Dream Horse (6 page)

“Don’t kid yourself,” said Lisa. “That’s as much a dad thing as it is a Marine thing. The last time I asked for a raise in my allowance, my dad started talking about budgets and doing financial projections on a computer. How much projecting can I do with the tiny allowance I get? But all is not lost. I happen to know my mother bought some vanilla ice cream when she went shopping, and we’ll have a choice of chocolate or maple syrups. Okay?”

“Sounds perfect!” Carole said. “And the price is right!”

Fifteen minutes later they’d made their decisions. Carole was having a maple sundae. Lisa’s was chocolate. They’d found some peanuts and chopped them up to put on top of the sauces. There was no whipped cream and there were no maraschino cherries. The girls didn’t mind. They thought their concoctions were almost as good as what they’d have at TD’s—if they could afford it.

Lisa took a drippy, gooey bite from her sundae, and when she’d swallowed, she spoke. “As long as we’re eating sundaes after a riding class, then I think this is a Saddle Club meeting, even without Stevie,” she said.

Carole agreed by nodding in the middle of her first bite.

“So then we have to talk about Stevie and her too-weird dreams.”

“Right, like what was all that stuff about a sign—”

“Point and Laugh,” Lisa reminded her.

“On a rider?” Carole asked. It was a question because it didn’t make sense. Why would anyone want to laugh at someone who was riding a horse? Riding took concentration and skill. If somebody was pointing and laughing—“Oh!” she said.

“What’s the matter?” asked Lisa.

“The sign!” Carole said. “It’s for Veronica!”

“Right, like we could get her to point and … oh, no, that’s not it, is it?” Lisa said.

“The sign isn’t for her to read. It’s for her to wear,” said Carole.

“How are we going to get her to wear a sign?” asked Lisa.

“We could sort of attach it with tape?”

Lisa frowned and took another bite of her sundae. It seemed that she and Carole had been given a Stevian scheme. It was now her job, as the logical thinker, to figure out how to make it work.

She began to think out loud. “We can’t have it be anything she sees coming, and it can’t be anything she feels on her.”

“That eliminates paper, which crinkles, and cardboard, which would bounce around.”

“Cloth.”

“Right, cloth,” Carole agreed.

“And I think I know just exactly how to do this. Are you done with your sundae?”

“I am if you’re ready to wreak revenge on Veronica,” Carole announced.

The girls put their bowls in the Atwoods’ dishwasher and hurried to Lisa’s room.

“I have all this felt and stuff left over from craft projects,” Lisa began.

Carole smiled. She had the two best friends in the world. Together, they could accomplish anything—even if it took a bonk on the head of one of them to come up with the core of a most devilish revenge scheme!

V
ERONICA SAUNTERED INTO
the locker room on Thursday morning. Class would begin in ten minutes. All of the other students had arrived a half hour earlier to change their clothes and tack up their horses. Veronica didn’t worry about anything as boring as tacking up her horse. That was what stable hands were for. All she had to do was change into her riding clothes.

“Hi, Veronica,” Carole greeted her.

“Oh, hello,” Veronica said coolly. She never could understand those Saddle Club girls. Most of the time they were rude to her, but every once in a while they would behave nicely. Veronica supposed it was for the obvious reason. They were rude because they were jealous, and they were nice because they were hoping to get in good with her so that some of her taste would rub off on them. She smiled at Carole, knowing that her greeting was going to be the brightest part in poor Carole’s otherwise dull day.

“New clothes?” Lisa asked, looking at the zippered bag that Veronica carried.

“Yes,” said Veronica. “Mother thought my old ones were getting tattered.”
Of course Lisa must have noticed that
, Veronica thought. She was probably wondering what happened with Veronica’s old clothes. She probably wished Veronica would offer them to her. Veronica knew that her castoffs were actually in better condition than the riding habits Lisa usually wore. And as for Stevie—well, the less said about her outfits the better. Although Veronica had no intention of donating her old clothes to Lisa, it wouldn’t hurt to give the girl a few pointers.

“We got these at The Saddlery,” said Veronica. “You know, they’ll put anything out on the rack there, but if you ask, the tailor can make you really first-rate clothes.
I used to think we had to go shopping in the city to get quality. But we actually do almost as well with the custom-made things at The Saddlery. I’m sure they could do something for you.”

“Oh, wow,” said Lisa. “Do you think so? Would they actually be able to make something as nice for me as they do for you?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Veronica.

“Well, please do show me your new clothes,” Lisa said eagerly. “I’m always fascinated with the outfits you wear. Such style, such taste, such colors!”

Lisa sounded almost breathless with excitement. Veronica was pleased. The fact was she’d often thought that Lisa seemed to have pretty good taste in clothes, so it didn’t surprise her to find that Lisa had, apparently, been modeling her own wardrobe after Veronica’s.

It only took Veronica a minute to pull on her new, soft riding pants. They were an elegant doeskin brown with leather patches inside the knees. They fit her legs sleekly and flattered her figure. Veronica showed Lisa that the skills of the little old tailor at The Saddlery were really quite adequate.

“I’ve got to say I’m impressed,” Lisa remarked. “Can I see your new jacket, too?”

Veronica slipped it on. It annoyed her that she had on an old shirt—something she’d already worn twice.
When she got into new clothes, she liked to be in new clothes from the skin out. Still, the shirt was good quality, and the jacket’s tailoring complemented it and the new breeches perfectly.

“Ohhhh,” said Lisa. “The lines! The seams! The fabric!”

Veronica didn’t even try to hide her pleasure at Lisa’s compliments. “I’m sure that if you tell your mother how good this old man is, she’d consider having him whip one of these up for you, too,” she said.

“I don’t know, but I sure am going to ask her!” Lisa said. “Now let me see it from the rear. The rear is always so important. It’s the impression you leave people with, you know?”

“Yes, I know,” said Veronica. She turned.

“Oh, wow,” said Lisa. “It’s … it’s—uh-oh.”

“What?” asked Veronica.

“Oh, nothing,” said Lisa.

“You saw something. What’s wrong?” Veronica asked.

“Well, I think he left a—here, let me see. Move back here into the light.” Veronica stepped back. “Oh, it’s just a thread or something. I think I can get it. Stand still.”

“I didn’t see anything when I picked it up,” Veronica said. “I tried it on, of course.”

“Of course,” said Lisa. “I think I have it …”

Veronica felt a tug, then some pressure. “What is it?”

“I’ve got it,” said Lisa. “All done. It was just a thread. It made ever so slight a wrinkle in the jacket. Here, let me smooth it for you.”

She passed her hands across Veronica’s shoulders several times, smoothing out the wrinkles. Veronica was steaming. How could that careless old man at that second-rate tack shop have the gall to leave a thread on her jacket?

“Oh, Veronica, it’s just perfect!” Lisa said.

“You think so?”

“Well, it is now,” Lisa said. “And don’t worry about that. It was just a tiny thread. It could have happened to anybody.”

But it shouldn’t have happened to me
, Veronica thought. She’d have a word with that stupid old man next time she went to The Saddlery. The thought made her happy. Perhaps it was time to go see if that lazy stable hand had tacked up Danny.

“Oh, Red, are you finished yet?” she called loudly as she strutted out of the locker area, perfectly dressed—at least as far as Lisa and Carole were concerned. They could barely contain their giggles until Veronica was out of earshot.

“You were perfect!” Carole said, hugging her friend. “An Oscar-winning performance! ‘Ooooh, Veronica!’ ” she mimicked. “ ‘The lines, the seams, the fabric!’ ”

“And she actually believed me!” Lisa preened.

“Of course she did,” said Carole. “That girl’s outsized ego needs constant feeding. She believes every compliment, no matter how outrageous.”

“Well, let’s see how she likes being the center of attention today,” Lisa said.

The girls followed Veronica’s route out of the locker area and went to get their own horses, tacked up by their own hands.

The first snort of laughter came from Meg Durham. The second came from Betsy Cavanaugh.

“Hey, look!” Lorraine Olson said, pointing at Veronica. Then she started laughing, too.

Carole looked over the top of Starlight’s stall. There was Veronica, standing next to Danny, ready to mount her Thoroughbred. She was dressed in shiny black leather boots, doeskin-colored riding pants, a simple but elegant shirt, and a perfectly tailored black broadcloth jacket. To complete the outfit, she had a white band of cotton across her back with black lettering that read Point and Laugh.

Everybody at Pine Hollow seemed only too willing to accommodate the request.

Veronica looked annoyed and upset.

“Just
what
is so funny,” she asked, stamping a foot. “Can someone please let me in on the joke?”

That only made everyone laugh harder. Finally a red-faced Veronica yanked on Danny’s reins and stalked out of the barn, with the horse walking behind her.

Lisa and Carole exchanged high fives over the wall between their horses’ stalls.

“Who says we can’t pull off a great practical joke when Stevie’s not here?” Lisa asked.

Carole just grinned.

C
AROLE AND
L
ISA
were still beaming with pride at their accomplishment when Deborah told them it was time to leave for Rock Ridge.

“What are you two grinning about?” Deborah asked them as she pulled out of Pine Hollow’s driveway.

“Oh, just a minor victory in defense of a defenseless friend,” Lisa answered. She was trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“Does this have anything to do with what Max was trying to tell me about in the tack room before we left?” Deborah asked.

“Max? Why, what was he saying?” Carole asked.

“He wasn’t saying much,” said Deborah. “He was
trying
to tell me something, but he was laughing too hard to explain what it was.”

Carole and Lisa exchanged glances. Max hadn’t given the slightest indication that he’d even noticed the sign on Veronica’s back. He’d ignored it so completely that they’d thought perhaps he actually hadn’t seen it.

“Maybe he did see it,” said Carole.

“But probably not,” Lisa said. “It’s just that, well …” She and Carole looked at one another, and then they couldn’t keep from laughing, just one more time.

“I know that laugh,” Deborah said with certainty. “It’s exactly the same laugh Max couldn’t hold in. I guess I’ll just have to ask him about it later, huh?”

“Good idea,” Lisa said. “For now, maybe I should try practicing my part,
Mom
.”

“That sounds even stranger to me than it must to you,” Deborah said.

“It sure does, Mom,” Lisa said. It didn’t sound any better the second time. “Say, Mom, would you buy me a horse, please, please, please?”

“Much better,” Deborah said. “Now you sound authentic.”

Lisa thought it would be a good idea to call Deborah Mom all the way to Rock Ridge. At the same time,
Carole practiced calling her Mrs. Hale. She’d never called her anything but Deborah before, but they’d all decided Mrs. Hale sounded more authentic.

“Oh, look, Mrs. Hale,” said Carole, trying out her role, “isn’t that Dunstable Field? That’s where Phil Marsten’s uncle Michael keeps his glider.”

“Oh, really? I guess it is a small world, because I happen to know that that’s where Veronica’s father keeps the bank’s airplane.”

“The bank has an
airplane
?” Lisa said. Then, to be safe, she added, “Mom?”

“Yes, it does. I learned that when I was doing some research on local companies and the perks that their top executives get. Mr. diAngelo claims that he keeps the plane for company business, and every time he has a business trip, he does use it. But he also uses it when he goes to play golf or if he and Mrs. diAngelo want to go to New York for the weekend. He’s very careful, though. When he goes to play golf, he goes with customers. When he and Mrs. diAngelo go to New York, he does business there. It’s not unethical, exactly.”

“Funny that Veronica never mentioned it to us, Mrs. Hale,” Carole said. “She rarely misses an opportunity to boast about something.”

“I guess she doesn’t get to ride in it much,” said Deborah.

Carole realized that was true. She remembered the time Mr. and Mrs. diAngelo had gone for a long golfing trip over Thanksgiving and had left Veronica to celebrate the holiday with the servants. Perhaps Veronica didn’t talk about the plane because she resented the fact that she couldn’t take advantage of it.