Riding Lesson (13 page)

Max looked up at them, still chuckling. “What’s funny is that I was just this minute telling Deborah that Red and I were going to spend tomorrow morning bringing down a whole load of hay from the loft.” He waved a hand at the hay mountain. “But look at this! The hay fairies were here before us.” He winked at Deborah.

“We do what we can,” Stevie said graciously. Carole and Lisa glanced at each other, relieved that Max wasn’t angry. “So where are you two lovebirds off to now?” Stevie added.

“We’re going out for a late dinner,” Deborah said. “So I guess you girls are in charge here for a few hours.”

Max groaned. “Hush. Just the thought of that gives me indigestion.” He looked up at the girls. “Try not to get into too much trouble while we’re gone.”

“Right,” Stevie whispered loudly as Max and Deborah headed for the door. “Like he believes that!”

After the adults were gone, Stevie grabbed her backpack
and held it behind her back. “And now,” she announced dramatically, “it’s birthday-party time!” With a flourish she pulled out the CD, which Lisa had wrapped in red-and-green paper.

“The paper’s left over from last Christmas,” she explained to Marie sheepishly. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Hey, no problem,” Marie said. “I can’t believe you guys got me a gift at all. This is great.” She eagerly ripped open the package and squealed with delight. “Wow! I can’t believe this! I was already plotting ways to make my mom buy this album for me when she got back. I can’t wait to listen to it. Thanks a million, you guys!” She reached for her suitcase. “Hey, do you want to see what Carole and her dad got me?”

“Well, my dad was the one who actually got it,” Carole admitted. “He went shopping yesterday on his lunch hour.”

“But he did say you were the one who gave him the idea,” Marie said. “And somehow I believe him.”

When she pulled out the gift, Lisa and Stevie started laughing. They knew exactly what Marie meant. The gift was a small leather CD carrying case with a picture of a running horse embossed on it. “It does look like something Carole would pick out. I can’t quite put my finger on why, though,” Lisa teased.

Carole laughed, too. It felt good to joke around with her
friends again after being in such a bad mood all week. “I saw one like it at the mall last time Dad and I were there,” she explained. “I thought about saving up to get it for you for Christmas, Stevie, except they only had ones to hold CDs, not tapes. But I thought it would be perfect for Marie. Now she can bring her CDs with her wherever she goes without worrying about their getting damaged.”

“It really is the perfect gift,” Stevie declared as Marie carefully tucked her new CD into her new CD case. And the others couldn’t help but agree—especially Carole.

Later that night, after the girls had told ghost stories, talked about horses, gossiped about people they knew, talked about horses, eaten the snacks they had brought, talked about horses, and said good night to all the horses in the barn, they were finally ready to settle down and go to sleep.

“This is the life,” Stevie commented as the four girls once again sat at the edge of the loft, this time in their pajamas, watching the horses in the stalls below.

“You’re not kidding,” Marie agreed.

Carole smiled. After all the anger and frustration she’d felt over the past week, it felt good just to relax and be herself again. She looked down at Topside, whose stall was just below where she was sitting, and at the mare Spice, who was nearby in the foaling stall. If she stood up, she would be able to see Starlight, but she was too sleepy to
make the effort. It was enough just to know that he was there.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m exhausted,” Stevie said a few minutes later. “Let’s hit the hay.” She grinned, pleased with her unintentional but very appropriate joke. “Literally, that is!”

Lisa had set up their sleeping bags on a soft bed of hay and straw. Naturally, the girls continued to talk even after they’d climbed into their sleeping bags, but gradually they all grew quiet, listening to the sweet, comforting sounds of the horses below. One by one, they dropped off to sleep.

C
AROLE AWOKE WITH
a start. Someone was shaking her shoulder and whispering her name. It was chilly, and bright moonlight poured over her. For a second Carole couldn’t remember where she was. Then she heard a soft whinny from below, and then an answering snort, and she remembered: She was in the stable loft.

“Carole,” Marie whispered again insistently.

“What is it?” Carole whispered back. “I’m awake.”

“Come see,” Marie replied.

Carole followed her as she crawled to the edge of the loft. Marie pointed down. “Look at that!” she said softly, her voice full of wonder.

Carole soon saw why. There in the foaling stall, illuminated by moonlight, was the mare Spice—and a spindly-legged little foal. “Oh!” gasped Carole, delighted.

“I can’t believe it’s standing up already,” Marie marveled.

Carole nodded, watching the pair below carefully. “She must have foaled a while ago—I’d guess it’s been at least an hour. Look, the foal is trying to nurse.” The girls watched, breathless, as the foal nuzzled its mother’s belly in search of food. They could tell when it found it, for the tiny horse let out a squeal of excitement before settling down to nursing vigorously.

“Hey, what time is it?” Marie whispered suddenly.

Carole glanced at her watch, squinting to make out the time in the moonlight. “About five minutes to midnight. Why?”

Marie smiled and glanced down at the foal. “That means he was born on my birthday,” she said.

Carole smiled, too. “That’s wonderful, Marie,” she said. “It’s like an extra present.”

Marie nodded. “It’s a nice one, too,” she said quietly. She paused. “This has been kind of a strange birthday, you know?”

“I know,” Carole replied. She was sure Marie was thinking about her father. “It was hard for me the first few holidays, too. It still is, really.”

Marie nodded sadly. “It just seems weird to be celebrating something like a birthday, when …” Her voice trailed off.

“I know,” Carole said again. “But your dad would want
you to have a nice birthday. Who knows, he may be looking down at you right now. Maybe he even had something to do with the foal being born tonight—you know, like his gift to you.”

Carole regretted her words as soon as she said them. She bit her lip, expecting Marie to get upset at her comment, or at least to make fun of it. But Marie did neither. Instead she leaned over to give Carole a hug.

“Thanks,” Marie said. In the silvery light Carole could see tears glistening in the other girl’s eyes, but she had a feeling they weren’t really tears of sadness—at least not entirely.

“Happy birthday,” Carole whispered again as she hugged her back.

Marie sat back, and they watched the moonlit stall below for a few minutes in silence. Then Marie crawled back to wake Stevie and Lisa.

“What’s going on?” Stevie murmured sleepily a moment later.

“Oh! She foaled!” whispered Lisa, peering downward.

They all watched the little family in silence. It was obvious that the mare had everything under control and didn’t require any human intervention. In fact, she seemed totally unaware of the observers above her as she nuzzled her baby lovingly.

Soon, despite their fascination, the girls started yawning.
By this time the foal had finished nursing and had lain down in the straw to sleep. Reluctantly, the girls tore themselves away from the magical scene below and did the same thing. And the rest of the night was filled with sweet dreams for all of them.

A
WEEK LATER
Stevie, Carole, and Lisa were sitting in their favorite booth at TD’s having a Saddle Club meeting.

“I bet Marie was glad to see her mother,” Lisa said, taking a sip of water.

Carole nodded. “You should have seen her at the airport last night. When they announced that the plane was going to be half an hour late, she wanted to sue the airline. And when the plane finally arrived, she jumped up and down the whole time it was landing.”

Stevie and Lisa laughed.

“That sounds like Marie,” Lisa commented. The girls paused to thank the waitress as she brought them their two hot-fudge sundaes and one blueberry on butter brickle.

“Yeah,” Carole said as she dug in. “You know, I can’t
believe I’m saying this, but I’m kind of going to miss having her around.” She rolled her eyes. “Even if she did play that stupid CD you two gave her twenty-four hours a day for the past week.”

“Spoken like a true sister!” Lisa declared.

“Not like
this
sister,” Stevie corrected. “I never miss my brothers when they’re not around.”

“Oh, but that’s brothers. Having a sister must be different,” Lisa said.

“It’s different, all right,” Carole said. “A
lot
different from what I was expecting.”

“Really?” asked Stevie.

Carole nodded. “I really like Marie—I always have. And I hope she’ll be my friend for a long time to come.” She shook her head. “But no matter how much I like her, it’s tougher being her sister than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s probably because being sisters is a much different kind of relationship,” Lisa said. “It’s more difficult because you each have more adjusting to do.”

“That’s for sure,” Carole agreed. “I never realized how much adjusting people have to do to one another.”

“Like Max and Deborah,” Stevie pointed out. “Now that they’re getting married, he goes shopping for china and she lets him open doors for her.”

“Right,” Lisa said, nodding thoughtfully. “Those are minor adjustments that make their life together smoother. They want to be together, so they both adjust.”

But Stevie had been distracted by the entrance of two customers. “Will you look at that,” she exclaimed.

Carole and Lisa turned to look. “Oh, great, it’s Veronica,” Carole said with a shrug. Then her eyes widened. “Isn’t that your buddy Priscilla with her?”

Stevie nodded, watching as Priscilla Tyler and Veronica diAngelo sat down at a table on the other side of the restaurant. The two girls didn’t notice The Saddle Club watching them—they were chattering animatedly, pausing once in a while to look down at their feet with interest.

“My guess is that there’s an intense shoe discussion going on at their table,” Lisa remarked.

“My guess is that you’re right,” Carole agreed.

“That just proves that sometimes the adjusting just isn’t worth it,” Stevie said, returning to their previous conversation. “Like with me and Priscilla. If we’d wanted to hang out together, one or both of us would have had to undergo a total personality transplant.”

“Well, luckily she seems to have found a soul mate,” Carole said with a laugh.

“Adjusting to Marie was worth it, though, wasn’t it?” Lisa asked Carole.

“Sure,” she agreed. “Underneath it all Marie and I really have a lot in common—a lot more than Stevie and Priscilla do, for instance. And I think we both learned a lot from each other. Once we got adjusted to being sisters, it was really kind of fun to have her around.”

“That’s just one more thing I like about The Saddle Club,” said Stevie contentedly.

“What is?” asked Lisa.

“We don’t have to adjust to one another,” Stevie explained. “We’re just each who we are and that’s fine with all of us.”

“Right, like when one of us comes up with some wild notion about throwing somebody out of a hayloft into a net?” Carole asked.

“Well, but you see, I always knew that Lisa would never let me go through with that,” Stevie explained. “That’s why you two are my best friends—so I don’t get into a lot of trouble.”

“A lot
more
trouble, you mean,” Carole corrected her.

Stevie grinned. “Right! And that’s what best friends are for!”

B
ONNIE
B
RYANT
is the author of more than a hundred books about horses, including The Saddle Club series, Saddle Club Super Editions, the Pony Tails series, and Pine Hollow, which follows the Saddle Club girls into their teens. She has also written novels and movie novelizations under her married name, B. B. Hiller.

Ms. Bryant began writing The Saddle Club in 1986. Although she had done some riding before that, she intensified her studies then and found herself learning right along with her characters Stevie, Carole, and Lisa. She claims that they are all much better riders than she is.

Ms. Bryant was born and raised in New York City. She still lives there, in Greenwich Village, with her two sons.