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Authors: Bonnie Bryant

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BOOK: Gold Medal Horse
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Lisa shook her head. “Drew said Nigel doesn’t really want to ride in the special division,” she said. “He was planning on riding Southwood in the regular division at Rolex, but he wanted to go slowly and carefully, to make it a learning experience for Southwood. He doesn’t want to try for the Olympics!”

“But that’s crazy!” Stevie declared.

“No, it isn’t,” Carole said. “I really understand how Nigel feels. If he rushes Southwood, he might scare him, and event horses have to be brave. Nigel could mess Southwood up if he rode him too hard.”

“And Nigel would never do that,” Lisa concluded. “You’re right. But Dorothy and Drew think that Nigel is being overly cautious. They think Southwood is ready. Drew said that Dorothy talked Nigel into riding in the special class at Rolex, but Nigel is insisting that he’s going to take it easy. He isn’t going to ride Southwood to win. He doesn’t want to push him while he’s still so young.”

The girls thought about this. “But that division will be full of people who want to be in the Olympics,” Carole said. “If Nigel takes it easy, he and Southwood won’t have a chance.”

“Exactly,” Lisa said. “So Drew says we shouldn’t expect Southwood to actually make the team. But he said that they all thought we’d enjoy the trip to Rolex. Nigel told him he needs at least one of us there to braid Southwood’s mane.” The girls smiled at one another, appreciating the joke. Nigel always braided his own horse’s mane for competition, but he hated doing it. Carole and Stevie had helped him in the fall.

“When is Rolex?” Stevie asked, sitting back down on the bed. She would need another scheme to get her parents
to let her go. Fortunately she had several good ideas that she hadn’t used yet. Maybe if she—

Lisa grinned. “In two weeks. We’ll be gone a whole week.”

“But that’s spring break!” Stevie clamped her hand over her mouth. What luck! Even though she went to a different school than Carole and Lisa, this year they all had the same spring break.

“Exactly.” Lisa smiled. “Dorothy’s going to call our parents this evening to ask if we can go, but you know they’ll let us. Why wouldn’t they?”

Stevie shook her head. “I can’t believe that Kentucky Rolex and both our spring breaks are the very same week.” She lay back on Lisa’s bed. “Coincidences like this are omens. It’s foreordained. We’re meant to go there. We’re meant to help Southwood make the Olympic team.”

“I told you,” Lisa said.

“Told us what?” Stevie asked.

Carole, grinning, answered for Lisa. “This is the best Saddle Club project ever.”

T
WO WEEKS LATER
, The Saddle Club met at Pine Hollow in the utter blackness of an early-spring morning. It was cool and damp, and even though she was dressed warmly, Carole found herself shivering with excitement. Kentucky Rolex! Southwood, Nigel, the Olympics! Carole thrilled at the thought of all the great horses, great riders, and great riding she would see.

“I wonder where Dorothy is?” Stevie asked impatiently. She checked her watch. They were waiting in the driveway, under the stable’s big spotlight, so that they would see Nigel’s horse trailer the second it arrived.

“It’s early yet,” Lisa said soothingly. She brushed a piece of her hair back behind her ear and tried to feel as relaxed as she sounded. “Gosh! When did they say they’d get here?”

“Five-thirty,” Stevie said gloomily, “and it’s already five-twenty-nine.”

“One more minute,” Lisa said brightly. Stevie sighed.

Carole jumped as a sudden thought occurred to her. “I don’t think I packed my hoof pick!” she said. She dashed into the dark stable. The others could hear her fumbling for the light switch.

Stevie and Lisa laughed. “I think Dorothy and Nigel will remember to bring hoof picks,” Lisa said. “Did Carole pack
all
her grooming gear?”

“Probably,” Stevie said. “The question is, did she pack underwear?” They laughed again. Carole never forgot anything about horses, but she was famous for being forgetful where she herself was concerned. Once she’d shown up at Pony Club still wearing her pajamas, and she never managed to remember her toothbrush no matter where she went. Both Stevie and Lisa now kept extra toothbrushes at their houses for when Carole spent the night.

Carole came back and stuffed a small metal pick into the top of her duffel bag. Lisa and Stevie peered over Carole’s shoulder. Sure enough, the bag was packed with
brushes, sponges, lead ropes, and what looked like Carole’s good halter. “Underwear?” Stevie inquired.

Carole waved her hand. “In there somewhere. I promise,” she added, catching the looks her friends gave her.

“Toothbrush?” Lisa asked.

Carole grinned. “Dorothy said she’d bring an extra one for me. I gave Starlight another hug,” she added, referring to her horse. “I hugged Belle and Prancer, too. I hope they don’t miss us too much.” Belle was Stevie’s horse, and Prancer was the lesson horse that Lisa usually rode.

“We’ve ridden them so much in the past few days, I’m sure they’ll be okay,” Lisa said.

“They’ll be okay,” Stevie said. “The question is, will we? A week without horses?”

“Without horses! What about Southwood?” Carole sounded indignant.

Stevie looked mischievous. “I hate to say this, Carole, but I think the days when you—or I or Lisa—rode Southwood are over. He’s outgrown us.”

“He’s older than we are,” Carole said. “He’s twenty-eight in horse years.”

“Is that like dog years?”

“Shorter. Four horse years in a people year.”

“Did you girls remember your raincoats?” asked a rich voice behind them.

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Reg!” Pine Hollow Stables was owned
and run by a man named Max Regnery. His mother, Mrs. Regnery, helped him manage the stables. She always looked out for the young riders, and she’d been happy for The Saddle Club when she’d learned of their trip to Kentucky.

“You’re up early,” Lisa said.

“I didn’t want to miss Dorothy. And I hope you did remember raincoats, because the last time I was at Kentucky Rolex, it poured,” Mrs. Reg said. “You’ll need them.”

“It won’t rain,” Stevie declared. “Rain and mess up our trip? I don’t think so!”

“It won’t mess up your trip, it’ll just mess up your clothes,” Mrs. Reg said. “They’ll still run the event in the rain. It’s in a lovely park, you know—Rolex is held at the Kentucky Horse Park, the only state park dedicated to horses. They built it for the 1978 Eventing World Championship.”

“When were you there?” Lisa asked her.

“After 1978, but still before any of you were old enough to sit on a pony,” Mrs. Reg said. “In my wild and well-traveled middle age. Let me know when Dorothy arrives, will you? I’m going to make her some coffee.” She went into the stable office.

“Five-thirty-four,” Stevie said despairingly, looking at her watch. “They’ll never get here.”

“I wish my spots were gone,” Lisa said. Though she was over her chicken pox, her face and arms were still marked with little not-quite-healed red scabs. Her doctor had assured her that they would go away in time. “I feel like I have zits everywhere.”

“No one will even notice,” Carole assured her. “Where we’re going, nobody knows you anyway.”

Lisa gave a start. “Oh, I forgot to tell you!” she said. She grimaced. “Drew called again last night. Remember his little brother, the one he was always telling me I was perfect for?”

“Edmund?” asked Stevie. “Wasn’t his name Edmund?” “Edwin. Edwin Gustafs.”

“That’s right. ‘Dready Eddy.’ ” Stevie recalled the nickname she’d made up when they’d first heard about Drew’s younger brother. None of The Saddle Club had ever met him.

“Well,” Lisa continued, “it’s his spring break, too, up in Maine, so he’s coming with us! He flew down to Dorothy and Nigel’s last night. Drew is thrilled—he just knows I’ll love Eddy.”

Stevie made gagging noises.

“He could be nice,” Lisa said.

“More likely, he’ll be weird. Edwin? Drew’s brother? Weird all the way,” declared Stevie.

“I know.” Lisa sighed. “ ‘Dready Eddy’ sounds about right, because I’m dreading meeting him. I like Drew fine as a friend, but I really don’t want to get fixed up with his little brother.”

“We’ll take care of you,” Carole promised. “We won’t leave you alone with him.” Lisa looked grateful.

“Five-thirty-eight,” muttered Stevie.

A battered green station wagon turned into the driveway. “That can’t be Dorothy,” Carole said.

Lisa recognized the driver. “It is! But where’s Southwood? Where’s the horse trailer?”

Dorothy parked, got out of the car, and greeted them with enthusiastic hugs. “Glad to see you!” she said. As the girls trailed Dorothy to the house where she headed to say hello to Mrs. Reg, Dorothy explained that she’d decided to pick them up separately. “We wouldn’t all fit in Nigel’s truck, and anyway, we wanted Southwood to have as short a ride as possible. Drew and Eddy decided to keep Nigel company, since I’d have the three of you with me for most of the way.”

“Great!” Lisa said enthusiastically. The longer she could avoid Eddy, the better. “I mean,” she added, seeing the puzzled look that Dorothy gave her, “great that we’ll be with you. We’ll get to see Nigel tonight.”

“And Drew and Eddy,” Dorothy said. “Eddy’s really
looking forward to meeting all of you—and Drew thinks you’ll really like him, Lisa. Nigel and I like him a lot—he’s so much like Drew!”

“Super,” Lisa said in a faint voice. She picked up her duffel bag and opened the back door of Dorothy’s car.

“Don’t worry,” Stevie said into Lisa’s ear, “we’ll keep you away from him.”

Lisa smiled. She knew she could count on her friends.

A
FTER A LONG
drive, Dorothy and The Saddle Club arrived in Lexington, Kentucky, in the late afternoon. “Not much farther now,” Dorothy assured them. Carole leaned her head against the window. They had taken turns sitting in front, and it had been her turn after they’d last stopped for gas. She was tired. She could hardly imagine how tired Dorothy must be—she’d told the girls she’d gotten up at two
A.M.

The book Carole was reading slipped from her hand. She reached between her feet to get it and picked up a piece of paper along with the book. When she turned it over, she realized that it wasn’t actually a piece of paper.

It was a photograph, of a tall, dappled gray horse and Drew.

“Dorothy?” Carole said, holding it out to her.

Dorothy glanced over. “Oh!” she said. “Drew must have left that in here by accident. Put it in the glove box, please, Carole.”

Carole quickly showed the photo to her friends and then stowed it away. “Is that one of Nigel’s horses?”

Dorothy shook her head a little sadly. “That was Drew’s horse, Prospero. Drew had to sell him several years ago, and now he can’t find any trace of him. It’s as if the horse has disappeared. Drew’s very unhappy about it.”

“That’s sad,” Carole said. She wondered why Drew would sell a horse if he didn’t want to.

She pressed her face against the cool glass. The clouds that had covered Willow Creek still hung low and thick in the sky. But here in Kentucky the fields and hills seemed even greener than they had in Virginia. The green glowed beneath the leaden sky. Carole shifted slightly. The hills were beautiful.

“I thought Kentucky was the Bluegrass State,” said Stevie’s voice from the backseat.

“They say it’s blue in the very early spring,” Dorothy replied. “I don’t know. We’re never here before Rolex.”

“It’s green now,” Carole said. They’d all enjoyed their trip west. Dorothy had asked them so many questions
about their horses and their riding that they’d hardly talked about Southwood at all. Once Carole got talking about Starlight she was hard to stop—and Lisa and Stevie had been just as enthusiastic about Prancer and Belle. They’d chatted for hours. The nice thing, Carole realized, was that Dorothy really wanted to hear about what they had been doing. Even though Dorothy had been a world-class rider, she was still a regular person, and she was a good friend. Carole knew they’d have plenty of time this week to talk about Southwood.

“Hey, look at that,” Lisa said. Carole sat up straighter and looked. Along one side of the highway, a perfect white rail fence enclosed acres of lush green pasture. Driving through Kentucky, they’d passed some magnificent Thoroughbred breeding farms, but this looked like the nicest one yet. The car crested a small hill on the highway. Set back behind miles of white fence was a group of stable buildings with beautiful rooflines and tall, elegant spires. It was the biggest, loveliest farm any of them had ever seen.

BOOK: Gold Medal Horse
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