Horse-Sitters

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Boy, she’s a quick one, isn’t she?” Lisa commented, barely managing to avoid the big teeth. Luckily the mare seemed to lose interest in trying to nip. Instead she swung her head around, nearly yanking Lisa’s arm out of its socket as she took in the scene around her.

  “Who knew such an old horse would have so much energy?” Stevie said, rubbing her head gingerly where the hairs had been yanked out.

  “Are you all right, Lisa?” Carole asked.

  Lisa nodded quickly as she tried to follow Honeybee’s moves. The old mare wasn’t very tall—probably about fifteen hands by Carole’s guess—but she was fat, and she seemed to be strong, judging by the way she was dragging Lisa around.

  Carole hurried forward and reached for the other side of the halter. Honeybee tried to nip her again, but only halfheartedly. She seemed too distracted by her new surroundings to pay much attention.

  “Come on,” Carole said, once she had a good grip on the halter. “Let’s take her inside before she gets any more worked up.”

  Stevie hurried ahead to open the door. Carole and Lisa led the mare toward the stable building, but their progress was slow, since Honeybee seemed determined to smell and taste everything she passed. First she stopped to nibble at a fence post; then she tried to lower her head to sample a patch of grass beside the path. Then there was the stable doorway itself, which the horse chewed on for several seconds before Carole and Lisa managed to yank her head away.

  Finally the girls got Honeybee moving toward her temporary stall. Several horses peered out as the mare clattered past, including Polly Giacomin’s horse, Romeo. Nero, the oldest horse in the stable, put his head out over his half door to see who was coming. He reached out to snuffle curiously at the newcomer, but his reward was a sharp nip on the nose. He threw up his head in dismay and backed away, disappearing into his stall.

  “Sorry about that, Nero, old boy,” Carole called to him breathlessly. “I guess Honeybee doesn’t like other horses any more than she likes people.”

  Stevie opened the door to the empty stall next to Nero’s. Honeybee was reluctant to go inside at first, but when Lisa grabbed some hay from the feed bin, which Red had filled, the mare followed her eagerly inside.

  “Whew!” Lisa exclaimed. “Who was saying this job would be easy?”

  “It’s not over yet,” Carole reminded her. “We really should groom her after her trip. And we definitely need to take off her traveling bandages. And once Aunt Eugenia comes back we’ll have to get the details about the medicines she was talking about.”

  “Right,” Stevie said. “They’re probably in the van. Her grooming stuff might be there, too—I bet Aunt Genie brought along Honeybee’s own brushes and rags. Only the best for her baby, you know.”

  “You’re probably right,” Carole said. “Will you run out and check while Lisa and I get started here?”

  But Stevie’s attention had just been caught by something farther down the stable aisle. “Um, would you mind doing it? There’s something important I have to take care of first.”

  Carole and Lisa exchanged glances and shrugged. “I’ll go,” Lisa offered.

  “Good,” Stevie said, hurrying off with a little wave.

  “What do you think she’s up to now?” Lisa asked Carole.

  “I have no idea,” Carole said. “But we don’t have time to worry about it right now. Not if we’re going to be successful horse-sitters, that is. I’ll go put Honeybee on cross ties while you get her stuff. I think it will take both of us to groom her.” With that, the two girls hurried off in opposite directions.

  IT WASN’T EASY, but the two girls managed to get Honeybee groomed and settled. The old mare nipped at every brush and rag they used, and often at the fingers holding them, but thanks to the girls’ quickness they managed to escape without injury. They had just closed and latched the stall door when Stevie reappeared.

  “Where have you been?” Carole asked, a little annoyed that Stevie had managed to miss all the work.

  “Oh, are you finished already?” Stevie asked, glancing over the half door at the old mare. Honeybee was munching contentedly on a mouthful of hay. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think my errand would take so long.”

  “You can stop being so mysterious already, Stevie,” Lisa said, just as annoyed as Carole. The way she figured it, the only way The Saddle Club would be able to handle the responsibility they had taken on was if they all worked together. And that meant no running off when there was work to be done, no matter what the errand. “Where were you?”

  Stevie broke into a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. “I was in the locker room negotiating the deal for our second client,” she announced.

  “Our second client?” Carole repeated blankly. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the Saddle Club Horse-Sitting Service is really in business now,” Stevie said. “We’re going to take care of Romeo while Polly is out of town.”

  It took a moment for that to sink in. But when it did, Lisa and Carole spoke up in one voice. “Are you crazy?” they exclaimed.

  “Stop asking me that,” Stevie said, frowning. “Don’t you see? The more clients we take on, the more money we earn toward the stuff we want at The Saddlery. Polly just called her parents, and they were happy to pay us the same fee we’re getting from Aunt Eugenia. All we have to do is help out with Romeo’s usual care and, more importantly, see that he keeps up with his dressage lessons until Polly comes back.” She smiled. “Polly was so impressed with how well Belle and I did in class the other day that she’s sure Romeo will be in good hands.”

  “I don’t know, Stevie,” Lisa said doubtfully. “We were already worried about fitting in Honeybee’s care. And now we’re supposed to take care of another horse?”

  Stevie waved one hand. “You were worried,” she corrected. “But I’m not. Sure, Honeybee is a handful, but taking care of Romeo will be a breeze. Red will handle his morning feeding. All we have to do is exercise him and settle him in for the night.”

  “And go to school, do homework, go to riding class, take care of our regular stable chores …,” Lisa recited, ticking off each item on her fingers.

  “Don’t be such a worrywart,” Stevie said. “It’s just for a few days. And think of all the money we’ll be making. It still won’t be anywhere near enough to pay for everything, but at least it’s a good start.”

  Carole looked thoughtful. “You may be right, Stevie,” she admitted. “We’ll have to put in a little extra time here at Pine Hollow, but with some careful planning it should be okay.”

  Lisa shrugged and sighed. “Well, maybe you’re right,” she said. “I guess two horses won’t be that much trouble.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Stevie said. “Now come on, let’s go out and wait for Aunt Genie. We’ll ask her about that medicine and then we’ll be done.”

  “Good,” Carole said, rubbing her stomach. “It’s almost dinnertime, and I’m starving. Wrestling with Honeybee really gave me an appetite.”

  The Saddle Club strolled down the aisle. As they turned the corner toward the entrance, they nearly collided with a breathless Veronica diAngelo, who was hurrying along at breakneck speed.

  “Watch where you’re going,” she snapped.

  “Same to you,” Stevie retorted. “You know Max’s rules about running in the stable.”

  Veronica ignored her comment. “Where’s Max?” she demanded. “I need to speak to him immediately.”

  “He’s not here,” Lisa replied. She could have told Veronica that Max was just up at the house and that he would be returning soon, but somehow she didn’t feel like sharing that information.

  “What do you mean, he’s not here?” Veronica said in annoyance.

  “She means that this place, the place where you are right now, is exactly where Max isn’t right now,” Stevie replied. “Which part didn’t you understand?”

  “Shut up, Stevie,” Veronica said. “I need to see Max. It’s very important.”

  �
�Is something wrong with Danny?” Carole asked with concern. As much as she disliked Veronica, she would never want a horse to be in danger.

  “Of course not. He’s perfect as always,” Veronica replied haughtily. “The matter I have to discuss with Max is private. In other words, none of your business.” She tossed back her long, black hair. “One thing I can tell you, though: If Max knows what’s good for him, he’ll have to start spending a little more time around the stable for the next week or so.” With that, she turned and stomped away.

  “I wonder what that was all about,” Lisa said.

  “I don’t,” Stevie said. “She probably broke a nail cleaning tack and wants to tell Max she’s suing him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Stevie,” Carole replied. “What would Veronica be doing cleaning tack?” All three girls laughed.

  “Come to think of it, what’s Veronica doing here today at all?” Lisa said after a moment. “We didn’t have a riding lesson today, and she certainly didn’t show up to put in a few hours’ work mucking out stalls.”

  Before her friends could reply, the girls heard another voice calling their names. They turned to see Mr. French, one of Max’s adult riders, approaching.

  Carole smiled at him. “Hi, Mr. French,” she said. The other girls added their greetings. They all liked the friendly man. He worked for the State Department in Washington, D.C., which meant he always had plenty of interesting stories to tell. More importantly, he was an enthusiastic rider, even though he hadn’t been doing it for very long. Recently Mr. French had bought his own horse, a Tennessee walking horse named Memphis. The mare was a beautiful chestnut with smooth gaits and a gentle, even disposition.

  “Hi, girls,” Mr. French said. “I’m glad I caught you. Listen, I was just talking to a friend of yours in the tack room—Polly Giacomin. She tells me you’ll be keeping up with her horse’s training while she’s out of town.”

  “That’s right,” Stevie said proudly. “We’ve just started a new career as professional horse-sitters. Training, grooming, exercising—we do it all.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Mr. French said with a smile. “Actually, I was hoping to engage your professional services myself. I just found out I have to leave the country for a week, and I was hoping you’d look after Memphis for me while I’m gone. Of course I’d pay you the going rate.”

  Lisa spoke up before Stevie could open her mouth. “It was very nice of you to think of us, Mr. French,” she said politely. “And we’d love to take care of your beautiful horse for you. But really, there’s no need to pay us to do what Max will gladly do for free. Well, for your usual boarding fees, that is.”

  “I know,” Mr. French said. “But Max seems a little distracted these days. And you may have noticed I’ve been schooling Memphis on her running walk.”

  “I saw you practicing the other day,” Carole said eagerly. The running walk was a distinctive gait found only in the Tennessee walking horse. It was a very fast, gliding walk accompanied by a rhythmic nodding of the head. “The running walk is an inherited gait,” Carole explained to Lisa and Stevie. “You can’t teach horses to do it, but you can sometimes work with them to improve it.” She turned back to Mr. French. “Memphis seems to be responding well.”

  “Then you can understand why I’d rather pay a little extra to have someone do a little extra. I know Max and Red will give her perfect care—feed her, keep her stall clean, and so on—but they probably won’t have time to ride or school her.” He smiled at Carole. “And since I gather from your comments that you know something about what I’ve been doing, I’m more certain than ever that you girls are the best ones for the job. So what do you say?”

  “We say we’d love to,” Stevie said quickly, before Carole or Lisa could protest. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, Mr. French. Memphis will be in good hands. Professional hands.”

  “Terrific,” Mr. French said. “I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning, so she’s all yours until next Friday.”

  “Great,” Stevie said. “Thanks for thinking of us.” She waved as Mr. French hurried away. Then she turned to face her friends, who were staring at her silently. “I know, I know,” she said. “You don’t have to say it. Am I crazy? The answer is no.”

  “The answer is we don’t know the first thing about training a Tennessee walking horse,” Carole replied.

  Stevie shrugged and grinned weakly. “Come on,” she said. “We’re The Saddle Club. We can figure it out. You seemed to know exactly what Mr. French was talking about just now.”

  “Only because I’ve read about it, not because I have any actual experience,” Carole said. “I’ve never even ridden a Tennessee walking horse before.”

  “Neither had Mr. French before he got Memphis, and he’s doing just fine,” Stevie pointed out. “And he’s not nearly as experienced as we are.”

  “I just don’t know about this, Stevie,” Carole said. She realized Lisa hadn’t said anything since Mr. French had left. She was staring down at her hands, her brow furrowed as if she were thinking hard. “What do you think, Lisa?” Carole asked.

  Lisa looked up. “I think we can do it,” she announced.

  “What?” Carole was surprised. “A few minutes ago you were worried we couldn’t take care of two horses. Now you think we can handle three?”

  “Barely,” Lisa admitted. “But if we plan it right I think we’ll be okay. The way I figure it, I should do most of the work with Honeybee.”

  “You’re actually volunteering to be in charge of that beast?” Carole asked in disbelief. She liked to say she had never met a horse she didn’t like, but she had to admit Honeybee came close to changing that.

  “Yes. You see, despite all Honeybee’s bad behavior, the most important part of that job is going to be keeping Aunt Eugenia happy. And I think I’d probably be the best at that.”

  “No argument there,” Stevie replied.

  Carole nodded. “You’re definitely the most tactful with adults.”

  “Meanwhile, Stevie will be in charge of Romeo’s training,” Lisa went on.

  “Because she’s the best at dressage,” Carole guessed.

  “Right,” Lisa confirmed. “And that leaves you with Memphis. I know you don’t know much about how to train her, but Stevie and I know even less.” She shrugged. “What do you think?”

  “I guess I can do a little research,” Carole said slowly. “I have some books at home that might have a few tips.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Stevie said. “See? This is what teamwork is all about.”

  “True,” Carole said. “Although I think next time one of the team members decides to take on more clients, she should discuss it with the rest of the team first.” She gave Stevie a meaningful look.

  But Stevie wasn’t paying attention. “Just think of all the money we’ll be making,” she said happily. “It’s hard to believe that two days ago that bridle and everything seemed totally out of reach. But now we’re almost halfway there.”

  Lisa added the numbers quickly in her head. “Hey, you’re right,” she said. “Once these horse-sitting jobs are over, maybe we can come up with a way—a sensible way, that is—to earn the rest of the money.” She sighed. “I can almost feel my gorgeous new chaps right now.”

  “Well, enjoy it while you can,” Carole warned. “Because I have the funniest feeling that all we’re going to be feeling for the next week or so is tired.”

  THAT EVENING AFTER helping with the dinner dishes, Carole sat in the living room poring over one of her books. “You know, Tennessee walking horses are really fascinating,” she told her father.

  “Hmm?” Colonel Hanson replied, looking up from the magazine he was reading. “Why’s that, honey?”

  “Well, for one thing, their walk is as fast as most horses’ trots. And of course it’s much smoother. So they’re great for endurance riding, as well as lots of other things.” Carole sighed and closed the book. “I’ll be right back. I’ve read everything ther
e is in these.” She picked up the small stack of books she had brought down from her room and headed upstairs.

  She was back a few minutes later with a new stack. “One of these days you’re going to have to start your own equestrian library,” her father teased.

  Carole smiled. “Very funny,” she replied. “But seriously, I’m worried about finding the information I need in any of these books. Most of them just describe the running walk, say that it’s mostly natural, that owners can help the horse develop and refine it—but they don’t tell you how to go about doing that.” She sighed. “I don’t want to let Mr. French down.” Over dinner she had told her father about Stevie’s latest moneymaking plan. He had been a little concerned at how much extra work the girls were taking on until Carole had promised him her schoolwork wouldn’t suffer.

  “If I know you girls, you won’t let him down,” he predicted. “You’ll find a way to triumph. You always do.”

  That made Carole feel a little better. “I hope so,” she said.

  “Don’t just hope,” Colonel Hanson said, sounding very much like the lifelong Marine he was. “Do it!”

  Carole grinned and saluted. “Yes sir!” she replied. She opened one of the new books and got to work. But after a few minutes she closed it and put it aside. “Nothing in this one, either,” she said glumly. “I wish I had that set of videos now. It might be more help than these books.”

  Colonel Hanson looked at her sympathetically, but the phone rang before he could reply. “Just a sec,” he said, setting down his magazine and getting up to answer. “Carole, it’s for you,” he called a moment later.

  Carole went to the phone, expecting it to be Stevie or Lisa. But instead Polly Giacomin was on the other end of the line. She sounded frantic.

  “Thank goodness you’re there, Carole,” she exclaimed. “I already tried Stevie and Lisa and nobody answered at either of their houses.”

  “What is it, Polly?” Carole asked. “Is it something to do with Romeo?”