Stable Hearts (5 page)

Mr. Stowe turned and smiled. “Why, hello, Stevie, Carole, Lisa,” he said. “How nice to see you again. Did you have a nice time at Cross Country? Elizabeth told me you were playing games with them.”

“It’s Cross
County
,” Stevie corrected. “And we were playing games
against
them, not
with
them.”

“And we didn’t have a very nice time,” Lisa added, thinking that Stevie’s fierce tone required some explanation. She told them about Dime’s and Penny’s awful behavior.

“How strange,” Mrs. Reg commented. To Mr.
Stowe she added, “Normally they’re both very sweet and dependable.”

“So now we’re cleaning the tack we used,” Stevie said. “Come on, Mr. Stowe. You can help us.”

Mr. Stowe smiled gently. “I wouldn’t be much help, I’m afraid. As far as I remember, my uncle didn’t clean his tack at all—at least not while I was around. I don’t know the first thing about it.”

“We’ll show you,” Carole said. “It’s not hard, but it is important. Mrs. Reg’s always telling us so, aren’t you, Mrs. Reg? You’re supposed to clean your tack after each ride.”

“Didn’t you clean Delilah’s bridle yesterday?” Lisa asked.

Mr. Stowe looked embarrassed. “Well, no—”

“I guess it’s not that important,” Lisa said hurriedly. She turned to Mrs. Reg. “I mean, I know it is, Mrs. Reg, but I don’t think you should get upset with Mr. Stowe. He just didn’t know.”

“That’s okay, Lisa, I’m not upset,” Mrs. Reg said gently.

“I’m very sorry,” Mr. Stowe said in confusion. “I didn’t realize. If I was supposed to clean tack, then I’d better start cleaning. Thank you, Carole.
I’ll accept your kind offer.” He tipped his hat to Mrs. Reg, took one of the two bridles Carole was carrying, and accompanied The Saddle Club to the tack room.

They had to teach Mr. Stowe everything. It turned out he didn’t even know how to take apart a bridle! “I just never messed with this stuff before,” he said apologetically. “But it’s important to Elizabeth, eh?”

“Very important,” Carole said firmly. She showed him how to open the tab buckles that fastened the reins to the bit. “In the first place, salt from a horse’s sweat can damage the leather, and tack is expensive, so you want it to last. In the second place, it’s healthier for the horses if everything is kept clean and supple. And in the third place, it just looks nicer. Mrs. Reg likes everything neat and clean.”

“Runs a tidy ship, does she?” he asked. “I thought so. Everything around here seems brushed and raked and straightened. Still, I wouldn’t call her too neat—not
too
fastidious—would you?” He looked around at all of them.

Lisa thought about the question as she removed the stirrups from Dime’s saddle and dunked them
into a pail of water. “She’s not afraid of getting dirty, if that’s what you mean,” she answered. “But Mrs. Reg really likes everything done right. That’s her job, you know—she manages the stable for Max.” Lisa put saddle soap on a sponge and began cleaning Dime’s saddle. Stevie did the same with Nickel’s. Carole dismantled Quarter’s bridle.

“Mr. Stowe!” Carole shrieked. “Don’t do that!”

Mr. Stowe froze. Delilah’s bit hung from his hand, just above Stevie’s bucket of soapy water. Stevie redirected him to Lisa’s bucket of clean water. “Don’t ever put soap on a horse’s bit,” Carole explained. “It’ll taste terrible!”

“Sorry,” Mr. Stowe said. He took a sponge and began wiping off Delilah’s reins. “So, what else can you tell me about Elizabeth?”

All three girls looked blank. “Oh!” said Lisa. “You mean Mrs. Reg!” Mr. Stowe nodded. “Well, she taught me how to do a lot of things around the stable: clean stalls and scrub water buckets, clean tack, mix horse feeds—”

“She keeps us all busy,” Carole explained. “Everyone works at Pine Hollow.”

“You told me,” said Mr. Stowe. “But what is she like as a person?”

The Saddle Club looked blank again. “She tells
stories,” Lisa said after a pause. “We usually think they don’t have a point, but they usually do.”

“She’s a very
good
stable manager,” Carole offered.

“She’s a good rider, too,” Stevie said. “And she arranges lots of the fun stuff we do here, too. Like, for instance, right now she’s supposed to be planning the decorations for the Valentine’s Day dance.”

“I saw the sign on the bulletin board for the dance,” Mr. Stowe said. “It’s next Saturday, isn’t it? Are you all going?”

“Of course we’re going,” Stevie said. “It’s who might not be going that’s upsetting me.” She pressed her lips together and bent over Nickel’s saddle, scrubbing furiously.

Lisa wondered what Mr. Stowe would think of Stevie’s somewhat cryptic comment. Of course Mr. Stowe wouldn’t know about Phil.

“Isn’t Mrs. Reg going?” asked Mr. Stowe.

“She has to go,” Carole said. “She manages the stable.”

Mr. Stowe grinned. “I know. You told me.”

“She always goes to stuff,” Lisa said. “But she usually doesn’t dance or anything like that. I don’t think she likes parties, but she’s always a
good sport about them. But anybody can come to the Valentine’s Day dance. Max never minds who we invite.”

“I see,” said Mr. Stowe. “Do you think Mrs. Reg will invite anyone?”

Lisa frowned. “Who would she invite? All her friends are right here.”

“Mr. Stowe,” Carole said with a sigh, “you’ve got way too much lather on your sponge. Let me show you.”

W
HEN THEY WERE
finished, Mr. Stowe stopped outside Delilah’s stall and fed her a carrot. “I forgot to bring one yesterday,” he explained to the girls as he gave Delilah a pat. “She’s a good horse, though, isn’t she? I always did prefer blondes.” He chuckled.

“Mr. Stowe,” Carole said, “Delilah isn’t blond. She’s palomino.”

He smiled. “That’s another thing I never did learn—all those fancy names for what colors horses are. To me, it’s easy. You’ve got your brown horses, black ones, redheads, blonds, and white ones.”

The three girls stared at him. “It’s not as easy as
that,” Lisa said, remembering how she’d struggled to learn all the correct terms.

“Horses aren’t white at all,” Stevie said. “You’re supposed to call them
gray.
”

“Now, see, that doesn’t make sense,” Mr. Stowe argued. “They don’t look gray. They look white.”

“It does make sense, and there are white horses,” Carole cut in. “I’ll show you.” She led the way down the aisle to Sachia, a gray mare being boarded there. “Most white-haired horses are gray, or even black, when they’re born, and they get lighter with age,” she said. She carefully parted a section of Sachia’s hair so that the mare’s skin showed. “And see? She’s got black skin. Nearly all horses have black skin. But every once in a while a horse is born with white hair at birth, and totally pink skin, and that’s a white horse. They’re very rare.”

“I didn’t know that,” Stevie said, becoming interested. “Belle’s got pink skin under her white markings.”

“Yes,” said Carole. “That’s very common, but I bet she’s got black skin everywhere else. Now, Mr. Stowe, I’ll teach you the difference between a brown horse and a liver chestnut.”

Mr. Stowe looked uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you girls further,” he said. “Why, Elizabeth! Is there something I can help you with?”

Mrs. Reg had come out of the office and was looking at her watch anxiously. “My car is in the shop, and Max took off with the truck,” she said. “And Deborah must have the other car. I need to get some liniment from the tack shop before it closes. I’m afraid I won’t make it.” She sounded flustered.

“I’ll take you,” Mr. Stowe said instantly. He waved his thanks to the girls and left with Mrs. Reg.

“Well, honestly,” said Carole. “I can’t tell if he wants to learn about horses or not. Sometimes he just doesn’t seem interested.”

T
HEY GOT THEIR
horses ready and headed for the trails. Once she was astride Prancer, Lisa felt the tensions of the morning melt away. “This is so much better,” she said.

“I know,” Carole said. “I don’t think Starlight will run away with me.”

Lisa snorted. “I bet you didn’t think Penny was
going to run away with you, either,” she said. Carole burst out laughing.

“I just can’t believe that Phil!” Stevie cut in angrily. “Who does he think he is, not wanting to come to my party? I can’t believe he’d miss a night of perfect romance because of some stupid committee. He’s a snake! I never realized it before, but he truly is a snake.”

“He’s got a right to want to go to his own dance,” Carole said. She could see Phil’s side of the argument, and it seemed as valid as Stevie’s. “You can’t really blame him for not coming to Pine Hollow.”

“I can too,” Stevie retorted. “I’m going to help him make up his mind. He comes to Pine Hollow—or else.”

O
N
S
UNDAY AFTERNOON
Lisa was riding her bicycle into Pine Hollow’s driveway just as Carole was walking up. Carole often took the bus from her house to a stop near the stable and walked the rest of the way.

“Hi, Lisa,” she called as Lisa parked her bike. “How’s your hip?”

“Fine,” Lisa said, smiling. “My ego is better, too. How’s yours?”

Carole shook her head and laughed. “Still a little sore. That Penny!”

“Today it’ll just be Starlight, Belle, and Prancer,” Lisa said happily. “I can’t wait to hit
those trails.” They’d planned to meet Stevie and ride together.

As they headed into the stable, they could hear that Stevie was already there. “But Mrs. Reg,” came Stevie’s voice from inside the office, “a live band would be so much better than just playing CDs on Max’s stereo system. It would make the dance really special. Couldn’t we at least get a band?”

Carole and Lisa walked into the office. Mrs. Reg and Stevie both smiled at them. “No,” Mrs. Reg said firmly to Stevie. “We can’t get a live band, we can’t rent a strobe light, and for heaven’s sake, we certainly can’t get a laser light show. This is a barn dance, Stevie. It’s not Madison Square Garden. Our budget will cover balloons and streamers, and that’s about it.”

“But everyone has balloons and streamers,” Stevie wailed. “I want our dance to be spectacular.”

Carole looked at Lisa and rolled her eyes. It was clear that Stevie wanted a spectacular show because she wanted to lure Phil away from his school dance. Carole didn’t think this would work at all. In fact, though she more or less supported
Stevie because she knew how much the Pine Hollow dance meant to her, she also thought Phil had a good reason for not wanting to come. She knew they were both stubborn, and she hoped they wouldn’t get into an awful fight over this.

“If you want spectacular, Stevie, you’ll have to make it spectacular by the shining light of your personality,” Mrs. Reg said firmly, with an amused glint in her eye.

“Good morning!” Mr. Stowe said cheerfully, coming into the room without knocking. He checked his watch. “Or I should say, good afternoon! I’m not interrupting anything important, am I?”

“No, I think Stevie was just finishing,” Mrs. Reg said.

“I hope you’re not expecting to ride today,” Stevie told him. “Most of the horses get Sunday off.” She couldn’t believe he was here again! Would the old man never go away? He didn’t seem horse-crazy enough to be hanging around Pine Hollow the way he was doing.
He must lead a very boring life
, decided Stevie.

“Stevie, you know that’s not true,” Mrs. Reg chided. To Mr. Stowe she added, “We do, of
course, give every horse one day off a week, but never all at the same time.” She smiled. “I know of two particular horses who could stand some exercise. Perhaps you would care to go on a trail ride with me?”

“But you’ve hardly gotten started planning the dance decorations!” Stevie protested. “They’re very important!”

Mrs. Reg looked a trifle harassed. “I’ll have plenty of time to do them, Stevie. They won’t take that long.”

“They should,” Stevie muttered sulkily.

“Say,” Mr. Stowe said cheerfully, “aren’t you girls riding today? You’d better be getting those horses ready—don’t want to miss any of this fine sunshine!” He took his cowboy hat off and laid it on Mrs. Reg’s desk. Carole took this as a sign that he meant to stick around. She thought about how this must annoy Mrs. Reg.

“We’re not riding, we’re giving our horses the day off,” Carole said.

Stevie looked apoplectic. “We
are
?” The Saddle Club did give their horses at least one day off a week, but usually that was Monday, the day they often volunteered at a therapeutic riding center,
or else another weekday when they had appointments or schoolwork or something. It was never a weekend, when they were free to ride.

“Yes,” said Carole firmly. “We came here to work. To clean stalls.”

Lisa could see why Carole had said that—she was trying to distract Mr. Stowe—but she wondered what Mrs. Reg would think about her wearing clean breeches and knee boots to clean stalls in.

Mrs. Reg didn’t seem to notice Lisa’s clothes. Her face had lit up at Carole’s declaration. “Wonderful!” she said. “We won’t keep you. Red can tell you which stalls to clean.”

Mr. Stowe looked surprised at the sudden change in Mrs. Reg’s expression. “Everyone works at Pine Hollow, don’t they?” he said. “Well, I’m eager to do my fair share. I can ride another day. I’ll clean some stalls, too!”