Horse Care (13 page)

She dragged herself a couple of feet across the ground until she could dip her swollen wrist into the stream again. The water was so cold that it made her start shivering even more than she had been. But it was worth it, because it also numbed her arm instantly. Plus, it helped to wake her up and cleared her mind a little.

Tiny was still lying down. She watched Lisa carefully, nickering every few minutes with apparent concern.

“Don’t worry, girl,” Lisa said. “I’ll be right back.”

She kept her arm in the stream as long as she could stand it, staring at the water rushing by and wishing that
it was her familar Willow Creek instead of some unknown stream in some unknown forest. If she were on the banks of Willow Creek right now, in The Saddle Club’s favorite rest spot on their favorite trail, that would mean that Carole and Stevie would be coming along to rescue her at any minute. Then she wouldn’t have a thing to worry about.

With a sigh, Lisa finally pulled her arm out of the water and dried it carefully on her sweater. This wasn’t Willow Creek, and Stevie and Carole had no idea where she was. Nobody did. Would anyone ever find her?

“W
HERE DO YOU
think Lisa is?” Stevie said for about the tenth time.

Carole frowned. “I told you thirty seconds ago,” she said. “I don’t know. Maybe she got held up at that girl’s house.”

“Hmmm.” Stevie stirred the melted remains of her sundae with her spoon. “Well, at least the happy couple is gone.”

She had said that about ten times, too, but Carole could understand why. She was also relieved about the departure of Tate and Veronica. The pair had finally impressed each other so much that they had walked out arm in arm to go to the movies, leaving their ice cream half finished.

But now Carole and Stevie had been sitting in TD’s for well over an hour.

“Do you think she forgot?” Stevie asked, glancing again at the clock on the wall.

“You already asked that,” Carole said. “And I already said it’s not very likely. When have you ever known Lisa to forget an appointment? Or even to be more than a few minutes late? Especially to a Saddle Club meeting.”

Stevie shrugged. “Practically never,” she said. “Maybe her bus is running late.”

“It would have to be running
really
late,” Carole pointed out. “It’s only a twenty-minute ride from here to Colesford.”

Stevie dropped her spoon and waved a hand at the waitress. “Well, I guess we should just be patient a little longer,” she said. “But I’m going to need more food.”

B
Y THE TIME
another half hour had passed, Stevie had polished off a second sundae, and she and Carole were both getting very worried.

“It’s pitch dark outside,” Carole said. “She would have finished riding at least a couple of hours ago, right?”

Stevie shrugged. “Maybe she ended up hitting it off with that girl. What was her name again?”

“Um …” Carole thought for a second. “Margaret, was it? No, Marguerite. That was it. Marguerite Mills.”

“Right,” Stevie said. “Anyway, maybe she liked Marguerite so much that she changed her mind about coming home early and decided to stay.”

“Maybe,” Carole said doubtfully. “But she knew we were planning to meet her here. And you know Lisa—she’s so responsible. She would never just stand us up. She would at least call.”

Suddenly Stevie sat bolt upright in the booth. “Maybe that’s it!” she exclaimed. “Maybe she left us a message at Pine Hollow and we just didn’t get it. We did leave a little early to come here.”

Carole looked hopeful. “Do you think that could be it?” she said. Before Stevie could respond, she answered her own question with a definite nod. “That’s got to be it!” she said. “There’s no other explanation.”

“Come on, let’s call the stable and find out,” Stevie said, jumping to her feet and digging in her pocket for a quarter.

Red O’Malley picked up the phone at Pine Hollow. He said he hadn’t heard a word from Lisa all day. Neither had Max or Mrs. Reg. Red even put Stevie on hold for a moment to call up to Max’s house and check with Deborah. Nobody had received a call from Lisa.

Next the girls tried their own houses. Their parents reported that there had been no messages from their friend. Then the girls dialed Lisa’s home number. There was no answer.

Stevie hung up and stared at Carole. “I don’t like this,” she said. “Where could she be?”

“We’d better try to call that girl, Marguerite,” Carole
said. She was really starting to worry. She tried to tell herself that it was probably nothing, that Lisa must have just forgotten about their meeting. But that was so unlike Lisa that Carole couldn’t make herself believe it.

Stevie picked up the phone again. It didn’t take long to get the Millses’ home number from directory assistance.

“Thank goodness they’re listed,” Carole commented. “A lot of times those rich, snooty people aren’t.”

Stevie just nodded and pressed the phone closer to her ear as it rang in the Millses’ house. Two rings, three, four …

“Thank you for calling. Jeffrey, Roberta, and Marguerite aren’t available to take your call right now, but …”

Stevie slammed the phone down in frustration before the recorded message could finish. “They’re not there,” she said. “I got the answering machine.”

“What are we going to do?” Carole asked. “Do you think something is wrong?” All kinds of terrible images crowded into her mind. Lisa in a car accident. Lisa in a riding accident. Lisa getting sick and being rushed to the hospital … It was scary to be so positive that something was wrong but not to know anything for certain.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Stevie said. “Her mom probably dragged her off to tea at the White House or something.”

But Carole could tell by the frown on Stevie’s face
that she didn’t believe that any more than she did. “I’ve got it!” she said suddenly. “Why don’t we call that stable? The one where she was supposed to go riding.”

Stevie snapped her fingers, and her face brightened slightly. “Brilliant!” she said. “That should tell us something. Now, what was the name of it again?”

“Fox Crest Farms,” Carole said promptly. “I remember it, because I’d never heard of it before.” She smiled a little. “Also because it sounded like the kind of name that someone snobby like one of Lisa’s mother’s friends would think was classy.”

Stevie was already dialing the number for directory assistance again. Soon she was waiting for someone to pick up at the stable.

“Hello?” said a bored-sounding male voice after several rings.

“Hello!” Stevie said. “Um, is this Fox Crest Farms?”

“Yeah,” the voice replied. “Who’re you calling for?”

“My name is Stevie Lake, and I—” Stevie cut herself off. This was no time for niceties like proper introductions. She started again. “I’m looking for a girl named Lisa Atwood.”

“Sorry, never heard of her,” the voice said. “You must have the wrong stable.”

“Wait!” Stevie cried before the person could hang up. “You don’t understand. She doesn’t usually ride there. She was there this afternoon as the guest of someone named Marguerite Mills.”

“Oh, Marguerite!” For the first time the voice sounded a little livelier. “Sure, she’s a friend of mine. Hold on, she’s just down the hall. I’ll get her.”

Stevie let out a sigh of relief as she heard the phone clatter down on the other end. She quickly filled Carole in on what was happening, then waited.

Finally she heard someone pick up. “Hello?” chirped a perky voice. “This is Marguerite. Who’s this?”

“Hi there,” Stevie said. “I’m a friend of Lisa’s. Lisa Atwood.”

“Oh.” Marguerite didn’t sound very impressed. “Yeah? She’s not here anymore.”

Stevie’s heart sank. She realized that she had been hoping with all her might that Lisa would still be with Marguerite. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Marguerite said impatiently. “My friends and I have been hanging out here for hours now, and I haven’t seen her. Besides, she said something about catching a bus back to Willow Creek.”

“Yes,” Stevie said, “but she’s not here.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. “Um, do you happen to know which bus she was taking? What time, I mean?” She could see that Carole was listening breathlessly to her side of the conversation, fingers crossed on both her hands.

“I have no idea,” Marguerite replied. “I think it was probably around three o’clock or so when we split up out in the woods, so—”

“Split up?” Stevie interrupted. Her mouth was dry all of a sudden. “What do you mean, split up? You left her out on the trail alone?” All of Max’s lectures over the years about riding safety flashed into her mind.
Never ride alone. Always tell someone where you’re going. Never ride alone
.…

“It’s no big deal.” Marguerite sounded irritated. “It was still broad daylight, you know. And it was only raining a little.”

Stevie gulped. “Wait a minute, Marguerite. I need you to do something. Go and see if Lisa’s horse is back.”

“Oh, really,” Marguerite said irritably. “Of course her horse is back. Look, I’m sure Lisa’s on her way home. Just give it some time.”

“Go and check on her horse,” Stevie said firmly.

“I have things to do,” Marguerite protested. “And anyway, my friends and I were just getting ready to leave.”

“Go and look for the horse Lisa was riding,” Stevie said again. “Do it
now
.”

Marguerite sighed loudly and was silent for a moment. “Wait,” she said at last. “Let me go check with one of the grooms first. Maybe someone else saw her come in, and then you can get off my back, okay?”

“Fine,” Stevie said. She heard Marguerite drop the phone and hurry off. “You’d just better come back,” she muttered.

“What’s going on?” Carole demanded anxiously.
When Stevie told her what Marguerite had said, her eyes widened. “Oh no,” she breathed. She looked at her watch. “She could have been out there for hours. Hurt, or …” She didn’t finish the sentence.

Marguerite returned. “I just talked to the head groom,” she said, sounding breathless and, for the first time, a little bit worried. “He hasn’t seen Lisa. Plus, he said that Tiny—that’s the horse she was riding—seems to be missing.”

Now Stevie was really scared. “Listen, Marguerite,” she said firmly. “We’re coming over there right now. Stay put until we get there.”

“What?” Marguerite started to protest.

Stevie didn’t let her finish. “Lisa could be in trouble,” she barked. “And it’s your fault. Now we need you to stick around and help us out. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

This time Marguerite didn’t argue. “Okay,” she said in a small voice. “Um, let me give you directions.…”

Stevie dug a pen out of her jacket pocket and scribbled a few notes on a napkin. Then she cut the connection and started dialing a new number.

“Who are you calling now?” Carole asked.

“Red,” Stevie replied grimly. “We need a ride to Colesford.”

L
ISA CLUNG TO
Tiny’s neck with all the strength she had left. It wasn’t much. She was wet and cold, and the woods around her were dark and empty. There was no telling how long she’d been out here. It felt like a life-time. By now the pain in her back and leg was so familiar that she hardly bothered to think about it anymore.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Prancer,” she murmured, burying her face in the horse’s warm neck. “You’re the only friend I have left.”

The horse snorted, and Lisa looked up. Her mind felt hazy, with deep, thick darkness creeping in at the corners. But she realized her mistake.

“Um, sorry,” she mumbled. “Tiny. Your name’s Tiny.
I’m sorry.” Tears started to drip down her face along with the raindrops that were still falling. Lisa shook her head violently. It sent a sharp spasm of fresh pain down her spine, but for once she didn’t mind. The pain woke her up a little, jolted her brain back into shape, and sent the darkness scurrying further back into the recesses of her mind.

She had to stay alert, had to concentrate on listening for rescuers or passersby. Was it ten o’clock yet? Had her parents realized she was missing? Or were they still dancing the night away at some fancy party?

Lisa didn’t know, but she had to keep herself focused. She had to make sure her brain kept working so that the darkness wouldn’t take it over entirely.

“Okay, Tiny,” she said. “Listen up. I’m going to tell you everything you need to know about stable management. Here goes.…” She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. Her logical, well-trained brain had never let her down before.

“Okay,” she said again. “First of all, we can talk about all the different breeds of horses. I don’t know what breed you are, Tiny. But here are some of the breeds I know about. Let’s see. There’s Thoroughbreds, and Arabians, and quarter horses. And American Saddlebreds, and Morgans, and Shetland ponies, and Tennessee walking horses. Um, and Trakehners, Westphalians. Appaloosas. Lipizzaners.” Lisa searched
her mind. “Then there are palominos— oh, wait. I’m not sure if that’s a breed or a color. Um, there’s Arabians. Did I say that one already?”

Lisa wiped the rain out of her eyes and decided it was time to change to a new topic.

“All right, how about this,” she told Tiny. “Did you know there are lots of different materials that can be used as bedding in stalls? Well, there are. There’s straw, of course. Actually, there are different kinds of straw, like wheat straw and oat straw and a few other kinds. Then there are wood shavings—those are a good thing to use if your horse likes to eat his bedding, because most of them don’t like it. Some people use shredded newspaper, or hemp, or even sand. Um, then there’s sawdust, and, let’s see … peat moss. Oh, and I heard that some people use peanut shells. Isn’t that funny?” She paused, wondering whether it was funny or not. It was too hard to decide, so she let it go.