Riding Camp (4 page)

“And you?” Barry said, pointing to her.

Lisa had taken a public speaking course in school and had gotten an A in it. But she’d never had a public-speaking assignment that included confessing to a circle of people, most of them strangers, that she didn’t have much experience as a rider. She didn’t know how to begin. She cleared her throat, stalling for time.

“Um, my name’s Lisa Atwood. I’m riding a horse named, uh, Major. I come from Willow Creek, Virginia, and I just started riding a few months ago.” She stared down at the ground.

“Any prizes or ribbons you’d like to tell us about?” Barry asked.

“Prizes?” Lisa repeated as if she’d never heard the word. Barry nodded encouragement. “Well, I guess, maybe. Um, my team won a gymkhana. Does that count?”

A few riders tittered. Lisa wanted to die.

“I think you’re holding back on us, Lisa,” Barry said. “I spoke to Max Regnery about you. He says you
are a very promising student. He expects great things of you. You may not have any ribbons yet, but it won’t be long.” Lisa turned bright red.

Some students continued to stare at her, but now Lisa felt better about it. Maybe she didn’t have as much experience as most of the others, but she had potential. She just wished she could hang it in a cabinet on the wall.

Carole introduced herself and her horse, Basil. She’d been riding long enough that the other students respected her without support from Barry.

Then it was Stevie’s turn. One look at Stevie and Lisa knew she would be in trouble. Stevie obviously hadn’t heard a word anybody had said. She had a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes that could mean only one thing: Love.

“Hey, you!” Barry said, waving his arms to catch Stevie’s attention. It didn’t work. Carole reached her hand over to pinch her. Stevie absently brushed Carole’s hand away.

“Stevie!” Carole hissed. “It’s your turn! Time to introduce yourself and Topside.”

Suddenly, Stevie looked panicked. She’d missed everything that was going on and had no idea what to say.

“Cough,” Carole whispered, reaching over as if to help her friend. “Cough hard.”

Obediently, Stevie began hacking. She was so convincing, she looked as if she were choking.

Carole thumped her gently on the back, trying to look as if she were helping her friend through a difficult coughing fit. “This is my friend Stevie Lake,” she said. “Like Lisa and me, Stevie rides at Pine Hollow. She’s been riding since she was eight. She’s been in a lot of local shows and has a cabinet full of ribbons. There’s one trophy there, but I think it’s pretty dusty, so it might have been Best Beginner when she was eight and she doesn’t take it very seriously. She’s riding Topside, who used to belong to Dorothy DeSoto. Pine Hollow bought him from her when she retired from competitive riding. Are you okay now, Stevie?” Carole asked sweetly, now that Stevie’s “fit” had stopped.

“I’m just fine, thank you, Carole. Just fine.”

“Fully recovered?” Carole asked significantly.

“Mmm-hmm,” Stevie said. “Thanks for the help.”

Whatever else was going on in Stevie’s mind, and Lisa suspected that a lot was going on in there, Lisa knew two things for sure: Stevie had learned her lesson about daydreaming in class, and Carole was a true friend—and a fast thinker!

A
FTER CLASS
, L
ISA
dismounted and led Major to the barn, where he could be cross-tied and untacked. Some horses were likely to move when you were trying to work on them, so it always made sense to hook a rope on either side of the horse’s halter to keep the movement to a minimum. So far, Lisa and Major were getting along pretty well. He was cooperative, and she was glad of it.

There were a couple of stablehands who could have untacked Major, but Lisa wanted the opportunity to work with him and get to know him. And there was no better way to learn about a horse than to take care of him.

Debbie was untacking her horse next to her. Lisa thought it was a good chance to be friendly.

“Barry’s really a good teacher, isn’t he?” she remarked while she removed Major’s bridle.

“He’s tough, if that’s what you mean,” Debbie said. “Sometimes I think he’s too tough. You can only remember so much at one time—”

“That’s not what Max thinks,” Lisa said, encouraged by the girl’s response. “Our instructor at home thinks you should be able to remember everything. After all,
he
does. Once, he told me eight things I was doing wrong at once!”

Debbie looked at her strangely. Probably Debbie thought that if Lisa could make so many mistakes all at once, she really wasn’t worthy of riding with Debbie. Lisa decided on the spot that if that was the way Debbie felt, she really didn’t want to have anything to do with her. She turned one hundred percent of her attention to Major, who needed a good brushing.

Brushing, Lisa found, was the perfect activity to do when you were angry. You grabbed the brush and scraped at the horse’s coat. The angrier you were, the more vigorously you brushed, and the more your horse liked it. She could tell Major was enjoying himself.

By the time Lisa was finished, Major’s coat was smooth and clean. He was ready for a drink.

Lisa led the horse to the trough at the paddock end of the barn. Fred, the stablehand, was there, holding on to three horses at once and paying attention to
none of them. It was a warm day and the horses were still hot. They were guzzling water, which was dangerous. Overheated, overwatered horses could get bad stomachaches.

Lisa wasn’t sure what to do. She knew what Fred was doing was wrong, but how could she tell him? “Haven’t they had enough?” she suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Fred said. “They’re still drinking.”

Of course they were, but that wasn’t the point. Lisa didn’t want to get into an argument with Fred, but she would if it meant keeping the horses from illness. Luckily Betty, the head stablehand, arrived and spoke for her.

“Fred, those horses have had enough water for now! Put them in the paddock and bring down a fresh bale of hay.” Fred yanked the horses back from the trough and took them to the paddock. Lisa didn’t like his yanking, either, but at least it wasn’t dangerous to the animals.

Betty shook her head. “He’s new,” she confided to Lisa. “He’s the son of some friend of Barry’s and he’s supposed to be this horse genius, but he isn’t. He’s more work than he is help.”

Still muttering to herself, Betty left to help a camper who was having trouble loosening his horse’s girth.

One thing was certain: Stevie had been absolutely right about the stablehands—or at least one of them. The best way to make sure their horses were well taken care of was to do it themselves.

She patted Major’s neck and led him to the paddock, where he would stay until she could give him some fresh hay.

In a few minutes, Fred reappeared, carrying a bale of hay on a wheelbarrow. He dumped it onto the barn floor, snapped the wire that held it, and began breaking off flakes, which were chunks of the hay, for each horse.

Lisa took a flake to feed to Major. As far as she was concerned, fresh hay had about the nicest smell in the world. She sniffed deeply.

Something was wrong. It didn’t smell right. It didn’t smell rotten, but it just didn’t smell like fresh hay. It had an odd odor.

Carole was just entering the paddock with her horse. “What’s up?” she asked, noticing the funny look on Lisa’s face.

“I don’t know,” Lisa said. “But the hay smells funny.” She held it out to Carole.

Carole felt the hay, rubbing it between her fingers. She sniffed a few strands of it and then the whole bunch of it together.

“It’s moldy,” Carole said. “I sure hope none of the horses have had any of this.”

“Fred just brought it down from the loft. He’s over—”

Lisa didn’t get to finish. When horses’ well-being was at stake, Carole never wasted a minute.

“Betty!” Carole called out. She ran over to Betty and showed her the hay.

Within a few minutes, Betty gathered up all the hay from the bale that Fred had brought and put it in a pile outside, well away from the barn. Moldy hay could not only make horses sick, but it could also start fires. Betty didn’t want to take any chances.

She had Fred bring another bale down, and together they tested it. It was just fine. Fred cut it open and each of The Saddle Club girls took a flake for her horse. The girls had to hurry a little. There was an unmounted riding class in five minutes, followed by an instructional film before dinner. Moose Hill might have a problem with at least one stablehand, but it was serious about teaching riding skills, and the girls wouldn’t have any free time until after dinner.

They jogged across the field to the rec hall, where their unmounted class was taking place.

“Saddle Club Meeting after dinner,” Carole said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about!”

Lisa and Stevie certainly agreed with that.

“Where shall we meet?” Lisa asked.

“How about by the pond?” Stevie suggested. “There’s a clearing on the shore near our cabin.”

The girls agreed that it would be a nice place to be in the evening. The water, stars, and moonlight would make the perfect setting for a Saddle Club Meeting.

“O
UCH
!”
S
LAP
!
“I got it,” Stevie said. “One more wretched mosquito has met his maker. And here comes another to take its place.”
Slap!

The lakeside in the evening
was
a pretty spot, and unfortunately one million mosquitoes seemed to agree.

Carole ignored Stevie’s tirade against the entire insect population of western Virginia. “I can’t believe these girls,” she began. “I’ve never seen such a snotty attitude—like they’re too good to ride with anybody else!”

Lisa told them about Debbie’s reaction to her casual remark about Max giving her eight instructions at once. “And the boys are just as bad,” she added.

“Not all of them,” Stevie said. They didn’t have to ask her whom she had in mind.

“Not all of the girls are awful, either,” Lisa admitted. “After all, Nora is pretty nice. And that girl Lily something, who was riding the gray, seemed friendly.”

“Sure, some of them are fine. I guess
most
of them are fine,” Carole conceded. “But the snotty ones are
unbelievable. They are so convinced they’re going to win all the ribbons at the show next week just because they won them before. And that they deserve them! Ugh, I
hate
that kind of snobbishness.”

“So do I,” Lisa said. “So does almost everybody. But what can we do?” She slapped a mosquito. “I mean it’s not as if we can change them.”

“Why not?” Carole asked. “I mean why not try to change them?”

“Oooooh, look,” Stevie interrupted, pointing. On the far side of the pond, the sun was setting. Above the trees, the sky was streaked with a breathtaking array of oranges, yellows, and pinks. The scene was perfectly reflected on the glasslike surface of the pond.

“Very beautiful,” Lisa agreed.

“Yeah, so romantic,” Stevie said dreamily.

Dreamy was not Stevie’s usual state. Carole didn’t think Stevie had ever noticed a sunset before in her life, but she decided to keep that observation to herself. She tossed a small pebble into the water. It made circles, rippling the sunset’s reflection.

A frog croaked.

“Oh, cute!” Stevie said.

It was too much for Carole. “Cute? What’s so cute about a frog?” she asked grumpily. She was getting tired of this new nature-loving phase. Stevie had the good sense not to answer.

“So how are we going to change everything?” Lisa asked, resuming their discussion.

“Oh, yes,” Carole said, brightening. “The obvious way. These girls think they’re going to win all the ribbons, right?”

Lisa and Stevie nodded.

“So, we don’t let them.
We
win them all instead. That’ll show them!”

Her friends grinned wickedly. Carole continued, “The trick is going to be letting Elsa and Debbie get overconfident—not that they’re not already. Anyway, what we’ve got to do is to
look
like we’re bumbling beginners. You know, we’ll make dumb mistakes so they can feel superior. Then, when the time comes—whammo! We’ll take all the blues!”

“What a fabulous idea!” Lisa laughed. “Only it’s mostly going to be you two, you know—partly because you know so much and partly because Stevie will be riding Topside. I think I feel a Saddle Club project coming on. We just have to work like crazy, right? And knock their boots off!”

“Yes!” Stevie said enthusiastically, suddenly drawn into the conversation. “We can do it. I know we can!” She slapped another mosquito. “Now can we please go inside?”

“Not quite,” Lisa said. “There’s another problem, in case you didn’t know, and his name is Fred. I heard
Betty complaining. It seems he’s new and he thinks he knows a lot, but he doesn’t. If you care about your horses, you’ll do all the work yourself.”

Carole stood up and stretched. “He’s trouble all right. I guess we were all thinking we could have a vacation from hard stable work here, but it’s no vacation when your horse is in danger.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stevie said, obviously anxious to conclude the conversation. She slapped another mosquito vigorously. “I think I’m being eaten alive!”