Carole pulled the covers up to her ears. Her mind was filled with thoughts of the horses safe in the Bar None corral. Her thoughts drifted to her favorite horse, Starlight. She’d see him tonight. She’d hug him tonight. She’d ride him tonight. And tomorrow was Christmas …
Stevie pounded her pillow and then put her head on it. A little more sleep was a good idea. She would need her strength. Tonight, back home, was the Starlight Ride. And she was going to be in the lead! She’d joked with Max about playing Follow the Leader and she mostly didn’t mean it, but she was going to have fun, and so was everybody else. And then tomorrow was Christmas. Her last thoughts were of mounds of presents collecting underneath the Lake family Christmas tree, and some of them were for her!
These were the stuff their dreams were made of. The girls slept.
“Hello! Anybody there?”
There was a knock at the door. Stevie sat up abruptly, knocking her head on the bunk above her.
“Ouch!” she cried.
“What?” Carole said through a sleepy haze.
“Good morning!”
Lisa opened her eyes. Bright sunshine streamed through the cabin windows. She looked at her watch and then blinked. It was eight-thirty and somebody was knocking at the door.
“Who’s at the door?” Carole asked.
“More important, how did someone get to the door?” Stevie asked, rubbing her head.
“You girls ever going to wake up?” asked the voice from outside.
It was John Brightstar. Lisa forgot she was already dressed and instinctively pulled the covers up higher. “Good morning!” she said.
“Well, is that all the thanks I’m going to get for digging you out?”
“Come on in,” Kate said.
John opened the door. He had managed to get snow all over himself in the effort of digging a path.
“I think it’s the abominable snowman disguised as John Brightstar,” said Christine.
“No, it’s the other way around,” John said, shaking snow onto the floor. “Because I don’t think Mr. Abominable would bother to tell you that there is a distinct odor of French toast and bacon coming from the kitchen at the main lodge, and those who want breakfast should find a place at the table before the lady who runs the joint stops serving at nine o’clock.”
Five fully dressed girls bounded out of bed, thumping loudly as they landed on the floor of the cabin in their stocking feet. They yanked on their boots and coats and dashed out of the bunkhouse.
“Thanks for digging us out!” Lisa said.
“My pleasure,” John said, closing the door behind her. And then, before he returned to the stable, he said to her, “See you later.”
She nodded. She definitely wanted to save a few minutes to say good-bye to John before they went home that afternoon. She’d go over to the barn after breakfast.
A stack of French toast and large glasses of fresh orange juice welcomed the girls to the table.
“Help yourselves,” said Phyllis as she placed a platter of bacon in front of Stevie.
“And what are the rest of you having?” Stevie said, taking a large serving for herself.
“Very funny,” said Kate. She took some bacon and passed the platter around to everyone else.
“Well, good morning!” Frank Devine greeted the girls. He sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee, but turned down the offer of breakfast.
“I ate hours ago,” he said. “It’s been a busy morning here while you girls were lolling around in your bunks.”
“What’s been happening?” Lisa asked curiously.
“Well, a number of things, and they all seem to concern you girls,” Frank said. “First and foremost, I spoke with the sheriff about our horse thieves—or should I say, your horse thieves? Anyway, he said that last night he went back to town and he and his deputy had a few conversations with that pair. They explained to them about the herd of horses that had been rescued by ‘reliable witnesses,’ and he could see that the thieves were getting nervous.”
Stevie grinned. “I bet he really made them sweat!” she said.
“They tried to shrug it off, saying there may have been some horses at the cabin or there may not, no matter what reliable witnesses said, but there was nothing saying that they had anything to do with the horses,” said Frank.
“I wish I could have been there,” Stevie said. “I could have wrung a confession out of those varmints!”
“Well, for all practical purposes, you did,” said Frank. “Or, more accurately, Lisa did.”
“Me?” Lisa asked.
“The cigarette butts!” Stevie declared. “It worked!”
“It worked, all right,” Frank said. “The sheriff started out talking about the coincidence of the fact that those were the very same brand one of those guys smoked. They tried to wiggle out of that. But when the sheriff got to talking about things like fingerprints and DNA evidence, the two crooks totally fell apart. They knew they were goners and they confessed everything.”
“Yahoo!” Stevie said.
“They gave the name of the guy who apparently masterminded the whole scheme, and the sheriff set plans into motion that could end up capturing a whole ring of horse thieves. Those cigarette butts didn’t just save fifty horses—they may put a half dozen men in jail!”
“Is there a reward?” Stevie asked.
“Stevie!” Lisa said. “I don’t care about that!”
“I’m just asking.” Stevie shrugged. Her imagination tended toward chests of gold and jewels. Her friends often had to curb that kind of thinking on Stevie’s part.
“No, no reward that I know of,” said Frank.
“Knowing that we saved those horses is all the reward we need,” said Carole, speaking for all of them, Stevie included.
“Well, maybe there’s no reward, but there will be a celebration tonight, and Phyllis and I will be proud to host it,” Frank said.
“Too bad we won’t be here,” said Lisa. “But take lots of pictures and send them to us, won’t you?”
“Well, that’s the other thing you’ve been sleeping through,” he said.
“What?” Carole asked, suddenly suspicious that this might not be as good as the first news Frank had told them.
“We had about fifteen more inches of snow here last night. A lot of the range is clear because the snow drifted across the open spaces. John claimed that most of it seemed to drift up against your cabin door! I’m not sure about that, but the fact is that most of the rest of the ranch is passable. It appears, however, that whatever didn’t drift up against your cabin door drifted onto the runway at the airport. Or maybe it just snowed harder there. That happens, too. They are reporting two feet of snow with drifts of up to eight feet.”
“Wow. It must have been hard for them to get the place open,” said Carole.
“Turns out, it was impossible,” said Frank. “They can’t get it open. It’s totally snowbound.”
“Are you saying snowbound?” Stevie asked. Frank nodded.
The word sank in.
“Until when?” Lisa asked, gulping.
“A couple of days at least. I think it should be clear by Friday.”
“But that means …,” Lisa began. She couldn’t finish. Everybody knew what it meant. It meant no pot roast for Lisa’s Christmas Eve dinner. It meant no eggs Benedict for Stevie Christmas morning. It meant no Kwanzaa kinara for Carole Christmas night. It meant no presents and no Christmas at home.
“I’ve spoken with your folks,” said Frank. “You can all call them whenever you want to, but I wanted them to know about the change in plans right away. Stevie, your mother said she didn’t think she could keep your brothers away from their presents one second past dawn tomorrow, but she promised they’d have Christmas all over again on Saturday after you get home.”
Stevie laughed. She could just see her brothers plowing into the pile of presents. It wasn’t always a pretty sight. Maybe it was better to miss it after all!
“Carole and Lisa, your parents promised to hold everything until you get back.”
“I guess there are advantages to being an only child,” Lisa said, laughing. She often envied Stevie the rowdy bunch that were her brothers. But with only one child at home, it was easier to change the date of Christmas. Carole had similar thoughts.
“So, Phyllis and I would like to invite you all to have Christmas here at the Bar None with us and Kate and our other guests. You, too, Christine. You’re welcome to stay. We’ll try to make the holiday as special and as individual as everybody who’s here.”
“Since Stevie, Carole, and Lisa can’t be with their families, I guess it’s only fair if I stay here, too, and do what I can to make them feel at home,” Christine said.
Kate looked at her four best friends and felt a glow of warmth. Being with friends was wonderful most of the time, but being with family on Christmas was important. She’d feel funny if she were in their place. But she also knew that her parents were wonderful at making Christmas right for everybody, no matter what their idea of “right” was.
“Don’t worry,” she said to her friends. “We’ll make this Christmas special. We just have to figure out how to do it.”
Stevie had an odd feeling. She loved being with Kate and she supposed it wasn’t going to matter too much if she didn’t have her actual Christmas until Saturday. That could wait. But there was something else that wasn’t going to wait for her, something that might come only once in a lifetime. It was her favorite Pine Hollow tradition. She gulped when she realized what she was missing. Suddenly it was harder to be a good sport about being snowbound.
Carole glanced at her. In an instant she knew exactly what Stevie was thinking. But Carole hadn’t spent years being Stevie’s best friend without learning a thing or two from her.
“I say,” she began. “Does anybody here have a torch?”
Stevie decided right then that she had the best friends in the whole world.
“HERE YOU GO, Stevie,” Frank Devine said, handing her a torch. “In the summertime we use this to keep mosquitoes away from the picnic area. In the wintertime it seems like it will do very nicely for you to hold while you take the lead in the Bar None’s newest Christmas tradition, the Starlight Ride!”
Carole and Lisa clapped loudly. If they couldn’t be at the Pine Hollow Starlight Ride, then the next best thing was to bring the ride to the Bar None.
Back at Pine Hollow, the Starlight Ride sometimes had as many as thirty or forty riders. Here on the Bar None, it was just going to be the five members of The Saddle Club. They hadn’t invited Gary, and he hadn’t asked to come along. Nobody seemed in the least bit upset about that.
Stevie, Lisa, and Carole were on their horses. Kate and Christine were in a sled. Christine had pointed out that if they were going to take a ride, it would be a good idea to go back to where the main herd was and take some fresh hay with them. Frank Devine tucked blankets over their laps for warmth.
Walter had harnessed up a pair of horses to the flatbed sled, and John secured six bales of hay to the back.
“Drive carefully now,” he said.
“We will,” Kate said, flicking the reins. Much to her surprise, when the horses moved forward, the sound of tinkling bells rang out. Walter had found some sleigh bells and had attached them to the harness. It was just what the group needed to remind them of exactly what their mission was: fun.
Stevie took a deep breath. The crisp air filled her lungs. It wasn’t even night yet. It was just past five o’clock, but it was already dark this time of year and that was an important part of the Starlight Ride. Five o’clock at the Bar None was seven o’clock at Pine Hollow. Two thousand miles away, another group of riders was doing exactly what The Saddle Club was doing: starting the Starlight Ride. Stevie smiled to herself.
There was something they were doing that night that wasn’t part of the Starlight Ride, and that was checking on the herd. Earlier that day, Frank and his neighbors had sorted out the stolen horses. Frank had released his own horses back onto the range. John and his father had guided them toward the rest of the herd. Sometimes when herds split, it is difficult to get them to reunite. The girls told the Devines they wanted to be sure that they were getting along. They each knew that they just wanted a chance to see the horses they’d saved one more time before they returned home.
Stevie held the torch high. “Forward, ho!” she cried out. The ride began. She was followed by Carole, who had decided to wear a Santa Claus hat just in case anybody forgot that it was Christmas Eve; and then by Lisa, who found the whole scene breathtaking. Kate and Christine brought up the rear, their bells ringing brightly.
As soon as they got beyond the immediate area of the corrals around the Bar None, the snow became shallower.
“Sometimes it’s like that out here,” Kate explained. “The snow will be four feet deep around the ranch and little more than a few inches out here on the range. The wind pushes it around a lot, but it also falls in odd patterns. I guess it has to do with the mountains.”
“Don’t care what causes it,” Stevie said. “I’m just glad we can ride and the horses can make it through.”
They could. In some ways the trail they were blazing through the fresh-fallen snow was a familiar one. After all, they’d traveled out to the horse herd three times since they’d arrived at the Bar None on Sunday. But each time it had been different. The time of day, the light from the sky, the snow on the ground—everything combined to make each trip unique. Tonight it was dark, but there were no clouds. The sky above was an enormous expanse of deep purple blue, studded with stars that sparkled like diamonds. It made the snow-covered world completely visible, amost as in daylight.
“Oh!” Lisa said. “It always surprises me when I see the sky out here.”
“What’s so surprising?” Christine asked.
“Well, all those sparkly things, for one,” Stevie explained.
“When you live as close to a big city as we do, the night lights of the city reflect into the sky and obscure the stars,” Lisa explained logically.
“To say nothing of the air pollution of a densely populated area,” Carole added.
“So you don’t see stars?”
“We see some, but not like this,” Lisa said. “Oh, you can spot some of the constellations if you can get to a large open area, like a ball field. I can find the Big Dipper and Orion, but then—what’s that?” she asked, scanning the sky.
“What’s what?” Carole said.
“That,” said Lisa. She pointed to the sky in front of them. There were seemingly thousands of stars there, but one was brighter than all the rest.
“You’re the expert on the night skies,” said Carole.
“It’s not part of Orion or the Big Dipper,” said Lisa. “At least I don’t think it is.” She looked around the sky. The bright star was nowhere near her familiar constellations.
“I bet it’s the evening star,” Stevie said.
“That’s supposedly Venus, then,” said Carole.
“Not necessarily,” said Lisa. “At least I don’t think it’s always Venus. Evening star just means the first bright starlike thing that appears each evening.”
“Aren’t we supposed to wish on it, then?” Stevie asked.
“Sounds good to me,” Carole said.
In unison the girls recited the poem:
“Starlight, star bright,
First star I’ve seen tonight,
Wish I may, wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight.”
“What did you wish for?” Stevie asked.
“Can’t tell or it won’t come true,” said Lisa.
“I think my wish already did come true,” said Stevie.
“I’m glad we found a way for you to lead the Starlight Ride, even if we’re not home,” said Lisa.
Stevie smiled. Lisa was right about what Stevie had been wishing for.
The riders passed Parson’s Rock and then took the turn that w
ould lead them to the herd of horses. The snow remained relatively shallow, and Stevie could feel Stewball prancing through the whiteness. He was having as much fun as she was.
“There they are!” Stevie declared as the group reached the rise.
And there they were. A herd of more than fifty horses filled the meadow, standing and nibbling at an occasional stalk of frozen grass. Tails swished, hooves pawed at the snow. The moonlight gleamed across the white expanse and seemed to shimmer on the backs of the horses.
“Isn’t that the most beautiful sight in the world?” Stevie asked.
“Yeah,” Carole and Lisa agreed.
They fell silent as they watched the horses living free, under the star-studded night in the snow-filled meadow. It was utterly quiet because the snow on the ground muffled all the sounds except for the occasional whisper of the winter wind.
“Look, there are the dun mares!” Lisa finally said. The two horses were standing side by side, head to tail, apparently content. Just then, however, their peaceful moment was broken by the arrival of the frisky chestnut gelding. He burst between them and frolicked across the field. The mares followed him.
“Tag! You’re it!” Carole said, speaking for the gelding.
“Hey, let’s unload the sled,” Stevie said. It wasn’t exactly that she was in a hurry to have the ride end, but Phyllis had said something about cocoa and marshmallows, and then there was dinner …
Kate and Christine drove the sled up to the lean-to, which was still standing. It was nearly empty, so the girls were glad they had brought more hay. Stevie dismounted, stuck the flaming torch into a snowbank, and grabbed one end of a bale. Christine took the other. They heaved it into the lean-to. Christine took out a knife and cut the wire. Stevie stood and waited.
A kind of grunting sound filtered into the lean-to. It startled Stevie because it didn’t sound like anything she’d heard before. She listened. There it was again.
“What was that?” Stevie asked Christine.
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