Quarter Horse (5 page)

“Why?” Stevie looked puzzled.

“Because you haven’t been this competitive in a long time, and it seems to be taking over every moment of your life. You’re bragging about things that aren’t true, and you’re not even enjoying our trip anymore because of this competition.” Carole shook her head. “Plus, who knows what a jerk like Gabriel might make you do if he wins the bet?”

“Yeah,” agreed Lisa. “It might be something really humiliating!”

“But you two are assuming he’s going to win,” Stevie replied. “He’s not. I am. Don’t worry about what he might make me do. Help me think up some appropriately disgusting thing I can make him do!”

“I don’t know, Stevie.” Carole frowned. “He’s had a lot more experience at these rodeo events than you.”

“Yoo-hoo! Girls!” Another voice rang out. “I’ve been looking all over the place for you three!”

The girls turned again. San Antonio Sal was hurrying up to their spot beneath the tree, clutching a sheet of white paper.

“I’m so glad I found you!” she said breathlessly. “I’ve got a real emergency on my hands!”

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked quickly.

Sal waved the sheet of paper at the girls. “This is a
message the lady down at the rodeo office took for me. The Texarkana Twins just called from Donnersville. They ate a whole mess of bad catfish last night and came down with food poisoning. They’re not going to be able to make the rodeo!”

“Oh no!” cried Carole. “We really wanted to meet them.”

“Well, that’s not the worst part. All sanctioned rodeo events must have a team of three clowns. I’ve called every clown within two hundred miles and they’re all booked for bigger rodeos. If I can’t find two replacements by tomorrow, the junior events will have to be canceled!”

“That’s terrible!” Lisa exclaimed.

“Well, that’s where I was wondering if maybe you girls could help me out. I’ve seen how well all three of you ride, and you seem to have a lot of good old-fashioned cow sense about you. Would you be willing to take over the Texarkana Twins’ part of the act? I could show you the routines and teach you how to do the makeup. Plus, we’ll be working the junior events, so you won’t be contending with any wild broncs or bulls.” Sal smiled hopefully. “Course, it will mean you won’t be able to compete, since you’ll be working the whole time.”

“Count me in!” cried Carole. “I can ride in a junior rodeo some other time, but I’ll probably never get the chance to be a rodeo clown again!”

“Me too,” said Lisa. “Especially if without us, the junior events will be canceled.”

Everyone looked at Stevie, waiting for her to join them. “I don’t know,” she finally mumbled, frowning.

“Stevie, how can you not say yes?” Lisa asked. “It’s what The Saddle Club is supposed to do! Help out at all times!”

“I know,” said Stevie. “And if you and Carole weren’t here I’d certainly do it. But since you two are here and you’re such good riders, you really don’t need me.” She took a deep breath and looked at San Antonio Sal. “I hope you’ll understand, but I’d rather compete in the events this time. I know Carole and Lisa will do a great job helping you out.”

Carole’s and Lisa’s faces fell, but San Antonio Sal gave Stevie a big wink.

“That’s okay, Stevie. I understand. I think you’ve got something to prove tomorrow, and with the help of your friends here, you’ll still have the opportunity to prove it.”

Sal turned to Carole and Lisa. “Okay, girls. My trailer’s parked beneath the west grandstand. After you finish your lunch, come on down there and we’ll get to work. By tomorrow afternoon you two will be real live rodeo clowns!”

“W
HY
,
HELLO THERE
, Stevie,” Pete Parsons called as Stevie walked into the cool dimness of the Rocking S stable. “I thought you were done riding for the day.”

She looked around. Pete sat on a bale of hay, twirling a small lasso in a crazy-looking circle.

Stevie smiled and shook her head. “No, Pete, I’m nowhere near done for the day. In fact, I think I probably should have skipped lunch and just stayed on Tumbleweed.”

Pete effortlessly spun the lasso out in a wide figure eight. “How so? Did you get so tired of driving that old Conestoga wagon that now you’re hankering to spend all day in the saddle?”

“No. It’s a lot more serious than that.”

“What do you mean?” Pete quit spinning the rope and looked at her.

Stevie told him the story of Gabriel and his superior attitude and how he thought he was a much better rider than she was and how they had a bet going to settle it once and for all.

“You know, I wondered if that boy wasn’t acting a little too big for his britches when he first came in here.” Pete frowned and stroked his thick black mustache. “But I watched you on Tumbleweed. You’re a good enough rider to beat him.”

“I know I can beat him in the quarter-mile race and the barrel racing,” said Stevie. “But I have my doubts about those other events.”

“Oh, you’re probably just a little rusty. It’ll all come back to you when the chutes open.”

Stevie shook her head. “No, Pete, you don’t understand. I only learned how to pole bend this morning, and I’ve never roped a calf in a rodeo or wrestled a goat in my life!”

Pete’s brown eyes widened. “You’ve never roped any calves? Nor wrestled one goat in your entire life?” He moved the piece of straw he was chewing from one corner of his mouth to the other and frowned at Stevie.

“I’ve never roped in a competition, and I haven’t done any roping at all in a while,” Stevie answered honestly.

“Well,” he said, gathering up his rope and unfolding
himself from the bale of hay, “that’s a horse of a different color. I guess we’d better get busy. You need some emergency rodeo training, and you need it pronto!”

“W
OW
!” C
AROLE BREATHED
as she and Lisa stepped inside San Antonio Sal’s trailer. “This is the most fabulous place I’ve ever seen!”

The girls looked around the small, colorful room. Every inch was covered with clown equipment. The floor was lined with all sorts of purple and green wigs on stands, and boxes overflowed with polka-dot parasols, water-squirting flowers, and rubber chickens. A large, brightly lit mirror hung on one wall between two clothes racks, where baggy, oversized pants dangled next to sequined vests and crazy tie-dyed blouses.

Lisa blinked at the bright, glittery colors. “I’ve never seen so many spangles and sparkles and sequins in my life!”

“Well, it ain’t much, but it’s home.” San Antonio Sal chuckled. “Y’all sit down here and we’ll get to work.”

The girls sat down in front of the mirror. Sal pulled out one huge makeup kit full of greasepaint and charcoal pencils, then another one with fake noses and floppy false ears and fuzzy stick-on eyebrows.

“Let’s invent your personalities first,” she said, uncapping a tube of clear face cream. “Then you’ll know what kind of clown to be.”

“What do you mean?” Carole asked.

“Well, if you draw on a sad face, then your clown moves are going to be slower and your body language will be more droopy.” Sal squirted out some cream for Lisa. “If you put on a goofy face, then you’ll clown in a looser, less controlled way.”

“Oh, I think I’ll be goofy,” giggled Lisa, rubbing the cream onto her face. “I’d never get the chance to do that at home.”

“What if you just want to be happy?” Carole asked Sal.

“Happy’s probably the best face to put on,” Sal said. “That way you can be anything—mad, sad, goofy—according to what goes on in the ring.”

“What are you?” asked Lisa.

“I’m always happy,” answered Sal. “Texarkana Cindy’s usually goofy, while Texarkana Ruth’s usually mad. It works out pretty well for us in the ring.”

“Wow.” Lisa looked at all the tubes of greasepaint scattered in front of Sal’s mirror. “There are so many possibilities.”

Sal laughed. “That’s what makes clowning such a wonderful life. Every day you can be somebody different, and every day you get to make people laugh. Sometimes you even get to save a cowboy’s life.” She rummaged through a drawer under the table and pulled out a book. “Here’s an album of clown face designs. Look through there and maybe you can get some ideas.”

Carole giggled as she and Lisa turned the pages of the
clown book. “I wonder if Stevie’s having this much fun,” she whispered.

“T
WIRL
,
TWIRL
,
TWIRL
,
TWIRL
, throw!” Stevie said to herself as she swung the lasso. She was practicing her cattle roping at a target Pete had rigged up for her—a plastic calf’s head stuck in a bale of hay. She swung the lasso one final time, then let it go. The loop soared through the air, only to fall harmlessly to the ground a foot away from the plastic head.

“Darn!” she said, dismounting for the twentieth time. “This isn’t working and I’m doing everything just like I’m supposed to!”

Disgustedly she re-coiled the lasso and walked back to Tumbleweed. There was a sympathetic look in the horse’s eyes, as if he wished he could do something to help her. She rubbed his neck. “Maybe we should take a break,” she said. “My right arm feels like it’s on fire from all this roping.”

She grabbed Tumbleweed’s reins and led him to a tall cottonwood tree that grew at one end of the corral. For the past three hours she had practiced what Pete had shown her—everything from tightening the noose of a rope to fit over a calf’s head to learning how to lean low in the saddle before she started to tackle a goat. As nearly as she could tell, the only progress she had made was to irritate her aching hands and make her rear end even sorer than it had been when she was driving the wagon.

“I don’t know, Tumbleweed,” she said softly as the sturdy little horse took long swallows of water from the trough. “I’ve done this before, but I’m really out of practice. This time I might have seriously overestimated my talents as a cowgirl.”

“Hi!” said a familiar voice behind her. She knew without looking that it was Gabriel.

“Hi,” she answered, quickly rearranging her expression from dismay into confidence. She grinned broadly. “How’s it going?”

“Great,” he said, leaning against the top rail of the fence. He’d changed into a shirt that made his eyes look even bluer than they normally did. He nodded at the plastic calf’s head protruding from the bale of hay and smiled. “Need a little practice, huh?”

Stevie shrugged. “I was just testing out Tumbleweed. I’m in great shape.”

“I see,” said Gabriel. He dangled one end of the rope he held in his hands and looked at the ground. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this bet we’ve got going.”

“Oh?” Stevie’s heart began to beat faster. Maybe Gabriel was about to chicken out.

“Yeah. In fact, I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Stevie smiled to herself. He was trying to find a way to weasel out of it! Maybe there was a chance they could forget this whole thing and she could get back to having some fun with Lisa and Carole. “And?” she asked hopefully.

“And I’ve just decided what I’m going to make you do when I win!” he announced gleefully.

“When you
win
?” she repeated as she felt her face heat up with both anger and disappointment.

“Yeah. When I win.” He looked at her and smiled. “It’s really going to be great! Everybody’s going to love it!”

“Oh, really? What is it?” Stevie asked in spite of herself.

“Are you kidding?” He laughed and tilted his hat back on his head. “Do you honestly think I’d tell you before-hand? Forget it! That’s for me to know and you to find out!”

“Well, before you start enjoying your little dare too much, you’d better start worrying about what I’m going to make you do when
I
win,” retorted Stevie quickly. “It’ll go down in the annals of rodeo history! And I’m not telling you, either!”

“Fine!” said Gabriel.

“Fine!” Stevie cried back, watching with clenched fists as he slung his rope over his shoulder and sauntered off toward the stable. She snorted. Gabriel was undoubtedly the most impossible person she’d ever met, and now she was involved in a bet with him she couldn’t get out of!

“Come on, Tumbleweed,” she said, leading the horse back to the plastic calf head after Gabriel was out of sight. “Now not only do we have to win, we have to think up some totally disgusting thing for him to do!” She looked
at the horse and gave a grim smile. “But we’ll do it, even if we have to practice all night!”

I
N THE RODEO
arena, three clowns were rolling out a dented barrel. One clown was tall, with bright red hair and a sequined vest. The other two were shorter. One wore a baggy black suit and a derby along with a red nose and candy-striped socks, while the other sported a frizzy green wig with pointed Martian ears and an old-timey long-sleeved purple bathing suit.

“I must say, y’all look just as good as the Texarkana Twins,” Sal laughed as Lisa and Carole helped her maneuver the barrel out into the arena.

“Well, I feel pretty happy.” Carole laughed and pulled up one of her striped socks.

“And I certainly feel goofy.” Lisa adjusted the green wig on her head.

“Great. Just keep those feelings in mind while I show you our routines. That way everything will go perfectly.”