Horse Trade

  EMERGENCY ON THE TRAIL

  Phil pointed to a slow gray ribbon that wound itself through the green fields below. “That’s the Silverado River,” he said to Hollie.

  “It’s fantastic,” she said. But she didn’t sound right. The words came out slowly and painfully, as if she had to force them.

  “Are you okay?” Stevie asked.

  Hollie didn’t respond at first. Instead she was taking shallow breaths that didn’t seem to satisfy her.

  “I’m fine!” Hollie said, and from the way she said it, with a toss of her head, Stevie knew that she was trying to raise a laugh. But there was nothing to laugh at, because Hollie had turned pale with faint blue shadows under her eyes.

  “Can you hear me?” Stevie shouted. “Hollie!”

  Hollie focused on her and whispered, “Yes.” It came out as a horrible wheezing sound.…

  I would like to thank Mary Kay Tobin, M.D., and Bruce H. Koenig, D.V.M., whose patient explanations about allergies were invaluable to me in writing this book.

  I would also like to thank Katie Cooke, who inspired it.

  RL5, 009–012

  HORSE TRADE

  A Bantam Skylark Book / November 1994

  Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.

  “The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller. The Saddle Club design/logo, which consists of a riding crop and a riding hat, is a trademark of Bantam Books. “USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of The United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at the Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 1994 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. For information address: Bantam Books.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-82521-6

  Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

  v3.1

  I would like to express my special

  thanks to Helen Geraghty for her

  help in the writing of this book.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  About the Author

  STEVIE LAKE LOOKED around suspiciously at the audience at the high-school auditorium where the Willow Creek Community Theater staged its productions. Was that man in a tweed coat a hotshot Broadway producer? Was the woman with a deep suntan a Hollywood scout? Would this be the last time that the members of The Saddle Club would be together?

  When her song ended, Lisa Atwood lowered her arms, and the auditorium was silent for a second. Then the audience erupted into applause.

  “To think we know her,” Carole Hanson said as she and Stevie sprang to their feet.

  “Maybe she’ll send us an autographed picture from time to time,” Stevie said. “Maybe we’ll glimpse her on the cover of People magazine.”

  “We can look at her pictures during Saddle Club meetings,” Carole said sadly.

  For some time Lisa, Carole, and Stevie had been spending every minute of their spare time together, riding horses and helping each other solve problems. Lately, after Lisa had landed the lead role in Annie, Stevie and Carole had worried that their friend would forget about The Saddle Club and riding at Pine Hollow, and spend all her time on acting.

  “Bravo,” the audience shouted as the curtain fell. The crowd stood and began stampeding toward the stage door. The local theater’s production of Annie had been a giant hit, and Lisa herself had been a megahit.

  By the time the girls finished battling through the crowd and had reached the dressing room where the actors were meeting their public, Carole’s black hair was escaping from her headband, and her silver Saddle Club pin was crooked. Meanwhile Stevie was rubbing her elbow. A man had zonked her on the arm with his briefcase.

  But Lisa was totally composed, smiling under her red Annie wig, and looking totally adorable in her red Annie dress.

  Stevie put her arms around Lisa and hugged her. “You were fantastic.”

  Carole joined the hug. “You were great in last week’s dress rehearsal,” she added, “but this afternoon you were astounding. The Saddle Club is proud of you.”

  Lisa sighed and suddenly looked sad, which was the last thing Carole expected.

  “What’s the matter?” Carole said. “You got three standing ovations and you feel sad?”

  “It’s over,” Lisa said. “This Sunday matinee is the last performance.” Lisa looked so miserable that Carole and Stevie had to laugh.

  “It looks like you think there’s no life after Annie,” Carole said. “What about The Saddle Club?”

  “Remember how you missed us?” Stevie joked. “Remember how you used to save as many as three or four minutes for us at a time?” During rehearsals for Annie, Lisa had gotten a little carried away with scheduling herself and organizing her time. She was always efficient and very self-disciplined, but this time she had started scheduling four-minute meetings with her best friends so that she could do two things that were important to her: rehearse for Annie and prepare for a Pony Club rally at Pine Hollow Stables. Finally Carole and Stevie had realized Lisa needed their help. They suggested that Lisa become stable manager for the Horse Wise team instead of ride in the rally, and that had helped her concentrate on Annie. In the weeks since then, Carole and Stevie had been looking forward to spending more time with Lisa.

  “I mean, I knew Annie would be over,” Lisa went on, “but now it’s really over, if you see what I mean.”

  For the usually clear-headed and precise Lisa, who always got straight A’s, this was such a muddled thing to say that Stevie and Carole exchanged worried looks.

  “Don’t you miss Prancer?” Stevie said, referring to the beautiful Thoroughbred at Pine Hollow Stables that Lisa had been working with. “Forget Prancer,” Stevie wailed a second later. “Don’t you miss us?”

  “You know I do,” Lisa said. “Actually, I’ve been counting the days.” She pulled off her red wig and said, “I’m going riding tomorrow.” And with that she burst into the first line of the famous song from Annie, “Tomorrow.”

  “I hate to tell you this,” Carole said, “but even big stars have to go to school. And tomorrow is Monday, and so far as I know, Willow Creek Junior High is planning to be open tomorrow, and Monday is always a monster homework night.”

  “So I’ll go riding in Max’s class on Tuesday. That is, if I remember how to ride,” Lisa said with a grin.

  Max Regnery was the manager of Pine Hollow Stables, where the girls rode, and also their riding instructor.

  “I hate to tell you this,” Stevie said, “but some people have fright wigs. You, on the other hand, have fright hair.”

  Lisa turned to look at herself in the mirror a
nd saw that her brown hair, which had been flattened under the wig, was now sticking up in stiff spikes. “Hey,” she said, pulling at one of the spikes. “I may have a new career as a punk rocker.”

  “Don’t quit your day job,” said Stevie, smiling at the thought of the neat, responsible Lisa suddenly becoming a rock star.

  “I don’t know about that. Lisa has a lot of talent, and she can do just about anything she wants,” said the girl next to Lisa at the makeup table. She was Hollie Bright, Lisa’s best friend in the cast of Annie. Now Hollie looked Hire a weird white monster because she had covered her face with cold cream.

  “Who’s this?” Stevie said. “The Abominable Snowperson?”

  “Very funny, Stevie,” Hollie said. “You’d better get your makeup off right away, Lisa. Pancake makeup can really wreck your skin. I know from experience that if I don’t take it off right away, I break out in blotches.”

  “Okay,” Lisa agreed, turning in one of the canvas chairs to face the makeup mirror. She dipped two fingers into an industrial-size jar of cold cream and sat looking at herself, the glob of cold cream only inches from her face. “Good-bye, Annie,” she said to her face in the mirror. “Good-bye, stardom.” She looked behind her at a couple of orphans who were taking off their rags, and at Daddy Warbucks, who was stripping off his bald pate, revealing a full head of hair underneath. The play was definitely over. She hated to see the actors turn back into ordinary people.

  Lisa looked over at Hollie, who was carefully wiping around her nose with a piece of tissue. Hollie went to Lisa’s school, Willow Creek Junior High, and they had kind of known each other before, but when Lisa had joined the cast at Willow Creek Community Theater, they had become fast friends. Hollie, who’d had lots of acting, dancing, and singing lessons—and plenty of stage experience—had been Lisa’s “stage coach,” teaching her the meaning of strange theatrical terms like “torch carrier.” Now that the play was over, Lisa was disappointed that she wouldn’t be seeing as much of the other girl.

  Suddenly she had an inspiration.

  “Why don’t you come riding with us, Hollie?” Lisa asked eagerly. “Pine Hollow has lots of horses, and I’m sure Max can find one that’s right for you.” Max was an ace at helping new riders.

  Hollie looked over at her gratefully, and Lisa guessed that she must have been suffering from an after-show letdown, too.

  “I’m not a total beginner,” Hollie said, applying a fresh layer of cold cream to her face. “I had lessons for a couple of years when I was eight or nine.”

  Knowing that Hollie had a knack for dancing, and that she was a fast learner, Lisa figured that she had the potential to be an excellent rider. The first time Lisa went riding at Pine Hollow Stables, she had expected to be a total flop, but she had managed to stay on her horse and even ride half-decently, because she’d had years of ballet lessons.

  “So why did you give up riding?” Lisa asked. “I bet you were terrific.”

  Hollie shrugged. “The demands of my art, darling,” she joked. “My Muse was jealous. She wouldn’t let me ride.”

  “The next class is on Tuesday,” Stevie said to Hollie. “Get your mother to call Max Regnery to make arrangements. It’s lots of fun. You’ll already know the three of us.”

  “I’m not sure I even remember how to mount a horse,” Hollie admitted.

  “You face the horse’s tail, take the reins, and grasp the horse’s mane with your left hand, and then you reach for the stirrup with your right. You put your foot in the stirrup and reach with your right hand for the saddle,” said Carole.

  Stevie and Lisa exchanged grins. Once again Carole had launched into a major lecture on a topic involving horses. Their friend could never resist a chance to share all the things she knew, because she loved horses so much, and she simply assumed that everyone shared her enthusiasm. Carole was the most experienced member of The Saddle Club. She had even been an assistant to Judy Barker, Pine Hollow’s veterinarian.

  “I know, I know!” Hollie cried, holding up a hand to halt Carole’s explanation. Lisa had already clued her in to Carole’s tendency to act like a professor of horse-ology. “I just mean that it’s been a while.”

  “Lisa only started riding recently,” Carole said. “You wouldn’t believe how quickly she’s learned. Dedication and concentration are essential. I have a couple of books I could lend you.”

  “A truck will pull up to your house tomorrow,” Stevie joked.

  “Okay,” Hollie said. “Now I can’t wait till Tuesday. I envy you guys so much. You always have something to talk about.”

  “Horses!” Stevie said. “Is there anything else? I mean, what do other people talk about?”

  “Listen,” Lisa said, “I’ve got a great idea. Why don’t we go over to TD’s and talk about horses? I know Hollie likes it.” TD’s was the Tastee Delight Ice Cream Parlor at the local shopping center, and the place where The Saddle Club most frequently held Saddle Club meetings.

  “Best of all, we’ll be able to see what kind of mind-boggling concoction Stevie orders,” Hollie said. Last time Stevie had ordered a sundae with fifteen ingredients, which must have been a record for TD’s.

  “We’ll fill you in on the horses at Pine Hollow,” Carole said.

  “You showed me the ropes in the theater,” Lisa said, putting her arm through Hollie’s. “Now it’s only fair I show you the ropes at Pine Hollow Stables—the lead rope, the tether.…”

  Stevie groaned. “I’m going to miss this fantastic discussion.”

  “You’re not coming?” Hollie said, looking disappointed.

  “I’d love to,” Stevie said. “But I promised Phil I’d do something else.”

  Phil Marsten was Stevie’s boyfriend. He was a rider at Cross County Stables, which was about a half hour away from Pine Hollow.

  Carole’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, yeah?”

  Stevie blushed. “He invited me for dinner and then to go for a trail ride with his Pony Club,” she replied. “This may be the last nice fall weekend, so we’re taking advantage of it.”

  “Poor you!” Carole said sarcastically. “Riding under a harvest moon. It sounds practically unbearable.”

  “It’s rough,” Stevie said, her blue eyes gleaming. “But someone’s got to do it.”

  “IT’S THE BIGGEST moon I ever saw,” Stevie said to Phil as she stared dreamily at the red harvest moon hanging over the trees in the darkening sky. The Marstens had just finished dinner, and now Stevie and Phil were walking toward the Marstens’ stable.

  “The moon always appears bigger when it’s close to the earth,” said Phil. With his head tipped back to see the moon, and his green eyes shining, Phil looked even more handsome than usual, Stevie thought.

  “How come?” she asked.

  “Because you can see its huge size compared to things on earth, like trees, or the weather vane on top of the stable.” Phil pointed to the vane on top of the Marstens’ stable. It was in the shape of a galloping horse, and in the light of early evening the horse on the vane seemed to be galloping directly toward the big red moon.

  “I don’t mean to bring up a sore subject,” said Stevie, looking up at the moon, “but is Teddy spooked by a full moon?” She was remembering that on the last Mountain Trail Overnight, or MTO, Phil’s horse, Teddy, had been spooked by almost everything. Teddy was a great horse in the ring or the barn. He was a handsome bay gelding with plenty of power and finesse. But he could be a real wild card out on the trail, and tonight, under a full moon, with the forest full of strange shapes … She didn’t like to think about it.

  “No problem,” Phil said. “Mr. Baker told me how to cure Teddy of the spooks.” Mr. Baker was the owner and riding instructor at Cross County Stables. “He said that Teddy had a phobia, which is like an allergy of the mind.”

  Stevie nodded. “I know about phobias. My brother Chad claims he has homework phobia, which prevents him from getting the A’s he feels he’s entitled to.”

  Phil grinned. �
��Sounds logical. I’m not sure I can cure homework phobia, but Mr. Baker’s prescription for Teddy worked. I took him out at sunset in small doses—at first five minutes, then ten minutes, building up to longer periods.”

  “How did Teddy feel about this?” Stevie asked. “I can’t imagine he liked being part of a scientific experiment.”

  Phil shrugged. “I think Teddy understood. He doesn’t want to be left behind when I go on trail rides, so he figured he’d have to learn how to cope with surprises on the trail. It was a trade-off.”

  “A horse trade,” Stevie mused as Phil pushed the sliding barn door open. It screeched noisily. “When are you going to get those wheels fixed?” Stevie asked.

  “The same day the Marstens get a new pickup truck,” Phil said with a grin. The Marstens liked old—if not ramshackle—things. Their pickup truck could be heard blocks away, and their barn, which was a grand old barn with crossed beams on the doors and a Civil War weather vane, had needed a paint job for as long as Stevie had known Phil.

  “Ready to meet your mount?” Phil said.

  “You bet,” she declared eagerly. It was always exciting to meet a new horse, but this horse was especially exciting because Phil had been dropping hints about her all week. This horse, according to Phil, was strong but responsive, brave but canny, spirited but affectionate.

  Phil unlatched the stall next to Teddy’s and said to Stevie, “Wait out here. I have to get her ready for you.”

  “Sure,” Stevie said, standing back. She knew that it was important to approach a horse the right way. If you got off on the wrong foot with a horse, it could take weeks to get in her good graces—if you ever did.

  She could see the horse’s dark tail switch back and forth as Phil said something to her. Not that horses can understand English, as Max was always pointing out. Stevie grinned when she realized that Phil was talking to the horse in horse latin. It was Phil’s theory that horses may not understand English, but they do understand pig latin, or horse latin.

  “Eshay aymay eemsay otay ebay a ittlelay uttynay, utbay eshay siay kayoay,” Phil was saying to the horse. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Stevie understood that horse latin was formed by moving the first letter of a word to its end and adding an ay so she could tell what Phil was saying—she (Stevie) may be a little nutty, but she is okay.