Blue Ribbon Summer (10 page)

“Easy, Brooke.” Robin had hurried into the ring at that very moment. “It won't help to lose patience with her. Here, let's try it again. . . .”

“Thanks.” Brooke noticed that a man had also appeared and was leaning on the rail, watching. He was around
Robin's age or maybe a little younger, tall and well-groomed in khaki pants and a polo shirt.

Robin noticed her looking. “Brooke, that's Preston,” she said. “He'll be helping out with some of our activities this week. Preston, this is Brooke Rhodes.”

“Hello, Brooke,” Preston said with a brief smile.

“Hi.” Brooke felt self-conscious with the man watching, but with Robin holding Foxy's head, the mare finally stood still long enough for Brooke to mount.

However, the lesson only went downhill from there.

“Quiet legs, Brooke,” Robin called from the center of the ring as Foxy jumped into a canter when Brooke was trying to get her to trot in a circle. “But Foxy is bending better today—nice work.”

Brooke hardly heard the compliment. Foxy had just spurted forward again, even though Brooke was sure she hadn't moved her legs at all.

“Watch it!” Livi exclaimed, pulling her horse to a halt just in time to avoid a collision.

“Sorry,” Brooke muttered, wrestling Foxy into a circle to slow her down. But the mare didn't settle until they
started some gymnastic exercises over low jumps, which Foxy actually seemed to enjoy. By then, however, Brooke's own mood had soured beyond repair.

“Nice riding, everyone,” Robin said after the girls had all gone through the exercise for the third or fourth time. “We'll quit there.”

“Really?” Paige sounded disappointed. “I was hoping we'd finally do some higher jumps today.”

“It's not about the height of the jumps, Paige,” Robin said.

She started lecturing about basics and the foundations of riding, but Brooke wasn't really listening. Would the other girls already be jumping three-foot courses if she wasn't here? The thought made her wince.

As the whole group left the ring, Robin checked her watch. “Abby's going to be late today, so you guys are on your own while I teach the olders' lesson,” she said. “How about if you take a walk to the farm stand after you put your horses away? It would be nice to have some fresh peaches for dessert.”

“You mean the farm stand up the road where that cute
high school boy works?” Livi brightened. “I'm in!”

“Me too,” Hannah and Paige chorused.

Brooke didn't say anything until after all the horses were untacked, groomed, and turned out into the pasture. As the other girls set out for the driveway, she hung back.

“I think I'll skip the walk,” she called. “I didn't have time for a shower this morning, and I thought I'd take one now.”

“Are you sure?” Paige asked. “The guy who works there is really cute!”

“Let her stay.” Hannah adjusted her ponytail and wet her lips. “I don't need any more competition.”

Livi laughed. “Catch you later, Brooke.”

Half an hour later, Brooke toweled off her hair as she stepped out of the steamy bunkhouse bathroom. Her long, hot shower had actually improved her mood a little—and abruptly running out of hot water at the end had finally chased away the last of her lingering sleepiness.

As she wandered over to her bunk in search of clean
clothes, she heard raised voices drifting in from outside.

It was Robin and Preston. Once again they were involved in a heated discussion, this time in what they probably thought was a private spot behind the barn. Didn't the two of them ever do anything but argue? Brooke froze, clutching her towel and wishing they'd move on.

“And if you're going to sell, this is the time to do it,” Preston was saying forcefully. “The offer won't be there forever.”

Brooke flashed back to what the girls had told her the night before—that Preston had wanted to help Robin sell the farm. But that had happened ages ago, and Robin had said no, hadn't she?

“I'm just not ready to commit,” Robin said. “Your friend might be on a tight schedule, but this is my home.”

“I know, I know. But you've been complaining about being short on funds, and the developer really wants to move on this—there's a huge demand for high-end condos in this area, and most of the landowners won't budge. If you're the first one to jump on this offer, you can pretty much write your own ticket.”

Brooke gasped, almost dropping her towel. Was Preston seriously suggesting that Robin sell the farm so that someone could tear it down and build a bunch of ugly condos?

“And I told you, I don't have time for this right now, Preston.” Robin's voice was clipped. “Maybe in a few weeks, after camp is over . . .”

“Won't you at least talk to the man before then?” Preston sounded frustrated, but his next words were gentler. “I know it's hard to part with this place, but think about it, Robin. You'd clear more than enough to move anywhere you like. You could stop worrying about money. You wouldn't even have to work if you didn't want to, never mind running yourself ragged like you've been doing since your daughter moved out.”

“I'm fine. I'm used to hard work.”

“I know. But wouldn't it be nice to take a break, try something different for a while? Maybe the two of us could move to New York City, near your daughter. Won't you promise me you'll at least consider this deal? Consider what it could mean for you—for us?”

Robin didn't answer for a moment. “Fine, okay. I'll consider it. But not right now. I'm already late for the olders' lesson.”

The next thing Brooke heard was footsteps hurrying away. She sank onto her bed, not caring that she was dripping all over her sheets as she tried to take in what she'd just heard. Her eyes filled with tears as she imagined bulldozers knocking down the barn and backhoes digging up the lush pastures. This land, this whole part of the peninsula, was so special, so wild and beautiful and unspoiled. A bunch of condos would change that forever. Brooke couldn't bear the thought. Robin wouldn't actually sell Pocomoke Stables to Preston's developer friend—would she?

On Thursday morning Brooke awoke from restless, disturbing dreams in which skyscrapers kept sprouting up on Assateague Island until the ponies were all crowded out into the sea. She hadn't said a word to anyone about what she'd overheard the day before, though she couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe she wasn't having as much fun at Camp Pocomoke as she'd expected, but it was still horrible
to think about a place like this being plowed under.

She remained distracted as she tacked up for the morning lesson. “Hey, is that a new trend?” Hannah called from the next set of crossties.

“Huh?” Brooke blinked at the other girl.

Hannah grinned and waved a hand toward Foxy. “Foxy's halter. You're putting it on inside out.”

“Oops.” Brooke realized she was right. She quickly fixed the halter, frowning at it.

Paige was walking by on her way to the tack room, but she stopped and stared at Brooke. “Are you okay? You seem kind of—I don't know, bummed out today.”

“Yeah,” Livi said, coming up behind Paige. “You hardly said a word at breakfast.”

Brooke wasn't sure how Livi could tell, since she and the other two had spent the entire meal blabbing about shopping and haircuts and other boring topics. “I'm just a little tired, I guess.” Brooke reached for a bottle of fly spray and aimed it at Foxy's side.

“Stop!” Paige cried, grabbing the bottle out of Brooke's hand. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Brooke said with a flash of irritation. “Robin said we should all share the fly spray, and I need it for Foxy—the blackflies ate her alive yesterday.”

“Yeah, but this isn't fly spray.” Paige shook the bottle at her. “It's Show Sheen. If you spray it all over her, your saddle will slide right off next time you ride!”

“Plus, it won't do a thing for the flies,” Livi put in.

“Oops,” Brooke said again, feeling flustered. “Sorry about that. I'm just distracted because of what Preston . . . um, I mean . . .” She stopped, realizing she'd almost blurted out what she'd overheard.

“Preston what?” Hannah's gaze was sharp and curious as she dropped her brush and came closer. “What is it, Brooke? What did Preston do?”

Livi gasped. “I know! Is he planning to propose to Robin?” She clapped her hands. “I knew it! That must be why he's hanging around so much this week. It's about time—they've been dating forever!”

“No, nothing like that,” Brooke said. “I mean, not that I know of. I mean . . .”

Glancing around at the three girls, she knew she wasn't
going to be able to resist their voracious appetite for gossip. Besides, why not tell them the truth? They obviously had a lot of happy memories of this place. Maybe they could figure out how to change Robin's mind if she really was thinking about selling.

“It's something I heard yesterday,” Brooke said. “Robin and Preston were talking—they didn't know I was nearby. Preston was trying to talk her into selling Pocomoke Stables to some developer friend of his who wants to build condos here.”

She held her breath, waiting for the other girls to explode with outrage and dismay. Instead, they exchanged a puzzled glance.

Then Hannah shrugged. “Are you sure you heard them right?”

“Yeah, Preston's always talking about some boring real estate deal or other,” Livi added. “You probably misunderstood.”

Paige nodded. “Robin would never sell Pocomoke Stables. She's owned it for like twenty years—she and her husband built the place together before he died.”

Brooke frowned. “I know what I heard. They were definitely talking about selling Pocomoke!”

The others traded another look. “Okay, if you say so.” Hannah sounded skeptical. “It's just, we know Robin pretty well. . . .”

“So are you calling me a liar? I know what I heard!” Brooke clenched her fists at her sides, suddenly tired of this whole conversation. Exhausted, actually. What did she care if they believed her? She was never coming back here again if she could help it anyway. So what if their precious camp got plowed under? Their rich parents would probably just buy some of the fancy condos that replaced it!

“Brooke, listen.” Paige's tone was reasonable, but Brooke wasn't listening. She'd had enough.

Unclipping Foxy from the crossties, Brooke snapped on a lead rope with shaking hands and gave a tug. The pony, who had been half asleep, awoke with a start and allowed herself to be dragged down the aisle.

“Brooke, hang on.” Paige hurried after her. “We didn't mean to make you mad.”

Brooke didn't respond. As soon as she got outside, she vaulted onto Foxy's bare back.

“Brooke!” This time Paige sounded alarmed. “Stop! If you ride off alone again, Robin will—”

The clatter of Foxy's hooves on the cobblestones drowned out the rest. Brooke didn't look back as she headed for the grass, then turned and nudged her pony into a trot. So what if she got in trouble again? Good! Maybe Robin would be so angry, she'd send her home. Then Brooke wouldn't have to spend another moment worrying about this stupid place.

“Come on, Foxy,” she whispered, giving a cluck and a squeeze to send the mare into a canter. “Let's get out of here.”

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