Silver Stirrups (9 page)

“What?” said Stevie, all ears.

“I can’t tell anyone. I promised not to,” Lisa replied. If only there were some way she could make Carole understand that Andrea was dealing with a lot more than equitation over fences. But she couldn’t go back on her word. That would be a betrayal of Andrea.

“Look, let’s just drop the subject, okay?” Carole said. The last thing she wanted was to get in a fight with one of her best friends about her new rival. It would be a huge waste of time and energy before Briarwood.

“Okay,” said Lisa.

W
ORKING STEADILY FOR
an hour, Lisa, Stevie, and Carole managed to check off almost the entire list. Some things they wouldn’t do until closer to the show, such as polishing their boots. Feeling incredibly virtuous, Stevie suggested they adjourn to TD’s for a treat. TD’s was the local ice cream parlor and a favorite meeting spot for the girls. “We definitely deserve it. After all this work and no riding,” Stevie said.

“Count me in!” said Lisa, giving a final sweep to the tack room.

“Carole?”

“I wish I could come, but I want to lunge Starlight. Maybe I’ll meet you there later.” The night before, Carole had promised herself that nothing, but nothing,
was going to get in the way of her final week of preparation. That included trips to TD’s.

Lisa and Stevie were disappointed, but they set off alone, urging Carole to hurry and try to join them there. When they were gone, Carole took a lunge line and lunge whip and went to get Starlight. On the way to his stall, she passed the indoor ring. She could hear Max instructing Andrea.

“Good. Good. Now bring him down to a walk.”

Carole peeked into the ring.

“And tr-rot!” Max commanded.

Andrea leaned forward the slightest bit as Doc moved fluidly into the faster gait.

“Fine.”

Carole glanced at Max’s face. It was glowing with approval. “You ride this nicely on Saturday, you’ll have the judges eating out of your hand,” said Max.

Carole felt yesterday’s jealousy hit her like a brick. Max had found himself a new star pupil!

It was funny, though: Andrea didn’t look very happy. Her expression showed confusion—nervousness, even. “You really think so?” Andrea asked.

As they moved around the ring, Carole slipped away toward Starlight’s stall.
“You really think so?”
she mimicked in a whining voice. “Just wait till Saturday,” Carole said. “I’ll show you exactly what I think!”

T
HE
S
ADDLE
C
LUB
had gotten TD’s down to a routine. They always sat in the same booth. Stevie always ordered a disgusting-sounding sundae. And they always seemed to get the same grumpy waitress. When anything changed that routine, it didn’t feel right. Today, two things were off. One was that Carole weren’t with them. Minus a third of The Saddle Club, Stevie and Lisa felt like a skeleton crew. As if that weren’t enough, the rude waitress was nowhere to be seen. Instead a polite older man came to take their order.

“Good afternoon,” the man said. “What can I get you today?”

Lisa and Stevie looked at one another in surprise. Common courtesy? At TD’s? They were so surprised, they forgot their orders.

“Have you girls been riding?” the waiter continued.

Lisa found her voice first. “Uh, sort of. How’d you guess?”

The man pointed to his nose. “Sensitive sense of smell—at least when it comes to horses.”

Stevie and Lisa grinned sheepishly. They were used to hearing their friends, parents, and siblings complain about the horsey smell that clung to them after Pine Hollow afternoons. Luckily, the waiter didn’t seem annoyed. “Shall I come back in a few minutes?” he inquired.

“Oh, no—I think we’re ready. I’ll have a small chocolate chip on a sugar cone with sprinkles,” Lisa said.

“And for you, miss?”

Stevie thought for a minute. “A strawberry sundae on coffee ice cream with caramel and blueberry toppings, marshmallow, and two cherries,” she said. Both she and Lisa glanced up at the waiter, expecting him to show some reaction to the unusual order.

“Very good, miss,” said the man. He jotted it down and left the table.

Stevie watched him return to the counter, her curiosity piqued. “He seems too polite to be working here,” she observed.

“Yeah. Strange, isn’t it?” Lisa said.

When the man returned with their orders, something about his manner seemed almost sad to Stevie. To be friendly, she asked if he ever rode.

The waiter smiled. “Not anymore,” he said ruefully. “Not since my wife died last year. She and I used to ride together, and, well …” His voice drifted off momentarily.

Stevie shifted in her seat, sorry that she’d touched on such a sensitive topic.

“But my daughter rides,” the man continued. “When she lost her mother, she threw herself into the sport.” The man sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if it makes Andrea happy, though …”

Andrea?
Lisa thought.

“Andrea!” Stevie exclaimed. “You don’t mean Andrea Barry, do you?”

The man turned his attention to Stevie at once. “Why, yes—yes, I do. Do you know my daughter?”

“We just met her. We ride at Pine Hollow,” Stevie explained as she and Lisa introduced themselves.

“How wonderful! I was worried there wouldn’t be anyone Andrea’s age,” said Mr. Barry, looking pleased.

“Oh, there are lots of junior-high kids at Pine Hollow,” Stevie informed him. “We hang out at the barn all the time.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Mr. Barry said. “Riding is Andrea’s whole life, so it might be hard for her to make friends at school.” He sighed again. “I know this move has been hard on her.”

“Why did you move?” Stevie asked.

“Stevie!” Lisa whispered, kicking her under the table. Lisa was appalled. Sometimes Stevie’s nosiness was really out of control.

But Mr. Barry seemed glad to talk. “I got transferred. I could either stay and keep the job I had for less pay, or move down here and make a little more. Staying would have meant selling Doc. And I could never do that to Andrea. He’s all she has, really …”

“You mean, Tastee Delight transfers people?” Stevie asked. “Wow, I didn’t know working at an ice cream parlor was that—”

This time Lisa’s kick hit home. “Ow!” Stevie said, wincing.

But her comment had actually brought a smile to Mr. Barry’s lips. “This is just my weekend job,” he said, laughing. “I’m a computer salesman during the week. It’s harder than it used to be to make ends meet. Of course, I’m not complaining. I’d do anything to
make Andrea happy. And speaking of jobs, I ought to get back to work. But I’m very glad to have met you both. And enjoy your ice cream, all right?”

Stevie and Lisa waited until Mr. Barry had gone back behind the counter. Then they began talking in hushed tones. Now that Stevie knew that Mrs. Barry had died, Lisa could express how sorry she was for Andrea. Stevie sympathized immediately. So much was clear now. Stevie knew Andrea must still be devastated about her mother. And moving only a year afterward must have been traumatic, to say the least. It was no wonder riding was Andrea’s “whole life.” But there was another element of the story that both Stevie and Lisa had picked up on: The Barrys were far from rich. Mr. Barry was working two jobs to pay for Andrea’s riding. Haltingly, Lisa described the scene at Andrea’s house the night before.

“So nobody was home to let her in?” said Stevie. “On a Saturday night?”

Lisa nodded. “And when I called a half hour later, her dad had come home and gone right to bed.”

Stevie let out a long breath. “I wish I’d known. I would have invited her to my house for the night.” Saturday nights at the Lakes’ were always fun. Stevie’s parents would cook dinner for her and her three brothers and then they would watch TV together or
play games. Stevie couldn’t imagine coming home to a dark, empty house.

“The sad thing is, it probably puts a lot of pressure on Andrea, knowing her dad is sacrificing so much for her,” Lisa pointed out.

“Gee, I’ll bet you’re right,” Stevie said. “I never thought of that.”

The girls ate in silence for a few moments. Then Stevie said, “Obviously, there’s only one thing to do.”

“What?” Lisa asked, though she was fairly certain she knew what Stevie was going to say.

“Simple: make helping Andrea a Saddle Club project,” Stevie replied. “We can’t make her life perfect, but at least we can be her friends.”

“Right. But what about the fact that the Saddle Club member we need most thinks Andrea has a perfect life already?”

“Yeah, but Carole will change her mind once she hears about Andrea’s mother,” Stevie said.

“I guess so,” Lisa said tentatively.

Stevie raised her eyebrows. “You sound skeptical.”

“I did promise Andrea I wouldn’t say anything,” Lisa said.

“Right. And you didn’t.”

“But what if Carole said something and—”

“Carole’s not going to say anything. But if she
knows what Andrea’s been through—and is still going through—she won’t be as competitive with her.”

Lisa didn’t respond right away. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there still seemed something wrong about calling up Carole and telling her very private details about Andrea’s life. Lisa tried to imagine the conversation:
Hi, Carole? Lisa and Stevie. We just wanted you to know that Andrea’s mother died a year ago and the Barrys don’t have much money.

And what if it backfired? What if Carole thought they were trying to force her to be friends with Andrea out of pity? Or that they were suggesting that Carole not try her best at Briarwood? Carole was so hypersensitive about the Silver Stirrups Trophy right now that she really wasn’t herself. There was no telling how she would react.

Lisa voiced some of her doubts to Stevie, but Stevie still thought they should tell Carole what they’d learned.

“If only Carole had been here!” Lisa wished aloud.

“I know.” Stevie glanced at the clock on the wall. “I guess she’s not coming, huh?”

“No. She would have been here by now,” Lisa said. “I’ll bet she stayed at the barn all afternoon.”

Before Stevie could respond, Andrea’s father appeared
at the booth. “Can I get you anything else?” he inquired.

Lisa and Stevie shook their heads. They both felt a little guilty about the discussion they’d been having. “No thanks!” they said in unison.

“All right then, here’s the check. Have a good day, girls.”

Normally The Saddle Club were fair but not big tippers. Today, however, both Lisa and Stevie tipped generously. They smiled when they realized they’d had the same idea.

“Oats for Country Doctor?” Lisa inquired, pointing at Stevie’s pile of quarters.

Stevie shook her head. “Entry fees for Andrea.”

I
T WAS STILL
early, so Stevie and Lisa decided to sit in the sun for a while. Lisa thought they ought to discuss the other Saddle Club project.

“What’s there to discuss?” Stevie said glumly. “The show’s a week away and Red doesn’t have a horse.”

Lisa had to admit that Stevie was right. She had racked her brains, but for the life of her she could not come up with an appropriate mount. “I keep thinking about how excited Red looked yesterday when he got his ribbon,” she said.

“Heck, he even looked excited when Kismet acted up and he got two refusals,” said Stevie. “I think he’s finally realized how much he’s been missing by not showing.”

“And now he’s going to keep missing it,” Lisa remarked.

None of the stores the girls visited cheered them up, so a half hour later they left the shopping center, despondent instead of psyched as they normally were after a trip to TD’s. “This time next week, the Silver Stirrups winner will have been decided,” Lisa said.

“Hey, you’re right,” said Stevie.

“I wonder whether it’ll be Carole or Andrea,” Lisa mused.

Stevie stopped. “Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘I wonder—’ ”

“I heard what you said,” Stevie interrupted. “I just didn’t like it. In the first place, Briarwood is a huge show. Junior riders come from all over. Half of them are capable of beating Carole
and
Andrea on any given day. In the second place,
you
and
I
are capable of beating Carole and Andrea. And don’t you forget it, Lisa.”

Lisa grinned. “You know, I had forgotten. Thanks, Stevie.”

Briefly, the girls discussed the classes they were entering.
Lisa thought Prancer was ready for the three-foot hunter division, but she was going to stick to two-foot-six just to be safe. And despite her success at the schooling show, Stevie was going to enter Belle only in junior jumper classes—to be safe and, more importantly, to have fun.

“Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lisa said.

Stevie didn’t respond. She was staring over her shoulder. Lisa turned and followed her gaze. Mr. Barry was coming out of the ice cream parlor. At first Lisa was glad to see that he had changed out of his TD’s uniform. He was probably on his way home. But then she looked closer. The Tastee Delight outfit had been replaced with a second uniform. With a sinking feeling, Lisa recognized the rust and yellow of the local fast-food Mexican restaurant.