“Well, that little experiment didn’t work, did it, Tiny?” she said bleakly.
The mare snorted and nuzzled her, almost knocking her off her feet.
“You’re right.” Lisa gave a rueful smile. “I guess I might as well sit down. I’m sure not going anywhere right now.”
Still holding on to the tree, she carefully lowered herself to a sitting position. That hurt almost as much as standing, but the ground was wet and she really didn’t want to lie down. Besides, that would feel too much like giving up.
She wrapped her arms around herself, being careful not to further injure her left wrist. The wind was getting stronger, blowing the rain straight through the sparse spring leaves in the treetops. Lisa shivered from the cold, and her skin felt clammy. She guessed that she was probably in a mild state of shock from the fall. She tried to remember what she was supposed to do about that—something about elevating her feet. Or was it her head?
Either way, Lisa decided it wasn’t going to happen. She had all she could do to stay calm and try to come up with a plan. Now, if she could just focus …
It was no good. Her brain didn’t seem to be working. And she was so cold.… “Oh, Tiny,” she cried, shivering violently despite her warm sweater. “I can’t walk. I can’t ride. I can hardly move. And nobody even knows I’m out here!”
The truth of the last statement suddenly struck her. Marguerite thought that Lisa had gone straight back to the stable and then home on the bus. Maybe she would notice that Tiny was missing, realize what must have happened, and send help. Then again, maybe not. After all, Tiny’s stall was tucked away in the back of the stable somewhere. If Marguerite didn’t bother to check on the big gray horse—which she almost certainly wouldn’t—there was no telling how long it would be until Tiny was missed. It might not be until the grooms started the evening feeding. When would that be?
Lisa glanced at her watch. The glass was gone, and the face was mangled and unreadable. She realized that the watch, like her wrist, had smashed into the tree trunk in her fall.
Lisa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep the rain out and the tears in. After a moment, she heard a snuffling, grunting sound. She opened her eyes and saw that Tiny was slowly, ponderously lowering herself to the ground nearby. Lisa watched in amazement as the mare tucked her front legs to one side and wiggled her hindquarters, making herself comfortable on the wet grass.
“Tiny?” Lisa whispered.
She moved toward the horse, doing her best not to aggravate her injuries. Soon she was close enough to lean back carefully against Tiny’s broad, strong shoulder. The mare’s skin felt soft and warm. Lisa wiped most of the moisture off the saddle and leaned back farther, allowing her body to relax.
Tiny turned her head and sniffed at Lisa’s hair. Then she let out a soft, horsey sigh and let her eyelids droop. Lisa let her eyes close partway, too, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the big body supporting her.
“SO YOU’RE EXCITED about this,” Stevie said, her eyes glowing. “Right? Right?”
Carole bit her lip. She glanced at Starlight, who was standing patiently in cross-ties as the two girls groomed him. Then she grinned. “Well—let’s not say excited,” she said. “How about just sort of interested?”
“That’s good enough for me!” Stevie grinned back. She was feeling extremely proud of herself. She had just managed to do the one thing she had been plotting for the last week: set up a date for Carole and Tate.
Okay, Stevie admitted to herself as she ran a body brush down Starlight’s side, so technically maybe it wasn’t exactly a date. All she had done was invite Tate to join The Saddle Club at TD’s in a little while. But it was a start.
“This will give you and Tate a chance to really get to know each other,” Stevie said with satisfaction. “Away from all the distractions of the stable—including a certain Veronica diAngelo.”
Carole looked up from working a knot out of Starlight’s mane. “Are you sure he really wanted to come?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about all this. One part of her kept remembering the things about Tate that bothered her, like when he’d left his tack uncleaned or when he was snippy with Simon. But another part of her couldn’t wait to talk to him more about horses and find out just how much he really knew. The more she heard him talk, the more impressed she was with the depth of his knowledge. Was being in awe the same as liking someone?
“Of course he wanted to come,” Stevie said, sounding a little impatient. “He’s crazy about you. I have a sixth sense about these things, trust me. And who can blame him? You two are perfect for each other.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Carole said slowly, dropping the comb she’d been using into Starlight’s grooming bucket.
Stevie shrugged. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “And you don’t have to worry. Tate may be a little rough around the edges—what guy isn’t?—but he knows horses. That’s the important thing, right?”
“I guess so.” Carole decided not to worry about it anymore. It wasn’t as if it were a real date. After all, Stevie and Lisa would be there, too. She gave Starlight a pat. “I think we’re just about finished here. Should we put him away and then go check on Calypso one more time?”
Stevie tossed the body brush into the bucket. “Sounds good to me,” she said. “We don’t need to leave to meet Lisa for half an hour or so. Let’s go.”
The two girls were walking down the aisle toward Calypso’s stall a few minutes later when they heard excited voices coming from around the corner. Stevie stopped in her tracks when she recognized Veronica’s voice. “What’s she still doing here?” she muttered. She had hoped the other girl had finally gone home and left Tate in peace.
“… Anyway, he’s totally adorable, don’t you think?” Veronica was saying, sounding very pleased with herself as usual. “We’ll make a perfect couple.”
There was an answering giggle; then someone said, “Totally! You’re perfect for each other.”
“That’s Betsy Cavanaugh,” Carole whispered. Betsy was in their riding class and was a friend of Veronica’s.
Stevie put a finger to her lips and leaned forward to listen again.
“I know,” Veronica was saying, sounding more self-satisfied than ever. “So I just heard Max and Red talking. They’re both going to be working with Tate in a few minutes. I guess he’s so talented that he needs two instructors.”
“Awesome,” Betsy said.
“Uh-huh,” Veronica said smugly. “And I’m definitely going to be there to watch.”
Stevie had heard all she needed to hear. She tiptoed away from the corner, gesturing for Carole to follow.
“Did you hear that?” she demanded grimly.
Carole nodded. “I heard it. What do we do now?”
“We can’t let her mess up our plan. We’re so close!” Stevie paced back and forth, frowning thoughtfully. Suddenly she stopped and snapped her fingers. “Of course!” she said. “It’s so simple. We beat her at her own game.”
Carole wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
Stevie was grinning now. “I mean you should be the one to show up for Tate’s private lesson, not Veronica.”
“But we don’t even know where the lesson is,” Carole protested.
“Of course we do.” Stevie pointed up at the roof. Rain was still drumming down on it. “It’s in the indoor ring. Where else?”
Carole grinned. “And I thought Lisa was the logical one,” she teased. Her grin faded. “But Veronica—”
“Leave her to me,” Stevie said firmly. She grabbed Carole by the arm and dragged her down the aisle toward the indoor ring. “You just get in there.”
“Wait.” Carole yanked her arm away and stopped. “We can’t go. We have to check on Calypso before we leave for TD’s.”
Stevie sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, she glanced around the aisle. Voices were coming from a nearby stall. “That sounds like Britt,” she said,
listening carefully. “And Polly.” She hurried toward the stall.
Minutes later, it was settled. The other two girls promised to look in on Calypso, and Stevie was once again dragging Carole down the aisle.
This time Carole didn’t resist. She and Stevie almost collided with Veronica in the open area just outside the entrance to the indoor ring.
Veronica frowned when she saw them. “What are you two doing here?” she asked in a nasty tone of voice.
“Looking for you,” Stevie said smoothly. She dropped Carole’s arm and took Veronica’s instead. “Um, you have a phone call. In Mrs. Reg’s office.”
Veronica looked suspicious. She glanced from Stevie to the door of the indoor ring and back again. “What are you talking about?”
Stevie smiled innocently. “A phone call,” she said. She decided to take a wild guess. “Um, I think it’s your tailor. Something about your new designer riding jacket being lost in a terrible tailor shop fire—”
“What!” Veronica exclaimed. “Get out of my way! I’ve got to get to that phone!” She shoved past Stevie and rushed down a nearby hallway toward Mrs. Reg’s office.
Stevie grinned. She hadn’t known that Veronica was having a designer jacket made. It had just been a hunch. But it went to show exactly how predictable Veronica really was.
“Okay,” Stevie told Carole cheerfully, gesturing toward the door. “He’s all yours. I’ll guard the door in case she comes back.”
Carole gulped and glanced at the door. She could hear voices coming from behind it; the lesson must have already started. “Okay,” she said. “Wish me luck!”
RAIN DRIPPED DOWN Lisa’s face, mixing with her tears. She was getting desperate. She had no idea how much time had passed since her fall. It didn’t help that she thought she might have dozed off for a while, leaning against Tiny. But in any case, she was sure that she had been out there for a long time. It wasn’t dark, but she knew it would be soon. Marguerite hadn’t returned yet, which meant that she hadn’t noticed anything was wrong.
That meant Lisa wouldn’t be missed until Tiny’s dinnertime. Or maybe even until her parents got home to Willow Creek and found out she wasn’t there.
Lisa knew she couldn’t lie there that long. Even the warmth of Tiny’s big body couldn’t keep her warm all night. At least the rain had slowed. There was just a faint drizzle now, working its way through the leaves.
“Okay, Tiny,” Lisa said. Her voice came out in a croak, and she cleared her throat. “Okay,” she said again. “It’s time to take some action.”
She had to try to move again, no matter how much it hurt. That was all there was to it. There was a large, jagged rock nearby. If she could step up onto that, she could mount Tiny. And once she was in the saddle, as long as she kept the big mare to a gentle walk, she would ride.
“Come on, girl,” Lisa said. “Time to get up.” She pushed herself away from the horse’s side. Her muscles screamed in protest, along with her injured back and leg. She had been lying in the same position for so long that even her uninjured limbs were stiff.
Ignoring that, she sat up as straight as she could, resting her weight on her right hand. By pushing with her right leg, she got herself into a crawling position. Then she paused for breath.
Tiny had been watching closely. She let out a tremendous snort and lurched quickly to her feet. She stepped over to Lisa and put down her head to examine the girl’s face.
Lisa couldn’t help smiling as she felt the mare’s hot breath on her forehead. “Good girl, Tiny,” she gasped. She crawled carefully over to the rock, trying not to notice the hammering pain in her back or the sweat breaking out on her forehead.
When she reached the rock, Lisa whistled for Tiny. The horse came to her immediately, and Lisa once again hauled herself up by the stirrup.
“Boy, am I glad I tightened that girth nice and snug,” she muttered.
Soon she was standing—sort of. She leaned heavily against Tiny, still keeping a firm grip on the saddle with her good hand. Then she cautiously lifted her injured leg onto the top of the rock and gingerly put some weight on it. It almost buckled beneath her, but Lisa gritted her teeth and continued.
A few long, painful minutes later, she was on top of the rock, leaning against the saddle. Lisa knew that she wasn’t going to be able to mount in the usual way, from the left side of the horse. Her left foot wouldn’t support her weight while she swung her right foot over.
When she thought about that, tears of frustration welled up in her eyes again. This was ridiculous. Even if she turned the mare around and tried to mount from the right, there was no way she could do it. Her back hurt when she sat up or turned her head. How was she going to get into the saddle—and stay there?
She collapsed against the saddle in despair. Tiny turned her head to see what she was doing, whickering quizzically.
“Oh, Tiny,” Lisa said. “This is hopeless.” She looked around. From her new, slightly higher position atop the rock, she could see a little farther into the woods around her. A few yards away, on the other side of a slight rise, she spotted a small, tumbling stream, swollen with the rain.
Lisa gritted her teeth and made a vow. She was going to get to that stream. Then Tiny could take a drink, and Lisa could rinse off her sweaty face and maybe soak her sore wrist. She didn’t know what would happen after that, but she decided not to think about it. The stream was her only goal.
She leaned more of her weight onto Tiny’s back again, preparing herself for the jarring step down off the rock.
“Okay, Tiny,” she muttered determinedly. “Here goes nothing.”
STEVIE WAS STILL standing guard when Carole and Tate emerged from the indoor ring. Twenty minutes had passed, and except for one more encounter with Veronica, Stevie hadn’t seen a soul. She had been tempted to peek inside and see how the lesson was going, but she hadn’t let herself do it. She knew Carole would give her all the details later.
Carole had a funny look on her face when she came out. Stevie wasn’t sure what it meant. Was Carole madly in love? Or had Tate been such a fantastic rider that she was jealous?
“Hi, guys,” Stevie said brightly. “How was the lesson?”
“Great,” Tate said with a grin. “Max let me ride a really cool horse today. His name’s Patch.”
Stevie was a little surprised. Patch was a very calm, steady horse. Usually Max only put new or nervous riders on the gentle gelding. Stevie would have expected Tate to ride one of the more spirited intermediate-level horses, maybe Barq or Comanche. Still, she figured Max had his reasons. He usually did.
Right now Stevie was a lot less interested in that than she was in figuring out what was up with Carole. She definitely looked strange. Besides, Stevie was dying to tell her how she had gotten rid of Veronica the second time. She had to figure out a way to get Carole alone before they all left for TD’s.
Fortunately, Tate saved her the trouble. “Hey, I know we’re supposed to leave soon for the ice cream place,” he said. “Can I just call my folks and tell them? It will only take a minute.”
“No problem,” Stevie said quickly. “Take your time. I want to change out of my boots, anyway.”
Tate headed for the pay phone, whistling cheerfully as he walked. Stevie grabbed Carole, who was still just standing there with that odd look on her face, and dragged her toward the student locker room.
“Boy, it’s a good thing I stayed outside to guard the door,” Stevie said as they entered. “Veronica came back after about five minutes, steaming mad because she figured out I made up that story. I practically had to block the door with my body to keep her from going in.” She grinned proudly as she kicked her boots off and tossed them in the general direction of her cubby. “Then I started telling her about Tate. I told her how I’d been talking to him, and he said his family is really poor—destitute was the word I used, actually. I learned that one from Lisa. It means really, really poor.”
“Really?” Carole said. She looked kind of
distracted, and Stevie wasn’t sure she was listening. “Um, Stevie—”
“That’s not all,” Stevie interrupted eagerly, waving one sneaker in the air. “It gets better. I knew that if I really wanted to turn her off, I had to make it worse than him just being poor. So I told her his father had been in jail and his mother raised chickens in the house, and—”
“Stevie!” Carole spoke more firmly this time. She glanced over at the doorway. “Listen to me for a second.”
“What?” Stevie said. “I was just— Oh! I meant to ask you. How was the lesson? Are you madly in love?”
Carole took a deep breath. “Not quite,” she said. “I—I just found out something kind of surprising.”
Stevie looked up from tying her sneaker. Carole looked so serious that Stevie couldn’t imagine what she was going to say next. “What is it?” she demanded.
Carole checked the door again, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Tate …” She paused and bit her lip. “Tate is a horrible rider!”
Stevie gasped and let her foot fall to the floor. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s horrible,” Carole said. “He’s inconsiderate and heavy-handed, and he sits in the saddle like a sack of potatoes. He kept jerking poor Patch’s head all around, and nothing Max and Red said seemed to make any difference.” She shook her head. “Didn’t you notice that he didn’t have Patch with him when he came out? I’m pretty sure it’s because Max didn’t trust that he could cool a horse out properly. He offered to do it himself.”
Stevie let out a low whistle. “Wow,” she said. “Who would have guessed?”
“Not me,” Carole said ruefully. “I was so impressed with all his knowledge that it never occurred to me he wouldn’t be able to ride. You know what the worst part is? I don’t think Tate even realizes how bad he is. He doesn’t communicate with his horse at all.”
Horse Care Page 8
