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  He tilted his hat toward her until it looked like it would fall off. Carole shook her head and rode up to take the lead with Kate. Her father wasn’t about to take this trail ride seriously.

  Soon they were back at the corral.

  “That was great!” Stevie’s father said as he dismounted. “I’ll take trail-riding in the Rockies over golf in Virginia any day. And Melody,” he said to his horse, “you’re the best durn, rough-ridin’ pony this cowboy’s ever seen.” And with that Mr. Lake gave his horse a slap on the rump. Which she took as a signal to move forward. She started toward the barn.

  “Whoa, not so fast, little lady,” said Mr. Lake, grabbing at the reins.

  “Dad,” said Stevie, “you aren’t supposed to smack a horse that hard on the rump unless you want her to go somewhere.”

  “Sorry, girl,” said Mr. Lake to his horse. This time he gently patted Melody on the neck.

  “I thought that ride was a piece of cake!” said Colonel Hanson.

  “I love these views,” added Mrs. Lake. “Every single place you look, the scenery’s incredible!”

  At that moment the big triangle that hung on the ranch-house porch was rung loud and long.

  “You think the views are great, Mom,” said Stevie, “wait till you taste the food!”

  LISA’S FATHER PILED his plate high with fried chicken and coleslaw at dinner. He glanced at Phyllis Devine. “My compliments to the chef. It looks like the food you serve is one of the secrets to the ranch’s great success!”

  Colonel Hanson raised his glass of iced tea. “Hear, hear!”

  Everyone lifted their glasses to Phyllis, and then they all dug in.

  Lisa noticed that even her mother was enjoying dinner. Instead of her perpetual diet of salad, Mrs. Atwood had actually put a drumstick and a roll on her plate.

  After the last slices of pie were eaten and the last plates and glasses cleared from the table, the parents and daughters teamed up for a quick game of charades.

  For the last round, Mr. Lake stepped up and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He had one hand on his chest, and he wiggled his Adam’s apple with the other hand.

  “Song titles!” Lisa yelled.

  Mr. Lake nodded.

  “Figures,” said Stevie. They all burst out laughing as Mr. Lake frowned at his daughter, then began waving his hands and flapping his arms.

  “Wings!” Carole called.

  “ ‘On the Wings of Love,’ ” Stevie shouted.

  Mr. Lake shook his head and flapped harder.

  “ ‘Wind Beneath My Wings!’ ” Lisa guessed it. And they all collapsed in giggles.

  “You’re much better when you’re not making any noise, Dad,” Stevie teased.

  Mr. Lake yawned. “I guess that’s my cue … to turn in, and save the rest of the songs for tomorrow.”

  THE GIRLS WERE in their pj’s, going over the events of the day.

  “I think my mom ended up enjoying the trail ride,” said Lisa. “She had a rough patch when she practically kicked a hole in Spot’s sides, but thanks to Spot’s good temper, she finally started getting the hang of it.”

  “It’s fun to see my parents having such a good time,” said Stevie. “I just wish my dad wouldn’t try to show off. Did you see when he whacked Melody on the rump? She almost flew right up to the weather vane on the barn roof!”

  Carole rolled her eyes.

  “Did you notice my dad, with his feet sticking way out in front of him? He was rocking from side to side so much, I thought Yellowbird might get dizzy! And when I said something about it, he just laughed it off, like it was some big joke.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Lisa. “My mom certainly doesn’t like me telling her what to do either.”

  “I wish they would take the whole thing more seriously,” Carole went on. “Just because we’re the ones giving them suggestions on how to be better riders doesn’t mean they shouldn’t try and do what we say.”

  “They’re acting like the kids,” said Lisa.

  “Right!” Carole agreed. For her, good horsemanship came above everything else, and she had very high standards.

  The problem was the Saddlebags didn’t see things quite the same way.

  LISA GULPED THE last of her hot chocolate and looked at Stevie, who was digging into thirds on French toast. “Come on,” she said.

  Stevie nodded, but kept on eating.

  “Steeeevie,” Lisa persisted, “are you going to eat or ride?”

  “Vofe!” Stevie answered.

  “What?”

  Stevie chewed and swallowed. “Both.”

  “Wellll …”

  “I know where you want to go,” said Stevie. “I heard Kate say John’s out in the corral, working with his new horse.”

  “Well, wouldn’t you rather watch him and learn something than eat?”

  “Sometimes,” said Stevie as she put her napkin on the table and stood up. “But with food like this, it’s debatable.”

  Kate met the girls on their way out the door. “I was just coming in to get you guys. You’ve got to see this. John and Tex, they’re amazing!”

  “We know, we know,” said Stevie, elbowing Lisa in the ribs.

  The three girls headed out to the corral, where they joined Carole, who had climbed atop the post-and-rail fence to get a better view.

  “Even though Tex came to us perfectly trained at walk, trot, lope, and gallop,” Kate said, “the stuff he and John are doing now is new for both of them. Reining is kind of like dressage, but it looks more like the fancy moves cowboys used to do in all those old Westerns.”

  “What do you call that halt he’s practicing now?” asked Lisa.

  “A sliding stop. Right now he’s practicing it out of a walk. But he’ll be up to a gallop soon.”

  John looked over at the girls and waved. He walked Tex to the far end of the corral, turned him down the center, and brought him to a trot. Then, with a soft “Whoa,” John lifted the reins and sat back deep in the saddle. Tex stopped short, bringing his hindquarters beneath him.

  “Good boy.” John walked him to the near end of the corral and turned him to try it again.

  “The secret of learning all these moves,” Kate went on, “is to start slow. That way, John teaches Tex the response at a walk and trot, and doesn’t have to pull hard on his mouth when he stops from a faster gait. Watch what he does now.”

  Lisa kept her eyes on John as he brought Tex to a lope. When he was practically at the end of the corral, he signaled the horse. Tex’s hind feet slid under him. His weight was on his rear haunches and his forelegs just left the ground. But he kept his balance perfectly and in another instant he stood up, balanced on all four legs.

  Carole let out a low whistle. “That was great.”

  “Now watch this,” said Kate as John walked to one end of the corral and started backing Tex up. “Looks like normal dressage backing, right?”

  “Yeah, it does,” said Lisa.

  “Just watch,” said Kate.

  John slowly and patiently backed Tex up one, two, three, four, five, six, seven paces and kept on going.

  “He’s backing him practically the whole length of the ring!” Stevie said in awe.

  “In a Western reining show class, sometimes that’s what you have to do,” Kate explained.

  When John and Tex reached the far end of the corral, the four girls burst into applause. John tipped his hat and trotted toward them. “You don’t know how long it took us to get that right,” he said.

  “I believe it,” said Carole.

  Lisa was speechless, just grinning at John.

  “Now I’ve got to work on these pivots.” John rode to the fence opposite them.

  “A pivot is different in a reining class than in a dressage class,” Kate explained. “You’ll see right away.”

  John brought Tex to a lope at the far end of the corral, parallel to the fence.

  “He’s really close to the fence, isn’t he?” said Stevie.
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  A second later she gasped. John had stopped Tex on a dime. Tex pushed off with his right foreleg, reared up a bit, turned ninety degrees, and landed—facing the girls.

  Finally John rode over to his audience.

  “You were great!” Lisa beamed.

  “You two really look like you know what you’re doing,” said Kate.

  John patted Tex’s neck. “Thanks. Tex and I’ll be entering some shows in a few months, and I guess if we work every day—”

  “You’ll be ready,” Carole finished for him.

  “She’s right, John,” Kate added. “And Carole ought to know. She’s ridden in some pretty tough shows.”

  Carole blushed and glanced at her watch. “Do you think these lazy parents of ours are still asleep?”

  “Nope,” came Walter’s deep voice. “They’ve been up longer than you. I put them all on their horses at seven-thirty this morning.”

  “What?” Stevie blanched. “All five of them?”

  “All five,” Walter confirmed. “Carole, your dad said they’d have no problem. Said he’s a volunteer at your Pony Club. Seems he knows the ropes.”

  “Seems is right.” Carole hopped down from the fence. “He doesn’t have a clue.”

  “Neither do any of the others!” Stevie practically shouted.

  Walter stared at the girls with a lopsided grin. “I’ve watched your folks ride. I’m sure they’ll be okay.”

  Lisa shook her head. “You don’t know our parents, Walter. They don’t understand that riding is serious business—not just fun.”

  “We’d better go find them,” said Carole.

  Walter shrugged. “If that’s what you want to do.”

  As the girls headed toward the barn to collect their horses, Walter called after them. “I gave your parents directions for the little loop. They headed north first, then they ought to turn east at the edge of the first field, ride to the end of it, and head back south by southwest.”

  “Gotcha,” called Kate. The foursome saddled up their horses, mounted quickly, then headed out. Kate led the girls along the path Walter had mapped out, only she started at the end and went in the opposite direction.

  “If we go this way, we can head them off,” Lisa commented, realizing what Kate was up to. “I hope they’re okay.”

  They started trotting.

  “They’ve been gone over two hours on a ride that should take less than one,” said Stevie.

  “Could they have gotten lost?” Lisa asked.

  “What if one of them fell?” Carole bit her lip. “And got badly hurt?”

  They broke into a lope, then a gallop.

  But there was no sign of the parents.

  Kate slowed Moonglow. “If your folks are off the trail, we may miss them,” she said. “Let’s trot for a while.” The others followed.

  Stevie gazed around at the desert brush.

  “Are there rattlers during this time of year?”

  “There are always rattlers,” Kate said.

  This time they all panned the landscape.

  The first sign of parents that Stevie saw was Colonel Hanson’s black ten-gallon hat on top his head. The five parents were riding out of a patch of woods and heading toward them. Mrs. Lake, on Shoofly, was directly behind the colonel, ambling along. Stevie’s father was behind her, and as they approached, Stevie could hear him serenading the group with “Red River Valley.”

  “I can’t believe it,” said Stevie. “They get us really worried and here they are, moseying along, singing ‘Red River Valley.’ Couldn’t you just scream?”

  The girls trotted up to their parents.

  “Where have you been?” asked Carole. “We were so worried!”

  The parents exchanged a chuckle.

  “You were worried about us?” Mr. Atwood said.

  “Did you stick to the trail Walter mapped out?” Stevie demanded.

  “What’s the matter, don’t you trust us?” Mr. Lake shook his head at his daughter. “Of course we stuck to the trail.”

  “And what if we didn’t?” said Mrs. Atwood.

  Lisa shook her head. “Mom, have you ever heard of rattlers?”

  “You girls are overreacting!” Mrs. Atwood responded. “You saw how well we did yesterday, and we did just as well today. I’ll have you know …”

  As she spoke, Mrs. Atwood yanked on Spot’s reins. He kept pulling back, yawning with his mouth and trying to get the bit out of his way.

  “Mom!” said Lisa. “Pleeease loosen up on your reins. If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t be handling Spot that way.”

  “Young lady,” Mrs. Atwood began sharply, “I really don’t think you should speak to me like that.”

  Lisa noticed her mother did loosen up on the reins, though.

  “Sorry, Mom,” said Lisa, sighing with relief.

  Carole and Berry had ridden up next to Lisa. When Mrs. Atwood wasn’t looking, Carole shot Lisa a secret smile. Lisa knew Carole was proud of her for giving her mother some instructions—even if it did mean risking her mother’s anger.

  “Let’s go back,” Lisa said. She and Carole turned and led the group back the way the girls had come.

  AT LUNCHTIME THE next day, after everyone had gathered around the table, Frank Devine cleared his throat. “I have some exciting news for everyone.”

  Everyone turned toward him. Exciting news? thought Lisa. What could it be?

  “We have to move our cattle back to the south pasture,” he continued. “Right now they’re all over in one of the far northwestern ones.”

  Stevie punched the air. “Yaaahoooo! A cattle drive!”

  “Right you are, Stevie,” answered Frank with a wide grin. “I thought it’d be fun for everybody to come along.”

  “Including us Saddlebags?” Stevie’s mother asked.

  “Of course,” Frank replied.

  “Oh, that does sound like fun,” said Mrs. Atwood.

  Carole looked around the table pensively. Fun? She wasn’t so sure. She loved cattle drives, but they usually involved lots of hard work. Would the Saddlebags really be up to it? She tapped nervously on her water glass.

  Stevie and Lisa had grown quiet too. Carole could tell they were having similar thoughts.

  When the meal was finished, Stevie cut herself some apple pie and sat next to Carole.

  Colonel Hanson turned to his daughter. “You’re quiet, honey. Don’t you have faith in us?”

  “Well, Dad, it’s just that cattle drives aren’t as easy as they look in the movies. You’re in the saddle the whole day long, and sometimes things can happen—”

  “Carole, dear, you know we’re getting the hang of it,” Mr. Lake said.

  “We might be the Saddlebags, and we might not be ready to rope a little dogie and stay on our horse at the same time,” said Mrs. Lake, “but I’m game.”

  “What’s a little dogie anyway?” asked Mr. Atwood. “Isn’t it some kind of submarine sandwich?”

  “Daaaad!” said Lisa, turning red over her father’s pun on hoagies, which was what such sandwiches were called in some places. “A little dogie is a motherless calf! Sometimes they get separated from the herd on the drive and you have to rescue them.”

  “I could do that,” said her mother. “I bet they’re cute.”

  “They are,” Lisa answered, shaking her head. “But it’s not that simple.” She paused to take a deep breath. “You know how Max is always telling us that riding is fun, but it’s serious too?”

  “Mmmhm,” answered Mr. Atwood.

  “Well, I just think you need to be aware that it can get very serious sometimes.”

  “We take it seriously enough,” said Mrs. Lake, waving one hand dismissively. “Frankly, I don’t see why you girls are getting so nervous. You’re being the party poopers around here, not us. I can’t wait to sleep under the stars.…”

  “And listen to my serenade,” said Mr. Lake. “ ‘I’m a headin’ for my first roundup!’ ”

  Frank rose from hi
s chair. “You’ll all be fine. You girls can keep your parents in line. Now it’s siesta time. I’ll see everyone later.”

  THE GIRLS TOOK to their bunkhouse for the next hour. Their siesta time would be perfect for a much-needed Saddle Club meeting.

  Stevie stretched out on her top bunk and looked up at the beams in the roof. “Hmph,” she said. “Frank thinks they’ll be okay.”

  “And that we can keep them in line,” added Lisa grimly. “I bet they’ll be harder to handle than those stray dogies.” She groaned. “Speaking of dogies—did you hear my father making that dumb joke about submarine sandwiches? That was classic!”

  Kate giggled. “He’s just showing his dude colors.”

  Lisa groaned again.

  “I don’t know about you guys,” said Carole as she took off her boots and stretched out on her bunk, “but I thought my dad looked worse than ever on the ride this morning. He sways back and forth with Yellowbird’s gait, and the hat bounces left and right and it makes me dizzy! Either the hat’s going to fall off his head or he’s going to fall out from under the hat. I don’t know which’ll happen first!”

  “I think if my dad bursts into song one more time,” Stevie chimed in, “I may take my hat off and send it sailing straight at him.”

  “And my mom’s riding is making me sick,” Lisa said. “I mean, how could she be my mom? Maybe, once upon a time, she had a riding lesson. But if she did, it was at the yank-and-kick school of riding.”

  “Look, guys,” said Kate, “tons of the guests who come here are rank beginners. A lot of them know even less than your parents do—and they manage just fine. The only ones who really give us trouble are the people who think they can do more than they actually can. That can lead to danger.”

  “That’s just it,” said Carole. “I think—I know—my dad thinks he’s much more capable than he really is.”

  “Same with my parents,” Stevie declared.

  Lisa said, “Mine too.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Kate suggested. “Why don’t we invite all the parents to join us tomorrow morning before the cattle drive, while we watch John train with Tex?”

  “Good idea,” said Lisa, quickly catching on to Kate’s idea. “Then they’ll see how much technique it takes to be an excellent rider, and it’ll be fresh in their minds for the ride.”

 

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