Flying Horse Read online

  “I bet he’d rather have a new halter,” Lisa said.

  “Flying changes,” Stevie repeated grimly. “Two weeks.”

  LISA RAN UP the driveway of Pine Hollow. She could see Carole and Stevie already mounted, along with the rest of the students in her Tuesday-afternoon lesson. Lisa tried to run faster, but her side hurt. “I’m sorry, Max, I’ll be right there,” she gasped from the side of the ring.

  Max looked fierce. “You of all people I don’t expect to be late,” he told her. “Lisa, you know how I feel about coming to lessons on time.”

  “But I had a dentist appointment, and the dentist was late,” Lisa explained, “and my mom couldn’t pick me up, so I had to walk from downtown Willow Creek, and there weren’t any buses—”

  “All these excuses are only making you later,” Max replied. “If I were you, I’d be tacking up Prancer instead of standing here talking.” He turned on his heel and clapped his hands at the rest of the class. “Let’s trot!” he commanded.

  Lisa had to blink back tears. She felt stunned. Max had never spoken to her like that before. She knew he hated having his students arrive late for lessons, but he always listened to her. She couldn’t remember his ever being angry at her for something she couldn’t help. Lisa fled to the stable, unaware of the concerned looks her friends sent after her.

  Running through the door, Lisa nearly collided with Denise McCaskill, who was coming out of the office with her arms full of clean stable sheets. “Whoa!” said Denise. “Lisa, what’s wrong?”

  “Oh, everything,” said Lisa. “I’m sorry, Denise. I shouldn’t be running in the stable, I know. But I’m so late for my lesson, and Max is angry—”

  Denise put the sheets down on a bench. “I’ll help you,” she offered. “Who’re you riding?”

  “Prancer,” she said, gulping.

  “You get her tack, and I’ll put her on the cross-ties.”

  When Lisa got back, Denise had already brushed Prancer and was picking out her hooves. “Thank you so much, Denise,” Lisa said. “I’ve had the worst day.”

  “I can see that,” Denise said sympathetically. “Here, hand me the saddle pad. What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, dentist, and my mom was too busy to drive me, and I couldn’t find a bus—I’ve had a whole bunch of days like this lately, and I almost never do.” Lisa helped Denise settle Prancer’s saddle across her back. “Max is just furious, and I don’t know why.”

  “He’s been like that lately,” Denise replied. “I don’t know if it’s because Deborah is gone, or what. Today he bawled Red out, and Red still isn’t sure why. I wouldn’t take it personally, if I were you.”

  “It’s just that this is summer,” said Lisa. “It’s supposed to be the best part of the year, and it’s starting out really crummy.” She put the reins around Prancer’s neck and began to bridle her.

  “I always feel a little displaced this time of year, too,” said Denise. “College is out but I haven’t really gotten into the swing of vacation. It seems like all the fun summer stuff happens later, in July or August. This time of year I always want to do something different, but I never know what it is.”

  “I’d like something different,” said Lisa as she gave Prancer a final check, “I’d like not to be late for this lesson. Thanks again for your help.”

  “Good luck!” Denise replied. “And Lisa—chin up!”

  The class was still trotting in its two-point positions, the way Max liked to warm up students and horses, when Lisa entered the ring. He didn’t say a word to her, or even look in her direction. Lisa checked her girth, mounted, and quickly started trotting. She still felt embarrassed about Max’s yelling at her.

  “Lisa, look out!” Stevie shrieked. Lisa sat back just as Belle cut the corner at a flying gallop and nearly ran into Prancer’s side. Prancer laid her ears back, but, thanks to Stevie’s warning, Lisa kept her under control.

  “Stevie, what was that about?” demanded Max.

  “She spooked—the wind blew a piece of paper into the ring—” Stevie sputtered. Stevie got Belle back into a trot, but it was clear that the mare was fighting her. Lisa sighed. This on top of everything. Lisa knew from riding Prancer that some days high-strung horses could be flighty. Belle was usually calm, but not today.

  Stevie was so upset she didn’t know what to do. She’d been worrying about Belle ever since Saturday’s ride, and in this, their next lesson, Belle was being horrible. There was no better word to describe it. The mare seemed to be paying attention to everything—the wind, a barn cat, shadows on the ground—everything except what Stevie was asking her to do. This is the calm, collected horse I rode in the Founders’ Day Parade? Stevie asked herself. Belle, what’s gotten into you? Belle caught a glimpse of a passing truck and shied again.

  Is my horse really this much worse than Phil’s? No! Stevie wouldn’t allow herself to think it. She would make Belle behave, perfectly, right now. She gave Belle a whack with her crop—it wouldn’t hurt the horse, but it would certainly get Belle’s attention. Belle bucked.

  “Stevie Lake!” Max commanded. “Let’s see a circle at the sitting trot.”

  Stevie sat deep in the saddle and used her weight and back to steady Belle’s trot. She tightened her legs around Belle’s sides and commanded her to circle. Belle turned, but she tossed her head. Stevie shortened the reins. Belle steadied her head but looked angry about it, and at the end of the circle she bucked again.

  “Get it together, Stevie,” said Max. “Soften her. Circle again.”

  Stevie tightened her grip on the reins. She would make Belle behave.

  Across the ring, Carole recognized the look of grim determination on Stevie’s face. She shot a worried glance to Lisa, who nodded miserably. Belle was in a temper, but so was Stevie. She and Lisa had seen Stevie look like this before, and the results were never good.

  Belle bucked again. “You stupid horse!” yelled Stevie. She couldn’t help it. Today, of all days, it seemed so important that Belle behave.

  “Stevie, you know better than to act like this in one of my lessons,” said Max, sounding truly outraged.

  “Oooh,” cooed Veronica diAngelo, whose horse, Garnet, had behaved impeccably the entire class, “is darling Stevie getting in trouble?”

  “I’d say you know better than to act like that, too, Veronica, except that you probably don’t,” Max retorted. “I’d like to see some manners from all of you, starting now. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Max,” they mumbled.

  LISA THOUGHT IT was probably the worst riding lesson of her entire life. She was actually relieved when it was over. She dismounted Prancer and gave her a few tired pats.

  “Wow,” said Carole, riding Starlight up to Stevie and Lisa. “That was a mess, wasn’t it? You both look like you’ve had rotten days. Why don’t we all go to TD’s—my treat. A Saddle Club special.” TD’s was an ice cream parlor near Pine Hollow that The Saddle Club frequented.

  “Sounds fantastic,” said Lisa wearily. “I’d really love it. Thank you, Carole.” She ran Prancer’s stirrups up and looped the reins over her arm.

  Stevie, still in the saddle, looked grim. “Thanks, Carole. It sounds great, and I really would like to go, but I think I’d better work with Belle a little bit more.”

  Carole frowned. “Belle’s had enough work for today, Stevie—don’t you think?” Carole wasn’t sure. Starlight almost never behaved as badly as Belle had.

  “No,” said Stevie. “She’s not even trying to listen to me, Carole. I’m not going to make her canter or even trot—I’m not trying to wear her out—but I’m going to work her at the walk until she gives in and starts listening to me. She knows better than to act like this.” At least, Stevie thought, I hope she knows better. She couldn’t quite erase the doubt she was beginning to feel.

  Lisa saw Carole start to say something to Stevie but then decide not to. Lisa understood. When Stevie was this upset, she rarely listened to advice—she would only get upset w
ith Carole, too. And certainly riding Belle at a walk wasn’t going to hurt her. Like Carole, Lisa wasn’t sure what she would do if Belle were her horse.

  Inside the barn, the first thing they heard was Max shouting again. “Can’t you children keep yourselves under control?”

  “Wow,” muttered Lisa.

  “I agree,” said Carole. “This sure isn’t the Max we know.”

  They walked their horses quietly down the aisle. Max was standing in the doorway of the tack room, scolding a group of younger riders inside. May Grover was staunchly defending herself and the others. “We were only playing tag in the tack room, Max, not in the stable. We know better. We weren’t going to frighten the horses.”

  “You were making too much noise,” Max told her. He dropped his hands from his hips and smiled, but the smile seemed forced. “Next time, make it silent tag, okay?”

  “Okay.” The little kids looked relieved.

  Max turned and saw Lisa and Carole. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Nice job with Starlight today, Carole,” he said. “You were the one highlight of that awful lesson. And Lisa, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I don’t like you coming late, but what was it you said—dentist?—I guess you couldn’t help that. I’ve just had one of those days.”

  “I know what you mean, Max. I’ve had one, too.” Lisa felt much better.

  AS LISA AND Carole left to walk to TD’s, they passed Stevie and Belle in the outdoor ring. Stevie was asking Belle to back up, halt, walk forward, halt, and back up again—simple exercises that Belle knew well and should have done easily. Belle was doing them, but Lisa could see that the mare wasn’t happy about it. Her ears were back and her expression was mulish; clearly, she was still resisting Stevie.

  “Poor Stevie,” said Lisa, as they waved to Stevie and walked on. “I wish she had come with us.”

  “Poor Belle,” added Carole. They waited for a car to pass and crossed the road.

  “I agree,” said Lisa. “Usually Belle seems so glad to do whatever Stevie asks. She seems so in tune with Stevie. I can’t really believe this is all Belle’s fault. I know she started out badly today—it certainly wasn’t Stevie’s fault that she shied at that newspaper, but still—”

  “Right,” said Carole with a nod. “When a horse misbehaves, you have to correct it, and all horses misbehave sometimes, but I’m not sure Stevie’s correcting Belle the right way.”

  “Belle’s a lot like Prancer,” Lisa said. “They’re both mares, and both are high-spirited and sensitive. I can’t force Prancer into doing something she doesn’t want to do—it’s more like I have to convince her that she does want to do it. Belle’s like that. I bet she’s reacting to Stevie’s bad mood as much as to anything else.”

  Carole sighed. “That’s what’s worrying me about this flying change scheme,” she said, shaking her head. “With horses, you can’t put learning on a timetable. Some things take longer to teach than others. It’s not really fair for Stevie to say that Belle has to learn flying changes in two weeks.”

  “We’ll help her,” Lisa reminded her friend.

  Carole smiled ruefully. “It’s just that right now we don’t know how.”

  ON THURSDAY AFTERNOON, Carole arrived at Pine Hollow just as Lisa’s mom was dropping her off. They greeted each other gladly. “This is beautiful weather,” said Carole. “Let’s go for a trail ride!”

  “Fantastic!” Lisa agreed. Yesterday she’d had to go shopping with her mother and her aunt Phyllis, and she hadn’t been able to come to Pine Hollow at all. This morning her mother had suggested that Lisa take a summer “cultural enrichment program,” which consisted of classes in ballet, ballroom dancing, painting, and music appreciation. Lisa was fuming. She didn’t want to appreciate music. All she wanted to do was spend as much time around horses as possible. A trail ride was just what she needed.

  Inside the barn, the first thing they noticed was Belle’s empty stall. Red was giving a private lesson in the outdoor ring, and they knew Stevie wouldn’t go out on the trails alone. They checked the indoor arena and found Stevie cantering Belle in figure eights. A pole was laid on the ground crosswise in the center of the eight. Both Stevie and Belle were sweating heavily in the hot, enclosed arena.

  “Hi.” Stevie greeted them glumly. “We don’t have anything to show you, I’m afraid.”

  Carole leaned against the arena’s gate. “I’ve seen that exercise in books,” she said. “It’s supposed to teach her a flying change, isn’t it?” She explained to Lisa, “When you canter figure eights on the same lead, the horse is on the wrong lead half the time and should feel pretty unbalanced. Also, the horse will tend to jump the ground pole, and a flying change is easier for the horse to do out of a jumping motion. So the idea is that the horse will do a flying change over the ground pole in order to keep its balance during the second half of the figure eight. Isn’t that right, Stevie?”

  Stevie nodded miserably. “That’s right. But it isn’t working. We’ve been doing this for an hour, and not only has she not done a flying change, she hasn’t done anything remotely resembling one.”

  Stevie used her shirt sleeve to mop the sweat from her forehead. “She doesn’t jump the pole, she just canters over it, and she doesn’t seem to mind turning on the wrong lead.”

  “I don’t know,” Carole said quietly. “I’ve never tried this exercise before.” She wished she could help Stevie—usually she knew so much about horses that she had more advice than anyone wanted to hear, but today she had none. When she had gotten Starlight, he’d already known how to do flying changes, and all Carole had to do was work on refining them. But she didn’t think it would help Stevie to hear that.

  “We did this yesterday, too,” Stevie said. “It wasn’t any different.” She sounded miserable even to herself. The worst part, she thought, was something she didn’t even want to tell her friends. What if the trouble wasn’t with Belle? What if the trouble was Stevie? What if she really wasn’t a good enough rider to train her own horse? Stevie rarely talked about it, but she loved dressage, and sometimes she dreamed of riding in Grand Prix competitions. What if she wasn’t good enough? This trouble with flying changes might be only the start.

  “Come on a trail ride with us,” Lisa urged. “We’ve hardly gotten a chance to see you. Belle looks tired. Put her away and take Topside. Let’s have some fun.” I really miss being with you, Lisa added to herself.

  “Belle could have a nice time out in the back pasture, and you could have a great time riding with us,” Carole said. “You can’t work this hard all the time.” She smiled encouragingly.

  “Please, Stevie,” Lisa said. “It didn’t seem right at TD’s without you.”

  Stevie looked down at the smiling faces of her two best friends. Part of her—a large part of her—wanted to stay and ride Belle until Belle had done a flying change, but another part of her thought maybe the rest of The Saddle Club was right. She and Belle had done enough work for one day. Maybe being with Lisa and Carole would make her feel better about riding.

  “Okay,” Stevie said. “I’ll hose Belle down and turn her out in the pasture, and then I’ll see if I can take Topside. I’ll meet you by the good-luck horseshoe, all right?”

  “Good,” said Carole. As they walked away she whispered to Lisa, “I don’t remember ever having to talk Stevie into a trail ride before.”

  “No,” Lisa said. “Belle hasn’t had any fun, either. Stevie’s ridden her hard for four straight days, and the only thing they’ve done, aside from our lesson on Tuesday, is work on that stupid flying change. Belle hasn’t had time to think about anything except hard work and flying changes.”

  “Belle looks miserable,” said Carole. “It isn’t that Stevie’s really doing anything wrong—I know she would never hurt Belle—but I just don’t think what she’s doing is right.” They paused in the tack room to gather their saddles and bridles.

  “Stevie looks miserable, too,” Lisa added. “She looks worse than she did on Tuesday. We
need to do something to help her.”

  Carole paused in the act of taking Starlight’s bridle off its peg. “Do you think Mrs. Reg could help?” she asked. “She knows practically everything about horses.” Mrs. Reg, short for Regnery, was Max’s mother and the stable manager. She was famous for her sometimes cryptic but always sound advice.

  “It’s certainly worth a try,” Lisa said. They left their tack and hurried to the stable office. Mrs. Reg greeted them warmly.

  “Here are two of my three favorite girls, The Saddle Club,” she said. “Where’s Stevie?”

  “She’s outside, cooling off Belle,” said Lisa. “That’s what we wanted to talk—”

  The office door flew open and Max stormed inside. “That Patch!” he shouted. “Can you believe—he’s gone and gotten an abscess in his hoof! He’ll be lame for two weeks!” Max threw a towel onto the chair.

  “Well,” Mrs. Reg said mildly, “Patch did it on purpose, I’m sure, just to mess up your plans.”

  Carole and Lisa, who had been somewhat alarmed at Max’s outburst, tried unsuccessfully to stifle giggles. Patch was a dear, quiet lesson horse. He almost never did anything wrong—and no horse would intentionally step on a nail and develop a painful abscess on purpose. It made as much sense as saying that Lisa would come down with chicken pox on purpose.

  Max laughed, too. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he said. “But really, it’s quite inconvenient. I’ve got six beginners coming for a lesson in five minutes, and six more coming in an hour, and there aren’t too many horses I trust with beginners as much as Patch.” He rubbed his jaw. “Have you noticed, I seem to be apologizing a lot these days?” he added.

  Mrs. Reg nodded. “This whole week,” she said.

  “It’s just—I never get any peace and quiet around here,” he said plaintively. “I don’t think any of you realizes. London was my first week away from this stable in longer than I can remember, and it was peaceful—really relaxing. And of course Deborah was there, and now she’s away—I’d just like a little peace and quiet, that’s all, just a little.”