Behind them Stevie burst into song. She often did that when riding at the Bar None, though her friends had done everything they could to convince her that even the coyotes did a better job of singing than she did. Stevie was a girl with many strengths and talents. Singing wasn’t one of them.
“Oh, give me a home! Where the buffalo roam!” she screeched.
Gary turned around to look at her. Before she could take another breath, he took up the tune where she’d left it off.
“ ‘And the deer and the antelope play,’ ” he sang. His voice was everything Carole had said it was—rich and strong, velvety smooth and gentle.
“Maybe a voice like that can move the sun,” Lisa said to Kate.
“Maybe,” Kate agreed, sighing with pleasure at the joyous sound of Gary Finnegan’s music.
“AREN’T YOU COMING in for breakfast?” Carole asked Gary when they returned to the ranch.
“No thanks,” said Gary. “I’ll eat with my parents in our suite. We’ve got some work to do on a new arrangement after that. Since you’re such a fan, I’d invite you to listen in, but my parents get funny about secrecy when we’re trying something new …”
“Oh, you don’t have to apologize,” Carole said. “It just means I have something to look forward to. And when it hits the top of the charts, I’ll know where it began.”
“Thanks,” he said. Then he veered off to the Creek Suite.
Stevie tugged at Carole’s sleeve. “You’re gushing, Carole.”
Carole started to blush.
“Don’t worry,” Lisa said calmly. “I don’t think he noticed.”
“Oh, I hope not,” said Carole. “It’s just that he’s—”
“I know,” said Stevie. “He’s Gary Finnegan.”
“I guess you do understand,” said Carole.
“I don’t, but I have to say, the boy can sing,” Stevie said. “In fact, he sings much better than I do.”
“Stewball sings better than you do,” Lisa teased.
“That’s not my singing you’re hearing. That’s my grumbling stomach,” Stevie said.
“There may be no cure for the voice, but there is a cure for the grumbling stomach,” Kate said. “And I can smell it from out here. Let’s go.”
The five girls tromped into the main house. The closer they got to the dining room, the more delicious breakfast smelled. By the time they sat down, they were starving. Fortunately Phyllis had made an enormous stack of pancakes. The plate emptied quickly while the guests served themselves. As fast as Stevie could say “Pass the butter, pass the bacon, pass the syrup—uh, please,” she was ready to eat.
The Katzes were at the table and asked the girls about their morning ride. The girls were delighted to reenact it. They told how they’d found the horse herd in case the Katzes wanted to ride there later in the day.
“Not too late, though,” Kate said. “It looks like it’s going to snow.”
Frank Devine joined the others at the table. As he poured himself some coffee, he turned to his daughter.
“Do you know anything about a break in the fence?” he asked her.
“Sure do,” she said. “In fact, there were two. We saw one last night and I tied it up with my rope. Then, when we were out there this morning, there was another. I might not have noticed it at all except for the two idiots who came over from the Westerlys’ land yesterday. They said they’d come through the gate. Only a total greenhorn can’t tell the difference between a broken fence and an open gate. Anyway, I told John and Walter about both breaks. They’re going out there this morning to fix them.”
“I think I’m going to have to go myself,” Frank said.
“Why?” Phyllis asked him as she pulled up her own chair to the table.
“Well, I just had a call from Westerly. He told me that half his herd of horses is missing. He asked me to check and see if they somehow got onto Bar None land and joined our herd.”
“They might have,” Kate said. “That fence was wide open all night long.”
“No, Kate,” Carole said. “We saw the Bar None herd. There were no extra horses there. In fact—don’t you remember? There were fewer horses than we saw yesterday.”
“Fewer?” Frank Devine asked.
“Sure,” Stevie told him. “We especially noticed that three horses who’d been playing touch football yesterday—”
“Touch football?” Ellen Katz said.
“Don’t mind Stevie,” Frank said, smiling. “She has a very active imagination.”
“But she’s also got sharp eyes, Dad,” Kate reminded him. “We were watching a pair of dun mares and a gelding play around yesterday. They definitely weren’t there this morning.”
“Do you think part of the herd might have split off?” Frank asked.
“Of course. That’s what I told the group, too. But when you add that to the call from Mr. Westerly …”
Stevie’s eyes lit up. “Horse rustlers!”
“Stevie!” Carole said, trying to shush her friend. She explained to the others, as if to apologize for Stevie’s well-known eccentricities, “Sometimes her imagination is too active. That’s when she can’t tell the difference between greenhorn dudes and horse thieves.”
“She might be on to something,” Frank said. “Westerly doesn’t have anywhere near as much land as the Bar None. If he says half his herd is missing, he’s been able to look everywhere. It’s possible they came on over to our land, but then how do we explain the fact that some of our horses seem to be missing?”
Carole looked at her nearly empty plate thoughtfully. “There could be a number of explanations,” she reasoned. “First, maybe no horses are missing. They just wandered out of sight and Mr. Westerly is too lazy to go look. Second, maybe some of his horses came onto your land and divided your herd and we only saw the remaining part. Or …” She paused, trying to think.
“Horse rustlers!” Stevie declared. Clearly her imagination was in high gear. Her eyes glowed with excitement. “I’ve seen movies about this,” Stevie said. “Trust me. You’ve got some mighty fierce varmits out there. Why, anyone who would take a mind to steal another man’s horseflesh is nothing but a low-down, rotten sidewinder.” With every word she spoke, Stevie slipped more deeply into a movie-cowboy caricature. By the time she got to declaring that horse rustling was a “hangin’ offense” and suggesting that they put together a posse to “give them critters what they deserve,” Lisa could barely contain her giggles.
Frank Devine had a more modest proposal. “While I appreciate your loyalty and good intentions, Stevie, I think you’ve taken it a bit too far. We do have modern criminal investigation techniques available to us these days, so I don’t think a ‘necktie party’ is quite what’s called for.”
“It was just an idea,” Stevie said meekly.
“Yes, I know,” said Frank, smiling. “But I think we need to have a better idea of what’s going on before we try to—what is it they say?”
“Take the law into our own hands?” Stevie suggested.
“Right,” Frank said. “Anyway, I think I’ll ride out and do the fence repairs myself. That’ll give me a chance to look around and make an assessment of—”
“Them dirty varmints?” Stevie offered.
“—the situation,” Frank finished.
“You don’t think it’s anything to worry about, do you, Dad?” Kate asked.
“I think any time you’ve got two breaks in a fence that didn’t have any breaks in it a few days ago, when your neighbor is complaining about missing horses and your own herd seems to be short, and when your daughter has seen strangers with poor excuses trespassing on your land—well, it’s a good time to assess the situation.”
Phyllis stood up and began clearing plates from the table.
“Be careful out there, dear,” Phyllis said to Frank. “I was listening to the weather forecast this morning. They’re calling for snow.”
“Well, it’s almost Christmas,” Frank said. “Of course there’
ll be snow.”
“Actually,” Phyllis said, “they mentioned something about rather a lot of snow.”
STEVIE EYED THE last pancake on the platter.
“You can’t,” Carole said.
“Can too,” Stevie said. She was always ready for a challenge, especially when the challenge involved pancakes. She slipped the flapjack onto her plate, buttered it, smothered it with maple syrup, and dug in. Slowly. She would do almost anything rather than admit she didn’t have room for just one more.
Kate appeared from the kitchen to wait for Stevie’s plate.
“Maybe she’ll just keep eating until lunchtime,” Carole said.
“Okay by me,” Kate said. “That’s one less plate to wash. And speaking of washing, I promised Mom I’d help her with the Christmas baking. It’s part of those Christmas traditions we have that I didn’t know we had until the Finnegans booked the Creek Suite. Anyway, it’ll keep me busy until lunch. Do you all have plans for the morning?”
Lisa stood up from the table and pushed her chair in. “I thought I might check my tack,” she said. “It might need a little cleaning.”
Stevie and Carole exchanged glances. Lisa’s tack was fine. Going to the barn after breakfast didn’t have anything to do with tack, but it did have a lot to do with John Brightstar.
“See you later,” Stevie said, excusing Lisa, who left with a little spring in her step.
“I’m out of here for a while, too,” Christine said. “But nothing near as romantic as cleaning tack. I’m meeting some school friends in town. We agreed to finish our Christmas shopping together. Anybody want to come along?”
“No, I’m all done with my shopping,” Carole said.
“Me too,” said Stevie.
“You are?” Carole asked.
“Sure,” Stevie said.
“Oh,” said Carole.
“Okay, well, then I’ll be back here for dinner. See you all then.”
“Bye,” they said.
Carole watched Stevie consume the last three bites of her pancake. She shook her head in awe. “I never thought I’d see someone eat fourteen pancakes at one meal.”
“Fifteen,” Stevie said. “But one of them was little.”
“You beat all,” Carole said.
“I always do,” said Stevie, wiping her mouth fastidiously. “I’m good at pancakes, but I’m a true sharpie at Monopoly. Want to try your luck?”
“Well, sure,” Carole said. “Free Parking?”
“Definitely.”
The two girls headed for the game closet in the lounge. They found the Monopoly box, and it took them only a few minutes to set up the game and begin. Stevie took the old shoe. Carole was the iron.
Stevie won the toss of the dice. She threw a ten. “One, two, three—oh, Just Visiting.” She moved the shoe to the space next to Jail. “Speaking of ‘just visiting,’ isn’t it nice that Lisa gets to visit with John while we’re here?”
Carole tossed the dice and ended up on Connecticut Avenue. She bought it. “I guess so,” Carole said. “But sometimes it seems as if she’s got a boyfriend wherever she goes.”
Stevie threw the dice and landed on Community Chest. “ ‘Second place in a beauty contest,’ ” she said, accepting ten dollars from Carole, the banker. “They aren’t really boyfriends,” she said. “I mean, not like Phil and me.”
“Maybe not,” Carole said as she bought New York Avenue. “But there are an awful lot of them.”
Stevie held the dice thoughtfully. “Okay, there’s John,” she said.
“And Enrico in England. Don’t forget about him,” Carole reminded her.
Enrico was an Italian boy who had come to America and whom Lisa had also seen in Italy. They’d become very close friends when The Saddle Club had traveled to England and competed against Enrico’s Pony Club team in mounted games.
“Oh, yes,” Stevie said, tossing the dice. “One, two, three, four—Chance.” She picked up a card. She gave the bank fifteen dollars for a poor tax. “Aren’t I ever going to get to buy anything?”
Carole moved to Illinois Avenue and bought it. “And don’t forget about Skye,” she said.
“Skye isn’t a boyfriend,” Stevie said. “He’s a famous movie star. That doesn’t make him a boyfriend.” The girls had met Skye Ransom when he’d fallen off a horse in New York City, trying to learn to ride for a movie. He was the heartthrob of twenty million teenage girls in America; but to The Saddle Club he was a friend. They’d taught him to ride and saved his job in the movie. They’d each seen him a couple of times when he’d returned to Virginia for visits. Lisa had had a very special time with him in California.
“He kissed her!” Carole said.
“It wasn’t a mushy kiss—just a nice kiss,” Stevie said. “Like they do in the movies.” She rolled an eight and went straight to Jail.
“But it was a kiss,” Carole said. She bought Marvin Gardens.
“Are you jealous?” Stevie said, putting her fifty dollars onto the center of the board. She rolled a ten and picked up her fifty dollars when she landed on Free Parking.
“No, I don’t think so,” Carole said as she bought North Carolina Avenue.
“But you’ve got Cam. He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?” A five and three combination got Stevie to Luxury Tax. She shelled out seventy-five dollars.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Carole said. “Cam’s a really nice guy and a good friend, but he’s not a boyfriend, exactly. And he’s so normal. Now, if I had a boy friend like Gary.…” She got a seven. That took her to Boardwalk.
Then Stevie saw what this was all about. Carole didn’t just like Gary because he was a great singer. She had a crush on him! Gary? The same boy who boasted mercilessly about how wonderful he was and then lied about climbing to Parson’s Rock?
Stevie was about to mention that, but she thought better of it. What harm could come from Carole’s having a crush on Gary? It was Carole’s crush, after all, not Stevie’s. They’d be leaving in two days. They’d never see the Finnegans again. And for a long time to come, whenever Carole heard one of the Finnegans’ songs, she could think about Gary with a warm spot in her heart. It seemed pretty harmless. It even seemed sort of nice.
Stevie rolled the dice. Six. That took her to Income Tax. She put her hard-earned two hundred dollars from passing Go back into the center of the board.
Carole rolled a six, too. She bought the Reading Railroad. Stevie rolled a three and moved her shoe to Chance.
“Advance token to Boardwalk,” she said. She handed Carole the fifty-dollar rent. “I don’t think this is working out for me,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Carole asked as she bought the Electric Company. “You’re about to pass Go again. That’ll get you another two hundred dollars.”
“Until I land on Income Tax again.” And she did just that. “So are you, like, interested in Gary?” Stevie asked. She was trying to sound subtle. She was also trying to keep Carole from knowing what she really thought about him.
“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Carole asked.
“Um, I guess so,” Stevie said, searching for something that would sound complimentary. “In a sort of country-western way.”
“Yeah,” said Carole.
Stevie realized then that it probably didn’t matter at all what she said. Carole was totally starstruck by Gary Finnegan.
“He’s a nice guy, Carole,” Stevie assured her. “I guess he’s used to having girls throw themselves at him, so I don’t think you should count on getting his attention.…” She landed on Chance. She didn’t even have to read the card. She knew exactly what it would say. Go to Jail.
“But he’s been so nice to me,” Carole said. “You should have seen the way he smiled when I went to get him this morning. I was so nervous and he was so nice. I thought my knees would collapse. He didn’t notice at all.”
While Stevie tried to roll doubles to free herself, Carole bought another railroad and two more properties.
&n
bsp; “You know, you’re right,” Stevie said, thinking out loud. “Gary has been particularly nice to you. He talks to you about his music and he rode next to you all the way back this morning.”
Carole picked up the deed for Ventnor. “Do you think I’ve got a chance?” she asked.
Stevie paid the fifty dollars to get out of Jail and threw the dice. She landed on Community Chest. “A better chance than I do of winning this game!” she said. She dropped another fifty dollars in the center of the board.
“But you didn’t even look,” Carole said.
“You do it for me,” Stevie said.
Carole picked up the card for Stevie. “Oh dear. ‘Pay Doctor’s Bill, fifty dollars,’ ” she read.
“See, Carole, some days all the luck runs one way.” Stevie handed Carole the dice.
Carole smiled to herself. She felt a nice shiver of delight. Stevie watched her best friend. She knew exactly what was on her mind, and it was pure Gary Finnegan.
Well, Carole was one of the most special people Stevie knew. Gary Finnegan would be the luckiest guy in the world if Carole fell for him.
Stevie tossed the dice. An eight took her to the B&O Railroad.
“Yippee!” Stevie shrieked.
“What are you cheering about?” Carole asked. “I own it already.”
Stevie handed her fifty dollars. She sighed. “Gee, I wonder when Lisa will be back from the barn,” she said.
Automatically, both she and Carole looked out the window toward the barn.
They couldn’t see it. The window was white. At first Stevie thought the shade was pulled down. But it was up. The window was totally white because it was snowing. Both girls ran to look out. They couldn’t see a foot in front of them.
“Now that’s snow!” Stevie said. Carole agreed.
“THIS IS MARSHMALLOW,” John said, introducing Lisa to a dappled brown horse.
Lisa patted the horse’s neck and looked into his sweet, dark eyes. “I get it,” she said. “He’s the color a marshmallow is supposed to be when it’s perfectly toasted over a campfire.”
“That’s right,” John said, smiling warmly at Lisa. She felt her insides melt a little bit, like a perfectly toasted marshmallow.
Western Star Page 5
