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Authors: Bonnie Bryant

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BOOK: Gold Medal Rider
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“We like to help,” Lisa told him. He was so awkward that she felt sorry for him.

“Drew, your sudden helpers are our guests for the weekend,” Dorothy explained. “Girls, this is Drew Gustafs, our fantastic groom and Southwood’s best friend. Drew, this is The Saddle Club—Kate, Carole, Stevie, and Lisa.”

Drew looked skinnier close up than he had from farther away. He had a mop of wiry mouse-brown hair that stood out from his head. One of his eyebrows was higher than the other, and he had a tiny scar on the corner of his mouth. His eyes were kind, and even though he seemed shy he had a nice smile. “Thanks,” he said again, with a duck of his head. “I better get Southwood cooled out.” He clucked to the horse and led him out of the barn.

“He seems more comfortable with the horse than with people,” Kate remarked as they watched him go.

Dorothy chuckled. “I think he is.”

“What’s wrong with Southwood?” Carole repeated.

Nigel massaged his forehead. “He’s fine,” he said. “The problem is that Beatrice expects too much from him. He’s a tremendously talented horse, but he’s very young and he’s just now qualified for the advanced level. Beatrice wants him to do as much as possible as quickly as possible. Above all, she wants him to win. I think she should slow down. Southwood has plenty of time. If she makes him compete in difficult events before he’s entirely ready, she could end up scaring him or even hurting him. If they have an accident it’ll take a long time for him to regain his confidence. By going too fast, Beatrice could slow him down in the long run.”

“Beatrice and Nigel both think Southwood can go all the way,” Dorothy explained. “They just have different ideas about how to get him there.”

The girls looked at one another. “I’ll ask,” Lisa said finally. “What do you mean by ‘all the way’?”

“What do you think, Kate?” Nigel asked. “I bet you know what we mean.”

“The Olympic Games,” Kate said. She shrugged and smiled. “What else?”

“Wow,” Stevie said. “Really? Southwood in the Olympics? That’ll be so cool!”

Carole looked stunned. “I rode an Olympic horse?” she asked.

Nigel held up his hands. “Hold on,” he said, laughing. “Not yet, you didn’t. It’s a very long road to the Olympics,
and there are a lot of horses trying to get there. We’ll see how Southwood does.”

“If you want him to make the Olympic team, you’d better start pushing him,” Kate said. “It’s a long way from one advanced horse trials to an Olympic event course.” The rest of The Saddle Club was a bit surprised at the edge in Kate’s voice.

“No,” Nigel explained. “We’re not trying for next summer’s games. Beatrice is aiming for the Olympics four and a half years from now. She really does have plenty of time. She’s not going to gain anything by risking Southwood’s confidence, not this early.

“There’s no point in moving Southwood to advanced level now,” Nigel continued. He rubbed his hands together and his voice rose. “This weekend isn’t a three-day event—there’s no steeplechase, and it’s held over two days, so it’s called a horse trials. It isn’t that big of a deal. There won’t be another competition until February, and all the important ones are even later than that. I think Beatrice should skip this event and let Southwood relax a little.”

Nigel sighed. He watched Dorothy check a horse and carefully latch the stall door when she was done. “Obviously, Beatrice disagrees with me,” he said. “But she can’t ride in the trials because she’s leaving for the Virgin Islands tomorrow afternoon. Her brother is getting married in Saint Croix on Sunday. That’s why she told me to ride him.”

“So why did you say yes?” Stevie asked. “I mean, you think it’s wrong. Beatrice can’t make you ride. She won’t even be here.”

Dorothy turned off the stable lights, and they stepped outside into the cool night air. Moonlight shone through the pine trees. As they all walked toward the little house, Dorothy reached for Nigel’s hand.

“It’s a hard thing, Stevie,” Nigel said. “But you see, Southwood is a very fine horse. And if I don’t ride him, Beatrice will find another trainer who will. She might find another trainer permanently.”

The girls understood. Max Regnery, the owner of Pine Hollow, had to take nonsense from some of the people who rode with him, too. The name Veronica diAngelo sprang instantly to mind. She was also a spoiled brat who refused to take care of her own horse. Max needed her business, so he put up with her. Undoubtedly Nigel had to do the same.

“Southwood looked so good,” Carole said soothingly. “I’m sure he’s more than ready. Don’t you think so, Kate?”

Kate shrugged. “Hard to say,” she replied. “Events aren’t won in the dressage ring. Lots of horses are good at dressage, but the cross-country phase counts the most. It all depends on how well Southwood jumps.”

Nigel laughed and gave Kate a soft clout on the head. “He jumps better than he does dressage,” he told her.

Kate smiled. “Then he’ll do fine.”

T
HAT
NIGHT
C
AROLE
was unable to sleep. All around her on the floor of Dorothy and Nigel’s living room, her friends lay in their sleeping bags, fast asleep; but Carole stared out the window at nothing, too keyed up to close her eyes. This trip was so exciting! She loved spending time around professional riders. And the idea that Southwood might someday go to the Olympics gave her a thrill, even though it wouldn’t happen for another four and a half years.

Carole sighed and rolled onto her side. Her eyelids fluttered, just for a second. When she opened them the room was lighter. The sky outside the window looked navy blue. Carole reached for her watch—six
A.M
.! She must have fallen asleep after all.

A light was on in the kitchen. Carole wiggled out of her sleeping bag, wrapped it around her shoulders, and went to investigate. There was a pot of hot coffee on the stove and the light above the sink was on, but the room was empty and the house was quiet. A big box of doughnuts and a carton of orange juice sat on the table. There was a note next to them: “Girls—See you at the stable. D.”

Carole set the note down and looked out the window. Dorothy wasn’t kidding—they were already up! The lights were on in the stable, and Beatrice’s sports car was parked next to Nigel’s big truck.

Carole hurried back to the living room, stumbling over the ends of her sleeping bag. “Stevie!” she hissed, shaking her friend by the shoulder.

“Mhmph?” Stevie mumbled, burying her head in her pillow.

Lisa sat up. “What is it?” she asked.

“Time to get up. We’re late!”

Kate sat up and without a word began to pull on her breeches. Lisa did the same. Stevie rolled over. “How can we be late this early?” she wailed, but she, too, began to get dressed.

In a few minutes they were hurrying across the yard to the stable. Stevie tucked her camera into her jacket pocket.

“Beatrice is here already?” Stevie whispered, looking at
Beatrice’s car. As she spoke, Drew came out of the stable, leading Southwood, who was groomed and saddled. Beatrice followed, pulling on a pair of riding gloves. She settled her helmet over her hair, accepted Southwood’s reins from Drew, and vaulted into the saddle. With a cool nod to The Saddle Club, she headed Southwood down the road.

“Good morning, Drew,” Kate said.

“G-G-Good morning,” Drew stammered. Stevie pulled her camera out and snapped his picture, with the barn in the background. “What’d you do that for?” Drew asked. He blushed and seemed as nervous as he had the night before.

“Sorry,” Stevie said cheerfully. “I want lots of photos to remember this trip. Remind me to take some of Southwood when Beatrice comes back.”

“He’s better-looking than I am,” Drew said.

“But I’d much rather have pictures of you than of Beatrice,” Stevie replied. Drew blushed again.

“We thought Beatrice was going to the Virgin Islands today,” Carole said. “Why is she riding now?”

“She’s not leaving until later,” he explained. “She’s just taking Southwood out for a hack. She doesn’t want to do too much with him today, since he’s competing tomorrow.”

“That’s what I mean,” Carole said. “Why ride him at all? He’s going to get a big workout tomorrow.”

“Oh, Carole,” Kate cut in before Drew could answer. “Event horses have to be in really good shape. When they’re in competition form, they have to be ridden almost every single day.”

“I’ve never seen a horse in such good shape as Southwood,” Carole objected. She wasn’t trying to argue with her, but surely Kate could see how strong and fit Southwood looked. Carole probably rode Starlight five days out of every week, and Starlight didn’t look nearly as well-muscled as Southwood.

“He’s in good shape, but he has to stay that way,” Kate said. “He’s an athlete, just like Nigel.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Carole agreed.

Dorothy came out of the stable. “Good morning!” she said cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?”

“Too well,” Lisa said. “We’re sorry we’re late.”

Dorothy checked her watch and laughed. “It’s six-fifteen,” she said. “Normal people are not awake at this hour. You aren’t late—you’re just later than us.”

“What can we help you do?” Lisa asked as they followed Dorothy and Drew into the barn. “I wore my muck boots. We could start by cleaning stalls.”

Nigel was in the center aisle, grooming a big liver chestnut horse. He grinned at the girls. “Good morning,” he called. “I certainly hope you’re ready to work.”

“As a matter of fact,” Dorothy said, “we really do need
your help. We’ll all be leaving for the show this afternoon, and we have a lot of things to do before then. Would you do us a special favor?”

“Sure,” Stevie said instantly, while the others nodded.

Dorothy grinned at her husband. “I really hope we’re not asking too much,” she said.

“Give it a try,” Nigel said. “You know these girls—they’ll do anything to be around horses.”

Stevie groaned. “Don’t tell me. You need the manure pile moved.”

Nigel shook his head. “Worse than that, I’m afraid.”

Carole grimaced. “I don’t know what could be—I mean, whatever it is, we’ll do it for you.”

“Well …” Dorothy hesitated, then finally said, “Would you mind exercising some horses for us this morning?”

Everyone burst out laughing. “Nigel, you really had us going for a moment there,” Kate said. “I was thinking the same thing Carole was—what could be worse than moving a manure pile?”

“When I find out, I’ll let you know,” Nigel promised.

Dorothy took down a clipboard hanging on the wall and consulted it. The girls could see that it was some sort of organizational chart for the horses in the barn. “Lisa, I’m going to give you Panama Red,” she said. “He’s in the third stall on the left. He’s an older guy, but he’s a good one, and
I think you’ll like him. His owner runs a boutique in New Jersey. She rides with us in the summer and comes down here once or twice in the spring.”

Lisa went to meet Panama Red. “He looks like a Thoroughbred,” she said, patting the neck of the handsome chestnut horse.

“He should, since he is one,” Dorothy replied. “Most of our horses are. Other breeds make good event horses, too, but Thoroughbreds are the best. They have terrific stamina—they can run all day long.

“Let’s see.” Dorothy consulted her list again. “Stevie, I’ve got the perfect horse for you. His name is Steve. Second stall on the left, next to Panama.”

Stevie laughed. “Hello, Steve,” she said. Steve looked at her and blinked.

“His registered name is Stevedore,” Dorothy said. “Nigel shortened it.”

Carole got a horse named Warrior. Nigel brought saddles and bridles out to them. He explained that Steve and Warrior were both for sale. “They’re good, solid horses,” he said. “Very well trained, and they’ve both done preliminary three-day events. But they don’t have the jumping ability to move any higher. They’ll be great horses for a rider who just wants to have fun.”

Kate stood waiting for her horse. “Nigel?” Dorothy called her husband over and pointed to a name on the clipboard. Nigel pressed his lips together, thinking.

“If she wants to,” he said. “She’s good enough to ride him.”

“What do you think, Kate?” Dorothy asked. “Are you in the mood for a challenge?”

Kate’s face lit up. “Sure!” she said.

Dorothy smiled. “Come meet Giacomo,” she said. “He’s one of our very young horses, and we think he has enormous potential. Right now, however, he’s nervous and excitable. What you should do is try to get him to relax and enjoy himself.” She took Kate down the aisle to meet a tall, slender chestnut horse with an enormous white blaze and wild, rolling eyes. Lisa, watching, knew that the very thought of riding Giacomo would make her nervous.

“Hey, buddy,” Kate said cheerfully, patting Giacomo’s neck. Lisa envied Kate her confidence.

“Who are you riding, Nigel?” Stevie asked.

Nigel snorted. “Giacomo’s twin sister—at least as far as personality goes. Her name is Santori.”

When they had all brought their horses outside and were ready to mount, the girls could see that Nigel’s horse was not really Giacomo’s twin in any way except personality. Santori was a small, stout, square-built black mare without a speck of white on her. She shared Giacomo’s habit of shying violently whenever something surprised her. “Birds of a feather,” Nigel said gaily when a gust of wind caused both Giacomo and Santori to jump sideways a foot.

BOOK: Gold Medal Rider
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