Stagecoach (9 page)

Mrs. Spitz looked down at Lisa seriously. “Is this going to be the last time?” she asked. Lisa nodded as vigorously as she could. “Then, look. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but I still think you’re going to do a wonderful job as Annie.”

“I know I will,” Lisa promised. “But it’s not just because of me. It’s because I’ve got the best coaches in the world.”

“Drama coaches?” Mrs. Spitz asked.

“Not
exactly
,” Lisa said.

A
T EXACTLY NINE FORTY-THREE
Carole and Stevie rang the Atwood doorbell. They had commandeered Colonel Hanson into giving them a ride over. He had also supplied a tray of marshmallow crispies for the meeting. All three of them had waited in the car for five minutes, not wanting to disturb Lisa. They had decided to ring one minute early, so that they could catch her right as she started her break.

Mrs. Atwood opened the door right away. “Good timing, girls. You’ve got thirty seconds to get up to her bedroom. Now, scoot!” Lisa and Carole didn’t have to be told twice. Before Mrs. Atwood could finish asking Colonel Hanson to come in for coffee, they were through the door. They knew the layout of the Atwood
house by heart and were up the stairs in an instant. Like a herd of wild horses, they thundered down the hallway to Lisa’s room.

“Open up! Committee to Save Lisa Atwood’s Life as a Pony Clubber!” Stevie announced, banging on the door.

Inside the room they heard Lisa counting, “Five, four, three, two, one—open sesame!”

Carole and Stevie burst inside, both talking a mile a minute. Lisa tried to interrupt to tell them she couldn’t listen to both of them at once, but they refused to allow her to talk. “We only have twelve minutes! No, eleven!” Stevie said.

By the time they were down to eight, two things had become clear to Lisa. First, the team was currently a disorganized mess because nobody had had time to get her own things together, let alone work on gathering the communal equipment. And second, the dressage team desperately needed help.

“So if I have this right, what you’re saying is—” Lisa started to say.

“What we’re saying is, can that computer of yours print out equipment checklists and feeding schedules as well as history papers because
we want you to be the stable manager!
” Stevie finished.

Lisa looked at her two friends. Her day had had as many highs and lows as the roller coaster at the amusement park. And it was ending on the highest peak yet.

“So?” Carole asked.

“So? So! So I say since you guys got the news out in four minutes, we still have eight to celebrate in! Break out the marshmallow crispies!” Lisa cried.

“Yippee-hi-yi-yay!” Stevie whooped.

The Saddle Club made good use of the time allowed. They did an impromptu dance around Lisa’s room—which involved screaming for joy and tossing stuffed animals in the air—flopped down onto her bed, and ate about six crispies apiece.

“This really is the perfect solution,” Lisa said, chewing on a treat. “I have
some
time to devote to the rally—I just can’t be responsible for getting Prancer ready. As stable manager I’ll only have to answer to you guys.”

“More like we’ll have to answer to you,” Stevie pointed out.

“And even though you’re not riding, you’re still making a huge contribution to the team,” Carole said.

“Boy, will Max and Mrs. Reg be thrilled. Especially Mrs. Reg. The poor woman walked in on us and Polly and Betsy when we were on the brink of a knockdown, drag-out fight over who was going to buy the new first-aid kit!” Stevie exclaimed.

“Consider it bought,” Lisa said. She dashed off a note to herself on a memo pad. Carole and Stevie leaned back on their pillows and grinned from ear to ear. They felt relieved already, knowing that Lisa, the most organized
and efficient member of The Saddle Club—and probably of Horse Wise, too—had taken over.

“I can just picture the beautiful checklists and schedules you’ll draw up on your computer,” Stevie said dreamily.

“And the clipboard you’ll carry around at the rally,” Carole added, sighing.

Lisa leaned over and reached under her bed. “You mean this one?” she asked. She held up a weathered clipboard with a pen attached.

“Carole,” Stevie said, “our every problem is solved.”

When the eight minutes were long since past, Colonel Hanson hollered up the stairs for Stevie and Carole. Lisa had decided that since she no longer had to ride, she could extend her free time by ten or fifteen minutes—or maybe even half an hour. She promised to have the forms printed out by Monday to give to Carole at school.

“B
ETTER AND BETTER
,” Carole commented appreciatively. She had just watched Stevie run through all of the transitions in her test. As usual she and Topside were in top form. The girls were having their regular Tuesday lesson. Max was down at the other end of the ring working intensively with Polly and Romeo, whose circles looked more like squares.

“Thanks,” Stevie said, “but I’m not sure if we are better
and better. Most of the time I feel like we’re always the same.”

Carole amended her compliment. “Okay, you’re always the same, and that’s always good. The judges will love him.”

“Exactly,” Stevie said glumly. “They’ll love
him,
and
he
deserves all the praise he gets.”

“I didn’t mean it like that—you look great, too,” Carole added hastily.

Stevie apologized. She explained that she didn’t want Carole to think she was fishing for compliments, but she really and truly believed that whatever score they received, Topside would be the reason. “We might get a blue ribbon; we might not. It hardly matters. If we do, it won’t be a big deal anyway. Topside will have earned it, and he’s gotten blue ribbons at international competitions like the American Horse Show—what would it mean to get one at a little Pony Club rally?”

“It would mean—” Carole paused. What would it mean? She didn’t know, because she’d never had Stevie’s problem. She had never
expected
to get a blue. And whenever she and Starlight did well, she knew they had both worked hard.

“It’s hard to answer, isn’t it? The whole point of Pony Club is to learn. But I’m not learning anything. On Topside I’m just sitting back and enjoying the ride,” Stevie said.

“Are you saying that you want more of a challenge?” Carole asked.

Stevie nodded, a slow grin creeping across her face. “Want—and have: I’ve decided to ride Prancer at the rally if it’s all right with Max.”

Carole clapped her hands together in excitement. “That’s a great idea! It’ll be wonderful for you
and
Prancer. Why didn’t you just say so?”

Stevie tossed her head airily. “Oh, I wanted to build up the dramatic suspense,” she said.

“Humph,” Carole muttered. “Maybe you’re the one who ought to be onstage.”

A
FTER CLASS
C
AROLE
and Stevie walked around handing out the forms Lisa had drawn up. They felt very important—first, to have solved the club’s stable-management problem, and second, to be presenting such perfect documents. Betsy and Polly oohed and aahed openly at Lisa’s neat work, just as they had admired the new first-aid kit she had dropped off on her way to school.

“Wow, she thought of
every
thing,” Polly exclaimed.

“I know,” Betsy agreed. “Who else would have remembered hair nets? My mother and I are always having a mad search at the last minute.”

When Veronica got her forms, she just shrugged. “It’s about time Lisa got her act together. Obviously, she
wasn’t going to be able to ride that wild horse off the track,” she muttered.

“Oh, you mean Prancer?” Stevie asked innocently.

Veronica nodded. “Of course. That horse won’t be ready to go to a show for months, let alone a Pony Club rally.”

Stevie and Carole said nothing. On their way back past Garnet’s stall, they noticed Veronica poring over the handouts, an impressed look on her face.

“I hope she looks like that when she hears the news about Prancer,” Carole whispered.

Max and Mrs. Reg had been as thrilled as The Saddle Club predicted about the new arrangement. An expression of pure relief had passed between them. “I hated to tell you girls, but I was getting nervous about filling that spot,” Mrs. Reg admitted. “Now I’ve no doubt you’ll have the best inspections at the rally. You couldn’t ask for a better stable manager. Not in the whole region.”

As for Stevie’s riding Prancer, Max couldn’t have been more pleased. He had actually given Stevie a hug! She was so shocked that she had stood there speechless while Max exclaimed, “Good for you! Good for you, Stevie Lake!” about ten times in a row. Finally he had stepped back, looked her in the eye, and said, “We might make a horsewoman out of you yet.” Stevie figured praise like that ought to keep her walking on air till the year 2025.

“Maybe more like the year 2050,” Carole commented when Stevie related the news.

On their way out the two girls stopped by Mrs. Reg’s office to pick up the completed forms that they had instructed everyone to drop off there. Tacked to her bulletin board was a note in Max’s handwriting.
Final Dressage-Rally Teams,
it said at the top.
Horse Wise team: Carole Hanson
(
Starlight
),
Betsy Cavanaugh
(
Barq
),
Polly Giacomin
(
Romeo
),
Stephanie Lake
(
Prancer
),
Lisa Atwood
(
stable manager
).
Riding on Mixed Team with Sunny Valley PC: Veronica diAngelo
(
Garnet
).

“But how do you think Max decided?” Carole asked. It went without saying that they could hardly believe their luck: With Lisa stable-managing, there was only one extra Horse Wise rider, and Max had chosen to put Veronica on the mixed team.

“I think Mrs. Reg had a hand in it,” Stevie answered knowingly. “Remember when she caught us fighting about the stable management? That was pretty bad, but there was one person who didn’t even show up to fight! And not coming is a whole lot worse, wouldn’t you say?”

“I most certainly would,” a voice behind them said.

Carole and Stevie whirled around to see Mrs. Reg standing at the door. “So Veronica is not going to be on the Horse Wise team. End of story.”

“But won’t she—” Carole began. She had been about
to say, “Won’t she throw a fit?” but had stopped herself in the interest of club spirit.

Mrs. Reg answered her unspoken question anyway. “I doubt she’ll be upset. The Sunny Valley team is the home team—the host club—and they’ve won dressage rally two years in a row, you know. Veronica’s just lucky that one of their four top riders came down with the chicken pox yesterday, and their district commissioner called me this afternoon. The truth is she has a much better chance of winning on that team,” Mrs. Reg explained.

Stevie put her hands on her hips and eyed Mrs. Reg narrowly. “Them’s fighting words, ma’am,” she said in a Southern drawl.

“Good! A little healthy competition never hurt anyone,” Mrs. Reg replied. She leaned down and put an arm around each of them. Barely whispering, she asked, “Do you want to guess who I’m rooting for?”

Carole and Stevie grinned. They didn’t have to guess; they knew.

“E
VERYBODY IN
?” Mrs. Reg asked. She was seated in the driver’s seat of the big Pine Hollow horse van. She looked at her watch anxiously. To everyone’s disappointment it was overcast and raining. The foul weather had required dozens of last-minute preparations, and they were running a little late.

“Almost!” Lisa called. She had shown up at Pine Hollow at five
A.M.
and had been scurrying around ever since. She had grabbed rain sheets, raincoats, boot rubbers, and every spare towel or cloth she could find to fight the mud with. While Veronica loaded Garnet into the diAngelos’ deluxe rig, Lisa had helped Max and Mrs. Reg load the four horses into the Pine Hollow van—including van-shy Barq, who had balked several times.
Then she had personally checked over all of the equipment one last time. Now she jumped up into the passenger-side seat of the van, clipboard in hand. “All’s aboard that’s going aboard, Mrs. Reg.”

Mrs. Reg looked at Lisa appreciatively. “I don’t know what we’d do without you, Lisa,” she said. “I honestly don’t.” She started the engine, and the big van lumbered out of the driveway.

Thirty minutes later they pulled into the fairgrounds that Sunny Valley PC called home. The fields were a whirlwind of activity. Pony Clubbers darted from the stable area to the trailers. Parents hovered underneath the refreshment tent, drinking coffee and praying for sun. Carole, Stevie, Polly, and Betsy had ridden over to the rally with Max in Colonel Hanson’s station wagon. They had staked out the Horse Wise stalls and were busy hoisting up the banner. As soon as the Pine Hollow van pulled in, they all dashed out to get their horses. Mrs. Reg helped them unload while Max gave last-minute advice. Colonel Hanson picked up the team packet with numbers, riding times, and maps. Then the three adults had to leave. The rally was beginning, and they could no longer help out, other than in an emergency. Max gathered everyone together for a final pep talk. “You’ve worked hard, and you deserve to be here. Ignore the rain as much as you can. Listen to what Lisa says. She’s in charge. Help out anyone who needs it—on this team or
any other. Think about your tests before, during, and after you ride them. Have fun out there. And good luck!”

Lisa leaned against one of the stalls as she watched Max hurry away. Later she realized that it was the only time she stopped moving all day.

T
HE FIRST CHALLENGE
of the rally was taking the written test. Carole felt sure she had done well. “We’re off to a flying start,” she told the others as they handed in their tests.

“Speak for yourself,” Stevie said. “I guessed on about half the questions. The last-minute studying in the car this morning paid off, though. That’s how I got ‘rough-age,’ ‘bone spavin,’ and the short essay on worming.”

Betsy and Polly agreed. The quizzing from Max on the way over had been all the studying they had had time for. Luckily, it seemed to have done the trick. “How about the look on Veronica’s face when they announced they were handing out the tests?” Polly joked. Usually she and Betsy were friendly with Veronica, but even they had gotten upset when she had skipped the stable-management meeting.

“Poor Sunny Valley,” Stevie said ruefully, “how could they have known what they were getting themselves into?” She stole a glance back at Veronica, who was still working on her test—or at least still staring at the questions
and her blank paper. As Stevie turned to join the rest of Horse Wise, she bumped smack into another competitor. “Excuse me, I was just—”

“Oh,
no,
excuse
me,
Miss Lake!”

Stevie whirled around. Standing in front of her was Phil Marsten. Behind him she glimpsed Cam Nelson chatting with Carole. “I didn’t know
you
were representing Cross County!” Stevie said accusingly.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly tell me that you were on the Horse Wise team, either,” Phil pointed out.

“
We
didn’t even know that we were the Horse Wise team until two weeks ago,” Stevie protested. “And what are you doing here?” she asked Cam. He had draped an arm casually over Carole’s shoulders, and she was practically glowing.

Cam and Carole laughed at Stevie’s accusatory tone.

“I’m competing as an individual,” Cam explained. “Or I should say, Duffy and I are competing as two individuals. My home club didn’t have anyone else who wanted to go.”

“Naturally we met up when I decided to copy every answer off of Cam’s written test,” Phil joked.

Carole smiled. She was pleased that Phil had obviously remembered how well Cam had done at the Pine Hollow Know-Down.

“So why didn’t Max tell you about this earlier?” Cam
asked. Carole and Stevie started to explain at the same time.

Lisa took one look at the happy group and decided to put an end to the discussion right away. With Stevie and Carole’s boyfriends involved, there was no telling how much time this group would spend kidding around. “It’s a long story,” she said, trying to sound both pleasant and authoritative, “and unfortunately we don’t have time to tell it.”

“Let me guess, you’re the stable manager, right?” Cam said.

“You got it,” Lisa said. “And I’ve got a brown gelding with four white socks first up for inspection. With all this mud he’ll have four black socks!”

“Hey! Don’t forget A.J.’s horse is gray—all over,” Phil pointed out, referring to their team member’s Connemara mare. “We practically had to throw her in the washing machine and bleach out the grass stains—and all for nothing! If there was any justice in this world, they’d call this place
Rainy and Muddy
Valley Pony Club!”

Everyone laughed. Then Horse Wise and Cross County teams introduced their team members who didn’t know each other and agreed to meet after the closing ceremony, which would take place late that afternoon.

“All right, until then—and may the best club win,”
Phil pronounced. He and Stevie exchanged looks. The two were known for their competitive spirits.

“Humph, we all know who that is,” she said, sticking her nose in the air.

A
S SOON AS
the girls got back to the stable area, Lisa posted the day’s schedule, with the Horse Wise inspection and riding times highlighted. All of the inspections were about twenty minutes apart, and the dressage tests started right afterward. It was time to pick up the pace.

Lisa began delegating tasks right and left. If she didn’t get everyone going, they would stay where they were—sitting on hay bales and complaining about the rain. “All right, Polly, you’re first. Go and get dressed. Stevie and I will get Romeo out and go to work. Carole, you and Betsy start grooming Barq. Then, when Polly’s gone, Stevie will start on Starlight. I’ll final-check everyone before you go, so don’t leave before I see you.”

As Lisa spoke, two women in tweeds and mackintosh rain jackets stood by, listening intently. They made a couple of marks on their clipboards, nodded to the team, and went away. Lisa gulped.
Judges
, she thought, and she knew they’d be back when she least expected it.

The inspections flew by in a haze of activity. Betsy forgot her Pony Club pin, and Lisa had to chase her down. Then Carole couldn’t find her stock tie. It had somehow gotten lost between Pine Hollow and Sunny
Valley. Lisa ran and caught Polly just finishing her inspection, practically ripped her tie off her neck, and charged back to tie it onto Carole’s. Meanwhile she kept a running total of the Horse Wise deductions. At the end of tack and turnout, they’d been deducted for Polly and Betsy’s dry stirrup leathers—all the cleaning in the world didn’t take the place of regular oiling and care; Prancer’s knobby chestnuts—Stevie was squeamish about picking them off; a stone in Starlight’s hoof—unknown to Carole, he must have picked it up on the way over; and the boot polish on the inside of Carole’s boots—it could rub off on her saddle and make black marks.

Carole felt a little bad that she and Starlight had messed up two things until she found out that she, Lisa (without any last-minute quizzing in the car), and Cam had received the only three perfect written test scores. It also cheered her up to see Veronica’s name on the “50% or More Wrong” list. She passed Cam on the way back from the scoreboards and gave him the thumbs-up sign.

When it was time for the first set of dressage tests, it had started to rain so hard that keeping neat was practically impossible. Lisa shined everyone’s boots, nevertheless, and sent them off as spotless as she could manage. She stayed behind to make sure the stable area ran smoothly. One by one they came back, soaked, bedraggled, and totally unsure of how they had done.

“I’m not even sure the judge could
see
my test, let alone be able to grade it,” Stevie said. “Poor Prancer slid right both halts. I guess she held up pretty well, though, considering that we’ve never been out in a tidal wave before. I think in her past life she must have been a ‘mudder’—you know, those racehorses who like a wet, slippery track.”

“I can’t say the same for Starlight,” Carole said. They had all stripped off their wet clothes, hayed the horses, and sat down underneath the gray-and-green Horse Wise banner to wolf down Mrs. Reg’s ham-and-cheese sandwiches. “He kept his ears pinned back the entire time. Actually, he looked so mad to be out in this weather that it made me crack up, and then I was totally relaxed.”

“Barq couldn’t believe we were out there, either,” Betsy said. “The poor guy wishes he were back on the desert sands with his Arabian ancestors.”

Polly was the only one who actually felt good about her ride. Perky, steady Romeo had proved himself a real trouper and hadn’t seemed to mind the rain at all. “You’re the best, aren’t you?” Polly said, getting up to give him a hug.

Lisa refused to let the others check the scores after lunch. Instead, she told them to talk each other through their second dressage tests, which, judging from the clearing skies, would matter a whole lot more. By herself
she darted up to the fence where they were posted. She could barely read the numbers through the rain-coated plastic covering, but one thing was clear: The bad weather had kept everyone very close. Sunny Valley was in the lead, as Mrs. Reg had predicted, but a group of four teams, including Horse Wise and Cross County, were hot on the trail and well within striking distance. None of the stable-management scores had been added up yet. Individually, Polly and Romeo were in the top ten, as were Cam on Duffy, and Phil on Teddy. Stevie, Betsy, and Carole had all scored in the top half. Lisa took a few quick notes in case it came down to the wire. Then she went to get the crew ready. Running back through the drizzle, she saw Mrs. Reg, Max, and Colonel Hanson going up to check the scores themselves.

“Keep up the good work, Lisa!” Max yelled. Lisa vowed silently that she would.

In the afternoon there was a little bit more time between Horse Wise rides, so the stable managers could sneak out and watch after getting their next riders ready. Polly and Romeo put in another good, solid ride. They weren’t spectacular, but they got the job done. Betsy had more trouble on Barq. The Arabian still seemed annoyed about the footing, and he went around looking stiff and unbalanced. One of the nicest tests Lisa saw was Cam’s. He sat quietly and let Duffy strut his stuff. They had obviously been working hard. As Lisa gave Carole’s
stirrup irons a final swipe, she crossed her fingers that Starlight would look equally polished.

“O
NE-TWO, ONE-TWO, LIKE
a metronome. One-two,” Carole repeated to herself as she circled the ring. The rain had finally stopped entirely, and she could feel her hands sweating. Swallowing hard, she made herself sit up straighter and think about everything Max and Stevie and Starlight had been telling her—not only for the past two weeks but for the past year. She took a deep breath. She patted Starlight’s neck, entered at a working trot, and saluted.

From her vantage point on the slope beside the ring, Lisa watched as the two put in their best test ever. Starlight wasn’t transformed into a perfect dressage horse—he still didn’t bend around the corners—but he paid attention to Carole.

“Accurate, steady, rhythmical—all the fundamentals are there,” Lisa said to herself happily. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Cam holding Duffy. He gave Lisa a grin that told her he was thinking the same thing.

Stevie was the last Horse Wise rider to go and one of the last riders of the day. The whole team came out to watch. A few minutes before she started, Phil and Cam appeared, along with their friend A.J. If Stevie noticed her fan club, she didn’t show it. She rode her test calmly and methodically. When Prancer got silly, Stevie corrected
her right away. When she wanted to go too fast, Stevie steadied her with her hands and seat. As they came down the center line for the second time, Horse Wise let out a collective sigh of relief. They had done it: The Thoroughbred mare off the track and the determined junior rider had competed successfully at a Pony Club event. Before she could dismount, Horse Wise, Cross County, and both teams’ parents and coaches had surrounded Stevie in a cheering crowd.

I
N THE STATION
wagon on the way home, the girls ate two boxes of leftover cookies and rehashed the entire day, from waking up and seeing black skies to riding en masse to collect their third-place-team ribbons.