Endurance Ride (2 page)

Stevie leaned forward and rummaged through the cooler. She pulled out a juice box and handed it to Lisa. “Here,” she said. “You have a parched look on your face.”

“Has anybody noticed the other riders?” Carole asked in an undertone. “Some of their equipment looks different.”

Stevie shook her head. The night before, there had been a big spaghetti dinner as preparation for the ride, but The Saddle Club hadn’t really talked to anyone outside their
group. There were nearly a hundred participants; last night, when they were all wearing blue jeans and eating pasta, everyone had looked pretty normal to Stevie.

“Everyone seems more relaxed than at a horse show,” Lisa observed.

“That’s because horse shows are all about winning,” Carole said. “I mean, I don’t think they are, but most people do. Endurance rides seem to be more about finishing.”

Lisa nodded. “I just want my belt buckle.” Everyone who completed the ride got one.

Phil sat down on the damp grass and leaned his head against the trailer. “So do I,” he said. He yawned. “I sort of wish we hadn’t stayed up so late last night. I have to admit, though, Stevie, your last ghost story was pretty funny.”

Stevie, Carole, and Lisa exchanged glances. They hadn’t wanted Max to know how long they’d sat around their campfire. It probably would have been smarter to have gotten some sleep.

Max rolled his eyes. “I heard you, believe me,” he said. “Tent walls aren’t that thick. If you had started singing, I would have come out and protested, but the ghost stories weren’t bad.”

They laughed. Max was a good but stern teacher, and he ran the stables with a firm hand. However, he was always
coming up with fun new activities, and he was very nice about most things.

“I’m getting used to no sleep at all, anyway,” he told Mr. Baker jokingly. “New baby. Maxi gets us up two or three times a night.”

“Then you’ll have an advantage over me,” Mr. Baker joked back. “I’m not used to being sleep deprived. But I figure you’ll have the advantage over me anyway—I saw that nippy little Arab you brought.”

“Ahhh,” Max said, as if admitting a great advantage. “Barq. Yes, Arabs are excellent endurance horses. The last several world champions, I believe, have been of Arabian descent.” He rubbed his hands together. “I think Barq will continue the noble tradition of the desert horse.”

“Is that why you chose Barq?” Lisa asked. She’d been wondering why Max had picked a plain lesson horse over one of his more elegant Thoroughbreds.

“Partially,” Max said, now serious. “Arabs tend to do well over rough trail, and they are easier to get fit than some breeds.”

“He didn’t want to work as hard as I’ve had to, getting poor Dominic ready for this,” Mr. Baker said mournfully. Dominic was his horse, an elegant and sweet-natured paint gelding. Paints were always descended from Thoroughbreds
or quarter horses, and they were always a mixture of two colors. Dominic was brown and white. He was beautiful, but he was a lot heavier than Barq. Carole could see why it might be harder to get him into shape.

“You’ll be eating our dust,” Max assured Mr. Baker, smiling broadly.

“Oh-ho!” Mr. Baker said. “We’ll have to see about that. I bet I’ll finish in better shape than your horse.”

“You personally?” Max asked.

“Of course me personally. I’ve been through rigorous training. I haven’t eaten a single cheeseburger in the last week.” Mr. Baker grinned.

“What a sacrifice!” Max exclaimed. “I’m sure I can’t beat you if you went to such great lengths to prepare.” He hung his head in mock defeat. The girls giggled.

Carole kept thinking about how a horse’s conformation might make it more or less suited to endurance riding. “Barq is built sort of like a marathon runner,” she said. “No, think about it, Stevie,” she added, when Stevie laughed. “In horse terms, Barq is more like a distance runner. Dominic is like a basketball player—big and strong but not too muscular. Prancer looks like a ballerina, and Belle would be … I don’t know …”

“Field hockey?” Stevie suggested. “Water polo?”

“Belle’s more like Prancer, but not quite as delicate,”
Carole persisted. “Starlight—he’s more of an all-around athlete. Like a decathlete. Teddy …” She paused, thinking of Phil’s chunky but athletic quarter horse. “He’s like a football player.”

“How did you know?” Phil asked in mock amazement. “I’ve been teaching him to play quarterback. I was going to surprise you at the next joint Pony Club meeting.” Everyone laughed, including Max and Mr. Baker.

“Come on, Stevie, I think Teddy will do better than Belle,” Phil continued. “In fact, I think we’ll beat you. Care to make a bet?”

Carole drew in her breath and rolled her eyes at Lisa. The only person on earth possibly more competitive than Stevie was Phil. Both always wanted to be first, best, and right. They had nearly broken up because of it several times.

“No,” Stevie said, with surprising firmness. “I’ve learned a lot about endurance riding lately, and I know enough to know that I’m not racing anybody. Belle and I have worked really hard, and I think she’s fit enough to do this comfortably,
but
I don’t think she’s fit enough, and I don’t think she’s experienced enough, to be racing anybody. Not even you. The people who do this all the time can go out and try to win. I just want to finish.”

Carole was so proud she nearly clapped. For once Stevie
had gotten the better of her natural competitiveness. The three of them, and Max, had been riding for miles every day for the past few weeks. Their horses were in good shape, but not as good as the horses that did this all the time.

“All kidding aside, Stevie’s right,” Max said. “We’re not trying to beat each other, Phil. Mr. Baker and I are kidding. We challenged each other to prepare for this ride, and to do it. Our challenge ends at the starting line.”

Phil looked frustrated. “Everybody is making too big of a deal out of this,” he said with a sidelong glance at Mr. Baker. “I ride Teddy almost every day, almost always on trails, for miles. I take him to Pony Club rallies. We jump. He’s in super shape.”

“I think a little more preparation might have helped you,” Mr. Baker told him solemnly.

Phil blushed and looked at the ground. Carole didn’t blame him; she knew how embarrassed she’d feel if Max ever had reason to say that to her. “I’d better check on Teddy,” Phil mumbled. He set his juice box down and headed for the stables. The girls trailed after him.

Phil went into Teddy’s stall. First he hugged his horse; then he gave the girls an angry look. “Look at him,” he said. “Do you see any fat? He’s pure muscle.”

“He looks great,” Lisa said honestly. It was true. Phil loved Teddy as much as any of them loved their horses, and he took excellent care of him. The gelding was a picture of health and contentment.

“Mr. Baker’s like Max,” Stevie said, trying to comfort Phil, “always wanting to teach things. I bet he just wanted you to understand how the really serious riders train their horses.”

“Sure, I understand it, I just don’t think I have to do it,” Phil retorted. “Look, how hard can this be? We’ve got twelve hours to go fifty miles. That’s barely more than four miles an hour. Horses walk faster than that. This is going to be
easy.”

“Don’t forget,” Lisa warned him. “The two vet checks are at least half an hour each.”

Phil rolled his eyes. The longer he looked at Teddy, the happier he seemed to get; he appeared to be forgetting Mr. Baker’s reprimand. “Okay, so we have to go four and a half miles an hour,” he said. “Big deal. Besides, I’m not trying to win. I’m really only trying to beat one rider—a certain person named Stevie Lake. And I think Teddy and I can do it.” He flashed his usual impish smile at Stevie.

“Look,” Stevie said, with a slight edge in her voice, “I think you’re being silly. I don’t want to race you, but if I
did, I know I’d beat you. Belle could beat Teddy in her sleep. All our training might not have been necessary, but I’m sure it helped.”

Lisa flashed an agonized look in Carole’s direction. Stevie’s competitiveness was making a comeback.

“You must not be that sure,” Phil said, “or you wouldn’t be backing out of a bet.”

“I’m not backing out, because I was never in,” Stevie said. “I don’t need to bet to know Belle’s the better horse. She’s going to beat Teddy by miles—and when she does, she’ll be in better shape than Teddy was when he got started.”

“Let’s go see if Max needs help with the tents,” Lisa suggested brightly. She had a sinking feeling about the direction Phil and Stevie’s conversation was taking. Diverting their attention seemed the only hope.

“Excuse me,” a young girl said.

They all turned around. A girl about their age, with brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and wearing a baggy sweatshirt, stood near them. She seemed upset about something.

“I’m Chloe,” she said. “I saw you guys last night, but I didn’t get to talk to you. My horse is stabled next to the bay over there—it says ‘Starlight’ on the card on the stall.”

“You’ve got the gray horse, then,” Carole said. “Starlight’s mine. I’m Carole Hanson.”

Chloe bobbed her head politely in Carole’s direction. “I’ve got a big favor to ask you,” she said. “See, my dad was coming on this ride—he was going to be my sponsor—but a few minutes ago his horse cut its coronet, so the horse can’t go, so my dad can’t go, so I can’t go, see?”

The Saddle Club nodded. Chloe needed an adult sponsor. The coronet was the ring of flesh just above a horse’s hoof, and even small cuts there could be serious.

“So I figured you guys must have a sponsor,” Chloe continued.

“Max, our riding instructor,” Lisa said. “And Mr. Baker, Phil’s instructor.”

“Do you think I could ride with you?” Chloe asked. “Could Max sponsor me? I know what I’m doing—I’ve already gone over a thousand miles.”

“W
OW
,” L
ISA SAID
, impressed. “You drove a thousand miles just to get to this ride? Where did you come from, Michigan?”

Carole elbowed Lisa in the ribs just as Chloe, despite her worried expression, started to laugh. Lisa looked puzzled. “She means miles of endurance rides,” Carole explained. To Chloe she added, “So, you’ve already finished twenty rides?”

“Not quite,” Chloe replied. “They weren’t all fifty-milers. I’ve done some hundred-mile rides, too.”

There was something in the way she spoke that was not quite bragging but was close. Of course, Carole thought, if
I’d done a zillion endurance rides, I’d be proud of myself, too. Still, she could see that Chloe’s laughter had made Lisa feel embarrassed.

“Do you want me to take you to Max?” Carole asked. “He’s over by our trailer.” She pointed to Max.

“The tall man in the baseball cap? I’ll go myself.” Chloe walked away.

“I just didn’t know what she meant,” Lisa said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stevie comforted her. “Neither did I.”

“Ah, yes, inexperienced riders,” Phil drawled. “Course, I think the horse is more important than the rider today.” He reached out to stroke Belle’s neck. “Poor Belle. Your rider doesn’t seem to have much confidence in you.”

“I’ve got all the confidence I need,” Stevie said, pushing Phil away from her horse and giving Belle a hug. “You’re annoying me, Phil, but I don’t care because I know my horse is definitely going to finish better than yours.”

“Is that a bet?” Phil asked.

“I’m not betting,” Stevie said, “but it’s a promise.”

Lisa sank her head into her hands. Stevie had just made a bet even if she didn’t call it that. She was going to try to beat Phil. “That’s the second thing we have to endure today,” she whispered to Carole. “Stevie and Phil trying to outdo each other.”

Carole looked puzzled. “What was the first thing?”

“Breakfast. No spoons. No milk.”

Carole shook her head. “Breakfast was the second thing. Sleeping in that wind tunnel was the first.”

Lisa laughed. The flap on their tent had been broken, and somehow they had been perfectly positioned so that every passing overnight breeze had blown inside.

Chloe came back down the aisle with a big grin on her face and Max at her heels. “I’m in!” she said. “Max said okay. My dad said okay. We’re all set.”

“Good!” Carole replied. It would be awful to prepare for a ride like this and then not be able to go.

“And don’t worry about anything,” Chloe said earnestly. “I’m only doing this as a prep for the Old Dominion Hundred-Mile Ride in a few weeks, so I really, honestly, truly don’t care how I finish. I’ll be able to teach you guys a lot.”

Lisa blinked. Her overall impression of Chloe was not good. First Chloe had laughed at her, and now she was almost saying that she expected The Saddle Club to do poorly. How could she say that when she didn’t even know them? How could she draw instant conclusions like that? Lisa was insulted.

Looking at the faces of her friends, Lisa could see that they felt the same way. Phil folded his arms across his
chest, Stevie looked indignant, and Carole looked stunned. Only Max looked normal. Maybe he was too old to feel insulted by a rider Chloe’s age.

“Why would you say that?” Carole asked stiffly. She didn’t know much about endurance riding, but she knew so much about other types of riding that she thought it sort of balanced out. Of course, Chloe wouldn’t understand that. But why would she assume they didn’t know much? It was rude.