Quarter Horse (7 page)

“I
CAN
’
T FIND MY
green wig!” Lisa cried. She stood in the middle of the wagon dressed in her long purple bathing suit, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Look outside, in that plastic storage box Sal gave us,” said Carole, who was pulling up her red-and-white-striped socks.

“Good idea.”

“But watch out for Stevie’s lasso,” Carole called as Lisa jumped out of the wagon. “She’s practicing her releases.”

Suddenly Carole heard a shriek and a thud. She scrambled to the open end of the wagon and looked out. Lisa sat on the ground, a tangle of rope draped around her arms and shoulders.

“Lisa! Are you okay?” Stevie hurried over to her friend.
“I’m so sorry! I was aiming at the bucket on the back of the wagon! I’d just thrown the rope when you came out!”

“I’m okay,” Lisa said as Stevie untangled the rope from around her. “Just as long as you didn’t mistake me for a cow!”

Stevie laughed and helped Lisa to her feet. “I don’t know too many cows that come to the rodeo dressed in purple long johns!”

“Is everyone all right?” Carole asked.

“We’re fine,” Stevie and Lisa replied.

“I saw what you did to her!” a smaller voice called. Eileen stood beside the wagon, dressed in her pioneer costume, her hair now in pigtails.

“Oh, buzz off, Eileen,” said Lisa as she began to rummage in the big plastic box for her wig. “Stevie didn’t do anything to me. It was an accident.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Eileen snapped back.

“Hey, Eileen, why aren’t you dressed for the rodeo?” Stevie asked as she re-coiled her rope. “I thought you were doing some bull riding today.”

“Not me!” cried Eileen, her green eyes wide. “I would never do anything that dirty and dusty and dangerous!” She watched Stevie as she began to twirl her rope again. “Anyway, I know a secret that’s a lot more fun than riding any stupid bull!”

“Really?” Stevie aimed her lasso at the wagon wheel. The noose fell around it cleanly on the first try. Stevie
pulled the rope taut, then gathered it up and started all over again.

Eileen smiled coyly. “Yes. It’s about two people you know really well.”

“You don’t say?” This time Stevie turned her attention to the parking brake at the front of the wagon. She made the noose smaller, then twirled the lasso over her head and let go. Again the noose hit its target dead on.

“Yes,” Eileen said smugly. “And one of them has blue eyes.”

“No kidding?” Stevie walked to the parking brake and loosened her rope. “Gosh, I wonder how many blue-eyed people might be on this wagon train. Ten? Twenty?” She turned and studied Eileen for a long moment. Slowly she started to twirl the rope again. “You know what we do with people who keep secrets around here?” she asked with a menacing grin.

“What?” Eileen stuck out her chest and tried to look fearless.

“We rope ’em.” Stevie raised the lariat over her head and twirled it faster and faster. “And then we hog-tie ’em and hitch ’em to the back of the wagon and let Yankee and Doodle pull ’em around the camp until they beg for mercy!”

“No-o-o-o!” Eileen gave a thin little scream and ran off toward her parents’ campsite.

“What was that noise?” Carole jumped out of the wagon, dressed in her clown costume.

Stevie chuckled. “That was the sound of a terrified Eileen.”

“What happened? Did she lose her teddy bear again?” Carole asked with a frown.

“No,” Stevie replied. “She was running away so that I wouldn’t rope and hog-tie her and let the horses drag her around the camp.”

“Stevie, did you say something to upset the poor little dear?” Carole could barely contain a laugh.

“Well, maybe a little something,” Stevie admitted. Then she remembered all the trouble Eileen had caused everyone in general and herself in particular. “But it was nothing she didn’t deserve,” she added.

“Hey, Carole, are you ready to go?” Lisa asked, finally pulling the green wig out of the box and fitting it on her head. “Since we’re going to have to put on our faces in Sal’s trailer, we should get a move on.”

“I’m ready.” Carole adjusted her derby to just the right angle and gave her candy-striped hose a final tug. “Stevie, are you coming with us?”

“You two go ahead,” said Stevie. “I’m going to practice my roping a little longer. I’ll catch up with you at the arena before everything begins.”

“Okay,” said Carole as she and Lisa began to walk toward the rodeo grounds. “We’ll see you later.”

Stevie smiled as she watched the purple clown with green hair and the baggy-suited clown in a derby run down the grassy hillside. Then she went back inside the
wagon and pulled out her journal. She and Phil were each keeping a diary of their trip to share when they got home, but she’d been too busy to write anything in hers since she’d been practicing for the rodeo. Now she wanted to jot down all the details of the past two days before she forgot them. Hurriedly she scribbled about the bet she’d made with Gabriel, how hard she’d been practicing for the rodeo, and how Lisa and Carole were learning to be clowns.
They are having a lot of fun
, she wrote, then looked up from her paper.

“I wonder what Phil’s writing in his journal,” she said aloud. She frowned, remembering her dream about Secretariat and Phil and the girl with golden-red hair. “He’s probably writing about rafting down some river with this beautiful girl. She’s whispering in his ear in Italian, and he’s probably asked her to be his date for the big Halloween dance at school next fall.” Tears began to fill Stevie’s eyes. She looked at the lariat curled in one corner of the wagon. “Oh, stop it, you nitwit!” she chided herself. “Pull yourself together! You don’t know that any of that’s true, and besides, you’ve got a rodeo to win today!” With that, she put her journal away and jumped out of the wagon, determined to practice her roping even harder than before.

The rodeo started at midmorning. The day was perfect—white clouds floated high in a deep blue sky and the sunshine sparkled with a gentle warmth. A portable fence
divided the arena in two, with the adult events taking place in one half and the junior events in the other. Stevie and Carole and Lisa stood by the fence watching as a four-person color guard rode out on gorgeous paint horses and paraded the American flag around the adult side of the arena. Everyone stood at attention as the Clinchport High School Band played the national anthem.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Carole’s eyes glowed with pride as she held her derby over her heart.

“Always is.” Stevie smiled, replacing her cowboy hat on her head after the band had finished. “Here,” she said, handing Carole and Lisa two safety pins and a sheet of paper with the number 33 in big black letters. “Would you pin this on my back?”

“Sure.” Carole held the paper while Lisa pinned it straight across Stevie’s shoulders. “I’m glad you got thirty-three, Stevie. It feels like a real lucky number.”

“Do you think so?” Stevie twisted around and tried to read her back. “Gabriel’s got number seven.”

“Oh, thirty-three’s a whole lot luckier than seven,” Lisa assured her.

“It better be,” Stevie said grimly with a flinty, determined look in her eyes.

“Hey, Stevie. Relax!” Carole grinned and wiggled her red rubber nose. “This may be a competition, but don’t forget it’s still supposed to be fun!”

“I know.” Stevie walked in a little circle and began to twirl her lariat nervously. “I just wish they would go ahead and start.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the ring announcer called a moment later. “Welcome to Clinchport’s Pioneer Days Rodeo! The first events of the day will be barrel racing for the juniors and bronc riding for the adults. All riders, take your places now!”

“Good luck, Stevie!” Lisa and Carole each gave Stevie a quick hug. “We’ll see you in the ring.”

“Thanks!” Stevie said as she hurried off to join the other contestants. “I’ll need it!”

San Antonio Sal walked out into the center of the ring and waved for Lisa and Carole to join her. As they had discussed the day before, they would clown the first event on foot, since no bucking calves or slippery goats would need to be caught.

“Are y’all feeling funny?” Sal asked as they trotted out to meet her.

“We sure are,” Carole said, looking at the three barrels placed in a big triangle in the middle of the ring. It was around these barrels that Stevie would soon be racing.

“And how’s our cowgirl Stevie doing?” Sal’s red painted-on eyebrows wrinkled in concern.

“She’s nervous,” said Lisa. “But she’s determined to win, and she’s a pretty good barrel racer.”

“Good for her.” Sal grinned. “All right, Texarkana Lisa
and Texarkana Carole, if y’all are ready, then let’s rock and roll!”

The girls followed Sal over to the sidelines, where they began their first routine—one where Sal and Carole fought over who got to push Lisa around in a baby carriage. Carole had just started the fight by bopping Sal over the head with a rubber bat when the ring announcer spoke.

“Our first junior barrel racer is Ms. Mary Corona from Arden Springs. Give her a big howdy, folks!”

Applause rippled through the crowd. The girls clowned through their routine while Mary Corona raced around the barrels. “If we keep an ear on the announcer, we can hear when Stevie’s turn comes,” Carole whispered as Lisa honked her big rubber nose.

“I know.” Lisa winked back as Mary Corona crossed the finish line and the crowd laughed at their antics.

Clowning all the way, Sal and Carole pushed Lisa in the buggy down toward the middle of the arena. Over in the adult part of the rodeo, cowboys were trying to remain seated on bucking broncos while their crowd cheered. The other team of rodeo clowns and the pickup riders were working hard to see that all the cowboys got off their broncs and out of the arena safely.

“Wow,” Lisa said as Sal stopped the baby carriage. “Looks like they’re working a lot harder than we are.”

“They are right now, but just wait till those goats come out,” laughed Sal.

“Look!” Carole pointed to the far end of the arena. “Stevie’s up next. I can see her at the starting line. And Gabriel’s right after her!”

“Okay,” Sal said. “I’ll start juggling so y’all can watch, but remember not to cheer for her. We’re clowns, and clowns root for everybody.”

Sal started juggling three bowling pins while Carole and Lisa pretended to fight over the baby carriage. “Our next contestant is Ms. Stevie Lake,” the announcer said. “All the way from Willow Creek, Virginia! Let’s give this little Southern belle a big hand!”

The crowd cheered. All the pioneers from the wagon train were sitting together, so an especially loud chorus of whistles and cheers went up from them. Carole and Lisa looked at each other and rolled their eyes at the idea of Stevie’s being a Southern belle. Then the starting buzzer sounded. They paused in their make-believe fight and held their breath as Stevie and Tumbleweed shot out of the chute. Stevie leaned into the first turn just as Jeannie and Eli had taught her at the Bar None Ranch; then they flew toward the second barrel. Tumbleweed’s ears were slapped back as he galloped, and the girls could see a look of grim determination on Stevie’s face. They twisted around the last barrel, then dashed toward the finish line. As they crossed it, a huge cheer went up from the crowd. Carole could see Mr. Cate standing up and whistling while Karen Nicely rang a cowbell.

“Whoa, Nellie!” the ring announcer cried. “That little
Southern belle can ride!” He paused, then continued, “Our next contestant is Gabriel Jackson, who’s visiting us from Montana. Let her rip, Gabriel!”

Lisa and Carole watched as Gabriel and Napoleon took their place behind the starting line. When the buzzer sounded, the big palomino burst forward in a rush. He and Gabriel slid around the first barrel and raced to the second. They circled it cleanly. Gabriel leaned forward in the saddle and whacked Napoleon’s rump as they circled the last barrel and rode hard toward the finish line. Again a cheer arose from the crowd as Gabriel pulled up in a cloud of dust.

“Nice job, young man,” the ring announcer said. “That’s all our barrel racing contestants, folks, and in just a moment we’ll announce our results.”

“What do you think?” Lisa asked Carole nervously.

“I don’t know.” Carole frowned. “They both looked awfully fast from this end of the arena.”

They hurried back to where Sal was trying to juggle a tennis racket, a baseball bat, and a feather. The crowd roared with laughter as she got two things going but never all three together.

“How’d she do?” Sal whispered as the tennis racket came crashing to the ground at her feet.

“We don’t know yet,” said Carole. “They’re figuring up the results.”

“Well, we need to go get on our horses,” Sal said. “Lisa, hop back in the baby carriage and we’ll exit stage left.”

Lisa sprawled comically in the buggy just as the ring announcer’s voice rang out. “Ladies and gentlemen, today’s champion junior barrel racer is our little Southern belle, Ms. Stevie Lake from Willow Creek, Virginia!”

Lisa started to clap but caught herself. “One down,” she whispered happily to Carole as they rolled toward the exit. “Four to go!”

The next event was goat wrestling. It worked much like bulldogging, with the riders tackling goats, instead of calves, from horseback and pinning them to the ground. Though goats weighed less than calves, they were faster and a lot nimbler. Sal reminded the girls what their jobs were as they hurried over to their horses.

“Now, remember. Carole will act just like a hazer in calf roping and make sure the goat keeps running straight. Lisa, you’ll make sure the rider’s okay at all times, and I’ll worry about making everything seem funny for the crowd.”

“Where do we herd the goats after they’ve been pinned?” Carole asked as she made sure Pogo’s cinch was tight.

Sal mounted Sadie and peered into the arena. “Head ’em over to that stock pen by the speaker’s stand. The pickup boys want to save that big pen beside the racetrack for some of the nastier bulls the adults will ride.”

“Okay,” the girls said as they mounted up. They rode to the gate and waited as the grounds crew removed the barrels and set up the goat chute. Then they loped out
onto the field, doing Sal’s famous chase routine. By the time they had the crowd howling with laughter, the goat wrestling was ready to begin. Carole took her place on one side of the goat chute while Lisa rode over next to the riders’ gate. Sal trotted down to the far end of the arena and began pulling balloons out of Sadie’s left ear.