English Rider Read online

  “Really,” Lisa went on when Mrs. Atwood hesitated. “You just bought me those nice buff breeches, remember? I haven’t even had a chance to wear them yet. And you said they’d look great with my good navy jacket, right?”

  “Oh.” Mrs. Atwood looked disappointed. “That’s right.” She glanced at Tessa again and brightened. “But I’ve got a wonderful idea. Why don’t we go and buy you one of those—er—stock pins, are they called? Then you can match Tessa and Veronica. Won’t that be fun? We can go to the mall tomorrow afternoon.” She smiled at the other girls. “You’re all welcome to come along, of course.”

  “Sorry,” Stevie said, not looking sorry at all. “I’ve got a doctor’s appointment.”

  Carole felt guilty for abandoning Lisa, but she shook her head. “I can’t make it, either. My dad has the day off tomorrow. I promised I’d go to the movies with him.”

  “Oh well,” Mrs. Atwood said. “That’s too bad. Tessa? How about you?”

  “I’d love to,” Tessa agreed.

  Lisa looked relieved, which made Carole feel better. At least Lisa wouldn’t be stuck shopping alone with her mother. “Okay, then,” Carole said, waving a hand at the posters and lists and other materials spread over the floor. “Maybe we should get back to work. We can probably finish this stuff before dinner.” And maybe at the same time, we can convince Tessa she’s making a big mistake by trusting Veronica, she thought.

  “Oh, that can wait.” Mrs. Atwood leaned back against the cushions of the couch. “You girls are staying over, right? You’ll have all night to work on these things.” She smiled. “Now, Tessa, I want to hear all about your afternoon with Veronica. Don’t leave out a thing.”

  “OH, TESSA, THERE you are!” Veronica rushed up to Carole and Tessa as they entered Pine Hollow’s student locker room the next morning. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  Carole rolled her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood for Veronica’s games—whatever they were. She and Tessa had promised Max they would disinfect the manure pit. While most of the manure was spread in a nearby field to dry and then carted away to be used as fertilizer, a certain amount of the stuff just had to be dumped in the manure pit because there was only so much space in the field. The pit had to be cleaned out regularly, but this was one of the least popular tasks at Pine Hollow, which was the main reason that Carole had decided to volunteer when she and Tessa had overheard Max and Red O’Malley, the head stable hand, talking about it in the tack room. Carole knew that if The Saddle Club wanted to regain Max’s respect, they would have to earn it.

  “Hi, Veronica,” Tessa greeted the other girl with a smile. “I wanted to thank you again for a lovely afternoon yesterday.”

  Veronica smiled back, looking pleased. “It was my pleasure,” she purred. “But listen. I was thinking about what you said at the mall about those lemon yellow breeches you have back home. I’ve never had any that color, and I think they might look really good with my new tweed hacking jacket. But then I thought maybe my brown breeches were better. Will you come and look at the jacket with me and see what you think? Oh, and I found that spare ratcatcher shirt I was telling you about.”

  “Oh, brilliant!” Tessa exclaimed. “I can’t imagine how I left mine at home. I was afraid I’d have to wear a T-shirt on Saturday.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Veronica said. “My shirt will look great as part of your judging outfit—especially with your new stock pin. I thought you should try it on now so you’ll know if it fits. If it doesn’t, I’ll have my tailor fix it. It’s in my cubby. Come on, we can do it right now.”

  “Do you mind?” Tessa turned to Carole with an eager smile. “I know I promised to help you with the muck heap, but …”

  Carole’s heart sank. “Um, no, that’s okay,” she said quietly. “Go ahead. I can take care of it myself. It’s no big deal.”

  CAROLE’S SHOULDERS WERE aching by the time she finished her task. Cleaning up the muck heap wasn’t easy at the best of times, but doing it all by herself was even worse. A truck had arrived an hour before to pick up most of the actual manure, but Carole had to scrape up the remains, rinse the cement floor with water, then disinfect it. Several times she thought about seeking out Stevie and Lisa to help her, but she resisted the urge. She knew that Stevie was hurrying to get her own work finished before she had to leave for her checkup. And Lisa was planning to spend some extra time with Derby. Carole didn’t want to interrupt that, since Lisa had only been riding the gelding for a short time. Besides, Carole thought as she scraped the cement with a heavy shovel, why should her friends suffer? This was all Veronica’s fault.

  And Tessa’s, added a little voice inside her head. Carole shoved the thought aside. She had work to do.

  When she was finally finished, Carole washed her hands in the tack room sink, then dragged herself down the aisle in search of her friends. She saw Belle in her stall, munching peacefully on a fresh flake of hay. Derby was alone, too, though his shining coat and perfectly combed mane attested to the fact that Lisa had been there recently. Carole stopped by Starlight’s stall long enough to give him a pat and a few carrot pieces, then headed outside.

  She found Stevie and Lisa by the outdoor ring. They were sitting on the fence, watching Mrs. Pennington drive Hodge and Podge around the ring. This time, instead of Max’s battered old pony cart, the big horses were pulling a cart that Carole had never seen before.

  “Wow,” Carole remarked, forgetting about her sore muscles for a moment. “No wonder Mrs. Pennington was so eager to get her carriage down here. It’s incredible!”

  The vehicle had four spoked wheels, but that was the only thing it had in common with the pony cart. Mrs. Pennington was perched on a high bench seat of gleaming leather set just behind the smaller forward wheels. Between the large rear wheels was a second leather seat. A ribbed leather hood rose over the front seat, shading the driver from the late-morning sun. The hood, seats, and tires were black, while the body and spokes of the cart were a bright, glossy yellow.

  Lisa nodded without taking her eyes off the horse-drawn vehicle. “She told us it’s called a Spider Phaeton,” she said. “A phaeton is a kind of four-wheeled cart from the late seventeen hundreds.”

  “Cool.” Carole climbed onto the fence beside her friends, letting out an involuntary groan as her overworked muscles protested.

  Stevie turned to glance at her. “What’s wrong?” she said. “And by the way, where’s Tessa?”

  Carole explained quickly. When she finished, Lisa’s eyes were wide.

  “You mean you cleaned up the muck heap all by yourself?” she said. “Why didn’t you come get us to help you?”

  “Or better yet, why didn’t you get Red to help you?” Stevie added with a grin. She hated disinfecting the manure pit.

  Carole shrugged. “I didn’t want to drag you guys away from what you were doing. And I didn’t want Max to think I was wimping out or something, so I didn’t want him to hear I asked Red for help.”

  “Hi there,” said a new voice from behind them. It was Miles Pennington.

  “Hi,” Lisa greeted him. “Your grandma looks great out there.”

  Miles smiled. “I know,” he said, watching the team in the ring. “She’s happy as a clam now that her rigs are finally here.”

  “Does she have more than one of those carts?” Carole asked, casting another admiring glance at the beautiful yellow-and-black vehicle.

  “Not just like that one.” Miles waved a hand at the phaeton. “That’s her favorite. It’s the one she uses the most. But she has half a dozen vehicles altogether—a curricle, a governess cart, a buckboard …”

  “Hold on a second,” Stevie said. “What in the world are all those things?”

  Miles laughed good-naturedly. “Sorry. I guess I’m so used to Grandmother’s obsession that I forget not everyone spends half their time talking about these things.”

  Carole smiled at him. This was probably the longest conversation The Saddle Club had had wi
th Miles Pennington so far, and Carole was starting to think that the teenager might be a lot more interesting than she had suspected. At first he had seemed kind of formal and boring, without much to say. Now Carole wondered if she had simply mistaken good manners for dullness. Had she and her friends jumped to conclusions about Miles because they knew he was from a very wealthy, hoity-toity background? That wasn’t really fair, Carole realized. Some rich people—like Veronica—might indeed be totally boring, annoying, and self-absorbed, but certainly there were plenty of others who were smart and interesting and friendly. Just look at Tessa. Her family was wealthy, and she was as different from Veronica as could be.

  At least we thought she was, that little voice whispered to Carole before she could stop it. An image of Veronica and Tessa browsing together through the fanciest stores at the mall popped into her head.

  She shook it off. Miles was still talking, and she wanted to hear what he had to say. Carole was always interested in learning new things about horses. Besides, she was being ridiculous. Tessa was only being polite to Veronica to avoid trouble—that was all.

  Miles was explaining the differences among the various types of horse-drawn vehicles. “A phaeton was meant to be driven by its owner rather than a hired driver,” he said, pointing to the cart in the ring. “They’re light vehicles with four wheels. Aside from that, they come in all shapes and sizes. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘surrey with the fringe on top’?”

  Carole nodded. “That’s a line in one of those old songs my dad’s always singing while he washes the dishes,” she said.

  “Well, now you can tell him that a surrey is just one type of phaeton,” Miles said with a chuckle. “As for Grandmother’s other vehicles, the curricle is a two-wheeler—the only two-wheeled cart, as far as I know, that’s pulled by a pair of horses rather than just one. Then there’s the governess cart. That’s a type of dogcart—”

  “Dogcart?” Stevie grinned. “Is that a cart pulled by a bunch of beagles?”

  All four of them laughed. “Nothing like that,” Miles assured her. “Dogcarts are another kind of vehicle, with even more variations than phaetons. They got their name because they allowed enough space under the seats for the driver’s hunting dogs. A governess cart is a variation on the theme. Instead of dogs, it’s built to accommodate children, with high sides to keep them from falling out during a drive.”

  “Wow,” Lisa said. “You know a lot about this stuff.”

  Miles shrugged. “I don’t have much choice,” he said cheerfully. “I suppose if I’d been old enough when Grandmother was younger, I’d know just as much about show jumping. She used to be quite good at that, too.”

  “We heard.” Carole gazed for a moment at the elderly woman sitting ramrod-straight on the narrow seat of the phaeton. Mrs. Pennington was the picture of elegance as she expertly guided the two large, glossy-coated Cleveland Bays with the help of two pairs of long reins and a long-handled driving whip.

  Carole couldn’t help wondering if driving horses could really be a substitute for riding them. Still, she knew that if she couldn’t ride for some reason, she would want to find another way to be around horses. It sounded as though Mrs. Pennington had felt exactly the same way—and found a creative solution.

  “Oh, and I almost forgot,” Miles added. “We also have a couple of sleighs for driving in the snow.” He laughed. “I think that was one of the things that worried Grandmother the most about moving to Virginia. She was afraid we’d never get to use the sleighs because the weather is so much warmer here than back in Pennsylvania.”

  “We do get snow down here once in a while,” Stevie said, swinging her legs against the fence. “But put it this way—it’s probably a good thing that most of her carts have wheels and not runners.”

  Miles chuckled. “Maybe that’s why Grandmother decided to buy a large road coach just before we moved. I think that means she’s getting ready to try a four-in-hand.”

  “I know what that is,” Carole said. “Two pairs of horses, one in front of the other.”

  “I guess that means she’ll hitch both her teams together, right?” Lisa guessed. “Didn’t you say she has another pair arriving soon?”

  “That’s right,” Miles said. “But I don’t think she’s planning to harness them with Hodge and Podge. They wouldn’t match very well.” He winked conspiratorially. “Actually, I think it’s just her excuse to buy more horses. She started talking about it as soon as she realized how much larger our new stable is than the old one.”

  “A woman after my own heart,” Carole declared.

  A few minutes later the girls said good-bye to Miles and went inside to look for Tessa.

  “She probably needs rescuing by now,” Stevie said. “Especially if Veronica has been boring her with fashion tips and stories about the lifestyles of the rich and ridiculous.”

  Carole nodded, but she wasn’t so sure. Tessa hadn’t seemed particularly reluctant to go along with Veronica. But she decided not to mention that to her friends. “They were going to try on some clothes,” she said. “They must be in either the locker room or the bathroom.”

  “Let’s check the locker room first,” Lisa suggested.

  When they arrived, the student locker room was completely empty. There were no riding lessons scheduled for that day, so many of the young riders who didn’t own their own horses probably wouldn’t even come to the stable. But the room showed evidence that at least a few people had used it recently. A pair of thick socks was drying on one of the long benches that stretched across the room in front of the student cubbyholes. A few other articles of clothing were draped here and there. An empty soda can sat atop the five-foot wall of cubbies.

  “They’re not here,” Carole said. “Let’s try the bathroom.”

  “Wait.” Stevie was staring at something under one of the benches. She pointed. “Aren’t those the brand-new custom-made boots Veronica was bragging about the other day?”

  Carole shrugged. Veronica was always bragging about one piece of expensive clothing or another. Carole didn’t pay much attention anymore.

  But Lisa nodded. “Those are the ones,” she confirmed. “They’re real steeplechase boots. She ordered them as soon as she heard about the point-to-point.”

  Carole rolled her eyes. “Leave it to Veronica to spend tons of money on something she’ll probably only wear a few times.”

  Stevie was still staring in the direction of the boots. She had a very strange expression on her face. “Check it out,” she said in a too-casual voice. “Someone left a sandwich sitting there on the bench right above Veronica’s boots.”

  Lisa glanced at her, then at the sandwich, then back again. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Look, Stevie. You know we can’t risk—”

  Carole was thinking the same thing. She knew all too well how Stevie’s mind worked. “Wait, Stevie. If Max catches you—”

  But Stevie wasn’t listening to either of her friends. She leaped forward and grabbed the sandwich. “Peanut butter and jelly,” she said. “Perfect!”

  Carole gulped. The sandwich looked positively disgusting. Someone had taken a couple of bites before abandoning it. Grape jelly and half-melted peanut butter were oozing out the sides. “Gross,” she said. “That thing belongs in the trash.”

  “It looks like it was already in the trash,” Lisa muttered. “Look, there’s some dirt and stuff stuck in the peanut butter …”

  Stevie still wasn’t listening to her friends. Her eyes were gleaming. “You know, it wouldn’t take much for this sandwich to fall off the bench.” She sat down just above Veronica’s new boots. “And if those boots just happen to be sitting here when that happens …”

  Carole opened her mouth to protest as Stevie leaned forward, sandwich in hand and a wicked grin on her face. After that, things happened fast.

  “All right, what’s the big emergency?” a loud voice said, startling all three girls.

  They whirled to face the door—just in time to see Max walk
in, followed by Veronica and Tessa. And Max was staring straight at Stevie.

  LISA FELT FROZEN in place. She tried to open her mouth to say something to distract Max, but her vocal chords wouldn’t obey.

  It was too late anyway. Max was glaring suspiciously at Stevie. “Stevie Lake,” he barked. “What are you doing?”

  Lisa gulped. Stevie couldn’t have looked guiltier if she’d had a flashing neon sign on her forehead reading Prank in Progress. She was leaning forward with the gooey, dripping sandwich in one hand and the other hand stretched toward Veronica’s boots.

  As usual, Stevie reacted quickly. She smiled innocently at Max. Then she grabbed Veronica’s boots and pushed them aside. “Don’t worry, Max,” she asked cheerfully. “I was just moving these boots. I wouldn’t want my sandwich to drip on them.”

  Lisa gulped and glanced at Max. Would he really fall for that story?

  It didn’t look like it. Max folded his arms across his chest and glowered suspiciously. Veronica smirked. Tessa looked confused.

  Then Stevie did the only thing she could do. Lisa knew she couldn’t have done it herself. She doubted Carole could have, either. In fact, she strongly suspected that Stevie Lake was the only person in the world who would actually have been able to raise that awful-looking sandwich to her mouth and take a big bite.

  “Mmm,” Stevie said, chewing and swallowing quickly. “That hits the spot. Mucking out Belle’s stall and doing all those other stable chores really wakes up the old appetite.”

  Max was still frowning, but he shrugged. Then he turned to face Veronica. “Okay, Veronica,” he said. “What did you drag me in here for? I was in the middle of something.”

  Veronica glared at Stevie. “Actually, Max …,” she began loudly.

  Lisa opened her mouth again to interrupt before Veronica could say anything incriminating. She doubted that Veronica would admit to picking that sandwich out of the trash and planting it temptingly on the bench for Stevie to find—though Lisa was sure that was exactly what had happened. Still, if Max knew that those were Veronica’s boots by Stevie’s feet, his suspicions might be raised once again. Especially if Veronica made him take a good, close look at the flecks of trash and dirty fingerprints on the sandwich.