Colonel Hanson blew on his steaming coffee mug as he sat down. “Is that right?” He gave Carole a curious glance. “Well, I guess you have been busy. I hope in between all this training you remembered to go to school.”
“Very funny.” Carole forced a laugh, once again squelching the unwelcome memory of that history test. “School’s fine. Same as always.”
“And how are Lisa and Stevie doing? I haven’t seen either of them in ages.”
“They’re fine.” Carole kept her voice neutral. She didn’t want him to know about her fight with Lisa. She wasn’t quite sure why—she and her father had been very close ever since Carole’s mother had died five years earlier, and she had long made a habit of confiding in him about all sorts of problems. But this fight was different from the silly little arguments she’d had with her friends in the past, and she wasn’t sure her father would understand. He would probably just try to talk her out of being angry with Lisa, to convince her to find a way to reconcile their differences, and Carole wasn’t sure she wanted that. She wasn’t sure she wanted to forgive Lisa so easily for the hurtful things she’d said.
Colonel Hanson shrugged. “Well, that’s good. How about the folks at the stable? That nice young fellow, Ben—I hope he hasn’t given up on his plans for college.”
Carole winced, wishing for a split second that she’d never told her father about all that. Ben had hoped to win a scholarship to enroll in an equine studies program at a local university, but that had fallen through, and he hadn’t mentioned college since.
“I’m not sure, Dad,” she said, remembering Ben’s weird comments about Samson the afternoon before at the stable. What had that been all about? Ben was usually the last person to poke his nose into other people’s business. He was so intensely private that Carole had assumed he respected other people’s privacy as well. So why was he bugging her about Samson all of a sudden? “I guess Ben’s fine. Everybody’s fine.” She forced a laugh. “I mean, you were only gone a week. It’s not like anything very exciting could happen around here in that amount of time.” She glanced at her watch. “I’d better get ready to go, or I’ll be late for school.”
Lisa stared at her copy of The Canterbury Tales, which was lying on the desk in front of her, open to the middle of “The Miller’s Tale.” All around her, her classmates were laughing at something her English teacher had just said. In fact, most of the students had been cracking up throughout the class. But Lisa wasn’t finding the discussion very amusing.
“All right, then.” Ms. Thorpe raised her hands for quiet. “I think we all agree that the carpenter comes out looking quite the fool in this tale. What do you think the other pilgrims would have thought about him after listening to the miller’s story?”
Lisa didn’t pay much attention to her classmates’ responses. They probably thought the carpenter’s wife was a real jerk, she thought glumly. Unlike the other students, Lisa didn’t see much to laugh at in the bawdy tale, despite its references to farting and fondling and other silly things. Once you got past that stuff, and fought your way through all that obtuse Middle English language, it was really just a story of a dishonest, unfaithful wife pulling the wool over the eyes of her innocent, deluded husband. And that particular theme struck straight at Lisa’s conscience these days.
She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, wishing the class would end so that she could stop thinking about this. She already felt guilty enough about not following through on her promise to Stevie. But ignoring the problem wouldn’t make it go away, and she had put off the subject long enough already.
I’ve got to find a way to tell Alex the truth, she thought. But I have to do it so he’ll understand.
She chewed on her lower lip, trying to imagine how she could find the words to explain it to him. It shouldn’t be so difficult—wasn’t his almost uncanny ability to understand her one of the things she loved best about him?
But this confession would be a different kind of test for their relationship, a scary one from Lisa’s point of view because for once she wasn’t sure he would understand. How would I feel if I were him? she wondered, not for the first time. Would I stop loving him if he considered leaving me behind to try new things?
Her heart ached at the very thought. She couldn’t imagine that she would ever stop loving Alex for any reason. She couldn’t imagine her life without his caring, supportive, wonderful presence in it.
Then again, a little voice inside her said, you never could have imagined hating one of your best friends, could you?
Tears sprang to Lisa’s eyes before she could stop them. She quickly lowered her gaze to her book, hoping no one would notice. Luckily, the other students were distracted by a lively discussion that seemed to have something to do with body odor and bathing.
Lisa blinked hard and took a few deep, quiet breaths, trying to get her emotions back under control. She was still angry at Carole—so angry that it sometimes made her hands start to shake involuntarily. But she was also deeply hurt at her friend’s betrayal. How could this have happened? They had always been so close that it was hard to believe they were now so deeply divided.
She rubbed her face wearily, feeling drained. Promise or no promise, any decision—any action—regarding Alex would have to wait. It was just too much to deal with right now when she had so many other things on her mind. First she had to figure out how to come to terms with Prancer’s condition and how to make peace with her own hostile feelings toward Carole. She couldn’t stand the thought of a confrontation with Alex until those issues were out of the way.
Stevie was standing in front of her gym locker rubbing her face with a towel when she heard the familiar soft taps of Callie’s crutches behind her. She tossed the towel into the jumble of clothes and shoes at the bottom of the locker and slammed the metal door shut. Then she turned to smile at Callie.
“Hi,” she said. “What did George want?”
Callie shrugged and lowered herself onto the slatted bench in front of the row of lockers. “Nothing important,” she reported. “He just had a question about our chem assignment.”
Stevie did her best not to smirk and give away her own thoughts. She wasn’t always the most observant person in the world where others’ feelings were concerned, but she had the sneaking suspicion that George Wheeler had developed a little crush on Callie. Callie didn’t seem to have noticed, though, and since Stevie seriously doubted she could ever have any romantic interest in a chubby, nerdy guy like George—no matter how good a rider he was—she didn’t plan to breathe a word.
“Anyway,” she said, sitting down beside Callie on the bench, “I was hoping we’d still be doing those physical fitness tests today so we’d have a chance to talk.” Stevie hadn’t seen Callie since Sheila had left, and she was dying for a full report. She rolled her eyes. “Leave it to Ms. Monroe to decide she’s in the mood for dodgeball.”
Callie laughed. “I don’t know,” she teased. “You seemed to be pretty into it.” She glanced around at the other girls who were busily changing clothes, putting on makeup, and chatting all around them. “Actually, though, I was hoping to talk to you, too.” Her eyes sparkled. “I wanted to thank you again for helping me realize that Sheila and I—that our relationship could be different than it was. I never would have been able to do it without you. I never would have thought to do it without you.”
Stevie smiled back at Callie, pleased. Even the fact that Callie was being so honest and direct about her feelings right then was proof that she was learning to open up more, let herself be vulnerable. “I didn’t do that much,” Stevie protested modestly. “You did all the hard work.”
“It was hard,” Callie admitted. “But most things that are worth anything are hard, and this one was definitely worth it.” She shrugged. “I mean, I’m still not sure Sheila and I will ever be as close as you and Carole and Lisa are, but …”
Stevie didn’t really hear what Callie said right after that. She winced at the mention of her two best
friends. These days, Stevie wasn’t sure that she and Carole and Lisa should be held up as any great example of friendship.
Especially Carole and Lisa, she thought rather sourly. She still couldn’t believe that a relatively minor disagreement—in her opinion, anyway—had blown up into such a huge deal. She never would have expected it, never would have guessed that two people she thought she knew so well would react this way.
She did her best to shrug off the thought, not wanting her other friends’ fight to intrude on her happiness for Callie. Whatever was wrong between Carole and Lisa, it had nothing to do with Callie and Sheila.
Ms. Shepard was waiting in the hall outside her classroom when Carole reached it that afternoon. As soon as she saw the teacher, Carole’s heart started to pound. Part of her had been dreading this moment, fearing that what she had done had all been for nothing, that she had failed the test anyway. But another part was glad it was finally here. Now she would find out her fate, and she could begin putting this whole unpleasant incident behind her.
The teacher smiled when she spotted her. “Oh, there you are, Carole,” she said, holding up something that could only be the test, though it was turned away from her. “I was waiting for you—I didn’t want to keep you in suspense any longer than necessary.”
Carole numbly reached for the paper as her teacher handed it to her. A quick glance was all it took to send relief flooding through her, so strong and sudden that her knees felt weak. At the top of the first page, in bold red ink, was the letter B. She had passed, and then some. Her riding privileges were safe once again.
“Thanks, Ms. Shepard,” she said earnestly. “I really appreciate your letting me retake the test.”
You’ll never know quite how much, she added silently, an image of Samson floating through her mind as she scurried past the teacher into the classroom. As soon as she was inside she stuffed the test into her backpack, way deep down to the bottom, never wanting to look at it again.
“Can you feel them in there yet?” Lisa murmured, running her hand over Prancer’s glossy flank. “I can’t. But you must know you’re going to be a mommy. Don’t you?”
The mare gazed back at her placidly, chewing a mouthful of hay. Her large, liquid eyes held no answers, and Lisa sighed.
She was doing her best to get used to the idea of twin foals growing inside Prancer. That was hard enough, since the mare hadn’t begun to show yet. Even more difficult to accept was the fact that Lisa wasn’t going to be able to ride Prancer for the foreseeable future. She had thought she’d had it tough before, not knowing when the mare would be back in service. But now that she knew the truth, it was almost worse. Now Lisa knew for a fact that she wouldn’t get to ride Prancer for well over a year, if ever.
“It makes the whole idea of riding seem a lot less fun all of a sudden,” she whispered to Prancer, feeling very sorry for herself. “If I can’t ride you, maybe I shouldn’t bother to ride at all anymore. At least not quite so often,” she added quickly. The thought of giving up riding entirely was rather extreme. But maybe it was time to think about doing other things.
Something made her glance toward the stall door at that moment, and she almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Ben Marlow standing outside watching her. “How long have you been standing there?” she snapped, blushing at the thought that he might have overheard her heartfelt whispers to the pregnant horse.
“Not long,” Ben replied. “I was looking for you. Red said he saw you come in.”
Lisa gave Prancer one last pat and moved to the front of the stall, carefully keeping her gaze averted from Ben’s as she let herself out of the stall. The guy made her a little nervous at the best of times—she could never guess what he was thinking behind that brooding expression—and he had startled her badly just now, making her feel rather skittish. “Well, you found me,” she said as calmly as she could. “What’s up?”
Ben shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I thought I should talk to you,” he said hesitantly. “Um, I’ve noticed some things lately. Things about Carole, and I thought you … well …”
Lisa could hardly believe her ears. Since when did loner Ben start getting involved in other people’s personal business? And why had he decided to start with hers? “I see where you’re going with this,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “And it’s none of your business.”
Ben seemed taken aback. “But I just wanted—I know you two—ah, never mind.” He scowled, obviously regretting ever starting this conversation. “See you.” He spun on his heel and stalked off down the aisle.
Lisa stared after him. What on earth was that all about? Normally Ben stays as far away as possible from emotional contact, so why does he suddenly feel the need to interfere now? What makes it any of his business, anyway? Oh, forget it. I can’t start worrying about him, too, she decided. She shook her head and returned her attention to Prancer. Whatever was on Ben’s mind, it obviously had something to do with Carole. And Carole was the last person Lisa felt like thinking about right then.
FOURTEEN
“I love Fridays!” Stevie declared, spreading her arms wide and tipping her face up to the sun. Belle snorted and tossed her head before breaking into a canter and then taking a few skittering steps to the side.
Emily and Callie laughed as Stevie struggled to maintain her balance and gather up her reins once more. “Good thing Max isn’t here right now,” Emily teased, urging Patch, the gentle pinto she was riding, into a trot to keep up. “He’d have a few things to say about your riding position.”
Stevie playfully stuck her tongue out at Emily as Callie, who was riding PC a few yards away, grinned. “Well, Max isn’t here, is he?” Stevie said tartly. She gestured at the peaceful meadow they were crossing to punctuate her point. “Anyway, if you’re not nice to me, I won’t tell you my exciting news. Then you’ll be sorry.”
“She’s sorry, she’s sorry,” Callie said. “Come on, don’t keep us in suspense any longer. What’s your big news?”
Stevie settled back in the saddle, feeling very pleased with herself. The three girls had just set out on a leisurely trail ride—Emily’s idea, since she said getting out on the trail would be the best thing to help get Callie back in the swing of her rehabilitation work now that Sheila had been gone for two days. Stevie suspected that Emily herself was just in the mood for a good trail ride, but either way, she’d been happy to be dragged along. She had planned to do some work on Belle’s extended trot in the indoor ring, but it was another gorgeous Indian-summer day, cold weather would be there before long, and Stevie had never been one to resist an afternoon of fun.
“Okay, since you asked nicely, I’ll tell you,” Stevie said, relenting. “We’re on again!”
“You mean for A.J.?” Emily looked interested. “Go on.”
Stevie had to pause to drag Belle’s nose away from some tasty-looking weeds. The mare was allergic to some plants, so Stevie had to be extra diligent whenever they were out on the trail. A moment later Belle was trotting forward again, and Stevie continued. “Phil set the whole thing up with A.J.’s parents. They’re dragging him to some relative’s eightieth birthday party—there’s no way he’s getting out of that one—and we’re all going to be there waiting for him when they get back.” She grinned proudly, certain that the plan would succeed. “He won’t be able to escape this time. He’ll have no choice but to talk to us.”
Callie pursed her lips. “I don’t know about that,” she said cautiously. “But it does sound promising, I’ll give you that.”
“Definitely.” Emily looked excited. “It’s brilliant, Stevie.”
“You’ll both come, won’t you?”
Callie looked amused. “We might,” she teased. “But only if you tell us when it is.”
“Oops!” Stevie grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that. It’s tomorrow. The party’s in the morning, so we’ll gather around lunchtime.”
“Great!” Callie declared immediately. “Count me in. It’ll be t
he perfect excuse—Scott’s been threatening to drag me to the Willow Creek High football game tomorrow afternoon.”
Emily was frowning. “I can’t make it,” she said, sounding disappointed. “My folks are taking me out to lunch in D.C. I’m not sure what the big occasion is, but they’ve been really insistent about it, so I don’t think they’re going to want to reschedule. I can ask, but you probably shouldn’t count on me.”
Stevie frowned. She had been counting on Emily. She’d been counting on everyone coming and doing their part to help get through to A.J. But then she shrugged. It couldn’t be helped.
“Okay. We’ll miss you,” she told Emily. “But we’ll let you know how it goes.” She gathered her reins and clucked to Belle. “Now come on. Last one to the woods is a rotten egg!”
The next day, Phil was waiting at the edge of the road when Stevie and Alex arrived to pick him up. Stevie eased the car to a stop and kept the engine idling.
“Hi,” Phil said, leaning through the open window to give her a quick kiss. Then he hurried around to the passenger side, where Alex hopped out to let him into the backseat of the two-door car.
As soon as both guys were safely inside, Stevie gunned the motor. She was eager to get to A.J.’s house and get this intervention started.
Alex cast her a dubious glance. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive the rest of the way?”
Stevie ignored him. He’d been complaining about her driving throughout the twenty-minute ride from Willow Creek. “Is everything set?” she asked Phil.
“Pretty much,” he replied. “I spoke to Mr. McDonnell this morning before they left. After the party, they’re going to take Elizabeth shopping over in Berryville. That way they can drop A.J. off at home, and we’ll have him all to ourselves for an hour or two.”
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