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Authors: Bonnie Bryant

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BOOK: Trail Ride
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She quickly ran up the steps and started pounding on the door and ringing the bell. It didn’t take long before she heard the sound of feet hurrying down a staircase.

The door flew open and a man, hair disheveled and still trying to tie his bathrobe closed, looked at her with surprise. “Who are you?” he demanded angrily. “What do you mean waking us up at this time of night?”

Stevie guessed that this was Will’s father. Unfortunately she had never asked Will his last name, so she didn’t know how to address him. “Please, sir, it’s your horse. She must have been spooked by the storm and run into something. She’s gashed open her leg and I think it’s pretty bad.”

“Honey?” he said, peering past her into the night.

Stevie shook her head. “No, it’s Sugar. You have to call the vet,” she told him frantically. “I think she’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Dad, who is it?” a sleepy voice called from inside the house.

Stevie instantly recognized it. “It’s Stevie, Will!” she yelled past his father. “Sugar’s hurt!”

That was all it took. In a flash the boy was downstairs. A moment later all three of them were racing outside.

Will’s father took one look at the horse and immediately went back inside to call the veterinarian. While he was gone, Stevie and Will coaxed the mare into the barn.

When Will’s father returned, he noticed Stevie’s makeshift tourniquet. He looked at it curiously, and Stevie hastened to explain why she had put it there.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” he admitted. “But I think you might have saved Sugar’s life.”

Stevie flushed with the praise.

The animal doctor arrived shortly after and took charge of the mare.

Stevie knew she had been away from the party far too long and that her parents were probably worrying about her, but she couldn’t leave until she heard the prognosis.

Finally the vet told them that Sugar was going to be fine. “She lost a lot of blood, but someone got to her just in time.”

Will’s father thanked Stevie profusely and then told his son to see her safely home.

On the short trip back to her cousin’s house, Will thanked her over and over again. “I know you really wanted to go out West with your friends,” he said, “but I’m sure glad you came here instead. If you hadn’t, Sugar would have died.”

Stevie mulled this over in her head. Missing the trip to the Bar None had devastated her, but if she weighed that against saving a horse’s life, the price was well worth it.

With a whole new outlook on the trip, Stevie led the way into the house.

The first person to spot her was Dava, whose eyes went wide with shock and amusement. “Stevie, look at yourself! What have you been up to?” She laughed. “You look like someone dragged you backward through a bush.”

Stevie had completely forgotten about her appearance. She glanced down and saw with dismay the torn remnants of her dinner outfit and her mud-covered, shoeless feet.

“There was an accident,” she said with quiet dignity. “I had to help.”

Dava’s scathing laugh rang around the room. “The only accident I see is you,” she crowed. “You’re a walking disaster!”

“Shut up, Dava!” Alex said, pushing his cousin aside. He looked at Stevie with concern. “You okay?”

After the drama of the last hour, the compassion in his eyes almost made her cry. She nodded mutely.

“The horse okay?”

Stevie’s heart soared. Her brother knew her so well. “She’s going to be fine.”

The two of them shared a moment that only twins could: an almost psychic connection. They had their differences, but their bond would always be unbreakable.

Will stepped into the room and his eyes widened as he spotted Dava. “
You’re
Stevie’s cousin?”

“W-Will?” Dava stuttered.

“No wonder you had to get out of here,” Will murmured to Stevie.

Stevie’s head swam. Dava and Will knew each other!

“For your information, Dava,” Will continued, his voice filled with contempt, “Stevie just saved my horse’s life!”

Dava’s mouth opened and shut a few times. “How nice,” she finally said.

“Awww, girls,” Will muttered contemptuously. Then he quickly turned to Stevie. “Not you, of course. You’re the best!”

The absolute crestfallen look on Dava’s face was almost as good as the compliment from Will.

At that moment, Stevie’s mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, gawking at her daughter. “What in the world …”

Stevie straightened her shoulders and went to explain things to her parents. After what she’d just been through, she could face anything.

L
ISA WOKE THE
next morning alone in the bunkhouse. She flexed her legs and arms and immediately regretted it. She was sore from head to toe. With a sigh, she lay back in bed and replayed the events of the night before.

She vividly recalled the harrowing ride to get help for Carole, but after her slide down the last part of the cliff, her memory was spotty.

She remembered relying completely on Stewball to see her home, and he had not failed her. There had been a huge outcry when she had ridden in, and someone helped her down, yelling for help.

They had tried to fuss over her but she had insisted
on telling them all about Carole and the thieves at the dig site before letting them clean her face and lacerated hands.

Mr. Devine called for the doctor and sheriff, then hurriedly packed the truck with blankets and a medical kit.

Despite Mrs. Devine’s protests, Lisa climbed in the truck, refusing to come out, insisting that the rescue would go faster if she accompanied Mr. Devine back to the site. No amount of cajoling would change her mind, and faced with her implacable attitude, they had finally agreed. It was only as they were pulling out that she remembered the valiant little horse that had seen her this far.

“Paula!” she yelled out the window.

Instantly the wrangler was at the truck door.

“Stewball. You have to take care of Stewball,” she told her. “He saved my life!”

Paula assured her that she was already looking after him and she would stay with him all night if he needed it.

The bumpy ride up to the cliff was something of a blur, but Lisa remembered leaping from the vehicle as soon as it had stopped and sprinting to where she had left Carole. To her immense relief her friend was alive and relatively aware, though groggy and still feverish. Even as they were
moving her gently into the cab of the truck, the helicopters from the sheriff’s department were buzzing overhead on their way to corral the thieves.

By the time they had made the journey back to the ranch, the doctor was there waiting for them and immediately took Carole into the guest room for examination.

“Rocky Mountain spotted fever,” he announced when he returned. “I got Kate’s blood tests back earlier this evening, and this young lady has the same symptoms. Of course, I can’t be absolutely certain until I do some lab tests, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ve already started Kate on tetracycline, and I’m going to do the same for Carole.”

Lisa’s heart had contracted with fear. “Spotted fever! Is that deadly?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

The doctor looked at her gravely. “If left untreated it can have severe consequences: partial paralysis of the lower extremities, gangrene leading to possible amputation, hearing loss, possible movement and language disorders.”

Lisa realized she must have looked alarmed, because he had placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we caught them both in time. You say Carole suffered a seizure this evening?”

Lisa nodded.

He nodded his head knowingly. “That’s rare. Only about ten percent of victims have that reaction, but it does happen. Good thing for her you were there.”

As the doctor checked Lisa out, cleaning and disinfecting her wounds, he questioned her closely about where they had gone and what they had done since arriving at the ranch.

She filled him in to the best of her ability and was surprised to find him smiling when she finished.

“You’re making me jealous,” he said. “Next time you girls come to visit, I’d sure appreciate an invitation to tag along.”

Lisa smiled, too, in spite of her aches and pains.

“Here’s my thinking.… Rocky Mountain spotted fever is carried by ticks and transmitted through their bite.”

Lisa had a sudden flashback to both Kate and Carole scratching their arms and legs over the last few days.

“Since no one else around these parts has complained of the same symptoms,” he continued, “I think we can be fairly certain you girls came in contact with it at that pond. That means it’s now officially off-limits. Sorry.”

Later Mrs. Devine made Lisa a bowl of hot soup and tucked her into bed. The bunkhouse, missing both Kate and Carole, had seemed lonely and big, and Lisa had
been sure she would never be able to fall asleep. She was out almost before her head touched the pillow.

Now it was morning and, by the look of the sun, well into it.
I’ve probably missed breakfast, but maybe I can scrounge something from the kitchen. I’m starving!

Crawling painfully out of bed, Lisa was forced to put on some of the new clothes her mom had bought because everything else was dirty. The clothes she had worn the night before were downright unsalvageable. She held up the jeans. Her slide down the cliff had really destroyed them—they were torn at the knees and stained with ground-in dirt and blood. The shirt was even worse—sleeves practically ripped from the shoulders, pockets torn off, the front in tatters, and several buttons missing.

She tossed the jeans in the trash and was about to do the same thing with the shirt when she changed her mind and returned it to her suitcase. It would make an interesting memento of the trip.

She limped to the main house, her body protesting every step.

There was nobody around when she got there, so she decided to check on Carole and Kate before looking for food. She didn’t knock, in case they were sleeping, but
instead eased the bedroom door open quietly and peeked inside.

“Lisa,” Carole called to her. “My hero!”

Lisa felt herself blush.

“Come in,” Kate invited, propping herself up against a cushion of several pillows.

“How are you two doing?” Lisa asked, closing the door behind her.

Kate made a face and held up her hands. They were covered with red splotches sprinkled with tiny purple dots. “Something for Carole to look forward to,” she said ruefully.

Lisa perched on the edge of the bed. “Good thing the prom is a long time away. You might have a hard time getting a date looking like that.”

Carole and Kate exchanged looks and burst out laughing. “Have you looked in the mirror this morning?” Carole asked her.

“No.”

“Go on, take a peek,” Kate urged.

Lisa got up and moved to the vanity mirror. The image it reflected took her completely by surprise. Her lip was swollen and purple where she had bitten it, her chin and the tip of her nose showed nasty red
scratches from sliding facedown in the dirt, and she had a shiner to beat all shiners encircling her right eye. She touched it tentatively and winced. “I look like I was in a boxing match!”

“I’d say none of us in this room is prom material,” Carole laughed.

“At least you didn’t catch this plague,” Kate said. “Something to be thankful for.”

Lisa smiled wearily. “True.”

“I have a lot more than that to be thankful for,” Carole said solemnly. “Thank you, Lisa. You saved my life.”

Embarrassed, Lisa shrugged. “You would have done the same for me.”

“I’m not sure I could have,” Carole told her. “Have you seen this?” She pulled something out from under her pillow. “Paula showed it to me this morning.”

Lisa went to the bed and took the object from her hand. It was a Polaroid photograph of the face of a cliff. Lisa shrugged. “So?”

“Lisa,” Carole said quietly, “that’s what you rode down last night.”

Lisa was totally stunned. She looked at the picture again, taking in the absurd steepness of the terrain and the teeny tiny trail she now remembered so vividly
working her way down. She swallowed hard. “Yeah, well, Stewball did most of the work.”

Carole, with tears in her eyes, opened her arms wide. Lisa gave her a big hug, feeling infinitely grateful that the two of them had both made it through the night.

“What about me?” Kate demanded from the other bed.

Lisa laughed and went to hug her, too. The three of them chatted for a little while longer, and then Lisa left them alone to sleep and recuperate while she went in search of food.

Mrs. Devine was in the kitchen, and the minute Lisa showed herself she was enfolded in another warm embrace.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Mrs. Devine gushed. “After what you went through last night, I thought you should sleep as long as you wanted this morning.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Devine,” she said, settling herself in a chair. “Could I have a couple of pieces of toast?” she asked hopefully. “I can make it myself.”

To her amazement Mrs. Devine looked like she was going to burst into tears. “A couple of pieces of toast?” she cried. “After riding down a cliff in the middle of
the night to save your friend? When I saw that photograph my heart nearly stopped.”

BOOK: Trail Ride
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