Quarter Horse (9 page)

Pulling a huge red scarf from her pocket, she ran full speed toward the snorting bull. The bright, shiny fabric must have caught his eye, because he looked up from the cowboy he was trying to gore and started to run straight at Sal. While another clown helped the shaken cowboy to his feet, Sal flapped her scarf at the bull and lured him toward the barrel, where the barrel man was poking his head up and yelling something at the bull in Spanish. Confused, the angry animal stopped and pawed the ground for a moment, his breath coming in loud snorts. As he tried to decide what to do next, the point clown sneaked along the fence and opened the temporary pen next to the racetrack.

“See if you can get him in here, Sal,” the clown called. “I’ll head him off this way.”

Sal nodded but didn’t take her eyes off the bull. “Come on, Bossy,” she called to the animal sweetly. “You’ve already dumped your rider. Now you need to go bye-bye!”

The bull stared at her. She waved her scarf as if she were bidding someone farewell, then twirled it over her head like a lasso. The bull snorted once and ran straight at her, his hooves thundering in the dirt.

“Heads up, everybody!” the barrel man yelled. “Here he comes!”

Still twirling the scarf, Sal ran straight for the open pen. The bull chased her at a hard gallop. As fast as Sal
was running, the bull was gaining on her. His horns were not ten feet away from her when she scurried into the pen and scrambled up the fence on the other side. Bellowing loudly, the bull rushed in behind her, and the point clown slammed the pen shut behind him. The stadium erupted in wild cheers.

“Folks, that was San Antonio Sal doing that fancy piece of footwork with that bull,” the adult ring announcer said. “Let’s give her and all our hardworking rodeo clowns a big hand!”

Sal bounded happily back into the ring and bowed, then ran over and pretended to give the limping cowboy a big kiss. The crowd roared and clapped even harder as she clowned her way back to the junior ring.

“Wow,” Carole breathed as Sal climbed back over the fence. “That was really scary!”

“I know,” Lisa said shakily. “My heart’s beating like crazy. And look. That bull still hasn’t calmed down.”

Carole looked over at the temporary pen. The bull stood in the middle of it, staring at Sal, still pawing at the ground and bellowing.

“Whew!” Sal said, wiping her forehead as she walked over to the girls. “That was a close one! I didn’t think that little ol’ temporary fence was going to hold me when I started climbing it! It must be made out of chicken wire!”

“Sal, we were so scared,” Lisa said. “I had no idea bulls were that fast.”

“They can be when they’re mad. Apparently that critter is having a bad rodeo day!” Sal laughed as she caught her breath. “How’s the pole bending going?”

Lisa and Carole looked at each other. In all the excitement, they’d totally forgotten about the pole bending contest. Immediately they turned their attention to the junior ring, where Gabriel had just finished.

“Oh, good,” Lisa said as the announcer called Stevie’s name. “We haven’t missed Stevie. I hope she remembers everything Sal taught her about pole bending.”

“I do, too,” said Carole. “That way she might at least do better at this than she did at goat wrestling. Stevie doesn’t need to be the comic relief again!”

The girls watched as Stevie and Tumbleweed positioned themselves behind the starting line. The buzzer sounded, and Tumbleweed leaped forward at a gallop. They twisted around the first pole, then the second. Tumbleweed wove around the poles surefootedly, using all his quarter horse instincts. Carole and Lisa noticed that Stevie leaned back ever so slightly in the saddle when Tumbleweed changed his leads, just the way Sal had told her. They turned around the end pole in a cloud of dust, then began twisting back through the course to the finish line. Stevie’s hat flew off her head again as Tumbleweed lengthened his stride into a hard gallop. A cheer went up from the crowd as they finished.

“A mighty fine run for Ms. Stevie Lake!” the announcer
called. “Give her a big hand, and we’ll have our winners in just a minute.”

The crowd clapped for Stevie. Several wild cheers rang out from the wagon train contingent. Lisa and Carole looked at each other, wondering if Stevie had been fast enough to beat Gabriel. If Stevie didn’t win this event, there would be no way she could win the rodeo, and her bet with Gabriel would be over.

“Oh, please,” Lisa whispered, closing her eyes and crossing her fingers. “Let her win this one!”

Suddenly the ring announcer’s voice broke the expectant stillness of the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “I’m pleased to announce that this year’s pole bending champ is none other than Ms. Stevie Lake from Willow Creek, Virginia!”

Though Carole and Lisa knew they weren’t supposed to cheer, they leaned over from their horses and gave each other a hug. Again they could hear Mr. Cate’s shrill whistle ringing out over Karen Nicely’s wildly clanging cowbell.

“Now they’re tied,” said Carole. “Whoever wins the quarter-mile race will win it all!”

“G
OOD BOY
, T
UMBLEWEED
!” Stevie said to the sweaty quarter horse as she led him to the trough for a long drink of water. From the arena she could hear the rodeo crowd laughing at one of Sal and Lisa and Carole’s routines, while just ahead of her a tractor smoothed the surface of the track in preparation for the quarter-mile race. There was a fifteen-minute break, during which the clowns would entertain the crowd and then help them relocate around the track. The break also served as a rest period for the horses and riders who’d competed in the previous events.

“You’ve been such a good horse!” Stevie reached over and patted Tumbleweed’s lathered shoulder as he slurped long swallows of water. “Everything that’s gone wrong has been my fault.”

Stevie knew very well that the day’s mistakes had, indeed, been hers. Tumbleweed had performed perfectly, from racing after the goat at just the right speed to holding the calf tightly on the line while Stevie tried to tie his feet. “I guess I’m just not too hot with four-legged nonhorse creatures,” she said with a shrug.

She looked at Tumbleweed. “But I’m real good when it’s just me alone, and we’re great together!” She grinned as Tumbleweed raised his head from the water trough, his chin dripping. “Now we’ve just got one more event to go. If we can win this race, it won’t matter how badly I wrestle goats or rope calves!”

She led Tumbleweed to the concession trailer and leaned against him as Carole and Lisa chased Sal around the arena, trying to rope her with string they squirted out of a can. She smiled as she watched her friends clowning for the crowd and making everyone laugh. “I bet Phil’s not doing anything like that right now,” she whispered. “I bet he’s probably paddling down some river with Meghan or Chelsea or whatever her name is. She’s wearing some really cute outfit, and they’re probably planning their next vacation together, which will be something really glamorous and exciting, like climbing the Himalayas.” Just at that moment Tumbleweed shifted on his feet and gave a big sigh. “I know exactly how you feel, boy,” Stevie said sadly as she rubbed the horse behind his ears.

“Hi, Stevie.”

Stevie looked up to see Eileen, dressed in her pioneer clothes and holding a cone of pink cotton candy.

“Hi, Eileen,” she replied.

“I saw you try to wrestle that little goat. You were pretty funny. Everybody laughed at you.”

“Oh, really?” Stevie’s cheeks started to burn—not at the thought of the crowd laughing at her, but at the thought of Mr. Hotshot Rodeo Star Gabriel laughing at her.

“Yes, it was
really
funny.” Eileen bit into her cotton candy. “I laughed the hardest.”

“I bet you did, Eileen.” Stevie took off her cowboy hat and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“You know, I still know that secret,” Eileen began again.

“What secret?”

“The one I tried to tell you this morning.”

Stevie frowned. “You mean when you came over to the wagon and bugged us while we were trying to get ready?”

Eileen nodded.

“I thought you were making up that secret business just to be a pest.”

“No,” said Eileen. “I really do have a secret.”

“Sorry, Eileen.” Stevie turned back toward Tumbleweed. “I don’t think you could possibly know anything that I would be the least bit interested in learning.”

“You never know,” Eileen taunted her. “I mean, I
might know something that you might need to know, because if you didn’t, something terrible might happen.”

“Go watch the rodeo, Eileen,” Stevie said as she checked Tumbleweed’s right front shoe. “Go see what the clowns are doing.”

“And then if something terrible happened and you didn’t know because you hadn’t bothered to ask …”

“Eileen, I—”

“And then you’d really feel horrible if—”

“All right!” Stevie said so sharply that Tumbleweed jumped. “I give up! Eileen, whatever this vitally important secret is, please, just go ahead and spit it out now!”

Eileen started to poke out her lower lip in her usual pout but then changed her mind. “Okay.” She took a step toward Stevie and spoke just above a whisper. “This is what I overheard Gabriel telling Shelly Bean at lunch the other day. He told Shelly that you two had a bet, and whoever won the most rodeo events would get to make the other perform a secret dare.”

Stevie rolled her eyes and slapped her hat back on her head. “Sorry, Eileen, but that’s old news. I was there when we made the bet. I already know all that stuff.”

“But wait. There’s more. I heard what Gabriel’s secret dare is!” Eileen’s green eyes glittered.

Stevie looked at Eileen and frowned. As much as she disliked the idea of getting any information at all from this bratty little girl, Gabriel’s secret dare was something worth knowing. “What?” she finally asked reluctantly.

Eileen grinned. “Gabriel’s going to dare you to be his date for the big barbecue dinner tonight, and he wants to make you rush up and give him a big kiss when he accepts his first-prize award!”

“What?” Stevie was stunned. She grew first hot, then cold, and her head spun. This was far worse than anything she had ever imagined! She had thought she would just make Gabriel put on her pioneer dress and milk Veronica. She figured he would make her do something like saying over and over that he was the best rodeo rider in the world while she cleaned out Napoleon’s stall. She had no idea Gabriel would want to make her kiss him! And worse, in front of everybody!

No way! She turned and furiously checked all the buckles on Tumbleweed’s tack. Nohow! She smoothed Tumbleweed’s saddle blanket and gave him a brisk pat on his rump. They were going to win this race. Even if she had to carry Tumbleweed across the finish line on her back, she would do it to avoid having to kiss Gabriel!

“All quarter-mile racers, please report to the track,” said the ring announcer’s voice.

Stevie hopped up on Tumbleweed. She looked down at Eileen, whose mouth was now ringed with pink cotton-candy stains. “Thanks, Eileen. You’ve just let me know how much is at stake in this race.”

“So it was a pretty good secret, huh?” Eileen asked proudly.

“Eileen, it was one of the best I’ve heard in a long time. Now go find your parents and watch me beat Gabriel.”

“Oh, goody!” Eileen said as she scurried off to the grandstand.

Stevie and Tumbleweed trotted over to the starting line, steering clear of the angry bull, which was still snorting at everyone who came near his pen. Stevie saw that Carole and Lisa and Sal were clowning on horseback, leading the crowd from the arena stands and out toward the track so that they could watch the race more closely. Lisa and Sal had exited the grandstand at the far end of the arena while Carole had ridden out closer to Stevie. She and Pogo stood between the starting line and the pen that held the cantankerous bull. Stevie waved at Carole, who waved back and then started making kicking motions with her feet. Stevie frowned and looked down at her boots. What was Carole trying to tell her? Had she stepped on a candy wrapper or something?

“Riders, take your places behind the starting line, please!” A man wearing a black ten-gallon hat was speaking through a bullhorn. Stevie forgot about her boots and trotted Tumbleweed up to a tape that stretched across the track. Mary Corona, riding her pinto, was already there, as were some riders Stevie didn’t recognize. She was just beginning to wonder where Gabriel was when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Hey, Miss I Can Pin a Goat to the Ground in Eight
Seconds! How’s it going?” Gabriel laughed and pulled Napoleon up right beside her. Stevie had never realized how much bigger Napoleon was than Tumbleweed, and how his coat seemed to glitter like gold in the sun. Gabriel reined him back a little. “I had no idea you were going to go for laughs in the goat wrestling. I thought your friends were supposed to be the clowns today!”

“They needed some help in that event, Mr. Can’t Bend a Pole or Race a Barrel Too Fast,” Stevie snapped back. “The crowd was getting bored with a certain contestant taking all these grand tours of the arena, waving to them on his golden palomino!”