Hayride (13 page)

When they had scrunched down, A.J. insisted on telling a couple of ghost stories. Having lived through a
real
ghost story at their friend Kate Devine’s ranch, The Saddle Club felt quite superior listening to the muffled shrieks around them. In case anyone was getting too scared, however, Carole told A.J. to think of something new. “And quit shining that flashlight under your chin,” she said.

A.J. wailed good-naturedly, “Aw, I was just getting going! I haven’t even gotten to the part about the rusty chain!”

Cam came to Carole’s rescue. He suggested they play a memory game with the letters of the alphabet. “I’ll start. It goes like this: My mother packed my trunk for camp, and she put in … an apple.”

“Oh, I know that one,” Betsy Cavanaugh piped up. “We used to play this on car trips. My mother packed my trunk for camp, and she put in an apple and … a birthday cake.” The other kids caught on quickly, chiming in on the different letters. The game got hysterical because no one could seem to remember past
H
or
J.

When they finally made it most of the way through the alphabet, Stevie jumped up. “All right, I’m warm—enough of this quiet fun. It’s time for the final round of ‘Smother the boys in hay’! Ladies, arm yourselves!” The boys put up a halfhearted protest but, for the most part, let themselves be smothered.

Before she knew it, Carole recognized the houses on her street. “We’re almost home,” she announced regretfully.

“Okay, one more song!” Tom Sanderson cried out. “And that’s ‘Happy Birthday’!” Everyone joined in, except for Carole, who sat on her hay bale beaming. All too soon the wagon had pulled up next to her house. Veronica jumped up like a bullet and ran to the front door. Simon panted after her. Other kids tumbled out of the back happily, stopping to thank Mr. Toll and pat the Clydesdales before going inside to the warm house. Carole
got out last. She stepped carefully, once again helped by Cam’s strong arms as support.

Together they said good-bye to Mr. Toll. This time he accepted Carole’s thanks. “Anytime, miss,” he said. Then he added gruffly, “That’s as nice a bunch as we’ve ever taken, eh, Dapper and Dan?” He slapped the traces on their backs and set off toward home.

As they watched him go, Cam gave Carole a hug. “It was perfect, wasn’t it?” Carole asked.

“And it’s not over yet, birthday girl,” Cam replied. Carole took the hand he offered and followed him into the house.

A
S SOON AS
they came back in, Carole knew what her father had been up to during the hayride. He had converted the family room into a disco in their absence. The stereo had been moved from the living room to the stand where the TV usually sat. The lights were dimmed, and the rug that normally covered the wood floor had been rolled up and stood in a corner. There was even a mirrored disco ball flashing specks on the walls.

“Oh, Dad!” Carole cried out.

“Surprise, honey,” Colonel Hanson said. “I borrowed the ball from the Officers’ Club on base. Now get that stereo going! You’re the disc jockey at Club Hanson tonight, and I want to see that floor packed with dancers.”
He led Carole over to the stereo. In front of it he had placed his leather desk chair and footstool. There was a stack of CDs on the TV table. Some belonged to the Hansons, and others had been brought by Carole’s friends.

Carole surveyed the music. She seized one of Cam’s discs off the top. “You want dancers? This’ll bring ’em out!” She put it in the CD player, turned up the volume, and waited to see what would happen.

“The Electric Slide! I love this!” Meg Roberts exclaimed.

“Me, too!” said Meg Durham. They jumped up, grabbing Bob, Lisa, Peter Schwartz, and Adam Levine. “Come on, we’ll teach you!” Meg Roberts said.

Carole smiled contentedly. Sure enough, in a matter of minutes the couches and chairs were completely vacated, and almost everyone was at least making an attempt to learn the dance. Even Veronica had gotten up—and was dancing as far away from Simon as she could.

When the song ended, Carole had another fast song ready to go, to keep up the momentum of the party. Cam was sitting beside her, helping sift through the discs. Carole didn’t want him to miss out on the fun. Just because she was stuck sitting didn’t mean he had to sit, too.

“Hey, you should be out there dancing,” she said. Cam shook his head.

“Really, I mean it,” Carole said. She was about to tell him that he could go ahead and dance with anyone he wanted—except Veronica; but then she glanced out at the “dance floor.” No one was dancing as pairs, anyway. The Electric Slide had set the tone for the evening. The whole party was dancing as a group and having a blast. They had made a huge circle, and every so often Phil or Stevie would call someone into the middle to do a solo. At the moment, John O’Brien was doing his imitation of a rapper while everyone cheered.

Simon Atherton was the only one who didn’t seem to get it. He kept trying to break out of the circle and dance over to Veronica. She, meanwhile, was holding on to James Spencer and Tom Sanderson as tightly as she possibly could.

Cam and Carole watched the scene together, laughing. Satisfied that he was having a good time with her, Carole turned back to the job of music selection. “Hmmm …” she wondered aloud. “What next?”

Stevie danced over to the stereo. “Carole! Play some fifties music Your dad and I are going to show everyone the Stroll and the Handjive!”

Carole laughed. Trust Stevie—who loved everything about the fifties—even to know the dances. She asked Cam to hand her Colonel Hanson’s “Greatest Hits from the Fifties.” Then they settled back to watch the fun. Stevie was really good. She could match Colonel Hanson
motion for motion. Pretty soon everyone tried. Then, to keep them on their toes, Carole switched to “YMCA.” Shouts of recognition and more enthusiastic dancing followed.

After a few more songs, Colonel Hanson interrupted, telling Carole he wanted to say something. He slowly faded the music out. “Okay, boys.” He nodded toward Phil and A.J., who picked up the table of presents. They brought it over to Carole ceremoniously and bowed to her. The other kids gathered in a group around her—all except for Veronica, who excused herself and went to the bathroom.

“I guess I’m supposed to open these, huh?” Carole asked. She began to unwrap the first package Colonel Hanson handed her, gingerly removing the paper from the box.

“Come on, Carole Hanson! You can do better than that!” Stevie yelled.

Carole grinned. “You’re right,” she said. In one motion she tore off all the paper and ribbons. Inside was the satin cross-country hat cover from the Sandersons. “I love it!” Carole breathed. She held it up for everyone to see. For the next twenty minutes Carole said the same thing about every gift she opened—and meant it. Her friends had been so thoughtful in picking things out. For horsey gifts she got the jumping bat from Phil and A.J., the braiding kit from Simon, a pair of silk glove-liners, a
calendar of the United States Equestrian Team, a package of premade horse treats, and two posters, one of racing Thoroughbreds, the other of a mare and foal. Her nonhorsey gifts were nice, too. There was some special German chocolate, a bunch of hair scrunchies, a mug with bubble bath in it, and a matching red scarf-and-gloves set. Carole felt as if she had said thank you a hundred million times, and there were still four gifts to go.

One was just an envelope. Carole opened it carefully. Two pieces of paper fell out. The first was a note. It said,
“Sorry we couldn’t be there for the party. We’re thinking of you, anyway. Love, Max and Mrs. Reg.”

“It’s from Max and Mrs. Reg,” Carole cried excitedly.

“They wanted to stop by tonight, but Mrs. Reg had to be in the city,” Colonel Hanson explained. “So they dropped that off this morning when you were still asleep.”

“What is it, anyway?” Lisa asked.

Carole looked at the other piece of paper. “It’s a gift certificate for ice-cream sundaes at TD’s!” she said. Then she quickly went on to her next present. Only Lisa, Stevie, and Carole knew exactly how perfect the gift certificate was, and none of them would want anyone else to feel left out.

The third-to-last gift was from Cam. Carole could easily recognize the handwriting on the card. She could also
tell what the gift was going to be—it felt unmistakably like a book. She opened it carefully. The paper fell away, and the title jumped out:
Training the Young Horse for Pleasure and Show
by Gordon Morse. It was the book Cam had been telling her about! Carole opened the cover. Inside Cam had written,
“To the smartest rider and trainer I know—and the nicest.”
Carole didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she just looked at Cam with shining eyes. Cam looked right back, just as intently.

Gently, Colonel Hanson nudged Carole back to reality. “Two more to go,” he whispered. Carole snapped back to attention. Of the two boxes left, one was medium-sized and flat, and the other was tiny and square.

“Go for the bigger one!” Phil urged. Stevie elbowed him. Phil laughed. “Whoops,” he said.

Carole took his advice. She tore off the paper, almost losing the little card attached. Quickly, she read it aloud: “ ‘
To Carole, Love, Dad
’—typical, gushy Hanson style, huh, Dad?”

Colonel Hanson chuckled, his eyes merry. “It says it all, right?”

Carole opened the box. “It’s me!” she blurted out. Inside was a framed eight-by-ten color picture of her and Starlight soaring over the double oxer on Pine Hollow’s outside course.

Carole reached over to hug her father. “I can’t wait to
put it on my dresser,” she said. “But where on earth did you get this, Dad?”

“I took it last summer—one day when I came early to pick you up,” Colonel Hanson explained.

“We want to see!” the two Megs clamored. Carole passed the picture.

“Starlight looks perfect!” A.J. cried.

“So does Carole!” said Meg Durham reprovingly. Carole blushed. Even she knew how great a picture it was. Meg and A.J. were both right: The picture had captured one of those rare moments when both horse and rider were exhibiting near-perfect form. Starlight’s knees were up and even, his ears were pricked, and his back was round, as he easily cleared the fence. Carole had released the reins correctly, and her knuckles were pressed firmly into Starlight’s crest. Her position was tight and workmanlike. They looked as if they could jump six feet, let alone three.

“Want to come take my picture sometime, Colonel Hanson?” A.J. asked playfully.

“Yeah, maybe you should quit the Marines and become a show photographer,” Helen joked.

“Beginner’s luck,” Colonel Hanson confessed.

By this point Lisa and Stevie were going out of their minds. They had watched patiently as Carole opened gift after gift without coming to the little box. Finally
there was nothing else left. She
had
to open it. They looked at each other and crossed their fingers.

“Oh, I almost forgot. This last one,” Carole said. She looked at the box and laughed. It had to be the fourth or fifth box she had received with the special Saddlery wrapping paper on it. Evidently, when it came to shopping for Carole,
everyone
knew where to go. She unwrapped it and lifted the little lid. The silver horseshoe earrings lay on the tissue, glowing like stars. They were absolutely beautiful. She didn’t even have to ask who had brought them. No one else could have chosen such a perfect gift. She looked up and smiled at Lisa and Stevie.

A
FTER THE FINAL
crumb of cake had disappeared, it was time for the party to end. Carole picked out a last disc and put on a slow song. She grabbed her crutches and followed Cam out onto the dance floor. Half-leaning on the crutches, and half-leaning on Cam, she could sort of dance. Other couples followed their example. Phil and Stevie, then Lisa and Bob, Betsy and James, and then the rest of the group joined Carole and Cam on the dance floor. Over Cam’s shoulder Carole smiled at the other girls. They all looked as happy as she felt. All of them, that is, except for Veronica. Having finally returned from the bathroom, she had found an all-too-eager Simon, waiting to slow-dance with his date. Veronica
kept trying to pull away and pretend it was a fast song, but this time there was no one to help her.

Cam heard Simon say, “Gosh, I know my hands are a
little
sweaty, but I’ll wipe them on my pants, Veronica, I promise.”

He almost felt a touch of pity for Veronica—almost. Then he remembered the phone call. It was a good thing Phil had figured out who had called him about Stevie’s “flirting” with Bob. Otherwise Cam might not have figured out
his
mysterious call. And he’d still be mad at Carole, for no reason other than Veronica’s interference. All thoughts of pity left him. Holding Carole a little tighter, he smiled happily as Simon chased Veronica out into the hall.

Carole sighed as the song came to a close. She didn’t want to lift her head from Cam’s shoulder. His strong arms encircled her protectively, making her feel safe and warm. Dancing with him was one of the very best birthday presents she could have asked for. It was almost as good as watching Veronica get what she deserved. Carole sighed again. She could pretend the song—and her birthday—were still going for a couple more minutes.