Horse Fever (12 page)

“How?”

“No stirrups!”

“Huh?”

“Put in a no-stirrups phase of the competition!” Lisa explained. “You’ll whip him there for sure.”

“It’s brilliant!” Stevie cried. “Alex won’t know what hit him.” They whooped it up for several minutes. Then they resumed their brooding silence.

“If only there were some way this fitness competition could help us with Max,” Lisa mused.

“Careful,” Carole warned her. “I haven’t been working out at all.
My
abs and arms are just as wimpy as ever.”

“Ha, ha! You’re in the best
riding
shape of any of us,” Stevie replied. “In fact, your abs and arms are probably stronger from riding and lugging tack and buckets around than—”

“Now,
that’s
it!” Lisa shouted. This time she jumped up and did a little dance. “I just hope there’s time. Why oh why didn’t I think of this before?”

Carole and Stevie sat watching her. She ran out of the tack room and came back a moment later with a piece of paper. Using the stub of a pencil, she scribbled down a To Do list. “Come on,” she said, observing her friends still sitting, “we’ve got to hurry. We don’t have much light left. We’ll have to do the taping indoors. Let’s move! Let’s put this grand plan into action, girls!”

“Uh, Lis’?” said Stevie.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind, ah,
telling
Carole and me what the grand plan
is
?”

Lisa looked from one to the other of them and burst
out laughing. “Gosh, you’re demanding! The plan is this: We’re going to make a video—a fitness video, just like the abs and arms one, only for riding.”

“You mean we’ll tape ourselves?” Stevie asked, marveling at Lisa’s quick thinking.

Lisa nodded. “Yup. Doing all kinds of exercises, on the ground and on horseback. Among the three of us, we ought to be able to think up a video’s worth.”

“And we’ll show it to Max in place of a demonstration!” Stevie cried, the light dawning.

“I’ve got some great ones,” said Carole enthusiastically. “There’s the stand-up-in-your-stirrups-and-touch-your-toes, there’s the touch-the-horse’s-ears-while—-”

“No offense, Carole,” said Lisa, “but save it for the video!”

The girls flew into action. Carole borrowed Mrs. Reg’s video camera, the one that was normally used to record every second of Maxi’s day. Stevie got dressed in boots and breeches to be the first demonstrator. And Lisa tacked up old, reliable Patch, the ideal horse to use in the mounted exercises.

When they met back in the indoor ring, Carole handed the video camera to Lisa. “You can start the taping,” she said. “I just remembered something I have to do.”

Carole went to Max’s office. Mrs. Reg was inside. “Did you run out of videotape already?” she asked.

“No,” said Carole. “I was wondering if I could use the phone.”

“Of course, Carole, if it’s important.”

“It is,” Carole assured her.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” the older woman said, standing up to leave.

As Carole dialed Jenny’s number, something came back to her. With the phone to her ear, she leaned out the door. “Mrs. Reg? You know that dress you were telling me about? The one you made yourself?”

Mrs. Reg smiled. “What dress was that?” she asked innocently before disappearing down the aisle.

“I thought you said—!” Carole began. But Jenny picked up, and her sentence was left unfinished.

“Carole? Where are you? King and I have been waiting for you,” Jenny said. “I thought you were going to bring the check by today.”

“I can’t,” Carole said, her voice trembling. She took a deep breath. She knew from experience that it was better to get these awkward conversations over with as fast as possible.

“Would tomorrow work better for you?” Jenny asked.

For a moment Carole thought of King’s big floating trot, of the feeling of sitting atop all that power, energy, and grace. But then she thought of soaring over a fence on Starlight’s back. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not going to come
back at all,” Carole said hurriedly. “I’ve decided not to sell my horse. I’m sorry,” she said again.

There was a long pause at the other end of the line. Finally Jenny said, “I thought you’d made the decision to concentrate on dressage. That’s the only way to get to the top, you know.”

Carole was still trembling, only now from anger more than fear. “I could get to the top jumping, too!” she retorted. Then she got control of herself. “I like dressage, but I don’t want to give up jumping. Riding King was so great I forgot how much I love cross-country and show jumping.”

“Well, it’s your decision,” Jenny said coldly.

As soon as she hung up, Carole felt as if the sky had suddenly lightened and she could see clearly. Jenny was no friend of hers! She was just a professional rider trying to sell a horse. Maybe she wasn’t technically dishonest, but Carole didn’t like the way she did business. Why hadn’t she mentioned King’s jumping problems?

Then Carole sighed. She could have figured out that King couldn’t jump; she had, in fact, on two occasions—when he had tripped over the small fence in the ring (and she’d blamed herself) and when he had refused a jump out on the trail. The truth was she’d been so caught up in the idea of herself as a champion dressage rider that she had been blind to the horse’s faults. On the other hand, with
Starlight she was overly critical because she knew him so well. So even when Pat was complimenting her, she couldn’t hear the praise. It was that simple. Thinking of Mrs. Reg’s story about the dress, Carole giggled. How on earth, she wondered, did Mrs. Reg always know?

O
N THE LAST
Saturday of her winter vacation, Stevie jumped out of bed at 6:40
A.M
.: five minutes before her alarm went off. “I’m fit as a fiddle and feeling fine!” she hollered down the hall.

“Save it for later!” a voice yelled back.
Alex
, Stevie thought, grinning. And he sounded scared.

Clad in sweats and running shoes, Stevie trotted downstairs and wolfed a Power-Fitness bar. Her mother was in the kitchen making muffins and a big pot of coffee. “Refreshments for the spectators,” she explained.

“Spectators?” Stevie asked.

Mrs. Lake nodded. “Yes, since you invited Carole and
Lisa, I invited their parents. So you should have a good turnout.”

“Excellent! The more people to watch me whip Alex, the better!” Stevie said, though she felt a momentary attack of last-minute nerves.

A few minutes before seven, Carole drove up with Colonel Hanson, and Lisa and her parents walked over. While the parents drank coffee in the kitchen, Lisa put Stevie through her stretches and coached her on race strategy. “Let him set a fast pace if he wants to. Maybe it’ll be too fast and he’ll burn himself out.”

At seven sharp, the two contestants strode out to the top of the driveway. Lisa made them shake hands, then announced, “This is an overall fitness competition between Stevie Lake and Alex Lake. It will consist of a three-mile race, a push-up and sit-up contest, and a third phase to take place at Pine Hollow Stables.”

Alex looked surprised. “What third phase?”

“You’ll see,” Stevie replied nonchalantly.

“What are you going to do, make me jump an oxer?” Alex joked nervously.

Stevie looked her brother in the eye, unflinching. “May the best twin win,” she said.

“They’re off!” cried Stevie’s father, the official timer. The two sprinted down the driveway, as evenly matched
as could be, each one’s stride mirroring the other’s. Once they had disappeared from view, there was nothing to do but wait. Pat Naughton was stationed at an oak tree down the road that marked the turn-around point to make sure each of the Lakes tagged it. The parents went back inside, but Carole and Lisa leaned against the house, their fingers crossed for Stevie.

“So, are you sorry not to be buying the dressage horse?” Lisa asked. She could sense that Carole hadn’t shared what a big decision she had faced.

Carole shook her head. Then she confessed, “Well, maybe the tiniest bit. He was incredible on the flat. But he’ll be around. And there are other dressage horses if I ever do decide to specialize.”

Lisa nodded. “It must be hard for you in a way,” she said thoughtfully. “You’re so talented, Carole, and you’ve done so much at such a young age.… I’ll bet it’s hard sometimes to know what comes next.”

“It is—sometimes,” admitted Carole, impressed and touched that Lisa could understand her situation so well.
But of course!
she thought. Lisa must feel like that in school, with academics, where she, too, was ahead of her years. Carole was about to say something when a shout went up from the kitchen window and the adults came pouring back out of the house. Someone had seen a flash of a windbreaker. The twins were drawing near!

A moment later they heard the sound of panting. Alex’s head bobbed over the hedge, followed by Stevie’s, not ten yards behind him. “Go for it, Stevie!” Lisa screamed. “Pour it on!”

Brother and sister raced up the driveway. Stevie gained an inch, then another inch. She was grinding him down. They were neck and neck. They sprinted past the crowd. In the same moment, Alex stopped dead in front of the house and Stevie tagged it. Both doubled over, holding their sides.

“Who won, Mom?” Stevie yelled between pants.

“Yeah, tell us!” Alex cried.

Mr. and Mrs. Lake looked at one another. It was impossible to declare the winner. “What do they call this in horse racing?” asked Stevie’s mother.

“Photo finish!” Carole and Lisa yelled.

U
NFORTUNATELY FOR
S
TEVIE
, things were a bit clearer in the next phase of the competition. She held her own in sit-ups, but long after her arms had collapsed, Alex kept pumping out the push-ups. Finally Stevie snapped at her brother to stop.

“Don’t you want to see my one-handed push-ups?” he asked.

“Not till you see my two-handed throttle!” Stevie growled.

At the end of phase two, the adults dispersed and went to their cars. The Saddle Club had a quick huddle to go over their plan for the video demonstration. Stevie barely had time to change from sweats to jeans. Up in her room, she went automatically to the laundry pile in her closet, only to find an empty hamper. She smiled, remembering. All her laundry was clean because she hadn’t been riding in so long. The funny thing was, she kind of missed the pile. Her room was too
neat
without it.

P
INE
H
OLLOW WAS
abuzz. Everyone was giving their horse a special grooming for Max’s return. Pat was helping Carole with Starlight. “It’s the least I can do,” she said, wiping the bay’s coat with a rag, “after your letting me ride him so much.”

“Anytime, Pat,” Carole said happily.

“Thanks,” said Pat, “but as of next week, I’m going to have a whole lot less time for riding other people’s horses. I’ve decided to buy the mare over in Pleasantville.”

Carole thought back. “You mean the fifteen-year-old?” she asked.

“That’s the one,” said Pat, her voice full of enthusiasm. “I was worried about her age, and then I thought, ‘Pat, you’re just being silly.’ Who knows where I’ll be in three, four years, or what I’ll want to do or if I’ll even have the time to own a horse. She’s a nice mare and I liked her
from the beginning. Isn’t it funny,” she added, “how sometimes the perfect horse is right there the whole time and you don’t notice?”

“It sure is,” Carole said reflectively, running a comb through Starlight’s forelock. “It sure is.”

A
FTER BRUSHING
B
ELLE
, Prancer, and Starlight, The Saddle Club met up in the tack room. “Thanks for keeping our tack shipshape,” Lisa said to Carole.

“Yeah, it looks great,” Stevie added.

Carole frowned. “I was going to thank you guys for the same thing. I haven’t cleaned a piece of tack in two weeks!”

The girls were puzzled until Stevie suggested that maybe Red and Mrs. Reg had paid them back for all the work they had done over the years by secretly cleaning their tack.

“That must be it,” said Carole. “We’ll have to thank them.”

“Better than thanks—I made peanut butter cookies last night,” Stevie said.

“And I decided Maxi had enough gifts, so I’m giving the needlepoint I did to Mrs. Reg. She needlepoints herself, so she’ll appreciate it,” Lisa explained.

“Good,” said Carole, hoisting her tack. “Then we’re in the clear—at least with them. Max, I don’t know about.”

“You guys have nothing to worry about,” Stevie complained. “Prancer and Starlight were ridden. Belle hasn’t seen a bit since two Saturdays ago.”

“Look on the bright side,” Lisa advised her. “At least you’ll look better than Veronica, breezing in from her ski vacation.”

That thought perked Stevie up immediately.

T
HE GROUP OF
horses and riders had just started their warm-up when Max strode into the indoor ring. He called them into the center. “I’m sorry I was delayed, but I’ve been looking around the stable areas. Thank you all so much for the hard work you put in while I was gone. It’s obvious, and my mother and Red appreciated it enormously.”