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  “Next we need coolers, and then our saddles,” Carole said. “Two can go in this trunk, and the other one can go in Stevie’s. Where is Stevie, anyway?”

  “She’s helping Max get the ponies loaded,” Meg called from across the tack room, where she and Betsy were packing their team’s trunks. “Nickel was giving Jessica a hard time.”

  “Oh,” Carole said understandingly. There were actually two rallies going on that weekend: one for younger, less experienced riders, and one for older riders such as The Saddle Club. Horse Wise, Pine Hollow’s Pony Club, had two teams entered in each competition. Since Max’s van could hold only eight horses, he was taking the younger kids and their ponies to the show grounds first, then coming back for The Saddle Club, Meg, Betsy, Veronica, and their horses.

  “Here’s your saddle,” Lisa said, gently placing it in the trunk. “Do you have extra stirrup leathers?”

  “Sure.” Carole’s brow creased in concentration. “Where did I put them?” She lifted the lid of the trunk they’d already packed and peered inside.

  “Hey,” Stevie called to them as she came into the room. “The little kids are on their way, and Max will be back in forty-five minutes for us. We should be ready, he says.”

  “Has anyone seen my lucky crop?” Veronica strolled into the tack room, elegantly dressed as always. She didn’t look ready for a weekend rally. Veronica gave The Saddle Club a disdainful glance as she walked over to Meg and Betsy. “I thought I put it near my new show coat. I just can’t imagine going to a show without it—not, of course, that I’ll need luck.”

  “No, of course not,” Stevie said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Veronica ignored her. “Have you seen it, Meg dear?” she asked. “It’s the one with the sterling silver top.”

  “Didn’t you put it in your duffel bag?” Meg asked. “With all your other clothes?”

  “Well—no. But maybe the maid packed it for me. I gave her explicit instructions. I’ll go check.”

  “Grab that bridle hook from the office while you’re out there, will you?” Betsy asked. “Max said we could borrow that one. Is Danny ready to go?”

  “I’ll ask Red,” Veronica said as she disappeared.

  “She’ll ask Red?” Stevie asked in amazement. “Red knows if her horse is ready, but she doesn’t?”

  Lisa elbowed Stevie in the ribs to silence her. Even though Meg and Betsy were pretty nice, they had both been Veronica’s friends for a long time. Stevie rolled her eyes but nodded. She took her saddle off its rack and tucked it into her tack trunk, then checked Carole’s list and added some baling twine and a pair of scissors. They would need them to hang buckets and feed tubs in the horses’ stalls.

  Veronica came back in. “Good news!” she said. “My crop was in my suitcase! That silly maid tucked it in between my shirts, so I couldn’t find it before.”

  “Silly maid,” Lisa said, shaking her head. “It’s so hard to find good help these days.”

  “That’s great, Veronica,” said Betsy. “Do you have the bridle hook?”

  Veronica looked blank. “What bridle hook?”

  “The one Max said we could use for the rally.”

  Veronica sighed. “I’m afraid I’m not exactly sure what you’re talking about,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure Red finished oiling my bits.”

  Betsy looked at Meg and shrugged. “I’ll go get it,” she said. Neither girl seemed to mind doing all Veronica’s work.

  “How could she not know what a bridle hook is?” Carole asked. “Even for Veronica, that’s pretty obtuse.” Bridle hooks looked like miniature anchors. They couldn’t be mistaken for anything else around a stable.

  “C’mon,” Stevie said with a snort. “Bridle hooks are used for cleaning tack, and we all know Veronica’s never done that in her entire life.”

  “With a horse like Danny,” Meg said loftily, “she shouldn’t have to.” She shut her tack trunk with a click and walked out of the room.

  “Poor Meg,” Lisa said. “She and Betsy always stick up for Veronica, but Veronica never even seems to notice.”

  “Meg chooses to do it,” Carole said. “Nobody makes her.”

  “Well,” said Stevie, checking Carole’s list one last time before closing her trunk, “I’m sure she thinks that having Danny on her team is enough of an asset to make up for having Veronica. But unless Danny’s learned to take the horse care test or set up and clean up his own stall, I’m not sure he’ll make enough of a difference.”

  As in all combined training events, the rally would put every horse and rider through three different riding tests: dressage, cross-country jumping, and show jumping. Any mistake made in competition would cost the pair penalty points. Rallies differed from other competitions, though, in that they required the teams to be able to care for their horses as well. Once at the show grounds, each team would be wholly on its own. The Saddle Club couldn’t ask Max for any help or advice except during their one official cross-country course walk. Adult inspectors could penalize them at any time for any infraction of the rules for horse care, tack care, organization, or cleanliness. The riders would also answer questions about different aspects of horse health.

  Carole loved rallies. She loved being tested on everything she knew, and she loved being totally responsible for Starlight. Of course, if she or Starlight was injured or became sick, Max and the other officials would help her right away. But as long as they were still competing, they were on their own.

  “We’re a great team,” Carole said. “That’s the best thing about us and the worst thing about a person like Veronica. She won’t even think to help Meg and Betsy. They’ll end up carrying her all weekend.”

  “They can’t lose too many points for horse care,” Lisa said glumly. “Danny’s in glorious condition, and I saw Veronica’s tack before Meg put it in her trunk. Red must have been up half the night cleaning it. It looks great.”

  “And I’m sure Meg and Betsy will have time to clean Danny’s stall,” Stevie said.

  “Oh well,” Lisa said. “We’ll have to do our best, like Carole always says. And we’d better get the horses ready. Max will be back soon.”

  They shoved the heavy trunks out to the aisle and went to their horses’ stalls. The three had already groomed Belle, Prancer, and Starlight, and each horse wore a neat stable sheet to keep it clean on the trip. Lisa went into Prancer’s stall with a set of shipping wraps and began to bandage Prancer’s legs. Prancer stamped her feet impatiently and let out a high whinny.

  “You know something’s up, don’t you, darling?” Lisa said. She ran her hand down the mare’s shoulder to soothe her. “It’s a rally. I think you’ll like it. Belle and Starlight will be there.” Horses became accustomed to each other’s company, and Lisa knew Prancer would be happy to be with her friends.

  “Can we put Prancer in between Belle and Starlight?” Lisa called to Carole and Stevie. “I think that will help keep her relaxed.”

  “Sure,” Stevie replied from Belle’s stall, “if they let us decide which horse goes where.”

  Carole laughed. “I think they’ll let us decide everything.” She was rerolling one of her bandages to make it easier to put on Starlight’s leg. As she walked past Danny’s stall, she couldn’t help looking inside. Carole was shocked. Danny wasn’t wrapped and he wasn’t wearing a sheet. From the flecks of hay across his withers, it didn’t look as if he’d even been brushed that afternoon. And Veronica was standing in his stall, idly running a comb through his tangle-free mane.

  “Better hurry,” Carole told her. “Max will be here in fifteen minutes.” If Veronica really got a move on, she might manage to have Danny ready in time.

  Veronica gave her a stiff smile. “We’re fine,” she said.

  Carole shrugged and walked on. Danny wasn’t her job.

  Bandaging a horse’s legs took time, and Carole was just finishing when she heard Max pull the big trailer into the yard. She pulled Starlight’s leather sh
ow halter over his head and tied him to the post in his stall. “Be right back,” she promised him.

  In the aisle, Lisa was arranging their personal gear: three duffel bags, three sleeping bags, two pillows (Stevie never used one), three garment bags with their riding coats inside, and one very large plastic cooler. They would eat their meals with all the other competitors, but The Saddle Club had been to enough rallies to know they needed plenty of snacks.

  Carole hefted one end of the cooler and helped Lisa carry it out to Max’s truck. Max and Red began to load the heavier tack trunks. Meg, Betsy, and Stevie started loading gear, too. “Where’s Veronica?” Max asked.

  “Back with Danny,” Meg told him.

  Max seemed pleased until they started loading the horses. “Why aren’t you ready?” he asked Veronica. Danny was still not brushed, blanketed, or wrapped.

  “Sorry!” Meg said. “We didn’t—” Max raised his hand to let Veronica speak.

  Veronica looked apologetic. “I don’t mean to hold everyone up,” she said. “I just wasn’t sure how to put Danny’s shipping wraps on, and I knew I could hurt his legs if I did it wrong. I asked Carole, but she wouldn’t help me.”

  “I beg your pardon!” Carole said. “You never—”“Let’s just get him ready,” Max said firmly. Meg and Betsy hurried to help Veronica while Carole stood, astounded, outside the stall. Max gave Carole a quick squeeze on the shoulder and an encouraging look, and Carole felt much better. Max knew Veronica; he wouldn’t believe her complaints.

  When they got to the show grounds, they found that all the teams would be stabled in temporary stalls under a big tent. Each team was assigned four stalls: three for their horses and one as a combined tack room and living area for the riders. They would all camp out there overnight. Unfortunately, The Saddle Club girls found themselves in stalls right across an aisle from Veronica and her group.

  “We’ll make our tack room the outside stall,” Veronica declared with a sniff. “That way we’ll have at least some chance of fresh air. I can’t believe they’re making us sleep out in the stables. My mother was willing to put us up in a hotel, you know.” She stood back as her family’s chauffeur carried in a portable cot and air mattress.

  “I can’t stand it,” Stevie muttered to Carole and Lisa. “My idea of fresh air is to be as far from Veronica as possible.”

  “I agree,” said Lisa. They put Belle in the outside stall, then Prancer, then Starlight. Their tack room was on the inside of the row, right next to some stalls assigned to a team from another Pony Club.

  “The water’s at the end of the aisle, and somebody said extra shavings are at the other end of the tent,” Carole reported. They all bustled about getting their horses’ stalls ready. They hung water buckets and spread shavings. Carole broke open a bale of hay and split it among the three horses.

  Max and Red had helped with the tack trunks again. Lisa saw them standing beside the truck, making jokes with one another. “Max, could you check to see if you think Prancer’s got enough shavings?” she called to him. “The floor of her stall isn’t very level. Does it matter?”

  Max grinned at her and shook his head. “Can’t help you,” he said.

  “Already?” Lisa asked. They’d just gotten there!

  Max pointed to a pair of women walking through the tent with clipboards in their hands. Lisa gawked and rushed back to Stevie and Carole. “We’re being inspected right now!” she said. “We’re not set up!”

  Carole calmly measured grain into Starlight’s feed bucket. “Half the teams aren’t set up. They must just be looking for things that people are doing wrong.”

  Lisa wasn’t so sure. She anxiously finished Prancer’s stall, then took Prancer’s sheet off and hung it on their blanket rack in the tack room. Then she took it back down. What if Prancer needed it? The night was fairly warm, but it looked as if it might rain. Lisa wished she could ask Max for advice. She decided to ask Stevie. “Sheet or no sheet?”

  Stevie looked up from inspecting Belle’s hooves. “Sheet. It’s going to storm.”

  From across the aisle they could hear Veronica’s voice rising to a peevish whine. “What do you mean, I don’t have my water bucket hung high enough? How high does a water bucket need to be?” Peeking out the doors of their horses’ stalls, they saw the pair of inspectors talking to Veronica. They all ducked back, laughing.

  “If she’d read her Pony Club manual, she’d know the answer to that question,” Lisa said. “The water bucket has to be low enough that the horse can drink out of it but high enough that the horse can’t knock it over or get a foot caught in it.”

  “And the bucket has to be tied to a post, not to a board in the stall,” Stevie added. “The weight of a full bucket might pull a board loose, but it wouldn’t hurt a post.”

  “What do you mean, I’m getting penalized?” Veronica shouted. Stevie and Lisa giggled.

  “Poor sportsmanship,” a voice chided them from the aisle. “Laughing at another team’s errors.”

  They both looked out. “Phil!” Stevie cried. “I’ve been looking for you!”

  Lisa saw A.J. and Bart standing behind Phil. “Hi, guys,” she said brightly, stepping out into the aisle.

  “Hi, Lisa,” A.J. said. Bart just waved and smiled.

  “We’re two aisles down,” Phil said, “on this same side. We’ve come to tell you to hurry. It’s time for dinner, and rumor has it they’re serving pizza.”

  “And we love pizza,” A.J. said. “So we want to be sure to get first dibs. Right, Bart?”

  “Right,” Bart said. He gave Lisa another shy smile. Lisa felt herself starting to blush. How could she be so silly?

  “I’ll get Carole,” Stevie said. “I think we’re almost ready.” She scurried down the aisle. Lisa looked at the three boys and struggled for something witty and clever to say.

  “So, do you think it’s going to rain?” she asked, just as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead. So much for witty and clever!

  “Might,” Bart said.

  “Yeah,” A.J. added, clapping Bart on the shoulder, “that’s our friend Bart. King of the one-word answers.”

  Bart shrugged. He didn’t look uncomfortable. “I do better with horses than people,” he told Lisa.

  “At least,” Phil added teasingly, “he does better with horses than girls.”

  Bart blushed deep red, and Lisa felt herself blushing again, too. “Stevie!” she called out.

  “Here we are!” Stevie said, coming out with Carole in tow. “Take us to your pizza!”

  A crack of lightning lit the darkening sky, and rain began to pelt the roof of the tent. “Run!” Phil shouted. They took off across the field toward the mess hall, laughing. Lisa was immensely grateful not to have to look at Bart. She felt incredibly self-conscious. Did everyone notice her blush? And was that good or bad?

  Lisa thought back to Bart’s blush. Was he always that embarrassed around girls? Or was it possible that he was—at least a little—interested in her?

  LISA SMACKED THE Off switch of her portable alarm clock to stop its ringing. She sat up in her sleeping bag and rubbed her eyes. Above her head, rain drummed steadily against the roof of the stabling tent, and the air smelled damp and cold. “Geez,” she said, “did it rain all night?”

  Carole stood up, shaking her sleeping bag loose, and leaned over the top of the tack room door. “Looks that way,” she answered. “I can see a lot of puddles, including one right here in the middle of our aisle.” They heard a thump from Starlight’s stall, and Carole giggled. “Starlight sees me. He just butted his feed tub to tell me it’s time for his breakfast.”

  They all got up, rolled their sleeping bags and stowed them neatly in a corner, and put on their socks and paddock boots. They had slept in sweatshirts and old breeches. They divided the chores, Lisa getting the grain, Stevie the hay, and Carole the water.

  “I’ll be responsible for the water in more ways than one,” Carole said. “I’m going to fill that aisle puddle
before we go to breakfast. You never know when an inspector might come around.” She grabbed a muck bucket and headed for the shavings pile.

  Lisa toed the edge of the puddle. “Do you think the tent’s leaking? I didn’t feel a drop all night.”

  “Probably the rain just blew in from the side and settled in that low spot,” Stevie guessed. “The whole aisle’s muddy. We’ll have to spread a lot of shavings.”

  Stevie dropped a flake of hay into each horse’s stall. She paused to say good morning to Belle. “Hello, beautiful. Did you sleep well?” Belle looked fit and happy, but her hooves, Stevie noticed, were wet. Since Belle’s stall was on the outside edge of the row, it had gotten pretty wet from rain blowing under the tent roof, and her bedding was soaked. Stevie knew that wet bedding wouldn’t hurt a horse for a few hours, but it wasn’t good for them as a regular thing. “I’m going to pick out this stall before breakfast,” she said when Lisa came in with Belle’s grain.

  “Ugh,” Lisa said, nodding agreement as her feet squished into the wet shavings. “Prancer’s and Starlight’s stalls are still dry.”

  “Good.” Stevie pointed to Team Veronica’s tack stall and grinned. “Do you think they got wet? I’d hate to have a little water disrupt Veronica’s beauty sleep.”

  Lisa pursed her lips in thought. “I’m sure if Veronica had gotten wet, we would have heard all about it, even in the middle of the night. She’s not the type to suffer in silence.”

  Stevie snorted. “You can say that again.”

  Lisa left. Stevie worked quickly, using a pitchfork to scoop the wet bedding into one of their muck buckets. Then she dragged the muck bucket through the diminishing rain to the place where they were supposed to pile used bedding. It took three trips before Belle’s stall was stripped. Then Stevie took the big bucket to the shavings pile and started filling it. When she returned to Belle’s stall, an inspector was looking over the door, pencil and clipboard in hand.

 

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