Cutting Horse (2 page)

“You mean Kate’s known about this for weeks and she hasn’t said a thing?” Stevie asked. She was amazed that anybody could keep such a fantastic secret.

“She wanted it to be a surprise. But the minute I got off the phone with Skye, I called the Devines. Kate was really mad that Skye had broken the news, because she wanted it to be a big surprise when we got there. But she can’t wait for us to come,” Lisa finished.

“Well, I guess the no-fun curse is off!” Carole said. At Lisa’s puzzled expression, she explained Stevie’s fear that any plan to have fun would backfire.

Lisa laughed. In a mock-serious tone, she said, “Don’t get any ideas that this trip is going to be all fun and
games. I did tell you we’re going to be working very hard, didn’t I?” When Carole and Stevie shook their heads, Lisa explained. “The three of us have very important jobs. Skye’s made us his official technical advisers on equine matters.”

“Huh?” Stevie said.

“We make sure he can ride,” Lisa translated.

“Considering how we met him, I think that’s appropriate,” Carole said, laughing. The girls had met Skye in New York City’s Central Park because he’d fallen off his horse trying to pretend he knew how to ride during a shoot. They’d rescued him and the horse and coached him so that he could ride well enough to get by in the movie.

Stevie liked the idea of being a technical adviser so much that she let out another whoop. “Yippee-hi-yi-yay!” she yelled, getting into the Western spirit. “The Saddle Club goes to the Bar None and the Bar None goes Hollywood! We’re going to have the best—” In the middle of her sentence, Stevie stopped. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the knob of the tack room door turning. She didn’t have to guess who it was.

Sure enough, Max Regnery III poked his head in. Max was the owner of Pine Hollow Stables and the girls’ riding instructor. “May I remind you three that you’re not ‘home
on the range’ yet, but in an enclosed stable in Willow Creek, Virginia, where loud noises carry!” he barked.

The minute he was gone, Stevie started to whistle under her breath, a defiant look in her eye.

“What tune is that?” Lisa asked.

Stevie leaned forward and said, in a stage whisper, “ ‘Don’t Fence Me In’!”

T
HE SMALL PLANE
touched down in a perfect landing. As they shuttled along the runway, Stevie, Lisa, and Carole burst into spontaneous applause. They had started their trip at the crack of dawn and slept most of the way to Denver, but now that they were on the ground, they were buzzing with excitement.

“You girls can fly with me anytime,” said Frank Devine, emerging from the cockpit a few minutes later.

“Does that mean we’re welcome at the ole Bar None anytime, too?” Stevie asked.

“Absolutely. Although I have to warn you: The Bar
None might not look quite so ‘ole’ anymore. In fact, you might not recognize the place. It’s been completely Hollywood-ized. Some days I forget I’m at a real ranch, it looks so much like a ranch
set.
”

The girls laughed. With its neat buildings and acres of prairie, and with the Rockies rising in the distance, the Bar None did look like the kind of ranch a movie producer would dream up. That was why it was called the Bar None—Kate’s parents had thought it was the prettiest ranch they had ever seen, bar none.

“Of course, around about feeding time, the horses remind me that they’re real enough,” Kate’s father continued. “And we do try to feed the humans at regular hours, too,” he added, with a sidelong glance at Stevie. Stevie’s unquenchable appetite was well known to the Devines.

“Phew!” Stevie exclaimed. “I thought maybe I was going to have to make do with fake movie food or something.”

“Nope. If we skimped on meals at the Bar None, my ranch hands would all go on strike, no doubt about it.”

The girls gathered up their bags and followed Frank down the steps of the plane, through the airport, and out to the passenger pickup area, where someone from the ranch was going to meet them. As usual, Lisa had twice as much luggage as Carole and Stevie.

“I’ll stow it in the bunkhouse the minute we get there,” Lisa promised in response to their groans about the weight. No matter how hard she tried, Lisa never succeeded in keeping her mother away from her suitcases before a big trip. When Mrs. Atwood had heard that Skye Ransom was going to be at the ranch, she’d gone crazier than usual, adding dresses, skirts, and blouses to Lisa’s overstuffed bags. She loved the fact that her daughter knew a real movie star, and she was always encouraging Lisa to look her best.

“You might not want to stow all of it,” Stevie said teasingly. “You never know when you’ll need to spruce up for a certain someone. Speaking of ranch hands …”

“Yes?” Lisa said innocently. She knew exactly what Stevie meant, but she also knew that Stevie was not about to let on, in front of Kate’s father, that Lisa liked one of his ranch hands. Dark-haired and tall, John Brightstar was an American Indian and the son of the Devines’ head wrangler, Walter Brightstar. John was about a year older than the girls. He worked on the ranch after school and in the summer. Lisa and he were friends, but they were a little more than friends, too. Lisa was looking forward to spending time with him on this trip.

Fortunately, Frank Devine was paying attention to the approaching cars and didn’t seem to notice the pause in
their conversation. “Here we go—here’s the van now,” he said.

The Saddle Club looked to see where he was pointing. “That’s them?” Lisa asked. Instead of the usual dilapidated ranch truck or weathered station wagon, a deluxe dark green minivan pulled up to the curb.

Frank nodded proudly. “We bought it a month ago, after we signed the contracts with Hollywood. Officially, it’s our ‘airport pickup’ van.”

The minute the van had stopped, the passenger-side window was lowered, and Kate stuck her head out. “Pretty spiffy, huh?” she cried. She pointed at the neat white lettering on the side of the van, which read T
HE
B
AR
N
ONE
, followed by the ranch logo: ō

“Spiffy enough for Skye Ransom!” Carole replied.

“Are you sure it’s not too posh for The Saddle Club?” Stevie joked.

“Absolutely not,” Kate said, getting out of the van. “Don’t forget: I’m a member, too.”

“How could we forget?” Stevie demanded as she, Lisa, and Carole hugged their friend.

When Lisa disentangled herself from the hugging, she checked to see who else had come to the airport. Walter and John Brightstar had gotten out of the van and were leaning against it, talking with Frank. Delighted that John
had come to greet her instead of waiting at the ranch, Lisa went forward to give him a big hug. But at the last minute she stopped and shyly said, “Hi.” There was something about John’s manner that had made her change her mind about the hug.

“Hi, Lisa,” John said in a subdued tone.

“How have you been? It’s great to see you,” Lisa said in a rush.

“I’ve been … okay, I guess,” John said.

Lisa was surprised by his response. She had assumed that everybody on the ranch would be infected with the Hollywood bug the way The Saddle Club was. But John certainly didn’t look thrilled—or sound it, either.

“All right. Troops in. Let’s get on home to the ranch,” Frank said, sounding like his old military self.

Lisa piled into the van with everyone else. She was sorry not to talk to John more, but it would be better to catch up with him later. If he was upset about something, he wouldn’t want to talk about it in front of everyone.

“So what do you think of Skye?” Stevie asked Kate as soon as they were on the way.

“He’s great!” Kate exclaimed. “He’s such a nice guy, and he’s so friendly and down-to-earth for a movie star. The day he arrived, he came right over to our house,
knocked on the door, and introduced himself to the whole family.”

“That’s just like Skye,” Carole said. “You almost forget he’s famous.”

“Even Dad would agree with that,” Kate said.

Frank looked back from the front seat. “I certainly would. That boy has impressed all of us.”

“Has he met the horses yet?” Carole inquired.

Kate nodded. “Oh, yes. This morning he came over and borrowed Spot to practice on.” With a giggle, Kate added, “I must say he looked pretty darn good on a horse, even though he’s not an expert rider.”

“Those blue eyes, those curly blond locks …,” Stevie murmured melodramatically.

“Okay, okay. We know what he looks like!” Carole protested.

“Look, I’m just glad to hear that everyone at the Bar None has joined the Skye Ransom Fan Club,” Stevie said. “Because we’ve been members since the day we met him.”

“You’re lucky that you’ve gotten to know him so well,” Kate said.

“Oh, we don’t know him
that
well,” Stevie said, her hazel eyes twinkling mischievously. “The only one of us who’s really spent any quality time with Skye is Lisa.”

“Quality time? Really?” Kate asked, eyebrows raised.

“Tell her, Lisa,” Stevie prompted.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Lisa muttered.

“Not that big of a deal? You were out in Los Angeles for a whole week with Skye, getting taken out every night as his date—”

“I wasn’t
with
Skye,” Lisa broke in. “I was with my mother.”

“Yeah, but—” Stevie stopped abruptly as Carole elbowed her.

“We
all
like Skye, and that’s the important thing,” Carole said firmly. Silently she wished that Stevie would stop talking about Lisa’s trip to California. Carole had noticed that during the conversation about Skye, Lisa had been silent. Obviously Lisa didn’t want them to talk in front of John about how much she liked Skye. She was sensitive enough to realize that John might mind. Stevie hadn’t picked up on that. And now she had made matters worse by bringing up Lisa’s California trip. The purpose of the trip had been for Lisa to visit her aunt, who was sick. It was only by chance that she’d been able to see Skye, too. But John didn’t know that—and, judging by her awkward expression, Lisa knew that he didn’t know.

The rest of the ride home was quieter. Lisa and John stared out their windows. Carole changed the subject to horses, and she and Kate exchanged notes on Starlight
and Kate’s horse Moonglow. It was a relief when they finally arrived at the ranch.

Walter dropped the girls off in front of the bunkhouse where they always stayed. Before she got out, Lisa told John that she hoped they’d have time to talk later.

“I do, too,” John said, “but I’m really busy. I—I’ll have to see.”

Lisa watched the van drive off. So far her reunion with John wasn’t going the way she had expected. And she had no idea why.

F
RANK
D
EVINE WAS RIGHT
: The girls hardly recognized the place. The Bar None had been transformed into a Hollywood studio. Behind the bunkhouse and stables was a long row of trailers, and behind them, a smaller row of portable toilets. All over the ranch, roped-off sections divided the property. Huge sets of lights on wheels flanked different sections. And everywhere, there were people—people riding vehicles like golf carts from place to place, people dashing around with camera equipment, people laying out food on picnic tables, people talking on cellular phones, people running, people yelling, people arguing.

Stevie, Carole, and Lisa set their luggage down and just stared for several minutes.

“It’s kind of a three-ring circus, isn’t it?” said Kate.

“More like ten-ring!” Carole responded. “How are the horses holding up?”

The girls smiled. It was just like Carole to ask about the horses. She was always more concerned with their welfare than anyone else’s.

“Why don’t we go see for ourselves?” Kate suggested. “In fact, let’s sneak out on a trail ride before somebody puts us to work!”

The girls didn’t have to be asked twice. Within minutes they had dumped their bags in the bunkhouse, changed into jeans and boots, and headed out to the stable.

Lisa, Carole, and Stevie each had a favorite horse at the Bar None. Lisa’s was a pretty bay mare called Chocolate. Carole rode Berry, a strawberry roan. Stevie rode Stewball.

Stewball was a very unusual horse. First there was his color. He was a skewbald, meaning he was white with irregular patches of a brownish chestnut color. But more than his color, it was his personality that made him unique. He was the stubbornest horse the girls had ever encountered. Anything he did, he did his way, from picking up a trot to rounding up cattle. Stevie had learned very quickly that it was hopeless for her to tell Stewball how to do something: He would just ignore her. And he
was such a great cutting horse and all-around Western mount that there was no reason to even
try
to tell him what to do. Chances were, he would be right and the rider would be wrong.

As the girls groomed the horses and tacked up, Lisa brought up John’s sober mood. “I wish I knew what was irking him—if something was. Maybe I’m just being hypersensitive.”

“It’s all my fault,” Stevie said. “I didn’t even realize the conversation about Skye would upset John until everyone got so quiet.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lisa said. “That obviously didn’t help things, but John was in a bad mood before that. He doesn’t seem to be himself.”