Authors: Bonnie Bryant
Carole and Stevie studied Prancer’s turns. Stevie spoke first.
“I think it’s that you’re forgetting to give signals with anything more than your hands. If you only use the reins to turn, then the horse’s head leads the way and the rest of her body simply follows. If you use your legs, too, putting a little bit of pressure on the girth with your inside leg and a little bit of pressure behind the girth with your outside leg, Prancer’s body will make its own turn. Does that make sense?”
“It does to me. Let me see if it makes any sense to Prancer,” Lisa said. She tried another turn. It was like night and day. Instead of a choppy, side-shifting, right-angle turn, she and the mare were making a smooth, gentle, rounded turn.
“Nice work,” said Carole.
“I wish it were all so simple,” Lisa remarked.
“Well, you’re a fast learner,” Stevie said, just a bit proud of her own teaching skills.
“Thanks,” Lisa said.
The girls proceeded on their ride.
“Did I tell you about Nero?” Carole asked.
“No, what?” Lisa asked. “I just gave him a pat as I walked Prancer out of the stable. He seemed fine. He even nipped at me!”
“I’m glad to hear that. Yesterday he seemed a little off somehow, so when Judy brought Delilah back from Hedgerow, I had her take a look. She said he was in the very early stages of colicking and I might have saved his life!”
“Congratulations!” Stevie said. “See, you really were meant to be a vet.”
“Or maybe a breeder,” Carole said. “Because, I’ve got to tell you, I’m getting all excited about the possibility of Delilah having another foal. After all, her last foal is just about perfect!”
The friends all agreed with that. They’d been there to help Delilah when Samson was born, and they’d loved the coal-black foal from the first time they’d seen him. They felt as if they were his aunts, and they’d even helped with a lot of his training.
“Maybe we’ll have another little champion,” said Stevie.
“Any foal that Delilah has is a champion in my book,” said Carole. “Even if he never wins a ribbon.”
“What if it’s a filly?” asked Lisa.
“Then I hope she’s got as sweet a disposition as her mother—What are you doing, Stevie?” Carole said.
This was the third time Stevie had left the trail and ridden Belle around a rock.
“I’m looking for a sign,” she said, as if that explained anything.
“A sign?” Lisa asked. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s in the book,” Stevie explained. Lisa and Carole exchanged glances. Stevie had a way of giving nonanswers to questions and expecting other people to understand everything she wasn’t saying.
“Uh, Stevie? What book? What sign?”
“Oh, right,” Stevie said. “I started to tell Lisa about it last night, but we got sidetracked with her history project. Well, this is my history project. And I’m sure I’m right.”
“And?” Carole asked, somewhat bemused.
“I’m not going to tell you about it. I think I’ll keep it a secret for now. But I
will
tell you one—no, make that two—things: It’s very close to home, and it happened a long time ago. Now that’s a history project, isn’t it?”
“I guess it is,” Lisa said, but she seemed uncertain. To her a history project was something you looked up in the library. But it was Stevie’s project. She could work on it in whatever way she wanted.
“Maybe you’ll think this is another crazy idea of
mine,” said Stevie. “But I’ll find it. If it’s here, I’ll find it.”
“Sure,” Carole agreed. “It can’t be the craziest idea you’ve ever had. Actually, I’m not sure exactly which idea of yours was the craziest. What do you think, Lisa?” she asked.
“Hmmm,” Lisa said thoughtfully. “How about the time she ran for class president at the fund-raising fair while we were entertaining the Italian boys?”
“Pretty good, but not on a par with the, quote, buried treasure, unquote, in England,” Carole said.
It was a great game to play. Carole and Lisa took turns recalling Stevie’s wildest schemes. It helped them each to remember times that weren’t troubled by Colonel Hanson’s absence, and there were so many schemes to choose from that there was plenty of fodder for the players. They swapped memories all the way to the creek and back to Pine Hollow. It helped make the trail ride just exactly what all three of them needed.
After a while, Stevie loosened her reins so that she could put both hands on her hips. “You guys!” she said disgustedly. “Those were nothing!”
“Compared to …?” Lisa asked.
“My personal favorite,” said Stevie.
“And which was that?”
“The elephant.”
Carole hit her forehead with the palm of her hand.
“How could we forget the elephant?” she asked.
The three of them dissolved into giggles.
As they returned to Pine Hollow, they all felt as if the ride had gone too fast and was over too soon. Carole glanced at her watch and could hardly believe that it was almost five o’clock.
Approaching Pine Hollow, the girls paused to watch Max while he gave a lesson to one of his adult students, Betty Johnson, in the schooling ring.
“Look,” Stevie said to Lisa. “When Mrs. Johnson makes the same kinds of turns you were making, she doesn’t usually bother to move her legs at all. But if—Oh, see what’s happening now.”
While the girls watched, Max stopped Mrs. Johnson and spoke with her. In a second she got back to work, nudging her horse into a walk. As she approached the next corner, her outside leg moved back ever so slightly. The horse made a smooth turn.
The girls smiled and then waved at Max and Mrs. Johnson as they rode past the schooling ring.
“Good ride?” Mrs. Johnson asked.
“The greatest,” Stevie answered.
She knew that Mrs. Johnson always enjoyed a trail ride, too. Now, the next time she went out, her turns would be as good as Lisa’s.
C
AROLE
WIPED
THE
final speck of dust off Starlight’s saddle and yawned. She looked at her watch. It was nearly five-thirty. They’d come in from their ride a half hour earlier, and although they’d meant to have a Saddle Club meeting after the ride, the girls had dispersed quickly.
Stevie had given a hasty explanation about how she was responsible for making dinner that night because of a tiny little food fight she’d instigated with her brothers at breakfast. Carole was glad she wasn’t staying at the Lakes’. Stevie’s idea of a great snack included things like pistachio ice cream with licorice chips. Carole hated to think what Stevie would come up with for a whole meal.
Lisa, on the other hand, wanted to rush home so that she could watch a program she’d seen advertised on the
History Channel. Carole strongly suspected that the program had to do with Germany in the 1930s, and that was the kind of subject that made her uneasy today. Carole told her friends that she didn’t have any reason to rush anywhere. She just wanted to spend some more time at Pine Hollow, where everything was as it should be. She’d take her time cooling Starlight down, then check in on Nero, and then see how Delilah was doing. Carole told Lisa she’d be home soon.
Carole had another nice visit with Starlight, giving him a complete grooming this time. His short summer coat was beginning to grow into a longer winter coat, and it took some attention. While she brushed him, he turned and sniffed at her neck, then nickered in her ear. It made her laugh. That felt very good and confirmed her suspicions that for her, horses were always the surest way to happiness.
“You know,” she told Starlight, “when I groom you, I’m doing it because you need it and it’s my job, but it’s also a way to say thank you for all the wonderful times I’ve had with you and with other horses as well. No, don’t get jealous, you know I love you best of all, but before you came into my life, there were other horses. If there hadn’t been, how could I possibly have had anything to judge you by? How would I know you were the best? Anyway, horses have always been good to me, so it’s the least I can do to repay you and your, um”—she
searched for a word—“colleagues.” She laughed at her own statement, but she knew, as she was laughing, that she meant every word of it. Horses had been more to her than she could expect anybody, even Starlight, to understand. She owed Starlight and every other horse more than she could ever repay. That was one of the reasons she was always willing to take on another chore for a horse.
She ended the grooming when Starlight’s coat was shiny clean. She fetched his evening ration of hay and a fresh bucket of water.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, giving him a final pat on his sweet, soft nose.
Next stop was Nero. He seemed to be a completely different horse from the edgy, uncomfortable gelding she’d seen the night before. The medicine Judy had given him had worked like magic. His eyes were bright. His ears perked up when she approached. She peered over the edge of his stall to check for manure. There was plenty of it, a good sign that the colic was completely cleared up. As if to prove that he was his own usual feisty self, Nero nipped at her hair.
“Enough, boy,” Carole said, pulling her head out of his naughty reach. “You’re supposed to be thanking me, not biting me.”
Nero seemed unrepentant, but Carole still gave him a pat on his neck and then along his face. She’d much
rather have him nip at her hair than be sick! She told him to get a good night’s sleep and she’d see him the next day.
Delilah’s stall was around the corner from Nero’s. Delilah liked peace and quiet, so they’d always kept her away from the rush and bustle of the main aisle. Carole smiled to herself, thinking about all the little quirks horses had that people had to be aware of. People needed to make allowances for horses’ personalities. Carole was only too happy to do that.
“How’re you doing, girl?” Carole asked.
Delilah looked at her serenely. Carole gave the golden-colored mare a gentle pat and then ran her fingers through her silvery mane. Delilah didn’t move. She usually preened a bit when she sensed that someone was admiring her beauty. This time she seemed to remain aloof.
Carole felt a tingle of excitement. Could it be? Was Delilah really pregnant? Would she be delivering a new foal next fall? If she was, Carole was the only one who knew yet. It would be her secret for a couple of weeks until the human world knew for sure. For now, the secret was all Delilah’s, but Carole thought she was trying to share it with her; Delilah seemed somehow changed.
“Don’t worry, girl. I won’t tell anyone yet. For now it will be our secret, and I promise I’ll take good care of you. Remember how Lisa and Stevie and I took care of you last time?”
Delilah watched and listened. Carole was sure she understood. At the very least, Carole knew that the mare understood her tone of voice, that she was being affectionate and reassuring.
“Well, I know you did most of the work, but we did help, and look what a beautiful young colt you brought into the world—Samson! Your next foal will be just as wonderful, and we’ll be just as caring. You don’t have a thing to worry about. The Saddle Club will take care of you, now and forever!”
Carole gave the mare a hug. The horse seemed to welcome her affection and didn’t pull away as she sometimes did when someone tried to hold her. Carole loved the feel and smell of the big palomino. Her coat was almost as smooth as Starlight’s. Delilah felt warm, too.
It must be the glow of excitement about her secret
, thought Carole.
“Oh, I almost forgot something,” Carole said, fishing in her jacket pocket. “If you’re going to have a foal, or even if you’re not, we’ve got to look after your diet and health very carefully. You’ll need plenty of vitamins. We want the strongest, healthiest foal in the whole county. So we’ll start you off with a nice dose of beta-carotene, vitamin A, calcium, and phosphate, if I remember my last nutrition lesson properly.” Carole pulled out a handful of carrot sticks and offered them to Delilah. The horse looked curious, sniffed, and then stepped back.
That was unlike her. In fact, that was unlike almost any horse. Horses generally loved carrots.
“Are you sure?” Carole asked, holding the carrots out again. Delilah didn’t show any more interest the second time than she had the first. It was odd, but it was also quite possible that someone else at the stable had just fed her a snack. A lot of people had missed Delilah while she was at Hedgerow. She was one of Pine Hollow’s favorite horses, and now, possibly carrying a foal, she was a prized tenant. She’d probably been stuffed with carrots all day long!
“Oh, I know what it is!” Carole said. “I’ve heard about how women who are pregnant develop weird food cravings. Next thing you know, you’ll be demanding pickles and ice cream! Well, all I can say is, if that’s what you want, you can go to the ice cream shop with Stevie. She eats the most amazing things—though I don’t ever recall her actually putting pickles on ice cream. Probably just because she never thought of it, and I don’t think I’ll suggest it, because I couldn’t watch her eating it—and she would.
“Okay, so if what you want is weird stuff, I’ll try to get it for you, but, believe me, it’ll have carrots tucked somewhere in it, because those are really good for you!”