Quarter Horse (3 page)

Gabriel glanced over and saw the girls. “Hi, ladies.” He smiled and tipped his hat again. “Are you here to choose horses for the rodeo?”

“We are,” said Stevie. “How about you?”

He nodded. “I can’t decide between that sorrel with the blaze and the palomino.”

“Unless you’re a mighty good rider, I wouldn’t choose the sorrel,” the other cowboy advised. “Tumbleweed’s a handful.”

“Then I’ll take Tumbleweed,” cried Stevie, flashing a triumphant grin at Gabriel.

“Are you sure you’re that good a rider, miss?” Pete Parsons frowned with concern.

“I’m sure I’m just as good as he is,” Stevie replied, nodding at Gabriel.

“Hey, whatever.” Gabriel shrugged. “I was going to choose the palomino, anyway. In a rodeo you need a horse you can depend on, not one that might go loco on you.”

“Oh, I don’t think Tumbleweed will go loco on me,” Stevie assured him as she eyed the horse’s powerfully built hindquarters. Tumbleweed looked at her and tossed his head as if he knew she was talking about him. “Maybe he would with someone less experienced, but I think I can handle him.”

Pete and the other cowboy shook their heads while Lisa and Carole just rolled their eyes. A few minutes later, they decided on horses of their own—Lisa chose a tall gray horse named Ghost, and Carole decided on Pogo, a husky black-and-white pinto mare. After that the girls hurried to the arena to sign up for the events they would ride in.

“I hope they have barrel racing,” said Lisa.

“Me too,” Carole replied. “That’s the one rodeo event we’ve done before.”

“And we know how good we are at it,” laughed Stevie.

The sign-up area was in the office under the grandstand. Various sheets of rodeo information lay on a long table. The girls studied the lists of events carefully. Everything was divided by age, and anyone between twelve and eighteen could ride in the five junior events.

“Let’s see.” Carole peered at the lists. “We’ve got barrel racing, calf roping, pole bending, goat wrestling, and a quarter-mile race.”

“And a barbecue dinner with awards for the top riders afterward,” Lisa read over her shoulder.

“And no all-girl cow chip tossing!” crowed Stevie. “Great!”

“What shall we sign up for?” Carole grabbed the pencil that was tied to the table and looked at her friends.

“Let’s sign up for everything,” suggested Stevie. “I can see the headlines now: ‘Pine Hollow Riders Sweep Clinchport Rodeo!’ ”

Carole laughed. “Come on, Stevie, that’s impossible. We can’t do all five events. In the first place, we’d spend the whole day just running around the grounds, and in the second place, no single horse could do all those events. Most cowboys ride several horses in a rodeo.”

“I guess you’re right,” Stevie agreed reluctantly.

“Let’s all do barrel racing, since we’re good at it, and then let’s each sign up for one other event, just for fun,” said Lisa. “That way we can still hang out with the pioneers some and watch the adult events.”

Stevie shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” She looked at the sign-up sheets. “I think I’ll do barrel racing and the quarter-mile race. After all, we’re riding quarter horses. That’s what they were bred to do.”

“Then I’ll take barrel racing and pole bending.” Carole laughed. “I’ve never bent a pole before. It should be fun.”

Lisa frowned. “I guess I’ll take barrel racing and goat wrestling. After wrestling with Veronica for the past week, I should be able to take care of one measly little goat.”

“Well, let me tell you that goat wrestling is a little different than leading one old milk cow across the prairie,” a voice said behind her. They turned to see Gabriel, smiling smugly, a lariat slung over his shoulder.

“What do you know about it?” Stevie said, crossing her arms. “How many goats have you wrestled?”

“Enough to know that you have to be fast and strong and not afraid to get dirty,” snapped Gabriel. “It’s a whole
lot different from old girly barrel racing. Anybody who’s smart enough to hang on a horse could do that.”

“And I guess you think we’re just that smart?” Stevie asked.

Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe. I have my doubts about the other events, though. Girls always worry that they’ll fall off and mess up their hair or tear their clothes or that they’ll hurt their horses if they make them go fast.” He snorted and shook his head. “Girls just aren’t strong enough or fast enough to do well at rodeoing.”

Stevie’s eyes flashed. “You want to bet on that?” she cried.

“Sure,” said Gabriel, his cheeks suddenly growing red. “I’ll make a bet with you. We’ll go one on one. You enter all five events on Tumbleweed and I’ll enter all five events on my palomino, Napoleon. That way we’ll find out who the better rider is once and for all.”

“Hey, that’s crazy,” said Carole. “That’s not fair to the horses. They’ll be exhausted.”

“Sure it is,” replied Gabriel. “These aren’t your pampered little English hunters. These are tough Western quarter horses.”

“But wait, you guys,” Lisa protested. “Remember we’re on this trip to have fun and re-create some history, not kill each other at a rodeo.”

Gabriel smiled at her. “Your buddy here is the one who wants to bet.” He turned back to Stevie. “Well?” he asked again. “How about it?”

“You’re on!” cried Stevie. She stuck out her hand to seal the bet. Gabriel shook it as Lisa and Carole looked on in horror.

“All five events on the same horse,” Stevie repeated. “And may the best rider win.”

“I
CAN
’
T GET
over how he thinks we’re scared we’ll mess up our hair!” Stevie fumed the next morning as she pulled on her regular blue jeans. The girls were dressing inside their wagon, and for the first time all week they were not putting on pioneer clothes but their everyday riding gear.

“Stevie, you need to calm down about this,” said Carole. “You tossed and turned all night, always muttering something about Gabriel.”

“I did not!” Stevie cried.

“Yes, you did, Stevie. I heard you.” Lisa dipped her toothbrush in their bucket of water. “Just listen to yourself right now. We haven’t even had breakfast yet and you’re already grumbling about him.”

“He is just such a jerk!” Stevie jammed her shirttail into her jeans.

“Yes, he is,” Carole agreed. “But you can’t let jerks talk you into doing things that are crazy and maybe dangerous. You’ve only been in one rodeo event in your entire life, and now you’re betting that tomorrow you’ll win everything from pole bending to goat wrestling. I wish you would just calm down and think about it a minute. You could get hurt doing all those things.”

“I know, I know,” said Stevie, raking a comb through her tousled hair. “It is crazy, but I just can’t stand the idea of that nitwit guy thinking he’s a better rider than me.”

“Stevie, he may not be better than you, but admit it— he is an awfully good rider,” Lisa said. “Remember how he jumped that horse bareback,
and
in the dark, the night of the stampede? Why don’t you go find him this morning and just tell him you’ve changed your mind?”

“I could never do that!” Stevie said. “Anyway, he just got lucky over that fence. It wasn’t all that high.”

“Okay, okay.” Lisa returned her toothbrush to her backpack. “I give up. Let’s go eat breakfast now. We can discuss what a lucky rider Gabriel is over a nice bowl of hot mush.”

A few minutes later the girls were sitting by the campfire, eating their mush. Shelly Bean had greeted them warmly as they came through the chow line, and for once Gabriel was not in sight.

“Why don’t we go for a ride after breakfast?” suggested Lisa. “We need to get to know our horses before the rodeo tomorrow.”

“Good idea,” Carole said. “It’ll be great to do some fun riding again. Nikkia’s a good horse, but he and I mostly just plugged along with the wagon train.”

Suddenly little Eileen appeared, still dressed in her pioneer outfit. “How come you’re not wearing your pioneer clothes?” she demanded, her hands on her hips. “That’s against the rules.”

“Because we’re going to be in the rodeo,” explained Stevie. “You can’t ride in a barrel race wearing a pioneer dress.”

“I’m going to tell Jeremy!” Eileen wagged her finger at them. “It’s against the rules for you not to wear pioneer clothes at all times, and it’s not fair to everybody else!” With that she turned and ran toward her own wagon, shrieking for Jeremy at the top of her lungs.

Carole shook her head as she watched Eileen run away. “That kid is unbelievable.”

“I feel kind of sorry for her,” said Lisa. “I mean, if she’s this obnoxious now, just think what she’ll be like when she grows up.”

“Ugh.” Stevie shuddered. “I don’t
even
want to think about it. Let’s go ride.”

They washed their breakfast dishes and headed toward the stable. They were just strolling down to the rodeo grounds when Stevie suddenly stopped. “Look!” She pointed to someone bent low over a horse that was thundering down one side of the track. “It’s him! He’s practicing
already! He’s racing the quarter-mile on Napoleon and it’s barely sunup!”

Carole and Lisa looked where Stevie pointed. Sure enough, Napoleon was galloping around the track, his long flaxen tail flying in the wind.

“Do you believe that?” Stevie cried, running down the hill. “He must have started practicing at dawn!” She turned to Lisa and Carole. “Come on! There’s not a moment to lose!”

The girls hurried down to the stable. Pete, the cowboy they’d met the day before, had put the horses they’d chosen in three separate stalls, so all the girls had to do was brush them and saddle them up.

“They’re down thataway.” Pete pointed to the left side of the stable. “And their gear is in the room next to the hayloft stairs. You’ll see their names above their saddles.”

“Thanks, Pete!” the girls called as they headed to their horses.

“You girls be careful.” Pete looked at Stevie and frowned. “Don’t use your spurs on Tumbleweed unless you want him to take off like a rocket.”

“I’m going to need a rocket for that quarter-mile race,” said Stevie.

Pete chuckled. “Then I think you may have gotten just what you need.”

When they reached their horses, Ghost and Pogo were
busily munching hay, and Tumbleweed had stuck his head over the stall door.

“Do you think Tumbleweed might bite or kick you, Stevie?” Lisa asked.

“I don’t care what he does to me,” Stevie said, “as long as he wins those events.”

Lisa and Carole exchanged worried frowns. Then each girl entered her horse’s stall and began to get acquainted.

Stevie opened Tumbleweed’s door quietly, looking down at the stable floor and speaking to him in a soft voice. She rubbed his nose only after she’d heard him give an inviting whinny, and then she looked up and smiled at him. His brown eyes seemed to twinkle back at her, and soon she was rubbing his back and legs, getting him accustomed to her touch.

“How are you doing, Stevie?” Carole called as she gave Pogo a good scratch behind the ears.

“I’m doing fine,” Stevie said, gingerly lifting Tumbleweed’s front hoof. “Tumbleweed seems like a real sweetheart.”

“No kicking? No biting? No foaming at the mouth?” Lisa asked as she began to comb Ghost’s silky gray mane.

“Not so far,” Stevie replied. “Like Pete said, I guess it must be a spur thing.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” someone laughed outside the stalls. “Maybe it’s a spur-of-the-moment thing!”

The girls looked out to see who was talking to them. A tall woman with bright red hair stood there. She wore
tight-fitting jeans and a bright tie-dyed T-shirt with a green sequined vest that read “San Antonio Sal” across the front.

“Sorry,” she said, grinning broadly. “I guess I couldn’t resist a pun like that.”

“It’s okay,” laughed Carole. “We’re just used to Stevie being in charge of the pun department.”

“Stevie?” The woman frowned.

“Yeah, me.” Stevie smiled. “I’m Stevie Lake. These are my friends Carole Hanson and Lisa Atwood.”

“Howdy,” the woman replied. “I’m San Antonio Sal. Y’all must be here for the rodeo.”

“We are,” said Lisa. “We’re with Wagons West.”

“That’s great,” Sal said. “I’m here for the rodeo, too.”

“Are you a rider?” Carole blinked at the wild colors of Sal’s outfit.

“Shoot, no.” Sal threw her head back and gave a deep belly laugh. “I gave up rodeoing years ago. Got too hard on my back, and also my backside. Now I’m a clown. Me and my partners, the Texarkana Twins, are supposed to work the junior events here tomorrow.”

“Really?” Lisa’s eyes grew wide. “Are the Texarkana Twins here, too?”

“Nope. They’re driving up from Donnersville tonight. My horse Sadie and I came up here early, just to check things out.” She grinned at the girls, whose horses were now saddled up and ready to go. “Are y’all going on a trail ride?”

“No,” said Stevie. “We’re going to the arena to practice. We’ve got a lot to learn and not a whole lot of time to learn it in.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you from your labors. Sadie and I may see you out in the ring a little later.”

The girls led their horses into the arena. Gabriel was gone, so they had the place to themselves. They led each horse to the middle of the big ring and carefully mounted up. Ghost turned in a little circle when Lisa mounted, but Pogo stood quietly while Carole climbed on board. Lisa and Carole waited to see what Tumbleweed and Stevie would do.