Hayride (12 page)

“At least you were able to come—with Simon,” Carole said sweetly, beginning to understand the situation.

“Darn right, with me!” Simon said. “Why, gosh, Carole, this practically makes you a matchmaker! This party is almost as good as a petri dish—you know, those things you grow bacteria in. See, Veronica and me—we’re like two pieces of bacteria …”

Veronica stared at him. She had an intense desire to tear his hair out and run screaming out the door. She looked away to calm herself. She saw Lisa and Bob sitting on the couch, sharing a piece of pizza. Phil and Stevie were sitting on the floor, arm-wrestling. All four looked completely happy together. Veronica caught Stevie’s eye. Stevie looked at her and then—meaningfully—at the telephone. Veronica drew in a sharp breath and looked away hastily. Stevie knew about the phone call to Phil!

“… and all the little bacterial
E. coli
keep growing and growing and—”

Carole broke into Simon’s monologue. “What about the note I left on Garnet’s stall door?” she asked Veronica.

With a sinking feeling Veronica groped around in her cream pocketbook and drew out the now crumpled note.
“This? Oh, I—uh—never looked at this, either,” she said brusquely. “I mean, really, a note on a stall door.”

“I wanted to be absolutely positive you got the invitation,” Carole said, putting on her best hostess smile. She told Veronica its contents, including the part about her ankle and her hope that she, Veronica, would exercise Starlight while Garnet was lame. “It just seemed like the logical solution, don’t you think?”

“Gosh, it sure seems superlogical to me,” Simon said. Both Carole and Veronica gave him a withering look.

Not meeting Carole’s eyes, Veronica said yes, she thought it was a good idea. She stared at the floor. How could she have known The Saddle Club would include her—even go out of their way to be friendly? She had totally misjudged them. She kept her eyes intently on the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her. She looked up when she heard the sound of a male voice. Cam had come over to see how Carole was doing and to offer her a chair.

“Actually,” Carole said, “I was about to come rescue you from my father. What’s he got you doing now?”

“We’ve been moving stereo equipment, but it’s a secret,” Cam whispered. He put his arm lightly around Carole’s shoulder to help her back to the sofa. She leaned on his strong frame.

Veronica stared after them.

Simon poked her in the ribs. “Cheer up, Ronnie, the party’s just beginning,” he said. Veronica glared at him.

“Lisa and Stevie, let’s get the rest of the pizza, okay?” Carole beckoned her two friends to follow her. In about two seconds The Saddle Club had convened in the kitchen, leaving Bob, Cam, and Phil to get to know one another better. The parents had finally cleared out, so the room was empty.

Stevie thumped Carole on the back. “Gosh, swell party, Carole—almost as swell as my trigonometry course, where we’re learning all about sine and cosine waves.”

“All right, all right,” Carole said, when the three of them had managed to stop giggling. “I think I know what happened, but somebody explain.”

Stevie’s face grew very solemn. She looked gravely at Lisa. “Lisa, I’m terribly sorry that Veronica has stolen the man of your dreams. But I guess you’ll just have to settle for Bob Harris.”

Lisa laughed. She looked excited and happy. “I can hardly believe Bob’s here—and that your plan worked. Veronica came with Simon because she thought
I’d
be jealous!” she said.

“I see you’ve been busy plotting while I’ve been out of commission, huh, Stevie?” Carole asked.

“It was Lisa’s idea!” Stevie protested. “Remember when she said that if we were lucky, Veronica and Simon
would entertain each other? Well, I just decided I’d make sure. Luckily, Veronica cooperated perfectly. She figured Simon Atherton was her chance to get back at The Saddle Club—”

“For not inviting her to the party!” Carole cried, now fully understanding. “She never got either of my invitations. She just wanted to crash a party she wasn’t invited to—with a stolen date!”

Stevie shook her head. “All that scheming for nothing. She’s probably disappointed that she
was
invited!”

Carole had to agree. “Knowing Veronica, she probably is.”

S
TEVIE LEANED BACK
into the cushions and groaned. “Oh, my aching stomach. I can’t eat another bite,” she pronounced to the group gathered around the couch.

Phil smiled at her wickedly. “Not even another chip? One more nacho? How ’bout a carrot stick?” he asked, waving the plate under her nose. Stevie groaned again. “A soda?” Phil offered.

“I’m never eating again as long as I live, Phil Marsten,” Stevie said.

Carole, sitting with Cam on the rug, reminded her with a grin, “Don’t forget—there’s still cake and ice cream when we come back.”

“Okay,” Stevie said. “I’m never eating again until the cake and ice cream,” she decided. Everyone laughed.

“Come back from where?” A.J. asked.

Carole was about to respond, but Cam put his finger to his lips. “Listen,” he said. Everyone quieted down and strained their ears toward the door. There was a jingle of bells, and then a man’s voice cried out, “Whoa, Dapper—whoa, Dan. Easy does it!”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was Santa Claus arriving a month early,” remarked Bob Harris. Everyone laughed again. They were all in such good moods that anything anyone said seemed to be incredibly funny. Lisa laughed particularly hard.

“Actually, Bob, you’re practically right,” Carole said. “If anyone looks like Santa Claus, it’s Mr. Toll. But I think that at seventeen hands, Dapper and Dan are a little bigger than the average reindeer.”

“The hayride! I was having so much fun, I forgot!” A.J. cried.

They could have stayed there forever laughing and joking, but Carole was thinking of the horses. She didn’t want them to get impatient. She called everyone to attention. “All right, gang. Let’s get our coats and move out.
Nobody
keeps Mr. Toll waiting.”

Colonel Hanson had had the same idea. He brought a pile of coats into the family room and began handing them out. In no time at all everyone was bundled up and trooping out the door, talking excitedly.

At the sight of the hay wagon, the group chatter
turned into
ooh
’s and
ah
’s. It was truly a beautiful scene. The huge wagon was piled high with hay bales. It had been freshly painted and gleamed in the dusk. The matched pair of bay Clydesdales stood calmly, champing on their bits and nosing each other every so often. Their powerful muscles shone with good care. As a special touch, someone had braided colorful yarn into their manes. Mr. Toll sat in the driver’s seat, holding the traces and looking off into the distance.

“He looks like he’s right out of the movies,” Lisa whispered to Bob.

“I’m so glad he’s real,” Bob said.

Clad in denim overalls and a plaid wool work shirt with a straw hat atop his head, Mr. Toll did look like a Hollywood version of the country farmer.

Carole was completely taken aback by the horses. Lost in wonder, she gazed at their gorgeous coats and their noble, liquid eyes. “Let’s go say hi,” Cam said, reading her thoughts. He helped her over to the wagon. Carole reached out and patted one of the horses.

“Is this Dapper or Dan?” she asked timidly. She wasn’t shy around the horses—it was Mr. Toll who made her feel awkward. He looked so stern!

“That’s Dan. Dapper’s a hand higher.”

“They’re so evenly matched. Are they related?” she asked.

Mr. Toll turned to look at her. He seemed surprised—but
pleased—at her interest in the horses. “Full brothers. Had their mother for twenty-six years. Finest Clydesdale brood mare in the state.”

“I’ll bet, with such beautiful offspring,” Cam put in.

Mr. Toll nodded. “Ayup,” he said. Carole could see the glint of pride in his eyes.

“The yarn looks lovely,” she said.

“My wife did that.”

“Thank you so much for taking us today.”

“No need to thank me now. Haven’t done anything yet,” Mr. Toll answered curtly.

Carole was at a loss for words for a moment. Then she decided the military treatment would work well. “All right, sir, I’ll thank you at the end, then.” She and Cam gave Dapper and Dan a few more pats before going to climb onto the wagon. While they’d been talking, the rest of the party had jumped on and were getting settled to go.

“Hey, wait a minute, miss,” Mr. Toll called. He picked up a stack of blankets from beside him. “Brought these—case it’s cold,” he said gruffly. He handed them to Cam.

Carole opened her mouth to say thank you. “Th—” Cam nudged her. She clamped her mouth shut. All thank-yous would have to wait till the end of the ride.

Cam helped Carole up into the wagon, then climbed up himself.

“Here, you guys!” Stevie cried. “We saved you a
bale!” She paused midthrow to gesture to Carole. Then she went back to attacking Phil and A.J. with handfuls of hay.

Once everyone had found a place to perch or sit—and Stevie and the boys had called a truce—Carole gave Mr. Toll the go-ahead.

“Not so fast!” Colonel Hanson yelled. He had been standing in the doorway, eagerly watching the proceedings. “You don’t think I’m going to miss getting a shot of this for the album, do you?” He held his camera up to his face. “Okay, everyone smile—and look like you mean it!” he ordered.

“That’s easy to do—I feel like my lips are set in a permanent smile, Colonel Hanson,” Phil called.

“All right, then—one, two, three!” He snapped the shot, gave Mr. Toll the thumbs-up, and waved. Carole had asked her father earlier to join them on the hayride, but he had refused, saying he had stuff to do at the house. She couldn’t imagine what, but had a hunch it just might have something to do with her birthday. She waved back just as Mr. Toll clicked his teeth and slapped the traces on Dapper’s and Dan’s backs.

Everyone gave a big cheer as the horses set off down the country road. The long-awaited hayride had begun!

L
OOKING AROUND AT
the animated faces of her friends, Carole had to smile. It was funny—all week long she
and Stevie and Lisa had been thinking of almost nothing except who was going to sit next to whom, and who was dating whom, and who was going to smooch with whom during the course of the hayride. It wasn’t turning out like that at all. Instead it was turning out to be a big bunch of friends having more fun than they could have imagined as they were pulled through town by a horse-drawn hay wagon. People stood or sat in groups of three and four, sometimes with their dates for the evening but other times not. Anyway, Carole thought, looking at the stiff back of their driver, no one in their right mind would risk being caught kissing by Mr. Toll!

Stevie caught Carole’s glance and smiled back. The laughter and happy chatter were infectious. Stevie wanted to shout aloud for sheer joy. There was nothing like being one of twenty kids who were all having a wonderful time. Check that, Stevie thought, eyeing Veronica and Simon, make that nineteen kids having a wonderful time. Having won Simon’s heart, Veronica could not shake him. He seemed to have decided that the hayride would be the perfect opportunity to tell her finally all about his hobbies. He had finished the growth and development of
E. coli
bacteria and moved on to stamp collecting.

As far as Stevie could tell, stamp collecting was not one of Veronica’s great interests. Seeing the expression on Veronica’s face, Stevie whispered to Lisa, “Looks like
Simon Atherton is so boring, he can even make something as incredibly exciting as stamp collecting sound dull.”

Lisa looked over at the pair and had to stifle a chuckle. They really were a match made in heaven—with a little assistance from Stevie Lake.

“So then I saw the exceedingly rare double-eagle at an exhibition, but, alas, I was sidetracked by a beautiful collection from the Philippines, which ironically turned out to be worth less than a pair of sweaty gym socks because all the stamps had been canceled. You’re probably wondering whether—”

While Simon droned on, the rest of the group had begun to sing camp songs. Helen and Tom Sanderson, known for their beautiful singing voices, were leading everyone in “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” Veronica looked around unhappily. For once she found herself wishing she could join the group.

“—while, on the other hand, the Stamp Act of the eighteenth century had nothing to do with—”

In desperation Veronica opened her mouth wide and yawned loudly in Simon’s face. To her dismay Simon yawned back happily. “Gosh, that’s pretty funny, huh, Ronnie, how yawns are contagious. Of course, the lack of oxygen, which triggers the response of opening the mouth, can’t scientifically be explained by—”

Veronica regarded Simon with revulsion.

*   *   *

T
HE EVENING HAD
turned into a perfect night. The rays of the half-moon shone down, helping the pale orange streetlamps illuminate the night. The first stars had just appeared over the horizon and were glowing brilliantly.

One by one the group sang through all the popular songs they knew. Their voices rang out into the cool night air. The horses’ steady walk was like a metronome ticking to keep the rhythm steady. Neighbors came out and stood on their doorsteps when they heard the singing. Some waved or joined in until the wagon had gone by. Mr. Toll doffed his hat as they passed. When it got too chilly, they stopped singing. Everyone bunched together and burrowed under the hay to keep warm. Lisa handed out the wool blankets that Mr. Toll had provided.