Summer Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  A HORSE SHE DOESN’T LIKE?

  “Hey there, Ditto,” Carole said to attract the horse’s attention. To her surprise, he started. Then, with a snort, he whirled around to face her. “Whoa! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Carole tried to make her voice as quiet and unthreatening as possible. “Come here, boy.” She held out her hand for the horse to sniff.

  Ditto regarded her suspiciously for a long moment. Finally he stretched his neck forward, not moving his feet an inch, and quickly snuffled Carole’s hand. Just as quickly, he jerked his head back again.

  Carole withdrew her hand. “Wow, you seem a little jittery for a camp horse,” she said. “I guess it must be all the excitement of the first day. But don’t worry, I’m sure we’re going to be great friends before long. I never met a horse I didn’t like.”

  RL 5, 009–012

  SUMMER HORSE

  A Bantam Skylark Book/July 1997

  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 © 1997 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: 978-0-307-82567-4

  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

  I would like to express my special thanks

  to Catherine Hapka for her help

  in the writing of this book.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  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

  “COME ON, CAROLE,” Stevie Lake said. “Stop whispering sweet nothings into Starlight’s ear and get him ready to go. I’m in the mood for a trail ride.”

  Carole Hanson looked over the top of the stall door at Stevie, who was grinning at her from outside. “Very funny,” Carole said, continuing to stroke her horse’s soft nose. “You know very well we can’t go until Lisa gets here.”

  Lisa Atwood was their friend and the third founding member of The Saddle Club. The three girls had formed the club after they had met and become friends at Pine Hollow Stables. The Saddle Club had only two rules: Members had to be horse-crazy, and they had to be willing to help one another with any problem, great or small.

  Stevie leaned against the stall door, stretching to give Starlight, a handsome bay gelding, a pat on the neck. “I’m just kidding,” she said. “I know exactly how you feel. I missed Belle while we were away, too.” The Saddle Club had returned a few days earlier from a visit to the Bar None, a dude ranch out West that was owned by the parents of a friend of theirs. Belle was Stevie’s horse, a lively bay mare.

  Just then a familiar voice came from behind Stevie. “Ahem.”

  The girls turned and saw Max Regnery, the owner and manager of Pine Hollow, standing in the aisle with his hands on his hips.

  “Oh, hi, Max,” Stevie said, sounding a little guilty. She knew Max hated seeing riders standing around talking when there were stable chores to be done. And there were always stable chores to be done. Riders were expected to help with everything that went into running the stable, from mucking out stalls to cleaning tack to sweeping the aisles. That way Max didn’t have to hire a lot of extra stable hands and could keep fees down.

  “Hi, Stevie,” Max said. He glanced into Starlight’s stall. “Hello, Carole. What are you girls up to? You look a little bored.”

  “Oh, no, Max,” Stevie replied quickly. “We’re just waiting for Lisa. She should be here any minute—any second, really. You know how she is. She’s never late.”

  “Well, how about if you wait for her in the tack room?” Max suggested. “There’s a box of irons in there that could use cleaning and sorting.”

  The girls knew better than to argue. Carole said good-bye to Starlight, and soon she and Stevie were seated on a couple of trunks in the tack room with a cardboard box on the floor between them.

  “Don’t worry,” Stevie said as she searched through the box for a match to the stirrup iron she was holding. “Soon we’ll be at camp, and you know what that means—a whole month of rest from all these chores, courtesy of the Moose Hill stable hands.” All three members of The Saddle Club were leaving for Moose Hill Riding Camp the following week. They had been to Moose Hill before, and they agreed that it was one of their favorite places in the entire world. This year for the first time, the camp was offering monthlong sessions in addition to the usual two weeks, and The Saddle Club had signed up for one of the longer sessions immediately.

  Carole really didn’t mind pitching in around the stable, but she had to admit it would be nice to take a break for a while. “I think we should still take care of our own horses, though,” she said.

  “Sure,” Stevie said with a shrug. “That goes without saying. But at least we won’t have to do boring stuff like sorting irons.” She tossed the irons she had just polished and tied together into one of the trunks. “It will practically be a life of leisure. That’s what our parents are paying the big bucks for, right?”

  Carole nodded, looking worried. “I guess so.”

  Stevie noticed her friend’s expression. “What’s the matter?”

  Carole shrugged and leaned over to get another pair of irons out of the box. “Nothing, really,” she said. “It’s just that I didn’t realize camp was going to be so expensive this year. And since I’m taking Starlight, it adds up even more.” Moose Hill campers had a choice of bringing their own horses or riding the ones owned by the camp. This year Stevie and Carole were planning to bring their own horses. Lisa, who didn’t have a horse of her own and normally rode a Pine Hollow horse named Prancer, was going to ride a camp horse.

  “I guess the prices did go up,” Stevie said. “Now that I think about it, my parents complained about it when they got the bill the other day.”

  “My dad didn’t complain, exactly,” Carole said. “But I saw his face when he opened the bill. He didn’t look very happy.” Carole’s father was a colonel in the Marine Corps. He made a comfortable living, but he wasn’t as well-to-do as Stevie’s parents, who were both lawyers. Carole knew that her father always tried to give her everything she needed. But she also knew that most of what she wanted had to do with horses, and horses were expensive.

  “My mom and dad never look happy when they open bills,” Stevie said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Carole wiped dirt off the ir
on she was holding. “I can’t help worrying,” she said. “What if camp costs too much this year? Maybe Dad’s just trying to figure out how to break it to me that I can’t go.”

  “This is your father we’re talking about, remember?” Stevie said, giving her friend a look of genuine surprise. “Since when does he keep something like that to himself?”

  “You’re right,” Carole said. “He would have told me.” Ever since her mother had died a few years earlier, Carole and her father had been closer than before. She knew he wouldn’t keep really bad news from her, such as not being able to send her to camp. “But what if it costs just enough to make him worry?”

  “I don’t know,” Stevie said. She dropped another set of irons into the trunk. “Maybe you should talk to him about it.”

  “I think I will,” Carole said. “If I don’t, I’ll probably worry the whole time I’m at camp, and I won’t be able to enjoy myself.”

  Stevie leaned back and smiled. “Now, that’s one thing I’m not worried about,” she said dreamily. “I know I’m going to enjoy every minute of camp.”

  “That wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain young fellow named Phil, would it?” Carole asked. Despite her own worries, she couldn’t resist teasing Stevie about her boyfriend, Phil Marsten. The couple had met during The Saddle Club’s first stay at Moose Hill.

  Stevie grinned. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But don’t tell Belle—you know how jealous she can be.” She sighed happily. “It’s going to be so great. We’ll have a whole month to go for romantic trail rides through the woods, help each other with our dressage training, spend hours together grooming our horses …”

  “If you and Phil are going to be doing all that together, I think Belle might begin to suspect something,” Carole pointed out.

  Stevie hardly heard her. She was too busy thinking over all the plans she had made. “We’ll even be able to reenact our very first date. We walked down to the pond that first night at camp, remember?” She sighed again. “It’s going to be great to spend so much time with him.”

  Carole nodded understandingly. Phil lived about ten miles away from the girls’ hometown of Willow Creek, so he and Stevie were only able to see each other occasionally.

  A few minutes later Carole stood up and stretched. The box of irons was almost empty. “We’re just about done here,” she said. She glanced at her watch. “I wonder what’s keeping Lisa? It’s not like her to be late. You did tell her to meet us at ten o’clock, right?”

  Before Stevie could answer, Max came into the tack room. He peered into the box and nodded, looking satisfied. “Nice work, girls,” he said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you for a whole month. Who am I going to turn to when it’s time to hose down the manure pit?”

  Stevie shuddered, but Carole just frowned. Max’s comment had reminded her about the cost of camp. “I almost wish we had to do that at Moose Hill, too,” she muttered.

  Max looked surprised. “Am I hearing things?” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re not looking forward to being waited on hand and hoof by the Moose Hill staff.” He spoke lightly, but Carole and Stevie knew that he disapproved of that aspect of the way Moose Hill was run. Max believed that riding meant more than climbing in and out of a saddle, and that a good rider was involved in every aspect of horse care, even the tedious and unpleasant ones.

  “I wouldn’t mind getting waited on a little less if it meant camp cost a little less,” Carole admitted. She told Max about her worries.

  Max nodded. “Believe me, I understand your concern,” he said. “Moose Hill’s prices have gone up quite a bit since last year, especially the boarding fees. I was thinking about sending Prancer to camp with Lisa—Prancer could use the intensive kind of work she’d get there. But when I found out how much it would cost, I changed my mind.” He shook his head. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on at Moose Hill, but they seem to be making a lot of changes.”

  “Changes?” Stevie said, finishing the irons and dropping them into the trunk. “What kind of changes?”

  “Well, there’s the new monthlong session, for one,” Max said. “Also, I understand they’ve added more cabins to allow them to take in more campers. And there are new tennis courts and so forth.” He paused, noticing Carole’s and Stevie’s surprised expressions. “Didn’t you read the brochure?”

  The two girls exchanged looks. “Uh, not really,” Carole admitted. “I think Lisa might have. But I was too excited to bother.”

  “Me too,” Stevie said. “Besides, we’ve been there before. I didn’t think the brochure would tell me anything I didn’t know.”

  Carole was back to thinking about her own problem. “I just can’t believe this is happening,” she said. “I don’t want to feel guilty every time I look at Starlight while I’m there. I’m really looking forward to riding him nonstop for a month, especially after a whole week without him at the Bar None. I really missed him.”

  Max looked thoughtful. “Carole, I have a suggestion for you.”

  “What is it?” Carole asked eagerly. She knew Max’s suggestions were almost always good ones.

  “Well, I’m not sure you’re going to like it,” Max said, sitting down on a trunk near the girls. “You know I always say a good rider can ride any horse well, right?”

  Carole and Stevie nodded. It was one of Max’s favorite sayings.

  Just then they all heard footsteps approaching. A moment later, Lisa walked into the tack room. “Hello, Lisa,” Max greeted her. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re the perfect example of what I was just about to say.” He turned back to Carole. “Lisa rides Prancer most of the time, but occasionally she has to take a turn on a different horse. Those occasions help her ride Prancer better. Not having her own horse has almost certainly helped Lisa progress so fast as a rider.” Lisa hadn’t been riding as long as either of her friends, but she had learned quickly. “Learning to ride all sorts of horses is good for her progress—for anybody’s progress. No matter how long she’s been riding.”

  “I think I know what you’re saying,” Carole said. “And you were right. I don’t like it. What’s the point of going to camp just to be miserable? I can’t imagine being there without Starlight.”

  Stevie nodded sympathetically. She hadn’t owned Belle as long as Carole had owned Starlight, but she knew exactly how her friend felt. It would be terrible to go to camp and leave her horse behind.

  Max just shrugged. “I’m not telling you what to do, Carole,” he said quietly. “I’m just saying that it wouldn’t hurt for you to have some of that kind of learning once in a while.”

  “I just did, remember?” Carole pointed out. “I spent a whole week riding a different horse at the Bar None.”

  “You know that’s not the same thing,” Max said. “That was just a few days of riding for fun. This will be four weeks of intensive training and learning.” He held up a hand. “I can see a month without Starlight is out of the question. But I have another idea.”

  Carole glanced at her two friends, then back at Max. “What is it?” she asked apprehensively.

  “It’s sort of a compromise,” Max said. “If you want to ride a camp horse for the first two weeks of camp, I’ll arrange to have Starlight brought down to Moose Hill for the second two weeks. That way you’ll get a good amount of experience on another horse, but you’ll be able to enjoy your own horse, too.”

  Carole bit her lip. “Leave Starlight here for two weeks? That would mean I’d save … hmmm …” She quickly figured out the savings in her head. It was a substantial amount, even after figuring in Starlight’s usual Pine Hollow boarding fees. “Wow,” she said. “Maybe it would be worth it.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll do it, Max. And not just because of the money. You’re right—it will be good for me.”

  “Carole, are you sure about this?” Stevie cried.

  “I’m sure,” Carole said. She managed a weak grin. “I’ll be fine on one of the camp horses. After all, I never met a
horse I didn’t like.”

  “I think you’ll be glad you did this, Carole,” Max said. “And don’t worry about arranging the change in plans with Moose Hill. I’ll call them right now and get it all settled.”

  “Thanks, Max,” Carole said. She was already wondering if she’d made the right decision. But when she pictured her father’s worried face as he opened the camp bill, her doubts faded. Max hurried out of the tack room, and Carole decided it was time to take her mind off the whole situation. Luckily she knew the perfect way to do that. “Now that you’re here, Lisa, let’s tack up and go,” she said. “We’ve got some serious trail riding to do.”

  Carole glanced at her friend and stopped. For the first time she realized that Lisa hadn’t said a word since coming into the room. Now she saw that Lisa looked upset enough to cry.

  Stevie had just noticed Lisa’s expression, too. “What is it?” she asked, hurrying over to her friend. “What’s wrong, Lisa?”

  Lisa gulped. “I—I got some bad news,” she began.

  Stevie and Carole exchanged worried glances. “What is it?” Carole asked gently.

  Lisa sniffled. “My report card came in the mail.”

  “Yeah, mine too,” Carole said. She and Lisa attended the public school in town. Stevie went to private school and had received her report card on her last day of school. “And?”

  “And—” Lisa sniffled again. “And I got a B-plus in math.”

  “And?” Stevie prompted, still waiting for the bad news.

  Lisa looked surprised. “Didn’t you hear me? I got a B-plus. I was expecting an A.”

  “That’s your terrible news?” Carole asked. She let out a sigh of relief, then chuckled. “I was afraid someone died or something.”

  Lisa frowned. “This is no laughing matter.”

  Stevie knew that Lisa took her schoolwork and her straight-A average seriously, but she still couldn’t believe she was so upset. “Come on,” she said, putting an arm around Lisa. “Don’t take it so hard. It’s summer, remember? Time to forget about school and have fun. Who cares about grades when it’s a beautiful day and the trails beckon?”