High Horse (10 page)

Betsy Cavanaugh was sitting next to him, her hair shining in the firelight.

Stevie looked back up at the stars. Tears formed in her eyes. It seemed like days since they’d left Pine Hollow for the Mountain Trail Overnight. Back then she’d thought it would be a special time for her and Phil. Now she was wondering if the two of them would ever even be friends again.

W
HEN
L
ISA WOKE
, there was a terrible racket. She rolled over in her sleeping bag and wondered why the younger kids were making so much noise at this hour. But then she realized it wasn’t a
human
racket; it was birds. She slipped out of her sleeping bag and got dressed as noiselessly as she could, but Carole opened her eyes and looked at her.

“Birds,” Lisa said. “It sounds like they’re starting a riot.”

Carole started to work her way out of her sleeping bag, but Lisa couldn’t wait. She had to see what was going on.

There were two blue jays with bright eyes picking
at crumbs around the campfire. In the dark last night Lisa hadn’t realized that Horse Wise members were such messy eaters. Another blue jay fluttered down to the spot where Amie and Jackie had been sitting. The blue jay grabbed a piece of hot-dog bun and tried to fly with it, but the bun was too heavy, so his tail flew skyward while his beak remained stuck in the bun.

The blue jay came back to earth and took small hops, banging the bun along the ground until a piece tore off, and then he flew over the hilltop with his prize.

Max came out of his tent, yawning. “Birds like a balanced diet,” Max said. “A worm, a bun. Maybe a little mustard.”

It was a perfect morning, bright and warm. At last, Carole thought, we’re going to have a really long ride.

“Everybody eat quickly,” Max said. “We’ve got a busy day ahead. Carole, you rouse the younger riders; I’ll wake the older ones.”

In twenty minutes everyone, even Veronica diAngelo, was dressed and ready to go. There was no time to have Max’s Morning Madness, including his famous Maxerino; instead they had granola bars and fruit.

After breakfast Max held a brief Horse Wise meeting. “This is going to be a great day,” he said. “But
we’ll have to ride hard if we want to meet the vans on time on Tuesday. The trail is dry in spots, but not in others. We need to know where we can canter and trot and where it’s still not safe, so we need scouts.”

He looked at Stevie. “You did so well as the fox on the mock fox hunt last fall, I’m going to make you one of the scouts.” He turned to Phil. “I’m going to make you the other scout because you know Silverado State Park. I want the two of you to ride a mile or so ahead, check the trail, see where we can make up for lost time and where it’s dangerous. We’ll wait until you come back and give us a report.”

Sounds perfect, Stevie thought bitterly. Max must have designed this day especially to torture me. Last night had been no fun sitting around the campfire listening to Phil croon to Betsy Cavanaugh, but at least she hadn’t been alone with him. Stevie opened her mouth, about to give some kind of excuse, such as that she wasn’t really awake, but one look at Max told her that he was worried. Stevie knew that he needed an exact report on trail conditions. Suddenly, being a scout for Max seemed like too important a job to let her petty differences with Phil get in the way.

Stevie and Phil saddled their horses in silence and mounted them in silence. Teddy was edgy, the way
he’d been last night. But again Phil managed to soothe him until he was calm.

They rode around the edge of the meadow to where the trail entered the wood. “How about it?” Phil asked.

“What?”

He nodded at the trail ahead, which was flat and looked dry. “Let’s trot.”

“Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

Ahead of her Teddy broke into a trot. Stevie pressed Topside with her knees, and he began to trot smoothly, head up, glad for the action. The rain had flooded away a great deal of dirt, so the rocks on the trail were loose and exposed. As they trotted, there was a shower of pebbles.

“Rocks,” Stevie called.

Phil reined in Teddy, who didn’t like it. The horse pranced and tossed his head, making a snorting, complaining sound. Phil turned in his saddle. “It’s bad ground.”

“Too many rocks,” Stevie agreed. “We might have to stop and pick the horses’ hooves every ten minutes.”

Phil got a funny look. “I guess you and Joe Novick could take care of that.” Then he turned, and at the
top of the hill, where there was another flat stretch, he put Teddy into a trot and then into a canter.

Stevie felt stunned as she gave Topside the signal to trot after Teddy. Was Phil actually jealous of Joe Novick? If so, he was completely wrong about how Stevie felt. But it certainly did explain a lot. Maybe that was why Phil had let Betsy Cavanaugh follow him around, Stevie mused.

“Hey, the thing about Joe Novick …,” Stevie called as she cantered after Phil, but he didn’t seem to want to stop and listen.

They came around a bend in the trail. There was a fine clear trail ahead under oak trees. As Phil leaned forward, Teddy cantered faster. Topside stretched his neck, lengthening his stride. Ahead Phil let Teddy go flat out, his hooves sending back plumes of dust into Topside’s and Stevie’s faces. The riders thundered alongside a blueberry patch and past a stand of skunk weed.

Then Phil slowed Teddy. There was a gravelly creek bed ahead. He guided his horse onto the mossy edge of the trail where there were no stones, and then through the clear creek water.

“The thing about Joe …,” Stevie tried again.

But Phil and Teddy were off, trotting past a gathering
of ferns and crossing a field. Phil was definitely trying to avoid her.

“All I wanted to say,” she yelled, “was—” But at this instant Teddy broke into a canter. Stevie could hear his hooves thud on the brown winter grass.

Abruptly there was a flash of white ahead. A fawn darted across the road in front of Teddy, its tail high.

Without warning Teddy reared, giving a whinny that sounded to Stevie like a scream. The horse’s front legs frantically pawed the air as the small deer disappeared into the woods as swiftly as she’d emerged. Phil’s arms were around Teddy’s neck, his knees high. Then, as Stevie watched in horror, Teddy lost his balance and fell with a thud. Phil flew off the horse and landed in the rocks beside the trail in an awkward position. Terrified, Teddy scrambled to his feet and turned and galloped past Stevie, his reins flapping.

Stevie had halted Topside when she spotted the deer. Now she jumped out of the saddle, tied Topside to a tree, and ran over to Phil. His face was pale and his eyes were closed.

“Phil? Phil? Are you okay?” There was no answer.

But when she leaned close, she could feel his breath on her ear. She told herself she had to be calm because Phil needed her. She remembered Max saying that you should never move an unconscious fallen
rider. You should wait for help. Teddy would probably gallop back to camp, where Max was waiting with the other riders, and Max would come and look for them.

Stevie knew she shouldn’t move Phil, but she couldn’t bear the sight of his head lying on the rocks. She sat next to him and gently lifted his head into her lap.

The black fabric on his helmet was torn, and under the tear she could see a dent. If Phil hadn’t been wearing a helmet, he might be dead. Tears filled Stevie’s eyes. Oh please, Max, she prayed silently, hurry!

Stevie took Phil’s hand. It was terrible to feel how limp it was. She shivered. Maybe if she talked to him, it would help somehow. “You never let me tell you about Joe,” she began softly. “I mean, I don’t care about Joe. It’s you I care about.” Stevie swallowed. “This whole trip I thought you liked Betsy Cavanaugh. Maybe you do, I don’t know. But the thing is, I like you. All week I was thinking about coming here with you.” She closed her eyes, remembering how she’d imagined taking a special bareback ride alone with Phil on the MTO. “We were going to ride bareback at dawn,” she went on. “Kind of stupid, huh? We were going to ride out in the dawn, and then we were going to—”

“Make out?”

Stevie jumped and her eyes popped open. Phil’s eyes were open, and a trace of color had returned to his face. Slowly a grin appeared on his face, and Stevie had the feeling he’d heard every word she’d said. In fact, he must have let her think he was knocked out.

He smiled at Stevie’s astonished expression.

“How …?” she started to say, but she was so filled with relief and surprise that the words wouldn’t come.

And that was fine with Phil. He reached up, put his hand behind her head and drew her down closer. Stevie closed her eyes and then …

Topside neighed.

There was a clattering of hooves and Max appeared on the trail, leading Teddy by the reins.

“No harm done, I see,” Max said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Phil sat up. “Is Teddy okay?”

“He’s fine,” Max said. “A little shook up, but okay.”

“It was a fawn,” Stevie hastily explained. “Otherwise Teddy was doing great. He wasn’t spooked at all. But then this fawn came streaking out of the woods and he reared. Phil flew off his back.”

At that Max looked concerned. He tied Teddy to a nearby tree and approached Phil. Quickly he checked Phil for injuries. “Nothing’s broken,” he said finally. “Are you up to riding?”

“No problem,” Phil said as he stood up. “In fact, you would have to hire an army to keep me off the trail today.”

Max grinned. “That’s the kind of spirit I like to see in a rider. Come on, we’ll meet the others.”

Phil got back up on Teddy. Stevie mounted Topside and they headed back, riding side by side behind Max.

Phil grinned at her. “Too bad we were rescued so soon.”

B
ACK AT CAMP
Max consulted his two scouts, Stevie and Phil, and decided that the trails were sufficiently clear and dry for all the riders to manage.

Eagerly the members of Horse Wise mounted and set out. It was a crisp, cool spring day, and the sky above the canopy of trees was bright blue. There would be no rain today.

On the trail the riders galloped alongside a rushing stream. They jumped an old stone fence. At lunch-time they ate in an old apple orchard, and at sunset they cantered across a meadow that seemed as if it would never end. Lisa noticed that this time Phil and
Stevie rode close to one another the whole time. Obviously, the two of them had patched things up.

Shortly after dinner Lisa headed for her tent. It had been a great day of riding, and now she was exhausted. She’d certainly enjoyed the mountain trail, but it would have been a lot more fun if Stevie and Carole had been more friendly. The two of them were still barely speaking to her, and Lisa didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. Maybe she’d have a chance to talk with them tonight.

Lisa undressed quickly and crawled into her sleeping bag. She had one more thing to do before she could sleep—write in her journal. She pulled out her notebook and pen and then reached into her duffel for her flashlight. Carefully she rested the light on top of her sleeping bag so she could see the journal better.

Then Lisa noticed that the pages looked slightly grubby. Lisa was always neat—it was something she couldn’t help—in her house everyone and everything was neat. When she was little, she had a gerbil, and even the gerbil was neat. She was the only kid she ever knew who had a neat gerbil.

So how come she had a slightly grubby journal?

She turned the pages. There was a crinkle on one corner. Lisa didn’t crinkle corners.

But she knew someone who did. In her mind’s eye
Lisa saw the math paper that Stevie once wrote analyzing the baby-sitting and housecleaning service she ran briefly. Every corner was crinkled.

Trying not to panic, Lisa flicked back to the part she had written about Stevie and reread her description of Stevie’s competitiveness with Phil. This was fine for Mr. Haegle to read, but not fine for Stevie. Lisa closed her eyes. Now she knew why Stevie had been so cold and aloof for the past two days. She had been hurt.

And then Lisa thought of Carole and the way she’d been acting, too. No question Carole had also read the diary. Lisa felt like a total loser. She’d hurt two of the people she loved most in the world.