English Horse (6 page)

Tessa raised her hand quickly. “I know!” she exclaimed. “They’re British.”

Veronica let out a loud snort. “Do you think
everything
comes from England?” she said sarcastically. “Come on. Everybody knows that Cleveland is in Ohio. That means Cleveland Bays must be American.”

Carole did her best to keep from laughing out loud. “No, Tessa is right,” she said. “The Cleveland Bay is the oldest native horse breed in Britain.”

“Right,” Tessa said. “Clevelands and Cleveland crosses have been kept as carriage horses in the Royal Mews in London since the nineteen twenties.”

Mrs. Pennington looked impressed. “Right again,” she said with a smile. “I must admit, it was a bit of a trick question.” She nodded to Veronica. “So don’t feel too bad, young lady. You aren’t the first person I’ve talked to who thought my boys came from Ohio.”

Lisa was used to Carole’s encyclopedic knowledge of all things equine. Still, it was impressive that she knew about the Cleveland Bay breed—Tessa, too. And if Lisa was impressed, she knew that Veronica had to be positively irate. “See?” she whispered to Stevie. “We don’t have to play pranks to make Veronica look bad. She does it all by herself!”

Mrs. Pennington went on. “In the old days, Cleveland Bays were generally used for farmwork or as packhorses,
and they were used for hunting and coaching, as they are now. These days, when the breed is crossed with Thoroughbred blood, you can get an outstanding jumper or hunter.” The woman put her team through a few more paces. Then she climbed out of the cart and answered questions from the group.

By the time the meeting came to an end, The Saddle Club had almost forgotten about Veronica’s mistake about the Cleveland Bays. But Veronica clearly hadn’t forgotten. As Max dismissed the group, Veronica got up and quickly hurried past the four Saddle Club girls, who were still seated on the ground. As she passed, the toe of her polished boot came down squarely on Tessa’s hand.

“Ow!” Tessa cried, quickly pulling her hand away.

“Hey!” Stevie exclaimed. “Watch where you’re putting your big feet!”

Veronica paused and gazed down at the other girls with a nasty smile. Then she turned her head and saw that Max was looking toward them and frowning.

“I’m
sooo
sorry, Tessa!” Veronica said loudly in a sugary voice. “I didn’t see your hand there. I do hope you’re okay?”

Tessa managed a small smile. “I’m fine,” she said, clutching her injured hand to her chest. “It just smarts a bit, that’s all. No real harm done.”

“Oh, good.” Veronica spun around and continued toward the stable building as Max turned to help the Penningtons with their horses.

“Did you see that?” Stevie hissed. “She did that on purpose! She only apologized because Max was looking.”

“Are you all right?” Lisa leaned over to get a look at Tessa’s hand.

Tessa held it out gingerly for inspection. “I’ll survive,” she assured her friends. “Do you really think Veronica did that intentionally?” The corners of her mouth turned up in a mischievous grin. “If so, you know what that means. This is war!”

Carole gave Lisa a worried glance. Stevie and her big mouth! If Tessa thought that Veronica had stepped on her on purpose—which of course she had—she would want to get back at her. That meant pulling pranks, and that meant The Saddle Club would be in big trouble. Maybe keeping their probation a secret from their visitor hadn’t been such a good idea after all. “Come on,” she said, hoping to distract Tessa from thoughts of revenge. She stood up. “Let’s go inside and get some ice. That should make your hand feel better.”

“Good idea,” Lisa agreed, guessing what Carole was up to. “Stevie and I will join you in a second.” When Carole and Tessa had disappeared inside, Lisa whirled toward Stevie. “What’s the big idea?” she said. “The last thing we need right now is to start something between Tessa and Veronica. You know what Max will think about that!”

Stevie shrugged apologetically. “I know, I know,” she muttered. “But Veronica is such a jerk! You know she did
that on purpose because she thought Tessa was trying to make her look bad earlier.”

“I know,” Lisa said, “but we have to be careful.”

“You’re right.” Stevie sighed with frustration. “But it’s just as I thought. This situation with Veronica means one thing: big trouble.”

Lisa couldn’t help agreeing with that. “I know,” she said worriedly. “Veronica knows we’re on probation with Max. She knows we can’t retaliate no matter what she does.”

Stevie nodded grimly. “Who knows what else she’ll come up with to torture us?”

“G
OSH
, I
JUST LOVE
your accent, Theresa!” Simon Atherton gushed.

Stevie almost laughed out loud. She quickly took a big bite of her peanut butter and banana sandwich to stop herself. Simon, a member of Horse Wise, was one of the best-looking boys Stevie knew. He was also one of the nerdiest. He was just about the only person who called Stevie by her full name, Stephanie. And now he was doing the same thing to Tessa.

Another Horse Wise member, Betsy Cavanaugh, spoke up. “I heard you’re going to be riding in the point-to-point, Tessa,” she said breathlessly. “Do you go steeplechasing all the time in England?”

Tessa and her friends had come to The Saddle Club’s
favorite lunch spot, the shady hillside above the back paddock, to eat their lunches. At first it had just been the four of them, except for the mare and foal grazing on the lush summer grass below. But before long, various other members of Horse Wise had turned up to join them. Many of the young riders at Pine Hollow were curious about the British visitor, especially after hearing her smart answers in the meeting. By now there were almost a dozen people gathered on the hillside.

The American members of The Saddle Club didn’t really mind. They would have plenty of time to spend alone with their friend, and they were glad that everyone except Veronica seemed to like Tessa just as much as they did. Besides, Tessa was a friendly and curious person, and she seemed to be having fun talking to her new acquaintances.

Tessa set down her empty soda can. “I’ve ridden in a couple of small, informal meets,” she told Betsy. “I don’t really know that much about it, though—just what I’ve picked up from my dad and mum. They’re big fans.”

“You know a lot more about it than we do,” Meg Durham said, glancing around at her friends, who nodded in agreement. “I know there’s some steeplechasing in this area, like the Maryland Hunt Cup. But a lot of us have never even seen a steeplechase in person. What’s it like?”

Tessa smiled. “Oh, it’s good fun!” she said. “It’s really quite a lot like flat racing in some ways, though of course
the jumps make things even more interesting. The horses that participate in professional steeplechasing in England are all Thoroughbreds, just like regular racehorses. I think that’s true here in the States, too.”

Carole nodded. “I think you’re right,” she said. “I know one big difference, though. Or maybe you’d call it a
small
difference.” She grinned. “Steeplechase jockeys aren’t as tiny as regular jockeys.”

“That’s true,” Tessa said with a laugh, reaching over to grab a handful of Lisa’s potato chips. She popped the chips into her mouth.

“Did steeplechasing really start because a couple of guys wanted to race home?” Betsy asked.

Tessa finished chewing her chips before answering. “Well, they say that’s how the sport got its name.” She shrugged. “But my father once told me that back in the nineteenth century, racetracks used to hold special flat races meant for working hunters only. When some people started entering their regular racehorses in the hunter races, the tracks added fences to the hunter course to keep the flat racers from running away with all the prizes. And that’s how the professional sport really began.”

Stevie had finished her sandwich. She leaned back on the sun-warmed grass and made herself comfortable. “Wow,” she commented lazily. “Talk about a sport with history! Steeplechasing has it all: competition, intrigue, fun stories …”

Tessa grinned. “If you want to hear a fun story, listen to
this. Once upon a time, a group of British cavalry officers decided to have some fun. After dinner in their barracks, they put on their nightclothes—caps and shirts—over their military uniforms, saddled up their horses, and held an after-dark steeplechase race. It came to be called the Midnight Steeplechase.”

Tessa’s listeners laughed. “That sounds like fun!” Meg cried.

“I bet they looked awfully silly riding over fences in their pajamas,” Polly Giacomin said with a grin.

Stevie was grinning, too. But her smile faded a second later when she saw Veronica coming out the back door of the stable. Veronica squinted up at their group as if trying to figure out what was going on. When she spotted Tessa, she scowled, whirled around on her boot heel, and went back inside.

Stevie glanced at Tessa. The English girl was still laughing—she hadn’t even noticed Veronica’s brief appearance. “Good,” Stevie muttered.

“What?” Lisa asked, turning to her.

Stevie shrugged. “Nothing,” she assured her. “Nothing at all.”

“C
OME ON, WE
’
LL
show you to the tack room,” Carole said half an hour later.

It was time to get ready for jump class. The four Saddle Club girls hurried down the aisle toward the tack room.

Tessa rolled her eyes and smiled. “I already know where
the tack room is,” she said. “You showed it to me at least two or three times on my tour this morning, remember? You even showed me which saddle and bridle I’m to use for Topside.”

Stevie grinned. “That’s Carole for you,” she said. “When she gives a stable tour, she really makes it thorough.”

The girls hurried into the tack room. Other members of Horse Wise were also racing in and out as they prepared for class. Some were carrying saddles and bridles. Others held grooming buckets or spare boots. Everyone seemed to be rushing. The whole scene presented a kind of controlled chaos.

The tack room itself seemed rather chaotic as well. Almost every inch of the square room was crammed with saddles, bridles, cleaning supplies, trunks, bits, stirrup leathers and irons, blankets, martingales, buckets, saddle pads, spare girths, lunge lines and cavessons, halters, and every other piece of equipment imaginable. Newcomers were often amazed that anyone could find anything they needed in the packed space, but Pine Hollow regulars knew that there was actually a very logical method to the madness. The tack room had a place for everything and everything was kept in its place—or else. Max’s mother, known to one and all as Mrs. Reg, made sure of that as part of her duties of running the stable.

Carole dodged aside as Polly and Britt Lynn came rushing out with their horses’ tack. “Meet you out in the aisle
in two minutes,” Carole called to the rest of The Saddle Club, who nodded.

She quickly moved around the room, grabbing Starlight’s saddle and bridle, but paused when she heard a dismayed voice from nearby.

“Oh dear!” Simon Atherton exclaimed. “Oh dear!”

Carole stepped around Meg and Betsy, who were arguing over a pair of stirrup irons, until she could see what Simon was doing. “Oh dear is right,” she said when she saw the tangled mess of leather he was holding.

Simon heard and glanced up. “Oh, hello, Carole,” he said. “I seem to have gotten my reins tangled when I was taking down Patch’s bridle.” He shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know how I do it.”

Carole didn’t know, either. But she offered to help him untangle the reins. With both of them working, it took only a few minutes.

“Thanks,” Simon said gratefully.

Carole smiled at him and picked up her own tack again. Then she made her way through the crowd, heading for the doorway. She had nearly reached the door when Veronica came barreling in, almost crashing into her. Carole stopped short and jumped aside just in time to avoid a collision.

“Watch it!” Veronica snapped, glaring at Carole. “You could have knocked me over. And these are new breeches!”

Carole just rolled her eyes and stepped back to let the
other girl pass. Veronica was the one who had been moving too fast, but Carole knew better than to argue about it—especially now. “Sorry,” she said simply.

Veronica scowled and didn’t reply. As soon as she had stalked past, Carole continued on her way, emerging into the hallway once again.

Stevie and Lisa were already outside waiting for her. “Where’s Tessa?” Lisa asked.

Carole shrugged. “It’s a madhouse in there,” she said. “I didn’t even see her. Maybe she’s having trouble finding Topside’s stuff.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll find it,” Stevie said. “Just give her a second.”

Sure enough, Tessa appeared in the doorway a moment later. But her hands were empty.

“Did you forget where Topside’s tack is?” Carole asked. “Sorry, we should have showed you again.”

Tessa shook her head, looking perplexed. “I remember perfectly where it was this morning,” she said. “But it’s not there now.”

“Really?” Lisa said. “Are you sure you’re looking in the right place? Our tack room can be kind of confusing.”

Tessa shrugged. “I thought I had it right,” she said. “But I suppose I must have gotten mixed up.”