English Rider (15 page)

“Good luck,” Tessa said as she gave Carole a leg up. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

“Thanks,” said Carole, Lisa, and Stevie in one voice. They knew Tessa’s luck was meant for all of them.

Max hustled by at that moment. When he saw Tessa standing there, he pointed at her. “Tessa,” he barked. “They’re looking for you at the judging stand. Move it!”

“Now I really feel like part of the Pine Hollow crew,” Tessa whispered with a giggle before scurrying off.

The others rode their horses into an open area behind the stabling tent to warm them up. Lisa paid close attention as she guided Derby around in a broad circle at a smooth canter, asking him to lengthen his strides, then to switch leads. The big, athletic horse obeyed every order instantly and eagerly, and Lisa smiled. She was ready.

Soon it was time to head to the starting line. Unlike flat racing, in which the horses break out of a starting gate, in this type of racing they simply formed a more or less straight line across the track.

Lisa moved Derby forward a few steps until she was even with Stevie and Belle on one side and a girl she recognized as a member of Cross County’s Pony Club on the other. Glancing down the line on either side of her, she saw Carole, Phil, Phil’s friend A.J., Veronica, and several other Pine Hollow riders. All of them looked eager to compete.

Max was acting as the starter for the race. He stepped forward, and Lisa stopped paying attention to everything else. Now only she and Derby mattered. She leaned forward a little and waited for Max to give the signal. There was a tense moment of silence.

“Go!” Max shouted at last, dropping his arm.

The horses surged forward. Lisa gave Derby the signal to gallop, but she held him in check for the first few strides. She didn’t want him to stumble or lose his balance, and there would be plenty of time to fight for the lead later. All around her, Lisa heard the other riders
calling encouragement to their mounts. She was aware of the racers on either side, some leaping forward, some hanging back. But she kept her eyes trained on her own horse and the course before them as she waited for Derby to find his stride.

The big gelding was confident and surefooted, and soon he was galloping strongly, his ears pitched forward. They were approaching the first jump.

Like the other riders, Lisa had walked the course earlier in the day. She had also led Derby over to give him a look at the fences. Now all Lisa had to do was guide the two of them safely over the dozen obstacles standing between them and the finish line.

She shortened her reins slightly to steady the horse, quickly judging the distance remaining to the fence. Four strides, three strides, two … On the last stride, Derby gathered himself for takeoff. He soared forward and up, leaving the ground perfectly with inches to spare between his front hooves and the top rail. For a second, Lisa was distracted by the sensation of many horses jumping the long fence on either side of her. But she snapped back to attention in time to adjust her position as Derby hit the ground running on the far side.

“Way to go, boy!” she shouted into the wind as the horse hurtled forward toward the next jump.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisa saw Tessa studying the horses going over the fifth jump. Lisa admired the way
Tessa concentrated on her job, and it made Lisa focus her own attention on the task in front of her.

By the seventh fence, Lisa had settled into the rhythm of the race well enough to start thinking about their position. There were several horses ahead of her, and she noted that Carole and Veronica were among them. Even over the noise of the thundering hooves and the cheering crowd, she could hear Stevie behind her, shouting encouragement to Belle.

Lisa hunched down a little lower over Derby’s neck. “Come on, boy,” she whispered. She knew he couldn’t possibly hear her, but she was sure that somehow he knew what she wanted him to do. “Let’s show them what you’re made of.” She urged him on even faster with all her aids, and the horse responded. At the next fence, he was even with Veronica and Danny. Starlight was only a few strides ahead.

After that, the five leaders switched positions from stride to stride. Lisa continued to talk softly to Derby as he ran with all his might. As they cleared the final fence, she let out a whoop. “Come on, Derby!” she shrieked.
“Go for it!”

The big horse found the energy to surge forward even faster. But the other racers were running their hearts out, too. As the finish line flashed by, Lisa could see that Carole had won. But she also knew that she had come in second.

“Yeee-ha!” she cried happily. She pulled Derby back to a canter, then a trot. Lisa was a perfectionist, which meant she often wasn’t content unless she was first. But in this case, she was thrilled with second place. Her new partnership with Derby had worked out better than she could ever have hoped. She patted the horse fondly on his sweaty shoulder. “You were amazing, boy,” she told him. “If Prancer were here, even
she
would be impressed!”

“I
STILL CAN
’
T BELIEVE
Veronica beat me,” Stevie groaned for about the fourteenth time. The junior hurdle had ended a little more than an hour before, and The Saddle Club, including Phil and A.J. but minus Tessa, was sitting in the grandstand waiting for the start of the scurry race, the final event of the day.

Phil rolled his eyes. “You know she must be upset about this,” he commented to Carole and Lisa with a grin. “She’s hardly said a word about beating me.”

Carole laughed. Veronica had placed third in the race, just half a step ahead of fourth-place finishers Stevie and Belle. Phil had come in sixth. “Just enjoy it,” she advised Phil. “I’m sure she’ll get around to teasing you sooner or later.”

“Probably sooner,” Phil agreed, and Stevie shot him a dirty look.

Carole leaned back against the bleacher seat behind her. “By the way, Phil,” she said. “We know you’ve been sworn to secrecy. But when exactly are we going to find
out the details of this grand scheme you and Tessa have cooked up?” Except for the opening speech, the day had passed without incident in regard to Veronica. The girls were still waiting to find out what else their friend had planned.

Phil shrugged and looked mysterious. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It won’t be long now. Not long at all.”

Just then Mrs. diAngelo’s voice blared out over the PA system, announcing that the scurry race was about to begin.

Carole sat forward eagerly, all thoughts of Veronica instantly banished from her mind. She couldn’t wait. She had been looking forward to the scurry race almost as much as she’d been looking forward to the junior hurdle. A course marked by cones and balls was already laid out for the event. A large digital clock, easily visible to the spectators, was ready to tick off the seconds it took each carriage team to complete the twisting, turning course. Mrs. diAngelo would announce the final time and faults for each team, as well as keeping the audience apprised of the standings.

“Here we go,” Stevie said as the first team entered the makeshift show ring. It was Mr. Baker from Cross County, driving a fancy-looking carriage behind a pair of palominos.

“Yo, Mr. Baker!” Phil shouted over the noise of the crowd as his riding instructor took a warm-up lap around the ring.

A.J. added a whoop of his own. “Looking good!” he cried.

Mr. Baker didn’t respond, but his wife, seated beside him, glanced up at Phil and A.J. and gave them a thumbs-up.

Mr. Baker turned in a respectable performance, knocking down only one ball and finishing well within the time allowed. He kept the palominos to a steady, fast trot, speeding up to a canter only on one long straightaway in the middle of the course and the brief distance between the final pair of cones and the finish line. The Saddle Club cheered lustily as Mrs. diAngelo announced the time and faults.

“This is fun already,” Lisa said.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Carole promised. “It gets more and more exciting as the teams try to beat each other’s scores.”

She was right. The next team, sponsored by the local fire department, was a pair of huge dappled grays pulling an antique fire wagon. The wagon and the horses appeared impossibly large for the tight turns on the course, but that didn’t stop them from equaling Mr. Baker’s faults and beating his time by almost two full seconds.

“Wow,” Lisa said, impressed, as the team trotted out of the ring to enthusiastic applause. “They were good. Did you see the way they cantered around those turns?”

A.J. nodded. “Check it out,” he said. “Here comes team number three.” He pointed to a pair of tall, elegant
black warmbloods driven by a distinguished-looking man in white tie and tails.

Carole stood up. “Come on, you guys,” she said reluctantly to Stevie and Lisa. “We’d better go bring out the ponies. We’re supposed to be number nine.” Red had promised to harness the ponies for them, but the girls wanted to be there in plenty of time to help. They said good-bye to the two boys, who weren’t competing in the scurry race, and hurried back to the harnessing area.

When they got there, Veronica was one of the first people they saw. She spotted them immediately and rushed over with a frown. “Have any of you seen Miles?” she snapped. “We’re supposed to go on in a few minutes, and I haven’t seen him in hours. He was supposed to meet me here with my costume.” She smiled at that thought. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like. He promised me it would be fabulous.”

Stevie was staring over her shoulder. She had just spotted a team approaching. It was too far away for her to see the driver’s face, but she had the funniest feeling she already knew who it was. “Um, is that him coming now?” she asked casually, pointing.

Veronica whirled around, looking relieved. But her expression soon changed to one of confusion, followed by disbelief. Finally it transformed again into a glare of pure rage.

It
was
Miles Pennington driving toward them. His team was moving briskly and smoothly, and his vehicle
was obviously in perfect condition. But the whole picture in no way resembled the dignified splendor of his grandmother’s team.

“Are those—” Lisa began slowly, hardly believing her eyes.

Carole nodded, her own gaze trained on the approaching pair. “Mules,” she finished with a nod.

The large beasts pulling the cart were indeed mules. Big mules. They each stood around sixteen hands high, with shaggy dark coats, gray muzzles, and enormous tufted ears that swiveled alertly as they trotted along in perfect harmony. They couldn’t have looked more different from Mrs. Pennington’s sleek, smooth Cleveland Bays. But the contrast between the mules’ cart and Mrs. Pennington’s elegant phaeton was even greater. Miles was seated on the high front seat of a humble wooden farm wagon. Bales of hay weighted down the long, slatted back, and painted on the sides were the words:
HAYRIDES
, 5¢. Miles himself was dressed in a red-and-white-checked shirt, faded denim overalls, and a ragged straw hat. To complete the look, a long piece of straw was clenched between his teeth, which were all showing in a broad grin.

“Howdy, everyone!” he cried playfully as he pulled his team to a halt in front of them. “Howdy, Miss Veronica. I’ve got your costume here.” He tossed her a bundle of clothes that had been sitting on the seat beside him.

Veronica jumped back as if she feared the clothes would burn her. The bundle fell to the ground, and The
Saddle Club could see that the outfit exactly matched what Miles was wearing.

Stevie was grinning so hard she feared her face would crack in two. So
this
was Tessa’s master plan! She waited to see what would happen next.

What happened next was that Veronica threw a tantrum. “I thought you said your team was a pair of valuable horses from France!” she shouted at Miles, stamping her foot angrily. She seemed to have forgotten all about The Saddle Club.

Miles shrugged. “Well, that’s two-thirds right.” He waved a hand at the mules, who were flicking their long ears curiously at the girls. “These guys are Poitevin mules, which are the offspring of a breed of workhorse called the Poitevin and a type of jackass known as Baudet de Poitou, both of which come from the Poitou region in western France. They’re really quite unusual, especially in this country. But you must have misheard me on the horse part. As you can see, they’re mules, and proud of it.”

Veronica glared at him, her face bright red. “You must think this is some kind of a joke,” she huffed. “Well, the joke’s on you. There’s no way I’m riding in that ridiculous cart. And I’m certainly not putting on these hideous clothes.” She kicked the costume.

Max walked by just in time to overhear. As soon as she spotted him, Stevie nudged her friends. They fell back slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice them watching. “Is there a problem here?” he asked Veronica.

Veronica tipped her nose into the air. “See for yourself,” she sniffed haughtily. “Can you believe Miles actually expected me to ride in that thing with him?”

Max raised one eyebrow. “I don’t know what Miles may be expecting,” he said evenly. “But I’ll tell you what I’m expecting, and that’s for you to ride as part of this team as you promised, unless you have an awfully good excuse.”

Veronica grabbed the denim overalls off the dusty ground. When she held them up, The Saddle Club could see that one knee was patched with a large appliqué sunflower. “What more excuse do I need than this?” she cried. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in this horrible outfit.”

Max glanced at his watch. “Enough, Veronica,” he snapped. “I have things to do. Now put on those clothes and get in that cart—
if
you want to ride at my stable again anytime before Christmas, that is.”

Veronica just goggled at him for a second. “You can’t be serious,” she said at last.

Max didn’t reply. He just gave her a stern look and marched off.

For a moment Veronica seemed about to rush after him. Then her shoulders slumped. She stared blankly at the overalls in her hand.

“Hurry up, Ronnie,” Miles called cheerfully. “We don’t want to hold things up.”

The Saddle Club had to rush to get ready for their turn in the ring, so they didn’t get to actually watch Veronica pull her costume over her regular riding clothes. But since
the mule team performed just before their pony team, they did get to witness her performance in the ring.