Horse Trouble (11 page)

T
HREE O
’
CLOCK
, F
RIDAY
. Normally Lisa was upset when it was three o’clock on Friday because on the summer schedule it meant that the week of riding was over and it was time for the weekend with no classes. Today she was sorry that the classes were finished, but she was really sorry that Mrs. Reg would be back in two hours and there was still no sign of her pin. The beautiful solid-gold, diamond-eyed horse was lost forever.

It was hard for Lisa to tell what upset her about it the most—the fact that she was responsible, the fact that the pin was valuable, or the fact that the pin had been a very special present to Mrs. Reg from her husband, who had died a long time ago. She’d thought
about little else but the pin for days, and she hadn’t been able to answer that question. What it came down to was that the pin was gone, and Mrs. Reg was going to be very sad, angry, and upset. Maybe there would even be some kind of punishment—like banning Lisa and her friends from riding at Pine Hollow. If that happened, Lisa couldn’t blame Mrs. Reg in the least. She could only blame herself.

The riders walked their horses in a circle to cool them down, and as they passed Red, who stood by the edge of the ring, they pulled whips out of a bucket. One of them had a soda cap on the end, and the rider who got that whip was responsible for bringing cool drinks to everybody else while they untacked their horses. Carole got the soda whip. Lisa signaled to her that she’d be more than willing to untack Starlight while Carole took care of her task.

“Thanks, but let Stevie do it,” Carole said, “You’re going to want to spend some extra time on Diablo’s grooming.”

Lisa had forgotten. The advantage to riding Diablo was that when you were in the saddle, you couldn’t see all the paint that was still on his rear. Lisa had been reminded of it, however, each time she’d passed Max in classes all day long, because he made an odd face every time he saw it. It looked like a grimace.

And if Max didn’t like the paint on Diablo, Mrs. Reg was going to
hate
it.

Lisa was so despondent about the week’s events that she barely noticed when Carole appeared at the door to Diablo’s stable and perched a bottle of apple juice where Lisa could reach it.

“That stuff’s really coming out, isn’t it?” Carole asked, looking at the paint.

Lisa stopped her brushing and combing for a moment and looked at Diablo. The bay still looked more red and white than he ought to, but there was a fair amount of paint and paint-covered hair in the curry comb. Perhaps one day, in the not-too-distant future, the horse would once again be pure bay.

Lisa shrugged in answer to Carole’s question. The fact that some of the paint was coming out didn’t feel like much consolation.

“Look, as long as Stevie’s taking care of Starlight for me, I’m going to run an errand for us,” Carole said. “Dad told me he wouldn’t get to the store to buy the food for our vegetable lasagna tonight, so I brought the recipe with me. I’ll go over to the shopping center and get the stuff.”

Lisa had completely forgotten about their dinner. She’d been so focused on Mrs. Reg’s return and what
wasn’t
going to get done by then that she hadn’t remembered
that there would be life after that. In fact she couldn’t believe Carole could think about anything but the missing pin.

“You’re really going shopping?” Lisa asked.

“I know it seems odd,” Carole said. “I was thinking the same thing you’re thinking now, but the fact is, worrying doesn’t change anything. It won’t help us to find the pin.” It seemed like a wise philosophy. It didn’t change any facts, but it did change the way Lisa felt about the facts.

“All right,” she said. “You do the shopping, and when Stevie and I are done, we’ll try to find the pin one more time. By then all the kids will be gone. We’ll go back to the locker area. I know we combed every inch of it, but it’s still the most logical place.”

“Good idea,” Carole said. “I’ll cross my fingers for you.”

Lisa returned her attention to Diablo’s coat. Carole was right. The paint really
was
coming out.

H
ALF AN HOUR
later Stevie and Lisa were once again on their hands and knees in the locker area. Stevie had found two flashlights, so the girls were peering under everything they could, sweeping every inch of the floor with beams of light, hoping to spot the glint of gold, the sparkle of a diamond.

“Very interesting,” Veronica diAngelo said.

Lisa jerked upward, knocking her head on the bench she’d been looking under. Stevie just grunted and kept on looking.

“It’s just two blind mice now, and they aren’t sweeping, cleaning, painting, or trying to do everything else under the sun to butter up the stable manager and her son, are they?”

There was a cruel edge to her voice, and Lisa didn’t like it at all. It was sharper and more painful than the dull ache in her head where she’d bonked herself against the bench. She just stared at Veronica and waited for her to go on.

“So I’ve been asking myself, what is all this about? And now, with the two of you on your hands and knees at my feet, I think I know.”

She couldn’t possibly know, Lisa told herself.

“It’s the pin,” Veronica said. “When you called me at home, I began to think about it. I knew I’d seen it before and it wasn’t Stevie’s. It took me a while to remember, but a pretty piece of jewelry like that will stick in a girl’s mind, even when she’s been told that it’s a fake. The only other time I saw that pin, Mrs. Reg was wearing it. It’s not a fake. It’s real gold, with a real diamond. And you lost it, didn’t you?”

Lisa’s jaw dropped. That was enough of an answer for Veronica. “Just as I thought,” she said.

“You’re the one who threw it at the cat!” Lisa blurted out.

“Me?” Veronica asked. “No way, dear. I never even had the thing in my hand. You just showed it to me, don’t you remember?”

No, that wasn’t the way Lisa remembered it. Not at all. But it didn’t matter. Even the fact that Veronica probably
did
throw it at the cat didn’t change the fact that Mrs. Reg had permitted Lisa to show the pin to her friends, and Lisa was responsible for whatever happened to it. Arguing with Veronica wasn’t going to change that situation.

“Why don’t you just go home and gloat?” Stevie asked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t think of it,” Veronica said. “Why would I want to go home and gloat when I can stay here and do the same thing? This way I get to watch the demise of Max’s precious three favorite riders—the girls who have been trying to make themselves look so good all week just to make up for the fact that they’ve done something unforgivable. No, Stevie, I wouldn’t leave here right now for the world! In fact, I think I’ll just sit here on the bench for a while and watch the
two of you sweat. I don’t get many opportunities to do that. I’m not going to miss this one.”

With that, Veronica settled herself on the bench and watched.

There was very little to watch, though, because even the most careful search of every square inch of the locker area revealed only a few dust bunnies. No horses, no gold, no diamonds.

C
AROLE PUT THE
two bags of groceries on the bookshelf next to Mrs. Reg’s desk. She hadn’t even greeted Lisa and Stevie, who were sitting in Mrs. Reg’s office, because the two of them looked so glum that there didn’t seem to be anything worth saying.

Instead she was greeted with a recapitulation of Stevie and Lisa’s talk with Veronica. That made Carole feel just as cheerful as her friends. It even made her lose her appetite for vegetable lasagna.

“I think I know what I’m going to say to Mrs. Reg,” Lisa said.

“You’ve thought up a way to explain the mess we’ve made?” Stevie asked.

“Well, I haven’t figured out everything I’m going to say, but it’s going to begin with the words ‘I’m sorry.’ ”

“That sort of covers it, doesn’t it?” Carole remarked. “Beginning, middle, and end.”

“Very sorry,” Stevie concurred.

A car pulled into the driveway at Pine Hollow. The girls couldn’t even bring themselves to look. They knew what it was and who it was. Max had picked his mother up at the airport. That was Max and Mrs. Reg. Now it was official that they couldn’t hide the fact that the pin was missing and they’d made nothing but dreadful mistakes ever since Mrs. Reg left, all in the name of trying to make up for the unforgivable.

“Oh, no,” Lisa said. “I think I’ve forgotten my speech.”

“It starts with ‘I’m sorry,’ ” Stevie reminded her. “And if you forget, we’ll say it for you.”

They were quiet then, quiet enough to hear Mrs. Reg’s exclamation from out front.

“Why, this is
beautiful
!”

“What’s that, Mother?” Max asked.

“The front of the stable! You painted it!”

“I did?”

“Well, somebody did,” Mrs. Reg said. “Who else would do it?”

“Oh, that’s right. Stevie, Lisa, and Carole decided
to paint it. I don’t know why—and they also took a turn at painting Diablo while they were at it!” He laughed.

Glumly Lisa thought it would probably be the last time he would laugh for a long time.

“Well, where are these girls who think they can replace me?” Mrs. Reg asked.

“I think they’re waiting in your office,” Max said.

The Saddle Club stood up to welcome Mrs. Reg respectfully. She almost ran into her office and gathered the girls in her arms for a big welcoming hug. It was not exactly what any one of them was expecting. They hugged her back.

“The front of the stable looks just great! When Morris sees how much better it looks, he’s going to love doing the painting for our living room! Don’t you think so, Max?”

Max looked a little confused and then seemed to remember something. “Definitely,” he agreed.

“Whatever made you decide to take on that job?” Mrs. Reg asked.

“It was on your list,” Stevie said. “It said to paint the front of the stable.”

“No, it didn’t,” Mrs. Reg said. “Or maybe it did, but that wasn’t what I meant.”

“Did we mess up again?” Lisa asked.

“Again?” Mrs. Reg answered. “This wasn’t a mess-up. This was a case of mind reading. See, my old friend Morris Halpern is coming tonight, and he’s staying with us for the weekend. He is an artist, and he offered to do a painting of the stable for our home. I was planning to ask him to spruce the place up a little bit in his painting, but now I don’t have to. He can make the painting look just like the place. Thanks!” Then she turned to her son. “Max, didn’t you even look at that list?” she asked. “Did you just let these girls do absolutely
everything
?”

Max shrugged sheepishly. “They seemed to be doing a pretty good job of it,” he said. “Actually, I came in here last night and took a look at the chart Carole made for assigning horses, and I was very impressed with it. You have to get her to show you how she did it. I think you’ll want to use that chart, too. Can you show her, Carole?”

“Well, sure,” Carole said. “But—”

“No buts,” Mrs. Reg said. “Because if you’ve gotten as good at assigning horses as Max said, you may just end up with that job permanently.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Carole said quickly, her mind suddenly filled with images of frantic riders all demanding gentle but spirited horses at the same time.
“I’m sure Mrs. Reg does a much better job of it than I ever could.”

Max smiled knowingly at her. Everyone appreciated that that was a tricky job. “Well, that may be true, Mother, but the fact is that these girls have been working some magic around here in your absence.”

The Saddle Cub was more than a little surprised to hear Max say that. He’d been so busy since his mother departed that they had barely seen him, and they didn’t think he’d noticed anything—except the paint on Diablo. He hadn’t even noticed that the front of the stable had been painted!

There was a knock at Mrs. Reg’s door then. Everybody turned to see that it was Veronica diAngelo.

“Can I speak to you and Mrs. Reg for a minute? In private?” she asked. Stevie, Lisa, and Carole knew what was coming. It was inevitable, and they didn’t like it at all.

“Not right now,” Max said, granting the girls an unexpected reprieve. “My mother just got back. Can it wait until morning?”

“It’s important.”

“A little later then,” Max said. Then he turned to his mother. “And you should have heard what some of the other riders said about these three.”

The Saddle Club was not eager to hear this. Carole thought of the basketball players and the ponies, then she thought of Mr. Jarvis and the painted horse. Lisa thought only of Mr. French, the non-French non-ambassador.

“My phone’s been ringing off the hook,” Max said.

Stevie wasn’t surprised. Of course there had been complaints.

“We’ve got a whole basketball team that wants to learn to ride. Apparently their coach told them that horseback riding would help their balance. So four of them came and tried it. They loved it. I don’t know what these three girls did, but the players just couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful all the riders were at the place and how much they loved the horses that had been assigned to them.”