THE NEXT AFTERNOON everyone met in front of Pine Hollow at four. The weather was cloudy and cold, and most of the riders from Horse Wise were bundled up in warm parkas. A familiar station wagon pulled up, and Stevie’s boyfriend, Phil Marsten, and his best friend, A.J., climbed out.
“Hi, Stevie,” Phil called. He grinned and gave her a big hug. “Are we supposed to practice our singing out here in the cold?”
“Hi, Phil.” Stevie smiled. “Actually, I’m not sure where we’re going to practice. We need to ask Max about it.”
Just then Max and Maxi hurried past the entrance of the stable. “Are these the Pine Hollow carolers?” Max paused a moment as Maxi grinned delightedly at all the people from the front pack he used to carry her.
“Yes,” said Carole. “And we need a place to practice. Preferably a warm place. It’s kind of hard learning new songs in below-zero weather. Could we use the indoor ring?”
Max gave a sideways glance at Stevie. “How about the back tack room? The sound really carries from the indoor ring. I’ve heard how some of you sing before, and I don’t want to put the horses off their feed.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me, Max,” Stevie said with a grin. “I’ve taken voice lessons. I sing like an angel now.”
“Well, practice in the back tack room anyway,” said Max. “If you now sing like an angel, I don’t want the horses to think they’ve all died and gone to heaven.”
“Okay,” said Stevie. “But I’m sure once you hear me you’ll be amazed.”
She and Carole led the crowd of carolers to the back tack room. They took off their hats and coats while Carole passed around sheets of paper with the words of seven Christmas carols.
“Where did you get those, Carole?” Stevie asked, looking at the neatly printed sheets.
“My dad took me down to his office last night and let me print them out on his computer. He said it was the least he could do, since we were doing this for the toy campaign.”
“Hi, guys,” a familiar voice said behind them. “Sorry we’re late.”
Stevie and Carole turned around. Lisa stood there, with Eliot and Douglas smiling behind her.
“Hi, Lisa,” Carole said. “Hi, Eliot. Hi, Douglas. Glad you could make it. Lisa says you’re going to teach us a Scottish Christmas carol.”
“Oh, really?” Eliot looked surprised. “Funny, she didn’t mention that to us.”
“I guess I forgot,” Lisa said sheepishly. “I was so busy helping Mom with the cock-a-leekie soup last night, and then we played darts until it was time to go to bed.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Douglas laughed and nudged his brother. “I’m sure Mr. McBagpipes here can come up with something.”
“Let’s practice our old standbys first, and then we can learn some new ones,” suggested Stevie.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Carole agreed.
Lisa and her cousins joined everyone else in a big circle on the floor while Stevie stood up in front of the group. “Okay, guys,” she began. “Does everyone here know the words to ‘Jingle Bells’?”
Everyone nodded.
“Then let’s start off with that one.” Stevie stood up straight, took a deep breath, and launched into “Jingle Bells.” Her voice rang out clear and on key. Stevie really had learned to sing! Everyone listened in astonishment for a moment, after which they joined in.
“Okay,” said Stevie when they had finished. “That sounded pretty good.”
“You sounded pretty good, too, Stevie,” Phil called.
“Thanks.” Stevie smiled at Phil’s compliment. “What shall we sing next?”
“How about ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’?” said Jessica Adler.
“And then ‘Joy to the World’,” called May Grover. “That’s my favorite.”
“Okay,” said Stevie. She led everyone through the carols Jessica and May had asked for. Then, just as the group started in on “Silent Night,” there was a loud knock on the tack room door.
“What’s going on in here?” Veronica appeared at the door, her normally pale skin flushed bright red. Everyone stopped singing and looked at her. She stared straight at Stevie. “Is this something you’ve plotted behind my back?”
Stevie blinked with surprise. “No, Veronica,” she explained calmly. “We’re practicing our carol singing for tomorrow night. I called you about it a couple of days ago, and I announced this practice at the end of riding class yesterday.”
“She did, Veronica.” Betsy Cavanaugh agreed with Stevie. “Why don’t you come and sing with us? It’s lots of fun.”
“I’m sure it is.” Veronica tossed her head. “But some of us don’t have time to waste singing Christmas carols. Some of us wouldn’t want to take the chance of running around the neighborhood and exposing our throats to the cold night air, particularly when some of us are starring in our school’s Christmas play!”
“But …,” Stevie began.
Veronica turned and stormed off through the stable before anyone could say another word. Stevie watched her go, then shrugged and returned her attention to the carolers.
“Okay, what shall we sing next?” she asked.
“Let Eliot and Douglas teach us a traditional British carol now,” called Lisa.
“Okay. Eliot and Douglas, now it’s your turn.” Stevie grinned as the two guys stood up. “Everybody, this is Eliot and Douglas Ross, Lisa’s cousins from Scotland,” she said as they came and stood beside her. “They say they sing Christmas carols in Scotland, but I’ve never heard any.”
“Have you ever heard ‘Child in a Manger’?” asked Eliot with a grin. “It’s a favorite back home.”
Stevie shook her head. “We’d all like to learn it, though.”
“Okay. It goes like this.” Eliot and Douglas both squared their shoulders as Stevie had and began to sing a lovely carol about a baby sleeping on Christmas morning. Everyone listened as the boys sang the first verse. The group joined in on the chorus. A few minutes later they sang the song all the way through, and by the time they had finished, everyone had learned a new carol.
“All right,” said Stevie, clapping as the guys sat down. “Thanks, Eliot and Douglas. That sounded great. Does anyone else have a carol they’d like to teach us?”
“I’ve got a Hanukkah song we could sing,” said Phil, rising to his feet.
“Super,” said Stevie. “Come on up here and teach us.”
Phil stood up and sang a bouncy little song about candles shining in menorahs. All the carolers loved it, and in a few minutes they’d learned that one as well.
“Anybody else?” Stevie asked as Phil sat down.
“How about my Kwanzaa song?” said Carole.
“Sure,” Stevie said.
Carole got up and stood beside Stevie. Everyone looked up at her, waiting for her to begin. She smiled. Suddenly she realized how wonderful it was that all these people were willing to help her raise money for her father’s special project. They were all busy and didn’t have to do it, but they were doing it to help her and people less fortunate. It would be her small gift to them in return to share the special song her mother had loved so.
“This is a song my mother taught me before she died,” Carole said softly. “It’s my favorite song, because it reminds me so much of her. It’s about love and working hard together and being grateful for what the earth gives us.”
Carole took a deep breath. She knew she hadn’t had lessons as Stevie had, but she hoped she could sing the song well.
“ ‘We bring to this feast of Karamu, our colors of Kwanzaa love,’ ” she began. The words brought back wonderful memories of her mother, and it seemed to Carole that somehow her mother was right there with her. Everyone in the tack room was silent as Carole’s song floated through the air. Stevie and Lisa looked at each other and smiled.
Suddenly Stevie caught sight of Deborah standing and listening at the tack room door. Deborah waited until Carole had finished her song, then motioned for Stevie to come to the door
.
“What are you guys doing?” she whispered as Carole began to teach her song to the group. “You actually sound pretty good.”
“We’ve been practicing Christmas carols, and now we’re learning a Kwanzaa song.” Stevie counted on her fingers. “So far we’ve learned a Hanukkah song and a Kwanzaa song and a bunch of traditional Christmas carols.”
“That’s wonderful.” Deborah gave her a quizzical smile. “But are you doing this just for fun?”
“Oh, no. We’re going Christmas caroling tomorrow night to raise money for the toy drive,” Stevie explained. “We only collected nineteen dollars with our stand at TD’s. We thought this would work out better. People can’t turn us down if we’re singing at their front door.” Stevie grinned. “Plus, now we’re an international, multicultural choral group!”
Deborah frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Lisa’s cousins Eliot and Douglas are helping, too. They celebrate Christmas, but they’re from Scotland. Phil’s from here but he celebrates Hanukkah, and Carole celebrates Kwanzaa.”
Deborah dug her reporter’s notebook out of her purse and began to make notes. “Does Tress Montgomery know about this?”
“I don’t think so. Carole’s really crazy about getting a lot of money for the Marines, but I don’t think she’d have the nerve to call Tress Montgomery.”
Deborah opened her mouth to say something, but her cell phone rang. She answered it quickly, then tucked it back inside her purse. “Gotta go,” she said to Stevie. “I’ve got to run down to the paper and then pick Max up here in an hour. Good luck with your caroling. I’ll see you later!”
“Thanks,” called Stevie as Deborah hurried off down the hall. She went back inside the tack room. Everyone had just finished singing Carole’s song for the third time.
“That’s a beautiful song, Carole,” Meg Durham said. “Thanks for teaching it to us.”
Stevie stood in front of the group again. “Okay, if everyone feels like they know the words to the carols, we’ll meet here tomorrow evening at five, three hours before the Christmas party. That should give us lots of time to carol and make tons of money for the toy drive.”
“Should we bring our words with us?” Someone waved the sheet Carole had passed out.
“Sure,” said Stevie. “Don’t forget to bring flashlights, too.”
“Will we find out who our Secret Santas are at the party tomorrow night?” someone else asked as they all put on their coats.
“According to Max, we will,” said Stevie.
“Good,” said Jasmine James. “I can hardly wait.”
“Okay, then,” Stevie announced. “We’ll see all you guys here tomorrow at five. Thanks for coming!”
Everyone crowded out the door. Phil and A.J. said they would see everyone tomorrow. Lisa and her cousins began to walk toward home.
“Do you really think we’ll raise a lot of money, Stevie?” Carole asked as she zipped her parka up against the cold air.
“I know we will,” Stevie said. “Don’t you?”
“I hope so,” said Carole, looking up into the dark sky and again sensing that somehow her mother was very close by. “I really hope so.”
LISA WALKED TOWARD home between Eliot and Douglas. All the houses in her neighborhood had turned their Christmas lights on, and the whole street twinkled with a thousand different colors.
“I really enjoyed the carol practice, but who was that girl who stuck her head in the door and started blithering about being the star of some play?” Douglas asked as they hurried through the chilly darkness.
“That was Veronica diAngelo,” Lisa said with exasperation. “She’s the richest and snobbiest girl at Pine Hollow. And the hardest person to get along with, too. She’s convinced Stevie’s trying to get even with her over something that happened at their school when, in fact, Stevie’s really been extra nice to her.”
“And what was the Secret Santa thing that the other girl asked about?” said Eliot.
Lisa grimaced. She’d been so busy lately with everything else that she hadn’t really given much thought to the Secret Santa gift, and now she was supposed to come up with something for Max by tomorrow night! “We drew names at our last Horse Wise meeting,” she explained. “And we’re supposed to do a good deed for the person whose name we drew. Tomorrow night at the party all the Secret Santas are supposed to be revealed.”
“So who did you draw?” Eliot asked. “Not that Veronica creature, I hope.”
“No, I drew Max, the owner of the stable. He’s so busy you can hardly see him, much less figure out something nice to do for him for Christmas.” Lisa sighed. “Now I’ve got to come up with something by tomorrow night.”
“Gosh,” said Douglas. “What to do for the man who does everything? That’s a sticky wicket, all right.”
Half a block away, a car turned down the street. Its shape looked familiar. Lisa peered at it under the streetlights. “Isn’t that our car?”
“Looks like it,” agreed Douglas. “Maybe they got worried and sent out a search party for us.”
The car blinked its lights and pulled over to the side of the street. James Ross rolled down the window and stuck his head out into the cold night air.
“Hello, lads,” he called. “Hi, Lisa. How did the singing go?”
“Great,” Eliot said. “Did you come to give us a lift back?”
James grinned and shook his head. “Sorry. Richard’s car has a flat battery at his office parking garage. I’m driving over to give him a spark. I should be done in a jiff.” He smiled at Lisa. “Your mum says the clooty dumpling will be ready about the time we get back.”
“Wonderful.” Lisa tried to sound enthusiastic. They’d eaten Scottish food for the past ten meals, and she was beginning to dream about American hamburgers with ketchup-covered french fries and chocolate shakes.
“See you!” James waved and pulled back onto the street as the trio walked on home.
“So much for our lift,” grumbled Eliot, pulling his cap down further over his ears.
“Oh, come on, El. It’s brisk. Just like home.” Douglas looked at his brother and gave an impish grin. “Beat you to the next post-box!”
With that both Eliot and Douglas began to run. They zigzagged crazily down the street, stopping first at one mailbox, then another. When they reached the end of the block they stopped, gasping for breath.
“You guys are nuts,” Lisa said, laughing as she caught up with them.
“No, we’re not,” panted Eliot. “At home they’d call us mad.”
“That may be,” giggled Lisa. “But in America you’re just plain nuts.”
“Oh, come on,” said Douglas. “Let’s not stand here out in the cold arguing about how you call someone crazy. Let’s get home. I’m getting very peckish!”
Lisa laughed as her cousins teased each other all the way up the driveway. Though sometimes it was a challenge to figure out exactly what they were saying, she liked them both a lot and she was glad they had come for Christmas.
“Just a few more steps.” Douglas pretended to stagger with hunger as they walked through the empty garage to the kitchen door. “I can smell the clooty already.”
“Actually I’m glad,” admitted Lisa. “I’m getting hungry, too.”
She opened the door. They all stepped into the kitchen together and stopped dead in their tracks. “Good grief!” Eliot cried. “What on earth has happened?”
Lisa’s mouth fell open.
There, in her mother’s formerly spotless kitchen, Caitlin and Fiona sat yowling in the middle of a mound of flour. The little girls were covered in the white stuff, with gobs of it in their hair and smeared all over their faces. Sarah Ross was crawling around on the floor on her hands and knees, fussing at the twins and desperately trying to clean everything up. Her face was bright red and she was frantically using a whiskbroom with one hand and a damp paper towel with the other. But the worst part was just in front of the oven. There sat Mrs. Atwood with huge
runny pieces of clooty dumpling scattered all over the floor. The gooey stuff had splattered all over everything, and Mrs. Atwood’s chin trembled, as if at any moment she might begin to cry. Lisa couldn’t believe her eyes. In just a matter of moments, her mother’s immaculate kitchen had become a complete disaster!
“Gosh.” Douglas blinked in amazement. “Is this some sort of American Christmas custom?”
“Yes,” said Lisa, suddenly bursting into a fit of giggles at the sight of four people covered in various amounts of flour. “It’s called the Great American Pre-Christmas Flour Crawl.”
Eliot began to laugh along with Lisa, and Douglas did, too. Mrs. Atwood looked up at them from her seat in front of the stove, and she, too, began to laugh. Sarah Ross, who’d been apologizing to Mrs. Atwood when she hadn’t been scolding the twins, looked over and saw Mrs. Atwood laughing, and she began to laugh as well. Finally the twins, who’d been crying, stopped and looked at the adults around them. Nobody seemed angry at them anymore. In fact, everybody seemed to be covered in flour and suddenly having a marvelous time. They began to laugh along with everyone else.
Lisa felt a draft of chilly air as the back door opened behind her. She turned to see her father and James Ross coming through the door, their cheeks red from the cold. “You’re not going to believe this, Dad,” Lisa began, but she stopped when she saw both James and her father standing there, their eyes wide with amazement.
“Good heavens!” cried Mr. Atwood. “Is everyone all right? Did the stove blow up?”
“No, Richard, we’re fine,” gasped Mrs. Atwood, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. She took one look at Sarah Ross, who had a piece of clooty dumpling dangling from her hair, and began to laugh all over again.
“I’m afraid it’s our fault,” giggled Sarah, trying to catch her breath. “The twins got into the flour and smeared it all over themselves and the kitchen. I came in here to clean it up, and then the clooty dumpling was ready. Eleanor had just taken it from the oven when she slipped on the flour and dropped the clooty and herself all over the floor!”
Christmas Treasure Page 12
