Carole felt her face turning bright red. “No, sir,” she muttered. “Sorry.”
As the teacher turned back to the chalkboard to continue his lecture, Carole slumped down into her seat again. But this time she wasn’t the least bit sleepy.
I’m not sure I can take two more whole years of this! she thought desperately.
Lisa Atwood was only a few doors down from Carole, but her thoughts were miles away—in California, to be exact. Maybe I should have stayed out there and lived with Dad after all, she thought, only half jokingly. Then maybe I’d be learning something right now instead of sitting here feeling my brain cells rot from underuse. She was annoyed because her calculus teacher seemed to think that the students were so brain-dead from their summer vacations that he should just let them laze around for the first few days of school instead of getting down to work.
She glanced toward the front of the room, where her teacher, a thin-lipped young man named Mr. Halliday, was pontificating about his five favorite action movies of the past summer. The other students seemed to be enjoying the exercise, calling out their own opinions and cracking jokes.
But Lisa found her mind wandering. She wasn’t really surprised—she had no interest in action movies. But then again, she had found herself having trouble focusing even in the few classes where her teachers had actually started teaching. She guessed she was still adjusting to being home after a summer away.
Most of the time her homecoming felt exactly the way it should—like a return to the people and places and routines she knew and loved, where everything made sense and moved along as it always had. Her trail ride the day before with Carole and Stevie was a perfect example. As they had ridden along the familiar trails behind Pine Hollow, she could almost have closed her eyes and imagined that they were all still as young and carefree as they’d been back in junior high when the three of them had started The Saddle Club and talked about nothing but horses all day long. Then there was Alex. Her reunion with him had been even more wonderful than she had expected. Somehow, being apart had made their bond—and their attraction—stronger than ever. After just a few days back together, Lisa couldn’t imagine how she had ever survived two long months without him. In fact, the two of them had slid so easily back into their relationship that it already felt almost as if the summer separation had never happened.
Still, at other times she found herself taken by surprise at the amount of adjusting she had to do. For one thing, spending two months in a loving, happy home with her father and stepmother and baby half sister, Lily, had dulled Lisa’s memory of what life with her mother had become since the divorce. Mrs. Atwood hadn’t reacted well to the breakup of her marriage. She had always put a lot of energy into maintaining the illusion of a perfect home and a perfect family. Now that her illusion had been shattered, she was having trouble picking up the pieces and moving on. Even after all this time, she spent far too many evenings each week with her therapy group, complaining bitterly about how Mr. Atwood had ruined her life.
As a loving daughter, Lisa had found this very difficult to watch and even more difficult to live with. And nothing had changed with her return from California. Between coddling her mother by pretending to enjoy their marathon trips to the mall—shopping being one of the few activities that still seemed to give Mrs. Atwood any pleasure—and setting the house back in order after two months’ worth of her mother’s listless housekeeping, Lisa was exhausted. She welcomed the routine of school, with its specific and finite assignments.
There was one other adjustment that Lisa had had to make. She’d had to get used to missing her family and friends on the West Coast. Part of her life was there now, and being away was hard. She missed seeing her father every day; she missed the warmth and friendship of her stepmother, Evelyn. Even more, she missed being there to watch Lily grow up.
Still, for every way that it was hard to be back, there were several ways that it was wonderful. One of the most difficult things about spending the summer in California had been leaving her friends and her boyfriend behind. In the few days she had been back, she had been so busy preparing for school that she hadn’t had nearly enough time to hang out with them. That was why she was looking forward so much to the outing planned for Saturday. All of them had enjoyed their end-of-summer trail ride so thoroughly that they hadn’t wanted to let it end, so they were extending the fun with a trail ride and barbecue for all their friends.
Of course, it won’t be the same as it was back in the days when it was just the three of us, Lisa thought a bit wistfully. I mean, I’m glad that Alex will be there, and Phil and A.J., too, but …
Her mind skittered away from the thought before she could finish it. But she couldn’t quite shake the topic of change from her mind. So much had changed this summer. Lisa herself had changed, of course—spending the entire summer in a different state, with different people and a different way of life, could do that to you. And Lisa wasn’t sorry about that, since she was sure those changes had made her a better, more interesting, and more mature person.
But while she’d been changing out in California, things had been changing in Willow Creek as well, and Lisa wasn’t nearly as thrilled about those changes. Some of them she had more or less expected. For instance, Max’s two daughters seemed to have sprouted up almost overnight. That wasn’t so different from Lily, who had grown an incredible amount in the two months Lisa had spent with her. But other changes had taken Lisa by surprise, such as returning to find that Prancer, the Thoroughbred mare she had ridden for years, was now a favorite with a whole new generation of Pine Hollow riders.
I suppose I should have seen that coming, Lisa told herself ruefully. After all, Prancer belongs to Pine Hollow. And it isn’t as if I’ve ever been her only rider, though I always spent so much time with her that it sometimes felt like it.
Still, Lisa felt strange when she realized that others might feel just as proprietary about Prancer these days as she always had.
It’s funny, she thought, tugging absently at her hair. Even now, after a summer apart and all these reminders and everything I still can’t help thinking of Prancer as mine. All mine. She bit her lip. Sort of like my friends …
TWO
“Take it easy, boy,” Carole murmured under her breath. She steadied her hands on the reins, letting Starlight know that she was there to help him. “We’re in no hurry here. Don’t start rushing the fence. You know better than that.”
Starlight seemed to understand. His pace steadied as he approached the low oxer Carole had set up in the middle of Pine Hollow’s main schooling ring. Carole felt her horse’s eagerness and attention as they came within a few strides of the fence.
“Here we go,” she whispered. Her motions practiced and almost automatic, she leaned forward until the top half of her body was at an incline. At the same time, she shifted most of her weight from her seat onto the balls of her feet while keeping her legs close to her horse’s side. A moment later, Starlight was airborne.
He landed lightly, and Carole settled smoothly back into her original position, smiling with pleasure. She signaled for Starlight to stop, then leaned forward to pat him soundly on his shiny neck.
“That was great, boy,” she told him. “Just great.”
She turned Starlight, preparing to leave the ring, and almost lost a stirrup in surprise when she saw Ben Marlow leaning on the gate watching her. How does he do that? she wondered, a little irritably. Sometimes he just appears out of nowhere. It’s creepy!
She knew she wasn’t being fair. The young stable hand’s appearance was hardly a mystery—Carole had been so wrapped up in her work with Starlight that she probably wouldn’t have noticed a comet crashing to earth in the next paddock, let alone a quiet guy like Ben stopping by the ring. But did he always have to stare at her with that solemn, intense expression? Did she always have to find herself wondering exactly what was going on behind those dark, brooding eyes?
She forced herself to smile as she rode to
ward him. “Hi, Ben,” she said, pushing back a springy dark curl that had escaped from under her hard hat. “I haven’t seen you all day.”
He grunted faintly—a sound that often passed for conversation with Ben. But he did open the gate and hold it for her so that she could ride Starlight through. And he reached for Starlight’s bridle and held him steady so that she could dismount.
Once her feet were on the ground again, Carole took hold of the reins and Ben stepped back, seeming a bit uncomfortable. Of course, that’s probably at least partly my fault, Carole thought, her mind wandering back a few weeks to the day when she’d suddenly realized that she knew next to nothing about Ben, even though the two of them had been working together for some time. She didn’t know anything about his family, his past, even where he lived. That had nagged at her for a while, enough that she had impulsively decided to follow him home from the stable one night and put at least one question about him to rest. The plan hadn’t worked out quite the way she’d hoped, though. She had seen Ben’s home, a decrepit little place across town, but he had caught her following him. Carole had realized too late that to an intensely private, rather suspicious soul like Ben, her innocent curiosity had been akin to betrayal. Ever since that night, things hadn’t been quite the same between them. Not that things between us were ever particularly normal, Carole reminded herself. Still, she felt bad about the incident. She had apologized, of course, but that didn’t seem like enough, and she was still trying to figure out how to make it up to him.
“Max wants to see you,” Ben said abruptly, interrupting Carole’s thoughts.
Carole nodded. “Okay. Thanks,” she said automatically.
But she hesitated before heading inside. There was something she wanted to do. Something that might help heal the rift that still lay between her and Ben. Maybe even something that could help Ben lighten up and have some fun. After all the hard work he’s put in around this place lately, he deserves it, she told herself, wrapping Starlight’s reins nervously around one hand and then the other.
That didn’t mean this was going to be easy. Ben had never exactly been a natural conversationalist. And lately he had been more sullen than ever. Carole knew it was at least partly because he had just lost out on a college scholarship he’d been counting on. That didn’t make his prickliness much easier to take, though.
She screwed up her courage and smiled at him tentatively. “Listen,” she began. “I was just wondering … I mean, I thought maybe you … I mean—” She forced herself to stop and take a deep breath before continuing. “What I’m trying to say is, my friends and I are getting together on Saturday for a little picnic.” Suddenly she wondered if calling it a picnic sounded too babyish or dorky. She gulped. “That is, we’re going on a trail ride, and then we’re going to have a sort of barbecue. There’s this clearing in the woods near a deep water hole—well, you’ve ridden in the woods, so you probably know the place, but—” She paused for another breath. “Anyway. What I wanted to know was if you wanted to come along with us. It’s Saturday. Did I say that already?”
Ben was staring at her. His mouth opened, then closed again. His expression was hard to read, as always, but it seemed to be some mixture of confusion, suspicion, and astonishment.
Suddenly Carole started to wonder if what she had said had come out wrong. She hadn’t meant to imply … “A bunch of us are going,” she added quickly, her face burning. She busied herself with removing her hard hat to hide her embarrassment. “Together. All of us, I mean. Stevie and Lisa and, well, Phil and Alex, and Phil’s friend A.J.—I think you’ve met him a couple of times—and Callie, of course, and we invited Scott, but he—”
“Sorry,” Ben interrupted. “Can’t make it.” With that, he spun on his heel and stalked off in the direction of the feed shed, a dark scowl on his face.
Carole stared after him, feeling a little hurt at his blunt reply. “Why do I keep trying with that guy?” she muttered to Starlight, who was munching on a mouthful of weeds he’d snitched from the edge of the ring while she wasn’t paying attention. The horse simply gave her a wise look and continued chewing.
Carole sighed, tucked her hat under one arm, and led the gelding toward the stable door. She should have known that Ben wouldn’t want to come along on Saturday. He had a truly special rapport with horses, but when it came to people, he wasn’t exactly the king of social skills. He made a point of avoiding places where two people or more were gathered—except, sometimes, when those two people were Max and Carole. Even then, he never had much to say. On the other hand, he had come to a barbecue at the Foresters’ house several weeks before and had seemed to enjoy himself. Still, that outing had been an exception.
Maybe I should just accept the simple truth, Carole told herself. I’ll never understand Ben, he’ll never understand me, and that’s that. We should just stick to business and forget about being friends.
She did her best to put the whole subject out of her mind as she and her horse headed down the stable aisle. “And now,” she said out loud, addressing Starlight again, “it’s time to put you in your stall and go see what Max wants.”
“Want a bite?” Alex scooped up some chocolate ice cream and whipped cream with his spoon and held it out.
Lisa leaned across the table and accepted the offering, closing her eyes as the rich chocolate melted on her tongue. “Mmm,” she said with feeling. “This is wonderful.”
“The ice cream?” Alex grinned at her devilishly.
She opened her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. “Very funny,” she said. “You know what I mean. You. Us. Being here together.”
“I know.” Alex leaned forward and gave her a quick, chocolatey kiss. Then he settled back to his ice cream once again. “Believe me, I was missing this all summer while you were gone. In a big way.”
“Me too. I can still hardly believe we were apart for so long.” Lisa took a sip of her vanilla milk shake. “So how was your first day of school?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “You know how it is at good old Fenton Hall. Same old teachers, same old kids …” He shrugged and licked his spoon.
“I always thought going to a private school like Fenton Hall would be kind of neat,” Lisa said. “Those thick stone walls, the old leaded windows on the top floor—it’s pretty romantic-looking, actually.”
Alex shrugged. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “I don’t think it can hold a candle to Willow Creek High in the romance department. After all, how can you call a school romantic when you’re not there?”
“Easily,” Lisa countered with a smile. “I can call it that because you’re there.” She loved this feeling—the comfortable feeling of joking around with her boyfriend, enjoying his company, relaxing completely into their warm, familiar relationship, and knowing that he understood her better than anyone else ever had before—that their love for each other was stronger, deeper, richer than she had ever believed possible. Lisa had always been an honest, caring person. But she had never opened up so completely to anyone before Alex. Not even her best friends, not even her family, knew her the way he did.
Alex grinned and settled back in his seat. “Well, if you’d gone there since kindergarten like I have, you’d realize that romantic-looking doesn’t mean a thing. Fenton Hall is like any other school. It never changes.”
Lisa rested her elbows on the table and looked around her. “Kind of like this place, huh?” They were sitting at their favorite table for two at TD’s, an ice cream parlor in a small strip mall about a mile from Pine Hollow. Lisa and her friends had been going there for ages—it had once been a favorite spot for their Saddle Club meetings, which usually turned into hours-long gab sessions. Now it was a favorite place for Lisa to meet Alex in the afternoons, since it was convenient to their schools and their homes.
“That’s different.” Alex’s gaze wandered over the glossy white walls and brightly colored booths of the small restaurant. “Places like this aren’t supposed to change. Some things you
just want to be able to count on.”
“You can count on one thing for sure,” she said lightly. “We’re going to have fun on Saturday. Right?”
“Definitely.” Alex’s face brightened. “I can’t wait. Out on the trail, in the woods, you and me …”
“And Carole, and Phil, and A.J., and Julianna,” Lisa went on teasingly. “And don’t forget your very own beloved twin sister, Stevie.”
Alex let out a mock groan and covered his eyes with one hand. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “I sometimes think the only thing that isn’t absolutely perfect about you is your taste in friends. Specifically, my crazy sister.”
Lisa grinned, knowing he was kidding. Stevie and Alex had once spent most of their time fighting and playing elaborate practical jokes on each other. So had Stevie and her other brothers, Chad and Michael. But all four of the Lake siblings had matured over the past few years, and by now they had reached the point where they actually enjoyed one another’s company most of the time. Well, except maybe for Michael, Lisa added to herself with a secret smile. He’s only thirteen, and it can’t be easy for him, being the youngest in that wacky family!
“Don’t worry,” she told Alex. “I’m sure Stevie will be too busy hanging out with Phil to bother you. Much, anyway.”
“Well, all I can say is that my darling sister isn’t getting anywhere near the grill if I have anything to say about it,” Alex joked. “The last time Stevie tried to cook a hamburger on my dad’s grill by the pool, the outside ended up totally charred but the inside was still mooing.”
“Stevie has many talents, but cooking has never been one of them,” Lisa admitted. “Don’t worry, though—I’ll be in charge of the grill. We had a bunch of picnics on the beach over the summer, and I learned a few tricks I’ve been dying to show off.”
“Really?” Alex was still smiling, but suddenly his eyes had taken on a slightly wary look, one that Lisa had come to recognize in the few days she’d been home. He hadn’t wanted her to go to California, but she’d thought he understood why she’d had to go. Now he was acting weird about it. “Who taught your?”
Reining In Page 17
