Sidesaddle (12 page)

Carole opened up an easel, and Tiffani loaded a bunch of charts onto it.

“Horses have been around for a very long time,” Carole began. “They are found on all the continents—except Antarctica.”

“As soon as humans began domesticating horses, they found that some were better at certain kinds of tasks than others,” Tiffani said. “That was when they began breeding horses to improve the skills that were important to them, and before too long they had helped nature create separate breeds. Some breeds are known for their strength, some for their speed, some for their gentle personalities, and some for endurance.
These are skills developed in nature but refined by humans. In the next few minutes, we will examine just a few of the breeds that can be found all around the world today. Carole?”

“Thank you, Tiffani,” Carole said. She turned over the first chart.

Carole and Tiffani had broken down the breeds into geographical lines and then into groups. They’d done an enormous amount of work, showing the important bloodlines in each of the breeds. Tiffani spent a particularly long time explaining about the Tennessee walker, but Carole also had an opportunity to talk about Thoroughbreds—Starlight was half Thoroughbred.

Stevie and a lot of the other Horse Wise members actually knew much of what Carole and Tiffani were saying. Everybody knew that Friesians—the big black workhorses of Europe—were used to pull hearses. A lot of it was totally new, certainly to Stevie, who’d never heard of some of the Asian breeds that Carole talked about. Stevie knew that Carole had started out knowing a lot, but it was amazing to think what she must have had to study to learn all that she’d put into the report.

Nobody talked or interrupted throughout the whole presentation because it was so interesting and informative. Max sat at his desk, clearly as interested in what his students were saying as everybody else was.

When they were done, the whole room exploded in
applause. Stevie clapped, and so did Lisa, but Phil was doing more than that. He was practically whooping, obviously very glad that he’d come to Horse Wise instead of Cross County that morning. Stevie looked at him out of the corner of her eye, clapping away. Then she looked at Carole and Tiffani, both pleased with the response their audience was giving them and bowing occasionally.

Stevie leaned over to Phil and whispered, “I think Carole did most of the work on this. She knows almost all this stuff off the top of her head, you know?”

Phil looked at Stevie quizzically, but he didn’t say anything. He just kept on clapping.

Max then announced the end of Horse Wise, but he told everybody to stay where they were.

“I know a lot of you have been working on your Learn Something New reports. If any of them begin to measure up to the great report we’ve just had from Carole and Tiffani, then we’re all going to be learning a lot of new things today. I thought it would be best if we got our sandwiches and began right here in my office so that those of you who want to make presentations can. Then we’ll go tack up and see what the rest of you have learned.”

Everybody had something to contribute. Lisa was one of the first, giving her report on military riding and its influence on modern riding styles. April had decided to
learn about different kinds of tack. She had made charts of English and Western tack and also worldwide variations—like the differences between American and Argentinean cowboy tack, as well as Arabian saddles and bridles.

Adam Levine had prepared a report on horse communication, complete with recordings of different neighing and whinnying sounds, as well as photographs showing variations of body language.

Meg Durham presented a report on braiding styles. Joe gave his report on the Bureau of Land Management. Betsy Cavanaugh read a whole paper on Olympic competitors. Olivia presented a book report on
Black Beauty.

When the last presenter was done, the meeting finally broke up and moved to the schooling ring for the riding demonstrations.

There were all sorts of demonstrations. One rider showed how she’d learned to polish her pony’s hooves. Another demonstrated how she made patterns on her pony’s flank when she groomed him. It was a horse show trick, and it was a neat one. May Grover showed that she’d trained her pony, Macaroni, to respond to visual signals—to come when called, sometimes; to change gaits in the field; and to come over for a treat. That last signal was one he never failed to respond to. Veronica diAngelo, having abandoned her report on
polo because it required too much work, showed how she’d learned to make her horse stand in absolutely proper form for conformation classes at horse shows.

“Not much of a trick there,” Stevie whispered to Phil. He nodded. They both knew that Veronica’s horse had been trained to do that long before she ever bought him. Nevertheless, the class applauded politely.

Two students had worked on driving. Corey had her pony, Samurai, hitched to the pony cart. He trotted around the ring a couple of times, and Corey showed how he could change gaits and directions. She’d done a good job and deserved the applause she got.

Josh had studied driving, too, but he was using the small carriage. He did just fine, but his pony was in a fussy mood. A fussy pony and a carriage made a bad combination, and Max told Josh to drive him out of the ring, promising to let him show what he’d learned on a day when his pony was in a better mood. People clapped anyway.

Then, when Tiffani brought out Diamond with his sidesaddle on, the six students she’d been working with all had their turns going around the ring sidesaddle. None of them was very good, but they all stayed on, and Diamond responded to their aids just right.

There was more applause.

“Well done, class,” Max said. “So well done, in fact, that I think I’ll have you do this more often!”

The range of things that people had decided to learn
was amazing, Max said. “I am truly impressed with your determination and your success. Every single one—No, there’s someone missing.” He turned his head until his gaze rested on Stevie.

“Ms. Lake?”

“Yes?”

“Did you learn something new for today?”

This was not a moment Stevie had been looking forward to. She’d learned something new, all right, but she wasn’t eager to share it with the class.

“It’s kind of rough,” she said.

“Very few things worth learning can be learned quickly,” Max said. “Nobody expects expertise. Just show us what you’ve done so far.”

There was no getting out of it. She was going to have to do it, just the way everybody else had. And, after all, it was pretty special, and she had done it all by herself, even if she hadn’t done it very well.

“I’ll be back,” she said. She was hoping it would take her hours to tack up Belle and that everybody would have given up on her by then, but when she returned with the sidesaddle on Belle, they were all waiting, exactly as she had left them.

“Why Stevie, you could have used Diamond!” Tiffani said.

“I wanted to use Belle,” Stevie said. “She’s my horse.”

She led Belle to the mounting block and began what
she later considered the most humiliating ten minutes of her life. She and Belle were exactly as good in front of the whole class as they had been by themselves. The only thing that went right was that she didn’t fall out of the saddle while she was mounting. After that, there was no good news.

Belle took her usual rightward step when Stevie tried to get her to walk. She finally began moving at a walk and refused to trot. She moved forward, but when Stevie signaled for a left turn, she turned right. She backed up when Stevie tried to stop her, and she trotted when Stevie tried to back her up. Every single attempt at giving Belle an aid backfired, side-fired or front-fired. It was a disaster. Finally, trying to get Belle back to where she could honorably dismount and signal the end of her pitiful demonstration, Stevie kicked her too vigorously. Belle did the only natural thing she could in response. She bucked. Stevie flew out of the saddle, up and over Belle’s head, and landed rear-first in the dirt. A perfect end to a perfect demonstration—as long as the title of the demonstration was “Terrible Riding.”

Stevie didn’t move for a minute, hoping that while she was there on the ground a big hole would open up in the earth and swallow her. That was the only way she could think of that she might not have to face any of her friends or classmates or boyfriend or instructor
ever again, which was exactly when she’d be ready to see them.

No hole opened up. Instead she found herself surrounded. Usually Max was the first person to reach a rider who’d been thrown. This time, however, he’d been outpaced by his newest student: Tiffani Thomas.

When Stevie opened her eyes, her gaze was met by Tiffani’s pale blue eyes.

“Oh, Stevie!” Tiffani said. “You were wonderful!”

“Huh?”

“Now, don’t move,” Tiffani said, though Stevie already knew she was to stay still for a while anyway. “Does anything hurt?”

“Nope.”

“Can you wiggle your toes?”

Obediently Stevie wiggled her toes and then nodded.

“Stay still and listen to me,” Tiffani said. “I know you’re fine there, but while you rest a second, I want you to know that you should be really proud of yourself.”

“For making an idiot of myself?” Stevie asked.

“No, silly,” said Tiffani. “For trying so hard. Everybody else who wanted to learn sidesaddle riding came to me for help. You didn’t. You were determined to do it yourself.”

“And I really did it, didn’t I?” Stevie asked sarcastically.

“You were doing everything right!” Tiffani said.

“Was not!” Stevie protested.

“Well, maybe not exactly right, but you’d figured out what you needed to do and you and Belle were working at it. That sweet ole mare would do just about anything for you, wouldn’t she?”

“Like buck me off?” Stevie retorted. She wanted to stand up and get away from this irritating girl. The trouble was that she’d been winded and shaken by the fall. She was all right—nothing was broken, she didn’t have a concussion or anything—but she was a prisoner of her own injury for a few minutes and there was no escaping Tiffani.

“You don’t understand, do you, Stevie? What you did was brave! Sidesaddle riding is different, and it’s a difficult skill for a lot of people. Trying to learn it on your own was a fine thing to do. You learned a lot, too! Oh, sure, what you did here this afternoon wasn’t good riding, but you are a good rider and one day you’ll be a fine sidesaddle rider. It’s a skill, like any other. It takes practice and perhaps some good instruction now and again. I mean, I just happen to be good at it, the same way Max tells me you’re good at dressage. I’m a failure at dressage, aside or astride. Tell you what, Stevie, I’ll make you a deal. If you’ll teach me what you know about dressage, I’ll teach you everything I know about sidesaddle.”

Stevie blinked and then relaxed back onto the dirt. “You want
me
to teach
you
?”

“Would you?”

Now,
there
was a question. Stevie was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that all her friends had apparently come to almost the moment they’d met Tiffani Thomas. There was a lot more to this girl than pink jodhpurs. She really knew a lot about horses and really wanted to learn a lot more. She wasn’t making it up. Oh, sure, she made statements into questions, but that was mostly a matter of where she came from. She wore funny clothes, but that was who she was, just as Stevie was torn jeans and T-shirts.

“On one condition,” Stevie finally answered.

“Name it,” said Tiffani.

“That you don’t teach me any more about sidesaddle riding.”

“Did you hate it?” Tiffani asked.

“Every minute,” Stevie told her.

“Some people just do, you know.”

“Like me,” said Stevie.

She sat up then, and Tiffani gave her a hand to stand up. The class applauded. Carole walked over, leading a bashful Belle, and handed Stevie the reins.

Stevie thanked her and then turned back to Tiffani. “You could do one thing for me,” she said.

“Sure.”

“Hold the reins while I remount. Max’ll kill me if I don’t get back in the saddle.”

It took only a minute. Stevie mounted, let Tiffani lead Belle in a small circle, and then dismounted. Both she and her horse were ready to return to Belle’s stall to remove the hated sidesaddle for a final time.

S
TEVIE DROPPED THE SIDESADDLE
off in the tack room, promising it she would polish it another time. Right then, all she wanted and needed was some time to herself.

It wasn’t easy finding a private corner at Pine Hollow. The stable was filled with pumped-up Pony Clubbers. Max’s Learn Something New project had been a grand success, and everybody was chattering about what they’d learned or what they wished they’d learned or what someone else—Stevie, mostly—hadn’t learned. The barn was no place for quiet contemplation.

Stevie fled to the grain shed.

She found a bale of hay in a corner and sat on it. Thinking always seemed easier on a bale of hay. The first thinking she did was to take a quick physical inventory.
That fall had been a hard one, and although she was convinced nothing was badly hurt, she knew she was shaken.