collection of her favorite novels and schoolbooks, as well as a set of Pony Club manuals and other horse books, many of them gifts from Carole.

  Lisa tried to picture it all shoved into some dark, depressing little room somewhere in New Jersey, her favorite rag rug spread over ugly parquet or beige carpeting instead of wide wooden floorboards.

  “Ugh,” she said aloud.

  With a sigh, she walked over to her desk chair and flopped into it, feeling depressed. For a little while at the stable that day, she had actually started to feel a twinge of hope that things might work out somehow or other. Stevie had a way of bringing that out in people. But after a few minutes, even Stevie’s boundless optimism had started to rub her the wrong way.

  We aren’t kids anymore, she reminded herself, leaning her chin on her hand and staring fixedly at the wall. Back then, we thought we could find a way to fix any problem that came along. But the truth is, there are some things you just can’t change, no matter how much you want to.

  At that, her mind wandered to Alex. The deadline for their temporary breakup, New Year’s, was rapidly approaching, and she still wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. It still felt strange even to have to think about it—he was the first guy she’d ever really loved, and she still couldn’t quite believe it had come to this. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering whether or not she still wanted him in her life. Of course, if she was going to be moving to New Jersey in a week or two, the whole question could be moot.

  Noticing her diary lying on the edge of the desk, Lisa grabbed it and flipped it open. Picking up a pen, she began to write.

  Dear Diary,

  Another depressing day. Why can’t I have my old life back?

  She stopped and chewed on the end of her pen. She had already filled several pages with similar whining and complaining, and what good was it doing her? She’d be better off trying to be logical and mature, maybe figure out how to deal with things. She decided to make a list of pros and cons to give herself some perspective on her life. She started with the cons, since that seemed easier just at the moment.

  My life right now—Cons:

  I might have to move to New Jersey with Mom.

  I still don’t know what to do about Alex.

  I still don’t know how to feel about Scott.

  Mom and Dad are still on my case about college.

  Everything sucks.

  My life right now—Pros:

  Only a few months until I’m eighteen and can do whatever I want, legally.

  I’m not starving or paralyzed or homeless or terminally ill.

  Stevie and Carole will always be my best friends, no matter what.

  The last entry made her feel better, but only for a moment. Then she felt even worse. How could she move so far away from them? It just wasn’t fair. And no amount of pros or cons would change that.

  Tossing aside the diary, she walked over to her bed and flopped down on her stomach. She was tired. She’d tossed and turned for most of the night before, thinking about moving. With a yawn, she rolled over and grabbed her pillow, deciding she could use a nap.…

  Lisa awoke with a start. For a second she didn’t know where she was. Then she remembered. She’d been having some sort of weird dream. She and Carole and Stevie had all been kids again, back in the days when they were The Saddle Club, and they’d come up with a plan to stop Lisa’s mother from moving to New Jersey. For a second, Lisa felt tremendously happy.

  Then a knock came on her door and her mother stuck her head in. “Lisa?” she said, sounding vaguely annoyed. “Didn’t you hear me calling your?”

  Suddenly Lisa snapped back to the here and now, and her whole life came crashing down around her once again. Her problem wasn’t solved—not even close. The Saddle Club hadn’t ridden to the rescue, her mother hadn’t changed her mind, and Lisa didn’t get to stay in Willow Creek where she belonged. No, things were just as bad as ever, and no dream could change that.

  “Uh, sorry, Mom,” she mumbled, shaking her head to try to clear it. “What is it?”

  Mrs. Atwood started chattering about Aunt Marianne and New Jersey as Lisa blinked away the last few remnants of her dream. It was almost painful to recall how pitifully excited she’d been at the thought that she was saved. How could she have believed it could ever be that simple, even in a dream?

  She was so distracted that it took a moment or two to focus on what her mother was saying. “…and so I just called in and took a few days off.” Mrs. Atwood grimaced. “My boss gave me grief about that, of course, but who cares? It’s not like I’ll need that job much longer anyway.”

  “Wh-What are you talking about?” Lisa asked, trying to keep up. “Why did you take time off?”

  Mrs. Atwood sighed loudly. “Weren’t you listening?” she practically shouted. “I just told you. I’m going to drive up to Marianne’s for a few days. I want to take a look around the area, maybe talk to some real estate agents. You can come along if you like,” she added, her expression suddenly hopeful. “After all, you don’t have school this week. It could be the perfect opportunity for you to come up and help pick out where we should live.”

  Lisa frowned, finally focusing completely on what her mother was saying. “No thanks,” she snapped. “Unlike you, I don’t have any interest in visiting New Jersey at all.”

  “Well!” Mrs. Atwood looked slightly taken aback for a second. Then she returned Lisa’s frown. “With that attitude, you’re not going to have an easy time adjusting to your new home,” she said frostily.

  “Whatever,” Lisa muttered, knowing that she sounded like a sulky brat but not caring. Her mother deserved it. After all this time, did she really think she was ever going to convince Lisa that this moving idea was a good thing? Was she that clueless?

  Throwing her hands up and sighing loudly and dramatically, Mrs. Atwood stormed out of the room, leaving Lisa alone with her thoughts. Dream or no dream, it was time to face reality. And the reality was, her mother was serious about this. She wasn’t changing her mind. They were really going to move.

  THREE

  “Hanson,” Carole told the bored-looking college-aged girl behind the counter. “There should be two rolls.”

  The girl snapped her gum, then turned and lazily surveyed a rack behind her that was stuffed full of stiff white envelopes. “Henderson?” she asked.

  “Hanson,” Carole repeated patiently. “I dropped them off three days ago.”

  The girl grabbed two of the envelopes. “Carl Hanson?”

  “That’s it,” Carole said, hiding a smile. “Thanks. How much?”

  She quickly paid the girl, then took the film and hurried outside. Ripping open the first envelope, she pulled out a fat stack of photos. She flipped through them quickly, then went back to the beginning and examined them more slowly. Most of the photos had been taken at Pine Hollow, and many of them featured her and Cam. She gazed at those happily, running her eyes over his handsome physique and wondering just how she’d become the luckiest girl on the planet.

  I can’t believe this hot guy is really my boyfriend, she thought in amazement as she pulled up a photo of Cam grooming Starlight. I can’t believe he’s real, and he loves me, and we’re going steady.

  It really did seem hard to believe, especially now, after Cam had been out of town visiting relatives for several days. It felt like forever since he’d left. Still, the special shiver she felt down her spine when she remembered kissing him good-bye on Christmas Eve reminded Carole that this was for real.

  She pulled up the next photo. This one didn’t feature Cam at all. It was a picture Carole had taken more than a mont
h earlier, way back at the beginning of the roll. The photo showed Firefly, a flashy young mare that Max had recently added to the stable, trotting around the schooling ring with Ben Marlow in the saddle.

  Carole gulped as she automatically noted Ben’s flawless position and firm control of the flighty young horse. It had been so long since she’d seen him ride that she’d almost forgotten how good he was. In fact, it had been a long time since she’d seen much of Ben at all.

  It’s just because I haven’t been working at Pine Hollow since I got grounded, she reminded herself, quickly moving past that picture and several others taken at the same training session.

  Soon she came to another picture of Cam. She lingered over it for a moment, smiling at the funny expression on his face as he mugged for the camera.

  “I really am awfully lucky,” she murmured aloud.

  Realizing that her cheeks were starting to go numb from the cold, she stuffed the pictures back into their envelope and hurried toward her car, shivering. Her father would be expecting her home soon, and she still had one more errand to run.

  When she reached her car, she tossed the photo envelopes on top of her father’s dry cleaning, which was taking up most of the backseat. Then she climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, which muttered in protest at the cold. Turning down a narrow side street, she found a parking space near the entrance of Willow Creek Feed and Grain, a modest farm supply store tucked between an accountant’s office and the local VFW hall. It didn’t have nearly the selection of The Saddlery, the fancier tack shop at the mall, but it did carry some basic necessities, including the mineral block that she needed to pick up for Starlight.

  When she hurried into the store a moment later, she was surprised to spot a familiar face. Usually the only people she encountered at the feed store were crusty old farmers or 4-H’ers buying chicken or sheep pellets.

  “Callie?” she said. “Is that you? What are you doing here?”

  Callie spun around, looking startled. Dropping the nylon halter she was holding back onto the shelf, she ran a hand over her long blond hair and smiled, though it looked slightly forced. “Oh, hi, Carole,” she said. “Um, I was just browsing.”

  Carole cast an uncertain glance around the cramped, poorly lit store. It wasn’t really the kind of place that was set up for browsing. The shelves were sparsely stocked with prosaic items such as fencing supplies and poultry waterers, and aside from half a shelf of equine items—feed supplements, deworming paste, a few halters, and bell boots—there really wasn’t much to look at.

  Carole shrugged, deciding her friend’s shopping habits were her own business. Besides, there were more interesting things to talk about. “Are you going over to Pine Hollow after this?” she asked eagerly. “Or were you already there?”

  Callie didn’t answer for a moment, instead gazing at a stack of fly strips as if they were the most interesting things she’d ever seen. Finally, she lifted one shoulder slightly in a sort of half shrug. “I don’t think I’ll make it over there today.”

  “What?” Carole wondered if she’d misunderstood somehow. “But you haven’t been there in days, have you? I mean, Scooby—”

  “Scooby will live,” Callie said with a slight frown. “I’m just really busy right now, okay? Don’t worry, though, I called and asked them to turn him out this afternoon when it warms up a little.” She turned away again, clearly wanting to drop the subject.

  Carole wasn’t normally a pushy person, but she couldn’t just let it drop—not when there seemed to be a serious problem brewing between Callie and her new horse. Was Scooby not the mount she’d expected? Were they having some kind of personality clash, or maybe a training problem?

  “Listen, Callie,” she said sincerely. “I know it’s hard sometimes—you know, getting used to a new horse. You’ve been riding Barq a lot lately, and I’m sure Scooby is really different in a lot of ways. But maybe all you need is—”

  “All I need is to stop talking about this,” Callie interrupted, her voice as sharp as a blade. “Now, if you’ll excuse me …” She spun on her heel and left. Carole gaped after her, reeling from the icy retort. She knew that Callie had a temper, but this was the first time it had been leveled at her.

  What did I say? she wondered, feeling wounded and a little shaky. I was just trying to help.

  Still, she tried not to take it personally. If Callie was having trouble with Scooby, she needed her friends to stick by her. And now that she knew there might be a problem, Carole planned to do just that.

  “It’s the next driveway, there on the right,” Stevie said, pointing. “You can just drop me at the curb. It’s hard to turn around when Alex parks right in the middle of the driveway like that.” She rolled her eyes and grinned.

  “Okay,” George said, steering to the curb and shifting into park. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks a ton, George. Really.” Stevie unhooked her seat belt and turned to grab her duffel bag from the backseat. “I owe you one. I really wasn’t looking forward to walking home in this arctic blast.”

  “No problem,” George said with his usual timid smile.

  Stevie shivered as she opened the car door. She hadn’t been kidding about the arctic blast. The temperature had dropped several more degrees since she’d arrived at the stable that morning, and a brisk wind was blowing in from the northwest, making things even chillier. Hugging her duffel to her chest for warmth, she gave George one last quick wave and hurried toward the front door.

  That was nice of him to offer me a ride, she thought idly. Especially since he lives in the opposite direction.

  Still, that kind of lucky break was only what she would have expected after the great day she’d had. Except for the fact that neither Carole nor Callie had showed up at Pine Hollow all day, things had been practically perfect. Belle had kept herself pristinely clean in her stall for a change, so all Stevie had had to do was pick out her feet and run a body brush over her before tacking up. The spirited bay mare had performed like a dream, turning in picture-perfect canter departs and flying changes as if she’d been born doing them.

  After her ride, Stevie had spent a pleasant hour in the tack room with Lisa and Denise, chatting about the upcoming wedding as they cleaned tack together. It had taken all the self-discipline she possessed to keep from blurting out any hint of the fantastic wedding present she had planned. Finally Denise had been called away to the phone, and Stevie was able share it all with Lisa. She told her how she’d arranged for a fancy suite at a nice hotel downtown, with a champagne breakfast and a nice dinner in the hotel restaurant. Lisa had quickly volunteered to call around and reserve tickets to a show. It wasn’t what Stevie would consider a super-deluxe honeymoon, but she was sure Red and Denise would love it. And after talking it all over with Lisa, Stevie’s mood was better than ever.

  And the best part is, I have another five whole days until school starts again! she thought gleefully as she all but skipped up the front walk. She slowed her pace when her boot slipped on an icy patch, but even the frigid weather couldn’t dim her sunny mood.

  Then she entered her house. As soon as she let herself into the front hall, she wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?” she muttered as a sickly sweet, flowery odor tickled her nose. Tossing her coat and bag in the general direction of the closet, she hurried down the hall toward the kitchen.

  As soon as she rounded the corner, her mood plummeted. All three of her brothers were sitting at the kitchen table. And right in the middle, laughing and tossing her blond hair around, was Nicole Adams. Nicole was a classmate of Stevie’s at Fenton Hall, but the two of them had never been close. In fact, Stevie had barely had reason to speak to her before her twin brother had suddenly decided to ask her out. Nicole hung with a crowd of snobs who never debated anything deeper than whether the latest shade of lipstick looked good on redheads or which player on the basketball team had the cutest butt.

  “What are you doing here?” Stevie blurted out before sh
e could stop herself.

  Alex glared at her, but Nicole smiled sweetly. “Hi, Stevie,” she said. “How’s it going?”

  Michael and Chad mumbled something that may have been a greeting, though neither of them took his eyes off Nicole. Stevie frowned. “Hi,” she said shortly. She glared at Alex.

  He glared back. “Did you need something, Stevie?” he said. “We were having a conversation here.”

  “I’ll bet,” Stevie muttered.

  Alex scowled. “Stevie, could I speak to you for a minute?” he said through clenched teeth. “Privately?”

  “Whatever.” Stevie shrugged and followed him into the hall. She still couldn’t quite believe that Nicole was in her house. It was bad enough that Alex had gone out with her a few times—he was male, he’d been suckered in by her blond hair and tight sweaters, it was almost understandable—but to bring her home? What was he thinking?

  Alex whirled to face her as soon as they were out of earshot of the group in the kitchen. “Okay, what’s the big idea?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Stevie blinked. “Huh?” she said. “I was about to ask you the same question. What’s she doing here?”

  “I invited her to dinner,” Alex said rather stiffly. “Mom and Dad said it was okay.”

  Stevie goggled. “What?” she cried. “She’s eating here, with us? Talk about an appetite killer.”

  Alex scowled. “Very funny, Stevie,” he said. “But you’d better get it out of your system now. Because I don’t want you making any more snotty comments in front of Nicole. She’s supposed to be a guest here, remember? And you know how Mom and Dad feel about making guests welcome.”

  Stevie opened her mouth for a sharp retort, then bit it back and shook her head. “What are you thinking, anyway?” she asked, her tone subdued. “Aren’t you even the slightest bit worried that all this”—she waved her hand in the general direction of the kitchen—“is going to blow your chances of getting back together with Lisa?”

  Alex didn’t quite meet her eye. “What difference does it make?” he mumbled. “She’s probably moving to New Jersey soon, right? So it’s just as well.”