Hayride (14 page)

C
OLONEL
H
ANSON RAPPED
lightly on Carole’s bedroom door. “Anyone for pancakes?” he whispered. Three bodies in sleeping bags on the floor stirred slightly.

“What time is it?” Stevie asked hoarsely. She, Lisa, and Carole had been up most of the night rehashing the events of the day before.

“Eleven-thirty,” Colonel Hanson said.

“In the morning?” Lisa asked, struggling to sit up.

“That’s right,” Colonel Hanson said with a chuckle. “And I have a feeling it might take you three a little while to make it downstairs, so I’ll keep everything hot.” He closed the door gently.

“Thanks, Dad,” Carole called after him, wondering if she was still dreaming or if that had really been her
father. She rubbed her eyes. Beside her Stevie and Lisa had lain back down in their sleeping bags. Then Carole remembered. “I insisted on sleeping on the floor with you guys, didn’t I?”

“Actually,” Lisa said, with her eyes still closed, “you didn’t have much choice, considering that you fell asleep midsentence.”

“Oh, yeah?” Carole countered. “What sentence was that?”

“It was, ‘And the hundredth reason Cam is so perfect is that—’ ”

Carole interrupted her friend by whacking her soundly with a pillow.

“Funny,” Carole said, “I remember hearing about the
thousandth
reason that Bob Harris is the ideal boyfriend.”

Stevie sat up again. “You’re both wrong. I mean, we all
know
that there are a
million
reasons why Phil Marsten is—” Before she could finish, both Lisa and Carole had pounced, and an all-out pillow-sleeping bag-blanket war erupted.

A few minutes later the three girls lay back, happy and winded. “I didn’t know I had that much energy left,” Lisa said.

“Me either. How late
did
we go to sleep?” Stevie questioned.

Carole grimaced. “Don’t ask. Your parents might have to sue my father if they found out.”

“Oh, Colonel Hanson’s in the clear. He did tell us to stop talking five or six times. It’s just that we outlasted him,” Lisa said.

“I guess that’s why he’s up now, making pancakes for us,” Carole said. “He did say something about pancakes, didn’t he?”

Lisa and Stevie assured her that breakfast was awaiting them. Carole thought back to a week ago when she’d been eating pancakes with her father. It had been one of the fullest weeks she’d had in a long time. First, the sprained ankle—and her silly decision to pretend it didn’t hurt. But then the party had come and simply made her forget about everything else except having a wonderful time. Every moment of it had been special, from decorating with The Saddle Club to dancing with Cam. It was impossible to say what part was the best!

“So are you going to see him again?” Carole heard Stevie ask Lisa as she tuned back in to the conversation.

Lisa nodded. “He’s even nicer than I imagined. He mentioned something about the six of us maybe doing something.”

“Of course!” Stevie cried. “A triple date! And now that Bob, Phil, and Cam are practically best friends, thanks to the party, it’ll be perfect. It sure was a great party, Carole,” she continued. “I guess my favorite part was when Veronica and Simon ran into your father as they were running into the hall. He told them to get
right back into the family room. I think he probably thought they were trying to sneak off and make out!”

Lisa giggled. “If he only knew how hard Veronica was trying to
escape
Simon.”

“You know she didn’t even get me a present?” Carole remarked. “She hid in the bathroom the whole time I was opening them.”

“She probably thought you’d have kicked her out by the time you got to opening the presents,” Lisa guessed.

“But instead she had to spend the whole night with her charming date,” Stevie pointed out cheerfully. “Okay, girls, let’s get up.”

Slowly The Saddle Club rose from the floor of Carole’s bedroom. They looked at themselves in the mirror and laughed. Their hair was going every which way, and they all had circles under their eyes.

“So much for beauty rest,” Lisa said. “We look scarier than Veronica when she found out she
was
invited.” Laughing, the three of them began to straighten up the room and look for their clothes.

“You know,” Carole said seriously, pulling on an acceptably clean pair of jeans, “we really owe one to Phil for noticing right off who it was who called him. Cam told me last night all about Veronica’s plans to break
us
up.”

“I guess that’s just one more reason why Phil is the best boyfriend in the world, huh?” Stevie joked.

Carole smiled. “One more comment like that, and we may have to fix you up with Simon Atherton, eh, Lisa?”

“But you wouldn’t want to try to break up him and Veronica,” Stevie pointed out. “Veronica really deserves Simon.”

“I’m sorry I ever invited her,” Carole said. “And I’m even sorrier I ever asked her to exercise Starlight. After all that, Max told Dad that Red’s been
hoping
I’d
let
him ride Starlight—he likes him so much. Of course, the reason I didn’t want to ask him in the first place was that I didn’t want to be like Veronica. Anyway,
she’ll
never lay a finger on him now,” Carole vowed.

“Phew,” Stevie sighed. “I was getting worried for a minute that you’d gone over to
her
side.”

“Hardly. I just wish I could take back being nice to her,” Carole said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stevie said. “Almost the worst punishment that Veronica could receive is being treated well by one of us.”

“Stevie’s right,” Lisa chimed in. “It probably made her feel like a worm—and nothing should give us more pleasure than having Veronica diAngelo feel like a worm.”

Carole nodded in agreement with her friends. “True,” she said. She paused a moment. “Unless it’s watching Veronica diAngelo have another date with Simon Atherton,” she added.

“Gosh darn it!” Stevie cried. “You’re right!”

B
ONNIE
B
RYANT
is the author of many books for young readers, including novelizations of movie hits such as
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
^®
and
Honey
,
I Blew Up the Kid
, written under her married name, B. B. Hiller.

Ms. Bryant began writing The Saddle Club in 1986. Although she had done some riding before that, she intensified her studies then and found herself learning right along with her characters Stevie, Carole, and Lisa. She claims that they are all much better riders than she is.

Ms. Bryant was born and raised in New York City. She still lives there, in Greenwich Village, with her two sons.