Horse Trade (6 page)

“That’s good,” Stevie said, truly encouraged. Phil had said that he needed a lot of help, but he was clearly off to a good start. He and Teddy should do fine at dressage.

“How about a turn on the forehand?” Stevie called out.

Keeping his front feet in one spot and using them as a pivot, Teddy moved his hindquarters in a circle. To do this, Teddy’s hind legs had to step across each other, a thing that most horses truly hated. Again Teddy showed no sign of nervousness or reluctance. This was a well-trained horse.

“And now for the ultimate toughie, the countercanter,” Stevie said.

“I don’t know,” Phil said. “We’ve worked on it, but …” His voice trailed off. He put his hand on Teddy’s neck and said something that Stevie couldn’t hear. He and Teddy cantered clockwise around the ring; then he brought Teddy off the rail and started him cantering in the opposite direction without changing leads.

Stevie’s jaw dropped. The countercanter was a movement that a lot of riders wouldn’t even try. It was extremely difficult to get an untrained horse to countercanter, because an untrained horse wants to be on the left
lead when he’s cantering left. Actually, that’s not even what an untrained horse wants to do, it’s what he has to do because he’s not supple enough to go on an opposite lead. But here was Teddy cantering left on a right lead. And now Teddy was moving away from the rail and then back into it in a serpentine pattern without changing leads.

“I can’t believe it,” Stevie said as a smiling Phil rode up to her. “Have you guys been practicing day and night?”

“Teddy wanted to impress you,” Phil said with a grin. “I told him he was overreaching himself, but you know how Teddy is.”

Stevie was totally thunderstruck by this display. Phil had always been a good rider with great natural instincts, and Teddy had always been a fine horse, but now they had passed to a new level. Taking a close look at Teddy, she could see that he had become better balanced, more muscular, and above all more self-confident.

“There’s only one thing,” Stevie said. “You don’t need my help. You two are great.”

Phil’s face fell. Was working together on dressage another part of Phil’s plan to spend more time with Stevie?

There must be a solution to this, Stevie thought. “So you’ll do something else.” She searched around wildly for an idea. “Something beyond dressage.”

“Like what?” Phil said gloomily. “There isn’t anything beyond dressage.”

Suddenly, she didn’t know why, Stevie saw Lisa at the end of
Annie
, stepping down to the edge of the stage and singing “Tomorrow.” She could hear Lisa’s husky voice and feel the hush of the crowd.

“With music,” she said, still thinking. “You’ll ride to music.”

“Teddy loves heavy-metal rock,” Phil joked.

Stevie giggled. “I don’t know about heavy metal. But we’ll think of something.”

“You’ll join me, Stevie? There’s no way I can do this alone,” Phil said.

“A duet,” Stevie said. “I’m into it.”

Actually, she couldn’t wait to get started working with Phil on a dressage duet. Not only would it be fun to spend time with him, she’d have a chance to find out how much dressage training No-Name had had in her past.

So what if Stevie didn’t have a clue about how to create a horse duet? Her friends in The Saddle Club would help her and Phil figure out a horse-dancing routine.

“F
IRST
,
IT IS
essential that a horse be active and free but still display its inherent strength and speed.”

Hollie rolled her eyes, looking at Lisa as if to ask what they were doing there. It was a Saturday morning at Pine Hollow Stables, and the wind from the Silverado Mountains was fresh, the flowers in the pasture on the other side of the fence sparkling with dew. So what were they doing listening to this dull woman drone on about dressage?

Lisa rolled her eyes, too, to show that she agreed the speaker was boring—she didn’t want Hollie to think she thought that everything that had to do with horses was exciting. She had her limits, too. But then Lisa looked
back to the speaker because she knew that if she didn’t pay attention, Max would blast her afterward. Max hated talking during Horse Wise meetings, but he hated talking even more when they had a guest speaker. Lisa shifted to her other foot and turned her attention back to the speaker.

“Horses are athletes,” the woman was saying in a nasal voice, “and so are riders. Dressage is a way of getting horse and rider in shape.”

This made sense, Lisa thought, but for a new rider like Hollie, the only way to really understand dressage was to experience it. The first time Hollie got her horse to lengthen his stride without quickening it, the first time she experienced that odd floating feeling, she’d understand why some people, like Stevie, loved dressage. That floating sensation was what a ballerina feels at the top of her leap, or a basketball player feels at the moment of a slam dunk. For a moment you’re not earthbound. You are one with your horse.

“To be a dressage judge requires accuracy of mind, a deep knowledge of horse anatomy, and courage,” the speaker said.

Lisa heard a muffled squeak and looked over to Hollie. Her friend was in severe danger of breaking out in giggles. The speaker had made a dressage judge sound like Superman. It’s a bird, it’s a plane, no, it’s a dressage judge, Lisa
thought. She grinned herself and then smothered the grin because she could feel Max’s eyes on her.

“At the exhibition at Cross County you will be able to see dressage judging at its finest,” said the speaker with a satisfied smile. “No actual prizes will be awarded, but the judge, namely myself, will offer insightful comments.”

“It’ll be standing room only,” Hollie muttered.

Lisa gave her a warning look, but it was too late. Max walked to the center of the ring and said, “I hope you’ve all been listening.” He looked directly at Hollie. “Because now we’re going to put the principles of dressage in action.”

Hollie sighed, and Lisa could tell that she was wishing she were somewhere else.

When all the riders were mounted, Max nodded toward Hollie’s horse. “Some horses, like Delilah, have a tendency to let their heads droop. Does anyone know how to get a horse to raise its head?”

“You pull on the reins,” said Hollie, and she pulled Delilah’s reins without waiting for Max to answer. Delilah’s head went up, but now it was too high, giving her a stiff, uncomfortable look.

“That’s how you
don’t
do it,” Max said sharply. He never liked to see a horse in discomfort.

“Sorry,” Hollie said, loosening the reins and slumping.

“Who knows?” Max said.

No one raised her hand, because no one wanted to make Hollie look bad.

“It’s not your fault,” Max said, turning back to Hollie, “but next time find out what to do before doing it. It’s not fair to experiment on your horse.” He looked back at the group. “Anyone know?”

Carole raised her hand. “You have to get her back legs farther under her. Delilah tends to walk with her hind legs sticking out. If you get them under her haunches, her head will go up.”

“Right,” Max said.

Lisa, who was proud of how well Carole had explained Delilah’s droopy-head problem, looked at Hollie to see if she was impressed. But to Lisa’s disappointment Hollie was staring at the road that ran to Pine Hollow. Clearly, Hollie was wishing she were someplace else. Lisa felt terrible because Hollie wasn’t finding Pine Hollow as much fun as she’d expected.

After class, when the horses had been unsaddled and groomed, The Saddle Club met in the tack room. Hollie was already there, sitting on a pile of horse blankets, looking glumly at the tangles of tack on the opposite wall.

“I don’t know if horseback riding is for me,” she said to Lisa. “No applause. No makeup. No audience. I think maybe I’m too much of a lightweight to be a serious rider.”

“Hey,” Lisa said, flopping down next to her. “Were you a star after your first acting lesson?”

“No.” Hollie had a wry expression. “I’m certainly not a star now either.”

“It’s not so different from learning to act,” Lisa insisted. “You have to master technique, study the greats, and tune your instrument.”

“I didn’t know you played an instrument,” Stevie said, popping open a soda can.

“An actor’s body is her instrument,” Lisa said. “She has to keep it fit and well tuned.”

“Same thing with dressage,” Stevie said, and took a sip of her soda. “Horses are basically kind of stiff and bulky. Dressage makes them supple and graceful.”

“It’s like a strengthen-and-stretch class,” Lisa said. “Plus it’s like aerobics. Plus it’s like a total body workout.”

“And a total mind workout,” Carole said. “The heart of dressage is rider-horse communication. It has to be based on a set of shared signals, which can be anything from the pressure of a knee to a slight change in the balance of the rider.”

Lisa could see that Carole was getting overly serious and that Hollie was losing interest again.

“It’s like dancing,” Stevie said suddenly. “That’s what it’s really like. When things are going right, you and the
horse don’t even have to communicate with each other—you just know.”

“I know what you mean,” Hollie said, sitting up straight. “When you’re performing, you have to forget about everything you’ve learned and dance the music. You have to dance it like you’re hearing it for the first time, as if you don’t know what note comes next.”

“That’s it!” As Stevie jumped up, her soda sloshed on her knee, making a dark spot on her breeches. “I was telling Phil that we needed to add something extra to the dressage exhibition, something with music.” She looked at Hollie excitedly. “You could help us. You could be our choreographer.”

“Me?” Hollie said, looking somewhat stunned at this new idea.

“You helped with the dance numbers in
Annie
,” Stevie said. “You told Lisa that blocking them out was your favorite part.”

“Horses can’t dance,” Hollie said, crossing her arms. “I know they’re wonderful and fascinating and stuff, but they can’t exactly dance.”

“That’s what you think,” said Stevie.

Carole and Lisa sat grinning at Stevie. Now Lisa shook her head. “You and Phil are going to dance with your horses in Cross County’s exhibition?”

Stevie flushed. “It sounds a little silly, but I thought it would be fun.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Carole chimed in. “Very Stevian.”

“Thanks, Carole,” Stevie remarked.

“What makes you think it was a compliment?” Carole teased her. Then she glanced suddenly at her watch. “Whoops. I’d better go. I promised my dad I’d go to something at the base.” Carole’s father was a colonel in the Marine Corps, stationed at Quantico, and sometimes Carole went with him to functions at the base. Carole’s mother had died a few years ago, and she and her father were very close.

“I have to go, too,” Lisa said, standing up. “I have this paper due in three weeks and I haven’t even started the research.”

“Three weeks!” Stevie said. “Are you bonkers? It’s too soon to even think about the paper.”

But Lisa was heading for the door.

“I guess it’s just you and me,” Stevie said to Hollie with a grin. “So are you up to being our choreographer?”

“Sure,” Hollie answered.

“Okay, stand up.” When Hollie looked surprised, Stevie explained that they might as well be comfortable. She dragged the pile of horse blankets into a corner, where she rolled up two and propped them against
the wall as backrests. Then she went into Mrs. Reg’s office next door and borrowed a sheet of paper and a pencil.

“Okay,” she said, flopping down next to Hollie, “how do we go about this?”

Hollie leaned back and closed her eyes. “The main thing is that you have to have a deam,” she said.

“Sure,” Stevie said. “I knew that. How do you spell ‘deam’?”

“What?” Hollie said, looking surprised.

“Deam. Is it ‘deem’ with two
e
’s?”

“Not deam … deam,” Hollie said.

Stevie was beginning to feel totally confused.

Hollie sneezed loudly, then said, “I mean ‘deam.’ ” She spelled it out. “T-H-E-M-E.”

“Oh,
theme
,” Stevie said, writing it down. “Good idea. What could it be?”

Hollie sniffed and said, “You look at what your deatrical assets are.”

“Hunh?” Stevie said.

“What’s best about the dancers, horses, whatever. And you play on that,” Hollie said. “Like the dicest thing about you and Phil is that you’re a douple.”

“Couple?” Stevie asked.

“That’s it,” Hollie said. “You really like each other.
And this will show up in your dancing. Do your dorses like each other?”

“Horses?”

Hollie nodded.

“You know, they do,” Stevie said. “I hadn’t really focused on it, but they do. I guess they pick it up from us.”

“No doubt,” Hollie said with a dreamy look in her eyes. “So I’m dinking about some kind of classic duet. The dorses will give it a dwist. You have do have a dwist,” she said meditatively. “You’re nowhere without a dwist. I know!” She was so excited she half jumped off the horse blankets. “That’s it. Indedible!” And then she sneezed not once, but twice.