Autumn Trail

by Bonnie Bryant

  “And all Max wants is a few days off to go visit his beloved girlfriend,” Stevie said with a sigh. “It doesn’t seem like much to ask.” She thought about what it would be like if she didn’t ever have time to see her own boyfriend, Phil Marsten, and decided she definitely wouldn’t like it. Stevie and Phil had met at riding camp, and even though he lived in a town about twenty minutes’ drive from Willow Creek, they managed to see each other at least once or twice a month.

  “Well, even if we don’t have any ideas right now, I think we should try to help Max somehow,” Lisa said.

  The others nodded in agreement.

  Before they left the stable, Lisa told her friends that she wanted to go check on Pepper. She was still worried about his strange behavior the other day, and she wanted to see if staying inside had helped him return to normal.

  “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes,” Stevie said. “I’m going to talk to some of the others from class about Max’s problem. Maybe someone has more of an idea than we do.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Carole offered. She and Stevie headed for the locker area of the stable, where the riders stowed their belongings.

  Lisa walked off toward Pepper’s stall. Even before she arrived, she knew something was amiss. Usually, as soon as anyone turned into the long passageway that formed one side of the U-shaped row of stalls, the old horse was at the front of his stall, looking for attention. But now, even though Barq and Garnet and several other horses were watching Lisa’s approach, Pepper’s gentle gray face was nowhere to be seen. When Lisa reached his stall, she could see why. Pepper was standing with his head hanging low, facing the back corner of the stall. He barely seemed to know that Lisa was there. The only sign that he noticed her at all was that one ear flicked slowly back as she approached.

  “How does he look?”

  Lisa was concentrating so hard on Pepper that she didn’t notice that Max was behind her until he spoke.

  She turned around. “Not so good,” she said worriedly. “Last week I thought it was just the cold weather that was making him so listless. But he doesn’t seem much better now that he’s inside. Do you think he’s sick?”

  “I’ve been worried about Pepper, too. That’s why I asked Judy Barker to look at him the last time she was here.”

  “What did she say?” Lisa asked. Carole had told her friends lots of stories about the vet’s work, and the way she had healed horses with all kinds of seemingly mysterious ailments. Lisa hoped Judy could do the same for Pepper.

  But Max was shaking his head. “She didn’t feel there was much to be done. Pepper is old. Very old. He’s just getting tired out.”

  Lisa knew that since his retirement, Pepper hadn’t had as much energy as he used to. She figured that she’d just have to get used to this calmer personality of his. Besides, Pepper had been staying inside for only a few days, and he had spent one night out in freezing temperatures. It would probably take him a while to recover from that, especially at his age. She just wished that she had thought to ask Max to bring Pepper inside earlier, as soon as it had started getting chilly at night.

  Still, she thought that Judy should be doing something for Pepper other than calling him old. “Did she give you any medicine for him or anything?” she asked.

  Max put one hand on Lisa’s shoulder. “The only medicine Pepper needs right now is to know that he still has friends like you who care about him.”

  “Oh, I do,” Lisa replied fervently. “I’ll make sure he knows it.” As Max headed back to his office, Lisa picked up a body brush and let herself into Pepper’s stall. Talking gently to the old horse, she started to groom his already spotless coat. She knew that most horses, including Pepper, enjoyed being groomed whether they needed it or not. They just liked the attention and the feel of the brushes. Lisa had often thought of it as being a lot like a massage. Now she made sure she took special care to hit all of the spots Pepper most liked scratched.

  By the time she left Pepper’s stall, Lisa was sure that the old horse looked happier than he had when she’d arrived. He even moved to the front of the stall and watched as she walked away. She knew that, because she turned around at the end of the hallway to blow him a kiss. He gave a little nicker, as if he understood what she was doing.

  Lisa smiled as she headed outside to meet her friends. Max was right. All Pepper needed was more attention. He had probably been bored out there in the pasture by himself all the time. She vowed to spend some time with him whenever she came to Pine Hollow.

  THAT NIGHT AT the dinner table at Stevie’s house, the talk was all about Thanksgiving and the Lakes’ upcoming trip to visit Mrs. Lake’s sister and her family in Darlington, Maryland. They were leaving the next afternoon right after school. Stevie had been so busy at Pine Hollow lately that she hadn’t started packing yet, but she figured she’d do it right after dinner. Stevie never wasted much time on boring things like packing.

  Stevie always looked forward to this yearly trip, despite the fact that her aunt’s Thanksgiving dinner had to be among the worst in the country. Aside from the turkey and stuffing, the whole dinner always consisted entirely of root vegetables—turnips, parsnips, rutabagas, and the like. Over the years, Stevie and her brothers had devised plenty of ingenious ways of slipping the worst of these vegetables to the family dogs.

  Even though Thanksgiving dinner didn’t rank high on Stevie’s list of fun things in life, seeing her cousins definitely did. There were three of them, and they were all girls, which meant that for once Stevie’s brothers were outnumbered.

  Stevie’s other favorite thing about the trip was going to the Darlington Fall Festival, a small country fair that was held every year on the Saturday and Sunday after Thanksgiving. The Festival had plenty of game booths and raffles and contests, and even a few carnival rides. The local residents set up tables to sell handcrafted items and homemade baked goods and preserves. There was a farm show, with prizes for the largest produce and the healthiest animals. On Saturday night there was a big dance called the Festival Frolic.

  In Stevie’s opinion the best part of the fair was the amateur horse show that was held on Sunday afternoon. Actually, it was part horse show, part rodeo, part free-for-all—and all fun. The entrants ranged from five-year-olds on Shetland ponies to experienced riders on Thoroughbreds to little old ladies riding sidesaddle on giant farm horses.

  The most popular event in the show was undoubtedly the costume parade. The audience had to guess what each horse and rider was supposed to be, and then vote on the best costumes. The previous year the blue ribbon had gone to a girl a little younger than Stevie. She had ridden out into the ring dressed all in red, with fronds of greenery sprouting from her hard hat. Stevie had been the first to figure out that the girl was supposed to be a radish—and that because she was on horseback, naturally that made her a horseradish! Stevie was pretty sure that her aunt had appreciated the girl’s costume, too. After all, radishes were one of her favorite vegetables.

  All in all, Stevie thought that there were only a couple of bad things about the costume parade and the other equestrian events. One was that she couldn’t participate in them herself, since her relatives didn’t own any horses. The other was that Carole and Lisa couldn’t be there to enjoy it with her. Still, the Festival was one of the things that made Thanksgiving special to Stevie.

  “I wish I could be in the costume contest,” Stevie remarked wistfully. “I’d win first prize for sure. I have a million great ideas.”

  Her twin brother, Alex, snorted. “You and your one-track mind. There’s more to the Festival than the horse show, you know. For instance, you can watch me win all the prizes at the dart-balloon booth.” He pretended to wind up and throw a dart, aiming at Stevie’s head.

  “In your dreams,” Stevie shot back. “You know I beat you at that booth every time we played last year.” It was true. Stevie had ended up with a giant stuffed bear, while Alex had only been able to win some plastic cars and a key chain.


  “I like the duck game the best,” announced Michael, Stevie’s youngest brother. “It’s easy to win.”

  “Right,” Stevie said. “All you have to do to win a prize is pick up a plastic duck. Maybe Alex should try it. Even he couldn’t lose.”

  “Funny,” Alex said. Checking to make sure Mr. and Mrs. Lake weren’t looking, he opened his mouth as wide as he could, displaying the partially chewed contents to Stevie. Michael and Chad, Stevie’s oldest brother, laughed.

  She ignored them. “Mom, what’s your favorite part of the Festival?” she asked, putting some more salad onto her plate.

  “Well, I do like the dance,” she said. “But the best part of the weekend for me isn’t the Festival, it’s seeing your aunt. Considering that we don’t live very far apart, it seems as though I hardly ever get to spend time with her.”

  “Who says we don’t live far apart?” Alex protested. “All I know is it takes practically forever to get to their house.”

  “It certainly seems to take forever when I have to spend the whole trip trapped in the car with them,” Stevie said, gesturing at her brothers.

  “I don’t even care if I have to sit by Stevie the whole way. The trip is going to be a blast this year. I can’t wait to get there,” said Chad dreamily. Chad was two years older than Stevie, and the year before, he had met a girl named Ellen, who was a friend of their cousin Mia’s. Chad and Ellen had really hit it off, and they had been exchanging letters and phone calls for the past year. Chad always insisted that she wasn’t really his girlfriend, but it was obvious that he liked her a lot.

  Stevie and Alex exchanged a look, then started chanting in unison, “Chad and Ellen, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I—”

  “That’s enough, you two,” Mr. Lake interrupted. Stevie would have sworn her father was trying to hold back a smile. “Stop teasing your brother.”

  “Stevie,” Mrs. Lake said, obviously trying to change the subject, “I’m sure you’re looking forward to the Festival this year.”

  “Sure, Mom,” Stevie said distractedly. Thinking about Chad and Ellen had reminded her of another romantic couple—namely, Max and his mystery woman, Lillian. And that reminded her that unless The Saddle Club could come up with a solution to Max’s personnel problem, it was likely that Max wouldn’t be able to see his girlfriend that weekend at all.

  Suddenly the perfect solution popped into Stevie’s mind. She was so excited that she almost choked on the mouthful of peas she was eating. After gulping down some water, she was able to speak. “Mom, Dad? I have an idea,” she said, trying to sound as mature as possible. She didn’t have time to think of the best way to approach them with the idea. She’d just have to tell them her plan and hope for the best.

  Her parents looked at her, surprised by the serious tone of her voice. “Yes, Stevie? What is it?” her mother asked.

  “Well, you see, Max has this problem. He has a very special friend he wants to visit this weekend, but he can’t go unless he can find someone to help Red at the stable.”

  “And?” Mr. Lake said expectantly. Although Stevie’s parents claimed to disapprove of most of Stevie’s schemes, she suspected that they often rather enjoyed hearing them. However, she also knew that just because they listened to them didn’t guarantee that they would be willing to go along with them.

  She took a deep breath. “I was thinking, Max hardly ever gets time off, and he deserves a vacation for a change. And Carole and Lisa and I were just talking about the meaning of Thanksgiving the other day—”

  She was interrupted by a snort from Chad. “I bet you were. The meaning of Thanksgiving according to you guys must have something to do with horses. Let me guess, you decided that the real reason the Pilgrims came to America was because we have better riding trails.”

  “Chad,” Mr. Lake said warningly.

  Normally Stevie would have come back with an insult of her own, but right now she didn’t want anything to distract her. So she just gave her brother a withering look, then turned back to her parents.

  “Anyway, we decided that the best way to celebrate Thanksgiving was by doing something to help someone else, you know, without thinking of yourself at all,” she said earnestly. “Something generous and totally selfless.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Lake looked at each other in surprise. “What a lovely thought, Stevie,” Mrs. Lake said. “But what exactly did you have in mind?”

  “I want to stay here this weekend and help out so Max can go on his trip,” Stevie said. “After all, practically no one knows the stable and the horses better than I do. And I’m pretty sure I can stay at Lisa’s house while you guys are gone. They’re just having Thanksgiving dinner at home this year.” No matter how selfless she was being, Stevie didn’t consider staying with Carole for a single moment. There was no way she was staying in the same house as Veronica!

  Mr. Lake looked thoughtful. “But what about the Fall Festival? I thought you loved that.”

  “Oh, I do,” Stevie said. “But that’s what Thanksgiving is about, isn’t it? Helping other people, even if you have to give up some things to do it.”

  “Well, Stevie, I’m proud of you,” Mrs. Lake said.

  “For wanting to help Max, you mean?” Stevie said.

  Mrs. Lake chuckled. “Well, that too. But mostly I’m proud of you for just coming out and asking us about this, instead of concocting some sort of devious plan to trick us into agreeing to it.”

  Stevie didn’t know quite how to answer that, so she just smiled. She also crossed her fingers under the table. Her parents hadn’t actually said yes yet, and now that she’d come up with this idea, Stevie knew it was an absolutely perfect Thanksgiving project.

  “Well, I think she’s crazy to want to pass up this trip,” Alex announced.

  “Me, too,” Michael piped up.

  Chad didn’t say anything. Stevie glanced at him and saw that he was gazing down into his mashed potatoes with a goofy smile on his face. He was slowly stirring the potatoes and humming softly. Stevie was sure he was thinking about Ellen, but she resisted the strong urge to tease him and looked back at her parents. They were both still looking thoughtful.

  “Please, Mom and Dad,” Stevie said. “This means a lot to me.”

  Her parents exchanged another glance. “We’ll think about it, Stevie,” Mr. Lake said. “And we will take your sincerity into account.”

  “Thanks,” Stevie said, with what she hoped was an encouraging smile. This was the first time she could remember trying the straightforward approach with anything this important. She couldn’t believe it, but it seemed to be working.

  AFTER DINNER STEVIE called Lisa and told her about her plan. Lisa checked with her parents, who said they’d be happy to have Stevie stay there. Lisa also promised to help pitch in at the stable herself.

  Stevie found her parents relaxing in the den and told them what the Atwoods had said. “So what do you say?” she asked, holding her breath while she waited for their answer.

  Mr. Atwood set down the magazine he was reading. “Well, Stevie, we’ve discussed it. We know that you must really want to help Max if you’re willing to give up the trip to Maryland for him.”

  “That’s right,” Stevie agreed eagerly. “Max does so much for me all year long, I just thought he needed his trip more than I need mine.”

  “All right, Stevie,” Mrs. Atwood said. “If it means that much to you, you have our permission.”

  “Oh, great!” Stevie exclaimed, giving both her parents giant bear hugs. “Thanks a million! I’ve got to go call Max and tell him the good news right away.”

  She rushed into the kitchen to call Max and volunteer her services as an assistant stable hand. At first she had a hard time convincing him that, first of all, she was serious about it, and second of all, she had already cleared it with her parents. But after she put Mrs. Lake on the phone to confirm it, Max was full of gratitude.

  “I really appreciate this, Stevie,” he said. “This trip is very important to me
, and for a while there it was looking as though my mother and I weren’t going to be able to go.”

  Stevie was surprised to hear that Mrs. Reg was going along with Max on his romantic visit. That seemed to disprove Carole’s theory about an elopement. Maybe Lisa was right and this was a first date, and maybe Mrs. Reg had arranged it. Stevie decided that this was just one more mysterious detail they would have to investigate.

  “It’s all set,” Stevie told her parents after she finished talking to Max and hung up the phone. “Max leaves tomorrow morning.”

  “I hope you realize, Stevie, you’ve taken on a big responsibility,” Mr. Lake said. “Max is really counting on you.”

  “I know,” Stevie said. “It’ll be even more work than that time Carole and Lisa and I took over for Mrs. Reg when she had to go see her sick friend.” She smiled at the memory. That time The Saddle Club had misinterpreted some of Mrs. Reg’s instructions and had ended up doing more work than they really had to because of it. But everything had turned out all right in the end, and Stevie was sure she’d learned a lot from the experience. That knowledge would come in handy now, especially with both Max and Mrs. Reg away. “But it’ll be fun. I can’t wait.”

  “Well, we’ll miss you,” Mrs. Lake said. She paused. “Most of us, anyway.”

  Stevie rolled her eyes. “If you’re referring to my dear brothers, let me assure you I won’t miss them either.”

  “That’s not who I meant,” Mrs. Lake said with a mischievous smile. “I was just thinking that your aunt Louise will probably be relieved not to have a replay of last year’s parsnip incident.”

  “Oh, that,” Stevie said, giggling. It had been one of her finest moments. At Thanksgiving dinner the year before, Stevie had put a parsnip on her linen napkin and jerked the napkin tight to make the parsnip jump up. It had jumped a little higher than she had been expecting and had ended up mashed on the ceiling. It had remained there, much to her aunt’s dismay, until dessert, when it had dislodged itself and plopped back down—right into Chad’s pumpkin pie.