Horse Power

Horse Crazy

Horse Shy

Horse Sense

Horse Power

Trail Mates

Dude Ranch

Horse Play

Horse Show

Hoof Beat

Riding Camp

Horse Wise

Rodeo Rider

“I
T
’
S THREE WEEKS
from today exactly, right?” Stevie Lake asked, propping her chin on the palm of her hand. She was stretched out comfortably on the floor in Carole Hanson’s room. Carole was sitting cross-legged on her bed. Lisa Atwood, the third member of the trio who called themselves The Saddle Club, sat in the sunny window seat, stroking Carole’s kitten, Snowball.

“Exactly three weeks until the gymkhana,” Lisa confirmed. “In fact, the first game will probably start about four o’clock, so that’s three weeks, minus one hour and twenty-five minutes.”

Carole and Stevie laughed. “Trust you to be so precise,” Stevie teased.

“I’m not always all that precise,” Lisa said, smiling.
“Just when I’m really looking forward to something.…”

“Then you count the hours, right?” Carole asked.

“Yes, and in this case, it’s—” She paused, grinning mischievously. “Oh, golly, just about five hundred and two and a half hours, give or take five minutes.” All three girls giggled. Lisa was known for being a straight-A student, but sometimes even she had to admit she carried it to extremes.

A gymkhana was a series of games and relay races in which teams of young riders competed on horseback. This particular gymkhana was to take place at Pine Hollow Stables, where all three girls rode. Any gymkhana would be fun, but this one was certain to be especially so because Stevie, Lisa, and Carole were all planning the games together. They had been working for weeks to come up with appropriately outrageous stunts the riders would have to perform.

The three girls made an unusual trio. They agreed among themselves that the only things they really had in common were their love of horses and their friendship with one another. In fact, the Club’s only rules were that members had to be horse crazy, and willing to help other members. The Club’s first joint project had been to help Stevie with a math project. Its most recent effort had been to make up games for the gymkhana.

Carole, at twelve, was the most experienced rider of the three. She had been raised on various Marine
Corps bases where her father, a colonel, had been stationed. They had moved a lot as his assignments had changed. Until her father had bought the house where they now lived in Willow Creek, Virginia, she had usually ridden on the bases. Now she rode at Pine Hollow, owned and operated by Max Regnery, the girls’ beloved instructor.

Carole had wavy black hair, which fell softly to her shoulders. She had a gentle voice and an easy smile. Since her mother’s death the year before, a lot of things had been difficult and uncertain for Carole. But the one thing she knew for sure was that horses were very important to her. Carole was determined to ride them, train them, tend them, and own them for the rest of her life. Carole could sometimes be forgetful or disorganized, but when it came to horses, her friends thought she was the most organized person in the world.

“You know, I can’t wait for the gymkhana either,” Carole said. “But just think how great it’ll be when we’re old enough, and good enough, to ride in the
real
thing. I mean real horse shows where—”

“I’ll never get that good,” Lisa groaned. “I just can’t picture myself competing at Madison Square Garden in New York, can you?”

“You mean, can I see you or
me
?” Carole joked. “I can see me, that’s for sure. That’s my dream—at least one of my dreams,” she said. “Sometimes I try to imagine what it would be like. I read about it, too. But I
don’t think the magazine stories are anything like the real thing.”

“Make you a deal,” Stevie said to Carole. “If you get to ride in the Horse Show at Madison Square Garden, Lisa and I will be there in the audience to cheer you on. It’s a promise.” Stevie pulled herself up into a sitting position and reached across the bed to shake Carole’s hand.

Like Carole, Stevie was twelve. Although she came from a comfortably wealthy family, she didn’t dress like it. In fact, Lisa teased her sometimes, saying she didn’t know if Stevie owned anything but jeans. The first time she’d been to Stevie’s room, she’d threatened to look through her closet to check. But the closet was such a mess when she opened the door, she didn’t dare touch anything for fear of causing an avalanche!

Stevie had dark blond hair and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. She was never far from hot water—and frequently in it. She was a practical joker with a wild sense of humor and a streak of stubbornness. Stevie had three brothers—one older, one younger, and one twin. She was the only member of her family who rode horses, and she liked it that way. Riding was one thing that made her special in her family.

Lisa Atwood, at thirteen, was the oldest of the three girls, but hardly looked it. She usually wore classic styles, such as kilts and loafers, which, along with her long wavy brown hair and her sweet smile, made her appear several years younger than her friends. She was
also the newest at horseback riding, having taken it up only a few months before. Her mother, who had very firm ideas of what her daughter should do to be a proper young lady, had decided Lisa should learn something about horses because “every well-bred woman should.” Lisa hadn’t agreed at all. She’d been very frightened at the start, but she’d been more intimidated by her mother than by the horses, so she’d reluctantly agreed to lessons. Then, once she’d tried riding, she’d changed her mind and discovered that she not only liked riding, but
loved
it.

That wasn’t what her mother had had in mind at all. As Lisa learned more and more about horses and riding, she became more confident, and finally convinced her mother to let her drop painting, ballet, and the miscellaneous music lessons that made a well-bred young lady—at least for the summer. Now that it was summer, all three of the girls were in Pine Hollow’s riding-camp program, which met every weekday from nine to three. The summer was going to culminate in a three-day event for the adult riders at the stable, and a three-day gymkhana for the junior riders, including The Saddle Club members.

“You know, I can’t wait to see how the costume race goes,” Stevie said. “I hope our team gets the clown costume. It’s just one piece—”

“Yeah, with buttons down the back!” Lisa reminded her. “And anyway, what makes you think we’ll be on the same team? I’m sure Max is going to want to have riders of all ages on each team.”

“It’s not really age that will matter,” Carole said sensibly. “It’s more a matter of equal riding skills. Each team should have one very experienced rider, one moderately so, one pretty new rider, and, uh—” Carole paused, searching for the right word.

“One hopelessly new one?” Stevie said.

“Something like that,” Carole said, laughing.

“Speaking of our events, are we going to have practice tomorrow?” Lisa asked.

“I can’t,” Carole said with regret. “Dad’s got this plan to meet with an old Marine Corps buddy and his wife. They’ve got a daughter about my age and Dad is just sure we’re going to get along famously.”