Changing Leads
Pine Hollow, Book Four
Bonnie Bryant
My special thanks to Catherine Hapka for her help in the writing of this book.
ONE
“Callie! Yo, Callie!” Stevie Lake called over the shouts and laughter echoing off the walls of the crowded school hallway. Callie Forester was a few yards ahead of her, leaning over the water fountain near the north stairwell. “Callie!”
Callie turned and waited for Stevie to dodge through the throng of other students. “No problem there,” she joked wryly. “I think a turtle could catch up to me these days if it really tried.”
Stevie winced as she glanced at Callie’s ugly metal crutches. Callie was leaning on them heavily, taking the weight off her right leg. “Sorry about that,” Stevie muttered. “I didn’t mean to say anything to—”
Callie waved away the apology. “Stop it,” she ordered. “It was a joke. You know—ha ha, funny?”
Stevie grinned weakly. “Ha ha,” she said. “Funny.”
Stevie was famous for her quick sense of humor, but she couldn’t find much to laugh about when it came to Callie’s condition. The girl had residual brain damage that had forced her to learn how to use the right side of her body all over again. Stevie had been driving on that stormy afternoon a little more than two months before, so it was only natural that she would retain some guilt about what had happened, no matter how many times other people—including Callie—reminded her that the accident hadn’t been her fault. Stevie knew by now that she couldn’t have prevented her car from flipping over on the rain-slick road in front of Pine Hollow Stables any more than she could have prevented the sun from rising that morning. But knowing it in her head wasn’t the same as believing it deep in her heart.
So while Callie had spent a lot of time and energy in the months since the accident working to overcome her physical problems, Stevie had struggled just as hard to come to terms with her mental and emotional ones, and things were a lot better now for both of them. Still, Callie was starting the new year at a new school with crutches and a pronounced limp and Stevie sometimes had trouble watching her new friend trying to walk or stand up or mount a horse or do any of the other simple little things that most people took for granted.
Stevie willed herself to focus on Callie’s face rather than her weakened right leg. “Anyway, how are you surviving your first day at dear old Fenton Hall?” She waved a hand to indicate the chaos of bustling, shouting, laughing students that buzzed around them. “I’ve barely seen you all day.”
“I know.” Callie’s dark blue eyes wandered from Stevie’s face to take in the noisy scene. “I was hoping I’d have some classes with you. It would make it a lot easier if I had a friend to sit with on the first day instead of just sort of hovering awkwardly until everyone else is sitting down.”
Stevie nodded sympathetically. She knew that Callie could seem a bit arrogant and intimidating at first meeting—to some people at least. The fact that she was a congressman’s daughter probably had something to do with putting people off, although Stevie was sure that Callie’s natural reserve and steely, sometimes overserious determination had even more to do with it. Stevie herself had warmed up to Callie right away; but then again, Stevie wasn’t always sensitive to such subtleties. She tended to like everyone she met until someone gave her a reason not to, and so far Callie hadn’t given her any such reason. Over the past couple of months, Stevie had come to think of Callie as a close friend, and she had soon recognized that the new girl’s cool exterior hid a person who was actually quite shy and uncertain in a lot of ways—the kind of person who would hesitate to sit down in a classroom full of strangers until the last possible moment. “At least you know a few other people,” Stevie said encouragingly. “You know, like some of the other riders from Pine Hollow. Right?”
“True,” Callie agreed. “Lorraine Olsen is in my history class, and that cute little guy with the dimples—George, is it?—is in my chemistry class.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a good thing, too. I’m going to need a study buddy in that one. It’s only the first day, and I’m already confused.”
“Uh-oh,” Stevie joked. “If you’re confused, I’m sure to be totally lost. I have chem next period. Maybe I’ll come down with a sudden stomachache in the next”—she glanced at her watch—“four and a half minutes.”
Callie raised one eyebrow, looking bemused. “That might work for today,” she said. “But what about the rest of the year?”
Stevie shrugged. “Hey, what can I say? I think it’s a new virus. It recurs every day right around sixth period.”
Callie laughed, and Stevie chuckled along. It was nice to have a new friend to chat with in the halls, even if they didn’t have many classes together. Unlike Callie, Stevie wasn’t the least bit shy, and she never let anything stop her from getting to know people. She had dozens of casual friends and hundreds of acquaintances at school, from her fellow members of the Fenton Hall student council to the ever-shifting group of people who sat at her favorite lunch table at the far end of the cafeteria. But her closest friends had always been at Pine Hollow Stables. She had met Carole Hanson and Lisa Atwood there when they were all in junior high school, and the three girls had been inseparable ever since. Carole and Lisa both attended Willow Creek High School on the other side of town, which meant that Stevie didn’t get to spend nearly as much time with them as she would have liked, especially with family, homework, boyfriends, jobs, and other activities taking up so much of all their free time.
Callie shifted her weight slightly, resting an elbow against the water fountain behind her. “I guess I should look on the bright side,” she said. “At least I’m the right age to be taking chemistry. Back home it was a senior class, so Scott hasn’t taken it yet.” Her eyes twinkled. “Believe me, he’s not thrilled about getting stuck in a class full of us lowly juniors.”
This time Stevie’s laugh came a little less easily as she thought about Callie’s brother. Scott Forester was a friendly, outgoing, eminently likable guy, a star of his hometown debate team and a surefire candidate to follow in his father’s political footsteps. Unlike the more withdrawn Callie, he seemed able to get along effortlessly with almost everyone he met—but not with Stevie. Not anymore. Scott still blamed Stevie for the accident and his sister’s condition, even though Callie and her parents had long since forgiven her and the police had cleared her of any blame. Scott couldn’t quite seem to forgive and forget; he didn’t talk to Stevie in the easy way he once had. He couldn’t even meet her eye when they passed in the aisle at the stables.
Stevie tore her thoughts away from Callie’s brother and turned them back to Callie. “What class do you have now?”
Callie pulled her schedule out of her pocket and squinted at it. “Latin,” she reported. “Ugh. That was my worst class back home. I didn’t want to take it this year, but my dad insisted.” She grimaced. “He said it was because ‘Foresters aren’t quitters,’ but I think he’s really just trying to torture me—and keep me out of trouble and the media spotlight.”
Stevie grinned. Congressman Forester was sensitive about publicity issues, but Stevie could tell Callie was just kidding around. “Oh, well,” she said. “I’ve been taking Latin for two years and all I remember is that equus means ‘horse.’ Still, who said school was supposed to be fun? At least we have our picnic to look forward to this weekend.”
She sighed with anticipation as she thought about that, wishing it were Saturday already. Stevie, Carole, and Lisa had come up with the idea for the picnic the afternoon before as they were cleaning tack after their traditional last-day-of-summer-before-school-opens trail ride. Stevie had been bemoaning the start of yet another school year, claiming that she wasn’t sure s
he would be able to survive all those hours of dull lectures and duller homework. Carole had been quick to agree, obviously thinking that every minute spent at school was a minute spent away from the stable. Even Lisa, who was an excellent student and actually liked school most of the time, had admitted that she wasn’t quite prepared for the summer to end, especially since she had just returned to Willow Creek from a two-month stay with her father in California.
“It’s always kind of sad when summer ends,” Carole had said, sounding wistful as she scrubbed slowly at her horse’s bridle. “Things always get so busy at the beginning of the school year, don’t they? There never seems to be enough time for the important stuff.”
Stevie had opened her mouth to argue. They had all stayed plenty busy that summer, school or no school. Carole had spent practically every waking hour at Pine Hollow, working hard at her job as morning stable manager, while Stevie had spent far too many hours counting change and handing out detergent at her summer job at a local laundry. But Stevie shrugged and admitted, “I know what you mean. Time seems different in the summer. The days are longer, there’s more time for hanging out—”
“Going on trail rides,” Lisa put in.
Carole sighed. “Swimming and talking and spending time with friends.”
The idea for the picnic had seemed to come to all of them at once, like many of their best ideas. After that, all that was left was to plan it—and decide what to call it. Stevie was torn between calling it a last blast of summer or an I-survived-my-first-week-of-school party. Either way, the girls had quickly decided to make a real celebration of it by inviting a few close friends: Phil Marsten, Stevie’s longtime boyfriend, who lived in the next county; Phil’s best friend, A. J. McDonnell; A.J.’s girlfriend, Julianna; Stevie’s twin brother, Alex, who also happened to be Lisa’s boyfriend; and Callie, of course.
“You’re still coming, aren’t you?” Stevie asked Callie now. “Latin homework or no Latin homework?”
Callie’s expression brightened. “Definitely,” she said. “I wouldn’t miss it.” She shot Stevie an unreadable glance. “Scott still says he can’t make it. But I’ll see what I can do to change his mind.”
Stevie nodded, keeping her expression as neutral as she could. When Stevie had called the night before to invite Callie, she had also made a point of inviting Callie’s brother. But Scott had immediately declined, and Stevie was sure it was because of her.
“Anyway,” Callie went on, seeming to sense Stevie’s discomfort, “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of fun without him. Now that my leg is getting strong enough, I’m looking forward to testing it on a nice long trail ride.”
“Good.” Stevie glanced at her watch again. “Oops. I’d better run. My chem class is upstairs, and I’d hate to be late on my first day.”
“See you.” Callie smiled, then straightened her crutches and started down the hallway with her awkward, uneven stride.
Stevie watched her for a moment, then turned away, fighting back twinges of guilt. It’s amazing she’s made this much progress this fast, she reminded herself, trying to look on the bright side. Her doctors keep saying they’ve never seen anything quite like it. She smiled. Then again, they probably never met anyone quite like Callie before.
As she hurried toward the broad marble staircase at the center of the hall, her thoughts returned to Scott. Part of her was relieved that he wouldn’t be coming along on Saturday. It would make things a lot more comfortable, meaning that she would be free to enjoy her friends’ company without worrying about what Scott was thinking. But another part of her was disappointed. As long as Scott continued to hate her, Stevie wasn’t sure she would ever be able to return to her old, happy-go-lucky, preaccident self. And the longer he ignored her, the less likely it seemed that things could ever go back to normal between them. Stevie was smart and experienced enough to know that sometimes things really didn’t work out for the best, that some people just couldn’t get along no matter how hard they tried. But that wouldn’t be true of her and Scott, could it? It didn’t seem possible. They were both friendly, intelligent, rational people—in most ways, anyway. If he would just give her a chance, spend some time with her, try to get over his anger instead of ignoring her …
Still, if he doesn’t want to come on Saturday, he doesn’t have to, Stevie told herself as she walked into her chemistry classroom. And just because he actually nodded to me when I saw him at Pine Hollow yesterday doesn’t mean he’s suddenly ready to be my best friend. What is it that Mom always tells me? Two steps forward, one step back.
She did her best to push those thoughts out of her mind. She was going to need to focus her attention on this class if she had any hope of doing well. As she headed for an empty desk near the door, she glanced over the students already seated—and spotted a very familiar face in the front row. It was Scott.
Stevie gulped, suddenly remembering what Callie had said about her brother’s taking chemistry this year. As she stared, Scott looked up and saw her. His eyes met hers for the briefest of moments, registering surprise. Then his expression went blank, and he coolly turned away.
Stevie rolled her eyes and dropped her books on the scarred wooden desk with a thump. Great, she thought. This is just what I need.
At that very moment Carole Hanson was pinching herself on the arm, trying desperately to stay awake. She was sitting in the last row of her algebra class, bored out of her mind.
When am I ever going to need to know even the slightest little thing about this stuff, anyway? she thought, feeling disgruntled. I didn’t even want to take Algebra I freshman year. Now here I am, stuck learning even more boring useless, totally incomprehensible garbage in Algebra II.
She glanced at the portly, balding man standing at the front of the room. Mr. Whiteside seemed to be taking whatever it was he was currently babbling about—integers or something—really seriously. For that matter, so did the other students. Most of them were scribbling notes as if their lives depended on it. But Carole couldn’t quite manage to share their feeling of urgency.
Why do all my teachers feel the need to plunge right into the thick of things? Carole wondered idly. Why can’t they just give us a few days—or weeks—to recover from summer vacation and get used to being trapped here again?
But Carole knew that even if the teachers gave her six months, she would still have trouble adjusting to being stuck in class. For most of her life she had been a dutiful student. She had done her homework, kept up with her assignments, and not thought much about school one way or the other. But last year that had started to change. She had begun to wonder exactly why she had to spend all these hours studying subjects she didn’t care about and would never need to know. She had known for most of her life that she would work with horses someday. Now “someday” was getting close enough to taste, and she was starting to resent anything—math class, history class, English class—that stood in the way of learning everything she could about horses. Over the summer it had been easy enough to ignore such thoughts, since her job at Pine Hollow had kept her busy and happy. But now … It was only the first day of school, and Carole was already as restless as a horse that had been cooped up in a straight stall too long.
The only thing that kept her from complete despair was the thought that high school was the last step to college and a major in equine studies. The year before, thinking about all the useful things she would learn after high school had made it possible for her to sit through her classes day after day, listening to teachers spout off about all kinds of useless stuff. She just hoped those thoughts would be enough to carry her through this year … and next …
Carole felt her head falling forward heavily, and she quickly blinked and sat upright. She reminded herself that there was another reason she couldn’t afford to ignore her teachers. Max Regnery, the owner of Pine Hollow, had a strict rule about grades. Any student who rode at his stable had to keep a C average or higher in all classes or he cut off the student’s riding privileges.
He was as serious about that particular rule now that Carole was a high-school junior as he had been back when she was in junior high.
Thinking of Max’s rule made Carole think of Max himself. The day before, as she was cooling down Starlight after the end-of-summer trail ride with her friends, Max had called her aside, saying he wanted to talk to her. Carole had assumed that he merely wanted to discuss the changes in her duties around Pine Hollow now that school was starting. He had wanted to talk about that, but first he’d had some other news to share with her. Some surprising, thrilling, worrisome, exciting, terrifying, and complicated news.
I still can’t believe it, she thought, automatically crossing her second and third fingers for luck as she had done since she was a little girl riding toward a tough fence. She had crossed them that way so as not to jeopardize her grip on the reins, and it had become a habit. I can’t believe I didn’t have a clue about this before. And I can’t believe he actually expects me to keep it a secret. How can I not tell my best friends something so wonderful?
Still, she knew there were at least a couple of reasons why Max didn’t want anyone else to know about this yet. Good, practical reasons. Besides, he was her boss, and he had given her a direct order. Carole had spent long enough as the daughter of a Marine colonel to know what that meant. She had to keep her mouth shut, like it or not. Even if it did make her feel as if she was being a disloyal friend. Even if it had been next to impossible to hide her thoughts from Lisa and Stevie as they all chatted in the tack room a few minutes later. Even if every fiber in her being had wanted to break down and shout with excitement and then spill the beans …
She shook her head again briskly, as if by doing so she could shake those thoughts from her mind. Max didn’t want her to tell anyone yet. That was all there was to it. Daydreaming about how her friends would react to the news—which they would hear soon enough anyhow if all went well—was almost as much of a waste of time as learning algebra.
Changing Leads Page 1
