New Rider (7 page)

Dr. Trudell smiled slightly. “I can see you take your responsibilities to your horse very seriously, which says a lot about your character. I’ll tell you what: If your CAT scan comes back clean, you have my permission to stop by and check on Belle.”

Stevie’s heart leaped with gratitude.

“But”—the doctor held up a warning finger—“only for a few minutes. After that it’s home and right to bed.”

Her parents nodded their agreement.

Contented now, Stevie wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She couldn’t wait to get back to Pine Hollow.

S
TEVIE WAS OUT
of the car almost before it had stopped. She was dismayed to see Judy Barker’s light blue pickup in front of the stables, and her stomach clenched. If the veterinarian was still there, then Belle’s injury must have been a lot worse than Max had thought.

She hurried into the stable and directly to the mare’s stall, where she spotted Carole putting some of Judy’s equipment back into the medical kit.

“How is she, Carole?” Stevie asked, almost sick with worry.

“Stevie?” Carole cried, her eyes wide with surprise. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?”

“I’m fine, only a little concussion like Max thought. I can’t ride for a while, though,” she added gloomily.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried about you. We all were, even Zach.”

Stevie was touched by everyone’s concern, but she really had to find out about her horse. “How’s Belle?”

“Mind if I field that one, Carole?” Judy asked, rising up from inside the mare’s stall.

“Sorry, Judy, I didn’t see you in there.” Stevie moved to join the veterinarian inside. To her it looked like nothing had changed since she’d left. The mare still wore a neat white bandage on her foreleg, which she continued to hold slightly off the ground. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s going to be fine,” Judy assured her, patting the mare gently on the neck. “Max did the right thing by applying the pressure bandage. There’s no permanent injury.”

Stevie felt her body sag with relief. She leaned her cheek against Belle’s warm neck and gave her a hug. “Boy, am I glad to hear that. I’ve been really worried about you, girl.”

“Your horse has a sprained tendon,” Judy explained. “She probably stumbled and caught herself when she got away from you. It’s a fairly common injury, especially in the forelegs, because they’re more delicate but still have to carry the majority of the horse’s
weight—head, neck, shoulders. Fortunately Belle’s injury isn’t severe.”

Lisa had joined Carole at the stall door. “Now for the bad news,” she said. “Judy says you won’t be able to ride her for at least two, maybe even three weeks.”

Stevie’s heart sank. “But the show is in two weeks!”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Judy said, “but you should be grateful it won’t be longer than that. I’ve seen horses with this kind of injury take up to six weeks to get sound again.”

“Bad luck,” Carole commiserated.

Stevie was disappointed, but at least Belle was going to be all right. “That’s okay. Like Judy said, it could have been worse.”

Lisa looked sad. “It won’t be the same without you competing.”

Stevie shrugged, determined to make the best of it. “On the plus side, this means I’ll have more time to coach Zach.”

Lisa brightened. “With his riding and your coaching, I predict two weeks from now Pine Hollow will rule!”

Stevie noticed Carole was giving them a skeptical look. “Do you doubt?” she asked her.

“How could he possibly fail?” Carole replied with little enthusiasm.

Stevie was about to question her friend further when she heard her mother calling. She quickly gave her horse one last pat, thanked Judy, and headed gratefully for home. Whatever was bothering Carole would have to wait.

C
AROLE DOUBLE
-
CHECKED
the supply of fresh bandages in the veterinary cupboard. For the next week, at least, Belle’s leg would need to be massaged every morning and night and then re-bound, so she wanted to be sure they had enough supplies on hand.

At the same time she checked the foaling supplies they would need for Sunset’s delivery. Tail bandages, head collars, feeding bottles, milk replacer … By the time she had worked her way through the inventory, she was satisfied they would be able to handle any emergency that might arise.

Although Sunset had shown no signs that she was ready to give birth anytime soon, Carole decided to look in on the mare anyway. The horse was not in her
stall, so she checked the small private paddock out back. She spotted the mare in the far corner of the enclosed space and slowly approached. “Hey, girl, what are you up to?”

As she got closer she could see something was wrong—not with the horse, but with the fence. The wood was chipped away and splintered. One of the boards had actually cracked, as if the mare had been kicking and pawing at it.

Worried by Sunset’s behavior, she led the mare back into her stall and shut the door to the paddock, then went to find Red O’Malley, the head stable hand. Red was working in the barn.

“Hi, Red,” she called.

“Oh, hi, Carole,” he greeted her with a friendly smile. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

“I was about to take off, but when I checked on Sunset I discovered she’d been trying to run away.”

Red stopped working. “Run away? How?”

“She’s been pawing and leaning on the fence to her paddock. She’s actually managed to break one of the boards.”

Red frowned. “That can be dangerous. I’d better take a look at it. Thanks for letting me know.” He set off across the yard.

Carole went with him. “Red, do all pregnant mares
behave like that, or do you think something’s wrong with her?”

“Lots of changes happen when a mare is this far along,” he explained. “Most of them become antisocial, then nervous. The fact that Sunset is away from home in unfamiliar surroundings makes it all the harder for her. Most likely she wanted more privacy, or maybe she just wanted to explore.” He shrugged. “It’s hard to say.”

“Then you don’t think it’s something to worry about?”

“I doubt it.” He let himself into the stall. Sunset was standing in a corner with her back to them. “You know, most horses manage foaling with very little trouble. It’s the people who care about them that have the difficulty.” He winked at her. “Don’t worry so much. I think she’s fine.”

Carole smiled. “Thanks, Red.”

He gave her a thumbs-up and disappeared into the paddock.

Reassured by his words, Carole moved closer to the mare to stroke her. “Is that it, girl?” she crooned gently. “Are you just nervous? You don’t have to be scared. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you or your baby.”

For her part, Sunset seemed entirely indifferent to Carole’s assurances and caresses. She tolerated them
for a moment or two, then moved restlessly away to begin the laborious process of lying down. With much grunting and groaning she managed to lower herself onto the soft hay.

“I guess I can take a hint,” Carole told the horse. “You obviously don’t care for any company.”

The mare closed her eyes.

Carole checked the water and food. “Okay, I’m leaving now.”

Sunset gave a soft snort, but Carole was almost certain it was meant to be a fake snore.

“No, no, don’t get up, I think I can find my way out,” she said, laughing. “See you tomorrow, girl.”

She latched the stall door carefully and headed for home.

T
HE NEXT AFTERNOON
the Saddle Club members all arrived at Pine Hollow at practically the same moment.

“Hi, Stevie,” Lisa called. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, how’s the bump?” Carole asked.

“Beats a poke in the eye with a sharp stick,” she told them, smiling. “Then again, what doesn’t?”

Lisa laughed. “Healthy attitude.”

The sound of hoofbeats drew Carole’s attention to the outdoor ring. “What’s up over there?”

“Looks like Zach is taking a lesson with Max,”
Stevie said. “He’s one of the reasons I came over today.”

“Let’s see how it’s going,” Lisa suggested.

“Oh, be still my heart,” Carole mumbled, reluctantly trailing behind her friends. For reasons she could not figure out, she still felt distant from Zach. It was not that she didn’t like him, but she definitely didn’t get the same thrill from watching him ride that everybody else seemed to. As they approached, it became more and more obvious that Zach wasn’t a happy camper.

“It’s just not happening for me, Max,” he complained loudly.

“You’re going to have to give it time, Zach,” Max counseled. “You’re doing fine, but you can’t expect to master it all in a day. It takes time.”

Zach was frowning. “How much time?”

Max put his hands in his pockets. “I know people who have been riding their entire lives and they tell me they still learn something new every day.”

“Maybe they’re slow studies,” Stevie cracked from her position on the fence.

Max glanced at her. “I see that knock on the head hasn’t improved your jokes, Stevie.”

Stevie feigned surprise. “Max, how can you improve on perfection?”

Zach laughed.

Max turned back to the boy. “That’s better. You need to relax, be patient.”

“I don’t think patience is Zach’s strong suit,” Carole murmured to her friends.

“But I thought you said I was a natural,” Zach complained to Max.

“You are,” he assured him. “You have a rare gift and you owe it to yourself to nurture it.”

Zach looked unconvinced. “I guess.”

“I have to go now, but you can keep practicing if you want,” Max told him. “We’ll arrange for another lesson later in the week.”

Carole felt a pang of jealousy. More private lessons! Zach sure was getting the golden-boy treatment.

Zach rode Barq over to the girls and casually slid down from the saddle. “Hi, guys. What’s up?”

In spite of herself, Carole couldn’t help admiring the unconscious grace of his movements. It took most people months, if not years, to learn to dismount a horse so fluidly.

“I thought maybe we could get in some practice for the show,” Stevie suggested.

“Thanks, but Max beat you to it.”

Lisa reached out to stroke Barq. “Sounded like you were having some problems.”

“Yeah. It was kind of a drag. I think I’ll call it quits for now.”

“How long have you been out here?” Lisa asked.

Zach shrugged. “Almost an hour, I guess.” He scuffed at the dirt. “Max didn’t even let me gallop.”

Carole was tempted to tell him there was a lot more to riding than galloping, but she held her tongue. She couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to care about all the hundreds of details that went into making up a polished rider, or the thousands of details that it took to become a responsible horse owner. She’d spent countless hours studying and learning as much as she could about the subject. Zach, on the other hand, had probably spent endless hours playing video games. Instant gratification. Typical boy.

“An hour’s not much practice time when you think about how close we are to the show,” Lisa said, voicing Carole’s thoughts. “Why don’t you let us work with you for a while?”

“I don’t know …”

“Come on, Zach,” Stevie coaxed. “Since I can’t ride for a while, you’d practically be doing me a favor.”

Listening to Stevie trying to convince the boy into letting her help him really annoyed Carole. He should have been down on his hands and knees begging her, grateful for all the experience she was offering to share.

Zach relented. “Okay. You talked me in to it. On one condition.”

“What’s that,” asked Stevie.

“I get to canter at least a couple of times during the lesson.”

Stevie and Lisa laughed. “Agreed,” they said in unison.

Stevie turned to Carole. “How about it, Carole, are you in on this?”

“Sorry, no can do,” she begged off. “I have to check on Sunset.”

“We’ll see you later then,” Stevie said. “Come on, Zach, tell us what you were having trouble with, and Lisa and I will try to figure out how to help.”

Carole quickly made herself scarce, retiring to Sunset’s stall. The mare was pacing restlessly, which was usually a sign that a horse wasn’t ready to drop her foal yet. Carole decided a good grooming was in order.

She collected her equipment and, after carefully cross-tying Sunset, began to give her a thorough cleaning. From where she was working she could hear bits and pieces of what the others were up to outside in the ring.

“Olé!”
Stevie shouted.

That was Carole’s clue that they were working on a game called horseback bullfighting. Carole hadn’t
played it in a long time, but she remembered it was a fun way to practice turns on the forehand and the hindquarters. The idea was to have someone, on foot or mounted, trot toward you, aiming at your stirrup. At the last moment you have to move your horse’s hindquarters out of the way without getting touched. As the fake bull goes by, you turn and face it, making a 180-degree turn like a bullfighter does.

“Olé!”
Stevie cried again. “You’re doing great, Zach!”

“You’re doing great, Zach,” Carole mimicked to herself. She tried to put the noise out of her mind and concentrate on what she was doing, but every time Lisa or Stevie showered Zach with praises, it made her grit her teeth.