High Horse (6 page)

“I guess you never want to use that sleeping bag again,” Lisa said.

“Huh?”

“You’ll never be able to untie those knots.”

Stevie looked down. It was true. She had tied several tight knots. She would definitely have a problem with them later. But that was later, this was now.

Outside the rain was really coming down now. We’ll need rain gear for today’s trail ride, Stevie decided. That is, if we can still go.

Stevie went over to her knapsack and rummaged in it, looking for rain gear. She found her hooded rain jacket and her boots. But she seemed to have forgotten her rain pants. She could visualize the rain pants perfectly. They were green, the same color as her jacket, and, she recalled with a sigh, they were lying
on her bed at home. Great! Her
bed
would stay dry all day.

“I forgot my rain pants,” she said.

“You can use my extra pair,” Lisa said. Her duffel bag was gigantic. The day before, everyone had joked that Lisa must be starting off on a really long trip—like to Mars, but it wasn’t Lisa’s fault. Her mother never let Lisa go anywhere without a month’s supply of clothes.

“You have extra rain pants?” Stevie said, looking at the blue rain pants Lisa was holding out to her.

Lisa nodded.

“Your mother thought maybe you would grow an extra set of legs?”

“You never know.”

The two of them collapsed into giggles at this, and Stevie thought that it was good to know that even in the middle of the worst rainstorm of the century, The Saddle Club still had a sense of humor.

When they lifted the tent flap, they saw that the rain was even worse than it sounded. It was coming down in long diagonal sheets. The stream that ran along the side of the clearing had disappeared, because now everything was a stream. The new spring grass was squashed.

Red O’Malley came over and suggested that they make a fire.

“In this?” Stevie said, staring at the rain.

“There’s a dry spot,” Red said, pointing to a spot that was sheltered from the rain by an overhanging rock.

“But the firewood we gathered must be wet,” Stevie said.

Red grinned and shook his head. “The minute the rain started, I moved it into my tent.” He lifted the flap of his tent to show the wood neatly stacked against the back. “Go ahead,” he said. “You can build a great fire.”

Stevie groaned. “There’s only one problem. We don’t have any kindling.”

She turned to look at the pine forest. It was filled with fallen branches and pine cones. There was lots and lots of kindling. Unfortunately, it was soaking wet.

Veronica joined them. “Too bad you burned all those pine cones, Stevie,” she said in a nasty tone. “What are we going to do now?”

For once Stevie didn’t know what to say to her.

When Carole got to Amie and Jackie’s tent, she raised the flap. The two girls were huddled inside, still in their pajamas, looking cold and scared. She had
offered to keep them company last night, but they had indignantly refused, saying they weren’t babies. Now they looked like miserable, damp kittens.

“Hey, guys,” Carole said, giving them a smile. “Let’s get things organized. No more of this lazing around.”

The girls jumped up eagerly and started pulling out their clothes and rain gear. They looked happy that someone had come to rescue them.

Half an hour later all the MTO riders were standing under an oak tree with water running down their hoods, off their shoulders, down their legs.

“Sorry, guys,” Stevie said. “No fire this morning.”

“My fingers are cold,” Amie said.

“My teeth are cold,” Jackie said.

“My boots are full of water,” Liam said.

Max said, “No Morning Madness for breakfast this morning.” He passed out containers of orange juice and milk. Then he opened a box of granola bars. “Everyone take three and put two in your pocket—a dry pocket—for later.”

A damp granola bar, Stevie thought. Just what everyone wants for breakfast. She started toward Phil to explain that she hadn’t meant this to happen. But before she could get to him, Betsy appeared at his side and said, “I think this is kind of exciting.”

“Wet feet are truly exciting,” Phil said, but he was grinning. He raised his granola bar to Betsy as if he were making a toast.

Max turned to Red O’Malley. “It’s evident that there won’t be any riding today. Why don’t you drive the younger riders into town this morning. I think some hot chocolate is in order.”

“Yes!” Amie and Jackie gave each other high fives.

“Experienced riders over here,” Max said. Seven bedraggled riders walked over to a spot next to the giant pine. “The trails have turned to creeks,” he told them.

“How are the horses?” Carole asked. Stevie chuckled, in spite of the situation with Phil. It was just like Carole to think of the horses. In fact Stevie was surprised she hadn’t checked on them first thing this morning before heading to Amie and Jackie’s tent.

“They’re fine,” Max replied. “Phil and Joe helped me place rain sheets over their blankets, and none of them has stiffened. But we can’t ride them until the rain stops.”

“Great,” Veronica said. “So we stay here and watch it drip.” Stevie noticed that Veronica had a hooded raincoat with a monogram on the pocket and matching rain boots. Her black hair was shining and neat. Veronica would be well groomed even in a tornado.

“You can do that,” Max said. “Or you can go for a walk. If you head back to the road and walk south half a mile, you’ll pick up the Appalachian Trail. There’s a six-mile walk to Hawks’ Roost, the highest point on the mountain.”

“Great, so we’ll get a better view of the rain.” Veronica sniffed. “I think I’ll pass.”

Max shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

“I’ll stay at the campsite, too,” Lisa said. Carole and Stevie looked at her in surprise. Lisa loved adventure. And she loved being with other Saddle Club members. “I’ll just hang out,” she said.

Only five riders—Phil, Betsy, Carole, Stevie, and Joe—decided to take the walk. As they set off from camp toward the road, Phil took the lead because he had visited Silverado State Forest before and knew the trails.

“It’s an excellent path,” he said. “You won’t have any trouble with it if you watch your step.”

“I love rain,” Betsy said. “It makes me feel sad. You know, like
triste
. That’s the French word for ‘sad,’ except it means more than sad. It means romantically sad.” She looked in Phil’s direction.

Stevie kicked a rock, which bounced off a tree. She wished she knew the French word for “bimbo.”

Joe Novick watched the rock ricochet; then he glanced at her. “You okay, Stevie?”

“Terrific,” she muttered.

As they walked along the trail, Stevie noticed that the dirt was covered with tiny new leaves that had been torn off the trees by the rain. Stevie leaned over and picked one up. It was the size of her thumbnail. Thanks to the storm, it would never get any bigger. There’s something
triste
about that, she mused, then giggled out loud. At least she still had her sense of humor.

The center of the trail had turned into a brook, so they had to walk with one foot on either side of the water. This proved tricky because the earth was slick. As she negotiated one particularly wide spot along the trail, Stevie lost her footing. Instinctively she threw her arms out, reaching for the person who was directly in front of her.

Joe Novick turned to catch her, and for a second or two the two of them slithered sideways with their arms around each other. Finally Stevie managed to regain her balance. Quickly she disentangled herself from Joe. “Thanks,” she said. “Now I see why Max was worried about the horses on these trails. They’re really slippery.”

The other riders had stopped to wait for the two of them.

“You okay?” Carole called out.

“Yup,” Stevie answered. She glanced at Phil, expecting him to be concerned, too. But instead he looked annoyed.

“Ready?” he asked impatiently.

Stevie nodded, feeling hurt all over again, and the five of them stumbled on through the rain. Beside the path pale-pink mountain laurel petals lay scattered on the wet ground.

They passed a stand of brush that was all shades of purple from dark to lavender. “Those are blackberries,” Phil called back over his shoulder. “They look nice, but look out for the thorns.”

He led them into the yard of an abandoned farm. The house had vanished, leaving only a stone foundation and a scrolled metal gate. But the barn was still there, and in good condition with a second-story overhang. Phil stood under it and called back to the rest of them. “Come on and take a breather. There’s a steep climb ahead.”

Betsy scooted in next to him, and Carole and Joe lined up next to them. Stevie stood apart from the others, watching the rain pound the old wrought-iron gate. If the conditions weren’t so bad, she’d be
tempted to turn back to camp. But there was another piece of her that didn’t want to be defeated so easily. She’d been waiting to go to this MTO for a whole year—was she really going to let Phil and Betsy ruin it for her?

As it turned out, Phil hadn’t been kidding about the climb. When they started out again, the path turned stony and rose steeply over slippery rocks. Stevie, being last, walked in a shower of pebbles.

The campers climbed hard, grasping branches along the incline. Then suddenly the sky was bright. It hadn’t stopped raining, but there was an odd silver light.

Phil was standing on a lookout carved into a rock. To Stevie’s surprise he gestured for her to join him. As she got close, Stevie couldn’t help but notice how green Phil’s eyes were and how his hair was black with rain.

“Look at that,” he said, pointing toward the west where Stevie could see the dim shapes of mountains. “There’s good weather over there.”

“How do you know?”

“There’s light shining through thin patches in the clouds.”

“Wow,” Stevie said. “You can read the weather.”

Phil looked at her. Was he thinking what she was
thinking? she wondered. Was he wishing they were alone together?

“It’s soooo romantic,” said Betsy, popping up between them.

“Yeah,” Stevie muttered. “It’s totally
triste
.”

L
ISA HAD DECIDED
to stay behind at the campsite because she had so much to enter in her journal. She was especially eager to capture the way Stevie had reacted to the game of charades and the way Carole was handling Amie and Jackie.

Mr. Haegle had told Lisa to write two hundred fifty words a day. But two hundred fifty words weren’t nearly enough, she decided. She was in the middle of her third page when Max stuck his head into the tent.

Max looked worried. “The horses are getting restless,” he said. “Especially Teddy. It looks like he might spook the others. Can you come and help?”

Lisa stood up. She knew what Max meant. When horses got panicky, they were almost impossible to control. They could buck and run or even jump a fence and take off. It was a real danger, because a spooked horse could easily injure herself or her rider.

Anything could happen during weather like this. Max needed her help. Lisa tossed the diary aside and reached for her rain gear.

C
AROLE
’
S LESSON FOR
Amie and Jackie was that horses are herd animals—if they aren’t with their companions, they pine and sometimes even die. Meanwhile, as Carole was going on about this, Jackie and Amie were sneaking looks at the other riders around the campfire, longing to join them. Carole noticed that Jackie and Amie weren’t paying attention, so what did she do? She told them to stop fooling around
.

If Amie and Jackie had been horses, Carole would have noticed immediately that they wanted to be with their friends. Since they were human, she missed it entirely
.

The same thing happened this morning. Carole informed Jackie and Amie that in a way they were lucky it
was raining. That way they’d have more time to learn about horses. The only thing that saved them was when Max announced that Red O’Malley was taking the younger riders to town for hot chocolate
.

Stevie chuckled. No question but that Lisa had Carole’s number.

When Stevie had come into the tent a few minutes earlier, looking for a dry sweater, she had happened to notice the journal lying open on Lisa’s bedroll. Stevie had also happened to see Carole’s name, so of course she had to look. Now Stevie knew she should stop reading, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to put the small notebook down where it belonged.

Why is Carole so much more interested in animals than humans? I think it has something to do with the fact that she grew up on army bases and has always been moving around, having to make new friends. Horses have become something she can count on. And, when Carole’s mother died of cancer, horses became even more important to her. They’re like her refuge. Sometimes I think Carole needs to pay a little more attention to humans. The Saddle Club understands her, but not everyone else does!

It’s been interesting to observe Stevie, too
.

Stevie wiggled down onto the bedroll for extra comfort. This was going to be interesting.