Horse Guest (11 page)

The Saddle Club girls didn’t bother to answer.

They couldn’t locate Max anywhere in the stable. Finally they found Red in the grain shed, and he told them that Max was out on the trail with an adult class. When he heard why they needed him, the stable hand suggested talking to Mrs. Reg. “She knows practically everything there is to know about the nutty things horses do,” he said. “Besides, she’s got all those reference books in her office. Maybe you can check out some methods in one of them.”

“Great idea,” Stevie said. “Thanks, Red.”

The girls found Mrs. Reg in her office, working on some papers. When The Saddle Club entered, Mrs. Reg set down her pen and smiled at them. “What can I do for you three?” she asked.

Carole explained their mission. “We thought you might have some ideas,” she said.

Mrs. Reg stood and pulled a thick reference book off the shelf behind her desk. “Let’s take a quick look in here,” she said, flipping to the index.

Meanwhile, Stevie glanced at her watch. “Rats,” she muttered. “I’ve got to go soon. Grandma’s taking me and my brothers to the movies.”

“That doesn’t sound like anything to complain about,” Mrs. Reg commented, peering at Stevie over the top of the oversized book.

Stevie shrugged. “Normally it wouldn’t be,” she said. “But we’re seeing that new foreign movie
Garden of Tranquillity
. It’s all about some rose breeder from the nineteenth century. I heard there are only sixteen lines of dialogue in the entire movie—the rest just shows her digging around in the dirt and making flower arrangements and stuff. It sounds totally dull.”

Mrs. Reg looked surprised. “Why are you seeing it, then?” she asked. “I’m sure your grandmother doesn’t want to take you to a movie that’s going to bore you.” She laughed. “And I must admit, I’m having a hard time picturing you and your brothers sitting through a film like that.”

Stevie shrugged. “We told her we wanted to see it,” she admitted. “And it’s not really a lie. We
did
want to make sure to see something that won’t be too much for her.”

“Too much for her?” Mrs. Reg repeated questioningly.

Stevie quickly explained her concerns about her grandmother’s health.

“I see,” Mrs. Reg said thoughtfully. “That explains things.” She returned her attention to the book in front of her. “Now, let’s see what we can do about Magoo’s latest problem.”

“Why do you think Magoo is so difficult, Mrs. Reg?”
Lisa asked, perching on the arm of a chair near the office door.

“Probably for the same reason some people are difficult,” Mrs. Reg said. “No particular reason at all. He just likes a lot of attention and has figured out the best way to get it.” She ran her finger down the index and then turned to another page.

“Did you find anything?” Stevie asked expectantly after a moment, glancing at her watch again.

“Not yet,” Mrs. Reg said. She lowered the book once more and gazed at The Saddle Club. “Did I ever tell you the story of Little Red?”

All three girls shook their heads. Stevie sneaked another look at her watch. Mrs. Reg’s stories were legendary. They always had a specific point, but it usually wasn’t easy to recognize it at first. Most importantly, it was impossible to tell at the beginning of one how long it was going to be. Stevie was cutting things close as it was.

If Mrs. Reg noticed Stevie’s concern, she didn’t let on. “They called him Little Red because he was a little fellow, fourteen hands, two inches on the nose.” That was the maximum height at which an animal would be properly known as a pony. “Because of his size, Max tried for a long time to use him with the younger students.” The girls knew that the Max Mrs. Reg meant was the current Max’s father, her late husband. “But Little Red was just too feisty for the beginners. Finally Max decided he would
have to sell him. What could he do with a pony that wouldn’t do a pony’s job?”

She stopped talking. The girls waited for a moment. They knew that Mrs. Reg hated to be interrupted when she was telling a story. But when the woman started rustling through the pages of her book again, Carole couldn’t resist. “Well? What happened?” she asked. “Did he sell Little Red?”

Mrs. Reg shrugged. “Of course he did,” she said. “A buyer turned up almost immediately—a really petite teenager. She and Little Red won dozens of blue ribbons together in Open Jumper classes.”

“Don’t you mean the Hunter-Jumper Pony division?” Carole asked.

Mrs. Reg shook her head and smiled. “Nope,” she said. “You see, Max’s trouble was that he thought of Little Red as a pony. But Little Red thought of himself as a horse.”

Stevie checked the time again. At least this story had been a short one. She had no idea what Little Red and his height delusions had to do with Magoo. And she didn’t have time to try to figure it out. If they didn’t solve Magoo’s problem soon, she would have to leave her friends to deal with it without her.

Just then the phone rang. Mrs. Reg picked it up and listened for a moment, then asked the caller to hang on. “I’ve got to take this,” she said, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. “All of your ideas to stop Magoo from removing his bandages sound reasonable to me. Why
don’t you take the book with you and see if you can figure out which method they suggest?”

As Mrs. Reg returned to her call, Lisa scooped up the heavy book and carried it out into the aisle. Moments later the three girls were back at Magoo’s stall.

Lisa opened the book and quickly found the chapter on treating behavioral problems. “This book seems to think that leaving the horse in cross-ties when he’s alone is the easiest and most effective method,” she said after reading for a moment.

Stevie peered over her shoulder. “Really?” she said dubiously. “That’s only because they don’t know Magoo. I don’t think he’ll like that very much.”

Carole glanced at the horse, who was watching them curiously over the stall door. “Who knows?” she said. “You never can tell how a horse will react to something until you try it.”

That was good enough for Lisa. She slammed the big book shut. “Good,” she said. “Cross-ties it is, then. We’ll do it as soon as we repair the damage he’s already done to his bandages.”

Stevie gave her friends an apologetic look. “Listen, I’d love to help with that, but I’ve really got to go,” she said. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” Carole said. “Go ahead. You don’t want to be late for the movie.” She grinned. “I’d hate for you to miss the planting of the seeds at the beginning or anything. You might never figure out the rest of the plot.”

Stevie stuck her tongue out at her. “Very funny,” she said. “Just for that, I’m not even going to feel guilty about leaving you to finish Veronica’s stupid props, too.”

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Lisa said. “Maybe we can catch Britt when she’s finished practicing. I’m sure she’ll help out then.”

“Good,” Stevie said. She gave Magoo a good-bye pat on the nose and started to hurry away, but she stopped before she had gone more than half a dozen steps. Something had just occurred to her. She turned back to her friends. “Hey, did you ever wonder why Magoo is still here?” she asked. “I mean, I understand why Judy didn’t want him moved at first, but he’s really not in such bad shape anymore, especially these past few days. Elaine and her people at Hedgerow could deal with his fussiness just as well as we can—probably better. So why is he still here?”

Carole had wondered the same thing more than once in the past day or two, but she hadn’t said anything about it. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m sure Judy has her reasons.”

Lisa nodded. “Or maybe Max and Elaine worked something out.”

Stevie shrugged. “Okay,” she said, turning to go. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“… S
O DO YOU
see what I mean?” Stevie was saying the next day. “I just don’t think you’d have a good time.”

Her grandmother nodded thoughtfully and leaned back on the living room couch. “You’ve made some interesting points, Stevie,” she said.

Stevie held her breath. She had pulled out all the stops to convince Grandma Lake that coming to the gymkhana the next day would be a mistake. She had checked the weather forecast and found out that Saturday would be cold and windy—perfect weather for staying in the nice, cozy house. She had carefully described how dusty the indoor ring could get, especially with a lot of horses and
riders racing around in it. That was just terrible for the lungs. And she had explained that most of the games and races would be hard to follow if you hadn’t seen a gymkhana before. In fact, the whole show would probably be downright boring for someone like Grandma Lake.

“I can tell that you have my best interests at heart, dear,” Grandma Lake said. She picked up the deck of cards lying on the coffee table in front of her and started to shuffle them. Stevie’s mother was in the kitchen making some tea and sandwiches. When they were ready, the three of them were going to play a few rounds of cards. Stevie was glad that they didn’t have enough people for bridge. She had just learned to play, but she hated it already.

“I don’t want you to be bored, that’s all,” Stevie assured her grandmother.

“I know that. And—” Grandma Lake was interrupted by a sudden loud commotion in the hallway. A second later Michael slid past the open doorway on his stomach, his arms stretched out in front of him, holding a baseball cap to the floor. Stevie frowned. What was her brother doing? Didn’t he realize that their grandmother was in there?

“Stay right here, Grandma,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” She jumped out of her chair and hurried into the hall. “What’s going on out here?” she hissed.

Michael gazed up at her, still holding down the cap with both hands. “Sorry, Stevie,” he whispered back,
panting a little. “I couldn’t help it. Eenie and Meenie escaped. I had to catch them.”

Stevie frowned and glanced at the cap. For the first time, she noticed that it appeared to be wriggling. “You mean your white mice are under there?” she demanded, still keeping her voice low. “Are you crazy? If Grandma sees those rodents on the loose, she’ll have a heart attack!”

“I know,” Michael said sorrowfully. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I just opened the door of their cage to feed them, and they ran out.”

Stevie scowled. “Well, put them back right now,” she ordered him. “And if they get out again while Grandma’s here, I’ll sic Madonna on them.”

Michael’s eyes widened. Madonna was Stevie’s cat. Without another word, he carefully gathered the two white mice in the cap and scurried for the stairs.

Stevie returned to the living room. “Sorry about that, Grandma,” she said casually. “It was nothing to worry about. Michael just tripped.” She sat down. “Now, where were we?”

“I was just saying how much I appreciate your concern for me,” Grandma Lake said. “And I was going to go on to reassure you that I certainly don’t want to do anything that will endanger my health.”

“Really?” Stevie said. “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” her grandmother said with a smile. “I have no intention of spending tomorrow morning bored stiff.”

Stevie’s mother hurried into the room with a tray full of food. “Here we go,” she said. “This should hold us for a while. Tea, Stevie?”

Stevie nodded. She didn’t really like tea, but at the moment she was so relieved that she would have gladly accepted a cup of hot bran mash to drink. She had done it! She had talked her grandmother out of coming to the gymkhana! Nothing else mattered—not even the coming boring afternoon of ladylike card playing and tea drinking.

Grandma Lake picked up the cards again and started to deal them out. “Let’s play cards,” she said. “How about a few hands of old maid?”

A
T THE SAME
time that Stevie was playing her first hand of old maid, Carole and Lisa were at Pine Hollow. Once again, they were standing in front of Magoo’s stall, staring at him. Britt was with them. They had found her waiting for them there.

“Okay, so the cross-ties didn’t work,” Lisa said. “What’s next?”

As soon as they had arrived at the stable that day, Red had given them the bad news. Magoo had tolerated the cross-ties for just over an hour after they had left. Then he had kicked up such a ruckus that Max had been forced to spend an hour calming him down.

Carole bit her lip. “I can’t believe we have to replace all those bandages again,” she said. The bandages were
scattered all over the stall. Only a few remained on the horse.

“Don’t worry,” Britt said quietly. She reached for the latch on the stall door. “I’ll take care of it this time if you want.”

That made Carole and Lisa forget their irritation with Magoo. They exchanged yet another of the secret smiles that were becoming so frequent lately. The more time they spent with Britt, the more certain they were. She was definitely Saddle Club material. She fulfilled both rules every day without even realizing it. And even if she hadn’t yet opened up with them as much as they would like, the girls were sure that she would in time.

“Thanks, Britt,” Lisa said. “That’s really helpful of you. I’m afraid I’m starting to lose some patience with our patient.” She giggled. “Get it?
Patience
with the
patient
?”