Setting the Pace Read online

  And of course, having Scott around doesn’t help my concentration much, Lisa admitted as Scott came toward her, leading Windsor.

  Not wanting to risk another steamy moment just then, Lisa smiled at him encouragingly and then turned to hurry up the hill toward her own horse. The rational, logical part of her mind was taking over once again, telling her that she had to stay in control. Getting in any deeper with Scott right then would be a mistake. Not only because she might be moving soon, making it all sort of pointless, but also because of Alex.

  New Year’s Eve is tomorrow, she reminded herself. That’s when Alex and I agreed to talk again and figure out where to go from here.

  Stevie had mentioned that Alex was planning on coming to Red and Denise’s wedding, so Lisa figured the two of them would have a chance to talk sometime during the evening. Her stomach flipped over nervously as she wondered what he would say. Would he want to get back together? What would she say if he did? What did she want to happen?

  She had no idea, and seeing Scott leading his horse up the hill toward her wasn’t helping her decide. “Everything okay?” she called, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “Could be warmer,” Scott replied with a wry smile. He stopped the horse and swung back into the saddle, which let out an audible squish as he sat down. “Not to mention drier. But I think we’ll both live.”

  Lisa nodded and remounted. “We’d better head back,” she said, both relieved and disappointed at having to cut the ride short. “I don’t want Windsor to get chilled. Or you, either.”

  Scott smiled but didn’t reply. For some reason that made Lisa blush yet again.

  A flash of movement caught her eye on the trail ahead. She turned and saw a rider coming toward them at a trot. Squinting, she saw that the horse was a gray.

  “Look, I think that’s George,” she said.

  Scott glanced up the trail and nodded. “Wonder what he’s doing out here all alone?”

  Lisa shrugged, though she wasn’t as surprised as Scott seemed to be to find George riding solo. George wasn’t exactly a social butterfly—in fact, now that Lisa thought about it, she wasn’t sure he had any real friends at all, especially now that Callie had dropped him.

  George had already spotted them. He waved and brought Joyride down to a walk as he approached them. “Hi, you two!” he called. Apparently noticing Scott’s wet clothes, his smile turned to a frown of worry. “Uh-oh. What happened?”

  Scott smiled sheepishly. “Windsor decided to take a bath. Unfortunately, he failed to inform me first, so I ended up taking it with him.”

  “Are you okay?” George glanced anxiously from Scott to Lisa and back again. “It’s awfully cold for that sort of thing.”

  “Tell me about it,” Scott said with an exaggerated shudder. “We were just about to head for home to dry off.”

  George nodded. “I was heading back to the stable myself,” he said. “I’ll ride with you.”

  Lisa felt a flash of annoyance at the way George had just bumbled along and inserted himself into their ride, completely clueless as usual about the fact that he might not be welcome. But then she reminded herself that George’s presence was probably a blessing in disguise.

  Having him along means Scott and I aren’t alone, she thought as the three of them turned and headed down the trail toward the narrow crossing. She let her reins go slack and slumped slightly in the saddle, letting Checkers follow along at the end of the line. And not being alone means I don’t have to deal with whatever is going on between us. At least not today.

  TEN

  Carole paused and glanced in the window of a men’s clothing store, briefly wondering how Cam would look in the suede jacket on the mannequin. Then she shook her head.

  No matter how desperate I am, there’s no way I could afford that, she reminded herself, moving on down the mall. Anyway, I don’t even know if Cam would like something like that. I have no idea what he would like. Aargh!

  She chewed her lower lip as she reached the next store, a card shop. New Year’s Eve was the next day, and she was no closer to finding the perfect gift for Cam now than she’d ever been. Glancing into the store, with its shelves full of knickknacks and discounted Christmas items, she sighed.

  Then she perked up as she realized she had almost reached The Saddlery. “Of course!” she said aloud. “I’ll get him something there.”

  Smiling self-consciously at a couple of older women who were staring at her curiously, she moved on. So this is what it’s come to, she thought with a secret smile. I’m so desperate to find Cam a gift that I’m reduced to wandering around the mall talking to myself.

  She hurried into The Saddlery, breathing deeply as the intermingled smells of leather and liniment met her nose. Rubbing her hands together eagerly, she glanced around, wondering where to start. Would Cam like a new pair of breeches? Or maybe a riding video or something?

  Walking up and down the aisles, she checked out one item after another. She decided the breeches were a bad idea. For one thing, he had been riding in jeans and didn’t seem to mind it. Besides, she wasn’t sure of his size.

  She also rejected the possibility of getting him a riding book or video, since she wasn’t really sure what discipline he might be interested in, if any. Since he didn’t have his own horse anymore, it seemed silly to even consider buying him a piece of tack or a turnout sheet or some grooming equipment. And a new helmet cover or riding crop didn’t exactly make the sort of lavishly romantic statement she was looking for.

  Okay, maybe not, she decided at last, heading for the exit. There’s plenty of stuff here that I would love to buy, but Cam’s not quite as involved with riding as he used to be. I have to remember that. If I want to show him how special he is to me, I have to get him something he’ll truly appreciate, not something that I want him to appreciate.

  She sighed as she emerged into the mall once again, dodging out of the way as a small boy went racing down the aisle in the direction of the food court. Carole turned and headed the same way, deciding it was time to stop for something to drink and for some fast thinking. After ordering a soda at the closest stand, she glanced around for a table. The mall was crowded, though not as crowded as it had been before Christmas, and she soon spotted an available seat.

  Setting her purse on the table, she pulled out her chair and sat down heavily. All right, she told herself sternly. You’re out of time, so think. How can you show Cam how glad you are he came back into your life?

  Carole sipped her soda and thought hard about that. What could she give Cam that would express all that? What mere gift could sum up how she felt about him?

  Hoping for some inspiration, she took another sip of soda and then reached for her purse. She’d stuck a couple of the best photos from the batch she’d picked up Friday in her wallet. She pulled them out, staring at them thoughtfully.

  Then, like a miracle, inspiration struck. I’ve got it! Carole thought, gazing at the photo of her and Cam smiling for the camera. Part of what’s so special about being with Cam now is remembering how special he was to me back when we first met. Maybe I could make up a sort of photo history of that—Cam and me, then and now.

  She chewed her lip, wondering if that would be special enough. When she glanced at her watch, she realized it would have to do. She was almost out of time—her father was expecting her home in less than an hour.

  Quickly gulping down the rest of her soda, she headed back toward the card shop. Soon she was browsing through their wide selection of picture frames. She found a nice brass one with two spaces and picked it up, glancing at the price. Just as she was about to turn away, she spotted a beautiful silver frame. It was very simple in style; perfect for a guy’s room. The only trouble was, it had space for three photos rather than two.

  Nice, Carole thought, picking up the frame and running her thumb over its gleaming surface. I bet Cam would love this one. But what could I put in the third slot without ruining the past-and-present theme?

&n
bsp; Suddenly it clicked. What was the logical addition to a display showing the past and the present?

  The future, she thought with a gulp. I could leave the third space blank, and write a note explaining that it was where Cam could put a photo of us taken in the future—like on our one-year anniversary. The whole thing will be the perfect way to let Cam know how much his friendship has always meant to me, how happy I am that we’re together now, and how much I hope we’ll stay together for a long, long time.

  It made perfect sense. And more than that, it added the special, personal, romantic touch she’d been looking for.

  But could she do it? Could she open herself up like that, let him know how much she really cared? Let him know that she wanted her future to include him, wanted his future to include her? They had grown very close over the past weeks, but even so, it felt like a big step. Could she take it?

  “Yes,” she whispered, staring at the frame. She would do it. Cam was worth the risk. Besides that, she had a pretty good feeling about Cam’s response. He had told her he loved her after only a couple of dates. He would be sure to appreciate exactly this sort of gesture.

  Carole smiled and turned toward the register, which had a long line of customers, most of whom seemed to be returning or exchanging holiday gifts. Taking her place at the end of the line, Carole hugged the silver frame to her chest. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Cam’s face when he opened it the next day.

  It will be great, she thought. I can see it now: He’ll be so overwhelmed with emotion that he’ll be speechless for a moment. Totally overcome with love and with happiness that I feel the same way he does. Then he’ll get down on one knee and give me his gift—a giant, ninety-five-carat diamond engagement ring. He’ll explain that he’s wanted to pop the question since our first date, and in fact the whole plan for Red and Denise to get married was just a big ruse. It will actually be our wedding that will take place this New Year’s Eve! And then he’s going to sweep me off to, like, Paris or someplace for our honeymoon. No, maybe Vienna, so we can ride some of those Lipizzaners at the Spanish Riding School. And then we’ll live happily ever after, and I’ll never have to return to high school again.…

  She giggled, bringing curious glances from several of the other shoppers. Pursing her lips and trying to control herself, she smiled and amended her daydream slightly.

  Seriously though, he’ll probably realize what I’m trying to say right away, she thought with a shiver of anticipation. I won’t even have to say a word to explain. He’ll just take me in his arms, kiss me, and everything will be even more wonderful than it already is. Now, and in the future.

  Mrs. Atwood looked surprised when she opened her front door. “Stevie,” she said. “Hello. If you’re looking for Lisa, she’s not in at the moment.”

  “I’m not looking for Lisa.” Stevie took a deep breath, willing herself onward. This plan had seemed so simple back at the stable; but now, looking at Mrs. Atwood’s sour, slightly dismissive expression, she wasn’t so sure it was going to work after all. Still, she did her best to stay positive. “I’m looking for you, actually,” she went on. “We have to talk.”

  Mrs. Atwood blinked. “Pardon me?”

  “You and me,” Stevie replied. Was that right? she wondered. Or should I have said, “You and I?” Doing her best to put that aside, she cleared her throat. “That is, I need to speak to you about this idea of moving to New Jersey.”

  “I really don’t think there’s anything to discuss,” Mrs. Atwood said stiffly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Wait!” Stevie said desperately before Lisa’s mother could close the door on her. “Please. Can’t I just come in and talk to you for a second?”

  Mrs. Atwood sighed and glanced at her watch. “I don’t know, Stevie,” she said. “I’m very busy.”

  “Please!” Stevie hated to beg, but she was feeling desperate. All she needed was a few minutes alone with Mrs. Atwood. She was sure that if she could just get her to listen, she could make her understand why making Lisa move away from her home, especially in the middle of her senior year, was completely and utterly nuts. Of course, she was planning to put it a little more tactfully than that. That was the whole idea behind her plan—to follow Phil’s suggestion and try to be mature and reasonable. To talk to Mrs. Atwood, adult to adult, and convince her to change her mind.

  “Well …” Mrs. Atwood hesitated.

  That was all the opening Stevie needed. She stepped inside and smiled. “Great,” she said. “Come on, why don’t we sit down?”

  Mrs. Atwood frowned, and Stevie wondered if she’d broken some major rule of etiquette. Lisa’s mother was a real stickler about stuff like that. Oops, she thought. I guess since it’s her house, maybe she should have been the one to say whether we should sit down.

  Still, there was nothing she could do about that now. Pasting a cheerful, mature smile on her face, she followed Mrs. Atwood into the pristine, formally furnished living room and perched on the edge of a chair.

  “All right, then,” she said briskly. “I won’t waste your time. I just want to explain why it’s so important for you guys to stay right here, in Willow Creek.”

  Mrs. Atwood cleared her throat. She was still standing, her arms crossed over her chest as she gazed down at Stevie. “I don’t see how you have any input into that decision, Stevie.” Her voice was just as stuffy and formal as the surroundings. “That’s a choice that Lisa and I must make for ourselves.”

  “But that’s just it,” Stevie explained. “You’re not including Lisa in the decision making. She wants to stay here. She needs to stay here. It’s best for her.”

  “I think I’m a better judge of what’s best for Lisa than you are, Stevie,” Mrs. Atwood replied, her frown deepening the lines around her mouth and the corners of her eyes. “I am her mother.”

  Stevie took a deep breath, staring at the woman in front of her. Lisa’s mother. It was strange, but now that Stevie was there, she couldn’t remember ever having an actual conversation with Lisa’s mother before, even though Stevie had been in and out of the Atwoods’ home on a regular basis for years. It wasn’t that Stevie had trouble communicating with adults—on the contrary, she had warm, caring relationships with Carole’s father and both of Phil’s parents, as well as with Max and Deborah, several neighbors and former teachers, and any number of others. She was even on friendly terms with Lisa’s father, though she hadn’t seen much of him since he moved to California.

  But Mrs. Atwood was different. She had never seemed very interested in getting to know Lisa’s friends. Even now that they were all approaching college, she still treated them very much as she had when they were all giggling junior-high kids.

  So maybe this is hopeless, Stevie thought with a slight grimace. If she thinks of me as barely out of diapers, she’s not going to listen to anything I say. And if she thinks of Lisa the same way, it’s no wonder she’s not that interested in hearing about what she wants.

  Still, all she could do was try. “Okay,” she said anxiously. “But please, just hear me out for a minute.” Gathering her thoughts, she did her best to present the ideas she’d thought out so carefully that morning. It had all made sense at the time, but now that she heard the words coming out of her mouth, they sounded weak and unconvincing, even to her. You shouldn’t move. Lisa only has one more semester of high school. She needs to focus on getting ready for college, not on adjusting to a whole new high school. She won’t be able to get in-state tuition at NVU if she lives in New Jersey. Carole and I will miss her.

  When she’d come up with her plan, Stevie had pictured herself sort of as an intrepid journalist, laying out the facts and letting others draw their own conclusions. But what if a person didn’t want to read what a journalist wrote? What happened then?

  The whole system breaks down, that’s what, Stevie thought grimly as she stood up and meekly followed Mrs. Atwood to the door. A journalist can’t do any good if nobody reads what she writes.

&n
bsp; But a good journalist would at least try to make a difference. That’s what Stevie had done. It was all she could do, really.

  “Thank you for listening,” she told Mrs. Atwood as politely as she could manage. “Please think about what we’ve talked about, okay?”

  “Good-bye, Stevie.” Mrs. Atwood didn’t wait for further response before swinging the door shut in her face.

  Stevie stared at the closed door for a long moment. Then she sighed. “Man,” she muttered. “How in the sweet green world did Lisa turn out as normal as she did with that for a mother?”

  She turned and made her way slowly down the front path to the sidewalk. Maybe I would have been better off going with one of those wacky plans we were talking about before, she thought, kicking at a stone on the walk. It couldn’t possibly make things any worse.

  Had what she’d just done made things worse? There was no way of knowing. But at least she had tried. She would just have to try to find some comfort in that, no matter how things worked out in the end.

  ELEVEN

  Callie yawned as she walked into the kitchen the next morning. She hadn’t slept well—what else was new—and she was feeling groggy.

  “Good morning, sweetheart. Happy New Year’s Eve!” Callie’s mother looked up from her coffee and newspaper with a smile. “Want some breakfast?”

  “It’s okay,” Callie mumbled. “I’ll make myself some toast.”

  Mrs. Forester lowered her paper. “Are you sure?” she asked with concern. “You’re going to have a busy day today, what with that wedding and everything, and it’s sure to be a late night. You’ll need your energy.”

  “I said it’s fine!” Callie snapped. “All I want is toast.” She took a deep breath as she noticed the startled look on her mother’s face. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Um, thanks anyway.”

  She turned away quickly and started rummaging in the refrigerator for the butter and orange juice, hoping that her mother wouldn’t push it. When the rustle of the newspaper told her that her mother had returned to her reading, Callie closed the refrigerator door and stuck a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster. Taking a few deep breaths as the coils heated to bright orange, she tried to remain calm and act normal so that her mother wouldn’t notice anything was wrong.