Gold Medal Rider Read online

  MEET

  THE SADDLE CLUB

  Horse lover CAROLE …

  Practical joker STEVIE …

  Straight-A LISA …

  #1: HORSE CRAZY

  #2: HORSE SHY

  #3: HORSE SENSE

  #4: HORSE POWER

  #5: TRAIL MATES

  #6: DUDE RANCH

  #7: HORSE PLAY

  #8: HORSE SHOW

  #9: HOOF BEAT

  #10: RIDING CAMP

  #11: HORSE WISE

  #12: RODEO RIDER

  #13: STARLIGHT CHRISTMAS

  #14: SEA HORSE

  #15: TEAM PLAY

  #16: HORSE GAMES

  #17: HORSENAPPED

  #18: PACK TRIP

  #19: STAR RIDER

  #20: SNOW RIDE

  #21: RACEHORSE

  #22: FOX HUNT

  #23: HORSE TROUBLE

  #24: GHOST RIDER

  #25: SHOW HORSE

  #26: BEACH RIDE

  #27: BRIDLE PATH

  #28: STABLE MANNERS

  #29: RANCH HANDS

  #30: AUTUMN TRAIL

  #31: HAYRIDE

  #32: CHOCOLATE HORSE

  #33: HIGH HORSE

  #34: HAY FEVER

  #35: HORSE TALE

  #36: RIDING LESSON

  #37: STAGE COACH

  #38: HORSE TRADE

  #39: PUREBRED

  #40: GIFT HORSE

  #41: STABLE WITCH

  #42: SADDLEBAGS

  #43: PHOTO FINISH

  #44: HORSESHOE

  #45: STABLE GROOM

  #46: FLYING HORSE

  #47: HORSE MAGIC

  #48: MYSTERY RIDE

  #49: STABLE FAREWELL

  #50: YANKEE SWAP

  #51: PLEASURE HORSE

  #52: RIDING CLASS

  #53: HORSE-SITTERS

  #54: GOLD MEDAL RIDER

  THE SADDLE CLUB SUPER EDITIONS

  #1: A SUMMER WITHOUT HORSES

  #2: THE SECRET OF THE STALLION

  #3: WESTERN STAR

  RIDING A CHAMPION

  Kate let Southwood canter a few strides, then put him back into a trot. She turned him toward a giant log.

  “She can’t jump that from a trot,” Stevie said anxiously. “It looks four feet tall.”

  But Kate knew she could. Southwood trotted up and over the log as though it were a cross rail. Kate halted him and began to quietly walk him up the hill to the stable, her face beaming with joy.

  “It’s been so long!” she called to Beatrice. “And it felt so good! Thank you.”

  Beatrice smiled again, a sharp smile. “Why don’t you ride Southwood this weekend?” she asked, her voice ringing out across the yard.

  Kate gasped. That bank jump she had just taken had been perfect, absolutely perfect, and Southwood was a wonderful horse. She would only ride in this one show. It didn’t have to be the way it was before.

  “Oh, Kate,” Carole said, her face aglow with happiness for her friend. “You should do it.”

  “We’ll help you,” Lisa promised.

  “All right,” Kate said. “I will.”

  RL 5, 009–012

  GOLD MEDAL RIDER

  A Bantam Skylark Book / May 1996

  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 © 1996 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: 978-0-307-82552-0

  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 Kimberly Brubaker Bradley for her help in the writing of this book.

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books in This Series

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgment

  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

  Chapter 14

  About the Author

  Gold Medal Riders

  “THANKS, MOM!” STEVIE LAKE shut the car door and ran through the warm spring rain to the front door of her best friend Lisa Atwood’s house. Carole Hanson, Stevie’s other best friend, followed close on her heels.

  “Whew!” The girls reached the shelter of the Atwoods’ front porch. Carole shook raindrops from her black hair. “Do you think Lisa’s expecting us?” She rang the doorbell.

  “We haven’t missed a day yet, have we? I hope she’s feeling better.” Lisa had come down with chicken pox exactly one week earlier. She woke up on a Saturday morning, covered with spots and scratching. Stevie and Carole had both already had chicken pox, so they could visit Lisa without worrying about catching it.

  “Come on in, girls,” Mrs. Atwood told them when she opened the door. “Lisa’s in her room. I was just about to make her some lunch. Have you eaten?”

  “We’re fine, Mrs. Atwood,” Carole said politely. “We came straight from Pine Hollow, and we brought our sandwiches with us. We decided not to stay after the Horse Wise meeting.” Pine Hollow was the stable where all three girls took riding lessons and where Stevie and Carole boarded their horses. Horse Wise, the Pony Club where they learned about horses and riding, met there on Saturday mornings. Usually Stevie, Carole, and Lisa ate lunch at the stable and rode all afternoon.

  Stevie nodded in agreement. Reaching under her rain poncho, she opened the backpack she’d been keeping dry, and pulled out a brown paper bag. It was smushed into the shape of a Frisbee, and something purple dripped from one corner. Stevie grimaced and quickly put the sack back. She must have sat on it during Horse Wise.

  “That’s okay,” Carole said, “I’ll share.” She confidently patted the pocket of her raincoat, but as she did so her face fell. Her pocket was empty. She tried to remember where she’d left her lunch. She had been in her horse’s stall when Stevie called out that her mother was there to give them a ride to Lisa’s. Carole remembered opening her lunch bag, giving Starlight an apple, and setting the rest of the lunch down to give the gelding a big hug. Her lunch was still in Starlight’s stall. “I hope Starlight likes tuna salad,” she said ruefully.

  Mrs. Atwood smiled. “Never mind, girls, I’ll fix you something, too. Go cheer up Lisa.”

  Stevie and Carole thanked her and hurried upstairs. “Isn’t that just like us!” Stevie exclaimed. “We need Lisa around to keep us straightened out.”

  The three friends complement
ed each other well. They all loved horses and riding, but otherwise they were quite different. Lisa was logical and coolheaded. She hadn’t been riding as long as the others, but she worked very hard at it and was doing well. Stevie was serious about only one thing—horses. She treated the rest of life as if it were one big practical joke. Even though Lisa and Carole sometimes had to fish her out of her own hot water, they agreed that life was more exciting with Stevie around.

  Carole was the best rider among them. She knew she’d make horses her life—someday, somehow. She tried hard to learn absolutely everything about them; and because she was so focused on them, she often forgot other things. Leaving her lunch behind was typical.

  When the three friends were together, they made a great team, and they knew it. They had formed The Saddle Club, dedicated to horses, riding, and each other. Members had to be horse-crazy and always ready to help one another.

  Carole knocked softly on Lisa’s bedroom door. “It’s us,” she said.

  “Come in.” Lisa was slumped in the pink armchair between her bed and a window. She was wearing a raggedy old pair of sweats and looked cross and disgruntled. Her face and hands were covered with red scabs.

  “I felt glad this morning because it was raining and I knew you wouldn’t be able to ride, so you would come see me,” Lisa said as her friends took off their rain gear. “Then I felt horrible for wanting the rain to spoil your fun. Then I felt glad again, because I’m tired of being home and I wanted someone to talk to. And then I felt horrible, because what I really want to do is go riding with you guys. I’m sorry it rained!”

  Carole and Stevie both gave her a hug. “Which are you now?” Stevie asked. “Glad or horrible?”

  “Both.” Lisa crossed her arms over her chest. She looked wretched.

  “The pox will go away soon,” Stevie pointed out. “The doctor said you might be able to ride next week.”

  “Maybe I’ll get to ride,” Lisa said. “But the pox won’t go away soon. I’m going to look crusty for a month.”

  Stevie raised an eyebrow. “That could be an asset,” she said seriously. “Simon Atherton asked about you after Pony Club. He seemed really concerned.”

  Lisa and Carole giggled. Simon was a dorky boy who rode at Pine Hollow. Lisa would be glad for anything that would keep Simon from following her around.

  “Don’t let Stevie scare you, Lisa,” Carole said. “I don’t think Simon’s really interested in you. He’s still mooning over Veronica.”

  “Sometimes Simon reminds me of Drew,” Stevie said thoughtfully. “Nice, but dorky.” Drew was a groom who worked for friends of theirs, Dorothy DeSoto and Nigel Hawthorne.

  “Drew’s not dorky!” Lisa protested. “He’s practically a grown-up, anyway. How can you call him that when he loves horses so much?”

  “He’s a dork-head,” Stevie persisted.

  “Speaking of dork-heads,” Carole cut in, “Stevie’s got something that should really cheer you up.” She sat down on the edge of Lisa’s bed.

  “That’s right!” Stevie dug into her backpack and pulled out a large envelope, which she tossed onto Lisa’s lap. “It only took me five months to remember to get them developed. Pictures!”

  “Of our trip to North Carolina?” Lisa ripped open the envelope. Stevie and Carole exchanged grins. It was the first time they’d seen Lisa act enthusiastic all week.

  “Oh, look! Here’s one of Dorothy and Nigel!” Lisa held up a snapshot of an attractive couple sitting on a hay bale.

  Carole took the photo from Lisa and studied it closely. Dorothy was Carole’s hero. She had started riding at Pine Hollow, just like The Saddle Club. She had grown up to be a famous rider, and had been at the top of her professional career when a freak accident left her unable to show. Now she was married to a British event rider, Nigel Hawthorne. The couple trained horses and riders at their farm on Long Island in the summer and in Southern Pines, North Carolina, in the winter. The Saddle Club had visited them in Southern Pines several months earlier.

  “Here’s grumpy Beatrice,” said Stevie, pointing to a picture of one of Dorothy and Nigel’s students. “She’s not smiling in any of them.”

  “Typical,” Lisa remarked. “I’m really sorry about what happened to her, but it wouldn’t have hurt her to smile once in a while.”

  “Here’s Drew with that dopey look on his face. Looks like he’s admiring you,” Carole said, pulling a photo off the pile and handing it to Lisa.

  “He’s not admiring me,” Lisa protested, looking at the picture. “He’s admiring Southwood. And you shouldn’t call him dopey—”

  “Dorky,” murmured Stevie.

  “He’s nice and I like him,” Lisa said firmly. “He’s a friend.”

  Stevie grinned wryly. “I know. He is nice. He’s just such an easy target!”

  “Look,” Carole cut in. “It’s Kate and Southwood!” Kate Devine was the fourth member of The Saddle Club. She lived out West on a ranch with her parents, but she had gone with the other girls to North Carolina. Southwood was a championship horse, and Kate had been lucky enough to ride him in a competition there.

  The three bent over the photograph. “Wow!” Lisa said. “It’s amazing!” She turned her bedside lamp on and held the photo under it. “Kate’s position is perfect, and you can tell what a huge effort Southwood made over the fence.”

  “Look at Kate’s expression,” Carole added. “Look how determined she looks.”

  “I sure hope Southwood makes it to the Olympics some day,” Stevie said. “We’ll be able to say we knew him before he was famous.”

  Lisa brushed her hair from her face and smiled. “Boy,” she said, “that was a great trip.” The girls sat back with contented sighs. They could remember everything as clearly as if it had just happened.…

  The Previous November …

  A COLD WIND blew the last autumn leaves off the trees that lined the road. “It’s not fair!” Stevie’s twin brother, Alex, repeated. Stevie ignored him. Her mother’s car bounced along the gravel road toward Willow Creek’s small airport and pulled up next to the tiny terminal. Lisa and Carole and their parents were standing outside.

  “At last!” Stevie got out of the car and waved to the others. She had thought she would be late for sure. Her mother had had a meeting after work, Stevie couldn’t find her second-best breeches, and at the last minute Alex had insisted on coming with them. Stevie was convinced that he only wanted to come so that he could whine all the way there. Sometimes she really liked having Alex for a twin. This was not one of those times.

  Stevie pulled her duffel bag out of the trunk. Alex grabbed her backpack. “Careful with that,” Stevie told him. “It’s got my camera in it.”

  “I can’t believe you get to miss school,” Alex grumbled. “It’s not fair!”

  “Your sister did very well on her report card this quarter,” Mrs. Lake said, closing the trunk and putting her arm around Stevie’s shoulders, “and she hasn’t been sick once this year. Missing one day of school isn’t going to hurt her.”

  Stevie grinned at Alex. She had no idea why her report card was so good—her teachers did seem to have a sense of humor this year, which helped—but she was pretty relieved about it. Usually her report card skirted right on the edge of disaster—disaster being any grade below a C, because if she got one of those she wasn’t allowed to ride. This term—wonder of wonders—Stevie had gotten nothing below a B. Two teachers had even seen fit to give her As!

  It was a Thursday evening in late November, and the next day there was a countywide teacher’s convention, so all the schools would be closed. By missing school on Monday, The Saddle Club would get to spend four days with Dorothy and Nigel in Southern Pines.

  Stevie hurried to join her friends, who stood near the end of the runway. Colonel Hanson, Carole’s father, checked his watch. “Any minute now,” he murmured.

  “Lisa, dear,” said Lisa’s mother, “did you remember to pack a nice dress for evenings?”

&nbs
p; Lisa didn’t answer. Stevie could tell from the look on Lisa’s face that she had not packed a nice dress. Neither had Stevie. No way would they need dresses, nice or otherwise, around Dorothy and Nigel.

  “I hope you brought your blue one,” Mrs. Atwood said. “It’s so nice for fall. It might be chilly in the evenings, you know, even in North Carolina.”

  “I know, Mom.” Lisa sighed. She was trying hard to ignore her mother’s questions without seeming rude. Clothes were important to Mrs. Atwood, and horses were something she did not understand. Sometimes Lisa and her mother seemed exactly opposite.

  She thought for a moment. Her blue dress was with her other dresses, hanging in her closet at home, but where were her muck boots? Suddenly she was afraid she’d forgotten them, and she would need them when she helped Dorothy and Nigel clean stalls.

  Lisa dropped to her knees and unzipped her duffel bag. She searched through it quickly—riding boots, hard hat, crop. All her gear took up so much space. Aha! Here were her muck boots—only they were still mucky. Lisa looked at the dried dirt crumbing onto her sweaters and smiled to herself. Where she was going, no one would notice a little dirt—or even a lot of it. She zipped her duffel.

  “All set, dear?” asked her mother.

  “All set, Mom,” Lisa assured her. It was true, too, even though Lisa and her mother had different definitions of “all set.”

  Carole squeezed Lisa’s arm. “I just remembered something,” she whispered. “I forgot my toothbrush!”

  Lisa laughed. “Again?” Carole always left something behind. One summer she’d gone by herself to visit Dorothy and Nigel on Long Island. She’d forgotten her toothbrush then, too. It was like old times.

  “I’m sure you can buy a toothbrush in Southern Pines,” Stevie said, moving to Carole’s side. “Look! Isn’t that the plane?” The three friends stood shoulder to shoulder, watching a small light in the evening dusk grow bigger as it approached them.

  “That’s it!” Colonel Hanson said. “You girls be nice to Kate’s father now, and stay out of his way on that plane. Don’t drive the businessmen crazy.”

  “I wonder if any of them ride?” Carole asked mischievously. “If not, we could tell them what they’re missing.”