MEET
THE SADDLE CLUB
Horse lover CAROLE …
Practical joker STEVIE …
Straight-A LISA …
#1 HORSE CRAZY
#2 HORSE SHY
#3 HORSE SENSE
#4 HORSE POWER
#5 TRAIL MATES
#6 DUDE RANCH
#7 HORSE PLAY
#8 HORSE SHOW
#9 HOOF BEAT
#10 RIDING CAMP
#11 HORSE WISE
#12 RODEO RIDER
#13 STARLIGHT CHRISTMAS
#14 SEA HORSE
#15 TEAM PLAY
#16 HORSE GAMES
#17 HORSENAPPED
#18 PACK TRIP
#19 STAR RIDER
#20 SNOW RIDE
#21 RACEHORSE
#22 FOX HUNT
#23 HORSE TROUBLE
#24 GHOST RIDER
#25 SHOW HORSE
#26 BEACH RIDE
#27 BRIDLE PATH
#28 STABLE MANNERS
#29 RANCH HANDS
#30 AUTUMN TRAIL
#31 HAYRIDE
#32 CHOCOLATE HORSE
#33 HIGH HORSE
#34 HAY FEVER
#35 HORSE TALE
#36 RIDING LESSON
#37 STAGE COACH
#38 HORSE TRADE
#39 PUREBRED
#40 GIFT HORSE
#41 STABLE WITCH
#42 SADDLEBAGS
#43 PHOTO FINISH
#44 HORSESHOE
#45 STABLE GROOM
#46 FLYING HORSE
#47 HORSE MAGIC
#48 MYSTERY RIDE
#49 STABLE FAREWELL
#50 YANKEE SWAP
#51 PLEASURE HORSE
#52 RIDING CLASS
#53 HORSE-SITTERS
#54 GOLD MEDAL RIDER
#55 GOLD MEDAL HORSE
#56 CUTTING HORSE
#57 TIGHT REIN
#58 WILD HORSES
#59 PHANTOM HORSE
#60 HOBBYHORSE
#61 BROKEN HORSE
THE SADDLE CLUB SUPER EDITIONS
#1 A SUMMER WITHOUT HORSES
#2 THE SECRET OF THE STALLION
#3 WESTERN STAR
#4 DREAM HORSE
THIS HORSE NEEDS HELP!
When Carole and Stevie reached her side, they saw that Lisa’s face was pale. She didn’t say a word. She simply pointed.
The land sloped away sharply on the far side of the hill. In the valley directly below the girls was a cluster of buildings that made up a small, ramshackle farm. Carole and Stevie hardly noticed the dilapidated farmhouse, barn, and other outbuildings. They immediately focused their attention on the source of Lisa’s horror—a tiny, muddy corral with a horse in it.
Even from a distance it was obvious that there was something very wrong with the horse. It was painfully thin and standing with its head hanging low and one forefoot lifted off the ground. It was difficult to tell what color the horse was because its coat was matted and filthy. The horse clearly needed veterinary help—and fast.
RL 5, 009–012
BROKEN HORSE
A Bantam Skylark Book/December 1996
Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.
“The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books.
“USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of The United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1996 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.
eISBN: 978-0-307-82560-5
Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada.
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Other Books in the Series
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
I would like to express my special thanks
to Catherine Hapka for her help
in the writing of this book.
“I STILL THINK this would be a lot more fun on horseback,” Carole Hanson joked breathlessly. It was a brisk Saturday afternoon in early December, and Carole and her two best friends, Lisa Atwood and Stevie Lake, were hiking in the state park just outside their hometown, Willow Creek, Virginia.
“You think everything would be more fun on horseback,” Lisa joked back. That was true. But it was also true that Lisa and Stevie felt exactly the same way. The three girls loved horses and riding so much that they had formed The Saddle Club. Their club had only two rules: Members had to be horse-crazy, and they had to be willing to help each other out.
“Hold on a second. I’ve got another pebble,” Stevie said. She sat down on a large boulder and removed one of her shoes.
“We told you not to wear sneakers,” Carole said, leaning against a tree trunk to rest. “What happened to the new hiking boots your grandparents gave you for your birthday?”
Stevie shrugged. “They’re in my room somewhere. I think.”
Carole and Lisa laughed. Stevie’s room was famously messy, and it didn’t surprise them that their friend had lost her hiking boots in the clutter.
While she waited for Stevie to extract the pebble from her shoe, Lisa pointed her camera at an interesting-looking tree. She fiddled with the lens, trying to get the top branches in focus. It was a clear, bright winter day, and she had been taking lots of pictures of the scenery.
“Are you getting some good shots for your project?” Carole asked.
“Definitely,” Lisa said. She was doing a school science project on ecosystems, and she wanted to include plenty of photographs along with her written report. That was why she had suggested this hike. “It’s amazing how much life there is out here in the woods even in the wintertime. These pictures will be a great way to show the relationships among all the different plants and animals we’ve seen today. And they’ll make my report a lot more interesting.”
Stevie finished lacing her sneaker and stood up. “Speaking of relationships,” she said, “did I tell you the latest on the couple of the century?”
“I take it you mean Alex and his girlfriend?” Lisa asked as the girls continued along the wooded trail.
“Who else?” Stevie said. A few weeks ago her twin brother, Alex, had started dating a girl from school named Paige Dempsey. Stevie and her older brother, Chad, and younger brother, Michael, had been teasing Alex nonstop ever since.
“All your teasing isn’t starting to come between them, is it?” asked Carole.
“Hardly,” Stevie replied. “They
don’t even notice when I tease them most of the time. That’s what I was going to tell you. I squirted some of Mom’s good perfume onto Alex’s favorite sweater so that Paige would think he’d been hanging out with another woman. But all she did was start batting her eyelashes and telling him how wonderful he smelled.” She made a face. “They’re absolutely sickening. How can they stand themselves?”
Lisa paused to take a picture of a small brown bird hopping busily among the dead leaves at the base of a barelimbed oak tree. “Remember, this is Alex’s first real romance. He’s bound to be a little annoying about it.”
Stevie snorted. “A little annoying? We’ll see if you’re still talking that way after you spend some time with him tonight. If he can tear himself away from the wonderful Paige long enough to come home, that is.” The girls were having a sleepover at Stevie’s house that night.
“Personally, I can’t wait to get a look at the love-struck Alex,” Carole said with a giggle. “I’m having trouble picturing it.”
“Believe me, it sounds a lot more interesting than it actually is,” Stevie said.
Lisa smiled. “Well, I think it’s kind of cute that Alex has a girlfriend. Despite what you may think, Stevie, he’s a nice guy. He deserves a little romance in his life.”
“Gross. I’m just glad I’m not going to the school dance on Friday,” Stevie declared, kicking a large dead branch off the trail so no one would trip on it. “I don’t think my stomach could take it.”
“I’m sure the last thing you’ll be thinking about on Friday is Alex’s love life,” Carole said. Stevie’s parents were taking the three girls into nearby Washington, D.C., to see a performance of the ballet The Nutcracker. That meant Stevie would be missing the annual holiday dance at Fenton Hall, the private school she and her brothers attended. Carole and Lisa went to the public school on the other side of Willow Creek.
“That’s for sure,” Lisa agreed. “I can’t wait. The Nutcracker is my favorite ballet.” Lisa knew a lot about ballet because she had been taking ballet lessons for years.
“It’s the only ballet I’ve ever seen,” Stevie admitted. “But I love it, too. It really puts me in the Christmas spirit.”
“This will be my first time seeing it, but I think I know what you mean,” Carole said. “There are certain things that make it seem like the holidays, aren’t there? Like baking Christmas cookies and decorating the tree.” Stevie and Lisa noticed that Carole’s voice sounded wistful. Mrs. Hanson had died a few years ago. Even though Carole and her father were closer than ever, they both still missed her a lot, and their holidays were always a little bit sad.
Stevie knew one topic that would distract Carole. “I can’t believe you forgot the most Christmassy thing of all,” she said. “The Starlight Ride.”
Pine Hollow, the stable where The Saddle Club rode, had lots of traditions, but the Starlight Ride was one of their favorites. Every Christmas Eve at seven P.M., all the young riders gathered at the stable for a lantern-lit ride through the wooded trails near Pine Hollow. The ride ended in the center of Willow Creek, where the whole town gathered to sing holiday songs and celebrate the season with the Starlight Riders. It was an unforgettable experience that The Saddle Club always looked forward to.
Carole smiled. “I didn’t forget,” she assured her friend. “I was just saving the best for last.”
Stevie noticed that Lisa was taking another picture. “I can’t believe you can even think about schoolwork when we’re talking about the Starlight Ride.”
“I’m listening,” Lisa said. “I can’t wait for Christmas, either. But first I have to finish my report. Can you believe how different the forest is now from the way it is in the summer?”
Stevie looked around and shrugged. “Sure,” she said. “In the summer everything is green. Now everything’s all brown and dead.”
“But not totally,” Lisa said. “It’s amazing how much life there is if you look for it. It’s just moved below the surface, that’s all.” She leaned over to focus on a beetle scurrying across a patch of earth.
Carole was still thinking about the Starlight Ride. “It seems like it’s ages away, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does,” Stevie replied. She didn’t even need to ask what Carole was referring to, because she had just been thinking the same thing.
Lisa looked up from her viewfinder. “Are you still talking about the Starlight Ride? It’s less than three weeks away.”
“I know,” Carole said. “But that sounds like a long time to me.”
“Me too,” Stevie agreed.
“Me three,” Lisa admitted. “But I’m sure it will seem closer when Christmas vacation starts the week after next.” Fenton Hall and the Willow Creek public school system started their winter vacations at the same time.
The girls continued along the winding trail, which was becoming steeper as it climbed a heavily wooded hill. The air was chilly, and a light breeze made it seem even cooler, but the girls had been hiking for more than an hour and were warm with exertion. Lisa had kept them moving at a brisk pace as she hurried from one photo to the next.
Halfway to the top of the hill, Carole stepped off the trail and collapsed onto a smooth rock. “I don’t know about you two, but I need a rest after all that climbing,” she said, puffing.
“Good idea,” Stevie said, sitting down beside her. “I think we’re right at the edge of the park, anyway. We should probably head back soon.”
Lisa was looking ahead at the craggy crest of the hill. “I’d like to take a look from the top there,” she said. “There might be a good view of a valley or something on the other side. I only have a few pictures left on the roll, and most of my shots so far have been close-ups. It would be nice to get a photo of the whole landscape.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Carole asked. “If Stevie’s right, you might be trespassing on private property.” One of the things the owner of Pine Hollow, Max Regnery, had taught all his young riders was respect for others’ land. One of his strictest rules was that no one could ride on private property without permission.
But Lisa didn’t think this qualified. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m sure no one will mind if I just take a few pictures. You guys can wait here if you want. I’ll be right back.”
Carole and Stevie watched as their friend began scrambling up the last few dozen yards of steep trail.
“Can you believe how responsible she is?” Stevie commented. “All I can think about is that vacation can’t come fast enough, and all she can think about is her school project.”
Carole laughed. “That’s just one of the things that makes Lisa Lisa.”
“True,” Stevie said, glancing again at Lisa, who had just reached her destination. “I guess—”
Carole never found out what Stevie was about to say, because her words were interrupted by Lisa’s loud, horrified voice calling out their names.
WHEN CAROLE AND Stevie reached her side seconds later, they saw that Lisa’s face was pale and her expression shocked. She didn’t say a word. She simply pointed.
The land sloped away sharply on the far side of the hill. In the valley directly below the girls was a cluster of buildings that made up a small, ramshackle farm. Carole and Stevie hardly noticed the dilapidated farmhouse, barn, and other outbuildings. They immediately focused their attention on the source of Lisa’s horror—a tiny, muddy corral with a horse in it.
Even from a distance it was obvious that there was something very wrong with the horse. It was painfully thin and standing with its head hanging low and one forefoot lifted off the ground. It was difficult to tell what color the horse was because its coat was matted and filthy. The horse clearly needed veterinary help—and fast.
“What should we do?” asked Stevie.
“I don’t know,” Carole said slowly. “We can’t just leave the poor thing here.”
“How bad off do you think it is?” Stevie asked.
“It’s hard to tell from here,” C
arole said uncertainly.
“Maybe we should go down and take a quick look,” Stevie suggested. “If the horse looks as bad from there as it looks from here, we can go get help.”
Carole bit her lip. There was nothing she hated more than seeing an animal that was obviously in pain. But this horse was on private property and she wasn’t sure what they should do. “If the owner of the farm is home, I’m not sure I want to meet him.”
“That’s a good point,” Stevie said. “Lisa, what do you …” Her voice trailed off as she turned and saw that Lisa was already climbing down the steep slope, picking her way carefully among the slippery rocks and thornbushes. Carole and Stevie exchanged glances, then followed. Lisa was the most sensible member of The Saddle Club. If she thought they should go down to the horse, down they would go.
The Saddle Club approached the corral slowly, casting nervous glances at the nearby house. They could hear a dog barking inside. But there was no other sign of life or movement, and when they got a little closer, Carole noticed that there were several newspapers piled on the porch, still wrapped in the plastic bags in which they were delivered.
“It looks like whoever owns that poor horse hasn’t been home for a few days at least,” Carole said, pointing at the papers. She felt relieved and angry at the same time. She was relieved that the girls weren’t likely to meet the owner of the farm, and she was angry that someone would leave a horse and a dog alone for several days.
By this time the girls were close enough to get a good look at the horse in the corral. It was a gray mare, though the sores and filth that covered her thin body made it difficult to tell what she might once have looked like. Her sides were crisscrossed with red welts and scratches, and the forefoot she was holding off the ground was badly swollen. It was obvious that her coat hadn’t been clipped or brushed in a very long time, and her mane and tail were knotty and matted with debris. She had long, slender legs and a well shaped head, but at the moment both were covered with cuts and sores. Her sides were bony from malnutrition, and her breathing was labored and a little too fast. Every few seconds a visible shudder would pass over her whole body.
Broken Horse Page 1
