Horse Whispers (9 page)

“Oh, what are these? Free samples?” Stevie asked loudly, looking at the tray as if she’d just noticed it.

“Yes, help yourself,” the woman said. Stevie nabbed a brownie piece and a petit four. The petit four tasted disgusting. Stevie felt gypped—and entitled to another sample.
The woman’s back was turned. Stevie shoved a minimuffin into her mouth. The woman turned around.

“Would you mind if I had a second sample? They’re so good,” Stevie said, her mouth full.

The woman gave Stevie an odd look. “Please go ahead,” she said, staring at the muffin crumbs on Stevie’s chin.

“Thanks, I will.” Stevie took the last remaining brownie piece. She deliberated for a moment. “You know, I ought to get one for the road, too!”

Before the woman could protest, Stevie had grabbed the bakery box off the counter and another half cookie. “Thanks again!” she called, sprinting toward frozen foods.

She ran smack-dab into Lisa.

“Mission accomplished. Four eclairs, two brownies, two blondies, and assorted Italian cookies.”

Lisa grinned. “Is that what you ate or what you bought?” she asked.

“Who, me?” Stevie said innocently.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s go find the spices.”

“What do we need?” Stevie asked when they were standing in front of the display.

“You’re not going to believe this, but we need all of them.”

“All of them?” Stevie demanded. “Are you sure?”

“Look. It says ‘all spice.’ Do you think Phyllis wants to update her spice rack?”

Stevie shrugged. “Could be. But I think it’s strange. In fact, the whole list is weird.”

Lisa agreed. “It is weird. Maybe she didn’t want to explain things to us because, I don’t know, she thought we’d be offended.”

“Boy, I sure wouldn’t have been,” Stevie said. “The more explanation, the better. But you’re probably right.”

“I just can’t see us getting one of
every
spice,” Lisa said worriedly.

“Yeah. Let’s just get the most common ones, like cinnamon and nutmeg.”

Lisa smiled with relief. “That’s a great idea.”

A few minutes later they were done. Lisa glanced at her watch. “Ohmigosh! We only have five minutes to meet Kate and John!” she exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost finished.” Stevie grabbed the list. “I’ll go get the chicken, you get the crushed tomatoes, and I’ll meet you in line.”

The two of them split up and dashed to their respective sections. Lisa couldn’t find any truly crushed tomatoes, but she got the most bruised ones available. Phyllis hadn’t indicated what kind of chicken, so Stevie got her favorite: breaded chicken patties. They were back in the checkout line in minutes.

“Are you sure we got everything?” Lisa asked. She took the list back and mentally checked off their purchases. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a look of horror dawn on Stevie’s face. “What? What is it?”

Stevie pointed wordlessly to the list.

“I know,” Lisa said. “I’m checking to make sure—”

Stevie was shaking her head, still pointing. All at once, Lisa got her meaning. She turned the list over. There were at least another fifteen items on the back. Lisa groaned. Stevie beat her hand against her forehead. A couple of shoppers turned around to look at them. They didn’t care. Together they grabbed the cart—and ran.

C
AROLE WOKE UP
to the midday sun streaming through the bunkhouse window. She yawned and shifted groggily in her bed. Then she sat bolt upright. The clock on the wall said half past twelve! She had slept nearly fifteen hours! That meant that nobody had been there in the morning to let the black mare out of her stall or greet her or tell her it was going to be all right. Not wanting to lose another minute, Carole thrust the wool blankets back and slipped out of her sleeping bag.

As she brushed her teeth, Carole realized she was being a little unfair.
Somebody
would have greeted the mare and fed her and turned her out—whether it was John or Walter
or Mick or one of the other wranglers of The Saddle Club or Frank himself. But Carole was sure the black mare would be afraid until she saw the only human she trusted. “I’m coming, girl,” she said aloud. “Don’t worry, I’m coming.”

On the way to the barn, Carole saw Phyllis heading to the main house. She put up a hand but didn’t stop. Phyllis, however, had other ideas. “You’ve got to eat something, Carole,” she insisted. “After yesterday’s ride? Absolutely, positively, no ifs, ands, or buts. Come on in the house. I’ll fix you some brunch.”

Carole wavered. She really had no choice but to do as Phyllis said. She noticed that Phyllis’s voice sounded odd.

“I think I’m coming down with something,” Phyllis admitted when Carole asked her about it in the kitchen. “Nothing big, just a winter cold. You be careful yourself or you’ll get it, too.”

“Can I do anything?” Carole asked.

Phyllis thought for a minute. “Would you mind running up to the attic and grabbing the hot-water bottle? I think I’ll fill it and take a nap.”

Anxiously Carole went to do the errand. She wanted to get out to the barn as soon as possible. But of course, anything she could do for Phyllis, she would. Up in the attic, it was hard to see. She couldn’t find the light switch, and it took her several minutes to locate the bottle.

“Thanks a million,” said Phyllis when she returned. “Now, here, eat your cereal and toast.”

Sick with worry, Carole gulped down a bowl of oatmeal and a piece of toast. She was about to excuse herself when she heard the gang clattering in.

“Oh, good,” Phyllis said. “Everybody’s back from town. They’ll keep you company. Gang! Carole’s up and she’s in here!”

As Phyllis left, explaining that she needed a nap, Stevie, Lisa, John, and Kate trooped in, carrying grocery bags. “Hey, Carole, you wanna help us unload?” Kate asked.

“I— Yeah, sure,” said Carole.

“Great. And then we’re going to make hot chocolate. We’re freezing!”

Carole ran out to the pickup truck. She gathered a bundle of groceries in her arms. She looked toward the barn. She had to get out there!

“Anything wrong, Carole?” Lisa inquired, coming out to take a final load.

“What? Oh. No! Of course not,” Carole replied. “I’m just taking in the scene. It’s so beautiful.” With that she averted her eyes and hurried into the house.

Lisa paused a moment to look, too. The Bar None was a glorious sight year-round. In winter it was starker. The ground was covered in snow and the mountains looked more forbidding. When it got dark—at five in the afternoon—and the coyotes started to howl, the vastness of
the landscape was almost frightening. If a person ever stayed out there at night … Lisa shivered a little, thinking about it. For someone like John Brightstar, who had grown up out here, this territory was home. But Lisa knew in her heart that she would always feel more comfortable in suburban Willow Creek.

“Hurry up with that bag!” Kate called. “We’ve got the milk on for hot chocolate!”

“The milk?” Lisa asked, entering the kitchen a moment later. “I thought you used water for hot chocolate.”

“That’s the instant kind. But Christine’s mom showed me how to make the real stuff, from cocoa powder, sugar, and milk,” Kate replied.

“So I guess everyone has to learn cooking secrets from other people’s moms, huh?” Lisa said, glad that she wasn’t the only one.

“Or dads,” John reminded them. “My dad makes the best pancakes this side of the Mississippi.”

“Oh, good,” said Lisa, “then we don’t have to argue. Because
Carole’s
dad makes the best on our side of the Mississippi! When we have slumber parties, he has to churn them out for hours!”

Carole made an effort to laugh with everyone else. She hoped it didn’t sound too fake. All she wanted to do was leave. She just had to get away, soon, but she didn’t know how to escape without answering a ton of questions. She gave a frustrated sigh. Sometimes The Saddle Club was
almost too close. This was one of those times. If she said anything about the black mare, Stevie and Lisa would get those concerned looks. They didn’t understand the instant bond she had formed with the mare. It wasn’t that the mare resembled Cobalt, although that was what had initially drawn Carole to her. Now it was more the fact that she needed Carole, pure and simple. Stevie and Lisa thought they understood, but they didn’t.

After a mug or two of cocoa, Stevie wanted everyone to play board games. The temperature had dropped five degrees from the day before; it was bitterly cold and windy, a perfect inside day.

Kate went to the basement and came up with a pile of games. “Monopoly? Risk? Parcheesi? We’ve got all the old standards. Cards? Uno? Carole, what do you want to play?” she asked. Carole looked a little out of it, and Kate wanted to make sure she felt included.

“Uh, I don’t really care,” Carole said distractedly. “But um, whatever it is, why don’t you guys set it up and I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where are you off to, Car’?” Stevie asked.

Carole met her friend’s hazel eyes for a moment. “I’ve got to run back to the bunkhouse,” she said evenly. She didn’t explain further. Setting her mug down on the nearest table, she headed for the door.

Stevie went to the window and watched her go. She noticed that instead of heading for the bunkhouse, Carole went to the barn.

“She must be going out to see the mare,” Stevie mused aloud.

“Do you think so?” Lisa said anxiously. “I wonder why she didn’t tell us.”

The two of them watched Carole’s progress across the snow.

John spoke up tentatively. “If I were you, I’d cut her some slack,” he said. “The mare needs her.”

Lisa was a little annoyed. This was Saddle Club business. Why was John interfering?

“Look,” said John, as if he could read her mind, “I know I’m butting in here, but I’ve watched her with the horse, and Carole’s—she—I don’t know how to put this, but she’s really got a way with her.”

Something in John’s tone made Lisa glance up at him, despite her irritation. “What are you saying?”

“Yeah, I mean, we all know Carole’s great with horses,” said Stevie.

John looked uncomfortable. “I can’t explain it. It’s just a feeling I have. I’ll know more when I’ve seen them together more.”

Lisa’s and John’s eyes met. He seemed to be pleading with her to understand. Maybe he was right. Maybe she and Stevie were getting too worked up about a nonexistent problem. Clearly Carole felt hedged in by them. Maybe they ought to take a different tactic and not be so nosy. They
all
knew what it was like when The Saddle Club got so tight that there was no breathing room. Once
in a while each one of them needed space from the other two. That was only natural.

“Well, tell us if you come to any conclusions,” she said lightly.

John looked relieved. He thanked Kate for the cocoa and excused himself. “I’ve been having so much fun this morning, I kind of forgot I have a job to do,” he said on his way out.

“Maybe he’s right,” Stevie said when he had gone. “Maybe we should quit worrying about ‘what if.’ ”

“I was thinking that, too,” Lisa said. “I only wish I believed Carole was enjoying the present. This whole trip she’s been somewhere else.”

Eventually the three girls settled down to a game of gin rummy. Stevie was the dealer. When she started to hand out the first cards, she made three piles. She hesitated a moment, then went back to the first pile. They all knew there was no point in dealing a hand for Carole.

I
T WAS
C
AROLE
’
S
worst nightmare. The black mare was trotting along the corral fence, back and forth, back and forth. She was covered in sweat. Judging from the deep, muddy tracks, she’d been at it all morning. Every so often, she stopped and whinnied. The sound pierced Carole to the core. She ran blindly toward the fence. The mare was so agitated, she didn’t notice Carole at first. But when Carole slipped throught the fence, whispering to her, the mare listened immediately. She came up to Carole of her
own accord. Carole felt herself smile inside. It was the first time the mare had come to her and not vice versa.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Carole said. She opened the gate and led the mare through. It didn’t even occur to her that she had no lead line or bridle or any kind of equipment for controlling the mare. Her one thought was to help the mare.

The mare followed, docile as a school horse. On the other side of the gate, she seemed to calm down even more. Soon she was rubbing her head against Carole. Carole glanced around. She wanted to take the mare away from the barn, even for a little while. But walking would take forever. Without stopping to think of the possible consequences, Carole climbed up on the fence. She placed her hands on the mare’s withers. In another second she had sprung up onto the jet-black back. The mare seemed slightly surprised to have her aboard, but she didn’t seem to mind. Carole laughed when the horse turned around to look at her rider, an inquisitive expression in her large eyes. “That’s right. We’re taking a little bareback excursion,” Carole said. In response, the mare opened her mouth and nibbled on the toe of Carole’s shoe.

Carole used her knees and seat to guide the mare toward the trailhead. It was as easy as if she’d had a bridle and saddle. The mare seemed to know where Carole wanted to go. She jogged along at a steady pace. As soon
as they were a few hundred yards down the trail, Carole got off again. The mare nuzzled her.