Starting Gate

“What do you think you’re doing to that animal?” George looked at Lisa, Carole, and Stevie and frowned. “Are these girls professional trainers? Are they accustomed to working with valuable equine actors?”

“They are my guests, George,” Skye said reasonably. “They are here at my invitation.”

“And they are leaving at
my
invitation!” said George, tapping his riding crop against the side of his boot.

“I think you’re being unfair, George,” protested Skye. “These girls are expert horsewomen. Far better riders than I am.”

“It wouldn’t take much to be a better rider than you, Ransom.” George’s upper lip curled in a snarl.

For an instant, Skye’s fists clenched in anger, then he turned and smiled at the girls.

“I’m sorry you had to see the ugly side of filmmaking,” he apologized loudly. “Let’s go back to my trailer. The atmosphere is a lot friendlier there!”

“I’
M SUPPOSED TO
take these horses where?” The lanky young man with the long blond ponytail scratched his head as he leaned against the huge red In-Transit horse trailer.

“Ashford Farms, California,” gushed Stevie Lake. “The National Pony Club Competition. In five days Carole and Lisa and I are riding in it. We all belong to The Saddle Club. Veronica’s riding in it, too, but she’s not a member of The Saddle Club. Max and Deborah and Maxi are going, too, but they’re not riding. Max is too old, and, well, Maxi, she’s only a baby.”

“Huh?” The young man frowned. Stevie realized he was far from absorbing the torrent of words that
were spilling from her mouth. The look on his face was total confusion.

“California,” Stevie repeated. “A group of us from Pine Hollow are riding in the Pony Club competition there.”

“California?” The young man stared at her as if he’d never heard of California before.

“Yes!” Stevie cried, almost dancing with excitement. “California! You know. Movie stars. Orange groves. Giant redwood trees.”

“California?” he repeated again, his eyes glazing over.

“Ca-li-for-nia.” Veronica diAngelo walked over to the man and spoke slowly, as if she were addressing some alien from outer space. “The only state that stands between Nevada and the Pacific Ocean.”

The young man turned and blinked. “Really?”

“Don’t confuse him with geography, Veronica,” Lisa Atwood suggested in a whisper.

That was when Mrs. Reg, who managed Pine Hollow Stables for her son, Max, tuned in to their conversation. “Why not show him on the map, girls?” she said as she checked through a stack of official-looking Pony Club papers.

Veronica, Stevie, and Lisa unfolded the map that the young man had been clutching in his hand and spread it out on the gleaming hood of the red truck.

“Here.” Stevie squinted in the bright sun and pointed to a small dot on the right edge of the map. “Here’s where we are: Willow Creek, Virginia. You’re supposed to drive our horses over here”—she slowly moved her finger all the way across the map—“to Ashford Farms, just outside Los Angeles, California.”

For a moment no one breathed as the young man’s gaze followed Stevie’s finger. “Okay,” he finally said. “Cool. You want me to drive here.” He poked one finger down in the middle of California.

“Right.” Everyone sighed with relief.

“But where are the horses?”

Everyone groaned.

“There!” Stevie cried, pointing toward the van. “You’re taking Prancer and Danny and Starlight and Belle, our four horses. Carole and Max are loading them into your van now!”

“Oh!” The young man suddenly grinned. “Those horses. I wondered where they were going!”

At that, Mrs. Reg glared at the young man and gathered up her papers. “I’m calling the In-Transit people right this minute,” she announced, stomping off toward the barn. “Every April they promise me they’ll send somebody out here who can drive horses and today we wind up with a driver who can’t tell a horse from a hedgehog!”

Everyone watched in awkward silence as Mrs. Reg disappeared into the barn.

“I don’t know what she’s so upset about,” the driver sighed. “I mean, like, I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Have you ever driven horses before?” Stevie asked more gently.

“Sure I have,” he replied, smoothing his stringy hair back behind his ears. “I used to drive Captain Gizmo’s Magic Pony Ride all over this county.”

Stevie and Lisa exchanged quick glances of terror. It was nerve-racking enough to be entering a national competition all the way on the other side of the country, but to entrust the horses they loved best in the world to someone whose only previous experience seemed to be driving Captain Gizmo’s Magic Pony Ride was almost too much.

“Maybe this was not such a great idea,” Stevie whispered in Lisa’s ear. “Maybe we should all just compete in the show next year, when it will be closer to home.”

“Wait,” Lisa whispered back, giving Stevie a quick wink as she turned to the driver. “Since you’ve worked with Captain Gizmo, you must know that horses aren’t like regular cargo. You’ve got to take time to water and feed them.”

“Yeah. I know all about horses. You can’t let them get too hot or they’ll throw up or something.” The young man put his cap on and began to climb into
the cab of the In-Transit truck. “Well, I’m ready. California, here we come!”

“Wait!” cried Lisa. “We haven’t loaded our tack trunks!”

“Or the feeding instructions,” added Stevie.

“Or Danny!” Veronica added, watching as Max and Carole led the big gray Thoroughbred out of the barn and up to the loading ramp.

“But I’ve got a schedule to keep—” the young man began.

“Not without Danny and the rest of our stuff, you don’t,” Stevie snapped, her patience wearing thin. “You just stand there and don’t move until everything gets loaded!”

Stevie and Lisa kept one eye on the driver while Carole loaded Danny, then Max and Red O’Malley pushed three tack trunks into the enormous trailer.

“Say, while we’re standing here, let me give you these pills for my horse,” Veronica chirped to the driver as she dug out a small bottle of green capsules from the pocket of her jeans.

“Which one is yours?” the driver asked, frowning at the pills.

“The big gray gelding they just loaded. You should check on him every half hour or so. He’s a Thoroughbred and they’re notorious about going crazy on road trips.”

“I don’t know about this …” The driver swallowed hard.

“He’s skittish,” Veronica continued. “He’s got these incredible bloodlines—”

Stevie interrupted her with a snort. “Veronica, the last time we trucked Danny to a show we practically had to wake him up to lead him off the trailer. He’s not a problem on the road at all.” She sighed at Veronica’s need for special attention even from this idiot truck driver. “Why don’t you wait until Danny’s been on the van for at least five minutes before you have the driver start medicating him?”

“Oh, all right,” sighed Veronica, putting the medicine back in her pocket. “It’s just such a hot day for early April, and all we’re doing is standing around wasting time.”

“Yeah,” grumbled the driver. “I need to get on the road right away. By the way, how far is it to California?”

Stevie and Lisa looked at each other as if they might cry. “Four days,” Stevie croaked, a hard lump of fear now lodged firmly in her throat. “You need to have our horses there by Thursday.”

“No problem,” chuckled the driver. “I once drove Captain Gizmo’s magic ponies from Willow Creek to English Mountain in fifteen minutes. I know I can get these four horses to California by Thursday.”

Just then Max and Carole jumped down from the
trailer. “Okay,” Max said. “We’re all set. The horses are in good shape, listening to Mozart, thanks to Carole’s cassette player. Everything in order here?”

“No.” Stevie crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re about as far from being in order as we can get.” She turned and looked at Max. She hated to be rude, but the safety of their horses was at stake. “Max,” she said softly, hoping she sounded diplomatic, “I don’t know if this driver has the experience we need to get our horses to California.”

“Oh?” Max turned and studied the driver, his blue eyes flashing with concern. “You ever haul show horses before, buddy?”

“Captain Gizmo’s Magic Pony Ride,” the young man said proudly just as Mrs. Reg hurried up from the barn.

“Okay, everybody. I just talked to the In-Transit people,” she announced, little wisps of gray hair curling around her flushed face. “Seems the driver who was supposed to pick up these horses broke his leg yesterday. This is Darrell, the substitute driver.”

“And?” Max’s brows wrinkled in a frown.

“And Darrell has driven both cows and horses before, but more importantly, he’s scheduled to meet the certified horse transport expert in Richmond, which isn’t far away at all.”

Darrell nodded. “I drive that route at least twice a week. That’s where I thought I was supposed to take
these horses. You guys were the ones who started jabbering about California.”