Best Friends (9 page)

Carole had given her father one of his all-time favorite movies,
Casablanca
. The question was whether Rick ever uttered the words, “Play it again, Sam.” He didn’t. They’d been through the piano scenes three times, and though he said, “Play it,” he never said, “Play it again, Sam”—the words by which Humphrey Bogart had been known for so many years but which he had never spoken.

“It’s still a great movie, honey,” Carole’s dad said.

“So let’s just watch the rest of it,” she said. “I love the ‘hill of beans’ part.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Actually, I love every bit of it, and I guess that’s why you gave it to me for Christmas—even though we already own it.”

“We
owned
it,” she corrected him. “It just got worn out from being watched so many times.”

Carole and her father had a lot in common, including a passion for old movies, especially this one and the other one she’d given him for Christmas,
Citizen Kane
. She’d gotten them both on sale from the video store. Her father told her it was just about the best Christmas present he could have ever asked for, and she knew he meant it.

When the movie was over, Carole offered to take the popcorn bowl and the glasses to the kitchen.

“Only if you’re going to refill them,” said Colonel Hanson. “We’ve got a whole other movie to watch!”

“It’s a good thing I could only afford two movies,” Carole said, taking the empty bowl and glasses out. “Otherwise we’d be here all night.”

“And what a night it would be!” he said, laughing.

When Carole returned, her father had rewound the first movie and was ready to start the second one.

“Good Christmas?” he asked.

“The best,” she assured him. She tried to smile enough to convince him.

“Something’s on your mind,” he said. She never could fool him about anything.

“No, everything’s fine,” she said.

“I’m going to miss you when you go to that show,” he said.

“I’ll miss you, too.”

“Wish I could be there to watch you,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it, Dad. You’ve watched me ride plenty of times.”

“Do you really mean that? Because I’ve been thinking you were upset about something.”

“I really mean it, Dad,” she said. “Really.”

Of course she meant it. There was no reason for him to be upset about not watching her compete, because she wasn’t going to be able to compete and it was all her fault. If she’d saved more money in some kind of rainy-day fund—No, that was silly, it didn’t take a rainy day for her to know that a bridle held together with duct tape needed to be replaced. She’d spent all the money she’d had, and now she couldn’t do something she wanted to do.

It was going to be hard, though, watching her friends ride at the show and having to be on the sidelines. At least she’d be there for them.

“How was the Starlight Ride last night?” her father asked.

“Well, you were there,” she reminded him.

“Just at the end. Not in the woodsy part of it. Tell me about it.”

“It was great, Dad. Just like it always is. Only it was one of the best because of the snow on the ground.”

“I saw you got partnered up with Veronica. Was that okay? I was a little afraid that would ruin it for you.”

“Nothing could have ruined it for me. Besides, Veronica has decided she loves Starlight’s new bridle, and it gives me great pleasure to have something she wishes she had.”

“Doesn’t she have a good bridle?”

“That old thing?” Carole asked sarcastically. “She’s had it over a
year
. It’s got scratches on it!”

Colonel Hanson laughed at Carole’s imitation. “You’re pretty funny, you know.”

“It’s easy to pick on Veronica,” Carole told him. “The fact is, she’s kind of sad. She has some good qualities—like she’s a pretty good rider—but when she’s trying to be the boss of the world and to show that she’s number one in absolutely everything, she’s a pain.”

“That sounds very wise,” said the colonel.

“Maybe it’s the Christmas spirit,” said Carole. “I’m haunted by it, like Scrooge.”

“Speaking of which, why didn’t you get me
that
movie, too?”

“Is that
your
imitation of Veronica?” she asked him.

He didn’t answer. He just clicked the remote and the opening scenes of
Citizen Kane
began to flicker on the screen.

“Hand me the popcorn, woman!” he said.

She did, lobbing it at him kernel by kernel until he apologized.

By which time young Citizen Kane was belly flopping on his sled in the snows of Colorado.

C
AROLE CHECKED HER
list a final time. Everything was there.

“Okay, Dad,” she said. “That’s it. I’ve got everything.”

Her father looked at the enormous pile next to her and said, “That’s a good thing, honey, because I don’t think there’s anything left!”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “We’re going to be gone for five days. That’s a lot of food and stuff we need.”

“I’ve seen troops on maneuvers that had less stuff than you’ve got.” He smiled and gave her a hug. “Have fun!”

“I will,” she promised, hugging him back.

When Carole arrived at Pine Hollow, Stevie and Lisa helped her lug everything into the stable.

“Wow!” Lisa declared. “You’ve got more stuff than I do!”

Lisa was famous for traveling heavy. Her mother usually made her bring
everything
. One time she insisted that Lisa bring a hair dryer on a camping trip (Lisa had left the hair dryer in her locker, and her mother was none the wiser).

“Well, we need to have food for our overnight and for our trip,” said Carole. “I’m sure we’ll be able to get additional supplies when we get to the show grounds.”

“Right,” Stevie agreed. “I checked the Internet, and they do have supermarkets in South Carolina,” she teased.

When they brought the last bag into the stable, Carole noticed that Stevie’s pile wasn’t much smaller than hers. Stevie even had two coolers, compared with Carole’s single large one.

“Who’s talking?” she asked.

Stevie shrugged. “I figured we’d need food, so I brought some.”

“I think we’ll be able to open a concession stand when we get there!” Lisa said.

“Good way to raise money,” said Carole. She wished she hadn’t said it. It was a subject she didn’t want to touch on with her friends. “But we’re going to be too busy, anyway. I’m so excited!”

“Me too,” Lisa agreed. “And the horses are, too. I just
went to say hi to Prancer. She was stomping and snorting. She can’t wait to get going.”

“We’re not leaving until the morning,” Carole reminded her.

“I thought we might give the horses a chance to work out some kinks before they have to spend all that time in a van,” Lisa said.

“Like a trail ride?” asked Stevie.

Carole nodded sagely. “Just what they need. They’ve been working long and hard at all that discipline stuff they—and we—are going to need for the show. This is a good chance to let them hang out.”

“Us too,” Stevie said.

Taking a trail ride was one of the things the girls loved best. It never took much to convince them it was a good idea. They stowed all their gear and food for the sleepover and the trip to South Carolina and had their horses tacked up in minutes.

As they left the stable, each, in turn, brushed her gloved hand over Pine Hollow’s good-luck horseshoe. It was one of the stable’s oldest and most hallowed traditions. Every rider touched the horseshoe before going out, even little kids on ponies with lead lines. No rider who had touched it had ever been seriously hurt. The shoe had been smoothed and
shined by the touches of all the riders over the years. Some people thought the horseshoe actually had a magical quality. Carole suspected that it served as a reminder that riding could be dangerous and required attention to safety.

The girls closed the stable door behind them. Carole tugged her gloves up and her sleeves down. It seemed chillier than it had been when she’d been emptying her father’s car. She could see her horse’s breath. She could see her own. She shrugged. It was December. What did she expect?

The day before had been much warmer, and most of the snow from the last snowfall had melted. The ground was hard but firm, and the horses had an easy time crossing the field with the short-cropped grass. It was almost hard to remember how the field had looked in the spring and summer, filled with lush, green grass and surrounded by tall trees with big leaves.

And now it was getting dark, too, as it did so early in the December afternoons.

“We can’t stay out long,” Carole said.

“We’ll just follow the same trail we took the other night,” said Lisa. “The horses know the way, and so do we.”

The trail was a very familiar. Even more important, the horses had considerable night vision. They’d be safe and Carole knew it.

Before the sun dipped down, they could see the stars
coming out, and then, as the sky darkened in the east, the moon appeared.

Stevie, in the lead, halted Belle when they came to an open space in the woods. She sat back on her saddle and looked skyward. “It’s like …”

Carole could tell she was at a loss for words. “It’s like our very own Starlight Ride,” she said.

“Minus the other kids, minus the noise, and minus the cocoa,” said Lisa.

“Don’t be so sure about the cocoa part,” said Stevie, giving the first hint of what goodies
her
coolers contained.

Starlight took a step backward and then settled into a comfortable pose. Carole shifted her weight in the saddle and rested. It was a perfect moment. She was in an utterly beautiful place with her two best friends and the three horses they loved the most. It was cold, the air was clear, the stars sparkled, and the bright moonlight cast shadows across the open field where they stood in silence.

As far as Carole was concerned, there was only one thing wrong: She had a secret. She hadn’t told her friends that she was just along for the ride to the CI. She wouldn’t be competing. It disappointed her a little, but at least she was going to be there and she knew she’d be helpful to her friends. There was always a lot to do at a show. She’d be able to do it all—all except one thing.

Starlight snorted. Belle shifted to her right.

“I think they want us to get moving,” said Stevie.

“Lead on!” Lisa encouraged her.

The three of them urged their horses forward. Their goal was to get to their favorite place of all: the creek. In the summer they often lingered there, sitting on a rock and dangling their feet in the water. That wasn’t going to happen tonight, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t go.

The creek wasn’t much farther and the ride didn’t take long. Once they’d satisfied themselves that their favorite spot was there and it would be there the next time they came, they turned around. A few minutes later, they were back in the same clearing.

“What’s up?” Lisa asked, looking around.

It was as if the whole place had changed in the mere fifteen minutes it had taken them to go and return to it.

Carole looked around. Starlight sniffed. Everything seemed different and she didn’t know why until she looked up. Clouds had moved in, obscuring the stars. The moon was a mere glimmer through the clouds, and it disappeared completely while she was watching.

“Weather’s changing,” said Carole.

“Tell me about it,” Stevie agreed, reaching out to grab a snowflake.

“Really,” said Lisa.

“I think we’d better get back,” Carole told her friends.

The storm the week before had taught them that the weather could change quickly this winter, and that seemed to be what was happening now. They headed their horses back to the stable. By the time the girls got within a quarter mile of Pine Hollow, the big buildings had almost disappeared in the darkness and the falling snow. The horses, guided by instinct, took their riders back in safely.

“That was weird,” said Stevie, dismounting.

Carole and Lisa agreed.

“But at least we’re here.”

“I hope the roads will be okay tomorrow,” said Lisa.

“Oh, sure,” said Stevie. “Remember how school was open the day after that last storm?”

It would have been hard for anyone to forget Stevie’s tantrum about that.

“Why don’t you let Carole and me take care of Belle while you make us each a mug of cocoa?” Lisa suggested. The deal was struck.

Lisa and Carole soon realized they weren’t just taking care of Belle. They had to look after every horse in the stable. Max and Deborah had already left for the CI because of the classes he was teaching before the competition. Red was off duty, at home. Mrs. Reg was out for the evening. They were in charge.

They knew what to do based on their last snowstorm experience.
First they made sure all the doors were snugly shut so that the barn would stay as warm as possible. Then they saw to it that each horse had a blanket.

They paused in their chores to have a cup of cocoa with Stevie, who then helped them finish up. Each horse got an extra ration of straw to keep him warm and an extra ration of hay to keep him busy and fed. It was plenty of work looking after one or two horses. It was almost overwhelming tending to thirty. But they shared the work, and by the time they were done, they were ready for their picnic dinner.