English Horse (11 page)

“Miles,” Veronica interrupted. She looked truly annoyed. “I thought you wanted to talk to Max about bringing your friends riding this weekend. We really should go find him.”

Miles nodded agreeably. “Okay,” he told Veronica. But he paused to explain to the other girls. “A bunch of guys are coming down—friends of mine from the stable where I rode back home in Pennsylvania. They’re staying for the weekend, and I thought I’d bring them here for a trail ride if it’s okay with Max.”

“That sounds nice,” Lisa said. “I’m sure Max won’t mind a bit.” She was glad Miles was being so friendly and not just because it was driving Veronica crazy. She hoped it also meant that he and his grandmother really weren’t still mad about the water balloon attack.

Tessa nodded. “There’s just one problem,” she joked
brightly. “Once your friends ride here, they’ll probably never want to go home.”

“Oh, really?” Veronica said in a nasty tone. “I hope that’s not the case with you, Tessa. By the way, your shirt’s missing a button.” With that, she flounced out of the room.

Tessa glanced down at the front of her shirt. Meanwhile Miles looked a little surprised, but he didn’t say anything about Veronica’s rude comments. “Well, good-bye, all,” he said lamely, backing out of the room. He grinned weakly. “Cheerio, as they say in England.”

“Do they really say that in England?” Lisa asked once Miles had disappeared.

Tessa didn’t answer. She was fingering the empty buttonhole near the bottom of her shirt and staring into space with narrowed eyes. “That girl really gets my goat,” she muttered.

“No kidding,” Stevie said wholeheartedly. “It’s bad enough when she insults us. How dare she be so obnoxious to you? We’ve got to put a stop to it.”

Just then Max walked past the open doorway. When he noticed The Saddle Club, he paused. “If you girls are bored, there are some stalls that could use a good cleaning,” he said warningly. “And the grain has to be mixed for next week, and the pony harness hasn’t been oiled in a while …”

“Oh, we’re not bored, Max,” Stevie said. Max hated seeing his riders standing around doing nothing when
there was always so much to be done around the stable. If they didn’t act fast, he would set them to work on an endless string of stable chores—guest or no guest. She quickly grabbed Belle’s bridle off the wall behind her. “We were just on our way out to practice for the point-to-point.”
Even though Tessa can’t even ride in it now
, she added in her head. She gave Max her most winning smile.

“Well, all right then,” Max said, watching as the other girls also began gathering their tack. “As long as you’re keeping busy.” He continued on his way.

Lisa let out a sigh of relief. “That was close,” she said, rubbing a spot of lint off Derby’s browband. She glanced at Stevie. “And by the way, in case you’ve forgotten,
that’s
why we can’t put a stop to Veronica’s reign of terror. If we do anything to get back at her, she’ll tattle.”

“And then we can all kiss the point-to-point good-bye,” Carole added, hoisting Starlight’s saddle off its rack.

Stevie sighed. “I guess you’re right,” she muttered, looking unhappy. “If we get banned, Veronica wins—no matter what we do.”

“You know,” Tessa said slowly, “if you think about it, you three are the only ones in danger here. I’m not on probation, am I?”

Carole pretended to be insulted. “Hey, what happened to The Saddle Club motto—all for one and one for all?”

“I thought that was the motto of the Three Musketeers,” Lisa put in.

Tessa grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m not abandoning you,”
she said. “Quite the contrary. It just occurred to me—there’s nothing to say that I couldn’t do something myself to get back at Veronica. It just can’t be anything that could be blamed on the three of you. Right?”

“Right,” Stevie said, looking intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know yet,” Tessa admitted. She grinned and tapped her forehead with one finger. “But from this moment on, the British branch of The Saddle Club is on the case.”

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Stevie looked up from Belle’s water bucket, listening to footsteps coming down the aisle. A moment later Lisa and Tessa poked their heads into the stall.

“Did you think of anything?” Stevie demanded eagerly. Tessa laughed. “Is that how you greet all your friends?” she asked.

Stevie grinned. “Nope,” she replied, hanging the bucket carefully in its spot on the side wall of Belle’s stall. “Just the ones who are going to save us from you-know-who.” She winked and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Veronica’s in Danny’s stall.”

Lisa glanced down the aisle and rolled her eyes. “Ugh. You mean we might actually run into her?”

“Only if we’re unlucky,” Stevie said. She returned her voice to its normal level. “So when is your mom expecting us?”

“An hour ago,” Lisa replied. “But that’s okay. I told her we’d be there as soon as we finished up here.” The four girls had agreed to spend the day helping Mrs. Atwood with her plans for the point-to-point. After her error regarding the course map, she was more nervous than ever about her duties—especially the ones that had anything to do with horses.

“Where’s Carole?” Tessa asked, glancing into Starlight’s stall, which was right next to Belle’s. The friendly bay was watching them curiously, munching on a mouthful of fresh hay. There was no sign of his owner.

“Out in the grain shed, I think,” Stevie said, letting herself out of the stall. “Belle’s all set. I’ll go see if Carole’s almost ready while you guys check on Prancer and Topside.”

“And Derby,” Lisa added. She chuckled. “Until after the point-to-point, I’m on double duty.”

Stevie nodded and headed down the aisle. After a few steps, she stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she called to the others. “I talked to Phil last night. He wants to get together tomorrow. I thought we could all meet at that new pizza place, Papa’s, after lessons. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me,” Lisa called back.

Tessa gave a thumbs-up sign. “I can’t wait to meet him,” she added.

Stevie smiled as she turned to continue on her way. Her gaze fell on Danny’s stall. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw Veronica ducking out of sight behind the stall door.

Stevie rolled her eyes. Whatever Veronica was up to, she couldn’t care less. Tessa would deal with her soon enough. Whistling off-key, Stevie went to find Carole.

“W
OW
,” C
AROLE SAID
several hours later. She leaned back in her seat at the Atwoods’ dining room table and wearily pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Who knew being a member of the country club was so much work?”

Stevie looked up from the Parking sign she was lettering. “What do you mean?” she said. “
We’re
the ones doing all the work here. And none of us are members.”

Tessa laughed. “Come now, Stevie,” she chided. “You know very well that Mrs. Atwood has been working like a demon. At least she has since I’ve been here. I’ve barely seen her.”

Lisa nodded. Tessa was right. Now that she thought about it, it was probably lucky for The Saddle Club that the point-to-point fell at the end of Tessa’s visit. Otherwise they probably would have had to endure a lot more tea parties with her mother.

She pushed her chair back. She had rolled the desk with the family’s computer on it into the dining room to be able to work with her friends. Her mother had asked her to update and alphabetize some of the lists and charts
for the point-to-point. There were the entrants, the prize sponsors, the presenters, the fence judges … Lisa couldn’t believe how much information went into a seemingly simple day of races.

“It’s hard to believe Max plans events at Pine Hollow all the time,” she mused, stretching her arms above her head to rest her back. “Gymkhanas, Pony Club rallies, all those sorts of things.”

Carole looked up. “He doesn’t do it all alone,” she pointed out. “He has lots of help. Mrs. Reg, Red, Deborah …” Deborah was Max’s wife.

“And us,” Stevie added, capping the pen she was using. “We always help him. Just like we’re helping your mom now.”

At that moment the doorbell rang. “I’d better get that,” Lisa said. “I think Mom’s on the phone.”

She got up and headed for the front door. When she swung it open, she saw a short, stocky man in a dark uniform standing on the front steps. He looked vaguely familiar, but for a moment Lisa couldn’t place him. “Can I help you?” she asked politely.

The man gave a little bow. He was holding an ivory-colored envelope in one hand. “Good day, miss,” he said in a formal tone. “I have a message for a Miss Theresa from Mrs. diAngelo.”

Suddenly Lisa remembered where she had seen the little man before—behind the wheel of the diAngelos’ shiny black Mercedes. He was their chauffeur. She glanced out
over the front yard and saw the big car parked at the curb. “A message for Tessa?” she repeated. “Okay, thanks. I’ll give it to her.”

The chauffeur handed the envelope over with a flourish, bowed once more, and turned to go.

As Lisa closed the door behind him, she cast a curious look at the envelope. Tessa’s name was written on the front in curly script.

“Who was that, dear?” Mrs. Atwood’s voice came from nearby.

Lisa looked up and saw her mother hurrying down the stairs. “The diAngelos’ chauffeur just dropped off an envelope for Tessa,” she said. “I guess it must be something about her judging or something.”

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Atwood said. “Well, you’d better give it to her so she can open it right away. It’s probably important.”

Lisa hurried into the dining room with her mother on her heels. She handed Tessa the envelope, explaining where it had come from.

“Weird,” Stevie said. “Are you sure it’s from Mrs. diAngelo and not Veronica? Because it might be a letter bomb or something.”

Mrs. Atwood shot Stevie a disapproving glance, then smiled at Tessa. “Open it, dear,” she urged.

Tessa slit the envelope open with the pencil she had been using. She pulled out a piece of thick paper the same color as the envelope and scanned it. “Oh,” she said
flatly. “There’s a meeting of all the judges at the diAngelos’ house. Tomorrow afternoon.”

Stevie glanced over her shoulder and gasped. “But it starts at almost the exact same time we’re supposed to meet Phil!” she protested.

Tessa nodded. “I’ll have to call Mrs. diAngelo and tell her I can’t make it.”

Mrs. Atwood looked shocked. “Oh, you mustn’t do that!” she exclaimed. “I’m sure the meeting won’t take long. And your friends will understand if you’re a little late for your pizza party.” She frowned slightly. “I don’t remember hearing about a judges’ meeting,” she muttered. “I must have forgotten to put it on my schedule.”

Tessa was looking at the note again. “There’s a dress code,” she said. “There’s a line at the end saying I should wear whatever I’m planning to wear to the judges’ reception afterward, so they can make sure it’s appropriate for this sort of social event.” She grimaced. “Whatever that means.”

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Atwood said, her hands fluttering worriedly. “I do hope you’ve brought something that will do, Tessa. If not, I’m sure we could squeeze in a quick trip to the mall, and—”

“No, no,” Tessa broke in hurriedly. “Mum packed my suitcase, and she always throws in everything but the kitchen sink. I’m sure there’s a nice dress or two in there.”

“Does that mean you’re going?” Stevie was dismayed. “But Phil—”

“Of course she’s going,” Mrs. Atwood said firmly. “I’m sure she’ll be finished in plenty of time for pizza. I’ll pick her up and drive her there myself if you like.”

“It’s all right, Stevie,” Tessa said. “Phil won’t mind if I’m a bit late, will he?”

“I guess not,” Stevie said. But she didn’t sound very happy about it.

“Good.” Mrs. Atwood seemed relieved. “Would you like me to call Mrs. diAngelo for you and confirm?”

“That’s all right,” Tessa said politely. “I can do it. The number’s right here on the note.” She headed for the kitchen.

Lisa followed her. “What a bummer,” she said as Tessa picked up the receiver. “Leave it to a diAngelo to mess up our plans.”

“At least the meeting’s not on Friday. That would mess things up even more,” Tessa said. The Saddle Club had been planning all week to take Tessa into nearby Washington, D. C., on Friday to show her the sights. “Stay here while I call,” she added. “If Mrs. diAngelo’s anything like her daughter, I may need moral support.”

Lisa grinned and leaned on the counter beside Tessa. She was close enough to hear when Veronica answered on the other end of the line. “Yes?”

Tessa cleared her throat. “Er, Veronica?” she said in her
most polite voice. “This is Tessa. I was wondering—is your mum in?”

Lisa leaned closer so that she wouldn’t miss anything.

“My what?” Veronica replied. “Oh. You must mean my mom.” She stressed the vowel. “What do you want to talk to her for?” She switched to an exaggerated baby voice. “Are you going to tell her I was mean to you?”

Lisa gritted her teeth. Somehow Tessa maintained her polite, cheerful tone. “Actually, she asked me to come to a meeting of the judges for the point-to-point,” she explained. “I was just calling to confirm.”