High Stakes
Pine Hollow, Book Thirteen
Bonnie Bryant
My special thanks to Catherine Hapka
for her help in the writing of this book.
ONE
“Do you think Mom and Dad would kill me if I came home with another dog?” Stevie Lake asked, stopping in front of a roomy cage where a medium-sized black-and-white dog was leaping against the wire door, panting and whining eagerly at her.
“Yes,” Lisa Atwood replied with a smile. “I think they probably would.”
Stevie sighed. “Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed, putting her palm against the wire so the excited dog could sniff at it. “I can already hear them: ‘Sure, Stevie, the dog can stay. He can have your room.’ Then I’d be here at CARL myself, hoping some nice family would come and take me home. And somehow, I don’t think most people would consider a sixteen-year-old girl the perfect family pet. Not even a totally wonderful and talented one like me.”
Lisa grinned, her grayish blue eyes twinkling. “Come on. I smell paint up ahead. Let’s go find Carole.”
“Okay.” With one last glance at the friendly dog, Stevie followed her friend down the wide hallway. On either side of her were more cages, almost all of them occupied. Dogs of every shape and size pressed themselves eagerly against the wire or barked as the girls walked by.
“Wow,” Lisa commented, raising her voice to make herself heard over the racket. Pushing back her straight blond hair, she covered her ears with her hands. “And I thought my old dog, Dolly, could be noisy sometimes!”
Stevie didn’t answer. In fact, she’d barely heard her friend’s comment. She was staring at a dog that had just come in from the outdoor run that adjoined its pen. “Check it out!” she exclaimed sorrowfully, hurrying forward for a better look. “This one looks just like Bear!” She could hardly believe how much the strange dog resembled her family’s golden retriever, despite the fact that this dog’s silky coat was badly in need of a brushing. However, when she took a step forward, pressing her hand to the wire as she’d done with the black-and-white dog, Stevie saw that there was another difference as well. Instead of racing forward to get acquainted like the other dog had, or ambling slowly over for a lazy sniff, as Bear would have done, this dog hung back warily. Its fringed tail wagged hesitantly a couple of times, then it backed away and ducked through the door to the outside run again.
Lisa was watching. “Sad,” she said quietly. “Looks like it wants to make friends, but it’s too scared to try.”
“Hey! There you are,” a familiar voice said from the end of the hall. “I was wondering why the dogs were barking all of a sudden.”
Glancing up, Stevie saw Carole Hanson smiling at them, a paintbrush in her hand and a smudge of pale yellow paint just above one dark brown eye. Dressed in baggy overalls and a red turtleneck, her springy black curls pulled back into a loose braid at the nape of her neck, she looked downright adorable. Stevie didn’t say so, though—Carole could be shy about taking compliments, especially ones regarding her appearance. “Hey, we told you we’d stop by and help out,” Stevie commented instead. “So here we are, ready and willing.”
“Come on back.” Carole gestured to the room behind her. “Most of the group’s outside raking the paddock, but a few of us are getting started on the playroom.”
“The playroom?” Stevie wrinkled her brow. She’d been to the County Animal Rescue League—a local shelter commonly known as CARL—several times before, but not recently. “What’s that? Don’t tell me they keep stray kids here, too. I thought I was kidding about that.” She shot Lisa a wry smile.
Carole laughed. “Nope. But listening to all the stories people have about this place, it sounds like they’ve had just about every other kind of critter at one time or another. Even horses.”
“I know,” Lisa said, biting her lip. “There was a horse here the first time we ever came. Remember?”
Stevie nodded. She had never actually seen the horse Lisa was talking about, but she still remembered how upset her friend had been when the poor, abused animal had died despite the best efforts of the volunteer vets at CARL. We were all upset, Stevie thought, glancing from one of her best friends to the other. But what else would you expect from the three horse-crazy girls we were then? She smiled slightly. Not that we’re really that different today, when you get right down to it. It was their common love of horses and riding that had brought the three of them together in the first place back in junior high. Now that they were in high school—Stevie and Carole were juniors; Lisa was a senior—they were as close as ever. Maybe they didn’t spend quite as much time hanging out at Pine Hollow Stables as they once had, but horses were still a very important part of their lives.
That was especially true of Carole. Of the three of them, she had always been the most serious about horses and riding. Up until recently, Carole had still spent every moment she could at the stable. She’d even taken a part-time job as stable hand. But all that had changed when Carole, who was normally one of the most honest and straightforward people Stevie knew, had cheated on a test at school. That had been enough to get her grounded for more than a month—no phone calls, no TV, and most important of all, no riding. Stevie had been as surprised as everyone else when Carole’s father, Colonel Hanson, had partially lifted that ban because Carole had scored very well on the PSATs. Now she was allowed to ride a few times per week, but the rest of the punishment still stood.
“So this is the playroom, huh?” Stevie said as Carole led the way into a small square room just beyond the dog area. Stevie glanced around curiously. Two men in their late twenties were in the doorway on the opposite side, carefully marking off the door frame with masking tape. “You still haven’t told us what it’s for.”
“Duh,” Lisa commented, gesturing to a couple of wire exercise pens that had been folded up and stacked against the far wall. “It must be where people can come to get acquainted with the animals they’re thinking about adopting. Right?” She glanced at Carole for confirmation.
Carole nodded. “You got it. People can bring a dog or cat in and hang out for a while to see if it’s the pet for them. It’s quieter and more peaceful than the holding rooms, so it’s easier to get to know each other in here.”
“Oh, yeah.” Stevie shrugged sheepishly. “I guess that is kind of obvious. But hey, I haven’t been here in a long time. Just call me Ms. Short-Term Memory.”
“That’s exactly why CARL has its holiday fund-raiser party every December,” Carole said, dipping her paintbrush into a large can of yellow paint. As a further condition of her punishment, Carole had been spending most of her free time lately volunteering with Hometown Hope, a group that fixed up run-down houses and other buildings and sometimes built new houses for poor families. That week they were sprucing up the grounds and buildings at CARL. “I mean, it’s not just a fun way to raise money. It’s also a way to remind people in the community that the shelter is here, and that it can use their help and support all year long.”
“Wow.” Stevie shot Carole a sidelong glance. “You really have been talking to people here, haven’t you? You’re practically a professional CARL cheerleader.”
“It’s a great cause,” Carole said, blushing slightly as she started brushing paint onto the narrow space between the door and the adjacent wall. “I guess I can get kind of worked up about it sometimes.”
Lisa smiled. “Kind of. But we understand.”
Stevie watched as Lisa grabbed a paint pan and carefully poured some of the yellow paint into it. “Too bad I won’t get to write that article about the fund-raiser,” she muttered. “You could have helped me a lot with my research.” A couple of weeks earlier Stevie had joined the staff of her school newspaper, the Fenton Hall Senti
nel. So far she’d had the chance to write a couple of interesting articles, but as a new reporter, she was pretty much last in line when it came to the really juicy assignments. When Carole had told her about the CARL fund-raiser the afternoon before, Stevie had been so sure that the story was her ticket to the front page that she’d called the editor, Theresa Cruz, at home to tell her about it. She still couldn’t believe what Theresa’s response had been. Sorry, Stevie, the editor had told her briskly. You’re a little late. Mary Zane came up with the same idea back in November.
“That is too bad,” Carole agreed, bending down to pick a piece of lint out of the paint can. “You would have done a great job, Stevie.”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Don’t encourage her, Carole, please,” she begged in mock dismay as she picked up a roller and started spreading yellow paint over the white primer on the wall. “The whole drive over here, all I heard about was how unfair it was that another reporter gets to do her big story. Never mind that this all happened, like, weeks before Stevie even decided to join the school paper in the first place.”
Stevie frowned, reaching for the second roller to help with the painting. “Very funny,” she said. “It is unfair. Mary doesn’t even have any pets. What does she know about an animal shelter?”
“You’re still coming to the fund-raiser, though, aren’t you?” Carole asked anxiously. “I mean, I know I only got two free tickets, but—”
“Don’t worry,” Stevie interrupted, smiling at the worried look on her friend’s face. “I’m still coming. And you and Lisa can use those tickets. Phil and I don’t mind paying for ours. The price is kind of steep, but our parents already said they’d help out if we’re a little short. And it’s all for a good cause, right?”
“Carole?” one of the young men broke into their conversation, walking over at that moment. “We just finished taping off the doors. Can you and your friends handle the painting for a little while? Jay and I haven’t had a lunch break yet.”
“Sure, Louis,” Carole replied. “We’ll be fine. Have a good lunch.”
When the three girls were alone, Stevie cleared her throat and glanced at Lisa. She’d been thinking about something ever since the topic of the fund-raiser had come up—and it didn’t have anything to do with the Sentinel. “So, Lisa,” she said hesitantly. “Um, I was just wondering. Er, it sounds like this fund-raiser is going to be kind of, um … Well, it sounds like there will be dancing and stuff. So I was just wondering if you were planning to, you know, ask anybody. As a date.”
Lisa shot her a quick, unreadable glance. Then she shrugged. “I don’t think so,” she replied. “I know Alex and I are supposed to see other people—that’s what we agreed to do—but it’s kind of soon.”
Stevie tried not to let her relief show. Lisa had been dating Stevie’s twin brother, Alex, for the better part of a year. Just a few days earlier, the two of them had decided to take a break from their relationship and see other people for a while. Stevie still wasn’t sure she understood why—she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to take a break from her boyfriend, Phil Marsten, even though they’d been together much longer than Lisa and Alex had. As far as Stevie was concerned, it was kind of silly for two people who cared about each other to choose not to be together.
“I hear you,” she said casually, not wanting Lisa to guess what she was thinking. “Still, maybe you just need to jump right in and do it. Why not ask a guy you like as a friend? I mean, not every date has to be some huge romantic thing, right? You could just ask someone as, like, a buddy thing. Say, someone like Scott.”
“Scott?” Carole put in, looking surprised. “You think Lisa should ask Scott out?”
“Sure,” Stevie replied. “Why not? He’s a nice guy, right? Not bad-looking. Totally presentable.” She smiled blandly. Scott Forester and his sister, Callie, had moved to Willow Creek the previous summer. Their father was a congressman who commuted from the peaceful small town to nearby Washington, D.C. Callie had been a junior endurance champion in her old hometown on the West Coast, so Stevie and her friends had adopted her into their group almost immediately. Then one rainy night over the summer, Stevie, Carole, and Callie had been involved in a serious car accident, which had left Callie unable to walk without crutches for many months. Right after the accident, Scott had been very angry with Stevie, blaming her for his sister’s problems, since she’d been driving the car. But eventually he had seen that no one was at fault, and before long Stevie could hardly imagine a time when she and Scott hadn’t been friends.
“Scott?” Lisa repeated dubiously, pausing in her painting long enough to tuck her hair behind her ear and glance at Stevie. “I don’t know. I mean, I like Scott and everything, but it’s not like we’re best friends. If I wanted to ask any guy on a friendly date like you’re talking about, I’d probably ask someone like A.J.”
Stevie frowned. “A.J.?” she said. “Forget A.J. Scott would make a way better date. I mean, A.J.’s, like, short.”
Lisa looked surprised. “So what if he’s short? What do you have against A.J. all of a sudden?” she demanded.
“Nothing.” Stevie grinned weakly, realizing she might be coming off as obnoxious. Maybe even a little psychotic. After all, A.J. McDonnell was Phil’s best friend of many years, and Stevie had always been crazy about him. “A.J.’s cool. I was just, um, kidding.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Carole put in, glancing over from her work near the door. “Why don’t you ask A.J., Lisa? You’ll still have the free ticket, so each of you would only need to come up with half the price of a ticket.”
“Wait!” Stevie exclaimed, feeling rather desperate. The conversation was rapidly rolling out of her control. “Forget A.J. What about Scott?”
“What about him?” Lisa asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. “What’s with you, Stevie? Why are you suddenly so hyped to hook me up with Scott?”
Stevie realized there was no point keeping her problem from her best friends. Maybe they could even help her figure out a way to deal with it. Feeling sheepish, she took a deep breath. “Okay, I might as well tell you guys. I think Scott might, um, like me. You know—as in like like me.”
“Huh?” Carole shot her a suspicious look. “I don’t get it. What’s the punch line?”
“This isn’t a joke!” Stevie protested. “I mean it, I think Scott has a crush on me. Haven’t you noticed the way he always seems to be hanging around Pine Hollow lately? At first it made sense, since he had to drive Callie around everywhere. But her leg is all better now—she could easily walk to Pine Hollow from their house, so there’s no reason for him to be there all the time, since he doesn’t even ride.”
Lisa looked pensive. “Hey, you know, you’re right,” she said. “I hadn’t really thought much about it, but Scott does hang out at the stable a lot.” She grinned. “Still, what makes you think you have anything to do with it? Maybe he just secretly dreams of joining the beginners’ class.”
“Yeah, right,” Stevie replied sarcastically. “Or maybe he’s hooked on the smell of manure. Come on, guys. It’s not like Scott couldn’t find something better to do with his time. He’s not exactly Mr. Shy and Lonely, in case you hadn’t noticed.” That was an understatement, and Stevie knew it. Scott had inherited his politician father’s gift for connecting with people and making friends. “So why would he start spending all his spare time at Pine Hollow for no apparent reason?”
“Okay, that’s a point,” Carole said diplomatically. “But seriously, Stevie, what makes you think he’s interested in you? Not that you’re not, like, totally lovable and all, of course.” She grinned. “But like you said, Scott’s no pathetic Mr. Lonely Heart. And he knows about Phil.”
Stevie shrugged. “I know. But he’s always, you know, talking to me and saying hi in the halls at school and stuff. Um, and we did spend a lot of time together when he was running for student body president a while back.” She paused and bit her lip. When she said it out loud, it really didn’t sound like much to
go on. Carole and Lisa were both students at the public high school in town, so they had no way of knowing what went on at Fenton Hall, the private school that Stevie and the Foresters attended. “Come on, though,” she insisted. “Evidence or not, I’m not imagining things here. Really. You know how it is—you can always sort of tell when a guy is into you. It’s just a weird sort of feeling, right?”
“Sure,” Lisa said immediately. “I know what you mean.”
Carole shrugged. “I don’t,” she admitted. “You guys are the experts when it comes to this stuff, I guess.”
Stevie shot her a quick glance. A few days earlier Carole had confided to her and Lisa that she was interested in Ben Marlow, one of the stable hands at Pine Hollow. Stevie hadn’t been totally surprised—she had noticed for a while now that Carole got kind of tongue-tied and confused when the topic turned to Ben—but that didn’t mean she was happy about it. Carole wasn’t very experienced when it came to guys and dating, and Ben was a difficult case, to say the least. The brooding young stable hand seemed determined to maintain a wall of coolness and suspicion between himself and the world, and Stevie didn’t want Carole to run up against that wall and get hurt. “Well, anyway, Lisa,” she said, “it would make me feel better if you could get Scott to focus on someone else for a while. Specifically, someone like you.”
Lisa looked unconvinced. “I don’t know, Stevie,” she said slowly. “I’d love to help you out, but I’m just not sure I’m ready to ask anyone out on a date yet. Even a platonic friend like Scott.”
“Oh.” Stevie was disappointed, but she knew better than to push it. She could tell Lisa’s mind was made up. “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t want to go with a date, I guess I can understand that.”
“The only person I can imagine going with right now is Carole.” Lisa grinned at her friend. “So how about it? Want to be my date?”
“I’d be honored,” Carole replied with a giggle. “It’s a date.”
High Stakes Page 1
