“Friendly?” Stevie broke in. “Yeah, I guess that’s what makes them so great, huh, guys?”
“Definitely,” Lisa said. “Well, we’d better get in line for a burger or they’ll be gone. Max?”
“Uh, you go ahead. I’ve got some things to take care of in the stable,” Max said. “And then I want to make an important announcement.”
“Are you sure you can’t stick around?” Carole asked. Max, however, was already ten paces away from them.
“Now you’ve scared him off,” Stevie said to Lisa.
“I scared him off? More like they terrified him. And besides, I did want to get a hamburger,” Lisa answered defiantly.
The three of them looked over toward the barbecue, where a small line had already formed. Mrs. Reg and Deborah Hale were doing the cooking.
“I’m surprised she’s here,” Carole said. “Max isn’t going to have much time today to help her with her research.”
“That’s for sure,” Lisa agreed. She giggled. “Did you see his face when we introduced him to Tiffani?”
Stevie grinned, nodding. As the three girls joined the line at the barbecue, Stevie noticed Deborah Hale squinting. Some of the smoke from the fiery grill was wafting into her eyes, and the reporter was wiping away tears.
“Let’s hope Deborah is better with a hamburger flipper than a saddle,” she said. “I’m starved.”
When they neared the table, Deborah let out a shriek. “Oh, my gosh! Look at this meat—it’s green!” She held up an uncooked, greenish patty for Mrs. Reg to look at. “We’ve been serving contaminated meat! We’ve got to find out where it came from right away. People could get seriously ill!”
At Deborah’s shriek Stevie ran up to the table, completely horrified. She had provided the meat. What if someone had eaten it! She could just see the headline of the Washington Times—“Well-known Riding Stable Kills Off Parents, Students: An Eyewitness Account.” How could Chad have been so stupid as to purchase rotten beef? Or wait a minute. Maybe he wasn’t so stupid after all. In an instant Stevie’s fear had turned into fury. She, and everyone else around her, had been duped by none other than Chad Lake and a little green food coloring.
Mrs. Reg glanced at the meat and then looked sharply at Stevie. “Stevie, you wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would you, dear?” she asked.
“Absolutely not,” Stevie stated. “But brother Chad did—and he’s going to pay with his life for this little joke. Don’t you see, Mrs. Reg? It’s the oldest trick in the book—food coloring.”
Carole and Lisa burst out laughing. They knew right away what had happened. Chad had been getting back at Stevie for wrangling him into doing so much food shopping for the picnic.
Deborah didn’t seem to share The Saddle Club’s amusement. “You should tell your brother that that’s an obnoxious little prank he played. I’ve covered stories about food poisoning, and let me tell you, it’s not a pretty sight,” she said heatedly. Her face was bright red from smoke, anger, and embarrassment at being fooled by Chad’s joke.
Mrs. Reg put an arm around Deborah to calm her. “Deborah, I know Stevie, and if she says it was only a joke, I’m sure that’s what her brother meant it to be. We can be pretty strange at Pine Hollow sometimes. It really takes some getting used to. Isn’t that right, Max?” Mrs. Reg asked her son, who had just taken his place in line behind The Saddle Club.
“Isn’t what right?” he asked.
“That Pine Hollow can be a confusing place until you get used to it.” She tilted her head significantly toward Deborah.
“Oh, right. Definitely,” Max said. He didn’t seem to know what else to add.
Deborah shrugged and turned back to the grill.
“Listen, this next batch of franks and hamburgers isn’t quite ready, so why don’t you all sit down and come back in a few minutes?” Mrs. Reg suggested.
Max muttered something about his announcement, then seemed to think better of it.
“What, dear?” Mrs. Reg asked.
“Nothing,” he said.
“I’ve got an idea,” Carole said. “This is the perfect time to have the beginner class for all of the new, potential riders.”
Max agreed. He told them to bring out Patch for a grooming and saddling demonstration. Stevie ran to the barn while Lisa and Carole rounded up the troops.
In a few minutes Max was standing in a paddock close to the barbecue pit. Surrounding him was a circle of young women who were smiling expectantly.
As with most inexperienced or first-time riders, the women had come in a wide variety of “riding” clothes. Tiffani wore the kind of Western-style outfit you could find at the mall, complete with plaid shirt and cowgirl hat. The Quantico people were mostly neat and workmanlike in their civilian clothes, or “civvies” as Colonel Hanson called them. Holly, Stevie’s old baby-sitter, was wearing Lycra jogging pants, aerobics shoes, and a tank top. The Cartwright sisters looked sensible in jeans, hard-soled shoes, and nice T-shirts. Margery Tarr, the only one in breeches, boots, and a button-down shirt, stood watching from a distance. She was interested not in seeing what Max taught but how he taught, as she often had to teach beginners on base. Carole knew Margery was also hoping to be able to take a ride around the outside course after the picnic.
Once again Max seemed surprised by the ages of the women who had shown up for the introduction. “Boy, I thought they would be closer to your—” he started to whisper to Stevie, who was holding Topside.
“Isn’t it great how many young women—I mean, older young women—seem to be taking up riding these days? It’s just like your mother said—one gets interested, and then they all do. Our friends are the perfect example. And you know, they have to overcome so much to even get here. A lot of people are prejudiced against adult beginners and treat them differently, as if they shouldn’t be there or something.”
Stevie paused for breath and saw that Max was looking at her thoughtfully, as if trying to decide if she was telling the truth. Under his breath he said, “It’s just that I told people that the guests at the picnic are my closest friends. What will they think?”
Stevie shrugged. Why couldn’t Max just tell them—whoever Max meant by “people”—that he was a terrifically popular ladies’ man? In order to escape further questioning, she introduced Patch in a loud voice and then said, “And now, the man you’ve all been waiting for, Max Regnery the Third, manager of Pine Hollow Stables.”
Max grew very red, cleared his throat, and without further ado, picked up a hoof pick and launched into a detailed demonstration on grooming. From the audience Lisa and Carole watched intently to see if he met anyone’s eyes in particular or smiled at one woman more than another.
“Can you tell anything?” Lisa whispered.
Carole shook her head.
“Who’s he looking at the most?” Lisa asked.
“Patch!” Carole answered.
“Typical!” Lisa whispered back.
All of the women looked very interested in the grooming lesson, and a few asked questions when Max had finished. He answered each one politely and briefly and then started explaining tacking up. Carole and Lisa strained their eyes again but to no avail. Finally Max announced that anyone who liked could form a line and try mounting one at a time. All of the guests hurried into place, the two husbands included.
The first woman in line was Tiffani. Stevie raised her eyebrows at Carole and Lisa as the model bent her left knee, placed her foot in the stirrup and got a helpful boost from Max. Max took his time about making sure her legs hung down correctly and checking her position in the saddle. The Saddle Club exchanged glances: No question Max had to notice how long and shapely and perfect for riding her legs were—just like Max the Fourth’s would be! Lisa crossed her fingers. If only Tiffani would be the one! She would be so proud.
They thought the same thing about Sergeant Kiernan’s legs, the waitress from TD’s legs, and Nicole’s. Holly and the Cartwright twins were a close second. Max spent s
everal minutes with each woman, chatting with her in a friendly tone to help her feel more comfortable five feet off the ground. Stevie, Lisa, and Carole were dying of excitement. Max seemed totally interested in talking with each and every woman. The girls were a little disappointed when he seemed just as interested in talking with the two married women and their husbands, as well as six-year-old Christine Kiernan. The girls didn’t let it bother them for long though. His behavior, they decided, only helped to show just how great a guy he was.
When Margery got to the head of the line, she smiled and asked, “Do you really think I should risk it?”
Max looked at her sharply. His face relaxed into a wide grin. “Margery Tarr!” he exclaimed, shaking hands with her. “I haven’t seen you since we fence judged at that three-day event last fall. What brought you to Pine Hollow?”
“I didn’t think you’d remember,” Margery said. She explained her connection with Carole, adding that she was hoping to get a ride on Dapper later on, one of Max’s experienced hunters. Carole, meanwhile, was practically jumping out of her skin. She was sure Max was going to choose Margery. They would be perfect together. Both loved horses, riding, giving lessons—everything you needed to make a marriage work.
“I can’t believe I never put two and two together. I knew Carole had learned to ride at Quantico, and I knew she’d had a great teacher, but I never realized it was you,” Max said.
Margery nodded modestly. “I had some good talent to work with,” she said.
Carole beamed.
“Hey, do you still have that same boyfriend?” Max asked suddenly. “He’s such a great guy.”
“I sure do. And he still refuses to learn to ride. I guess I …”
Carole didn’t hear another word. Her heart sank. So much for being sure. She could have sworn Max would go for Margery and vice versa. And here Margery had had a boyfriend all along! And what was worse, Max knew about him and didn’t seem at all upset.
Lisa elbowed her gently and mouthed, “Too bad.”
Carole made herself smile. There was no sense feeling bad about Margery when Max had twelve more women to think about, all of whom were probably madly in love with him by now. But she did feel the tiniest bit betrayed that Margery’s boyfriend didn’t even ride. How could Margery possibly get along with him? Sometimes adults were impossible to figure out.
“My gosh, what’s happening?” Lisa’s startled question interrupted Carole’s thoughts. Right beyond the paddock fence, where the barbecue pit was, a small burst of flames lit up.
“Oh, no!” they heard Deborah yell. Mrs. Reg had been leaning on the fence watching the lesson, but she immediately picked up a bucket of ice and sloshed it over the grill. Smoke poured off it.
“Nothing to worry about!” she called. “A hamburger just caught fire for a second. Are you okay?” she asked Deborah more quietly.
Deborah nodded. Her eyes were filled with tears.
“Is she all right?” Max echoed. He turned to Stevie, who was closest to him.
“Yeah, it looks like the smoke really got to her though,” Stevie said. “You should splash your eyes with cold water!” she yelled to Deborah.
Deborah gave Stevie a stricken look. Then she put down her barbecue tools and fled toward the stable. Max watched her go.
“That was good advice, Stevie,” Lisa said. “I know that’s what Dad always tells me to do when the kitchen gets smoky.”
“Ahem,” Carole said. Max turned to her. Carole nodded toward the group who was waiting to be told what to do. Max looked back at the stable.
“Maybe I should see …” He let his voice trail off. “If there are any more questions?” Lisa asked hopefully.
“Uh, yeah,” Max said. “Right.”
WITHIN HALF AN hour after the introductory lesson had ended, Mrs. Reg and Stevie, who had taken over Deborah’s place at the barbecue pit, had the grill going again and were cooking up hamburgers and hot dogs in a jiffy. A few of the parents had brought brownies and cookies, and Colonel Hanson had provided a watermelon, so there was plenty for dessert, too.
Stevie was gleefully holding forth to the people in the hamburger line. They kept asking why the meat was green when it wasn’t even St. Patrick’s Day. To each new group she announced loudly, “Wondering why the meat’s off-color? Call Willow Creek’s own Mrs. Lake, a mother guilty of cruel and unusual punishment. She makes her children slave all day doing housework and cooking so that they have to resort to dyeing food for fun and entertainment.”
Everyone seemed to be having a great time. Eventually Deborah reappeared and asked for a nongreen burger. She was leaning against the fence by herself, eating quietly and watching the crowd.
“Taking notes, I’ll bet,” Lisa whispered.
Carole nodded. “For the big story on food poisoning at Pine Hollow,” she said.
They giggled to themselves. They had tried talking with Deborah for a while, but it was hard because they didn’t think they should bring up horses or riding in case she thought they were bragging or being insensitive. Finally they had given up and had joined the laughing group of Max and his new, adoring fans. The women seemed to be competing with each other to see who could ask Max the most questions about riding and act the most interested in Pine Hollow.
“Who owned Pine Hollow before you, Max?” Holly asked.
“That was my father, Max the Second,” Max replied.
“And how about before that? Was it Max the First?” Miss Cartwright asked.
“That’s right,” Max said. “My grandfather, about whom there are many legends.” A murmur went through the crowd.
Stevie, Lisa, and Carole grinned. They knew the story on Max the First: There was no story. He had just been an everyday guy whom people made up wild rumors about.
“And what about after?” the waitress asked. “I suppose that would be Max the Fourth?”
Max smiled enigmatically. “Should I be lucky enough to marry and have an heir, yes, I suppose it would be Max the Fourth.”
“Or Maxine!” Stevie, Lisa, and Carole shouted in unison. Everyone laughed, and some of the women clapped.
“Amen to that,” Mrs. Reg said.
“Nothing could please me more,” he said. Under the watchful eyes of The Saddle Club, he excused himself and went to get some dessert. The girls trailed him, pretending to want more dessert.
“Are you having a good time, Max?” Stevie asked.
“I’m having a marvelous time,” Max said. “Your friends are really great fun. It was a good idea to invite them. And now I think I’ll sit with my mother for dessert. I want to talk with her for a moment.”
“Oh, no!” Carole cried. “I mean, please sit with us. It’s the big picnic, and it only comes once a year.”
Max looked down at the three pairs of pleading eyes. “All right, if it really means so much to you. I suppose I can speak with Mother later. But I do have an announcement to make,” he added firmly.
“An announcement?” Stevie asked. “Oh, I get it.” She waved her hands to silence the crowd. “Everyone, Max has an announcement to make. And that is that the mounted-games demonstration will start in five minutes. So get your seats now!” She turned back to Max. “Good thinking,” she said. “We’ve got to keep this show on the road, or the fireworks will be starting before we know it.” Another Pine Hollow tradition was watching the town fireworks from a small hill behind the stable, an excellent spot to see them from.
“Okay,” Stevie continued. “Carole, you saddle Nickel and Dime and Penny and Quarter so we can have four teams. Lisa, we need the targets set up. I’ll—”
“Actually,” Max broke in, “that wasn’t the announcement I had in mind. But it’s all right. I’ll make it later. Come on, Lisa, I’ll help you with the targets.”
Before you could say “Super Soaker Target Shoot,” the picnic had transformed itself into a games practice, with The Saddle Club in charge. First, Lisa, Carole, and Stevie did a mock costume relay race, competing against
another team of three. Then they dismounted and turned the ponies over to younger riders, first showing them how to mount and dismount as fast as possible.
There would be two different relay races. Carole explained the objectives to the parents, other students, and single women.
“In the first race, riders will have to take a baton, ride down to the flagged barrel and back, and hand off the baton to the next rider. The bigger kids are going to play a different game, involving a squirt gun and target. Basically, they’ll be trying to ride down to the target, hit it with the water, ride back, refill the gun, and hand it off. This one is a Pine Hollow favorite, created by Stevie Lake, who is the world’s best at Super Soaker Target Shoot.”
The crowd clapped politely at Carole’s explanation and waited for the signal that would begin the races. Mrs. Reg poised at the end of the ring to drop the flag. She raised her hands—and one of the Super Soaker targets fell over.
“Time out!” Stevie called at once. She ran down to the end of the ring to examine the target, now lying on the ground. The easel that had been holding it up had fallen over. Stevie saw why. One of the legs had completely snapped from the weight of the target. She thought fast. After such a great introduction, everyone was really interested in the race. And come sign-up time for Pony Club games, it was crucial that Horse Wise have a big, enthusiastic turnout. In other words, the games must go on! The only logical solution was to have somebody hold up the target.
Stevie glanced around. Deborah was still standing alone and looked kind of out of it—as if she didn’t know where to go or what to do with herself. Stevie knew that when she was feeling that she didn’t fit in somewhere, she liked to have something to do. That always made it easier to fit in.
“Hey, Deborah!” Stevie called enthusiastically. She hurried over to the woman’s side. “Are you busy right now?” she asked.
Deborah brightened visibly. “No, not at all. I was just getting ready to watch the games, but I guess you’re having trouble, huh?”
Hay Fever Page 6
