Autumn Trail (3 page)

Carole noticed that Veronica was leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, looking a bit bored. She decided to explain some of what the farrier was doing, on the off chance that Veronica would be interested. “Watch this,” Carole told her, nodding at Alec, who
was bent over one of Starlight’s front hooves. “See, he already removed Starlight’s old shoes, and now he’s checking his feet to make sure they’re healthy.”

Veronica shrugged noncommittally in response, and Carole took that as an invitation to keep talking.

“Okay, now he’s going to trim off the dead material from the frogs of the feet,” she said. “That’s the rubbery part that juts into the back of the sole,” she added. It was a fairly elementary anatomical term that Veronica certainly should know, but Carole knew that in Veronica’s case it wasn’t a good idea to take any knowledge for granted. Even though Veronica was a pretty good rider, she was just as lazy about things like learning horse anatomy as she was about mucking out Garnet’s stall.

“I know what the frog is,” Veronica replied a bit testily.

“Sorry,” Carole said, trying not to smile. “Anyway, all he has to do is trim off the ragged edges around the frog to keep dirt from collecting there. But he has to be careful so he doesn’t cut the healthy tissue underneath. Next he’ll use a rasp to even out the edges of the hoof walls.”

She paused for a moment to allow Alec’s actions to catch up with her words. When he picked up the rasp, the farrier interrupted his conversation with Max about Topside’s shoes and turned to Carole. “Carry on, instructor,” he told her with a wink as Max grinned.

Carole blushed. The two men had been so involved in their conversation that she hadn’t thought they’d even
heard her. She was a little embarrassed that they had caught her lecturing Veronica on the shoeing process. But she also knew that she knew what she was talking about, so she continued.

“It’s important that the force of the horse’s weight and motion be distributed evenly on the foot,” she explained as Alec started rasping. “After this, all that’s left to do is attach the shoes, which have been specially fitted to Starlight’s foot—”

“You mean horses have different-sized feet, just like people?” Veronica asked, showing the first glimmer of interest.

Carole wondered if that was because this was the first part of the process to which the fashion-conscious girl could really relate. She cast around for a way to explain that Veronica would understand. “Well, sure,” she said. “It’s like when you’re at the mall trying on shoes, and they have all different sizes, you know?”

Veronica nodded eagerly. “I know,” she said. “But it’s so annoying when they don’t have my size in the style I want. My mother says it happens so often because I have such small, delicate feet—”

“Uh-huh,” Carole interrupted. She didn’t want to get Veronica started on shopping—she was sure she could talk about that subject for just as long as Carole could talk about horses! “And the reason you want the shoes in your own size is because otherwise they’ll be uncomfortable.
They might give you blisters, make your feet really sore, and maybe even keep you from walking.”

“I guess so,” Veronica said dubiously. “But I usually just make someone drive me around to different stores until I find them in my size. Although once I wanted these great suede loafers, and no store in town had them in the right size, so Daddy had one of his friends mail them to me from New York.” She smiled triumphantly at the memory.

Carole stifled a sigh. “Okay, but to get back to the subject at hand, it’s even more important for a horse’s shoe to fit properly than it is for yours. After all, a horse’s shoe carries a lot more weight, and we all know how serious a leg injury can be.” As soon as the last words left her mouth, Carole bit her lip, wishing she could take them back. Cobalt’s death had been caused by a bad leg injury. Carole hoped Veronica didn’t think she had been referring to that—even though Carole had to admit that it had been in the back of her mind.

Luckily, Veronica’s mind seemed to be on something else entirely. “Right, right, so the shoe has to fit. I get it,” she said impatiently.

“Well, then, to attach the shoe to the hoof, Alec will use nails and clips. The clips come already built into the shoes, and get hammered onto the walls of the foot. The nails go through the holes in the shoe into the horn.” Just in time she stopped herself from explaining that the horn was the hard, insensitive outer part of the hoof.
“The horse can’t feel it, any more than you feel it when you clip your fingernails. And that’s it—the horse has new shoes.”

“Hmmm,” Veronica said. “I never realized how complicated the whole thing is.”

Carole thought that there were probably a lot of complicated things Veronica didn’t know about horse care—mostly because she never did any of them. But she knew that if she kept thinking about that, she’d just get angry and disgusted, and she didn’t want that to happen now, when Veronica was being almost nice. So she decided to change the subject. “So, Veronica, what are you and your parents doing for Thanksgiving?” Carole asked.

Veronica frowned. “My parents are going to the Bahamas for the holiday weekend.”

“Wow!” Carole said. Sometimes it was hard not to be impressed with Veronica’s wealth. Carole’s father made a comfortable enough living as a colonel in the Marine Corps, and he had recently taken her for a five-day vacation in Florida, but she couldn’t imagine him ever whisking her off to the Bahamas for the weekend. “That’s great. It’s been so freezing lately; it’s the perfect time to go. Have you ever been there before?”

“Yes, of course I have. But unfortunately I’m not going
this
time,” Veronica said, sounding rather bitter. She gave Carole a sidelong glance. “I’m not invited.”

“What?” Carole exclaimed. “But it’s Thanksgiving!
How can your parents just take off and leave you behind?”

Carole realized almost immediately that it hadn’t been the most tactful thing to say. She could tell by the look on Veronica’s face that this was upsetting her more than her casual words let on. “You tell me,” Veronica snapped.

“I’m sorry,” Carole said quickly.

“That’s all right,” Veronica said. “It’s not your fault that some stupid golfing trip is more important to my father than staying home for Thanksgiving.”

“Why aren’t they taking you with them?” Carole asked. “Then at least you’d be together for Thanksgiving.” Carole knew that the diAngelos had more than enough money to be able to afford to bring Veronica with them. In fact, they had enough money to bring all of the riders at Pine Hollow with them to the Bahamas if they felt like it—and the horses, too!

“It’s sort of a business trip,” Veronica explained. “Some superimportant client of my father’s has a vacation home down there, right next to some famous golf course. So he invited my father and his partner down. Their wives are invited, but not kids.”

“That’s terrible,” Carole declared. “How could anyone separate families at this time of year?”

Veronica sighed. “Well, my father told me that this guy isn’t American, he’s British. So he probably didn’t
even realize when he planned this trip that it took place on Thanksgiving weekend.”

“Oh, that explains it,” Carole said, trying to make a joke. “He probably still carries a grudge about the Revolutionary War.” She giggled at the thought that a modern Englishman would still be angry about America’s victory over England more than two hundred years earlier.

But Veronica didn’t even smile. Instead, she sighed again, more deeply this time. “Whatever the explanation, the result is that I get to spend Thanksgiving this year with the maid and the chauffeur.”

Carole tried to look on the bright side of the situation. “I thought you liked them both a lot.” Miles, the diAngelos’ chauffeur, had picked Veronica up at Pine Hollow many times. He had always seemed very kind to Carole. After all, he was always nice to Veronica even when she was being impossibly difficult, which was most of the time.

“Oh, I do,” Veronica said. “But they both have families, and I’m sure they’d much rather be with them for Thanksgiving than with me. They’re only doing it because my father is paying them triple their ordinary salary for the weekend.” She attempted a feeble smile. “It was an offer they couldn’t refuse.”

“Oh.” Carole didn’t know what to say next. She wished Lisa were there. She always seemed to know what to say to make people feel better. And Carole realized
that she really did want to make Veronica feel better, despite all of The Saddle Club’s efforts in the past to make her feel bad. Still, Carole remembered that every single one of those times there had been a reason for their scheming. Usually it was either because Veronica had been mistreating a horse, or because she’d been mistreating The Saddle Club.

This time was different. Carole had never before thought of Veronica diAngelo as vulnerable. After all, she seemed to have everything anyone could want, at least in terms of material things. She lived in a huge, elegant house, wore expensive designer riding clothes—including gorgeous leather boots that probably cost as much as Carole’s entire wardrobe—and never had to worry about having enough spending money. Most important as far as Carole was concerned, she was the owner of Garnet, who in addition to being a beautiful, sweet-tempered horse, was also a purebred Arabian.

But the more Carole thought about it, the more she realized that she wouldn’t want to trade places with Veronica for even one second. She had often noticed that the diAngelos seemed to try to solve every problem with money, even when it didn’t really help at all. Whenever Veronica threw one of her frequent temper tantrums, her parents offered to buy her something to make her feel better. Carole suspected that this was because it was quicker than listening and trying to solve the real problem.
She knew that Mr. diAngelo had an important job that took up a lot of his time.

Carole thought about her own father. Carole and her father had always been close, but since Mrs. Hanson’s death a couple of years earlier, they had become closer than ever. Carole knew she could tell her father about anything that was bothering her, and that he would listen. In fact, her friends could count on Colonel Hanson to listen to their problems, too, and to help if he could.

That gave her an idea. If her father could help Stevie and Lisa with their problems, why not Veronica, too? And if Carole could get him to help Veronica to feel better, even though Carole didn’t even
like
Veronica, it would be a true demonstration of selflessness—the perfect Thanksgiving project!

“Hey, Veronica,” Carole blurted out, before she was really aware of what she was about to say. “Why don’t you come spend the weekend with me and my father? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Veronica looked at her in surprise. For a second she looked suspicious, then thoughtful. She wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth as if to turn down the invitation, then stopped. Finally, she shrugged. “Well,” she said, “I guess that might be better than nothing.” She paused again. “In fact, it might even be fun or something.” She smiled at Carole. “I’ll call right now and ask my parents. I’m sure they’ll say yes—I think they’ve
been feeling guilty about the whole thing, anyway. Thanks a lot, Carole. I’m glad you asked.”

“My pleasure. It’ll be fun,” Carole said weakly, wondering what she was letting herself in for. But there was no time to back out now.

“Max, can I use the phone in your office?” Veronica wheedled. “Pretty please?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Max said. Normally, the phone in Max’s office was reserved for emergencies. The riders were supposed to use the pay phone. But Carole suspected that Max was too surprised at hearing Veronica say “please” to insist on her following that rule. Either that, Carole thought ruefully, or he had overheard her own offer and was still in shock.

Carole bit her lip and tried to pay attention to what Alec was doing while she waited for Veronica to return. But her mind was racing, and for once she couldn’t concentrate on the horse in front of her. She and her father had planned a quiet Thanksgiving dinner for just the two of them. After her mother’s death Thanksgiving had become a quiet but very special time for Carole and her father. They used the day to remember her and be thankful for the time they’d had with her, and also to be thankful for having each other. This year they had been planning on spending the day cooking and eating together, then watching
Miracle on 34th Street
on television.

Even though Veronica was being much more human
today than usual, Carole had a difficult time imagining her fitting in with their modest plans. And what was more, she wasn’t sure she
wanted
to imagine it.

Just then Veronica returned, breathless from running. “It’s all set,” she told Carole excitedly. “My parents said it’s okay for me to stay with you. They’ll drop me off here Wednesday on their way to the airport, and I can just go home with you when you come to take care of Starlight.”

“Great,” Carole said. “I can’t wait.” Suddenly she had another thought. What were Stevie and Lisa going to say? Carole almost groaned out loud. She had a feeling she was in for a whole lot of teasing from her friends. Still, she reminded herself, she was supposed to find something generous and selfless to do to celebrate Thanksgiving. And watching Veronica’s happy expression, Carole knew that her invitation had made the other girl feel much better.

And that’s what the spirit of Thanksgiving is all about, Carole thought. Isn’t it?