Show Horse (4 page)

“… and besides, Max would never ask any of the four of us to do anything that wasn’t safe because—”

“Four?” Mrs. Atwood asked, interrupting.

“Yes, sure, I told you, didn’t I?”

“No.”

Then Lisa saw a light. “It’s me, Stevie, Carole, and Veronica diAngelo.”

“Veronica diAngelo?”

Lisa nodded, glad to be silent for a moment and realizing that this might be the opportunity she’d been hoping for. Nobody liked Veronica diAngelo. Even Mrs. Atwood knew that she was a spoiled brat. But nobody could contend that Veronica wasn’t proper. If Veronica’s parents were willing to let her compete in the horse show, Mrs. Atwood would certainly have to consider it. It was a start.

C
AROLE WATCHED THE
screen of her computer intently.

ENTER PASSWORD

She entered it. The screen blinked and switched; a colorful picture appeared. That held no interest for Carole. All she wanted was to get to the kids’ bulletin board and see if there was any news from Cam. Most of all, she could hardly wait to tell Cam that she was going to be in a horse show. That would impress her!

She scrolled through the messages until she got to the most recent. It was from Cam.

Sure, Carole knew some things about leg yielding. She knew it was a way to have your horse move both forward and sideways at the same time, sort of a diagonal stride, without having his legs cross one another and always keeping himself facing forward. It involved giving subtle but strong signals to a horse, and it could be tricky. Carole wanted to try to help. She cleared her screen, switching to “Send,” and began writing.

She pressed the keys to send her message and then returned to the bulletin board to see if any other messages had come in earlier. That was when she noticed that Cam’s note had been put up only a few minutes earlier. There was a blinking of the screen and her own note appeared. Modern technology was amazing!

Carole browsed. She found a note from a young rider about feeding schedules, and she made a mental note to answer that. Feeding was something she knew a lot about. Then she returned to her own note and was surprised to find that already it was not the last note on the board.

It was from Cam! She was on the computer at the same time Carole was. This was like having a phone conversation!

I’m here
, Carole typed in quickly.

Cam quickly responded.

Carole stared numbly at the screen. She was actually going to meet Cam—the girl who seemed to know it all. Why did this bother her so much? She had a feeling it was because she was so used to being the one who knew the most about horses—even among the rest of The Saddle Club. What if it turned out that Cam was a better rider and knew more than she did? What difference would it make that Carole could give a hint about leg yielding, if she couldn’t win a higher-place ribbon than Cam? What if …? She didn’t even want to think about the other “ifs,” and she had the odd feeling that if she didn’t answer Cam’s note right away, Cam would know that she was nervous and insecure. Above all, she couldn’t let Cam see that.

Carole switched screens to send a reply.

What if Cam was in Advanced? Could she stand it? Carole couldn’t believe how nervous she was all of a sudden. She forced herself to continue typing.

She tabbed to “Send,” pressed “Enter,” then waited. It didn’t take long to receive an answer from Cam:

That wasn’t quite the word Carole would have used. But then, she wasn’t sure what word she would have used. One thing was certain, though. Briarwood was going to be no ordinary horse show.

T
HE NEXT
S
ADDLE
Club meeting took place at Pine Hollow. The three girls met at the stable on Monday. Since Carole went to the stable nearly every day to take care of Starlight, it was always convenient for Stevie and Lisa to join her there. But Mrs. Reg, Max’s mother, hated the sight of young girls hanging around a stable doing nothing more than chatting, so before they knew it, she’d assign them tasks. At least they could talk while they were working.

Today Carole groomed Starlight while Stevie and Lisa mucked out the stall next to his.

“Phil says he’s sure we’re all going to do very well at Briarwood,” Stevie said. That wasn’t exactly what Phil had said, but it was as close as she wanted to share with her friends.

“
If
we all get to Briarwood,” Lisa said, sighing. “I talked to my mother. I think I made some progress with her, but there’s no telling for sure until her signature is on the form.”

“Oh, she’ll sign it,” Carole said. “There’s no way she’s going to keep you from having such a wonderful growing and learning experience.”

“I just hope you’re right,” said Lisa. “And what was it you were saying about this person you met on your computer? What’s her name?”

“Cam,” Carole said. “Cam Nelson. She’s a pretty good rider, I guess. I mean, she always seems to know things—”

“What’s all that talk going on there?” Mrs. Reg said, interrupting the conversation. “Aren’t you three supposed to be
doing
something?” she asked pointedly.

For a second it occurred to Stevie to point out that they
were
doing something until she realized that both she and Lisa had been using their pitchforks to prop up their elbows for quite a few minutes. Since that had certainly come to Mrs. Reg’s attention, she decided to try something else.

“Yes,” she said. “We’re supposed to be tacking up Starlight, Topside, and Prancer to take them out on a trail ride, which is going to be a sort of practice ride for the Trail class at Briarwood. Didn’t Max tell you?”

Mrs. Reg stifled a smile. She knew Stevie was fibbing, but Stevie always did it so charmingly that she got away with it more often than not. This was going to be one of those times.

“He must have forgotten to mention it to me,” Mrs. Reg countered, “but if you’re going out on a ride, you’d better get out there quickly. It’ll start getting dark in an hour or two.…” Then she winked at Stevie.

“We’ll be back before dark. Promise,” Stevie said. Then she and her friends practically raced to the locker area, where they changed very quickly into the spare riding clothes that they always kept at the stable, before dashing to the tack room. There wasn’t a second to waste, especially if they wanted to use up every minute of daylight.

Fifteen minutes later the threesome met at the door that led out the back of the stable. Each touched the good-luck horseshoe, and they were on their way, long before Mrs. Reg had a chance to change her mind.

“Whew!” Stevie declared when they began their trek across the meadow behind Pine Hollow.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Carole said. “I mean there we were, having a really nice time just chatting in the stable, and you somehow managed to think of a way to make it even better!”

Stevie smiled at the compliment. “My pleasure,” she said. “Definitely.”

Her friends agreed with that.

The girls rode in single file. Carole was first and Stevie was at the rear. Lisa, as the least experienced rider, was in the middle. Lisa was thrilled to be riding Prancer on a trail ride. Although she loved riding in any form, her favorite was definitely in the open on a
trail. It seemed like the natural way to ride. Horses, after all, were creatures of nature, and being in the open always seemed to bring out the best in them.

Prancer tugged at her bit. Lisa relaxed the reins a little. Prancer tugged some more.

“Tighten up on those reins,” Stevie said from behind.

“The bit seems to be bothering her,” Lisa explained. “She seems to want it looser.”

“Naturally,” Stevie said. “They always do. That way the horse can be in charge, but you’re the one in the saddle, not Prancer. You have to be in charge.”

“Right,” Lisa said. She drew in on the leather and made the reins taut. Prancer nodded her head in protest. Lisa released it a little.

“Ready to trot?” Carole asked from her position in the lead.

“You bet!” Lisa said. Then before she could even readjust the pressure of her legs on Prancer to tell her to trot, the horse picked up the faster gait.

Half of Lisa’s mind told her that was a bad thing. She knew that it just wasn’t a good idea to let the horse decide when to trot. The other half shrugged it off. After all, trotting
was
what she wanted Prancer to do, wasn’t it?

Once again Lisa was thrilled with the fluid motion of the Thoroughbred horse. Even though Prancer hadn’t been bred for her trot, it was smooth and speedy. It nearly took Lisa’s breath away. The horse seemed to feel the utter joy of motion, of the outdoors,
of the field. She sniffed eagerly at the fresh wind that filled her nostrils and watched as the countryside sped by her. Her stride lengthened, her pace quickened.

“Pull her back,” Stevie said. “You’re riding too close to Carole.”

Lisa had barely noticed that Prancer had inched up on her friend’s horse, but when she did, she couldn’t help smiling to herself. She was riding a racehorse—one whose very breeding had been designed for competition. Prancer would always want to be first. That would suit Lisa just fine.

Ahead, Carole raised her hand and pointed forward. It was a signal that she was preparing to canter. Starlight began cantering, and that was enough for Prancer. With a sudden burst Prancer began cantering, too, and then without any warning broke into a gallop. If she’d been bred to race at a trot, she’d been bred to win at a gallop.

While Lisa could ignore Prancer’s bad manners on trotting without a signal, then gaining on Starlight in single file, she couldn’t ignore the fact that her horse was galloping and she hadn’t even told her to canter.

Instantly she responded by gripping tightly with her knees, pulling as firmly on the reins as she could and she sat deeply in the saddle.

Although she couldn’t ignore Prancer, it seemed that Prancer could ignore her. If possible, the horse seemed to be going even faster! Within seconds Prancer had passed in front of Starlight and was racing across the field toward the woods. It was where Lisa
wanted to go, but it definitely wasn’t how Lisa wanted to get there. She held herself firmly in the saddle and tugged on the reins. Prancer shook her head in rebellion, and kept on.

“Hold her back!” Carole called.

“Stop her!” Stevie yelled.

Lisa tried everything again. She even said, “Whoa,” but Prancer, it appeared, didn’t speak English. Lisa couldn’t believe how ineffectual her efforts were. And then, as she neared the woods, Prancer slowed and stopped. Lisa sighed with relief and shook her head in anger.

It shouldn’t have happened. She knew better. She had allowed Prancer to get the upper hand and take over. There was no way a horse who thought herself to be in charge was going to pay any attention to her rider.