Riding Class (6 page)

“Super.”

They heard a car pull up outside. Stevie peeked out the window. “That’s your mom, Lisa,” she announced. Lisa hurriedly finished writing the phone numbers and handed them to Emily.

“We’ll see you soon,” she said.

“I hope so,” Emily said. “It sounds great.” She gave P.C. a little tap with her crop and began trotting as The Saddle Club left.

A
FTER THEIR LESSON
the next day, The Saddle Club cooled out, groomed, and fed their horses, just as they always did. Then they cleaned their horses’ stalls. Then they each
cleaned their own tack—which was usual—and one other horse’s tack besides—which was not as usual. Then Stevie raked the aisle, Carole checked and filled all the water buckets, and Lisa straightened the locker room and swept the floor.

Everyone did chores at Pine Hollow, but eventually Max couldn’t help but notice their extra efforts. “Ladies, I’m really impressed,” he said, coming into the locker room where the three of them were cleaning out their cubbies. “I haven’t seen you work this hard since—when? The time you painted Diablo red?”

“Oh, Max,” Carole groaned. She hated the memory of that day. The Saddle Club had been trying to paint the front of the stable, but most of the paint had ended up on one of the horses. “That was a long time ago.”

“Or maybe the time you wanted tickets to the American Horse Show?”

“You gave us those tickets,” Lisa said severely. “We didn’t ask for them. We always work hard, you know that.”

“I do know that,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. “I’m very appreciative, believe me. Yet I can’t help but think that I might somehow be able to repay you for all the work you’re doing today.”

“As a matter of fact,” Stevie said, “there is one small thing—”

“Only a small thing,” Lisa said. “Very small.”

“You’ve let us do it before.” Carole added.

Max sat down on a bench and crossed his arms. “If all that’s true,” he asked, “why all the extra work? Why are you trying to butter me up?”

“It’s really important to us,” Stevie answered.

“Okay,” said Max. “Fire away.”

“We want to ask a friend of ours to come here for a trail ride,” Lisa explained.

Max laughed. “Let me guess,” he said. “This friend is a boy, right, Lisa? A cute boy, but he doesn’t ride very well—”

“No!” Lisa felt herself blush. So far, the boys she’d admired had all ridden very well, but that was beside the point.

“Emily rides at Free Rein,” Carole said. “She has cerebral palsy.”

Max’s grin faded into an expression of sympathy and understanding. “Oh, girls,” he said at last. “Oh, I just don’t know. I’d like to say yes, but I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”

“Max,” Stevie said, in an uncharacteristically firm and sensible tone, “you know we wouldn’t have asked you if we didn’t think Emily could do it. Please.”

Max looked at them all for a long minute. “Okay,” he said. “Come to my office. Let me see what Debbie Payne thinks about this.”

Apparently Ms. Payne thought The Saddle Club’s idea was okay, because when Max hung up, he looked less worried. “Do you know Emily’s phone number?” he asked them. “I’d like to speak with her mother, too.”

Lisa handed it to him. “Use the speaker phone,” she suggested. “Please.”

Max smiled at her and pushed the speaker button on the telephone. They could all hear the phone ringing at Emily’s house.

Finally someone answered. “Hello?”

“Emily?” Stevie asked. “Emily, hi, it’s Stevie. And Carole and Lisa. We’re at Pine Hollow, and Max wants to talk to your mom.”

“Hi, Stevie! Just a second.” Emily put the phone down.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Williams?” Max introduced himself as the director of Pine Hollow.

“Oh, yes.” Emily’s mother laughed. “I’m glad you’ve called,” she said, “because Emily hasn’t talked about anything but this trail ride since she came home last night.”

“I just spoke with Debbie Payne,” Max said. “She feels that Emily rides well enough and isn’t likely to be frightened by being out of the ring, and she says Emily’s horse is as steady as they come.”

“I’m not worried about Emily,” Mrs. Williams replied. “Well, yes, I am, it’s a big step for her, but we’ve always
encouraged her to be independent and try new things. She’s very eager to do this. But tell me about these new friends of hers. Are they responsible? Can we trust them not to take silly chances? I know how girls this age can be.” Mrs. Williams was apparently not aware that The Saddle Club could hear every word she said.

Max winked at The Saddle Club. “These three are the most responsible young women I know,” he said proudly. “I’d trust them in any situation.”

Stevie felt her face grow hot. She could personally think of several situations that Max couldn’t trust her in. She was sure Max knew about at least some of those situations. On the other hand, she knew and Max knew that she never did anything stupid on horseback. Max was right. There was no fear that Stevie would hatch one of her schemes while riding with Emily.

Max and Mrs. Williams talked for a few more minutes, and then Emily came back on the phone. They arranged to meet at Pine Hollow at nine-thirty Saturday morning.

“That’ll give us plenty of time to groom, tack up, and have a nice long ride before lunch,” Carole said. “We’ve got a Horse Wise meeting at one o’clock.”

“Horse Wise? Is that your Pony Club?”

Carole remembered that Emily had said Pony Club sounded like fun. “That’s right, it is,” she said. “We’re just having an unmounted meeting this week. I think Meg and
Jasmine are giving a presentation on polo wraps. It’s not going to be a big deal, but maybe you could stay for it. We always have a picnic lunch here on Saturdays. Would you like to?”

“Really?”

“Of course really,” Stevie cut in. “Four is a much better number for lunch than three. The sandwiches divide more easily.”

“I’ll bring dessert,” Emily said. “Does your mare like bananas?”

“As a matter of fact, no,” said Stevie. “I tried them on her once, and she didn’t like them at all.”

“P.C. doesn’t like them either,” Emily said. “So I’ll bring something, but not bananas.”

They hung up the phone and Max began to laugh. “I can’t wait to meet her,” he told Stevie. “She’s the first person I’ve ever talked to that reminded me of you!”

T
HE
S
ADDLE
C
LUB
walked into Pine Hollow Stables and stopped dead, staring. It was Saturday morning. There in front of them was Dr. Dinmore, the old woman they’d helped put on Patch last weekend, and she was grooming Calypso!

Calypso was a beautiful Thoroughbred mare that Max had bought especially for breeding. Like most Thoroughbreds, she was high-strung and skittish, and she was rarely used for lessons. “Oh, Dr. Dinmore!” Carole said, advancing with an air of command. “You really shouldn’t have taken that horse out of her stall!

“She can be a little frisky,” Carole explained. She gently
took Dr. Dinmore’s arm and guided her out of harm’s way. Lisa and Stevie returned Calypso to her stall.

Dr. Dinmore watched them with mild amusement. “Mrs. Reg told me that I was going to ride Calypso,” she protested.

Stevie raised an eyebrow. “Calypso? She couldn’t have meant
Calypso
.”

“That’s what she said.” Dr. Dinmore was wearing a different elegant white shirt, this time with a bolo tie, over a pair of fancy leggings. She didn’t look any more like a rider than she had the last time. “I’m sure Mrs. Reg said Calypso. She’s in the office—she just got a phone call.”

“She must have said something that sounded like Calypso,” Lisa decided. “I’m sure she wouldn’t let you on Calypso. No offense, but Max doesn’t let any of us ride Calypso! How about Diablo? Could it have been Diablo?”

“Or Delilah?” Carole suggested. Delilah was a very sweet palomino mare. “I bet it was Delilah. She’s down here.” Carole started to walk toward Delilah’s stall, but Dr. Dinmore didn’t follow.

“Last time you told me to ride that old plug Patch,” she said. “I think maybe you girls don’t understand what I want.”

Carole frowned, considering. A lot of people who didn’t really ride attached too much importance to a horse’s looks, or to the color of its coat, or to whether or not it was
a purebred. Carole knew that those things could be important in certain limited situations, but that what mattered most about a horse was that it had a willing heart. Patch had a good heart, but he was sometimes more lazy than willing.

“Delilah can be easier to ride than Patch,” Carole admitted. “Patch is very gentle, but Delilah listens a little better. And she’s a mare—do you like mares ?”

“I like Calypso,” Dr. Dinmore replied.

“Come meet Delilah,” Carole offered. “I’m sure you’ll really like her when you see her.”

“We’ll show you how to groom her,” Lisa said helpfully. She started to gather the tack Mrs. Reg must have gotten out for Dr. Dinmore.

“Where’s your hard hat?” Stevie asked, looking around the area. “Don’t forget, you have to wear one.”

“I wouldn’t forget a thing like that,” Dr. Dinmore assured her. “But girls, as much as I appreciate your eagerness to help—”

“What are they doing this time?” Mrs. Reg asked, coming out of the office. Her eyes narrowed a bit when she saw The Saddle Club clustered around Dr. Dinmore.

“We’re helping,” Stevie explained. “Dr. Dinmore misunderstood and thought you wanted her to ride Calypso.”

“We told her Delilah would be a better choice,” Carole added.

Mrs. Reg’s eyes narrowed a bit more. “Why?” she asked. “Come to that, why Patch last time? Why shouldn’t she ride Calypso?”

“Because—” Stevie thought about it and shut her mouth before the rest of the sentence escaped. She’d been going to say, “Because Dr. Dinmore is so old.” Mrs. Reg was probably at least as old as Dr. Dinmore. Stevie had a feeling that Mrs. Reg wouldn’t appreciate being called old.

“Because we knew you wouldn’t want to frighten her when she’s just starting out,” Lisa cut in. She could see what Stevie was thinking. She didn’t think they needed to remind Mrs. Reg about her age, either, but she knew that they were doing the right thing. Lisa had never ridden spirited horses until she had taken lessons for long enough to know what she was doing most of the time. Starting out quietly was the right way to learn to ride, and Lisa was sure that Mrs. Reg would be happy they were so conscientious.

Mrs. Reg didn’t look happy. She didn’t look unhappy, either; she looked like she was trying to stifle either giggles or stomach gas. “I won’t frighten Dr. Dinmore,” she said. “I promise you that. But I’ll assign the horses, okay?”

“Okay.” The Saddle Club looked at one another, shrugged, and went to get their own tack. They were only trying to help. Normally Mrs. Reg was more appreciative.

Before they got all the way to the tack room, they heard Mrs. Reg ask Dr. Dinmore, “Do you
feel
like a fossil?” Both
women exploded into laughter. The Saddle Club didn’t understand it at all

The girls groomed their horses thoroughly and hung their tack near the horses’ stalls so that they could get ready quickly when Emily came. They finished just in time to see a big blue horse trailer pull up in front of the stable. Emily waved from the front seat, and her mother came around to help her climb out of the cab. Emily wore paddock boots and breeches underneath her leg braces, and she already had her hard hat on her head. Lisa and Carole unloaded P.C. while Stevie introduced herself to Emily’s mother.

P.C. stepped out of the trailer and looked around eagerly. The new sights and sounds seemed to interest but not overexcite him. Lisa handed Emily P.C.’s lead rope and went back to help Carole unload his tack, water bucket, and other gear. The four girls said good-bye to Emily’s mother and headed for the stable.

“Just a minute.” Emily’s mother reached into the cargo hold of the trailer and pulled out a folded manual wheelchair. She snapped it open.

“Oh, Mom!” Emily sounded horrified.

“Em, you might want it,” Mrs. Williams said, kindly but firmly. “You know you get tired, and this is going to be a long day. It will be worse if you need your chair and don’t have it than if you don’t need it and do have it.”

“Not much,” Emily muttered, but she asked Stevie if there was somewhere they could hide it in the barn. Stevie wheeled it into the locker room while Carole and Lisa showed Emily an empty stall she could use for P.C.

“Before I started riding, I had to use that stupid wheelchair all the time,” Emily said as she snapped P.C. onto a set of cross-ties. Pine Hollow didn’t have a handy shelf for Emily to put her grooming tools on, but Stevie moved a hay bale over for her to use. “All the physical therapy in the world wasn’t enough to make me walk. These crutches aren’t so bad compared to using a wheelchair all the time.”

“Is riding really that good for you?” Lisa asked. “It feels like my legs are a little stronger now that I ride, but I never really thought of riding as something you did to build muscles.” She went into Prancer’s stall and began to saddle her.

Emily brushed P.C.’s coat hard. “Riding’s great,” she said emphatically. “The thing is, when you sit on a horse, its movement naturally causes you to kind of sway back and forth, right?”