English Rider

by Bonnie Bryant

  Tessa nodded. “I could tell you weren’t mad about those gold ones Veronica and I got yesterday,” she said frankly. “But when I saw this one, I thought it might be more your style.”

  “It is.” Lisa picked up the pin to take a better look. Suddenly her irritation melted away, and she felt guilty about her earlier doubts. What had she and her friends been thinking? Just because Tessa was polite enough to put up with Veronica, that didn’t mean they should start concocting all sorts of ridiculous theories about it. “It’s just my style. Thanks, Tessa. I love it!”

  At that moment Mrs. Atwood hurried into the room. “Oh, hello, Tessa,” she said. “I thought I heard you come in. Did you have a nice time with Veronica?”

  “Oh, yes,” Tessa said. “She’s such an interesting person. She has a marvelously witty way of looking at the world.”

  “Her mother is just the same way,” Mrs. Atwood assured Tessa, sitting down beside her on the couch. “She’s done a wonderful job of raising Veronica to know her own mind. Such a smart and well-spoken young girl!”

  “Absolutely,” Tessa agreed. “Just now in the limo, Veronica told me the most interesting story about her last trip to Paris.…”

  Lisa gritted her teeth as her mother and Tessa continued to praise the diAngelos. She studied the gorgeous silver stock pin in her hand. It had been such a thoughtful, personal gift, and she knew Stevie and Carole would agree. Only a good friend could have chosen it—a friend like Tessa.

  So why did it sometimes seem that none of them really knew Tessa at ail?

  STEVIE CHECKED HER watch for the fifth time in thirty seconds. It was almost time for riding lessons to start, and the four members of The Saddle Club were already seated on the fence of the outdoor ring. Because of the carriage-driving demonstration, Max had told everyone not to bother tacking up their horses, so most of the class was already outside, talking or just enjoying the bright summer day.

  Tessa laughed. “Really, Stevie,” she teased. “If you don’t stop looking at that wristwatch every other second, you’ll wear it out!”

  Carole noticed what Stevie was doing, too. “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure Phil will be here soon.”

  Stevie grinned sheepishly. She knew her friends were probably right. Phil would get there when he got there, and unless she missed her guess, he would make sure to be there in plenty of time for the demonstration. But she couldn’t help glancing at her watch again a few seconds later.

  Phil lived in a town about ten miles away and rode at a different stable, so he and Stevie only got to see each other once or twice a month. During the summer it was usually easier to get together, but Stevie still appreciated every visit. Besides, she really did want him to spend some time with Tessa before she had to go back to England.

  Stevie was checking her watch yet again when she heard a car turn up the driveway. “There he is,” she said with relief, recognizing the Marstens’ car.

  Moments later, Phil was perched on the fence between Stevie and Tessa. “I’m glad I made it in time,” he said breathlessly. “My sister Barbara promised to drop me off on her way to the mall, and she kept changing her mind about which earrings she was going to wear.” Barbara was Phil’s oldest sister.

  “Never mind,” Tessa said cheerily. “You’re here now, and that’s what matters. By the way, Stevie was telling me the other night about the riding camp where you two met. Did she really single-handedly save all the horses at camp from a huge barn fire?”

  Phil rolled his eyes and laughed. “Leave it to Stevie to exaggerate, as usual,” he said teasingly. “Listen, this is what really happened.…”

  Stevie smiled as Tessa and Phil continued to chat. She was glad they seemed to like each other as much as she liked both of them.

  Then her attention was drawn by a flurry of activity in the ring. Red had just entered, pushing one of Pine Hollow’s wheelbarrows. Instead of being loaded with manure or hay bales or any other familiar stable items, it was full of bright orange rubber cones.

  Carole was watching Red, too, a puzzled look on her face. “What’s he doing with those?” she asked. “They look like traffic cones.”

  Several other students had noticed the cones, too. “Yo, Red,” Joe Novick called out. “What’s up with the cones? Are you practicing to get your driver’s license?”

  Red smiled good-naturedly as several kids laughed. “You’ll have to wait and see,” he called back. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

  As The Saddle Club and their classmates watched, Red dragged the wheelbarrow to the center of the ring. He dug under the stack of cones for a moment, finally coming up with a measuring tape. He grabbed one cone, dropped it on the dusty ground, then carefully measured out a distance of several yards starting from the edge of the cone.

  “What in the world is he doing?” Lisa said.

  Stevie shrugged, but she noticed that Carole didn’t look quite as confused as the rest of them did. “Do you know something we don’t know?” Stevie asked her.

  “I’m not sure,” Carole said. “This looks sort of familiar. I think I may have seen something like this at a horse show once.”

  “Something like what?” Phil asked.

  Carole shook her head. “Just wait,” she said. “If it’s what I think it is, you’ll find out soon.”

  Stevie wasn’t about to let her friend get away with that. But before she could ask any more questions, she heard a loud snort from the stable entrance behind her. She turned and saw Hodge and Podge emerging with Miles at their heads. The Cleveland Bays were groomed to within an inch of their lives. They were outfitted in a perfectly polished silver-jointed leather harness and pulling the yellow-and-black phaeton.

  “Wow,” Lisa said. “They look amazing.”

  Everyone else seemed to agree. All the riding students watched as Miles led the horses into the ring, keeping them at one end so that he wouldn’t get in Red’s way.

  A moment later Max and Mrs. Pennington came out of the stable and walked to the ring. Max was wearing his normal riding clothes. Mrs. Pennington, however, looked just as fancy as her horses did. She was wearing an old-fashioned long skirt and jacket, and an elaborate feathered hat was perched atop her iron-gray curls. Curvy-heeled buckled shoes and long, buttoned gloves completed the outfit.

  “Attention, everyone,” Max said, walking to the center of the ring. “I think you all know Mrs. Pennington, who spoke at our last Horse Wise meeting. She has graciously agreed to give us another driving demonstration now that her equipment is here.”

  Stevie was only half listening as Max went on to say a few more words about Mrs. Pennington and her accomplishments. She was busy watching Red. The stable hand had just finished distributing the cones, and now he pulled the wheelbarrow out of the ring. But Stevie could see that there was still one item left inside—a paper grocery bag. As she watched, Red picked up the bag, tucked it under his arm, and quietly reentered the ring. He walked to the nearest cone, then dipped his hand into the bag.

  Stevie leaned forward for a better look. She was more confused than ever when Red pulled out an ordinary yellow tennis ball and set it carefully on the narrow top of the cone. The ball settled comfortably into the small opening there. Red moved on to the next cone, and the one after that. By the time Max had finished his introductory speech, every one of the orange cones had a bright yellow ball perched on it.

  “All right, then,” Max said at last. “Mrs. Pennington, if you’re ready to start …”

  The elderly woman nodded and stepped forward to address the class. “First of all,” she said in her clear, confident voice, “I want to give you a little demonstration. Some of you may be under the impression that there is only one way to have an exciting time with a horse—namely, by sitting on his back. I want to show you that driving can be just as much fun.”

  She walked toward the phaeton and held out her hand. Max stepped up gallantly and offered his arm, helping her up the high step into the old-fashioned
vehicle.

  Soon Mrs. Pennington was sitting on the front seat. She took up the double reins in her left hand and the long, thin whip in her right. Miles stepped away from the team and headed for the fence to join the students. With a flick of Mrs. Pennington’s wrists, the big horses stepped off in perfect harmony.

  Stevie forgot about the mysterious cones for a moment as she watched Hodge and Podge walk and trot around the perimeter of the ring. Mrs. Pennington sat almost perfectly still. Using only her hands, her voice, and a long-handled whip, she kept her horses moving exactly where she wanted them.

  Finally she brought her team to a square halt at the far end of the ring, just a few yards from one set of orange cones. There was a smattering of applause from the students. Stevie felt like adding a few whoops and hollers of appreciation—Hodge and Podge deserved it—but somehow, looking at the impeccably dressed older woman, she decided that that wouldn’t quite be dignified. She clapped loudly instead.

  Mrs. Pennington acknowledged the reaction with a regal nod of her head. Then she turned to address Max. “Mr. Regnery, the stopwatch, if you please,” she called to him.

  Max nodded and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the timer he sometimes used during class. “Ready when you are, Mrs. Pennington,” he called back.

  “All right, then,” the woman said. She turned to face the students again. “Now I’m pleased to introduce you to a sport you may not have seen before. Back in Devon, Pennsylvania, we know it as scurry driving.” She pointed to the cones scattered about the ring. “Please note that we have several pairs of orange cones. My goal is to drive my team through this course as quickly as possible without knocking over the cones or dislodging the balls on top of them.”

  “I knew it,” Carole whispered gleefully to her friends. “I saw this kind of thing at a show a long time ago before I moved to Virginia. It’s really fun—big, fancy carts like that one go racing around the course, and the fastest cart wins.”

  The others didn’t have a chance to respond. Mrs. Pennington had started.

  Stevie never would have believed that horses as large as Hodge and Podge could move so nimbly. They broke into a brisk trot as they headed straight between the first pair of cones, then sped up into a rolling canter. Stevie gasped as the Cleveland Bays whirled around a tight turn, then headed for the next pair of cones at a sharp angle. She almost closed her eyes, sure that Hodge’s big hooves were going to smash right into the left-hand cone. But Mrs. Pennington flicked her whip just above Hodge’s shoulder, and he adjusted his stride just enough to miss the cone. The phaeton slid between the two cones with mere inches to spare on each side.

  Stevie watched with growing admiration as Mrs. Pennington guided her team through the rest of the brief course. She was amazed that the driver could judge so accurately the exact moment she had to ask the horses to turn or slow down. But the team raced between each pair of cones without so much as brushing them with a hoof or one of the phaeton’s big wooden wheels, even though the horses kept up a brisk speed throughout, moving smoothly from trot to canter and back again. When Mrs. Pennington pulled Hodge and Podge to a stop with a flourish, every ball remained squarely in place.

  This time everyone who was watching broke into loud applause, and Stevie wasn’t the only one whooping and hollering. “That was amazing!” Phil shouted over the noise as Mrs. Pennington tipped her hat to her fans.

  “Totally,” Stevie agreed. “I guess she was right. Carriage driving isn’t boring at all!”

  When the applause died down, Max held up his stopwatch. “If you think that was exciting, listen to this,” he called. “In a real scurry event at a horse show, there would be a dozen or so entries who would have to complete the course just as Mrs. Pennington and her team did. Each round would be timed, with faults taken for knocking down a ball or a cone or going over the time allowed. The fastest time with the fewest faults would win.”

  “Just like show jumping,” Lisa commented. Max heard her and nodded. “It’s the same basic idea,” he said.

  Mrs. Pennington drove her team closer to the students, then stopped. “It’s a fun event,” she said, sounding just slightly breathless, though she looked as calm and composed as ever. “One misjudged step can mean a smashed cone and a disastrous score. It’s vital to be accurate.” She smiled. “But if you want to win, you must be fast as well. And that’s where the fun comes in—for the teams and for the audience.” She waved a hand at her own outfit. “Of course, the audience also enjoys seeing the turnouts. At the Devon Horse Show in Pennsylvania, where I compete each year, the scurry driving event is limited to pairs pulling four-wheeled antique carriage vehicles. That can mean anything from a dashing little phaeton like this one”—she gestured to her own carriage—“to a massive antique police wagon or grocer’s cart. And naturally, the drivers usually dress to match their vehicles.”

  Stevie sighed dreamily. “That sounds so cool,” she said. “I’d love to see a real scurry contest like that.” She couldn’t believe she had never heard of scurry driving before. It was just the sort of thing she loved the most—a real athletic equine endeavor requiring skill and talent, but also requiring at least a little bit of wackiness.

  “You’d love it,” Carole assured her.

  Suddenly Tessa grinned. She stood up on the lowest rail of the fence and waved her hand at Max. “Max!” she called excitedly. “I’ve just had a smashing idea!”

  “What is it, Tessa?” Max asked.

  “Why don’t we see if we can add a scurry race to the point-to-point event on Saturday?” Tessa said.

  There were cries of approval from all around. Stevie could tell that after Mrs. Pennington’s exciting demonstration, many of the other students were just as eager as she was to see a full-scale race.

  But she could also see that Max wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about the idea. “I don’t know, Tessa,” he said. “That would be lots of fun, I’ll admit. But at this late date—”

  “Why not?” Polly Giacomin called out. “It would be a blast!” Several other people shouted out their agreement as Mrs. Pennington looked on with a bemused expression.

  Max held up his hands for quiet. “Just a minute,” he said firmly. “Now, I’m not saying that it wouldn’t be a good addition to the day. I just think it might be better to suggest it if there’s another point-to-point next year. It’s just too late this year.” He glanced over at Mrs. Pennington and smiled. “For one thing, as of right now, we would have only one entry.”

  “Make that two entries,” Mrs. Pennington corrected, still looking bemused. “My second team is due to arrive before the weekend, and my grandson is quite an accomplished driver himself. I’m not saying he’d stand a chance against me”—she gave the watching students a droll wink—“but it would be good practice for him.”

  Miles pretended to be insulted as the students laughed. “You’d better watch what you say, Grandmother!” he called out. “You’ll be sorry when I don’t let you touch my blue ribbon.”

  Max still looked unconvinced. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just don’t think—”

  “I know someone else who might want to enter,” Polly interrupted. “One of my neighbors has a cousin who has a carriage team.”

  Phil raised his hand. “I could ask Mr. Baker if he wants to give it a shot,” he called out. Mr. Baker was the head instructor at Cross County, the stable where Phil rode. “He’s got a fancy old carriage he drives in parades once in a while.”

  “And some of us could enter with a couple of ponies and the pony cart,” Carole spoke up. “That’s got four wheels. Are ponies allowed to enter?”

  “Certainly,” Mrs. Pennington answered before Max could reply. “The only rule is that you must have a pair. There’s no limit to how large or small the animals can be.”

  That reminded Stevie of something. “Mr. Toll!” she blurted out excitedly. “I mean, what about that farmer Mr. Toll who lives near here? He has a couple of teams of big workhorses, remember? He coul
d enter with his hay wagon.”

  That did it. Suddenly everyone seemed to remember a neighbor, a relative, or a friend of a friend with some connection to a carriage team. Before long Max threw up his hands in exasperation, but he was smiling. “All right, all right!” he shouted over the racket. “You win. I’ll speak to the country club committee. If they agree, I’ll offer to help organize a scurry race for the point-to-point.”

  The students let out a loud cheer. Miles Pennington joined in, and even Mrs. Pennington let out a hearty “Hear, hear!”

  Max raised one finger warningly. “But remember, you all promised to help.”

  “We’ll help, Max,” Carole promised. “You can count on us.”

  “And on Miles and me, too,” Mrs. Pennington added. “I’d be happy to help organize the event.”

  “Good.” Max smiled at Mrs. Pennington. “Now, I believe our guest speaker has some more to tell us about driving.”

  LISA SLID DOWN off the fence as soon as Max dismissed the class half an hour later. “I’ll meet you guys inside,” she told her friends hurriedly. “I want to call my mom right away. You know—break it to her gently.”

  “Oh dear,” Tessa said, looking worried. “I didn’t even think about that when I suggested the scurry race. Do you suppose your mum will be terribly frantic?”

  “Probably,” Carole answered for Lisa. “But don’t worry. That’s the way she is. Right, Lisa?”

  Lisa smiled weakly in response, then hurried inside, heading for the pay phone in the hallway outside the locker room. She wasn’t sure whether to be happy or upset about the new addition to the point-to-point schedule. On the one hand, she could understand why her friends and classmates were so excited. Mrs. Pennington’s scurry run had been fun to watch. On the other hand, she could only imagine how much more work this would mean for her mother—and therefore for The Saddle Club. It wasn’t that Lisa had anything against hard work. It was just—well, she wasn’t sure what was bothering her exactly. Perhaps she wished that Tessa had run the idea past her friends before blurting it out to the larger group. Not that Lisa would have voted against it, of course. It was just that … well …