Changing Leads

by Bonnie Bryant

  Lisa leaned over to pluck a stack of paper plates out of the grocery bag near the grill. “I guess it must be sort of like living in a fishbowl,” she said. “Everybody watching your every move just because of your dad’s job.”

  “Exactly.” Callie smiled tentatively at the other girl. “Sometimes I wish he did something normal, like being a dentist or a computer programmer or a teacher or something. Then I wouldn’t have had to leave my friends behind and move all the way across the country.” Suddenly realizing that Lisa might think she was whining, she quickly added, “Not that it’s been so terrible moving here.”

  “I understand.” Lisa was carefully stacking the paper plates on a plaid picnic blanket someone had spread nearby. “You can’t choose your family. Or control what they do.”

  At that, Callie remembered hearing that Lisa’s parents had divorced a few years before. Fearing that she had unwittingly reminded Lisa of her own painful family problems, she did her best to shift the topic. “Anyway, Dad promised we could go back to Valley Vista for the holidays,” she said. “I can’t wait to hang out with the old gang.” She shrugged. “Although actually, my friend Sheila e-mailed me a couple of days ago to say she might be coming to visit soon.”

  “Really?” Lisa asked. “That’s a long way to go. You must be good friends.”

  “We’ve known each other for ages,” Callie said, already wondering exactly why she had decided to bring up this particular topic. “Our mothers are best friends. But actually, the reason Sheila might be coming out here is that she’s graduating this year from high school and is thinking about college.”

  “So, she’s looking at schools here?” Lisa asked.

  “Bingo.” Callie flipped a burger that was starting to sizzle. “She’s trying to talk her parents into making it a big trip. And if I know Sheila, she’ll get her way. She’s going to try to arrange it so that she can spend a few days with my family.”

  “That sounds nice,” Lisa said, not quite certain how to respond. Judging by Callie’s expression, she didn’t seem exactly thrilled to be having this conversation with Lisa. Or was Lisa imagining that? Projecting her own discomfort onto the other girl? She did her best to smile normally as she continued. “I know it was really great when Carole and Stevie came to visit me in California. Not that it’s the same kind of thing,” she added quickly. “I mean, I was only out there for the summer. Not permanently.”

  “I know what you mean, though,” Callie assured her. “You must have missed them a lot, even if you knew it wasn’t permanent. Carole and Stevie are pretty special.”

  You don’t have to tell me that Carole and Stevie are special, Lisa thought. I know them a whole lot better than you do. I’ve always known they’re special. She busied herself with digging another package of hamburger buns out of the bag, not wanting Callie to get a look at her face and suspect what she was thinking.

  She felt guilty about her thoughts, knowing that Callie must be trying her best to make this awkward situation a little more comfortable. She wanted the same thing Lisa did—to ease this weird transition period so that they could all be friends.

  Still, even though she knew it was stupid and petty, Lisa couldn’t help resenting Callie’s efforts. Suddenly feeling too confused by these swirling thoughts to try to carry on the conversation, Lisa dropped the bag of hamburger buns on the blanket and stood up.

  “It looks like it’s almost time to eat,” she said as brightly as she could. “I’d better start rounding up the others.”

  Without waiting for Callie to reply, she turned and fled back to the safety of the water, leaving Callie alone at the grill.

  SIX

  “How’s that, boy?” Carole murmured, rubbing a body brush firmly over Starlight’s left shoulder blade. “Feels good to get that dust and sweat out of there, doesn’t it?”

  The horse couldn’t answer, of course, at least not with words. But Carole understood the language of his grunts and sighs of pleasure and his half-closed eyes as easily as she would have understood it if he had said, “Wonderful, thank you.”

  She smiled and switched the brush to her other hand, moving slowly down his shoulder with short, firm strokes, working carefully, wanting to make his bay coat shine.

  As much as Carole loved riding Starlight, she sometimes thought that these slow, leisurely groomings might be her very favorite part of owning a horse. Just the two of them, alone in a stall, oblivious to the rest of the world, resting their muscles after a day on the trail.

  “Today was fun, wasn’t it, boy?” Carole murmured, thinking back to their picnic. After gorging themselves on Callie’s perfectly cooked burgers under the blazing midday sun, the friends had seriously considered breaking the rule they’d all had drilled into them since childhood by going right back into the water. Then Stevie had suggested an alternative: mounted games. They had all raced to get their horses ready, then spent the next hour playing shadow tag, running relay races, and generally goofing off like a bunch of D-level Pony Clubbers. By the time Carole decided it was time to stop and give the horses a rest, everyone was more than ready to jump back into the swimming hole and cool off. Even Callie had rolled up her jeans and waded—crutches and all—into the shallow area where the swimming hole joined the creek. After another hour or so of that, it was time to pack up the picnic supplies for the hour-long ride back home. Altogether, it had been the most fun and relaxing day Carole remembered having in ages.

  But now that she was back in the stable, her thoughts were returning to business. She was getting more and more curious about exactly what Max had planned for her in the coming months.

  She moved around to Starlight’s right side and began working it over with the body brush. “Who do you think I’ll get to train, huh, boy?” she whispered to the horse. “Firefly, of course. Ben and I are making pretty good progress with her, if I do say so myself. And then there’s you. I never get tired of training you.” She paused and ran over her mental list of Pine Hollow’s equine residents, wondering which of the younger horses Max had in mind for further training. “Maybe that new pony he bought last spring,” she murmured into Starlight’s ear. The gelding’s head was drooping contentedly as Carole ran her brush down his neck, and his eyes were still half closed. “Or maybe he wants me to help that new blond girl with that feisty little quarter horse of hers.”

  Starlight seemed to have no opinion on the matter. His head drooped even lower, and Carole suspected that he was all but asleep. She smiled and continued her grooming.

  She was pleased with the way Starlight had performed that day in the mounted games. He had responded even better than usual to all her commands, making her realize just how far the two of them had really come in their training together over the years.

  Maybe I was a little too hasty the other day, thinking that Starlight and I could never compete in a show like Colesford, Carole thought as her hands continued their task automatically. Maybe we are good enough to compete with those high-class horses.

  Then she shook her head. They weren’t quite good enough. Not yet. But maybe someday …

  She wondered if Max had given any thought to entering one of his horses in the prestigious show. After all, it promised to be an important local event, and it would be good for business if a Pine Hollow horse competed and did well. Carole decided to mention it to him and offer to help if she could.

  Feeling excited about the possibility of being involved in the Colesford show, no matter how marginally, Carole once again pulled up her mental list of Pine Hollow horses and riders. Let’s see, she thought. Who could handle that level of competition?

  A few names came to mind. Andrea Barry and her elegant hunter, Country Doctor. George Wheeler and his talented gray Trakehner mare, Joyride. Even Stevie and Belle might be able to hold their own in dressage if they worked extra hard between now and then, though they would be a long shot to win a ribbon.

  She was pretty sure that she herself was good enough to ride in the show and not emb
arrass herself or Max, but she also knew that it would be difficult to work up a partnership with any horse other than Starlight in time, even if she wanted to.

  Still, if Max wanted me to give it a try on Talisman, or maybe Topside, I probably wouldn’t turn him down, she added to herself.

  She gave Starlight a quick pat, startling him out of his doze long enough for him to open his eye and give her a slightly dirty look. “Sorry, boy,” she said. “I’m just daydreaming. I would never want to work that hard with any horse but you. Besides, if Max asks anyone to ride for him, it’ll probably be Denise. She’s definitely ready for a top show like that. And she gets along great with Talisman. They’d make a fantastic team for the show.”

  Starlight’s eye drifted shut again and he shifted his weight, letting out a contented snort. Carole fell back into her daydreams, this time picturing Denise McCaskill, Pine Hollow’s stable manager and an accomplished rider, competing aboard one of Max’s most talented show horses, the spunky and experienced chestnut gelding, Talisman.

  They’ll be perfect, she told herself happily. They’ll do Pine Hollow proud. And then maybe next year—she gave Starlight another pat—next year it’ll be our turn.

  She returned her attention to her horse’s grooming, carefully finishing his coat with the body brush and then stooping to retrieve a softer brush from her grooming bucket for his face.

  A few minutes later, she was carefully sponging Starlight’s eyes when she heard footsteps approaching in the aisle outside. Stepping back and stretching to work a kink out of her back, she glanced at the stall door, wondering who was out there. She’d thought her friends had all left the stable already, but maybe one of them was still around and was coming to say good-bye. Or maybe it was Ben. Carole hadn’t seen him since their return, but she supposed he was lurking somewhere.

  But when the footsteps stopped outside Starlight’s stall and a head poked over, Carole saw that it was Max.

  “There you are,” he said.

  Carole tossed the sponge she’d been using back into the grooming kit, picked up the bucket, and ducked under Starlight’s lead line. As she approached the door, she saw that Max’s face looked uncharacteristically thoughtful and somber.

  “What’s up?” Carole asked.

  Max didn’t answer for a moment. His blue eyes focused on Starlight, running up and down his body. “He looks good,” he said finally. “You take good care of that horse, Carole. He’s come a long way these past few years.”

  “Thanks.” Carole was starting to feel puzzled and a little suspicious. Max looked so serious. But suddenly she didn’t think it had anything to do with Prancer. Max would have spit that out right away. Did I do something wrong? she wondered. Is he here to chew me out? Or is something else going on? Her grip tightened nervously on the plastic handle of the grooming bucket as she tried to figure out what horrible mistake she might have made without realizing it.

  Finally Max turned to meet her eye. “I have some news,” he said. “Samson is coming home. Back to Pine Hollow.”

  Carole’s breath caught in her throat. Her whole body suddenly seemed to go numb. The grooming bucket slipped out of her hand and crashed to the floor, spilling its contents over the stall’s deep straw bedding.

  SEVEN

  “Samson?” Stevie repeated, pressing the phone’s earpiece closer, wondering if she had misheard what Carole had just said. “Did you say Samson? The Samson?”

  “That’s right,” Carole confirmed, sounding a little breathless. “He’s finally coming home, where he belongs.”

  “But Max sold him to that trainer in the next county for his son to ride,” Lisa protested. “That was almost three years ago, wasn’t it?”

  “That’s right.” Stevie nodded, though she knew her friends couldn’t see her. Carole had called her a few minutes before and asked her to dial Lisa on the Lakes’ three-way calling feature so that she could give them some important news. As soon as they were all on the line, she had announced that Max was bringing a horse named Samson to Pine Hollow. All three girls knew Samson very well. They had known both his parents and had assisted in his birth. But Samson had left Pine Hollow years earlier, and Stevie had thought of the coal black horse only occasionally since then. “I thought those two were destined to win every show-jumping ribbon in the universe or something,” Stevie added, remembering that the horseman who had bought the young gelding had been thrilled with Samson’s extraordinary jumping ability. Apparently the man’s son, an accomplished rider in his early twenties who had dreams of someday making the Olympic equestrian team, had been searching far and wide for the perfect mount. Samson had been the answer to his prayers, and Max had sold the spirited gelding for a tidy profit.

  Carole didn’t give any indication of having heard Stevie’s comment—or Lisa’s, for that matter. She sighed on the other end of the line. “It’s going to be so great,” she said dreamily. “Samson back at Pine Hollow. Maybe Max will let me give him Delilah’s old stall. Wouldn’t that be perfect?”

  Stevie held back her own sigh, twisting the phone cord around one finger. She was feeling a little impatient with Carole, but she was trying to hide it, since she knew her friend had always had a soft spot for this particular horse. Samson looked a lot like his sire, a fiery stallion named Cobalt that had died tragically after a riding accident. Carole had loved Cobalt more than any other horse before him, and she had taken his death hard. For a while, her grief had even made her consider giving up riding. Now that she thought about it, Stevie recalled that Carole had moped around for weeks after Max sold Samson, even though she had already owned Starlight for some time by that point. But eventually she had recovered from Samson’s departure, too.

  “This is like a dream come true,” Carole went on, her words coming so fast that they tumbled over one another and Stevie could hardly understand her. “I couldn’t believe it when Max told me. I thought I was hearing him wrong. But it’s true. Samson. At Pine Hollow. Just like in the old days.”

  Stevie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t really in the mood for this kind of good old-fashioned horse gossip, even with her best friends. She was feeling too distracted by other things—primarily Phil’s new friendliness with Scott Forester. Upon their return to the stable that afternoon, the picnickers had found Scott waiting to give Callie a ride home. He had been as jovial as ever with the others, including Phil. But for Stevie he had only his usual cool stare and terse nod, even after she made a point of greeting him politely.

  For the first couple of months after the accident, Stevie had assumed that she deserved every bit of disapprobation he sent her way. She had felt so guilty and so responsible for what had happened that she had accepted his behavior as understandable, even appropriate.

  But lately, with help from her family and friends, including Callie, she had mostly moved past those feelings. She had finally started to believe that the accident had been exactly that—an accident.

  That was why Stevie had vowed to change her attitude toward Scott, hoping it would help close the gap filled with bad feelings between them. But she had been doing her best, smiling and greeting Scott every time she saw him in the halls at school or the aisles of Pine Hollow, and Scott still was making no move toward reconciliation. That was starting to annoy Stevie—a lot.

  What’s Scott’s problem, anyway? she thought, hardly hearing Carole’s breathless reminiscences about Samson’s first horse show a few years earlier, before Max had sold him. I mean, Callie is getting better faster than anyone could have expected. She’s riding again, and I’m sure she’ll be back in training before we know it. She’s already looking toward the future. Why can’t her brother do the same thing and just get over it already?

  She tuned back in on the phone conversation, realizing that Lisa was speaking, sounding worried. “… and I thought that guy’s son was serious about Samson.”

  “What?” Carole finally seemed to remember that she wasn’t just talking to herself. “Oh, yeah. They won a whole
bunch of prizes already, even though Samson’s pretty young. Remember? Max has all the clippings in his scrapbook in the office.”

  Stevie drummed her fingers on the bedspread, once again wishing Carole would just get on with it. “We know,” she said with as much patience as she could muster. “We’ve all seen that stuff. That’s exactly the point. If they were such a winning team, why’s Samson coming back now?”

  “Oh, I forgot I hadn’t mentioned it,” Carole said rather dismissively. “There was an accident.”

  Stevie’s memory jolted. Unbidden, the image of Cobalt’s long-ago accident ran through her mind, as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. They had all been in a jumping lesson, working on a cross-country course. Stevie had just jumped a fence on Comanche when she heard shouts and then hoof-beats behind her, coming much too fast. She had ridden Comanche off the course and wheeled him around just in time to see a classmate named Veronica diAngelo barreling down the hill on Cobalt, heading for the same fence Stevie had just cleared. The big Thoroughbred stallion’s nostrils had flared, his long, slender legs pounding the earth at a full gallop as he followed his rider’s deadly instructions.

  Stevie had wanted to shout out for Veronica to stop, to slow down. At that speed there was no way Cobalt could jump the high fence and land safely on the steep slope beyond. But it was already too late. Cobalt didn’t slow down one bit. Stevie had held her breath and hoped with all her might that it would turn out all right. For a moment she’d thought she might get her wish. Cobalt had taken off, soaring over the fence as easily as most horses would have cleared an obstacle half its size.