Endurance Ride (10 page)

This time Carole had more trouble finding his pulse. “There’s something wrong,” she said, a hint of despair in her voice. “His heartbeat’s faster, but it’s not as strong. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what to do.”

Stevie moved to Carole’s side. “Don’t panic. I know it’s a shock to have Max hurt, but we’ll get help. Now—”

“Oh,” Carole said. “Oh, of course, that’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“He’s going into shock. They told us about it in first aid. We’ve got to put his feet higher than his head, stop any bleeding, and keep him warm.”

“It’s a good thing he landed with his feet higher than his head,” Stevie said, “because you said we couldn’t move him.” She untied her jacket from her waist and put it over Max.

“Oh, good thinking!” Carole said. She did the same.

“Is he still bleeding?” Chloe asked.

“No … well, the cut’s oozing a little, but nothing like it was.” Carole looked distracted. “I don’t remember what else they told us about shock. Get medical help, but we’re doing that.”

“Press down on his wound to make sure he’s not bleeding,” Chloe said. “I’ll go get my jacket for him, and I’ll see what else I can find.”

Carole covered the bloody polo wrap with one hand. Stevie squeezed her other hand. “It’ll be okay,” Stevie said. “Lisa will get help soon.”

“I hope so,” Carole said.

“She’ll do great,” Stevie said. “We’re doing the best we can. Max will be fine—he won’t let us down. He never has.”

Carole looked at Max’s still form. “I don’t think he has much say in it this time.”

Chloe returned with her tunic, the sponge from her saddle, and all four of the horses’ saddle pads. They covered Max from head to toe, and Carole fastened the sponge over Max’s cut with the end of the polo wrap and continued to press down on it. Suddenly they heard Starlight whinny. On the trail above, another rider came into view—but from the wrong direction. He was a competitor,
not a rescuer. As soon as he saw the horses tied on the trail, he stopped. In a moment the man had tethered his horse and was making his way cautiously to the girls’ side.

“What happened?” he asked as soon as he reached them. They briefly explained. He looked very concerned. “Gosh,” he said, “I don’t know what else to do, either. You’ve already done all I can think of. Here, take my jacket. I think I’m the last rider on the trail—the friends I was riding with quit at the last check. You’ve already sent someone for help?”

Chloe checked her watch. “About a half hour ago.”

“Maybe you could go, too?” Carole suggested. “Just in case—”

“Of course.” The man slid his backpack to the ground. “Help yourselves to anything in there. There’s a bandanna you could use for a bandage, and I’ve got some candy bars left. Sit tight. I’ll be back soon.” He went back to his horse and rode away.

The girls tried to find comfortable places to sit on the slope around Max. His pulse hadn’t gotten any fainter. Fresh blood no longer seeped through Stevie’s polo-wrap bandage. Max seemed, for now, to be holding on, but his skin was still pale and clammy, and he hadn’t moved.
Carole couldn’t fight the uneasiness that clutched her heart. What would she do without Max?

Stevie looked inside the man’s backpack. She used the bandanna to add another layer to Max’s bandage. “Anybody want a candy bar?” she asked. Chloe shook her head.

“I couldn’t eat,” Carole said.

Stevie put the candy bars back. “Me either. It was nice of that guy to leave them for us, though. I hope he comes back soon.”

“Lisa will be back long before he will,” Carole said sharply.

“I know. I just meant, I hope someone comes soon.” Stevie put her head in her hands. “It’s been a long time since Lisa left.”

Chloe checked her watch again. “Not even forty minutes,” she said. “I bet it’ll take her nearly an hour to finish the ride—and then it’ll be an hour before anyone can make it back here. Maybe longer. I don’t know if they’ll be able to use horses. They might have to come in on foot.”

Stevie looked at the sky. “Maybe they’ll send a helicopter.”

“Maybe,” Chloe said.

“I got lost on the trail,” Stevie said.

“Lisa won’t,” Chloe said firmly.

“I know,” Stevie said. “Of all of us, she pays the closest attention to things. She’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Carole said. She reached for Max’s pulse again and shook her head. “He’s getting weaker, not stronger. I hope some help gets here soon.”

L
ISA THOUGHT THE
trail would never end. Her leg muscles strained to hold her out of the saddle so that Prancer could gallop freely. She gasped for air against the wind. White flecks of sweaty foam streaked Prancer’s neck and shoulders. Surely they’d galloped a thousand miles by now. She knotted one hand in Prancer’s mane for balance.

“Good girl, Prancer, keep on,” she murmured. She could feel the mare tiring, but even now, as she pressed her heels against Prancer’s sides, Prancer responded with another surge of speed. Lisa steadied her around a corner, then burst into tears of relief. Far ahead, red plastic flags marked the finish line. People were waiting there, Mrs. Reg and
Deborah and a rescue squad. “Go!” she said to Prancer. Prancer plowed forward doggedly.

“Heads up!” Lisa shouted through her tears as they galloped into the clearing and across the finish line. Dismounted riders scattered; everyone looked up in surprise. Not many riders ended a fifty-mile race going as fast as their horses could run.

Lisa saw Mrs. Reg in the crowd and rode straight for her. When she pulled on the reins, Prancer stopped without argument, and Lisa tumbled out of the saddle into Mrs. Reg’s arms. “Max!” she gasped. She saw Deborah, holding Maxine, standing beside Mrs. Reg, and she took a deep breath and made herself speak clearly. “Max had an accident. He’s hurt badly. We need an ambulance to go get him.”

Deborah’s face went white. She handed Maxine to Mrs. Reg and grabbed Lisa’s arm. Some of the ride officials had heard Lisa and were already alerting the waiting rescue team. Paramedics jumped out of an ambulance parked on the side of the field.

“Come on, Lisa,” Deborah urged, pulling her toward them. “You’ll have to tell them what happened. And you’ll have to show us where he is.”

Lisa nodded. “Carole and Stevie stayed with him.” As
Deborah led her away, Lisa looked back over her shoulder. “Prancer …”

The three Pony Tails had surrounded the mare, and Lisa saw Mr. Baker and Phil coming forward as well. “We’ll take care of her, Lisa,” May shouted. Lisa knew they would.

She turned back toward Deborah and ran a few steps to keep up with her. “We came as fast as we could,” she said. “Prancer and I.”

Deborah reached back and put her arm around Lisa’s shoulder. “I know you did,” she said.

Two paramedics were pulling equipment out of the back of the ambulance. “Tell us what happened,” one of them, a young woman with dark hair, said gently. Lisa described the accident as best she could. The woman nodded encouragingly.

“Lisa and I will go back with you,” Deborah said firmly. “I’m his wife, Deborah.”

The paramedics looked at one another. “Of course,” the woman said. “I’m Susan and this is Daniel. We’ll all go together.”

The ride organizers produced a pair of four-wheel-drive vehicles. A ride steward offered to drive one for Deborah and Lisa, but Deborah assured the man that she knew how to drive it. Susan and Daniel loaded the backs of the
vehicles with a stretcher and some boxes of supplies. Lisa climbed in behind Deborah, and, as Deborah gunned the engine, Lisa stood on the narrow seat so that she could get a glimpse of Prancer. The mare was wearing a mesh cooler. Mrs. Reg cradled Maxine with one arm while she held Prancer’s lead rope with the other hand. May was drying Prancer’s neck with a towel, Phil was sponging her hindquarters, Corey was offering her sips of water, and Jasmine was rubbing down her legs. Mr. Baker was bending over a bucket of something. Lisa sighed in relief. Surely if the mare had been in distress, the ride vets would have been crowding around her, too. Maybe the gallop hadn’t hurt Prancer after all.

Deborah hit the accelerator and the vehicle shot forward. Lisa grabbed the side of her seat. “Hang on!” Deborah shouted. “The trail looks a little bumpy!” The first jolt nearly rocketed Lisa out of her seat, but she was thrilled to be going so fast. Every bump meant they were getting closer to Max.

O
N THE RIDGE
, the shadows were lengthening in the late-afternoon sun. The three girls kept their vigil. Max still hadn’t moved. He still breathed.

“I’ll go check on the horses,” Chloe offered. She slipped away.

“I just wish something would happen,” Carole burst out. Her arm was starting to cramp from holding on to Max’s wound, but she didn’t want to let go. “Waiting like this is driving me crazy.” She dug a hole in the dirt with her heel.

“He’s not getting worse,” Stevie said. “That’s something, anyway.”

“It’s not much,” Carole replied. “And he could be getting worse, we just can’t tell. I
hate
this.”

Stevie didn’t know what to say. Carole was rarely this upset about anything—but she certainly had reason to be upset now. How could Stevie comfort her friend when she didn’t feel comforted herself? Max looked awful.

“My mom died in a hospice,” Carole said. “We got to sit with her at the end, my dad and I, and it was just like this—waiting and waiting, and nothing ever changing. She didn’t wake up. She didn’t talk to us, or smile, or know we were there. She just
died
.”

“He’s not going to die,” Stevie said, scooting over so that her shoulder touched Carole’s. “He’s just got a concussion, like I did. Remember? It was scary at first, but it was no big deal.”

“I’m so scared,” Carole said, her voice trembling.

“I know.” Stevie thought about Carole’s mother, who had died of cancer several years before. Stevie had known Mrs. Hanson a little, but she and Carole hadn’t been such
good friends then. Mrs. Hanson had been so sick she rarely came around to the stable, and Carole never had friends over. Carole almost never talked about her mom. Stevie had never before heard what had happened the day she had died.

“What did you do at the hospice?” Stevie asked. “Did you talk to her?”

“No,” Carole said, her eyes filling with tears. “I wanted to—I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think it would matter. But later I thought that maybe, if I had talked to her, she would have talked back. I don’t think so. The doctors gave her a lot of medicine so that she wouldn’t be in any pain, and it made her sleepy. But maybe she would have said something. I wish I had tried.”

“So let’s talk to Max,” Stevie said. “He won’t die, anyway, but he might be getting bored. We may as well entertain him.”

Carole let out a short laugh. “Only you, Stevie, would be trying to entertain someone who was unconscious and bleeding!”

“I tell jokes in my sleep,” Stevie said. Carole shook her head.

Chloe came back. “They’re okay,” she said. “I gave them some water, but Belle wouldn’t drink from my backpack.
She seems okay, though. Barq is getting pretty stiff, but he can still walk. I think he’s just really badly bruised.”

“We’re going to talk to Max,” Carole said in a determined voice.

“Okay,” Chloe said. “Hi, Max.”

“Hi, Max,” Stevie echoed.

“Hi, Max,” Carole said. “We’re sorry you’re hurt. We hope you’ll be better really soon. We sent Lisa and Prancer for help, and you know how fast Prancer can run. We’re expecting them any minute now.”

“We figured you were probably getting bored, lying there on the ground and all,” Stevie cut in. “I’ve got a couple of new grape jokes Phil told me this morning. What’s purple and eight hundred pages long?
Moby Grape
.”

“I’m really grateful to have you as a teacher, Max,” Carole said. “You’re the best teacher I’ve ever had. I’ve probably never said that before, but it’s true.”

“Thanks for letting me come on this ride with you,” Chloe added. “I know a lot of people wouldn’t want to take responsibility for a rider they never met. I thought you were a nice person right away, even when I saw you last night at dinner, before I needed a sponsor for the ride.”

“Speaking of last night’s dinner,” Stevie said, “am I the only person who thinks it feels like three years ago? Carole
knows I’m happy to talk to you, Max, but I don’t want to be too serious. If I were serious, you wouldn’t believe it was me talking.”

Carole smiled. “Stevie’s going to say what she wants to say, and I’m going to say what I want to say.”

“We’re hoping she has some better jokes than
Moby Grape
,” Chloe added.

“Okay,” Stevie said. “Here’s one. Okay, so these three strings go into TD’s—”

“What’s TD’s?” Chloe asked.

“It’s an ice cream shop near where we live,” Stevie said. “If we ever get off this mountain, I’ll buy you a sundae there. So the three strings go into TD’s, and the waitress says, ‘I’m sorry, we don’t serve strings.’ And so the first string goes back to his friends and says, ‘Twist me up a little bit and unravel my ends.’ So they do, and he goes back up to the counter, and the waitress looks at him and says, ‘Aren’t you a string?’ ‘No,’ he says—”