Rocking Horse (7 page)

Lisa and Carole walked their horses as close to the starting box as possible so that they could see Stevie go. Carole was examining a tiny cut on Starlight’s knee when she heard Stevie say, in a voice of awe, “That hold on course—it must have been for
Veronica
.” Veronica was trotting Danny out of the woods. Danny had his ears back and looked miserable, and Veronica was kicking him in fury.

“Of course,” Lisa said instantly. “She started in front of me—I shouldn’t have been able to pass her. I hadn’t even thought. What happened?”

“Do you suppose she fell off?”

“Why wouldn’t I have seen her?” Lisa asked. “Why wouldn’t the jump judges have stopped me?” Lisa hoped she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“She looks awful,” Carole said. “I’ve never seen her so angry.”

“Stevie Lake!” announced the starter.

“Gotta go!” Stevie said cheerfully. She waved her crop at her friends, then, on the starter’s count, galloped
Belle off. Lisa and Carole continued to look in amazement at Veronica. Danny wasn’t limping—he didn’t seem to be hurt in any way—but he did seem for once to be absolutely fed up with his rider. As soon as he had crossed the finish line, he stopped and refused to carry her any farther. Veronica screamed in rage. She went to hit him with her crop, but the crop flew out of her hand and narrowly missed hitting an official.

“She must have gone off course,” Lisa said. “She must have turned the wrong way and jumped the wrong jumps. Otherwise I couldn’t have gotten around her.”

Carole nodded. Veronica had dismounted and was screaming at the official, who had confiscated her crop. “I think it’s time we took these horses back to their stalls,” she said to Lisa. “I don’t think we need to see Veronica for the next few minutes.”

Lisa nodded. “Plus, I know a few horses who deserve baths and a pound of carrots apiece.”

Carole grinned. “Agreed.”

C
AROLE AND
L
ISA
had their horses bathed and were drying them in front of the stabling tent when Stevie finished the course. She rode Belle right up to them. “Hey,” she called, “want to hear some good news? Sixteen of the twenty teams have completed cross-country. One—just one—has a perfect score. Guess
which team that is?” Stevie’s broad grin told them the answer.

Lisa cut her voice off in midcheer. She saw Betsy standing right next to them, and she felt bad about celebrating so loudly. Betsy had ridden well.

“Don’t worry about it,” Betsy said. She walked the horse she was leading into their circle. “Do you see who I’m taking care of?”

The Saddle Club girls nodded. Betsy had given Danny a much-needed bath. She shook her head in frustration. “Veronica and her father are off complaining to the show officials. She did go off course—she jumped some of the younger kids’ fences and almost collided with an eight-year-old boy riding a pony. She’s been eliminated from the competition, so, of course, our team has been eliminated, too.”

“And she asked you to take care of Danny?” Carole held her hand under his velvety nose. Danny blew into it.

“Nope,” Betsy said. “She just yanked her saddle off him and left him steaming in his stall.” She looked furious. “Meg’s getting started on our tack while I cool him out. Trust me, we are not cleaning Veronica’s tack. But we couldn’t let Danny suffer.”

“Of course not,” Carole said. “I’m done with Starlight; I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.” Betsy seemed about to say something, then stopped. Finally she said, “I heard about the
mud in Belle’s tail. I don’t know for sure that Veronica did it, but she could have. She left the tack room late last night, when Meg and I were almost asleep. I thought she was just going to the bathroom. She could have done it then.”

“Thanks,” Stevie said. “We were pretty sure she’d done it.”

“You’re welcome.” Betsy shook her head. “You know, when we’re not around horses, Veronica and I are pretty good friends. We have a lot of fun together at school. I almost think I’d like her better if she didn’t ride.”

Lisa put Prancer back in her stall and helped Stevie untack Belle. “That’s pretty sad, what Betsy said,” she commented. “I love the fact that you and Carole ride. How were those coops, Stevie?”

Stevie grinned. “I didn’t even see them,” she said. “I made sure Belle was straight to them, but I looked over the top of them. I never looked at the jumps. Then, when she was coming right up to them, I shut my eyes and grabbed her mane. Belle did just fine.”

O
NCE
L
ISA HAD
finished helping Stevie, she took her brushes into Prancer’s stall. The mare’s coat was clean and dry, but she needed to be groomed thoroughly. The next day, for the dressage test, Prancer would have to have her mane braided, and Lisa knew it wouldn’t hurt her to get started on that now.
Braiding took forever, but fortunately Prancer could sleep in her braids.

Lisa hummed in quiet contentment while she worked. Prancer seemed a bit tired but happy to eat hay and have Lisa fuss over her. Lisa was so lost in her own thoughts that she jumped sideways when A.J. came into the stall and said hi.

“Sorry,” he added with a grin.

“That’s okay.” Lisa retrieved the body brush that she’d dropped and soothed Prancer with a pat. “I was just going over our ride in my mind. I wish I could always ride like that.”

“I know the feeling.” A.J. picked up a soft brush and started going over Prancer’s face. “I came to thank you for the dance invitation,” he said, not quite looking Lisa in the face.

Lisa felt herself begin to blush. She’d forgotten all about that embarrassing moment. And surely—well, A.J. hadn’t thought she liked him, had he? He was great as a friend, but Lisa didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.

“Do you mind if I bring my girlfriend along?” A.J. asked.

Lisa sighed in relief. “No, that’s fine,” she said. “Anyone can come.” It occurred to her that maybe that was why Bart had seemed so hesitant. “Tell Bart—tell him he can bring his girlfriend, too,” she said, trying hard to sound indifferent about it.

A.J. laughed. “Not likely,” he said. “Bart doesn’t have a girlfriend. Didn’t you hear what he said to you today? He really is a lot more comfortable around horses than girls.”

“Oh,” Lisa said. She brushed Prancer’s flank carefully.

“In fact,” A.J. said slowly, “you’re the only girl I can think of that he really talks to at all.”

“Oh,” Lisa said again. She tried hard to keep her voice casual, but she was afraid she wasn’t quite doing it. She could feel heat rising to her face. If only she didn’t blush so easily!

Now A.J. was watching her and she was avoiding his eyes. “He’s a really nice guy,” he said, “and I think you’d really like him.”

Lisa didn’t say anything. She brushed with great concentration.

“So what I wanted to tell you is, I’ll try to get him to go to the dance,” A.J. said. “He doesn’t usually go to dances, but with you there I’m sure he’d have a great time. So Phil and I will try to convince him. That is, if you want us to.”

“Sure,” Lisa said. “That would be nice. Everyone’s welcome, you know.”

A.J. put the brush he was using back into Lisa’s grooming box. “But some people are more welcome than others,” he said, laughing at her. “Don’t worry,
Lisa. With Phil and me both working on him, how can we fail?”

After A.J. left, Lisa brushed Prancer’s neck several more times before she felt her heartbeat return to anywhere near normal. She had the uncomfortable feeling that A.J. guessed exactly how she felt. Was she really being so obvious? She sighed and leaned her head against Prancer. Maybe Bart had the right idea. Maybe horses were easier to deal with than people—especially boys.

O
N
T
UESDAY AFTERNOON
Stevie breezed into the locker room just after Lisa and Carole had got there. “Guess what I saw at the Toggery!” she said. “It’s a pink sweater, tunic style, with little horses appliquéd all over it!”

Carole was pulling her old riding sweatshirt over the shirt she’d worn to school. They each had a cubby in the locker room, where they usually kept their everyday riding clothes. Carole sniffed at her sweatshirt. Time she took it home for a wash. “Pink,” she said, pushing her arms through the sleeves, “doesn’t exactly seem like your color.”

“Oh, not for me,” Stevie said blithely. She yanked
open the door of her cubby and pulled out her oldest pair of jeans. She usually rode in jeans and cowboy boots rather than breeches and riding boots. “For Lisa. It’d be perfect. You know your mom would get you something new, Lisa, and besides, I bet Bart would really like it. Considering how he feels about horses and all.”

Lisa blushed and threw an old sock at her friend. She’d told them about her conversations—with A.J., Phil, and Bart, and then with A.J. alone. She didn’t intend to get her hopes too high. Who knew how Bart really felt? But Stevie wouldn’t leave the subject alone.

“Shhh,” Carole said in warning as Veronica sailed into the room. Stevie hushed instantly.

Veronica never quite looked at them. “Hmmm,” she said as if to herself. “Something smells bad in here.” She grabbed her leather satchel out of her cubby and stalked out the door.

“What smells bad is her attitude,” Stevie remarked. “Even if Veronica hadn’t managed to get herself disqualified, our team still would have beaten hers. Even if she and Danny had been perfect.”

It was true. The Saddle Club had acquitted itself very well indeed. After the triumph of the cross-country rounds, the girls had ridden the dressage and show-jumping tests with confidence. Even Prancer’s small blowup in the dressage ring hadn’t counted too
heavily against them, and when Carole got a perfect score on the written test, with Lisa close on her heels, their victory was assured.

“I don’t like it,” Stevie added slowly. “Veronica’s being a much worse sport about this than usual. I mean, imagine, she took Danny home Saturday afternoon, even though the show officials said she could ride in the other events for practice.”

“It’s her pride,” Lisa guessed. “She can’t bear that she and Danny weren’t perfect.”

“That
she
wasn’t perfect,” Carole corrected her. “Danny had nothing to do with it. But I agree with you, Stevie. She’s being a total jerk. And worse, she seems to think it’s all our fault. I heard her telling Polly and Adam that. She keeps saying we made her tack fall into the mud.”

“It’s her guilty conscience,” Stevie declared. “She played that dirty trick with the mud in Belle’s tail, so she thinks everyone else would do that sort of thing, too.”

Meg walked in to get ready for the lesson and Stevie hastily shut up. The Saddle Club silently finished getting dressed.

Meg looked around. “Oh, were you guys just talking about Veronica?” she asked. “Boy, is she after the three of you.”

“That’s totally unfair,” Lisa blurted out.

“I know,” Meg said. “But it’s not stopping her. She’s in the office right now, giving Max an earful.”

Carole sighed. “She gave him one yesterday, too. I heard her.”

Stevie shook her head. “At least we know Max will never believe her. Anyway, Lisa, I’m totally serious about that sweater. You’ve got to see it.”

“Ooh, are you talking about the pink one at the Toggery?” Meg asked. “I’ve had my eye on it, too. It would be just perfect for the dance.”

“You can have it,” Lisa said. “I’m not going to get all dressed up.”

“Yes, you are,” Carole said, laughing. She grabbed Lisa’s hand and hauled her to her feet. “You might as well face facts—Stevie and I are going to make sure you look terrific.”

“Oh?” Meg inquired. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to be late,” Lisa said, hurrying out of the locker room. Prancer at least never bugged her.

F
OR THEIR LESSON
, Max saddled up, too, and rode with them out to one of the trails, where he’d built several jumps among the trees. “Now that you’ve all had a chance to compete this weekend,” he said, “you’ve probably got a better idea of some of the problem spots you and your horse need to work on. So I want you to tell me what those spots are, one at a time,
and we’ll see what we can do to make them better. Stevie?”

Stevie laughed. “Coop jumps, still. I’m not quite so afraid of them now, but I’d like to learn to jump them with my eyes open.”

“Excellent,” Max said. He found a hedge jump that looked very much like a coop and had them all practice it.

Carole noticed that Veronica was being ominously silent. She rode at the back of the group, stony-faced, and never said a word to Max, not even when he praised or corrected her. They worked on shadowed jumps for Betsy and jumps off a sharp turn for Meg. Lisa asked for a jump involving water. “Even though Prancer took the fence, I really had to get after her,” she said. “She still hates to get her feet wet, and she pulls back when she sees water coming.”

Max led them to a stream with a tiny log propped on one bank. They jumped into the water, all in a long, spread-out row. Prancer, true to Lisa’s word, didn’t like the water, but she followed the other horses in, and after she’d jumped the log back and forth several times, she seemed more at ease. Lisa patted her.

“Veronica,” Max said sharply, “aren’t you planning to jump this one?”