Of course, Carole had been pretty angry herself at the time. Lisa had really jumped to conclusions about Carole’s intentions, and Carole still didn’t think she’d been fair. In fact, her reaction had been downright shocking—she was so even-tempered most of the time that when she really lost it she could be pretty scary, as Stevie had put it.
Still, Carole knew better than anyone that horse love could make people do crazy things. And Lisa was definitely crazy about Prancer. She had been in deep horse love practically from the moment she’d first laid eyes on the elegant Thoroughbred mare.
And now Prancer was going to be hers.… Carole still felt a warm glow when she remembered breaking the good news to Lisa the day before. Lisa hadn’t really believed her at first, but after countless assurances from Carole that it was the truth, she had been thrilled.
In Carole’s opinion, it was long past time that Lisa had her own horse. She couldn’t help noticing that Lisa was spending less time at the stable these days. Carole hated the thought that Lisa might be getting too distracted by other things to remember how much she loved riding. Owning a wonderful horse like Prancer would be just the thing to renew her enthusiasm.
She didn’t tell Stevie what she was thinking, though. As much as she would have liked to share her excitement about Lisa’s wonderful new secret, she thought it should be Lisa’s place to break the news. Besides, Stevie wasn’t like Lisa—she wouldn’t be hurt when she found out that Carole and Lisa had known something she didn’t. She would be too busy being excited for Lisa. That was the kind of person she was. She rarely looked on the dark side of things when she had the chance of seeing the bright side.
That reminded Carole of A.J. She had to admit that she hadn’t paid much attention to his problems until a few days ago. Even then she had been a little distracted by her fight with Lisa, her plans for Samson’s training, and other things.… Like that stupid test, for one, she thought before she could stop herself.
She bit her lip, wishing there were a switch in her mind she could use to turn off her thoughts on that particular subject. The week before, Carole had peeked at her textbook during a makeup history test. She still couldn’t even think of the blunt, ugly word for what she’d done—cheated—without cringing. She had vowed to put the whole incident behind her, but that wasn’t proving to be easy. Thoughts of the test kept popping up at odd times—when she was in the shower, while she was picking out the hooves of her horse, Starlight, and of course every time she walked into history class—and she couldn’t do anything to stop them.
To distract herself now, she forced her thoughts back to A.J. “So what’s the latest on the A.J. front?” she asked Stevie.
Stevie glanced at her and rolled her eyes. “Who knows?” she said glumly. “The other day was such a disaster, we’re not quite sure what to try next.”
Stevie sighed as she thought back to the events of Saturday. She and Phil had had such high hopes—they had arranged with A.J.’s parents to have the house to themselves, had gathered most of A.J.’s closest friends—but in the end it hadn’t done any good at all. Finally they hadn’t had much choice but to give up and leave without any new answers or breakthroughs.
That conclusion hadn’t been to Stevie’s liking at all. She hated having to sit back helplessly, waiting and wondering, without any way of making things better. She had thought and thought about A.J.’s weird behavior so much for the past few weeks that it sometimes felt as though her thoughts were running on some kind of endlessly repeating loop. At the moment, even hearing his name made her feel weary. She decided it was time to change the subject. Fortunately, she knew an easy way to do that. “So anyway, Carole,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s Samson’s training going?”
Carole’s whole face lit up. “He’s great!” she said eagerly. “Today we did some jumping in circles to test his suppleness, and then we practiced his downward transitions for a while, and then we …”
Stevie’s mind drifted as her friend launched into a detailed description of the technical aspects of Samson’s latest training session. Max had asked Carole to take on the big black gelding’s training as a special project, and Carole had taken to it the way a horse takes to hay. Samson had been born at Pine Hollow, and Stevie still remembered how brokenhearted Carole had been when Max had sold him a couple of years earlier. The spirited horse had always been special to Carole because she had loved his sire, who’d been killed in a tragic accident long ago, and so it had been harder for her than for anyone to see Samson go. Now that he was back, she really seemed to be trying to make up for lost time. She rarely let an hour pass these days without mentioning her favorite new pupil at least sixty-five times.
Stevie listened patiently to Carole’s chattering about transitions and pacing and cavalletti for a few minutes. Finally, when Carole paused for a breath, Stevie broke in. “Sounds great,” she said with a grin. “I just hope all this fancy training stuff isn’t going to your head. You might get too big for your breeches and think you’re too good to muck out stalls with the rest of us peons.”
Carole giggled. “That reminds me. My pitchfork awaits. I should get back to work soon.”
“But you just got here,” Stevie protested. “Come on. Max won’t fire you if you relax for an extra two seconds and talk to me. And I was just kidding about mucking out. Really.”
“It’s not that.” Carole flicked at a horsefly that had just landed on the fence in front of her. “I really do have a lot to do today; and Dad’s already complaining that he’s barely seen me since he got back the other night.”
Stevie nodded, remembering that Carole’s father, a retired Marine colonel, had recently returned from a weeklong business trip. Colonel Hanson was one of Stevie’s favorite people, and she couldn’t blame Carole for wanting to hurry home to spend time with him. “Still,” she said, “you know what they always say about all work and no play.”
Carole grinned. “You’re a bad influence,” she teased, picking at a hangnail as she spoke. “But seriously, I just came out here to take a five-minute break after I finished grooming Samson. Our training session today went so well that I thought I deserved a little rest before I tackled Starlight’s grooming and the rest of my chores for the day.”
Stevie opened her mouth to tease Carole about her phrasing—since when had grooming her beloved Starlight become a “chore”?—but before she could speak she heard footsteps on the packed dirt path leading to the ring. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw George Wheeler approaching.
George’s family had moved to Willow Creek the year before from downstate. He was in Stevie’s grade at Fenton Hall and a regular rider at Pine Hollow, but she didn’t know him very well in spite of all that. What she did know was that he was a fantastic rider, though he hardly looked like one. He looked more like a moon-faced eighth-grade tuba player than the accomplished eventer he actually was. Together with his horse, a polished, agile Trakehner mare, he had won countless ribbons at shows all over the region.
“Hey, George,” Carole said, briefly glancing at the new arrival before returning her attention to her hangnail.
“Hi.” George greeted Stevie and Carole politely in his soft, slightly high-pitched voice. “How’s it going?”
Stevie couldn’t help grinning. Fortunately George didn’t notice—in fact, that was what Stevie was grinning about in the first place. The short, stocky boy’s gaze was trained on the action in the ring.
“Not bad,” she answered. “We were just watching Callie’s session. She’s really doing well, don’t you think?” She was careful to keep her voice neutral, not wanting George to guess that she was on to him. She had noticed a week or two ago how often George seemed to turn up when Callie was around.
“She’s incredible,” George replied. His deep-set gray eyes darted toward Stevie and Carole. “I mean, she’s been so brave about—you know, the accident and everything. You know.”
Stevie swung her boots against the fence post. “Sure,”
she said agreeably. It’s really too bad, she thought as George’s attention focused on Callie once again. Callie’s not a shallow person or anything, but I really can’t see her going for someone like George. Although you never know about some people’s taste.…
When she turned to glance appraisingly at Callie, she saw that the therapeutic riding session seemed to be winding down. Callie and Emily were riding slowly toward the gate. Callie’s pretty face was flushed pink with exertion, and she looked pleased as she chatted with Emily. Emily wasn’t saying much in response for a change, but Stevie didn’t think much about that. She was too glad to see that Callie looked happier and more relaxed than she had since that horrible newspaper article had appeared three days earlier. Stevie hadn’t known Callie long, but she knew her well enough to know that it would take longer than a few days for the sensitive girl to get over her old friend’s betrayal. But at least she didn’t seem to be dwelling on it.
Soon the two riders reached the others. “Nice job out there today, Callie,” Carole called out encouragingly.
Callie smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I must have woken up on the right side of the bed this morning. First I get an A on my chem lab, thanks to my brilliant lab partner, George”—she tossed a brief, grateful smile at George, who was still standing beside Stevie at the fence—“and now I have the best session in weeks. That one, of course, is thanks in large part to Emily.”
“It pays to have friends in the right places,” Stevie joked. “Especially when those places are all on horseback.”
Callie, Carole, and George chuckled. But Stevie noticed that Emily was frowning. It was an unusual expression for her—she always seemed to be smiling or laughing or just generally looking happy. At the moment, however, her face looked as taut and anxious as Stevie had ever seen it.
“Are you okay?” Stevie asked, suddenly concerned.
“Listen, Callie,” Emily said abruptly, not bothering to respond to Stevie’s question. “We’ve got to talk. Privately.”
Callie looked surprised. “Okay,” she said. “Come on, let’s take the horses in.” She cast a confused glance at Stevie and the others and shrugged slightly.
Emily was usually one of the most forthright, friendly, and outgoing people Stevie knew. It wasn’t like her to demand secret meetings with people. She watched curiously as the two girls dismounted carefully, gathered up their crutches from where they had left them near the mounting block, and headed inside with the horses in tow.
“What do you suppose that was all about?” Carole asked after they had gone.
George looked worried. “I hope it isn’t, you know, bad news for Callie.”
Stevie would have laughed if she hadn’t been so busy wondering about Emily’s odd behavior. George has it bad, all right, she thought absently. No doubt about it.
As she gazed at the stable doors, another figure appeared. It was Ben Marlow, Pine Hollow’s youngest full-time stable hand. Stevie wished she could like Ben more, especially since she could tell that Carole liked him a whole lot more than she was willing to admit. But Ben rarely expended much effort to make himself likeable as far as Stevie could tell, at least not as far as mere human beings were concerned. He was much more interested in horses than in people, and he didn’t bother to hide it.
Ben was hurrying toward them. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said in his usual brusque manner.
“Me?” Carole stepped forward.
“All of you,” Ben replied, his dark eyes flicking from Carole to Stevie and George. “The three of you. Max wants to see you all in his office right away.”
“Why?” Stevie asked.
Ben shrugged. “I’m just the messenger,” he muttered. “But it’s important. So come on.”
Stevie gave a perplexed glance to Carole, who shrugged. Then she glanced at George, who looked just as clueless as she felt.
“Come on,” Carole said, sounding a bit worried as she turned to follow Ben, who was already striding back toward the stable. “We’d better go see what this is about. You know how Max hates it when we keep him waiting.”
THREE
“Intangible, intractable,” Alex muttered. “Why does English have to have so many words that sound so much alike? I wish I’d been born speaking some other language. Taking the PSATs in Russian or Swahili or—or Icelandic would probably be a lot easier.”
Lisa glanced up from her physics lab notebook and chuckled sympathetically. As much as she loved Alex, she would be the first to admit that he didn’t exactly have a long attention span when it came to schoolwork. “I don’t know about that,” she joked. “If you were taking the test in Iceland, you’d probably have to keep stopping to chip the icicles off your pencil.”
She started to return her attention to her own work, but before she could put pen to paper, Alex reached across the table and took her hand. “Maybe we should take a break,” he suggested, stroking her palm gently with his thumb. “Go for a walk, maybe get a bite to eat or something.”
Lisa sat back in her chair and stretched, taking a deep breath of the warm, musty, faintly leather-and-mothball-scented air. The Willow Creek Public Library had always been one of Lisa’s favorite places to study. Its dusty collection of books wasn’t exactly exhaustive, but its dim, oak-paneled reading room and creaky wooden furniture had a charm that was missing from the public high school’s gleaming modern facility. As a little girl she had imagined the public library to be the kind of place where an old-fashioned princess or sorcerer might have sat reading far into the night. Now it just felt cozy and comfortable and homey, especially when Alex was sitting across the scarred old table from her.
Obviously the room had failed to work its magic on Alex. He looked decidedly restless, and when he got that way, it was next to impossible to get him to focus. “But we just got here,” she protested. “And you need to work. The PSATs are coming up a week from Saturday. That doesn’t give you much more time to study.” She glanced at her physics notebook and swallowed a sigh. “I’ll quiz you on the vocab if you want.”
“No good.” Alex grinned and pointed to the sign above the checkout desk nearby. SILENCE IS GOLDEN, it read. “But you could quiz me if we were taking a walk outside.” He gazed at her with that hopeful puppy-dog look he always got when he really wanted something from her.
It was a look she was never able to refuse. “Well …” She glanced at her watch. “All right. But just for a few minutes, okay? I really need to get this physics lab written up tonight.”
Alex was already gathering up his books and stuffing them into his well-worn leather backpack. “Deal,” he promised. “Now come on. This will do you as much good as it will me.”
As soon as she stepped through the library door into the crisp, clear autumn afternoon, Lisa decided he was right. It was one of those perfect days when the air was balanced between the cool, clean feeling of fall and the lingering, insistent warmth of the long Virginia summer. Lisa tipped her head back for a moment and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face and the slight breeze in her hair.
Alex’s quick kiss brought her eyes flying open again. “Hey,” she said with a giggle. “No fair. You sneaked up on me.”
“Guilty as charged.” Alex did his best to look contrite. “I’d better make it up to you. How’s this?” Before she could protest, he grabbed her around the waist and planted another kiss on her lips.
She pushed away after a moment, laughing. One of the many things she loved about Alex was the way the two of them could goof around like this, just being silly and carefree. It was that endearingly playful side of his personality that had helped her overcome her sad and angry feelings after her parents had split up—that, along with his more serious side, the side that had listened and understood and cared.
The two of them set off down the street hand in hand, wandering aimlessly past the old-fashioned storefronts and small office buildings that surrounded the library. Despite her protests, Lisa wasn’t really worried about their interru
pted studies. Her physics lab report wasn’t due until Wednesday, and Alex was in pretty good shape for the PSATs, thanks to a prep course he’d taken over the summer. Besides, she was still feeling good about her mother’s improved state of mind. That morning at breakfast Mrs. Atwood had been just as cheerful as the day before. She had even risen early to make pancakes for Lisa before school—something she hadn’t done, as far as Lisa could recall, since before Mr. Atwood had moved out.
Maybe Mom’s finally turned the corner, she thought hopefully. Maybe she’s finally coming out of her funk once and for all—getting on with her life without Dad, accepting that things have changed and just dealing with it. She felt her heart lift slightly at the thought, and she sighed happily as she imagined once again having a mother who could take care of herself, who didn’t spend most of her days sunk in her own feelings of bitterness and despair.
“What?” Alex glanced down at her, swinging their arms slightly back and forth as they crossed a tiny side street. “What are you thinking about?”
Lisa told him, describing her mother’s pleasant new mood—new dress, pancakes, and all. “I just hope it lasts,” she added. “Maybe those gripe, er, group therapy sessions really have been doing her some good after all.”
“I hope so.” Alex kicked at a stone on the sidewalk. “So when do I get to see that hot new dress she bought you?”
“When you take me out someplace nice,” Lisa countered with a grin. “Maybe we should go have some fancy dinner in the city to celebrate the great news about Prancer.” The night before on the phone, after swearing him to absolute secrecy, Lisa had told Alex what Carole had confided in her. She knew Carole wouldn’t really mind—Lisa just had to share the news with someone or she was afraid she might burst. After all these years, it was hard to believe that she was finally getting a horse of her own, and that that horse was going to be Prancer.…
Of course first they all had to survive this pregnancy, and Lisa was suspecting she might have more trouble with that than Prancer herself. Twins were quite unusual in horses, and both foals rarely survived, though so far Prancer was still successfully carrying both of hers. Still, at least Lisa now knew that once the mare finally foaled, she would have more to look forward to than watching her baby or babies grow up. She would also be able to look forward to riding and caring for her for the rest of the mare’s life.
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