Stagecoach (7 page)

“D
ISGUSTING
,” S
TEVIE COMMENTED
. She was examining Topside’s bit before putting it in his mouth. As she suspected, it was coated with scum.

“What?” Carole asked. She had Starlight all tacked up for their special Saturday Horse Wise practice and was waiting for Stevie to join her. Both of them were crossing their fingers that Lisa would show up in the next five minutes.

“Topside’s bit is greener than a pasture in June,” Stevie said succinctly.

“Add it to your list,” Carole said. Since their talk with Mrs. Reg, the two girls had been making mental checklists of what things needed cleaning, organizing, pitching, and/or replacing. Unfortunately, there weren’t many
things that
didn’t
need cleaning, organizing, pitching, and/or replacing.

“My list’s so long I forget what’s on it,” Stevie wailed.

Carole nodded sympathetically. “I know—mine too.” She paused, pressing her lips into a thin, determined line. “After Horse Wise today we are going to have that stable-management meeting with everyone going to the rally, or else. We just can’t keep track of everything—it’s too much.”

As they led Starlight and Topside out to the mounting block, Lisa came running into the stable. “Phew! Made it! I’ll be out in ten minutes!” she exclaimed.

“Make that five—Prancer’s tacked up and waiting in her stall!” Carole called after her.

Lisa spun around, incredulous. “You—?” She didn’t have to elaborate any further.

“Yup, we did,” Stevie said.

“How can I ever thank—” Lisa began.

Carole interrupted with more news. “Stevie’s also been riding Prancer, and I’ve been coaching the two of them.”

Lisa stood speechless for a moment. Then she threw down her bag and embraced both of them in a bear hug. “You’re the best! You’re the absolute best!”

She was totally overwhelmed that her friends had taken the time and trouble not only to groom and tack up her horse but also to school her. Lisa had been wondering
all week whether Prancer would be skittish after having two days off. Instead, the mare had been having training sessions with two experienced riders. She had also been wondering about something else all week: whether she should quit the play altogether. The more she tried to fine-tune her schedule, the more desperate for time she felt. And she was
not
going to sacrifice Prancer’s chances. But now, thanks to Carole and Stevie, it looked as if she wouldn’t have to, even if she stayed in the play.

“We know we’re the best,” Stevie said. “We hear that all the time—from Max, Mrs. Reg, Olympic coaches.… Now get going and get out here.”

“
Five
minutes!” Lisa promised.

Outdoors in the dressage ring Max had already begun watching riders go through their tests. Mrs. Reg was standing outside the ring. She had copies of all of the tests in her hands and would prompt anyone who forgot hers. Today Max wanted to see the performances in their entirety, to see if breaking them up and working on the hard parts had helped. This would also enable him to plan the remaining lessons before the rally. Several minutes earlier Carole had overheard him joke to Mrs. Reg: “If everyone’s perfect, we’ll just spend next week trail riding.”

“You remember that, boy,” she told Starlight as she walked him on a loose rein to relax them both. She had
volunteered to follow Veronica on Garnet, who, she had to admit, were doing quite nicely. Lisa would go next and then Stevie. Carole stole a glance at Topside. He looked wonderful, and Stevie was riding more attentively, thanks to being woken up by Prancer. If only Lisa would do as well.

Carole warmed up efficiently and was ready when Veronica saluted Max a second time. Starlight was getting used to the size of the small ring. He remained quiet but alert as they circled twice around, preparing to enter. In the first movement of the test, however, Carole tensed up and forgot to keep her leg on. The halt was late and uneven. Sternly she reminded herself that Max had told them that every movement counted. If one was horrible, the next one could still be a seven or an eight. “I will not let one bad halt ruin the whole test,” she told herself. Her determination paid off. The rest of the ride went smoothly. The only other major mistake was her forgetting the end of the test and having to be prompted by Mrs. Reg.

As she exited, Max barked out his comments: “Mostly accurate. Good transitions. Watch the first halt. Next please.” He didn’t bother to correct her for the obvious mistake of memory failure. Carole sighed in relief. She had talked herself out of a tough spot, and it had worked.

Lisa gave Carole the thumbs-up sign on Carole’s way
out. Lisa had only had a few minutes to warm up, and she felt rushed and under pressure. As quickly as possible after her ride, she’d have to get back to WCCT.

After another turn around the ring, Lisa urged Prancer forward, and they entered at a smart trot. Then they halted promptly and squarely. Carole stole a glance back in Max’s direction and saw the trace of a smile on his lips. By her entrance alone it was easy to see what a wonderful dressage horse Prancer might be someday. She had an eye-catching trot and carried herself beautifully.

Unfortunately, her entrance alone had to serve as proof of her potential. Unlike Carole’s first halt, Lisa’s turned out to be the best moment in her test. As soon as she turned the corner at C, Lisa seemed to lose all confidence. The others watched as she sat frozen in the saddle, a stricken look on her face. Prancer was behaving fine, but Lisa seemed nervous all the same. She gave every aid about three strides too late. When she did ask for a new gait, she overdid it, sending Prancer leaping forward into a canter instead of quietly picking up a trot. Midway through the ride Lisa halted at the side of the ring. “May I start over, Max?” she asked, her voice quavering.

Max agreed readily.

Lisa walked quietly for a few minutes, organizing her thoughts. She felt stiff all over. Her neck ached from stress, and her legs felt cramped from the long choreography
rehearsal they’d had at WCCT the day before. “I won’t let you down,” she whispered fiercely to Prancer, stroking her neck. Silently she reminded herself that she couldn’t disappoint Stevie and Carole, who had worked so hard to help her, or Max, who had been so patient. She took a deep breath and started over.

She hadn’t thought things could go any worse, but she was wrong. Before, Prancer had sensed Lisa’s nervousness. Now she decided to take advantage of it. She trotted right through the halting point, ignoring Lisa’s snatches at the reins. When she did halt, she fussed with the bit. At the far corner she shied at her own shadow and refused to settle down. This time Max was the first to speak. “Why don’t you warm up a bit more, Lisa?” he suggested. “You can ride your test last.”

Suddenly more determined than nervous, Lisa brought the mare to a halt by sheer willpower. Mrs. Spitz would have a fit if Lisa showed up to rehearsal that late. “I can’t ride last, Max. I just can’t today. I’m sure it will go better now. Can’t I try?” she pleaded.

Max came over to Prancer’s side. In a quiet voice, so that no one could overhear, he asked, “What do you think is going wrong today, Lisa?”

Lisa stuck out her lower lip stubbornly. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps if you spent more time riding, the test would go better,” he said gently.

“I’m doing everything I can!” Lisa wailed. “I have a schedule to keep, but it’s getting harder and harder to stick to it. The only reason I could come to Pony Club today is that the director is working with the chorus for an hour and then with the adult leads for a half hour. She gave me permission to come to Horse Wise until noon, and it’s not much time, but it’s all I’ve got! It’s absolutely all I’ve got!”

There was a pause as Lisa’s words hung in the air. Then Veronica diAngelo’s sharp voice demanded, “I guess we should all feel blessed by your presence, huh?
Grateful
that you could make it at all, right?”

Lisa bit her lip for an instant, her face distraught. All at once she burst into hysterical tears. Turning Prancer toward the barn, she urged her into a trot and fled the scene.

“Polly, why don’t you ride next?” Max suggested quietly. He nodded to Carole and Stevie that they could go after Lisa.

Lisa pulled up beside the stable doors and jumped off. She buried her face in Prancer’s neck, sobbing. Seeing her standing there, Red O’Malley put down the bale of hay he was carrying and went to find out what was wrong.

“I’ll put Prancer away for you. You just try to calm yourself,” he told Lisa, taking the mare’s reins.

Lisa was too upset to protest. All day—all week—she
had been on the brink of bursting into tears. Veronica’s comment had been the last straw. She had been trying her hardest to please everyone, and instead it seemed as if all she got was criticism from every side. What could she do now? She was so confused, she couldn’t think straight anymore. She had to get away—from Pine Hollow, WCCT, everything. Choking back tears, Lisa ran blindly toward the woods behind the barn as fast as she could.

“A
NY SIGN OF
her?” Carole called hopefully. She was holding Starlight and Topside while Stevie took a look around for Lisa.

“Not a trace,” Stevie answered, emerging from the tack room. “And Red said he had volunteered to put Prancer away for her.”

“Then I guess we’d better get back to the lesson,” Carole said after a pause.

Stevie nodded glumly. Neither she nor Carole seemed to want to guess where Lisa had vanished to in such a hurry. Admitting that she had left Pine Hollow to go to rehearsal would be the same as admitting that she was going to choose acting. For good. And neither of them was ready to admit that.

“O
NE MORE CANTER
, one more trot, and then we’re through, boy,” Stevie murmured.

After Lisa’s departure she had remounted Topside and begun her dressage test. Topside was behaving beautifully, as usual. Stevie didn’t like to be cocky—or at least not too cocky—but she couldn’t help thinking that they were having the best ride of anyone in the class. The gelding’s black tail swung rhythmically in the sun as they trotted down the long side. He looked confident, and so did Stevie.

“One-two, one-two,” she hummed to herself. “Steady as a rock, that’s right, boy, one-two, one-two.” On the exact moment that they crossed the letter
A
, Topside cantered. His canter was so smooth that all Stevie had
to do was sit up straight and think about her own position. She imagined that she was a grand prix rider at the Olympics. When they came down the center line, Stevie was actually a little sorry that her ride was over. She had to turn back into a D-3 Pony Clubber as soon as she saluted.

“As good as I would expect on a horse like Topside,” Max commented.

Stevie took his judgment as a compliment.

“Ride like that in a week, and you’re sure to get a low score,” Betsy said.

“That was great, Stevie,” Polly added.

Stevie thanked them both. She was about ready to launch into a long discourse on the merits of riding a great horse like Topside when Carole cut her short. “Speaking of getting a low score, everyone meet in the locker room after getting untacked to talk stable management. If we don’t get organized soon, we could be the best riders in the region and still finish last.”

“That may be the case, but I won’t be able to make it, unfortunately,” Veronica announced. “You can be assured that my tack and turnout and personal grooming will be as immaculate as always. Mother’s sending a man over to do Garnet on Friday, and I’ve just bought a new stock tie, ratcatcher, and coat.”

“Boy, that’s really the Pony Club spirit,” Carole grumbled.

“No new breeches?” Stevie asked sarcastically.

Veronica gave her a withering glance. “I’ve only worn my old ones once—I think they’ll do.”

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Carole asked.

“Oh, nowhere in particular,” Veronica replied airily. “But if certain people don’t have to stay for the riding part, why should I have to stay for the stable-management meeting?” With that she wheeled Garnet and headed for the barn.

“Unbelievable,” Carole muttered, staring after her angrily.

“No—just Veronicable,” Stevie replied.

C
AROLE PUT
S
TARLIGHT
away quickly. There was no time today to linger over combing out his tail and painting on hoof polish: She had a rally team to organize. She decided to get a jump start on the meeting by walking around and catching people while they were untacking to ask them for their completed feeding schedules and equipment checklists.

It didn’t take long. First Betsy, then Polly, and finally, Stevie, told her that they hadn’t
quite
finished doing the charts. Resignedly Carole told them just to hurry and meet in the locker room as soon as possible. While she waited for the three girls, she took a pencil stub from her pocket and scribbled an equipment list. It didn’t look
too bad. Everything was pretty straightforward and could probably be scrounged from Pine Hollow.

As soon as they had all gathered, Carole began to read from the list. She told them to copy everything down. “Okay. First, the obvious: bridle, saddle, saddle pad, hat, boots, coat, shirt—”

“Excuse me, but why isn’t the stable manager taking care of all this?” Polly asked.

“The stable manager isn’t taking care of all this because there is no stable manager yet. If you’ll remember, we’re supposed to be getting a younger member of Horse Wise to help out,” Carole replied a little impatiently. “Unfortunately, May Grover’s birthday falls on the same weekend as dressage rally, and every young equestrienne in the state of Virginia is invited to a slumber party Friday night. So we’re still looking. Any suggestions?”

“Um, well—no,” Polly replied.

“Fine. Then let’s go on. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Saddle, saddle pad, hat, boots—”

“Excuse me, but are we going to have gray-and-green Horse Wise saddle pads under our regular ones like last time?” Betsy asked.

Carole frowned. She wasn’t sure. Usually they wore matching pads in Horse Wise’s colors at competitions, but no one had mentioned it. “I’ll have to ask Mrs. Reg,” she said, writing a note to herself.

“Don’t forget to ask her about the Horse Wise banner, while you’re at it,” Betsy reminded her.

“Right,” Carole said. “Okay, coat, shirt—”

“Do we wear our black coats and stock ties since it’s a dressage rally?” Polly asked.

Carole bit her lip. She wasn’t positive about that one, either. Dressing herself for a show had never been Carole’s strong point.

“If we do, I’m in trouble because I don’t have a black coat,” Betsy said.

Carole smiled. She had an answer. “You can use the Pine Hollow spare,” she said. Over the years Mrs. Reg had kept a collection of all the garments riders had abandoned or forgotten so that they could be used in a pinch.

“But
I
was counting on using the spare—I used it for combined training rally last year,” Polly wailed.

Carole glared at her. “All right. I will ask Mrs. Reg,” she said through gritted teeth. “Now, may I continue? We will also need grooming kits assembled according to United States Pony Club standards—and that means all the brushes have to be spotless—as well as the team first-aid kit that we always take. Also—”

“Uh, Carole?” Stevie asked timidly.

“Yes?”

“I hate to say it, but someone’s going to have to buy and stock a whole new first-aid kit.”

“And why is that, Stevie?” Carole inquired.

“Because the old one got lost on the overnight trail ride.”

“I see,” Carole said calmly. She smiled calmly. She calmly held up the piece of paper with the list on it. Then she calmly tore it into a hundred tiny pieces and calmly threw them up into the air.

“Uh, Carole?” Stevie asked.

“Yes, Stevie.”

“Should we take this as a sign that you’re through with organizing the stable management?”

“In a word, Stevie, yes,
I QUIT
!” Carole cried.

Stevie knew a crisis when she saw one. She was so used to getting herself into them that she could often help other people get out of them. The Horse Wise Pony Club was facing a dressage-rally crisis that had to be solved immediately.

“All right,” Stevie said, jumping to her feet. “Here’s my solution. Everyone takes care of her own stuff—equipment, horse, clothes—everything. The stable manager—when we find one—will be there on the day of the show to help out, but we have to get ourselves ready. And we can’t bother Mrs. Reg, either. She’s already volunteered to drive the van. Okay? Does everyone agree?”

“That still doesn’t solve the problem of who’s going to organize the team equipment,” Betsy pointed out.

“How about you?” Stevie asked. She had decided that it was too late in the game to beat around the bush.

“Me? If anyone should, it should be you.
You’ve
got the wonder horse.
You
don’t even have to practice,” Betsy said.

Stevie opened her mouth to object, but Polly cut her off. “What about Veronica? She doesn’t have to practice, groom her own horse, or anything. Make her do it.”

“If she does it, it obviously won’t get done,” Carole said.

“You know, this rally is turning into one huge hassle,” Betsy commented.

“Nobody said you had to go!” Stevie retorted.

“Fine! Maybe I won’t—if it would make you so happy!” Betsy cried.

The door to the locker room swung open. All four girls froze. Mrs. Reg’s kindly face peeked in. “Oh, good. I was sure you were here somewhere, preparing for next weekend. Keep up the good work, girls. Max and I expect great things from you. I’ll be off now. I don’t want to interrupt anymore.”

Carole, Stevie, Betsy, and Polly looked at one another self-consciously after the door closed again.

“Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow?” Polly suggested.

“Sounds good,” Stevie said.

“Yeah, see you guys tomorrow,” Carole added. She
started to gather up her stuff quickly. Suddenly they were all in a hurry to leave.

“TD’s?” Stevie whispered.

“Meet you outside in two minutes,” Carole whispered back.

Sitting in the traditional Saddle Club booth at TD’s still seemed wrong. After a moment’s hesitation Carole and Stevie once again chose a table for two.

“Still got only two thirds of the gang, huh?” the waitress asked. This time she sounded downright sympathetic.

They nodded glumly. “You going to waste my good ice cream again?” she asked Stevie.

“I think I can manage a dish of blueberry with marshmallow topping,” Stevie muttered.

“Make mine a chocolate cone, please,” Carole said despondently.

The waitress looked at the two of them and shook her head. “Hope the lost sheep comes back to the flock soon, girls,” she said.

“Thanks,” they said together.

This time they did manage to finish their ice cream—even faster than usual, since they hardly spent any time talking. “Maybe if we—” Carole began.

“Yeah?” Stevie asked.

“Nothing,” Carole said. They stared into space for a few minutes.

“How about—” Stevie paused. Carole raised her eyebrows. “Nah,” Stevie said.

Finally Carole suggested, “Let’s give Lisa a ring and see how she’s doing. I’ll bet she’s calmed down by now. Maybe she has time to meet us—just for five minutes.”

Stevie was doubtful, but they decided to try. They got change for the pay phone from the waitress and dialed Lisa’s home number. Mrs. Atwood answered. “Is Lisa there?” Stevie inquired.

“You mean she’s not with you?” Lisa’s mother asked.

“Us? No, she left Pine Hollow hours ago,” Stevie said.

“But I thought for sure she’d be with you because the director of the play has called three times looking for her,” Mrs. Atwood explained.

“You mean she’s not at rehearsal?” Carole demanded.

“No, she never showed up.” Mrs. Atwood was beginning to sound concerned. “Do you have any idea where she might have gone after she left Pine Hollow?”

Stevie told Carole that Lisa was missing, but they both knew the answer. If Lisa wasn’t at home or at the theater or at Pine Hollow, there was only one other place she could be.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Atwood. We know where to find her,” Stevie said.