Endurance Ride (5 page)

Chloe nodded. “He looks tough, but he’s not too heavy. He could have a little Arab in him.”

Carole sighed and nodded. Since she had gotten Starlight, different people had told her that he looked totally Thoroughbred, totally quarter horse, part Morgan, part Saddlebred, and part Tennessee walking horse. It always
seemed that people thought he was whatever breed they happened to like best. Of course Chloe would think he was Arabian. Carole didn’t think he looked anything of the sort. Still, she supposed it was meant as a compliment.

Chloe turned to Lisa. “What about your mare?” she asked. “She doesn’t look like an Arab.”

“She’s a full Thoroughbred,” Lisa said, a touch defensively. “She was raced. She was going to be good, too, but she hurt her foot.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, it was really awful for a while. See, we knew her before she got hurt, so we were really upset. No one could ride her for a long time, but she healed beautifully, and she’s fine now.” Lisa looked down at Prancer’s shining neck and delicate head and remembered the awful day at the racetrack when The Saddle Club had seen Prancer stumble, and nearly fall, in the middle of a race.

“No …,” Chloe said. “I mean, what happened to her is too bad, too. It must have been terrible. But I mean it’s too bad you decided to take a Thoroughbred on this ride. Didn’t you say she was a lesson horse? You could have ridden something like Barq.”

“I didn’t want to ride something like Barq,” Lisa said. “I love Prancer, and she’s a great horse. I ride her whenever I can. Why would it matter that she’s a Thoroughbred?”

Chloe shrugged. “Some of them don’t handle the distance well,” she said. “But I’m sure you’re right—she’ll be fine.”

“Prancer’s handled the training very well indeed,” Max said, and Lisa shot him a grateful look. She knew Max wouldn’t have let her take Prancer if he’d thought it was a bad idea—and even if he hadn’t ridden an endurance ride before, he knew a lot about horses and riding, and he’d made sure they were all prepared. He knew what Prancer could do, and so did Lisa. Chloe didn’t. Still, her words planted another seed of doubt in Lisa’s mind. What if fifty miles was too much for Prancer? Lisa urged Prancer forward and rode alongside Max. For now she’d had enough of Chloe.

They rode out of the woods and across a long, flat field. Far away they could see other riders trotting, and when Lisa looked behind her, she could see more following. It was wonderful to think of so many people all doing the same competition at once. In a horse show, people mostly competed one at a time.

Lisa pointed. “Do you think those trees mean the river?” she asked.

“I’d say so,” Max answered. “See how they curve along the field? They look like they’re growing along a riverbank. Plus, the river’s on the map, and we should be coming to it
about now.” Lisa nodded. She remembered the map. She felt a little excited. She’d crossed streams a hundred times, but never a full-scale river.

“That’s the river?” Chloe sounded nervous.

“Don’t worry,” Max said. “It won’t be deep, and I’m sure they’ve made the crossing safe.”

“I’m not worried,” Chloe said, sounding cross. “It’s just that Whitey doesn’t like rivers this early. Any time we come to one in the first twenty miles, he kicks up a fuss.”

“After that he doesn’t care?” Carole asked.

“I know it sounds strange, but it’s true,” Chloe said. “It’s the only thing he’s bad about.”

Lisa cheered up a bit. So darling Whitey wasn’t perfect after all.

Sure enough, when they reached the gentle slope of land that led into a lazy, softly flowing river, Whitey refused to move forward. Chloe urged him on, patiently but firmly. Whitey snorted and trembled and attempted to whirl.

“Maybe you could lead him across,” Carole suggested.

Max shook his head. “The water’s too deep. Just take your time, Chloe. We’re in no hurry.”

“It could take hours,” Chloe said with a short, exasperated laugh. “I was afraid he’d be like this.”

Long ago Prancer had been wary of water, too, but she’d overcome her fear as she had grown to trust Lisa. Now she
looked at the river with interest, and Lisa had an idea. “Let me give you a lead, Chloe,” she said sweetly. “Have Whitey follow right on Prancer’s tail, and Carole, you come right behind him.” Often horses could be persuaded to do something in a group that they wouldn’t do on their own. Like peer pressure, Lisa thought with a giggle.

Sure enough, Prancer splashed through the girth-deep water, and Whitey not quite as happily followed. “There!” Lisa said, once they’d reached the opposite bank. She turned in the saddle to give Chloe a smug smile. She guessed Thoroughbreds were of some use after all.

Just then Prancer stumbled. The riverbank was muddy and deep, and for a moment Prancer seemed to get one foot stuck in the mud. She staggered and regained her balance. Lisa, caught unaware, felt herself falling over Prancer’s shoulder, but she grabbed Prancer’s mane and held on. Prancer took a few steps forward, then limped.

“Oh no!” Right away Lisa knew what had happened. She motioned for the others to ride past her; then she dismounted into the squelchy mud. She pulled Prancer’s foot up with her hands. She was right. The deep mud had acted like a suction cup, pulling Prancer’s shoe right off her foot.

“Did you lose a shoe?” Max asked.

“Yes. Here it is.” Lisa reached down and gingerly fished
it from the mud. The nails that held it on to Prancer’s foot were twisted out of shape, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they hadn’t been. Only a farrier could put the shoe back on the horse.

Lisa leaned against Prancer’s shoulder in despair. What could she do now? “Max,” Lisa wailed, “Prancer’s already started limping. She’ll never be able to do this with a shoe missing.” Some horses had tough hooves and never needed shoes. Prancer was just the opposite—she depended on them. Without a shoe to protect her foot from the rocks on the trail, Prancer would be in pain.

Max looked worried. “I don’t know. We’re right in between the start and the first check,” he said. “So I guess it’s best to go on. They’ll have a farrier there who can nail the shoe back.”

Chloe dismounted and handed Max her reins. “Let me see,” she said to Lisa. Lisa moved over, and Chloe inspected Prancer’s foot. “Look—the shoe came off cleanly,” she said. “She didn’t damage her hoof at all.”

Lisa nodded. “I already saw that. But she’s got such tender feet—”

Chloe smiled smugly and dropped Prancer’s foot back to the ground. “Most Thoroughbreds have tender feet, don’t they? And that can really be a problem on an endurance ride.”

Lisa gritted her teeth. She wanted to hit Chloe.

“Lucky for you, she’s got a pretty average-sized hoof,” Chloe said. She walked over to Whitey. Lisa gave Carole a mystified glance. Just how did darling Chloe think she was going to fix this? Lisa very much doubted that Chloe had extra horseshoe nails, an anvil, and a fully trained farrier hanging from her saddle.

Chloe opened one of her odd-looking bags and pulled a strange black rubber object out of it.

“Aha!” Max said with a grin. “Chloe saves the day!”

“What’s that?” Carole asked, leaning forward in the saddle to look.

“It’s an Easy Boot,” Chloe explained. While Lisa stared in amazement, Chloe pulled it over Prancer’s bare foot and fastened it tightly. “It’s temporary, but it should hold her until the vet check.”

“Th-Thanks,” Lisa stammered. She’d never even heard of Easy Boots before, but she was incredibly grateful that Chloe had brought one along. If the strange-looking thing worked, it would save Prancer’s foot and let them all continue the ride. But
ugh
, Lisa hated to be grateful to Chloe!

S
TEVIE SAW THE
flags for the first vet check just ahead of them on the trail and sighed with relief. She needed a break. “Here we go, Belle,” she murmured as they trotted steadily along. “Fresh water. A quick bath for you. Hay.”

“Hay!” Beside Stevie, Phil let out a sound that was half groan, half laugh. “I know I’m starving, Stevie, because when you said ‘hay,’ I actually thought,
That sounds good—a nice flake of hay!
”

“Grass or alfalfa?” Stevie inquired.

“Oh, I’m not picky. Whatever they’ve got the most of.”

Stevie laughed and Mr. Baker smiled. “For the last three
miles,” he said, “I’ve been wishing I wasn’t such a coffee drinker.”

Stevie understood. “It’s gotten much too hot for coffee, hasn’t it?” she said. Sweat kept sliding from under her dark helmet, through her hair, and down her neck. It was driving her crazy. She remembered that Chloe’s strange-looking helmet had vents in it, and now she understood why. “Don’t worry,” she told Mr. Baker, “Mrs. Reg and Deborah said they’d bring some nice, cold sodas. I’m sure they’ll let you have one of those.” Mrs. Reg, Max’s mother, helped him run the stable. Deborah was Max’s wife.

The sound Mr. Baker made was definitely a groan.

Stevie was too proud to say it, but she already felt tired. English-style riders rose and fell with the motion of their horses’ trot. It was called posting. Usually posting felt as natural and effortless as breathing to Stevie, but now, nineteen miles into the endurance ride, she was beginning to realize all sorts of things about posting she’d never noticed before. Her knees were stiff and her ankles were sore. Worse, she realized they had thirty-one miles to go.

“Let’s walk,” she suggested. “We’re almost to the check. Let’s start their cool-down now.” The horses would be given a chance to get their breath back, and then they would be carefully examined by veterinarians and officials. Only those passed by the vet could continue the ride.

“Great idea,” Phil said thankfully, sitting back in the saddle. Teddy dropped to a walk. His sides were moving in and out, which meant he was breathing harder than normal. Belle and Dominic were, too. The ride was hard—but not, Stevie reminded herself, harder than the training rides had been.

At the check there was a line of horses waiting. Stevie dropped to the ground and hugged Belle’s sweaty neck. She was already so sweaty herself that it made no difference.

“Hi, Stevie!” A cluster of little girls surrounded her.

“Pony Tails!” she said. The Pony Tails, May, Jasmine, and Corey, were three younger riders from Pine Hollow. Like The Saddle Club, they’d formed a club based on their love of ponies.

“We came with Mrs. Reg and Deborah,” Corey said. “We wanted to help out.”

“Great,” Stevie said. “Do you have water? Let’s start by sponging Belle down.” Stevie began to rinse cool water over Belle’s shoulders and legs, and the little girls did the same. Deborah appeared with a bale of hay, which she set before Belle, and Mrs. Reg, to Stevie’s unutterable relief, put a can of cold soda in her hand.

Almost all the riders had support crews meeting them at the checks. Stevie saw that Mr. Baker’s wife was helping
him, and Phil’s friends A.J. and Bart were taking care of Teddy.

“We thought you’d be with Lisa and Carole and Max,” May said. “We thought we’d be helping all of you at once.” She pointed to the six buckets of water they had ready.

Stevie explained that she’d wanted to ride with Phil. She didn’t say anything about Chloe. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sound polite—and besides, Chloe wasn’t her problem anymore. Stevie knew this wasn’t entirely fair to Carole and Lisa, but she also knew that if they could have gotten away from Chloe, they would have.

“They must be a lot farther behind you,” Jasmine observed. “We thought you’d be all together.”

Stevie shrugged. She didn’t think they’d gone particularly quickly or particularly slowly. Phil had urged them on, but Teddy’s natural trot was slower than Belle’s, so Stevie had never felt like she was hurrying. Of course, Stevie had no way of knowing how fast her friends were riding.

“I’m sure they’re not far behind,” she said. For a moment she wished they were all together.
Too bad Chloe had to ruin everything
—though even Stevie didn’t blame her for asking Max for a sponsorship. It would be rotten to come all the way to a ride and not go. What Stevie blamed Chloe for was her annoying know-everything personality. That,
Stevie decided, was what was really keeping her away from her friends. She felt a rush of sympathy for Carole and Lisa, wherever they were. She was sure Chloe wouldn’t improve over time.

Stevie’s turn at the vet came quickly. The vet examined Belle, listened to her heart rate, and then made Stevie trot her down to a marker and back. She measured how quickly Belle’s heart rate dropped afterward.

“She looks marvelous,” the vet said with a grin. “You pass. Have fun.”

Stevie grinned. She hadn’t realized until a feeling of relief swept over her that she was actually worried about the check. Of course Belle would be fine! Stevie was thrilled to hear it, all the same.

The vet moved on to Mr. Baker’s horse. As she got ready to ride again, Stevie couldn’t believe the check had gone by so quickly. Jasmine pressed an orange into her hands, and Mrs. Reg stopped to pat Belle’s shoulder. “She’s a credit to your hard work, Stevie,” she said.

Stevie glowed. Mrs. Reg had given her a compliment! That rarely happened.