Ground Training
Pine Hollow, Book Ten
Bonnie Bryant
My special thanks to Catherine Hapka for her help in the writing of this book.
ONE
I don’t think I can do this. Do I really have to? There must be another way, Carole Hanson thought as she pushed open one of the big double wooden doors of Pine Hollow Stables. She automatically took a deep breath, inhaling the warm, familiar hay-scented air. How am I ever going to survive this day?
She figured she must have asked herself the same question at least a thousand times since the previous afternoon, hearing it echo inside her head over and over again like an important plot point in a bad made-for-TV movie. But asking the question didn’t bring her any closer to an answer. It didn’t make it any easier to do what she had to do.
Today was the day I was going to mix the feed for the week, as usual, she thought as she walked slowly across the wide stable entryway. And update the boarder files. And start planning the Thanksgiving holiday exercise schedule. And maybe get in a nice long training session with Firefly. But instead—
“Carole!” Stevie’s familiar voice broke into her thoughts.
Carole turned and saw her best friends, Stevie Lake and Lisa Atwood, coming toward her from one of the stable aisles. Noting Lisa’s melancholy expression, Carole suddenly felt a new pang, one that had nothing to do with her own problems. The day before, while Carole and Stevie and most of the other Pine Hollow regulars were at a horse show, one of Pine Hollow’s most beloved residents—a beautiful Thoroughbred mare named Prancer—had died. Prancer had been Lisa’s favorite mount for years, and while everyone at the stable was shocked and saddened by the sudden loss, Carole knew the tragedy was hitting Lisa harder than anyone else.
“Hi,” Carole said, forgetting about everything but Lisa’s grief as she waited for her friends to reach her. She kept her gaze trained on Lisa’s face. “How are you?”
Lisa did her best to smile. “I’ve been better,” she said, pushing her silky blond hair behind one ear. She glanced around the entryway, which was deserted except for the three girls. “It’s weird. Being here, I mean. It makes me think that it can’t possibly be true—she can’t really be gone.” She paused, swallowed hard, and blinked a few times. “But at the same time, I guess I’m starting to realize that she is. It’s not a bad dream, and I’m not going to wake up and find out she’s still alive.”
Stevie put an arm around Lisa’s shoulders and squeezed briefly. “I know. I think it’s just starting to hit home for all of us. But we’ll all get through this together. Remember, you have a lot of friends who want to help. You don’t have to do this alone.”
As she spoke, Stevie forced herself to keep a calm, reassuring expression on her face, even though she wanted to bawl like a baby whenever she thought about Prancer. She was doing her best to stay as upbeat and supportive as possible. She couldn’t remember a time when her two best friends had needed her more, and she wanted to do everything in her power to help them through their problems. The only trouble with that plan was that there didn’t seem to be much that she could do, aside from letting them know that she cared.
It’s not easy staying strong for them, she thought sadly. Not when I can’t seem to stop thinking about how Prancer looked yesterday—so helpless, like every breath was a struggle—and then remembering how alive she looked that day so many years ago when we saw her race … or all the shows when she competed her heart out for Lisa … or just the everyday sort of stuff, like how she used to nip at Belle on the trail when she got too close, or how she’d switch her tail back and forth whenever you scratched her in the right spot on her neck.…
Stevie felt herself getting teary as she thought about all the great years they’d spent with Prancer, all the ways she’d been such an important part of their lives. She swiped at her eyes, making sure that Lisa and Carole didn’t see.
And somehow, she thought, glancing at Lisa again, it makes it even harder to know that Lisa thought Prancer was finally going to be all hers, and now she’s gone for good.
It didn’t seem fair somehow. Just recently, Lisa’s father had arranged to buy Prancer from Max Regnery, the owner of Pine Hollow. He’d been planning to surprise Lisa with the mare as a very special gift for her high-school graduation in the spring. But Lisa had found out the secret early, and Stevie knew she’d been thrilled at the idea of owning the gentle mare she loved so much. Of finally having Prancer all to herself. And now Prancer was gone. No, it really didn’t seem fair at all.
“Stevie’s right.” Carole spoke up, putting a hand on Lisa’s arm. “Just let us know if there’s anything we can do.”
Carole’s comment snapped Stevie’s mind out of the past and back to Carole’s situation. She was still trying to figure out how to feel about that. I never would have guessed she was capable of cheating on a test, she thought, glancing at Carole out of the corner of her eye.
It was a strange thought. Carole was one of Stevie’s best friends, and she knew her about as well as she knew anyone. How could something like this happen without her even being aware of it?
I guess everyone makes mistakes, she thought. It’s just that I never thought Carole would make this particular kind of mistake. Flunking a test because she got too caught up with horses—that I’d have no trouble believing. But cheating on a test? It’s no wonder her dad freaked out. It’s not something any of us would have expected from her in a quadrillion years.
“So what did the colonel say after you got home yesterday?” she asked Carole tentatively. “I hope he didn’t pull the same thing as my parents did—you know, keeping me in suspense about how long I’m grounded.”
Carole kicked at a stray clod of dirt on the stable floor. “No,” she said. “That’s not Dad’s way. He wants me to know exactly how long I’m going to be stuck in the brig.”
Stevie nodded. Carole’s father, Colonel Hanson, had served in the Marine Corps for many years before his recent retirement. He somehow managed to be easygoing and extremely precise at the same time. “So what’s the damage?”
“New Year’s,” Carole said softly.
Stevie winced. It was no worse than she’d been expecting, but still, it was practically impossible to believe. Carole had lived and breathed horses for as long as Stevie had known her. Even back in their junior-high days, when Stevie, Carole, and Lisa had formed a group called The Saddle Club so that they’d have an excuse to talk about horses as much as possible, Carole had stood out as the horse-craziest member of the trio. It was almost unthinkable that Carole would have to spend the next month and a half away from the stable, riding, her job—everything she cared about most.
Suddenly noticing that Lisa was staring off blankly into space, Stevie cleared her throat, searching for a way to distract her. It had been Stevie’s idea to drag Lisa to Pine Hollow that day—she’d hoped it might make it easier for Lisa to face her grief and start to move on. Besides that, Stevie was afraid that if Lisa got in the habit of staying away from the stable, even for a little while, the habit just might stick now that Prancer was gone. And Stevie definitely didn’t want that to happen. But now that Lisa was there, Stevie felt responsible for keeping her friend from sinking too deep into despair. “I feel for you, Carole, believe me,” she said a little too loudly. “I’ve been grounded for so long I’ve practically forgotten what the mall looks like. Not to mention old what’s-his-name—you know, my boyfriend …” She pretended to think hard for a moment. “Is it Bill? Or maybe Will.”
Lisa chuckled, though Stevie couldn’t help thinking it sounded a bit forced. “Don’t worry. Even if you’ve forgotten Phil, I’m sure he hasn’t come close to forgetting you,” she joked weakly. “Besides, I’m sure your parents
will unground you soon. It’s been a while since the party.”
Stevie sighed wistfully as she thought about her boyfriend, Phil Marsten. It really had been a long time since the two of them had been free to go to the movies or just hang out whenever they felt like it. Still, she was trying to look on the bright side. “Actually, I don’t want to jinx myself or anything, but I think Mom and Dad are actually starting to ease up some. They said okay right away when I asked if I could come here to visit Belle today.” She shrugged. “I mean, I’m definitely not totally off the most wanted list yet, but I can tell they’re weakening. Losing their taste for cracking the whip. Before you know it, I’ll be a free agent again.”
Carole smiled slightly, and Stevie caught a faint twinkle in her dark eyes. “That’s just like you, Stevie,” Carole said. “Always the optimist.” She checked her watch and her expression sobered again. “Um, listen, I’d better get going,” she said quietly. “Dad’s expecting me home pretty soon, and I still have to talk to Max. And I really want to visit with Samson a little bit first.”
Stevie gulped. She had almost forgotten about Samson. “Okay,” she said. “Lisa and I were just on our way out anyway. We already stuffed Belle so full of carrots she can hardly move.” She paused. “Um, good luck. With Max, I mean.”
“Thanks.” Giving a listless half wave, Carole turned and headed for the stable aisle.
With a worried sigh, Stevie watched her walk away. When she returned her attention to Lisa, she saw that she was once again staring blankly into space.
“Poor Carole,” Stevie said. “Can you believe all this happened? And right before her birthday, too.”
Lisa blinked. “Her birthday,” she repeated blankly. “I almost forgot about that. I mean, I remembered last week, but …” She cleared her throat. “It’s tomorrow, isn’t it? What are we going to do to celebrate?”
“I don’t know,” Stevie admitted. “Somehow I don’t think the colonel’s going to approve any kind of big blowout right now. He may not even let us come over and do the candle-on-a-cupcake thing.” She shrugged. “At least you’ll get to see her at school.” Lisa and Carole both attended Willow Creek High, while Stevie attended Fenton Hall, a private school across town from the public school.
“Only between classes,” Lisa reminded her. “We don’t even have lunch together this year.”
Stevie nodded. Like her, Carole was a junior, a year behind Lisa. “Well, I guess it’s pretty much a given that this year won’t go down in history as one of Carole’s greatest birthdays or anything,” she said, running a hand distractedly through her thick, dark blond hair. “Still, maybe we can think of some way to mark the occasion.”
“Maybe.” Lisa didn’t sound too sure about that.
Stevie decided not to dwell on it. “Okay, time to motor,” she said as brightly as she could. “I don’t want to push my luck with Mom and Dad. I figure if I play the model prisoner for a few more days, they’ll be ready to start talking parole. So are you ready to go? I’ll drop you off.”
“I think I’ll stay for a few more minutes. There’s something I want to do.”
“Do you want me to stay, too?” Stevie asked. “I’m sure a few minutes won’t totally blow my case with the ’rents.”
Lisa knew that Stevie was trying to help, and she loved her for it. But she also knew that there was something she had to do now that even her best friends couldn’t help her with. “Thanks,” she said. “But you go ahead. I’ll be okay.”
Stevie looked a little doubtful, but she nodded. “Call me later, okay? I’m not promising the wardens will let me chat, but…”
Lisa nodded and said good-bye to her friend. As soon as Stevie had disappeared through the door, she turned and crossed the entryway, heading for the farther arm of the U-shaped stable aisle. She couldn’t help noticing that Pine Hollow seemed quiet for a weekend morning, and she guessed that people were sleeping in after all the previous day’s excitement. Several Pine Hollow riders had participated in a big horse show, and a lot of people had attended the show to cheer them on. Now Lisa was glad of the solitude—she wasn’t in the mood for socializing. She walked down the aisle, following the familiar path to Prancer’s stall. She did her best to prepare herself, but even so, it gave her a tiny jolt when she reached the door and saw that the stall was swept clean, the water bucket and hayrack empty, the overhead lightbulb switched off to conserve energy.
Grabbing the edge of the half door for support, Lisa forced herself to take a good long look at the empty stall. This was the sight she’d been dreading, the reason she had resisted at first when Stevie had turned up at her doorstep an hour earlier to drag her to Pine Hollow. As long as she didn’t have to look at the vacated stall, she wouldn’t really have to believe that it was true—that Prancer was gone. It was the sight that Lisa had tried not to imagine the entire time she was watching Stevie feed her own horse, Belle, pieces of carrot. But she hadn’t been able to stop herself from remembering the dainty, precise way Prancer used to pick up individual carrot chunks from her own palm. Sometimes the mare had managed to work her way through a dozen pieces of carrot without doing more than brushing Lisa’s hand with the whiskers on her lips.
She was totally different when it came to apples, though, Lisa thought with a wistful smile. She used to slurp those up so fast I’d have horse slobber up to my shoulder by the time she was finished.
Hardly aware of what she was doing, Lisa unlatched the stall door and slipped inside. The hard-packed dirt floor felt strange beneath her feet without its usual cushion of deep, soft straw. A few specks of dust floated in the beam of sunlight coming through the high, narrow window in the back wall.
Lisa reached out and touched the battered manger, the one that Prancer had eaten from every day of her life at Pine Hollow. She walked around the perimeter of the roomy stall, remembering the way the mare had nosed each corner of it whenever Lisa returned her after a ride, as if checking to make sure that everything was still as it should be.
Then Lisa sat down and leaned against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest. Resting her chin on her knees, she allowed the memories to sweep over her and the tears to roll freely down her face.
TWO
“Left foot, please,” Callie Forester said, tapping the bay gelding on the left foreleg. She smiled as he blinked twice, then slowly shifted his weight, raising his foot off the straw-covered floor. “Thank you, sir,” she said, catching the horse’s hoof and bending over it with her hoof pick. Windsor had a thoughtful, dignified way of doing things that always amused her. Callie had only been riding the big bay for a few days, but she had already grown fond of his quirks and his unique personality.
She was also grateful for the fact that he had a mind of his own and could sometimes be a challenge when he thought he was right and she was wrong. He was nowhere near as spirited as the horses Callie had been accustomed to riding at her old stable back on the West Coast. But he was a lot more exciting than reliable old Patch, the horse she’d been riding lately at Pine Hollow. Callie liked Patch—he was kind and patient and steady—but she preferred a horse that kept her on her toes. In her chosen sport, endurance riding, a horse’s personality was important. Callie had always had the best luck with vigorous horses who were willing to fight hard for every last mile out on the trail.
And Callie expected no less of herself. She had become a junior endurance champion by never giving up, by always wanting to be the best, and most of all by training hard every chance she got. For the past few years she had spent every possible minute out on the trail or in the ring, conditioning and training herself and her mounts, always looking forward to the next fifty- or hundred-mile race.
All that had changed soon after Callie’s family had moved to Willow Creek, Virginia, the previous summer to be closer to her congressman father’s office in Washington, D.C. Callie still found it hard to believe how completely her life had been transformed in a matter of seconds—as long as it took the car she was ri
ding in to skid off the rain-slicked road in front of Pine Hollow, roll over, and tumble down a hill. The next thing Callie knew, she was in the hospital with residual brain damage, which translated into a right leg that wouldn’t do what she wanted it to. Ever since, she had been doing all she could to get her old life and her old body back—putting her famous single-mindedness to work on the task of getting better. And she was so close.…
“I almost wish we weren’t going back to Valley Vista next week,” Callie confided to Windsor as she wedged her hoof pick under a stubborn clod of packed dirt. “I’m not sure it will do me any good to take such a long break from our therapeutic riding sessions. Especially now that I’m making some real progress.”
That was only part of the reason she had mixed feelings about her family’s Thanksgiving plans, though she didn’t voice the other part aloud. As soon as her father had announced that the family would be returning to their hometown during the upcoming school vacation, Callie had immediately imagined what her old friends would say when they saw her. What they would think.
Callie’s gaze wandered to the shiny metal crutches leaning against Windsor’s hayrack. She sighed as she imagined how good it would feel to throw them out the stall’s small window right then and there. It had been almost five months since the accident, and the last thing she felt like doing was discussing it over and over again. But, knowing her parents, she would encounter every person in Valley Vista by the time the week was over, and she dreaded the thought of their nosy questions. She had moved on, and she wasn’t the type of person who liked to dwell on the past.
“What do you think, mister?” she asked Windsor, lowering his hoof to the ground. “Do you think the old gang will believe me if I tell them crutches are all the rage here in Virginia?”
The horse’s only reply was to turn his head slightly and blink at her sleepily, swiveling his ear to dislodge a pesky fly. But Callie already knew the answer to her own question. Her friends in Valley Vista would be perfectly polite to her face, no matter what she decided to tell them about what had happened. But behind her back was another story. She had already learned how deceitful people could be when her former best friend, Sheila, had written a tell-all article for the local newspaper after a visit with Callie and her family. That had also helped Callie to realize that some of her friendships back on the West Coast had been less than what she’d thought they were. The good part of that was that it made her appreciate the true friends she’d made in Willow Creek—Stevie, Carole, Lisa, Alex, Phil, and a few others. But it also made her sad to think about all the time she’d wasted on people who were only interested in getting close to her because of her well-known name or her blond hair and slender good looks.
Ground Training Page 1
