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Stevie smiled wickedly. “No, of course not, but wouldn’t it be funny if he came in one day and found sardine skeletons floating in the bowl?”

Stevie couldn’t help giggling at the picture. Her friends didn’t find it quite so funny.

“So …,” Stevie said, shutting the dishwasher door and hitting the Start button. “Are we done here? Because if we are, may I suggest we call a meeting of The Saddle Club?”

The Saddle Club, a club the three girls had formed,
had only two rules: one, you had to be absolutely horse-crazy, and two, you had to be willing to help the other members out, no matter what. Since they were all head over heels about horses and the best of friends, the rules were easy to follow. Of course from time to time Stevie’s practical jokes landed her in hot water, leaving her two pals to bail her out. They didn’t mind, though, because she had a good and fun-loving heart, and even though she came from a well-off family, she never put on any airs or graces like some other people—namely, her arch rival at the stable, the snobby Veronica diAngelo.

Lisa was the least experienced rider of the three, but she was progressing very quickly, and her friends and riding instructors said she had natural ability. She was definitely the most levelheaded of the group, although she tended to put a lot of pressure on herself to over-achieve. Stevie and Carole were helping her learn to lighten up and have fun.

Although one grade behind Lisa, Carole was the most experienced horsewoman. After her mother died of cancer, her dad encouraged her riding by buying a horse, which Carole named Starlight. She knew one thing for certain: whatever she decided to be in life, it was definitely going to have to do with horses. The possibilities included becoming a veterinarian, owning
and breeding horses, and maybe being a professional rider.

Once safely behind the locked door of Stevie’s bedroom, the girls’ talk quickly turned to the upcoming Horse Wise meeting at Pine Hollow Stables. At their last meeting, the owner of the stables, Maxmillian Regnery III—whom everybody just called Max—had hinted at a very special upcoming project, and the girls were dying to find out what it was.

“I suppose it could be another guest lecturer,” Lisa speculated.

“How about another overnight trail ride?” suggested Stevie. “I love those.”

Carole threw a pillow at her. “That’s because Phil sometimes gets to come along.”

Stevie’s boyfriend, Phil Marsten, lived out of town, so he and Stevie only got to see each other once or twice a month, but they talked on the phone often. They were both horse-crazy.

Stevie laughed, ducking her friend’s fluffy missile. “So what’s your point?”

Before Carole could answer there was a knock on the door. She started to get up to open it, but Stevie launched herself across the room, blocking the way.
“Don’t open it! Don’t even make any noise!” She pulled her two friends toward the closet, whispering urgently in their ears. “Brothers! Revenge! Retribution! We’ve got to hide!”

She yanked open the door and a knee-deep mound of very horsey-smelling laundry fell out. Lisa backed away, waving a hand under her nose. “Phew, I’m not going in there!”

“Stevie, open up!” Chad called through the door. He sounded annoyed.

“Quick, under the bed!” cried Stevie.

Carole dropped to her knees, lifted the ruffle, and stopped dead.

“What’s the matter?” asked Stevie.

“Have you looked under here lately?”

“What about it?”

“Do you remember all those things that disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle? I think I just found them.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.”

Carole gave her a look, reached under the ruffle, and pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms covered in dust bunnies. That was followed by an old hairbrush, a yo-yo with no string, a few mismatched socks, and a stuffed blue dog coated nose to tail in lint and dust.

Stevie unhesitatingly grabbed the plush toy and hugged it. “Wubbie! There you are!”

“What’s this?” asked Carole, studying the last object she’d extracted. “Your history report?”

“Hey, I’ve been looking for that all over the place.”

“When exactly was it due?” Lisa asked.

“Actually, a week ago. But it’s okay, I told my teacher the dog ate it.”

“Stevie, you don’t have a dog,” Carole reminded her.

Stevie held up the stuffed hound dog with a grin.

Lisa shook her head, chuckling. “Sometimes I just don’t believe you.”

“It’s not like I didn’t do the work,” Stevie said sulkily.

Pounding rattled the door. Stevie figured that outside of jumping through the window and sliding down the drainpipe, there was no avenue of escape. She had seriously considered the possibility, but they were already in their nightgowns and it might prove undignified. She opened the door.

All three brothers stood there.

“About time,” Alex griped.

Stevie braced herself for a possible water balloon attack but nothing happened.

“Can we talk to you?” Chad asked.

“I can’t say I’ve seen any evidence of talking so far tonight,” whispered Lisa to Carole. They both giggled.

“All right, come in. But no funny business.”

“Truce.”

The boys walked in. “Look, we guys got talking, and I think I’ve figured out why Mom and Dad came unglued tonight,” Chad said. “They’ve got a major anniversary coming up in two weeks.”

“That’s right!” cried Stevie. “I totally forgot.”

Her parent’s twentieth wedding anniversary. How could she have forgotten such an important event? She had a hard enough time just imagining herself ever being twenty, let alone being married for twenty years. “We’ve got to get them something spectacular!”

“That’s what we thought, too,” agreed Chad.

“Then Alex suggested—”

“And me!” Michael cried, pushing forward, not wanting to be left out.

“And Michael,” amended Chad. “They suggested that if we all pooled our money, maybe we could come
up with something really cool, instead of just four average presents.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Carole said from the bed.

“Not bad at all,” added Lisa.

“But what can we get them?” Stevie asked.

“What about one of those Caribbean cruises?” suggested Alex. “I’ve seen Mom watch the commercials and get all dreamy-eyed.”

“I don’t know how much money you guys have, but I don’t think we can quite swing that,” Stevie said reluctantly.

Michael started jumping up and down. “We could get a new whatchamacallit for the swimming pool.”

“He means a new pump,” Stevie explained to her friends. “The old one broke. And that’s a good idea, Mike, but not very romantic for Mom and Dad. I think whatever it is should be about them, not us. Don’t you?” Michael nodded and Stevie patted him on the head. “What about dance lessons?”

Chad shot the suggestion down quickly. “That’s okay for Mom, but Dad …” He and his brothers made faces. “A membership at the gym?”

“They’d never have time to use it,” Alex said.

“You’re probably right,” Chad agreed. “Maybe season passes to the hockey games?”

It was Stevie’s turn to make a face. “Oh, Mom would love that!” she said sarcastically.

“A puppy?” Michael suggested excitedly.

Chad gave him a wry smile. “Sorry, sport. Nice try, though.”

“Tickets to the ballet in Washington?”

“Yuck.”

“Jet Skis?”

“Where would they use them?”

“Matching sets of golf clubs?”

“We could barely afford covers for their old ones.”

The ideas came fast and furious, but none of them seemed quite right or within their financial reach. It was something of a relief when their parents called up to say it was time for bed. They decided to sleep on it and talk about it more the next day.

That left more time for Stevie, Carole, and Lisa to talk about their upcoming meeting.

“So, what do you suppose Max is up to?” Lisa asked. “He was so mysterious!”

“Jet Skis!” Stevie said. Her mind was obviously still on the conversation with her brothers.

The girls fell into a sleepy silence in the dark of Stevie’s room. The last conscious thought that danced through Stevie’s head was a vision of her
parents standing in front of the house as she presented them with a giant pair of scissors to cut the huge red ribbon off their brand-new shiny Mercedes convertible. Her brothers, of course, were nowhere to be seen.

S
ATURDAY MORNING WAS
bright and beautiful. The Saddle Club actually managed to arrive a little early, in spite of Stevie’s being her usual disorganized self.

Since Max had announced at the previous meeting that that day was going to be a mounted gathering, the stable was a beehive of activity. At the moment almost all the riders were in a frenzy of last-minute checks on their horses’ grooming and tack. Max was a wonderful riding teacher, and a part of what made him really good was that he cared. He could joke with the young riders about all kinds of things—except horses. When it came to riding and horse care, he was all business. He frowned severely
on riders who were late or whose horses were carelessly turned out.

“I’ve got Starlight ready to go, Stevie,” called Carole. “Do you need any help?”

“I think I’m ready, too. Have you checked on Lisa?”

“She’s helping one of the younger kids.” Carole watched as Stevie finished up. “Wow, you’re actually ready early. I think you may be setting a dangerous precedent here. Personally I’d never have believed it was possible. Especially today.”

“Why?”

“Have you forgotten that frantic search for your favorite pair of jeans this morning?”

“I told you everything was under control,” Stevie said loftily.

“In other words, you were lying.”

“There’s no need to be vulgar. I have supreme confidence in my ability to arrive on time.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Carole chanted.

“I refuse to sink to your level,” Stevie said, leading Belle out of her stall. “Come on, you can walk me out.”

Carole gave a gentle tug on Starlight’s reins, falling into step beside her friend. “This is such an honor.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Stevie giggled, bumping her friend’s shoulder with her own.

They were both still ribbing each other when they emerged from the stable. Veronica diAngelo was outside, brushing a nonexistent piece of lint off her tailored jacket, completely self-absorbed, as usual. A couple of steps away, Corey Takamura sat on her pony, Samurai, struggling with one of her stirrups. “Excuse me, Veronica,” she asked shyly. “I think there’s something wrong with my stirrup. Could you please help me?”

The look Veronica shot her would have chilled an ice cube. “I can’t believe how selfish you are, Corey,” she snapped, pulling a pair of riding gloves from her pocket and putting them on. “See these gloves? They’re made of the finest kid. Do you actually expect me to drop everything, walk all the way over there, and let you put your dirty old boots all over them?”

Stevie turned to Carole and rolled her eyes. “Did you hear her? She’d have to take two, maybe three steps tops”—she put on her best Veronica imitation—“to come all the way over there.”

“Not to mention the fact that she wasn’t wearing her gloves when Corey asked for help,” fumed Carole. “She just put them on so she’d have a better reason not to do anything.”

Veronica apparently hadn’t finished with poor Corey. “If you paid better attention in class in the first place, you’d know how to fix it yourself. Maybe you’re wasting Max’s time being here.”

Even from the barn doorway the girls could see Corey crumbling with humiliation.

“If you really can’t figure out such a simple thing like how to adjust your own stirrup,” continued Veronica, “I suggest you find Red O’Malley. That’s what stable hands are for.”

That was the last straw for Stevie. She sauntered casually forward with Belle in tow. “Veronica, it looks like I owe you an apology.”

Veronica greeted her with cool, suspicious eyes. “What for?”

“I always thought you had Red tack up your horse for you because you were lazy. But if I just heard you right, it’s because you don’t know how to do it yourself,” Stevie said. “You did tell Corey, ‘If you can’t figure out how to do a simple thing, call for the stable hand,’ didn’t you?”

Veronica raised her chin haughtily. “I use Red for the tasks for which he is employed.”

“I don’t think
doormat
is written in his job description,” Stevie replied wryly.

Veronica glared at her and stalked away, brushing past Lisa, who had just arrived leading Prancer.

“Uh-oh! What was that about?” Lisa wanted to know.

Stevie just grinned and went to help Corey with her stirrup.

“Veronica was being her usual nasty self,” Carole explained. “Stevie took her down a peg or two.”

“Oh dear,” Lisa said, swinging easily into the saddle. She felt it was never a good idea to embarrass Veronica diAngelo, whose family was the richest in town and, in fact, held the mortgage on Pine Hollow. Veronica and Stevie had been butting heads for a long time now and so far Stevie had come out on top, but with Veronica you could never be sure how or when she might choose to get her revenge. “I hope that doesn’t come back to haunt us.”