Silver Stirrups Page 8

  “Well, boy,” she said to Starlight, her voice grim, “we’re in it now, and there’s nothing we can do except try to win that trophy.”

  As she led Starlight out of the ring, Carole saw a figure slip away into the barn. She hurried through the door to see who it was—and caught a glimpse of Andrea Barry disappearing around the corner.

  “Of all the nerve!” Carole muttered, her brown eyes flashing. Here she’d been trying to be mature about Andrea, and all the while Andrea had been spying on her! Why the heck was she lurking around Pine Hollow so late? Didn’t she ever leave the stables? Was she trying to beat Carole by putting in more time than her? Carole’s jealousy came flooding back. The girl had everything! Couldn’t she at least let Carole ride in peace?

  Half crying, half sputtering with anger, Carole marched back to the cross-ties, Starlight in tow. She was going to get to the bottom of this right now. Over the years, The Saddle Club had learned to put up with Veronica diAngelo. But Pine Hollow wasn’t big enough for two conniving spoiled brats!

  CAROLE GOT STARLIGHT untacked and put away in five minutes flat. She was going to have it out with Andrea Barry once and for all. Leaving her saddle and bridle on a hay bale, Carole went in search of the younger girl. She checked the locker room and the grain room. She looked inside the barn and outside. She even went up to the hayloft. But Andrea was nowhere to be found. “She’s hiding,” Carole guessed, tapping her foot angrily. Then suddenly she knew where Andrea would be. Carole spun on her heel and strode to Country Doctor’s stall. The chestnut gelding stuck his nose out to say hi. Carole gave him a distracted pat, then peered in. At first she saw no one. But then she heard something. It sounded like crying. Carole listened harder. It not only sounded like crying, it was crying, unmistakably.

  “Andrea?” Carole said uncertainly. The wind seemed to have been let out of her sails.

  After a minute, a small voice said, “I’m okay. Really.”

  “Are you sure?” Carole asked. She’d been so ready to yell at Andrea that she didn’t know what to say.

  “Yes, positive. Go away. I’ve just got allergies. I’m fine, really.”

  Carole remained standing outside the stall, unconvinced. A moment later, she heard Andrea start to cry again. That decided her. Gently she pulled back the bolt and entered the stall. “Easy, boy,” she said to Doc. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. Then she saw Andrea in the far corner of the stall. Her brown hair was tangled, and her face was streaked with tears.

  “What—What’s wrong?” Carole asked. In spite of herself, she felt sorry for Andrea.

  Andrea tried to speak but choked on her words. Finally she said, “I guess I’m just nervous about the show.”

  “You? Nervous?” Carole said without thinking. This was not the conversation she had expected to have with the new star riding student of Pine Hollow.

  Andrea sniffed. “I know it sounds silly, but I’ve never been to a show without my own instructor.”

  “But Max will be there,” Carole reminded her.

  “I know, but he’ll have so many other students to attend to. What if he doesn’t have time for me?” Andrea asked in a small voice. “He told me himself he’s going to be so busy on the day of the show that—”

  “Oh, he’ll have time for you, all right,” Carole said flatly.

  Andrea looked up, a hurt expression in her eyes.

  Instantly Carole wished she could take back her remark. “I—I didn’t mean that—”

  But Andrea was sobbing again. “I knew my dad shouldn’t have asked Max to give me so much extra time. But he wants the best for me, and he thought if I got a lot of private attention at first, it would help Doc and me adjust … after the move. You probably think it’s silly that I had a private lesson, don’t you?”

  Had Carole heard right? Had Andrea’s father requested that Max spend more time with his daughter? “No, not silly,” Carole said truthfully. She tried for a lighthearted response, hoping to cheer Andrea up: “Just expensive.”

  To Carole’s dismay, Andrea only cried harder. She had stood up and was weeping into Doc’s reddish brown mane. Carole had done the same with Starlight many times. Her heart went out to Andrea as she struggled to find comforting words. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with expensive as long as you can afford expensive,” she said encouragingly. “It’s just that, well, my dad doesn’t really believe in spending a lot of money on riding. Or, at least, more than he already does.”

  “But that’s just it,” Andrea sobbed. “We can’t afford it. My dad works three jobs to pay for Doc! Ever since my mom died, he’ll do anything to make me happy! Anything! It’s no good trying to tell him that private lessons and custom boots and even a horse like—like Doc won’t make up for her being gone!” Overcome with sorrow, Andrea couldn’t go on.

  Gravely, quietly, in a voice barely above a whisper, Carole said, “Your mother’s dead?”

  Andrea nodded, her cheek against Doc’s neck. “She died a year ago.”

  Carole felt the strength ebb from her legs. She leaned against the stall door. She took a breath. Then she stood up and put an arm around Andrea’s shoulder. “Andrea, my mother’s dead, too,” she said.

  * * *

  WHENEVER LIFE GOT too intense, The Saddle Club had one tried-and-true remedy: They went on a long trail ride. “Wait right here,” Carole said to Andrea, when they had both managed to stop crying. Andrea looked confused but agreed. Carole left the younger girl and hurried to the other end of the stalls. Although Starlight and Doc had been worked already, a trail ride wouldn’t have done them any harm. But Carole thought a change of horse would be good for both her and Andrea. After checking with Mrs. Reg, she ran and tacked up two of the school horses, Delilah and Barq. Then she led both of them outside to the mounting block. “Okay, Andrea!” she called.

  When Andrea appeared, Carole said, “We’re going trail riding. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

  Before Andrea could object, Carole handed Delilah’s reins over and mounted Barq. Andrea seemed shocked into obedience. She sprang neatly onto the palomino’s back and followed Carole to the head of the trail.

  “… so when I lost my mom, I threw myself into riding, too,” Carole was saying twenty minutes later.

  “I know,” said Andrea. “I mean, I didn’t know about your mother, but all I ever hear around here is how dedicated Carole Hanson is, how good Carole Hanson is. Can I be honest? It’s sort of hard for me. You see, at my old barn, Doc and I were the stars.”

  Carole couldn’t believe her ears. “But you’re the stars here, too!” she blurted out.

  “Yeah, maybe for about an hour—since we did well at the schooling show. But you should hear Max go on about you. He keeps telling me I ought to ride with you because I would learn a lot. Today he said I should go watch you school Starlight so that I could figure out how to ride without an instructor at my side all the time.”

  “He did!” Carole exclaimed. Her heart felt lighter than it had in days. How could she have been so paranoid? With a rush of remorse, she remembered all the misjudgments she’d made about Max and Andrea over the weekend.

  “And he told me how you trained Starlight yourself. I could never do that,” Andrea said wistfully. “It’s all I can do to control Doc. I’ve let him get into so many bad habits that he’s a one-woman horse now. Nobody else can do a thing with him. Whereas Starlight has beautiful manners, doesn’t he?”

  “You know, I never thought of it that way. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t make Doc behave the other day,” Carole said.

  “And I was so embarrassed that you saw what a spoiled horse I have! I’m a little better with him now, but I’ve let him get his own way for so long that it’s tough.” Suddenly Andrea’s voice had a catch in it again. She rode Delilah up beside Barq. “But even if he is spoiled, Carole, I’d die if we had to sell him! I don’t know how long Dad can keep up this schedule! It’s awful for him, just awful. You should see how tired he look
s …”

  Carole listened thoughtfully as Andrea described her father’s three jobs. Then she put on her best teacherly voice. Andrea was in need of guidance, and Carole was going to give it to her. After all, she was one year older, and at least one year wiser. “In the first place,” she said, sternly but kindly, “has it ever occurred to you that you could help keep Doc?”

  Andrea frowned. “Not really, no.”

  “Well, you can. Stevie and Lisa and I help out at Pine Hollow almost every afternoon. We muck stalls, groom, get horses ready for lessons—whatever Max needs done. If you were willing to work, Max might be willing to make a deal with you. Maybe he’d charge less for board or give you some free lessons. And secondly, you don’t need all the fancy equipment you have. You could sell some of it and make money that way. Part of being a good horseperson is being independent—not needing to be babied. You’re an excellent rider, Andrea. You don’t need an instructor at your side every minute. You don’t need the most expensive custom-made tack. You can do it on your own.”

  Carole glanced at Andrea to see how she was taking all this. Andrea was staring at her in amazement. “How did you get to be so independent? You’re only a year older than I am!” she cried.

  Carole thought hard. “I guess my father taught me that,” she said. “He taught me that feeling sorry for yourself never helps.”

  “That sounds like good advice,” said Andrea.

  “Yeah,” said Carole, her mind drifting back to the talk she’d had with her father after the schooling show, “except when you misinterpret it.”

  “Huh?” said Andrea, puzzled.

  Carole smiled as she nudged Barq into a trot. “Once in a while I forget that taking responsibility for yourself doesn’t mean making enemies of everyone else,” she said.

  The girls trotted through the woods, eventually looping back toward Pine Hollow. It was evening now, but the late spring sun had not yet set.

  “So I guess this horse show stuff is old hat to you, huh?” Andrea said, as they walked the horses cool.

  “Sort of,” Carole admitted. “You too, right?”

  “Not really,” said Andrea. “At least not anymore. Doc and I have won a lot up North. But Briarwood should be a real challenge—new courses, new judges, new competition. I just wish I had my old coach here. Just to help us get our bearings …”

  There was that word again: challenge. It seemed to be haunting Carole. It bothered her. It almost felt as if someone was trying to tell her something.

  “Hey, you girls are out late,” said a voice.

  Carole turned and saw Red. He had finished raking the aisles and was taking a rare moment off to watch the horses at play in the near pasture.

  “Yeah, we had some things to discuss,” Carole said.

  “Say, why don’t you let me take Barq and Delilah in?” Red offered. “You probably want to get home to dinner. It’s a school night, isn’t it?”

  Carole and Andrea tried to refuse, but Red insisted on helping. Finally they handed over Delilah and took Barq themselves. On their way in, they met Max, hurrying out. “You girls finally went riding together,” Max observed. “Good.”

  “I can sure see why you said Carole’s going to make a great instructor someday,” Andrea said.

  Max beamed. “I hope so,” he said, elbowing Carole, who had turned bright red at the compliment. “But I’m afraid she might bail out and become a veterinarian instead. Then Dr. Barker and I will have to fight over who gets to hire her.”

  Carole watched Max’s rapidly retreating back. She couldn’t believe the turn the day had taken. That was the nicest thing Max had ever said to her in her whole life. Maybe her dreams weren’t so crazy after all! If Max thought she could be an instructor someday, maybe she would! She felt as if she were brimming over with happiness. And all because Andrea Barry had been crying and Carole had comforted her!

  “DAD,” CAROLE SAID at dinner that night. She’d gotten home so late that they were eating take-out Chinese at the kitchen table. “What do you do on base when there’s a bad situation and it turns out for the best? How do you celebrate?” she asked.

  She expected her father would have to think about his response for a minute. But Colonel Hanson answered right away. “Easy,” he said. “You always give back to the troops.”

  “What do you mean?” Carole asked, twirling noodles around her chopsticks.

  “If something great happens that makes my job easier, I turn right around and try to share the wealth. I try to show my appreciation by giving something to the men and women who work for me. I try to make their jobs easier. Any good leader does. Does that answer your question?”

  “What if the troops weren’t exactly working for you?” Carole asked.

  “The same principle applies, honey, whether it’s your coworkers or your boss or your friends or your family. You should try to give more than you receive. It’s not always possible, but sometimes it is. Any time you can afford to be generous, you should be. And speaking of generosity,” Colonel Hanson said, his dark eyes twinkling, “pass the lo me in, would you?”

  ANDREA PICKED UP the phone on the second ring. When Carole told her she was going to have an instructor for the show, Andrea shrieked with joy. When Carole told her who the instructor would be, she shrieked again. “But what about Starlight?” Andrea asked, concerned. “He’s all trained and fit and ready to go.”

  “I know,” said Carole. “Don’t worry about him. He’s not going to stay behind. I’m lending him to a friend.”

  Then Carole telephoned Max.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m copping out,” she said. “Heck, I hope I’m not copping out. But I’m not riding at Briarwood. I decided to help Andrea instead. She thinks she needs an instructor, and I said I’d help.”

  Max’s brief answer removed any doubts she had: “Carole,” he said, “I’m proud of you.”

  That left just Stevie and Lisa. Would they be proud of her? Carole sighed. It was going to take so much explaining. She would have to make them understand that the decision had been hard, and yet she knew it was the right thing to do. A part of her still wanted a showdown with Andrea. A big part of her wanted the Silver Stirrups Trophy shining on her bookshelves. But she had a lot of trophies shining on her bookshelves. She didn’t often have the chance to give something back to the people she cared about and to help someone in need. Carole sighed again. Before she got into any of that stuff, she was going to have to explain about Andrea: that she wasn’t a spoiled brat, that her mother had died, that her father worked three jobs …

  “GIVE ME A coffee—black,” Carole said.

  The man behind the snack bar filled a Styrofoam cup. “That’ll be sixty cents, lady,” he said. Then he saw who had ordered it. He raised his eyebrows. “You’re sure you want this? Black?”

  Carole nodded. All the other riding instructors drank black coffee at horse shows. Why not her?

  Walking back to the Pine Hollow van, she took a sip. It was utterly disgusting. She decided she would walk around with the coffee instead of actually drinking it. At least that way she would look legitimate.

  The van area was bustling with activity. Carole paused to take in the sight. Usually she was so busy getting herself ready that she hardly had time to appreciate the scene a horse show created. But today she could. The morning rain had stopped and the sun was coming out. Horses and riders hurried to and fro, each pair looking more polished than the last. That reminded Carole that she ought to be getting her charge ready for the first class.

  At the Pine Hollow van, Red was helping Stevie, Lisa, and Andrea get ready. Because Max was so busy with his adult students, Red and Carole had volunteered to take over the juniors for the morning.

  “Carole, will you give me a leg up?” Lisa asked, trying to hold Prancer still. “Prancer’s living up to her name this morning.”

  Carole gave Lisa ten fingers to help her mount. “Good luck, Lisa. Now, don’t let her get lazy,” she advised.


  “Lazy? But the fences are only two-foot-six. We’re used to jumping much higher at home,” Lisa said, straightening her hard hat with one hand.

  Carole swiped Lisa’s boots with the rag she was keeping in her back pocket. “Exactly: She might be bored with the jumps today. It’s up to you to keep her awake.”

  As soon as Red went off to warm Lisa up, Carole found Andrea. She was getting dressed in the cab of the van. “Come on, Andrea, you should be getting on soon,” Carole told her.

  “I know, but I’m just so nervous,” Andrea said. “My dad’s here, you know. He took the day off so he could watch me. And everybody looks so good. I—”

  “Enough. You’ve got to banish all those thoughts. You’ll feel much, much better once you’re on. So hop to it. I’ll get Doc out of the van.”

  Carole had to hide a grin as she turned away. She couldn’t believe how much she sounded like a real instructor!

  Carole unloaded Doc, who had been bathed, braided, and saddled. Like most experienced show horses, he didn’t seem at all fazed by the commotion. That was good. If he stayed quiet, Andrea would relax, too. “I’m counting on you, boy,” Carole told the chestnut. Doc cocked an ear forward. “I’ll take that as a promise to be good,” she murmured.

  Soon Andrea had mounted. Carole carried Andrea’s coat to the warm-up area and put Andrea right to work. There was no point in standing around. It only made the horses tired and the riders nervous. Carole joined the instructors who were barking out commands in the middle of the grassy circle.

  “Heels down over the fence, Linda! How many times do I have to remind you?”

  “Don’t let him pull, Robby! Get his head up!”

  “Three-two-one—now! Nope. Too late. Circle around and do it again!”

  Carole took a deep breath. “Looking good, Andrea! Looking really good!” she yelled.

  An older woman with a leathery face and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth addressed Carole. “That your sister?”

  “No, she’s my student, actually,” Carole said, hoping she sounded natural.