Horse Thief (3 page)

Veronica began talking about the new dressage bridle and saddle that she was planning to buy in time for Saturday’s rally. Everyone except Veronica noticed the grim expression on Denise’s face.

Stevie started to say something, but Phil beat her to it. “Oh Veronica, dahling,” he drawled. “I saw this diamond-studded saddle—with stirrups of pure gold, no less—that would be simply perfect for you. It’s an absolute
must-have
for fancy-pants riders. I’m sure you won’t be able to
live
with yourself until you get it.”

Carole, Lisa, and Stevie started giggling at Phil’s little recital. Even Denise smiled a little.

Veronica, though, was furious. She started to say something but then caught a glimpse of Denise’s smile, which made her turn bright red in embarrassment. Veronica admired Denise because of her Pony Club credentials—in Veronica’s mind, Denise’s A rating was all that mattered. The fact that Denise had witnessed her humiliation made Veronica even madder. She glowered at Phil and said threateningly, “Just you wait, Phil Marsten. I’ll make you eat your words next week at the rally! No one will ever
talk to you again when I’m through with you!” With that, she stormed out of the tack room.

Lisa looked worried. “What do you suppose Veronica is going to do?” she asked.

“A great big nothing,” said Stevie in a disgusted tone. “She thinks she’s going to beat Phil in the competition, but that’s impossible. Phil’s a much better rider than Veronica.”

This wasn’t entirely true. Although Phil was a very good rider, Veronica was, too, and her father’s money had helped her acquire a very fine horse, Danny, who always did the right thing with or without Veronica’s help.

Nevertheless, Carole and Lisa loyally agreed with Stevie. All four said good-bye to Denise and headed off to talk to Mrs. Reg, who helped run the stable. They were all looking forward to their sweet snack at TD’s—anything to take away the bad taste of Veronica.

“I
DON
’
T KNOW
what we should do for our anniversary celebration,” Stevie said into the phone. “I keep hoping that maybe I’ll hit the lottery, and then I can treat us to a really terrific dinner and a fancy show with a limo thrown in for good measure.”

On the other end, Phil chuckled. “You never
play
the lottery,” he said. “I’m pretty sure you have to play to win. It’s all a big waste of money, anyway. Most people spend a fortune on tickets without ever seeing a dime.”

“I guess,” Stevie said sadly. She certainly didn’t want to waste any more money. But she also wanted a good get-rich-quick scheme, preferably one that would make her rich in a day or two. It was Wednesday, and the dressage rally was only three days away.
Even if I hadn’t
spent half my allowance on TD’s and that cool electronic-buzzer keychain that I didn’t really need, I still wouldn’t have been able to buy that new snaffle bridle
, she reminded herself. But she didn’t feel any better.

“Stevie, have you gone off to Mars?” Phil asked with a slight hint of impatience.

“I’m sorry,” Stevie said, returning to earth. “I just went off to tack heaven for a few seconds. You know—the place in the sky where you get all your riding equipment, brand-new and for free.”

“Very funny,” said Phil. He sounded a little miffed. “Are you still thinking about that bridle?”

“Yes, but it’s pointless,” sighed Stevie. “I’m not going to be able to get it before Saturday, or even in the next century, if I keep spending money the way I do. What were you saying?”

“I was trying to discuss our anniversary plans,” Phil said pointedly. “I wanted to know how you felt about dinner after the dressage rally.”

“Are you out of your skull?” Stevie demanded. “We were just talking about how broke we both are!”

“No, no,” said Phil, his voice reassuring. “I’ve been thinking about it, Stevie, and I know a way to do it without spending a lot of money. I’ll pack a picnic dinner for us—my mother promised to give me her secret chicken salad recipe. We can eat on the lawn at Pine Hollow after the rally. I’ll bring a blanket and candles
and everything. I’ve already cleared it with Max. What do you think?”

Stevie thought it was a great idea. Even though she and Phil had been going out for a long time, she sometimes felt as if their relationship was entirely centered on horses and riding. But every once in a while, Phil surprised her with something incredibly romantic like this picnic idea. “I’m very glad to know you, Phil Marsten,” she said solemnly. “And to show you how glad I am, I’ll help with the picnic dinner. Just tell me what to bring.”

“Uh, no thanks, Stevie,” Phil answered quickly. “Not to knock your cooking or anything, but I really think we want something … er … more ordinary than your usual meals.”

“What’s wrong with my usual meals?” Stevie demanded indignantly, though she had an idea of what was on his mind. She liked to think of her kitchen failures as
interesting
, though that wasn’t the word her friends chose to describe her dishes.

“I’ve seen those awful sundaes you eat at TD’s,” Phil replied. “And something lurks in my memory about green hamburgers. I think we’ll do better if you just sit back and let me take care of you this time. One can’t live on romance alone—and my stomach will certainly confirm that fact.”

Stevie giggled. “I’m sure you’ll be getting more than a little help from your mother, but I appreciate the
thought,” she said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And Phil,” she added softly, “you’re the greatest.”

After they hung up, Stevie wandered over to her closet. If she had been excited about the dressage rally before, now she could hardly wait for Saturday. First she would compete in the rally itself, and then she would have a romantic picnic dinner with Phil. She looked over her riding clothes and picked out her best jacket, her best pair of breeches, and her white stock tie. No cowboy boots for Saturday, no jeans with patches on them. She and her horse had to look their best, and she planned to put in some extra time grooming Belle that week.

Thinking about the dressage bridle, Stevie became glum again. The chance of her getting one before the rally was looking pretty slim. But she had ridden in plenty of dressage exhibitions and rallies with her old bridle, and she figured that she would just do it again.

She stuck her head out her bedroom door. “Mom!” she yelled. “Can you please help me iron my tie for Saturday?” With or without a new bridle, Stevie planned to be prepared.

T
HE NEXT DAY
, Carole, Lisa, and Stevie all gathered after school for another dressage practice.

After practicing for two hours, The Saddle Club walked their horses to cool them down. As usual, they talked as they walked. The horses seemed to listen, too,
twitching their ears back at different parts of the conversation. “How’s Prancer doing? Is she still acting funny?” Carole asked Lisa.

Lisa frowned. “Judy came and took a look at her on Monday,” she said. “She couldn’t find anything wrong with her, so she told me to keep a close eye on her and call if anything specific happens.”

Carole nodded. “Like not finishing her food or nipping at her flanks?” she guessed.

“Exactly,” Lisa said glumly.

“Why are you frowning, then?” Stevie asked. “Prancer’s fine.”

Shaking her head, Lisa said, “No, she’s not. I know that medically she’s okay, and I’m relieved. But she’s not acting like her usual self. She’s just been in a weird mood lately.”

Carole and Stevie didn’t doubt Lisa for a second. She might be the least experienced rider out of the three of them, but she was also the most sensible and logical and wasn’t given to paranoid hunches. Plus, she rode Prancer more than any other rider at Pine Hollow. If anyone could sense a change in the mare, Lisa could.

After their horses were cooled and groomed, the girls gathered in the tack room. Cleaning tack seemed a never-ending task, since it had to be done after each use. While they rubbed their saddles with saddle soap, they
talked about what they were going to wear for the dressage rally and speculated on the competition. Then Stevie talked about Phil’s idea for their anniversary celebration.

“You are one lucky girlfriend,” Carole said admiringly. Even though she was usually more interested in horses than boys, she was impressed by Phil’s romantic idea.

“I know,” Stevie said. “I can hardly wait for Saturday. Even if I won’t have a new dressage bridle, I’m sure the whole day will be a blast.”

At that moment, the three girls overheard Max in his office, talking in a loud, annoyed voice to his mother. “I can’t take it anymore,” he was saying. “At least a third of the hay delivered this afternoon was rotten. The supplier obviously left it out in the rain. It was musty and smelled awful, completely unfit for horses.”

Mrs. Reg said something in a soothing tone that the girls couldn’t quite catch.

“No, no, no,” Max answered impatiently. “I’ve already given him a few chances, so don’t give me any stories about people learning from their mistakes! Feed is just too important to mess around with. I’m going to call him up and demand a refund for the spoiled portion, then switch back to Mike Morgan. He’s more expensive, but it’s worth it. I’m sorry I ever switched in the first place.”

The girls heard Max pick up the phone and dial a
number and then begin to speak in firm, decisive tones. Stevie shook her head. “Brother,” she said, in a low voice. “Running a stable is hard work.”

“You said it,” agreed Carole. She sometimes dreamed of owning a stable someday, but she knew that a lot of thought and planning went into running a place like Pine Hollow. In fact, making decisions about things like feed suppliers and money seemed like the most boring thing about owning a stable. Cleaning tack, by comparison, was almost fun.

“I haven’t noticed anything wrong with the feed, have you?” Stevie asked.

“No,” Lisa said. “But then Max checks it over before it gets put in the stable. We’d never know anything was wrong because he does such a good job.”

The three girls went back to discussing the upcoming rally and Stevie’s picnic. They could hardly wait for Saturday.

“W
HAT A GORGEOUS
day!” exclaimed Stevie. Pine Hollow, which was always beautiful to those who loved it, almost glowed in the sunshine. After what had felt like weeks of rain, Saturday had dawned bright and clear. The mugginess had lifted, and a few white clouds dotted a breathtakingly blue sky. The girls were sure it was an omen and that the rally would be as perfect as the weather.

Stevie, Carole, and Lisa were in the stable, grooming their horses. Although it was still a few hours before the rally, The Saddle Club had agreed to get to Pine Hollow especially early to get the horses into show condition and to help Denise with last-minute preparations for guests and spectators.

“You can’t ask for a better day for dressage,” said Carole. She was carefully oiling one of Starlight’s hooves.

Lisa didn’t say anything. She was examining Prancer. The mare looked healthy, but something was still wrong. She kept poking her nose over the door of her stall as if she expected something. Lisa had a hard time getting her to stand still as she groomed her. If she didn’t know better, she would almost guess that Prancer looked as if she were
yearning
for something. She was a little fidgety, too, but that wasn’t uncommon for Prancer. “What is it, girl?” Lisa asked the horse. “What can I do for you that I haven’t already done?” The mare shook her head and snorted.

Stevie started braiding Belle’s mane. She brushed it with a wet brush and divided it into twelve even sections. Then she neatly divided each section into three smaller sections, braided the three sections together, then looped the braid under and sewed it tight with yarn. Stevie could be a messy person about many things—her parents had labeled her room a disaster area on several occasions—but not about dressage preparation. Her boots gleamed and her stock tie was perfectly pressed.

“Stevie,” called Lisa, “I can’t get my sections even!”

“Stevie,” called Carole, “can you help me sew this one section? I can’t seem to tuck it under!” Dressage preparation was one of the few areas concerning riding where
Carole ended up asking Stevie for advice, instead of the other way around.