Horse Games (3 page)

“Sure,” Marie said. “You like it a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Carole said. She was inspired by the question. “It’s about the most important thing in the world to me. I love horseback riding. I love horses. I even have my own horse. My dad gave him to me for Christmas. His name is Starlight. He’s a bay and he’s got this beautiful star right on his face. He’s pretty young and I’ve been working on finishing his training. I think he’s going to be wonderful. Someday, I hope I’ll be able to ride him in shows. I know he’ll win—though I don’t know about me, of course. Anyway, he’s terrific. You should meet him sometime. Would you like to?”

“What do you like better? Riding or talking about it?” Marie asked.

Carole smiled. “I know. My friends tell me that when I get started talking about horses and riding, there’s no stopping me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be boring. It’s just that I think riding is wonderful. Everything about horses is wonderful. I mean, I even like it when I have to groom Starlight or take care of him in any way. I suppose that sounds weird, but, when you think about it, having a horse is a lot of responsibility as well as fun and the responsibility sort of makes the fun all the more—” She stopped abruptly. “Am I doing it again?”

“Yes,” Marie said, now almost laughing. It wasn’t a mean laugh, though. It was more like a friendly laugh.

“I think I’m incorrigible,” Carole said. “But I don’t mind. I like myself that way.”

“It’s okay,” Marie said. “I don’t mind, either.”

Just then a woman waved to Marie. The girl waved back. “My mother,” she said, though it wasn’t necessary. Marie looked just like her. Mrs. Dana was tall and slender. Her dark eyes were wide-set and bright. When she smiled the greeting to her daughter, Carole realized how pretty Marie would be if she ever smiled as broadly as her mother did.

“Done already? Did it go okay? What did the therapist say?” Mrs. Dana shot questions at her daughter faster than Marie could have answered them if she’d wanted to.

“Everything’s fine, Mom,” Marie said. “Let’s go.” Then, with some effort, the girl stood up using her crutches to help and followed her mother through the hospital lobby and out the doorway.

Carole waved and called good-bye to the Danas. Marie acknowledged it with a nod.

“See you,” Carole called.

Marie nodded again, this time more faintly.

Carole went out to her father’s car, opened the door, and got in. She expected him to be annoyed at how long it had taken her to return Crystal’s teddy bear, but found instead that he was curious about who she’d been with.

“Oh, that’s a girl I met at the festival thing. She’s not staying in the hospital anymore. She was just there for some therapy.”

“And what about the woman with her?” her father persisted.

“That’s Marie’s mother, Dad,” Carole said.

“Oh,” he said, a little disappointed.

It took Carole a few seconds to figure out why her father sighed after he said “Oh.” Then it struck her.

“She’s a widow, Dad,” Carole explained.

“Oh,” he said more brightly.

“Her husband was killed in an automobile accident at the same time Marie got hurt.”

“Hmmmmm,” he said.

“Were you annoyed that I took so long?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I was just concerned that you might have gotten sick and decided to stay there. And, by the way, how are you feeling? Any more sign of that fever you had earlier today?”

“I never did have a fever, Dad,” Carole said.

“But you were sick this morning,” he reminded her.

“No. You just
thought
I was sick. I’m in fine shape—healthy as a—”

“I remember,” he said. “You’re healthy as a horse. Just see to it you stay that way, okay?”

“Deal,” she said. She took his hand, which was resting on the seat of the car, and squeezed it. Sometimes it was a nuisance having a father who could start worrying about you at any moment. Most of the time it wasn’t a nuisance at all.

“H
ELLO
?” S
TEVIE
’
S VOICE
sounded sweet and cheery. It wasn’t exactly the way she felt, but it was the way she wanted a certain telephone caller to
think
she felt.

“Hi, it’s me,” Phil Marston said.

“Oh, wow, hi,” Stevie said. No matter what she was scheming, the sound of Phil’s voice was always welcome and she couldn’t help her enthusiasm. “I was hoping you’d call. Wait until I tell you what we did today in Pony Club.”

Phil waited. Stevie went on. “We actually learned how to play polocrosse. Can you believe it? I mean, after all, we were just talking about that earlier and
boom
that’s the very next activity Max had for us. It was a blast—just like you said it would be.”

“What position were you playing?”

“Attack,” Stevie said, trying to sound casual.

“Score many goals?” he asked.

“We only played one chukka,” she told him.

“Score any goals?” he asked.

“Just four—or was it five?” Stevie knew perfectly well that the answer was four, not five. And she also knew that that was the total number scored by both teams the entire day. Of those, two were disqualified because Attack was too close to the goal, another was disqualified because the ball had been carried over the penalty line, and the fourth wasn’t anything to boast about because it had been made in the team’s home goal. Stevie had not been personally responsible for any of those disasters. Her own goal attempt had missed completely. The ball had flown out of her racquet, off the playing field, and into the stable, startling three horses and a stablehand. Stevie didn’t think she needed to mention that.

“Hey, that’s pretty good for your first time at polocrosse,” Phil said.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think we’re going to get a lot better.” She certainly hoped so, anyway!

“Probably,” he said. “Practice makes a lot of difference in a game like polocrosse.”

“Well, maybe,” Stevie said. She didn’t actually doubt that he was right and she knew that her team would have to do a lot of practicing very soon, but she needed to take another angle right then. “Sometimes, though, I think if you simply practice with other people who are new at
something, you just study mistakes. The best thing would be to actually play against somebody really good. Do you know anybody really good that we could learn from?”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of any other team’s Attack that scored four or five goals in one chukka the first time it practiced,” Phil said. “I mean, what’s the point of trying to learn from somebody else when you’re already that good?”

Of all the nerve. He was as good as calling her a liar.

“You don’t believe me?” Stevie said.

“I didn’t say that,” he protested, but she knew he didn’t believe her and it annoyed her. It didn’t occur to her right then that he had a very good reason for not believing her and that was because what she’d said simply wasn’t true.

“Well, if you don’t think we’re very good, why don’t you just give us a chance to show you? I mean, all you have to do is bring a team over to Pine Hollow and you can see for yourself!”

“I might just do that,” Phil said. “As a matter of fact, there’s going to be a Pony Club rally in two weeks. Why don’t you ask Max if he thinks Horse Wise can compete against my club? I’ll talk to my team and see if they are interested in showing you guys a thing or two.…”

That was just what Stevie had been hoping for. She knew that if she boasted about how good they were, Phil would have to rise to the challenge and agree to a match.

“Done,” she said. “I’ll talk to Max on Tuesday.”

“I’ll call my instructor right now,” Phil said. “I’ll talk to you again next week—unless you’re too busy practicing to come to the phone!”

That’s just like Phil
, Stevie thought. He was
so
competitive!

C
AROLE PUT DOWN
her book to answer the phone. She didn’t have much idea of what she’d been reading anyway. Her mind had been on Marie Dana, not her book report.

“Hi, Carole, I’m glad you’re there. Have I got something to tell you.”

It was Stevie, of course. Nobody else jumped into a phone conversation the way she did.

“Hi, what’s up?” It was impossible not to be drawn in by Stevie’s enthusiasm, no matter what it was about.

“Well, I just talked to Phil, and—guess what?”

“He’s taking you to opening night at the opera on Thursday?” Carole teased.

“Huh? Oh, no. It’s much better than that. He’s going to talk to his Pony Club instructor and see if they can play us in a polocrosse match at the next rally.”

“This is exciting?” Carole asked. “You thought his ego needed some sort of gigantic boost?”

“What do you mean?” Stevie sounded indignant.

“We’re going to lose badly. We don’t know what we’re doing out there,” Carole said.

“But that was just today. Wait until we’ve had a couple of practices. I mean, we are better riders. We know that.”

“You don’t mean ‘we,’ you mean you. Personally, I don’t care if I’m a better rider than Phil Marston. He’s a good rider and he takes care of his horse. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

“But he thinks he’s this
great
rider and he was so impressed with himself, telling me about all the goals he scored when he was Attack and all the ones he prevented when he was Defense. I just thought we ought to take him down a peg or two.”

Stevie wasn’t making an awful lot of sense. Sometimes she was like that, Carole knew. Although most of the time Stevie was quite sane, the fact was that she was very competitive—even when there wasn’t anything to be competitive about (like her own polocrosse “skills”). It was a lesson Stevie had learned before, though it didn’t seem to have stayed with her.

“Don’t you think so?” Stevie persisted.

Carole thought about it for a few seconds. “Well, I know it would be fun to play against Phil’s team. They may not be wonderful, but they do have some experience, so it would be good for us—”

“I knew you’d agree,” Stevie said. “I’ll ask Max about it on Tuesday after class. I know he’ll say yes, too. Right now, though, I’m going to call Lisa and tell her what we’re planning. She won’t believe it, either. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Before Carole had a chance to answer, Stevie had hung up. Carole regarded her phone quizzically and laughed. Stevie was like that—especially when she got a
bee in her bonnet, and polocrosse had definitely put one there! There was no way to talk sense to Stevie when she was in one of those moods. Besides, experience had shown Carole and Lisa that more often than not, things actually ended up working out the way Stevie wanted them to, though often not quite as she had planned.

Carole had the feeling that they would be learning an awful lot about polocrosse in the next few weeks. She didn’t mind. Although they’d been dreadful in their practice this afternoon, polocrosse was played on horseback, and anything on horseback had a terrific advantage over anything not on horseback.

Riding had always been a wonderful, fun, exciting, and comforting activity for Carole. In fact, she sometimes wondered how she would have made it through the pain and sadness of her mother’s illness and death without the constant comfort of riding. Even when things were very tough, she always felt better on horseback. The recollection of her own difficult experiences made her think of Marie. Carole really did know how Marie was feeling. She just wished Marie could get the same help from horseback riding that she’d gotten. And then she wondered,
Why not?

Carole’s mind began churning. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, she thought, to be able to share horseback riding with somebody else who needed it as much as she had once. What better thing could one friend do for another? But how could she do it?

Carole wasn’t a schemer. She wasn’t one to come up with clever plans to talk people into doing things they didn’t know they wanted to do. On the other hand, Carole knew somebody who was a master at doing that. She paused for a moment and asked herself the obvious question: “What would Stevie do?”

Stevie would get on the phone. First she’d call Miss Bellanger, the head administrator at the hospital, to get Marie’s address and to ask if horseback riding would be okay for her. Then, she’d figure out a way to entice Marie to try riding at Pine Hollow. That’s how Stevie would do it and that, Carole decided, was how she would do it, too.

O
NE OF THE
best things about owning a horse was that it needed to be exercised almost every day. Carole had her riding lessons on Tuesdays and Horse Wise Pony Club on Saturdays. On the other days, whenever she could, she’d go straight to Pine Hollow after school and take Starlight out. It also gave her a chance to groom him and feed him. Time spent with Starlight was wonderful no matter what she was doing.

She tightened the buckle of his girth one more notch and led him to the door of the stable that led out onto the paths through the fields. She mounted up, touched the good-luck horseshoe, and was off. Today was special. She wasn’t just going to go for a ride; she had a mission.

Carole could still recall Miss Bellanger’s excitement
over the phone. The hospital had been trying to get Marie to take up horseback riding because it would be good for her legs. Marie, however, had been resisting suggestions for anything that would be good for her. Carole wasn’t surprised. She just hoped she could help. “Good luck!” Miss Bellanger had said.