MEET
THE SADDLE CLUB
Horse lover CAROLE …
Practical joker STEVIE …
Straight-A LISA …
#1 HORSE CRAZY
#2 HORSE SHY
#3 HORSE SENSE
#4 HORSE POWER
#5 TRAIL MATES
#6 DUDE RANCH
#7 HORSE PLAY
#8 HORSE SHOW
#9 HOOF BEAT
#10 RIDING CAMP
#11 HORSE WISE
#12 RODEO RIDER
#13 STARLIGHT CHRISTMAS
#14 SEA HORSE
#15 TEAM PLAY
#16 HORSE GAMES
#17 HORSENAPPED
#18 PACK TRIP
#19 STAR RIDER
#20 SNOW RIDE
#21 RACEHORSE
#22 FOX HUNT
#23 HORSE TROUBLE
#24 GHOST RIDER
#25 SHOW HORSE
#26 BEACH RIDE
#27 BRIDLE PATH
#28 STABLE MANNERS
#29 RANCH HANDS
#30 AUTUMN TRAIL
#31 HAYRIDE
#32 CHOCOLATE HORSE
#33 HIGH HORSE
#34 HAY FEVER
#35 HORSE TALE
#36 RIDING LESSON
#37 STAGE COACH
#38 HORSE TRADE
#39 PUREBRED
#40 GIFT HORSE
#41 STABLE WITCH
#42 SADDLEBAGS
#43 PHOTO FINISH
#44 HORSESHOE
#45 STABLE GROOM
#46 FLYING HORSE
#47 HORSE MAGIC
#48 MYSTERY RIDE
#49 STABLE FAREWELL
#50 YANKEE SWAP
#51 PLEASURE HORSE
#52 RIDING CLASS
#53 HORSE-SITTERS
#54 GOLD MEDAL RIDER
#55 GOLD MEDAL HORSE
#56 CUTTING HORSE
#57 TIGHT REIN
#58 WILD HORSES
#59 PHANTOM HORSE
#60 HOBBYHORSE
#61 BROKEN HORSE
#62 HORSE BLUES
#63 STABLE HEARTS
#64 HORSE CAPADES
#65 SILVER STIRRUPS
#66 SADDLE SORE
#67 SUMMER HORSE
#68 SUMMER RIDER
#69 ENDURANCE RIDE
#70 HORSE RACE
#71 HORSE TALK
#72 HOLIDAY HORSE
#73 HORSE GUEST
#74 HORSE WHISPERS
#75 PAINTED HORSE
#76 HORSE CARE
#77 ROCKING HORSE
#78 HORSEFLIES
#79 ENGLISH HORSE
#80 ENGLISH RIDER
#81 WAGON TRAIL
#82 QUARTER HORSE
#83 HORSE THIEF
#84 SCHOOLING HORSE
#85 HORSE FEVER
THE SADDLE CLUB SUPER EDITIONS
#1 A SUMMER WITHOUT HORSES
#2 THE SECRET OF THE STALLION
#3 WESTERN STAR
#4 DREAM HORSE
#5 BEFORE THEY RODE HORSES
#6 NIGHTMARE
#7 CHRISTMAS TREASURE
THE END OF THE SADDLE CLUB?
Lisa and Stevie each knew what the other was thinking. They ought to have gone to Pine Hollow. Stevie spoke first. “Uh, I better hang up. My mom will be home soon, and I’ll be in big trouble if she thinks I watched TV all day.”
“I have to go, too,” Lisa said. “But, hey,” she added, remembering her new role as Stevie’s coach, “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early!”
After putting the phone down, Lisa stared up at her picture of The Saddle Club and their horses. Horse-crazy? she thought. They sure weren’t acting it. Willing to help each other out in any situation? While Carole was helping out, the two of them were sitting at home. “But we always help out!” Lisa wailed. “Why can’t someone else help out for a while?” The picture didn’t answer. It just stared back at her accusingly. How long would she and Stevie go, it seemed to ask, breaking both rules of The Saddle Club?
Other Skylark Books you will enjoy
Ask your bookseller for the books you have missed
CAMY BAKER’S HOW TO BE POPULAR IN THE SIXTH GRADE
by Camy Baker
CAMY BAKER’S LOVE YOU LIKE A SISTER by Camy Baker
ANNE OF GREEN GABLES by Lucy Maud Montgomery
HORSE CRAZY (The Saddle Club #1) by Bonnie Bryant
AMY, NUMBER SEVEN (Replica #1) by Marilyn Kaye
PURSUING AMY (Replica #2) by Marilyn Kaye
FOUL PLAY (Soccer Stars #1) by Emily Costello
RL 5, 009-012
HORSE FEVER
A Bantam Skylark Book / January 1999
Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.
“The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller. The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books.
“USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of The United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.
All rights reserved.
Copyright 1999 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.
eISBN: 978-0-307-82586-5
Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada.
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.
v3.1
I would like to express my special thanks
to Caitlin Macy for her
help in the writing of this book.
Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Other Skylark Books
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Excerpt from Pine Hollow #1: The Long Ride
About the Author
DIMLY, FROM FAR away, Stevie Lake heard a noise. A loud noise. A loud, insistent, blaring noise that might have been an alarm clock. Her alarm clock. It might have been. She couldn’t be sure, of course. It was probably better to ignore it. Who knows? Maybe it’ll go away. She rolled over in bed and clamped a pillow to her head. Unfortunately the blare seemed to get louder. Then another noise was added to it. It was the sound of yelling: boys’ yelling.
“Stevie! Stevie, wake up!”
“Stevie, we’re late!”
“Stevie, get up! You overslept!”
A hand on her arm jarred Stevie out of her half sleep. Blinking and rubbing her eyes, she struggled to sit up. What she saw was not her idea of a pleasant awakening: Her three brothers, Chad, Michael, and Alex, were standing beside her bed. “Stevie!” Alex cried, his voice desperate. “We’ve gotta hurry! We all overslept and we’re late for school!”
“You mean we—”
“The car
pool left without us!” Chad interrupted.
“Mom says we’ve gotta walk!” Michael cried.
Instantly Stevie’s mood changed from mild annoyance to utter panic. She had been late to school three times already—one more and she’d have to stay after. She sprang from her bed. “I’ll meet you downstairs in two minutes!” she yelled, shooing the boys out.
“All right, but hurry!” Alex urged again.
Thank God for brothers, Stevie thought, running to the closet. Now that she was awake she dimly remembered hitting the Snooze button—ten or eleven times.
Stevie threw open her closet doors. A gargantuan pile of dirty clothes spilled out—jeans, turtlenecks, socks, underwear, skirts, and blouses. She riffled through the mostly empty hangers in desperation. “My kingdom for some clean clothes!” she cried, charging out into the hall. If by some miracle she could find something in the dryer, she swore she would never, ever play a trick on her brothers again, never turn up her nose at broccoli—
“Watch where you’re going, Steph—!”
“Aaahhh!”
In her haste to get to the laundry room, Stevie ran smack-dab into her mother. Mrs. Lake put a settling hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “What’s your hurry, dear?”
“Oh, Mom, I’m in major trouble!” Stevie began. “I’m late for school and I can’t find anything to wear and—” In the middle of her breathless explanation, Stevie noticed something. Her mother was wearing a bathrobe. Stevie hardly ever saw her mother in a bathrobe. Mrs. Lake was always up and dressed before the rest of the family. She left for work when her children left for school. The only time she hung out in her bathrobe was on …
“Saturday!” Stevie screamed, a horrible realization dawning on her.
“Yes, dear, I know it’s Saturday,” Mrs. Lake began, “and we’re going to make cookies—” But Stevie was already halfway down the stairs.
“You’re dead meat!” she shrieked.
Chad, Michael, and Alex ran for cover in the basement. “Barricade the door!” Chad yelled.
Stevie stopped short as the door closed in her face. “You’re just lucky I didn’t start on the way to school!” she growled. “You’re dead as it is, but if I had walked to Fenton, you’d be even deader!”
On the other side of the door, Stevie’s brothers howled with laughter. “As if you could walk to school!” came Alex’s muffled voice. “It would take you so long the day would be over!”
Stevie’s eyes narrowed. There were some offenses that could not go unpunished. As she looked around for a suitable chair to use as a battering ram, her father appeared in the hallway. “Pssst! Come on!” he urged. “I got a dozen doughnuts and you can have first dibs!”
Stevie hesitated, watching her father disappear into the kitchen. She was trapped, caught between her desire to murder her twin, Alex, on the spot, and her desire to eat all the honey-dipped doughnuts and leave only the jelly ones for her brothers. Chad and Michael were as obnoxious as ever, but Alex … Lately Alex was even more insufferable. Ever since he had taken up track and basketball at Fenton, he was constantly going on about what great shape he was in. “You call that a sport!” he would say about horseback riding, Stevie’s athletic activity. It isn’t fair, Stevie thought grumpily. Riding gets no respect, fitness-wise. Everyone thinks you just sit there …
“Riding!” Stevie clapped a hand to her mouth, remembering. That was why her alarm had been set in the first place. She had a lesson that morning—a dressage lesson and the first lesson since Christmas. Warning of future vengeance on her siblings, she ran back up the stairs. Halfway up, though, she felt her energy sag. In her bedroom she sat down on the bed, fighting off the temptation to curl up under the covers. For some reason, she felt more like eating doughnuts, going back to sleep, making cookies with her mom—any and all of the above—than having a riding lesson. She dragged herself up and went over to the massive laundry pile. It was no surprise that each pair of jeans was filthier than the last, and that her sole pair of breeches was even worse. Riding all the time generated a lot of dirty clothes, and Mrs. Lake was adamant about her children doing their own laundry. With a sigh Stevie picked up the least offensive pair and went to the bathroom to sponge off the stains. Maybe, she thought grimly, this is what they mean by waking up on the wrong side of the bed. It sure felt like it, anyway. She was tired before the day had even started!
LISA ATWOOD HAD her nose in a book. She could hear her mother honking in the driveway, but she ignored it. If she could just get to the end of chapter three … The horn sounded again, more insistent this time. With a loud, long-suffering sigh, Lisa slapped shut To Kill a Mockingbird. She grabbed her gloves off the side table and ran for the car. “Coming, Mom!”
Riding over to Pine Hollow, Lisa gave in to her bad mood. Here it was, Christmas vacation, and she had more homework than ever. Lately the teachers seemed to view vacation as an excuse to heap on more work. It made it so that even homework she normally would have enjoyed, like reading To Kill a Mockingbird, became a chore.
And naturally, just when Lisa was feeling swamped at school, her mother started piling on the tasks at home. “… and you need to get a haircut,” Mrs. Atwood was saying. “You also need to exchange the dress Aunt Meg and Uncle Bob gave you. And have you written your thank-you notes yet?”
“No,” Lisa muttered grumpily. Only her mother would ask a question like that so soon after the holiday!
“But you’ll start them today?” Mrs. Atwood prompted.
“Yes, Mom,” Lisa said wearily.
“Good,” said her mother, looking pleased. “Don’t forget Mrs. Chambers. She gave you the needlepoint kit.”
Lisa let out a loud sigh. The winter before, she had learned embroidery to please her mother. This year her mother’s friend Mrs. Chambers had given her a needlepoint kit. Would the arts and crafts never end?
“What’s wrong, dear? I thought you liked needlepoint. And this pattern is so cute, right up your alley with the horse heads and the blue ribbons. Celeste was so nice to pick it out specially for you.”
Lisa did have to admit she liked the pattern. And she was pretty good at needlepoint. But right now it just felt like another chore.
“You could finish it and give it to one of your friends for her birthday,” Mrs. Atwood persisted.
“That’s a good idea,” Lisa said to satisfy her mother. It would certainly be an unusual gift. Stevie or Carole would never be caught dead doing needlepoint!
“Now what about the haircut? When should I make your appointment? I hope Charles can fit you in before school starts. Of course,” Mrs. Atwood added pointedly, “it would be easier if you didn’t spend every waking moment at Pine Hollow …”
Lisa was too tired to argue with her mother’s favorite complaint. The truth was, Lisa knew how much easier her life would have been if she hadn’t been totally horse-crazy. She would have had more time for homework, more time for school activities, more time to relax, even. And relaxing, as Lisa had learned the hard way, was an important “activity” for an overachiever like herself.
“I’ll tell you what,” Mrs. Atwood remarked. “I have an appointment today. It’s my weekly wash and style. Why don’t you take it, dear? I can skip a week; my hair ought to hold out all right. I could pick you up right after your lesson, on my way back from the supermarket. How does that sound?” Lisa’s mother looked expectantly at her.
Lisa opened her mouth to protest, but then she stopped. Normally she and her two best friends, Stevie Lake and Carole Hanson, hung out at Pine Hollow after their lessons. They would clean tack, fuss over their horses, and help out with whatever work needed to be done around the barn. Today, the first Saturday after Christmas, there would be lots of work. Their instructor and the owner of the stables, Max Regnery, probably had a list of chores a mile long. Or if he didn’t, his mother, Mrs. Reg, would. Mrs. Reg could always find things for the girls to do. For some reason the thought annoyed Lisa that morning. Maybe, she thought defensively,
I just don’t feel like cleaning tack today. For a moment she allowed herself to visualize her other option: sitting in a salon chair having her hair washed. Soaking in the ambience at Cosmo Cuts. Flipping through the teen magazines her mother never let her buy. The picture brought a smile to her lips. She could get the special conditioning treatment, the cut and style, the blow-dry …
Lisa never skimped, not on anything, especially not on anything to do with horses. If she had, she wouldn’t have been a member of The Saddle Club, the group she, Stevie, and Carole had started. Still, her friends would understand if she had to leave early just this once. “All right, Mom,” she said before she had time to feel guilty, “that sounds good.”
CAROLE HANSON WAS the first member of The Saddle Club to arrive at Pine Hollow. She almost always was. Even though all three girls were horse-crazy—being horse-crazy and being willing to help one another out were the two requirements of the club—Carole was a bit crazier. She was passionate about horses. Per her request, her father had dropped her off a full hour before the lesson was to begin.
After giving her horse, Starlight, a good grooming, Carole headed to the tack room to get the gelding’s saddle and bridle, whistling on the way. She had an entire day to spend at the barn, and she couldn’t wait to saddle up. She was going to give Starlight a nice long warm-up to get the kinks out before their dressage lesson. Starlight had been given a few days off over Christmas, and Carole knew he would have some extra energy. If she didn’t work it off before the lesson, he would be skittish in front of Max. Carole always knew when the gelding was going to act up. She knew his faults to a tee—which wasn’t surprising, since she had trained him. It was part of what made them such great partners.
The tack room was empty and quiet. Carole was about to load up with tack when something caught her eye. It was the new edition of Horseman’s Weekly. She sat down on a tack trunk to take a quick peek. She liked to thumb through the paper. First she would skim the horse show results to see if she recognized any names. Then she would read “Pony Club News.” Finally she would take the horseman’s quiz at the back.
This week’s issue was pretty slim, though. It was January, so there weren’t many competitions to cover. Ditto “Pony Club News.” And the quiz was too easy. As if, Carole thought indignantly, there was anyone out there who didn’t know that the walk had four beats; the trot, two; and the canter, three. Please! Idly Carole scanned the “Hunt Club News” and the advertisements. She didn’t usually bother with the ads. She wasn’t looking for a horse, after all. But they could be interesting to read. It was fun to imagine what kind of person would be looking for what kind of horse.
Horse Fever Page 1
