Endurance Ride (3 page)

Chloe looked at them and seemed surprised. “This is your first endurance ride, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Stevie, “but why would you think so?”

Chloe laughed. “Well, Max told me, but I would have guessed anyway. I thought so last night when I saw you. I mean, look at you!”

The Saddle Club looked. They saw their usual selves. They weren’t dressed for the ride yet—in fact, they were wearing the jeans and sweatshirts they’d had on the night before—but Chloe wasn’t dressed for the ride yet, either. Their horses’ stalls weren’t as spiffed up as they would be for a Pony Club rally, but all their equipment was neat and in order. The horses looked great. Just who did Chloe think she was?

Max didn’t seem to notice Chloe’s astounding arrogance or the way it had stunned The Saddle Club. He grinned
and clapped Chloe lightly on the shoulder. “I know I’m supposed to be responsible for you,” he said, “but with your experience, maybe you don’t need a sponsor.”

Oh, please
, Lisa thought, hoping that maybe the ride organizers
would
let Chloe go on her own.

“Oh, no,” Chloe assured him. “I absolutely do need a sponsor. It’s true that I’ve got enough miles to ride without one, but if I do, even once, they’ll move me out of the junior division forever. I don’t want to ride in the adult division yet. I’m leading the points in this region for the juniors right now, but I wouldn’t be able to catch the adult points leader.”

Max gave a little shake of his head. Carole thought that maybe he hadn’t expected Chloe to take him seriously. “Wow,” he said. “I can tell you really know endurance riding. I’m sure we’ll do fine.”

“I’m sure we will,” Chloe said. “I promise, I don’t care how fast we go. All I want to do is have my horse finish in twelve hours. I’ll go just as slowly as you all need.”

If you looked at it analytically, thought Lisa, who was good at looking at things analytically, there was nothing truly insulting about what Chloe was saying. She hadn’t called them names or made fun of their horses. She hadn’t laughed—except when Lisa hadn’t understood her. She seemed genuine, forthright, and sincere.

Yet somehow, despite having just met them, she assumed they knew absolutely nothing, and she was treating them like babies. Even Max. That, Lisa decided, was very insulting indeed. It didn’t help that Max seemed so impressed with Chloe, either.

Earlier in the morning Lisa had had doubts about her ability to complete the endurance ride, but now, in the face of Chloe’s contempt, she had none. Hadn’t they ridden for hours on end before, on mountain trails, in forests, on beaches? Hadn’t they been training for this ride for weeks? How hard could this be? As Phil had said, they only had to go four and a half miles an hour. Lisa was profoundly sorry that Chloe was going with them on the ride. From the looks on Carole’s and Stevie’s faces, she could tell they felt the same way. Phil also looked disgusted. Only Max had retained his usual expression of calm.

Stevie was rigidly angry. She couldn’t believe Max had let this Chloe person come along. He could have pretended it was against the rules. He could have said, “I’m sorry, I have an obligation to the riders from my own barn—who are, you know, quite fabulous riders, capable of any trail in the country, as am I.” That would have put Chloe in her place. Instead, Max was actually smiling at Chloe as though it were some sort of honor to accompany her on the ride!

Phil pulled Stevie away before she could speak. “Geez, is she a pain!” he said. “You and I might argue over who’s best, but at least we don’t think we’re better than the rest of the world.”

“I can’t believe Max is letting her come with us,” Stevie moaned.

“I’m sure he didn’t realize she’s a pain until just now,” Phil said. “But listen, it doesn’t matter to you and me. Mr. Baker is my sponsor, remember, and he can be yours, too. You can ride with us. We’ll go so fast that Chloe will have to eat our dust.”

Stevie grinned. “Don’t forget, Phil Marsten. You’re going to have to eat mine.”

C
AROLE FLIPPED UP
the side of her saddle to tighten the girth—the last step before mounting. She yawned and moved her hand to cover her mouth before tugging the girth a few holes tighter. Maybe those ghost stories really hadn’t been a good idea.

They had changed for the ride, packed their tents and gear, and tacked up their horses. The endurance ride was about to begin, and they were ready to go.

Carole led Starlight out of his stall and down the aisle to the grassy area where their tents had been. Stevie and Lisa were already there, doing a last check of their tack and equipment. Carole swung her stirrups down, checked her
girth again, and mounted. Chloe led her gray horse out to meet them.

All four girls looked at each other and stared. Lisa gawked, Stevie giggled, and Carole clapped her hand to her mouth to smother her laughter. Then Carole realized that Chloe was also trying not to laugh. She felt a little stab of annoyance.
They
all looked normal. It was
Chloe
who looked weird.

Carole was wearing riding breeches, the way she normally did. Instead of her more formal tall black riding boots, though, she’d opted today to wear ankle-high paddock boots. She thought they would be more comfortable in the long run. Lisa was wearing old breeches and what Carole recognized as her old pair of tall riding boots—Carole knew they were loose and comfortable. Stevie, as always, was wearing jeans and cowboy boots. All of them wore light jackets over their T-shirts, and fanny packs that they’d bought just for the endurance ride, to carry candy bars, drinks, and spare hoof picks in case one of the horses got a stone in its foot on the trail. And of course they were all wearing the velvet-covered protective helmets Max insisted his riders always use. Their horses were wearing their usual saddles and bridles.

Chloe looked like a rider from a science fiction movie. Stevie was grateful that she wouldn’t be riding in her
company. Carole, looking Chloe over closely, began to feel the slightest bit intrigued. Lisa thought Chloe was just embarrassing.

Chloe’s saddle was not shaped like a usual saddle. It was a weird, flat, pancake-shaped thing that didn’t even look like it was made out of leather. A plastic saddle? Her stirrups were broad and flat—similar to the Western stirrups The Saddle Club used out West—but they had little wire cages over the front of them. Carole had never seen anything like them. She guessed that the cages would prevent Chloe’s feet from going all the way through the stirrups in a fall—which could be very dangerous—but was Chloe really a bad enough rider that she worried about that? Carole knew keeping your heels down was usually all that was necessary.

Chloe’s horse’s bridle was made of plastic, too—only it was a neon-pink plastic that glowed against the horse’s white hair. It perfectly matched Chloe’s neon-pink plastic riding helmet. Chloe herself was wearing tights, a loose tunic, and a pair of sneakers. Several pieces of equipment hung from her saddle, but the only thing Carole recognized was a sponge.

“What’s that thing on your back?” Stevie asked in a strangled voice. Chloe turned to show them. She was wearing a strange-looking nylon backpack that had a little
plastic tube extending over her shoulder and around to her face. “What’s the tube for?” Stevie continued.

“It’s a water-filled backpack,” Chloe explained proudly. “I just got it for my birthday. See, I can take a sip from the tube whenever I want, without having to use my hands.”

“We’ve only got regular drinks—the kind that take at least one hand,” Lisa said. She privately felt that she’d rather go thirsty the entire ride than wear one of those things. The tube looked like something astronauts used to speak to Mission Control.

Chloe smiled. “Don’t feel bad about it,” she said. “Only really serious endurance riders have these.”

“Okay,” Stevie said, “we won’t.”

Max and Mr. Baker brought their horses out of the barn. “Hey, Chloe, you look like an expert,” Max said.

Chloe grinned, clearly pleased by his praise. “You should wait to see me on the trail before you say that,” she said. “Anybody can buy stuff—the experts know how to ride.”

Max smiled back. “Somehow I think my opinion won’t change,” he said.

Max had told Carole a zillion times, in a zillion different ways, that he thought she was a talented and conscientious rider.
So why does it bother me that he just complimented Chloe?
Carole asked herself.
If he’d said that to Lisa or Stevie, I’d be happy for them
.

“You’ll have to give us some tips on the trail,” Max continued.

“Oh, I’d be really glad to,” Chloe said.

Stevie nudged Belle closer to Starlight. “Great! Now she has Max’s official permission to brag. What was he thinking?” she whispered.

Carole shook her head. “I know what Chloe’s going to say next,” she whispered back. “ ‘It doesn’t matter to me how slow—’ ”

“Remember, I honestly don’t care how slow we go,” Chloe said. Carole rolled her eyes.

“Good,” Max said cheerfully, “because we will probably go pretty slow.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mr. Baker told him congenially. “I’m planning on
very
slow.”

Stevie saw Phil at the edge of the tent, straightening a strap on Teddy’s bridle. She watched him look up and noted the exact instant he took in Chloe’s attire. His expression changed to one of amazement and glee.

“Oh, man,” Phil said, losing control of himself entirely and laughing out loud as he brought Teddy closer. “Some people really take this stuff too seriously!” He gave another hoot of laughter. “Where’re you planning on riding, Chloe? Over the moon? ‘Hey diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle, Chloe jumped over the moon—’ ” A warning
look from Mr. Baker quelled him. “Sorry,” he said quickly, his laughter evaporating. “I mean—sorry. I know some people don’t have leather saddles and stuff.”

Lisa saw with relief that Chloe looked amused. Lisa didn’t like the girl, but she wouldn’t have wanted her feelings to be hurt, either. Lisa didn’t know what had gotten into Phil. Usually he was awfully nice.
He must still be feeling embarrassed from the reprimand Mr. Baker gave him
, she decided,
so he’s acting like he knows everything
.

“Some people don’t want leather saddles,” Chloe informed him. “See how comfortable your saddle feels at the end of the day.”

Phil grinned. “At the end of the day, I won’t be in my saddle,” he said. “By lunchtime, I’ll be sitting at the finish line, waiting for the rest of you to come in.”

Chloe shook her head. “I’d make a bet with you on that, only I don’t feel right about making such an easy bet.”

A crackle of static over the PA system interrupted Phil’s response. “Time to go!” Max said. He swung into the saddle and led them toward the start with a wave of his hand.

When they rounded the corner of the stables, Stevie couldn’t believe her eyes. She knew there were a lot of people participating, but the starting line was packed! There were at least a hundred other horses and riders all waiting to go—and, she realized with a sinking feeling,
ninety-nine of them looked like Chloe: bright rainbow-colored plastic tack, tights instead of breeches, strange saddles with lumps of equipment hanging from them. Not everyone had a water-filled backpack, but Stevie counted at least a dozen.

“Look,” Lisa said in a low voice, coming up between Carole and Stevie, “most of the horses look like Arabs.”

It was often possible to tell which breed a horse was just by looking at it. Thoroughbreds were elegant, with long legs and long backs. Quarter horses were shorter and stockier, with short backs and thicker heads. Arabian horses had one less bone in their spines than most horses, so they tended to be the shortest-backed of all, but they had long, graceful necks and dainty faces.

Carole nodded. “They may not all be registered Arabs, but they sure look like Arabs.”

“I wonder why?” Lisa said.

“Max said—” Carole began, but Chloe interrupted.

“Arabs are the perfect distance horse,” she said. “They were bred for long rides through the desert. Whitey here is an Arab with champion endurance horses on both sides. That means—”

“We know what that means,” Carole interrupted. It meant Chloe’s horse’s mother and father were both endurance horses.

“Max is riding an Arab,” Lisa said. “That’s Barq. His name means ‘lightning’ in Arabic.”

“Too cool!” Chloe shouted. “See, Whitey’s full name is White Lightning, only in Arabic. It’s on his papers. Something Barq, I never can remember. Oh, that’s cool. Max,” she said in a louder voice. “It seems our horses are twins or something. Whitey’s real name has
Barq
in it!”

Max grinned. “Too cool,” he said.

“I’m dying,” Lisa muttered. “Did those words really come out of Max’s mouth? Stevie, where are you going?”

“Up to ride with Phil,” Stevie muttered back. “Sorry to desert you guys.”

“It’s okay,” Carole told her. “If we could desert us, we would.”

“Do you think …?” Lisa asked.

“No,” Carole answered without hesitation. “Somebody has to ride with Max or Chloe will take him over. And if I have to, you have to.”