Riding to Win

by Bonnie Bryant

  Tanya had clearly been unhappy with the delay. But she had reluctantly agreed on the condition that she could bring her father by Pine Hollow on Friday afternoon to show him the horse he was buying her. Carole hadn’t been able to argue against that, so she had set up the visit for a little later that afternoon.

  Heaving herself up a little straighter in her chair, Carole glanced around the room at the others. Stevie was sitting in the chair beside her, fidgeting and looking slightly impatient. George was standing quietly against the wall of bookshelves, both hands in his pockets and a serene expression on his round face. Denise was perched on a stool she’d dragged in from the tack room, picking at her fingernails but otherwise seeming more attentive to Max’s words than the others. Ben, as usual, looked impassive and unreadable as he leaned against the door frame.

  Carole sighed as Max started talking about goals and challenges. Sneaking a peek at her watch, she could only hope that he would wind things up soon so that she would have time to finish some chores before Tanya arrived.

  While Carole was watching the clock, Stevie was thinking about her plans for her friend’s birthday gift. She had made some progress in the last two days, but she knew she still had more to do if she wanted to be ready in time. On her way home from Pine Hollow the day before, she had made a quick detour to the nearby shopping center and bought a nice frame. She had also managed to sneak Samson’s folder out of the stable office and make a quick copy of his entire pedigree on Deborah’s copier up at the house, pretending she was doing some kind of school project.

  It had been a lucky break to stumble upon a note in the shirt pocket of her thirteen-year-old brother, Michael, while she was doing laundry on Wednesday evening. That was how she had discovered that Michael’s girlfriend, Fawn, was really talented with a calligraphy set. Michael had been irate that Stevie had been snooping in his private correspondence, but Stevie had ignored him and gone directly to Fawn, who lived across the street. Fawn had gladly agreed to copy out Samson’s pedigree in fancy script, and Stevie had to admit that the younger girl had done a fantastic job. The pedigree looked professional and gorgeous, and she was sure that Carole would love it.

  Now the only missing piece of the puzzle was the photo. Stevie’s parents had banished her and Alex to the pool shed for most of Thursday afternoon, ordering them not to return to the house until the messy building was organized and spotless, so Stevie hadn’t even been able to get near the phone, let alone call Lisa. She knew that she was running out of time—during her trip to the shopping center, she’d discovered that the photo shop within the local drugstore was closed on Sundays, and that it took at least twenty-four hours to have a print blown up to the size Stevie wanted. That meant she needed to get the film over there by Saturday at the latest, and that day was going to be pretty well occupied by the horse show.

  That means I’ve got to get the film to the developer today, she thought anxiously, playing with the ends of her dark blond hair as Max droned on and on about the true meaning of success. I don’t have time to track Lisa down. Instead, Stevie had decided to take the picture of Samson herself. Her father’s camera was tucked into her backpack right now, sitting in her cubby in Pine Hollow’s locker room. All she had to do was find a free moment to use it.

  Glancing at the window behind Max, Stevie saw that the sun had finally peeked out from behind the clouds. It was the perfect moment to capture Samson on film. She had seen him in the back paddock, where Carole must have turned him out earlier to stretch his legs. Although her fingers itched to grab the camera and rush out there, she forced herself to stay put and pretend to listen. She would find the right moment just as soon as Max let them go. If he ever let them go …

  At that same moment, Callie was in the indoor ring with Maxi. The two of them were mounted once again on Windsor and Krona, practicing basic riding skills. Callie still couldn’t get over how quickly the little girl learned. She also couldn’t quite get over how much she herself was enjoying playing teacher. In fact, she’d had such a good time earlier that week that she had volunteered to watch Maxi today while Deborah worked on her article, and again the next day at the horse show.

  It will be fun to watch the show through her eyes, Callie thought, gazing across the ring at Maxi, who was carefully posting to Krona’s quick, slightly choppy trot. I’m sure she’s going to love every second of it. She can’t stop talking about how excited she is that we’re going together. I really think she thinks of me as her new best friend.

  She smiled at the thought. But her smile faded a bit as she remembered another friend who would be at the show the next day. George’s behavior hadn’t changed much since Thursday morning. He had still showed up that morning to walk her to chemistry class, and he saved her a seat beside him at lunch. If he’d been offended by her accusations the other day, he certainly wasn’t showing it, and Callie was grateful for that. She still couldn’t believe the way Scott had gotten her all worked up about George’s intentions.

  Just because Scott scams on practically every girl he meets, he shouldn’t assume all guys are the same way, she thought with a flash of irritation, not even caring that she was exaggerating at least a little bit. Thanks to him, I ended up looking totally paranoid. I’m just lucky George is nice enough to pretend it never happened.

  Despite her thoughts, however, Callie couldn’t help a slight, nagging feeling that something about her friendship with George still seemed odd. But she did her best to ignore that twinge of hesitation, telling herself it was just a lingering result of her little talk with her brother.

  Poor George, Callie thought, blinking at Maxi as she posted by, but not really seeing the little girl. All he wants is to be my friend, and I can’t stop being suspicious of him.

  She decided it was time to change that. Maybe she would never really be able to appreciate George as much as he deserved, but she was going to do her best. She could start by being extra nice to him at the horse show tomorrow. Maybe that would make up for how weird and wary and indecisive she’d been acting toward him lately.

  Stevie thought Max would never stop babbling on about self-improvement and good sportsmanship, but finally he released them from the meeting. After a hurried good-bye to the others, she raced out of the office and down the hall. She quickly grabbed her father’s camera out of her cubby, then made her way across the entryway toward the aisle leading to the back entrance. This time she forced herself to walk at a leisurely pace, not wanting to rouse any suspicions about what she was doing.

  “Stevie!” Max called to her from the hallway near the office.

  Stevie stopped short halfway across the entryway, feeling guilty. She was sure that Max would be less than thrilled if he found out she was spending time snapping photos when she should be getting herself and Belle ready for the show. Hiding the camera behind her back, she turned and smiled innocently at him. “Hi, Max,” she said. “Great speech back there. Very inspirational.”

  “Thanks,” Max said dryly, making Stevie wonder if he’d noticed that she had spaced out through most of his talk. “Look, if you see Carole before I do, could you ask her to bring Prancer in from the west paddock?”

  “Sure thing!” Stevie agreed brightly. As soon as Max turned away, she continued on her way.

  As soon as she took the turn into the stable aisle, she spotted Carole. Stevie quickly hid the camera behind her back again, though this time she needn’t have bothered. Carole’s complete attention was focused on the horse she had just put in cross-ties, a young dapple-gray mare named Firefly. The temperamental mare obviously wasn’t in the mood to be groomed at the moment, and she was letting Carole know it in no uncertain terms.

  “Are you okay?” Stevie asked with concern as Firefly shifted her hindquarters, almost stepping on Carole’s foot. Carole jumped out of the way just in time, but the grooming bucket wasn’t so lucky. Firefly’s hoof grazed it, tipping it and spilling its contents onto the ground.

  Carole glanced up and saw Stevie w
atching her. “Hi,” she said through clenched teeth as she kicked a stray currycomb out of the path and then moved to Firefly’s head, where she began stroking the mare’s neck soothingly. “We’ll be fine. Firefly’s really feeling her oats today, that’s all, and she’s still not crazy about this whole grooming deal. But she’ll settle down soon—she always does.”

  “Okay.” Stevie started to duck past them, then paused. “Oh, by the way,” she said, “Max was looking for you. He wants you to bring Prancer in from her paddock.”

  “He does?” Carole glanced from Stevie to Firefly and back again, looking desperate. “Yikes. I hate to ask, but would you mind getting Prancer? It’s going to take me a while to finish here, and then I promised Denise I’d help her give Talisman a bath—you know how he hates water. And Tanya’s coming by in a little while.…”

  “Enough said,” Stevie said quickly, sensing that her friend was on the verge of losing it. Things were always pretty crazy around the stable right before a show, and Stevie couldn’t even imagine the added pressure that was on Carole as she went through the painful process of selling her horse at the same time. “I’ll get her.”

  “Thanks,” Carole said gratefully before turning her attention back to Firefly.

  Stevie glanced at her watch and then hurried on her way. She was going to have to work fast. The photo shop closed in less than an hour.

  Luckily she didn’t pass anyone else on her way to the back paddock except for a couple of intermediate riders. Samson was standing in the middle of the small enclosure, dozing in the weak sunbeams struggling to break through the cloud cover.

  “Say cheese,” Stevie muttered, raising the camera and snapping a couple of shots of the muscular black horse at rest.

  Then she called to Samson to wake him up, hoping to get a few slightly more active poses. Samson obliged by trotting toward her to say hello, then stretching his legs by circling the ring before settling down to graze. Stevie used up the entire roll of film, getting a few close-ups and a lot of full body shots. When she heard the camera click into rewind mode, she nodded with satisfaction.

  “That should do the trick,” she muttered to herself. She might not be the photographer Lisa was, but it wasn’t as though her gift required some kind of fancy artistic composition or anything. Carole would be thrilled just to have a good, clear photo of her favorite horse to hang on her wall, and Stevie was sure she would be able to find a nice image out of the ones she’d just taken.

  It seemed to take forever for the film to rewind. Finally the camera clicked off, and Stevie opened the case and removed the roll, tucking it into her pocket for safety.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw that time was short. Alex had the car that day—her parents had wanted him to run errands for them after school again—so Stevie was going to have to walk, or rather run, over to the shopping center to drop off the film. It wasn’t a long way, but closing time was approaching rapidly.

  “Feet, don’t fail me now,” Stevie murmured as she headed around the side of the stable building toward the driveway. Partway there, she happened to glance out at the fields and paddocks ranged around the building. Several horses were grazing there, and suddenly Stevie remembered her promise to Carole. “Prancer!” she whispered, smacking herself on the head.

  She wasn’t sure what to do. The photo shop would close soon. Did she have time to walk out to the west paddock, round up Prancer, and settle her in her stall? She didn’t think so. Maybe I should go to the photo shop first and then come back and get Prancer, she thought, anxiously checking her watch again. Of course, that will make me late getting home, and it’s my turn to cook.…

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of giggling from nearby. Wandering forward, Stevie saw that a couple of intermediate riders, Juliet Phillips and Alexandra Foster, were standing near the parking area, drinking sodas.

  Getting a sudden flash of inspiration, Stevie raced over to them. “What are you guys doing right now?” she demanded.

  Juliet looked startled. “Nothing, Stevie,” she said. “Honest. We were just talking.”

  “Yeah,” Alexandra said. “Juliet’s mom is coming to pick us up in a little while, and, well …” She traded a sheepish glance with her friend. “Actually, we’re waiting out here because, you know …”

  “You didn’t want to get stuck doing stable chores.” Stevie almost smiled. Cleaning tack and mucking out stalls weren’t anybody’s idea of a good time, especially late on Friday afternoon. But she forced herself to look disapproving. “Hmmm. You know what Max would say about that. We’re all supposed to help out around here. It’s what keeps Pine Hollow running.”

  “We know,” Juliet said. She gazed at Stevie beseechingly. “You aren’t going to turn us in to Max, are you?”

  “Not if you do me a favor,” Stevie replied briskly. She jerked her head in the direction of the west paddock. “Go get Prancer and put her away in her stall. How about it?”

  “Sure.” Alexandra looked relieved. “We can do that.”

  “Good.” Stevie was relieved, too. As the younger girls turned and made their way toward the paddock, Stevie spun on her heel and jogged down the driveway. Now she would definitely be able to make it to the photo shop on time.

  Carole headed down the aisle toward the wash stall. She still had a few minutes before she was supposed to meet Denise for Talisman’s bath, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt to start warming up the water now. Talisman was one of Pine Hollow’s most reliable, talented, and experienced competition horses. But like many horses, the athletic chestnut gelding had his quirks, which in his case included an intense distaste for baths. Actually, he wasn’t crazy about water in any incarnation, although Denise had worked with him to the point where he would tolerate putting his foot in a stream or a water jump. But he was always the first horse under shelter whenever it started to rain, and the stable staff was under strict orders that nobody should try to bathe him on their own.

  Carole knew he needed a bath that day if he was going to look his best when Denise rode him in the show. She was always glad to help, although just this once she couldn’t stop herself from wishing that Denise had asked someone else. There was so much to do, and then there was Tanya’s upcoming visit to worry about on top of it all.

  As Carole passed Starlight’s stall on her way to the wash stall, she stopped short in shock. Tanya was already there, running a rag over the gelding’s back and making his already spotless mahogany coat gleam. A man in an expensive-looking business suit was leaning on the half door, watching.

  For a second, Carole felt a sharp flash of annoyance. Couldn’t Tanya wait even one more day before she started acting like Starlight was her horse?

  Then the anger passed as quickly as it had come. Of course she can’t wait another day, she thought. Neither could I, if I were in her place. And I wouldn’t want it to be any different. It shows how excited she is to have him, and how crazy she is about him. Those are good things.

  Glancing at her watch, which showed that Tanya was more than half an hour early again, Carole bit back a sigh and then stepped forward to introduce herself to Mr. Appel. As she chatted politely with Tanya’s father, Carole caught a glimpse of Max hurrying by at the end of the aisle. She also saw him do a double-take when he spotted the strange man standing in his stable aisle. But he didn’t do more than shoot Carole a curious glance before hurrying on, and Carole was glad. She was lucky that Max was too busy to come over and see what was going on, or her secret would have been out.

  “Hi, Carole.” Tanya grinned, letting herself out of the stall and stuffing her grooming rag into her jeans pocket. “Sorry I’m early again. I just couldn’t wait to see Starlight again.”

  Carole forced a smile. “That’s okay,” she said. “So, are we all set for tomorrow evening?”

  Tanya nodded. “Daddy arranged to borrow a horse trailer from my riding instructor. Right, Daddy?”

  “That’s right, pumpkin.” Mr. Appel smiled indulgently at
his daughter.

  Tanya grabbed her father’s arm and squeezed it fondly before returning her attention to Carole. “And there’s a stall all ready for him at my stable,” she said. “All I have to do is get a nameplate.”

  “Don’t bother.” Carole’s voice sounded a little weak, even to herself, as she imagined Tanya leading Starlight into a strange stall at a strange stable. She gestured at the brass nameplate on the wall nearby. “You can have this one. I’ll make sure someone unscrews it for you by tomorrow night.”

  “Really?” Tanya’s eyes lit up. She reached out and ran her fingers over Starlight’s name, which was etched in the brass. “Thanks, Carole! That’s so nice. And don’t worry—if you miss Starlight when he’s gone, you can come visit him anytime.” Before Carole could answer, Tanya clapped her hands and laughed out loud. “I’m so excited!” she cried, grabbing Carole by the arm. “This is so amazing. I can’t believe I’m really getting my own horse. Isn’t it cool, Daddy?”

  Mr. Appel nodded. “Of course, pumpkin,” he said. “I just hope you’re sure this is the horse you really want.” He cast an uncertain glance at Starlight.

  Tanya ignored him. “Let’s make it official, okay?” she told Carole. She giggled. “Whenever Daddy makes a business deal, he seals it with a handshake. Right, Daddy?”

  “That’s right, pumpkin.” Mr. Appel looked amused. “You two go ahead and shake, and then we’d better get going. We’ll talk about your new horse more later.”

  “Okay.” Tanya stuck out her hand. “Deal?”