Tight Rein (6 page)

“Don’t tell Stevie,” Carole repeated. “After all, there’s nothing she can do anyway. She can’t leave the house for two weeks.”

“Right,” said Chad. “Okay.”

“Thanks, Chad,” Lisa said. “We knew we could count on you.” She smiled sadly at him. She thought about shaking his hand or something, but feared it would be too much. She got up from her chair, and Carole followed. Chad went with them to the door.

“I’m sorry about Stevie’s horse,” he said.

“So are we,” Carole said. “We’ll let you know how she’s doing.”

“Thanks,” Chad said uncertainly. He closed the door, and the girls heard his soccer ball bounce just once and then stop.

“Let’s get out of sight before we explode!” Lisa hissed. She and Carole dashed around the corner of the house, crouched under the bushes, and laughed until their sides hurt. Until she’d started laughing, Lisa hadn’t realized how tense she was. The conversation with Chad had been nerve-racking. So much depended on his believing them right from the start.

“Explain to me again,” Carole said, gasping for breath, “how Belle is like a—a–rudderless ship—lost—at sea!” She whooped with laughter.

“And, you know, Stevie is Belle’s main herd!” Lisa
laughed so much she could hardly breathe. She tried to keep it quiet. What if Chad could hear them from inside the house? “We’ve got to get out of here,” she said.

“Let’s say hi to Stevie first,” Carole suggested. They got up and went to Stevie’s window. This time she wasn’t in view, and Lisa had to throw sticks at the window to get her attention. When she saw them, Stevie immediately opened her window and waved. Soon a paper airplane floated down.

Hi!
it read.
I’m so bored! I hate Chad! Have you read
National Velvet?
What’s new?

“Nothing’s new,” Carole said. “We’re bored without you, too. Of course we’ve read
National Velvet.
We just wanted to say hi.”

“We
really
detest Chad,” Lisa added. “Does Chad ever change out of his soccer clothes?”

Stevie shrugged. She pinched her nose between her fingers and made a face as if she were smelling Chad’s old socks. Lisa and Carole laughed.

After a few minutes of one-sided conversation, they said good-bye and left. As they were walking back to Pine Hollow, Lisa asked Carole, “Don’t you think we should tell Stevie? Wouldn’t it be better if she knew?”

Carole shook her head. “The only way we could tell her is if we shout up to her window. We can’t take the
chance that Chad would hear us. If he did, it would totally wreck our plan.”

“You’re right. We can’t chance it,” said Lisa. “Stevie
has
to go to camp. And Chad
has
to suffer!”

“Suffer he will,” said Carole, her dark eyes glinting mischievously. “Suffer he will!”

L
ISA OPENED THE DOOR
of the stable office. “Max,” she asked, “would it be okay if I took Barq out and worked with him in the outdoor ring?”

Max looked up from the lunch he was eating at his desk with his wife, Deborah. “Sure,” he said with a smile. “I don’t need the ring again until two o’clock, and Barq’s only been in a beginner lesson so far today. But you can take Prancer if you want to. She’s not being worked much today, either.”

“Thanks, Max.” Lisa shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I think—I think I’d rather ride Barq today.”

“That’s fine.” As Lisa turned to leave, Max added, “I think there are a few stalls that still need cleaning. Red left for his summer-school class. Maybe after you ride—”

“I’ll do them, Max! Don’t worry!” This was one of the nicest things about Pine Hollow, Lisa thought as she went to get Barq’s saddle. Max expected everyone to help with the chores, but in return he was very generous about letting his students ride even when they weren’t taking lessons. It was a great deal.

Lisa patted Barq as she went into his stall. “We’re going to do it right today,” she told him. Carole had had to go to the doctor’s for her camp physical, so Lisa knew she would have a little time to work entirely alone, and entirely alone was how she wanted it. She and Barq were going to work on lengthening his stride, all by themselves, without advice from friends who knew everything. This was one time Lisa wanted to learn something on her own.

She groomed Barq, tacked him up, and led him into the outdoor arena. Some of the pole grids from Saturday’s lesson were still in place, and Lisa quickly reassembled the others. She moved some of the poles to normal trot length and others to extended trot. She didn’t keep any of them at short trot length, because she knew Barq was already good at that.

As she mounted, Lisa gave herself a little pep talk.
She had handled Chad well this morning. She had come up with a plan.
Surely
, she thought,
I can get one stubborn Arabian horse to lengthen his trot
. She began by trotting and cantering Barq around the ring several times, to warm him up and loosen his muscles.

After several minutes she brought him back to a trot and started working through the pole grids. The normal trot grid was no problem. Barq skillfully put his feet down in the spaces between the poles. Lisa sucked in her breath and aimed him at a longer grid. Barq started correctly, but his too-short stride made his feet whack the poles.
Whack
,
whack
,
whack.
Lisa sighed. Just like their lesson!

She circled the arena again.
Whack
,
whack
,
whack.
She tried coming from the other direction.
Clank
,
clank
,
clank.
She concentrated fiercely, trying hard to remember every single thing Max had told her. Heels down, legs tight against Barq’s sides, urging him forward with every stride. Hands low, steady, giving, to encourage the horse to stretch himself forward. Chest up, shoulders square, eyes straight ahead.

Whack
,
whack
,
whack.
She felt like whacking Barq. She knew, however, that almost all mistakes were the rider’s fault, not the horse’s—it was the rider’s job to tell the horse what to do and get the horse to cooperate.

Barq did not seem especially cooperative today. Lisa
wondered what she was doing wrong. Whenever she used her legs to push him forward, he speeded up instead of taking longer strides, and when she used her hands to slow him back down, he set his jaw against her. Lisa breathed deeply. She would get this right. She would.

Whack
,
whack
,
whack.
“Arrghhh!”
Lisa shouted in annoyance.

“I think one of the problems is that you’re giving with your hands too much, and too soon,” Carole said quietly. Lisa jumped and turned in the saddle. Carole was leaning against the side of the fence, watching. Lisa hadn’t even known she was there.

Lisa was already frustrated, and now being startled by Carole was too much.

“Oh, of course you would know what my problem is!” Lisa shouted. “You know everything about horses! You’ve even got one! You and Stevie both have horses, and I don’t, and it’s not fair!”

For a moment the friends stared at each other. Lisa blinked. She never lost her temper like that, especially not at Carole, and she was instantly sorry. At the same time she still felt full of boiling anger and a sense of injustice.

“I know it’s not fair,” Carole answered. She looked at Lisa with concern. “Stevie and I really wish you had a horse, too.”

The bubble of anger inside Lisa burst at this quiet declaration of sympathy. For a moment she thought she might cry. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t yell at you. None of this is your fault. And I know I should be glad that I at least get to ride—I mean, Max lets me ride almost whenever I want—but I always know less than you and Stevie, and I’m always having to catch up. Both of you could do this, even on Barq. I can’t.”

Carole nodded. “I bet it is hard,” she said. “Stevie and I have been riding for so much longer than you. But, Lisa, you know an awful lot, and Max always talks about what a fast learner you are.”

“I didn’t know about teeth filing,” Lisa retorted. “I mean, teeth
floating.
I’ve never known any horses that died of colic. And I can’t get Barq to lengthen.”

Carole looked thoughtful. “Be glad you never saw a horse die of colic,” she said. Then she smiled. “Maybe you didn’t know about teeth or colic,” she added, “but you can say things like ‘physically, horses are designed to graze continuously’ without even pausing to think about it. I could never do that!”

Lisa had to smile in return. “It’s
physiologically
, not
physically
,” she said. “It doesn’t mean quite the same thing.”

Carole grinned. “See? That’s exactly what I mean.” She looked at Barq. “And you will get him to lengthen,

Lisa; it just might take a little more work. Would you like me to help you, or would you rather I just went away?”

Lisa thought about how glad she was to have a friend like Carole, who understood her so well. She felt a little better now that she’d talked about what was bothering her. “I guess I’d like your help,” she said. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

Carole opened the gate and came into the arena. “I never mind, you know that. But I probably sound bossy sometimes. I don’t mean to, but if I ever start to annoy you, let me know, okay?”

“Okay.”

Carole replaced some of the poles that Barq had whacked out of position. Lisa picked up a trot again.

“Now,” Carole said as Lisa turned the corner before the poles, “use your leg but keep your hand steady. Then give with your hand as he starts to move into it. Give a lot, but not too much.”

“That’s useful,” Lisa said with a laugh. “When does it start to be too much?”

“When he speeds up,” Carole said. “That’s it! Good!”

Barq dropped his head, and for a moment Lisa thought he was getting it. They flowed over the poles, one-two-three-four-whack. Barq’s hooves hit the very last one.

“Yuck,” said Lisa.

“Much better,” Carole praised her. “Could you feel the difference?”

“I think so,” Lisa said, but she wasn’t sure. She tried several more times, but she never quite got it. Sometimes Barq would start to lengthen, but Lisa couldn’t get him to maintain his gait. He always whacked the last pole or two on the grid.

After they’d tried another half dozen times, Lisa pulled him to a halt. “That’s enough,” she said, giving Barq a pat. “I wish we’d done better, but I’m just going to upset him if we keep going. He’s doing his best. It’s me who’s not getting it.”

Carole also wished that Lisa had gotten it right. She rarely saw her friend so upset about her riding, and she sympathized. She wished Lisa had a horse.

Carole also thought Lisa was doing the right thing to stop before Barq became tired and cross. “You made good progress,” she said encouragingly. “He’ll get it next time.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Maybe. Want to go on a trail ride? I’ll walk Barq around out here while you get Starlight.” Carole readily agreed and hurried into the stable. Lisa watched her go with a strange mixture of affection and irritation. Carole was so kind and understanding. But Lisa still felt like a tagalong little sister, and the fact
that she couldn’t get Barg to lengthen bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

Lisa sighed. She was learning about sibling rivalry, all right, but this wasn’t the way she would have chosen to learn.

S
TEVIE HEARD A
soft tap on her bedroom door. “Go away!” she shouted. She yawned and stretched and turned the page of the book she was reading—
National Velvet
, for the three hundredth time.

Someone knocked again.

“Unless you’re bringing me a hot fudge sundae, go away!”

The door opened. “It’s me,” Chad said.

“I’m honored,” Stevie said, looking up briefly and going back to her book. “However, I have nothing whatsoever to say to you. Go away. And take that stupid soccer ball with you.”

Chad quit bouncing the ball. He came in and wandered around Stevie’s room. He picked up the model horses on her dresser and set them back down. He looked at her posters. He looked out the windows. He hummed to himself.

Stevie did her best to ignore him, but after a while it became impossible. “Are you deaf or stupid?” she asked. “I remember telling you to go away.”

“You don’t have to stay in your room all day,” Chad said. “You just have to stay in the house. You could come downstairs.”

“And hang out with you and Michael and Alex? No thanks. This is the one place where I’ve got my privacy.” She glared at her brother. “Or
had
my privacy. Or thought I had. I’m getting a lock put on my door. That way cretinous, slimy brothers can’t steal my riding boots in the middle of the night and—”

“Do you miss Belle?” Chad interrupted.

Stevie stared at him in amazement. He was even stupider than she’d thought. “Of course I miss Belle! You don’t have any idea!” She pointed to Chad’s soccer ball, now on her floor. “Imagine being separated from that ball of yours for two weeks, only imagine that the ball was alive, and happy to see you when you came to visit it. Imagine that you could ask it to do things and it would do them, and you could go places on it. Imagine that it was like a friend …” Stevie paused. “Oh, forget it. Unless you love horses, you’ll never really understand.” She lay back on her bed. “Now go away. You bug me.”