Lucky Horse
STORM ON THE MOUNTAIN
“Oh, no!” Carole heard her father cry.
“What?” She was barely able to make herself heard above the wind and rain.
“We must have gotten disoriented when we got up so fast,” he called, his voice now hoarse from yelling. “The trail’s over there, right across from where we just were.”
Carole’s heart skittered with fear. “You mean we’re going to have to cross the mountaintop again?”
Her father looked down at her and grinned. “Are you with me, kiddo?” he asked softly.
Carole only nodded. She was afraid that if she spoke out loud he’d know how scared she was.
Colonel Hanson waited until a clap of thunder rolled away, then stepped out from the shelter of the skinny trees. Again they had to bend at the waist and throw themselves into the wind.
They had almost reached the middle of the mountaintop when suddenly the sky lit up as if a million fireworks had all exploded. A crash of thunder like no other boomed across Carole’s ears. The earth itself seemed to tremble beneath her feet. The sky went bright, then dark; then she couldn’t see anything. Where was her father? He had been there just a moment before. Then the sky lit up again, and she saw his crumpled form.
“Dad!” she screamed.
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HORSE CRAZY (The Saddle Club #1) by Bonnie Bryant
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Special thanks to Laura Roper of Sir “B” Farms
RL 5, 009-012
LUCKY HORSE
A Bantam Skylark Book / September 1999
Skylark Book is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Random House, 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 © 1999 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: 978-0-307-82592-6
Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada.
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House, 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 Sallie Bissell for her
help in the writing of this book.
Contents
Cover
Other Books You Will Enjoy
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
Other Books in This Series
“I’LL HAVE ONE scoop of strawberry with mint syrup one scoop of pistachio with cherry syrup, and one scoop of fudge brownie with those bright orange sprinkles.” Stevie Lake looked up at the waitress and grinned. “We’re celebrating today.”
“Uh-huh.” The Tastee Delight waitress scribbled on her pad and frowned. “Was that fudge brownie with orange sprinkles or pistachio with orange sprinkles?”
“Fudge brownie,” Stevie explained. “Cherry syrup on the pistachio.”
“Okay.” The waitress looked at Stevie in wonder. “Coming up.”
Carole Hanson and Lisa Atwood, Stevie’s two best friends, watched the waitress walk back to the counter. Then they both leaned over the table.
“What are we celebrating today, Stevie?” Carole whispered. “International Make Yourself Sick with Ice Cream Day?”
“Yeah, Stevie,” said Lisa. “I thought this was just a regular day. We’re sitting in our usual booth with our usual waitress, who took your usual unusual order.”
Stevie grinned, then sighed. “I guess we’re celebrating the last Saddle Club meeting before you-know-what starts.”
Lisa and Carole stared at Stevie. The girls were all members of The Saddle Club, a club they had started some time before when they had first met at Pine Hollow Stables. The only rules of the club were that members had to be crazy about horses and had to help each other out at all times. Since the three spent most of their time together, around horses, and since practical joker Stevie was the main source of most of the troubles that they needed to solve together, obeying the club rules was not a problem. In fact, they enjoyed it.
“That’s right,” Carole said sadly. “School. I almost forgot. I like school well enough, but it doesn’t compare to spending every day at the stable!”
“I know.” Lisa nodded. “Now we won’t be able to ride morning and afternoon. Or feed or water or groom our horses every time they need it. We’ll have to sit at a desk all day instead of in a saddle.”
“Please,” Stevie groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
Lisa smiled. “I’ve gotten to love being with horses so much this summer that I even like cleaning up after them. I never knew Calypso and Doc that well, but after three months of mucking out their stalls, I feel really close to them.”
“Gosh, Lisa,” Stevie said with a laugh. “Mucking out stalls is getting a little too close to a horse for my taste.”
Just then the waitress appeared with their order. She put chocolate shakes in front of Carole and Lisa and a huge multicolored platter of ice cream, sprinkles, and sauce in front of Stevie.
“Enjoy,” she said, shaking her head as she went to take an order from the next booth.
“Enjoy?” shrieked Carole, her deep brown eyes growing wide at the sight of Stevie’s platter.
“Yeah, Stevie,” Lisa said. “This is a new height, or maybe depth, for you.”
Stevie shrugged. “I’ve got to do something to cheer myself up.”
“Anyway, like I was saying, I’ve just gotten to know so many of the horses so much better.” Lisa sipped her milk shake. She was the least experienced rider of the three, but she was catching up fast. “I’m not even afraid of being around Danny anymore. Even after we took him to the dance, I still got nervous around him. I was always worried that something might happen to him and I’d get blamed. After all, he is valuable. But he’s such a nice horse.”
“Too bad you can’t say the same for his owner! Anyway, Danny’s not the one you should be afraid of,” said Carole, giggling. “Veronica is.” Veronica di-Angelo was Danny’s owner, and also the richest, snootiest girl at Pine Hollow. She’d gotten The Saddle Club into trouble more than once.
“I feel sor
ry for Danny.” Stevie swirled a bite of pistachio ice cream around in cherry sauce. “Veronica loves the way Danny can make her look good at a horse show, but she doesn’t really appreciate him as a horse.”
“You know he hasn’t been ridden in over a week?” Lisa said. “Veronica’s been too busy shopping in Washington for her fall wardrobe.”
Carole frowned. “I thought Red O’Malley was supposed to be riding him.”
“Veronica’s furious with Red. She accused him of getting a scratch on her new French saddle and told him not to go near Danny again,” Lisa reported. “Now, because Danny’s been neglected, he’s got some kind of problem with his right front leg. He’s got a bandage on it and can’t be ridden for at least another week. I saw him in the back paddock. Red’s longeing him every day.”
“Poor horse.” Carole shook her head. “He must have been foaled under an unlucky star to get an owner like Veronica.”
“Danny’s about as unlucky as our horses are lucky,” Stevie mumbled through a mouthful of strawberry ice cream.
“What did you say?” Carole asked.
“I said our horses are lucky. We treat them like royalty. We groom them and water them and love them and ride them almost every day. And now Lisa even loves to muck out their stalls! I mean, how much luckier can three horses get?”
“I guess you’re right, Stevie,” Carole laughed. “Although I hadn’t quite thought of it that way.”
Carole and Lisa finished their shakes while Stevie worked on her ice cream. “I’ve been thinking,” Stevie said as she started on her last scoop, the fudge brownie covered in orange sprinkles.
“Uh-oh,” said Carole. “When you start thinking, I get worried.”
“No, really.” Stevie swallowed one orange-and-black spoonful in a single gulp. “Since Friday starts our final weekend of freedom, why don’t we spend the whole time at Pine Hollow? We can go over there early Friday morning and not go home till late Monday afternoon.”
“You mean spend three nights there?” Lisa asked excitedly.
“Sure. We could bring food and sodas and our sleeping bags and camp out in the hayloft right above our horses. It would be neat. Like one big sleepover with Belle, Starlight, and Prancer.”
Carole frowned. “Do you think Max would let us?”
“I bet he would if we asked him nicely.” Stevie stopped eating for a moment and brushed one tousled, honey-colored lock off her forehead. “I mean, we’d probably have to volunteer to do some extra chores around the barn, but who cares? We love doing those things anyway. It wouldn’t be like work at all.”
“That sounds like fun.” Lisa’s blue eyes grew dreamy. “Living above a horse is about as close to one as you can get.”
“Okay,” Carole agreed. “Let’s meet at Pine Hollow tomorrow and try to convince Max.”
“Good idea,” said Stevie, scraping up her last bite of ice cream. “How can he possibly turn us down if all three of us wonderful, beautiful young riders are there begging him?”
“I can’t imagine, Stevie,” Carole laughed as they scooted out of the booth and walked over to the cash register. “How could he say no to anyone who can eat fudge brownie ice cream sprinkled with orange dots?”
The girls paid their bill, then agreed to meet at the stable at ten the next morning. Carole waved as Stevie and Lisa began to walk toward their homes; then she turned and hurried to the bus stop in front of the shopping center. She and her dad, who was a colonel in the Marine Corps, lived farther away from Pine Hollow than her friends, and Carole often had to take a bus ride before she could take a horseback ride.
The bus soon came, and after a twenty-minute jaunt across the little town of Willow Creek, Carole stood at her front door.
I’d better hurry, she thought, turning her key in the lock. It’s my turn to start dinner, and Dad will be home soon. She pushed open the door. The house seemed emptier than it ever had before. Since Carole’s mother had died some time ago, her father had always done his best to be home when she got back from the stable. Lately, though, he’d been busy with a new satellite communications project for the Marines, and the job had required extra hours at work. Carole knew it was necessary, but she still missed hearing him clattering around in the kitchen when she returned home.
“Oh, well,” she said to herself as she took off her boots and padded sock-footed into the kitchen. “Thank goodness these special projects don’t last forever.”
She opened the refrigerator and looked inside, wondering what they could have for dinner. There was some leftover pot roast, some uncooked hamburger, plus a big bowl of macaroni and cheese.
Maybe I’ll reheat the roast, Carole thought. And then cook some extra vegetables to go along with it. She put the meat in the oven to heat, then looked in the crisper to see what vegetables they had. Broccoli, lettuce, and carrots. She pulled out the carrots. They were exactly the same color as the sprinkles Stevie had just eaten on her ice cream.
“At least they’ll be better for us.” She laughed aloud as she closed the refrigerator door. She had just begun to peel the carrots over the sink when she heard a car pull into their driveway. Her father, Colonel Mitch Hanson, was home.
“Hi, sugar,” he called, grinning as he peeked into the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Hi, Dad. How are you?” Carole smiled back at him over her shoulder.
“Other than being late, I’m great. How are you?” He threw a Marine Corps duffel bag on one kitchen chair and strode over to the sink, planting a kiss on the top of her head.
“Fine. Just peeling some carrots for dinner.”
“How about if I help?” He opened a drawer and pulled out another vegetable peeler, then stood beside Carole at the sink. “In fact, how about we make a deal? If I help you peel all these carrots, then will you promise not to cook them?”
“Not cook them?” Carole looked up at her dad.
“Right.” He held up one carrot. “I mean, wouldn’t it be a shame to put this little defenseless carrot into a big pot of boiling water?” He put the carrot close to his ear. “I can even hear it calling—‘Please don’t cook me, Carole.’ ”
“Okay, Dad,” Carole laughed. “I get the point. You prefer carrots raw.”
“Absolutely.” Colonel Hanson grinned and took a bite of crunchy carrot. “I mean, why try to improve upon perfection?”
“Okay. I guess that means we’ll have pot roast and macaroni and cheese and raw carrots tonight.”
“Sounds great to me.” Colonel Hanson took another bite of carrot. “Hey, guess what?”
“What?
“You know how much I’ve had to work these last few weeks, ever since the Link Life project started? Coming home late and going in to work early?”
Carole nodded. She knew how much she’d missed spending time with her father and how much he’d hated to be away.
“Well, Link Life is almost finished. As of sixteen hundred hours tomorrow, your old dad will be back.”
“That’s wonderful, Dad!” Carole turned to her father and gave him a hug. “I’ve really missed having you here when I get back from the stable.”
“And guess what else?”
Carole blinked. It seemed like her dad was getting as bad as Stevie in the “guess what” department. “What?”
“General Williams was so pleased with all we’ve accomplished that he gave me a four-day weekend off, beginning Friday.”
“Super!” Carole hugged her father harder.
“And guess what else else?”
Carole couldn’t help laughing. “What now, Dad?”
“I’ve arranged for just the two of us to go up to one of the national wilderness areas in the Blue Ridge Mountains. My old buddy Colonel Cheatham is going to lend us his tent and all his new solar camping equipment.”
Carole frowned. “His solar camping equipment?”
“Yeah. It’s great. We won’t have to stay in any cabins or motels. We can rough it just like the pioneers, but we’ll be comfo
rtable and we’ll be in one of America’s most beautiful forests. Doesn’t that sound great?”
Carole looked up at her father. A wide grin was spreading across his face. “Gosh, Dad, you know I love to camp.”
“And I like spending time with my favorite daughter,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “And what better place to do it than out in nature, surrounded by the latest in camping equipment?”
She smiled. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right.”
“I knew you’d be excited. Let me go change out of this uniform, and then I’ll help you finish dinner.”
Carole turned back to the sink as her father hurried out of the kitchen. She picked up another carrot and began peeling it, then sighed. Why did all the fun things in life always seem to happen at the same time? When she’d started supper she’d been thrilled about the prospect of spending the weekend with Stevie and Lisa at Pine Hollow. Now her dad had come home and told her that he’d planned a wonderful father-daughter camping trip.
She shrugged. It would be great to spend all weekend at Pine Hollow, but it would also be great to hike through the Virginia mountains with her dad. It seemed like they hadn’t really talked in forever.
No, when she thought about it, the decision wasn’t a hard one at all. Maybe she could sleep over at the stable some other time with Stevie and Lisa. Opportunities to camp with her father didn’t come along every day, and she just couldn’t pass this one up.
“MAX, WE’VE GOT an offer you can’t refuse!” Stevie’s voice echoed down the corridors of Pine Hollow.
Carole hurried through the sweet-smelling barn, a half-eaten bagel in one hand. She’d overslept that morning, and though her father had been kind enough to give her a ride, she was still late. Stuffing the last bite of the bagel in her mouth, she started to run. She turned the final corner on one leg and skidded into Max Regnery’s office. Max, who owned Pine Hollow along with his mother, Mrs. Reg, was sitting behind his big desk just as Stevie was getting wound up to make her final pitch.
“Ah,” said Max, smiling at Carole’s appearance. “The third and final member of The Saddle Club. I guess this makes it official.”