Pleasure Horse (12 page)

Lisa and Carole agreed that the main thing they had learned was that sometimes somebody outside The Saddle Club was more qualified or more experienced to do
the job at hand. “My dad tried to tell us that, but I, for one, didn’t get it,” Carole said.

Lisa pointed out that she hadn’t gotten it, either, at first. As a top student, she was used to taking on tasks that no one thought she could do and making them come out perfectly. And she shared the we-can-do-anything Saddle Club spirit with Stevie and Carole. But, unlike Carole, she hadn’t had a bond with Cobalt. So when Samson started misbehaving, she could see that they weren’t getting anywhere with his training.

“So, Carole, do you miss Samson a lot already?” Stevie inquired gently.

Carole thought for a minute. “Yes and no,” she said finally. “When I walked in today, I thought of his empty stall and I felt sad. But then I felt this overwhelming sense of relief that his training’s in Mr. Grover’s hands now. I got a good night’s sleep last night for the first time since the stirrup problem began. It seems so obvious to me now: Sometimes you’ve just got to call in the expert.”

Stevie grinned. “Experts aren’t always the answer, though,” she said. She filled her friends in on the weekend, starting with Angie’s new personality and ending with the very amateur way the party had turned out, under her guidance.

“But you’re wrong, Stevie,” said Lisa. “If there’s anything you’re an expert at, it’s throwing parties and having fun.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to say,” Carole agreed. “You should hire yourself out to people who don’t know how to enjoy themselves.”

“I thought my cousin had fallen into that category, but she turned out to be okay. I think part of her attitude problem was that she was incredibly nervous about the party. But once her sweet sixteen turned out well, she was almost a different person.” The day after the party, Stevie and Angie had hung out all day. In a lot of ways, Angie really was still the girl Stevie remembered. They’d gone for a long ride, and Angie had been just as enthusiastic about it as Stevie, now that the party was behind her. The two of them had swapped stories about their horses and friends. Because not many girls she knew rode, Angie had said she’d found it hard to continue with a heavy show schedule. She had also said that she had regrets—regrets that she’d never taken Sparkles, or herself, as far as she thought they could go. Seeing Stevie, who she knew was still in the thick of Pony Club and competition, had brought it all back.

“Anyway, she still rides for pleasure, so that proves she hasn’t gone completely nuts,” Stevie concluded.

At that moment, Mrs. Reg poked her head into the room. “We know!” Carole cried. “And we’re about to start on the—the—” She cast her eye around for some tack that looked like it needed cleaning.

Mrs. Reg chuckled. “Would you believe that for once I didn’t come in here to tell you girls to get to work?”

All three Saddle Club members shook their heads emphatically. “Absolutely not,” Stevie said. “Unless something strange happened in the three days I was gone.”

“Well, all right—you win. If you want, you can sweep the floor in here and rake the aisle, but otherwise, my daughter-in-law is waiting outside to take you to visit a certain colt,” Mrs. Reg informed them.

Calling back promises to do double duty the following afternoon, Carole, Lisa, and Stevie raced to the driveway and jumped into Deborah’s car. Deborah whizzed along the winding back roads of Willow Creek, and in no time at all they were pulling into the Grovers’ driveway. “Hey, isn’t that Samson?” Carole asked, pointing to the horse Mr. Grover was working with in the outdoor ring.

“It sure is. Let’s go say hi,” said Lisa. The girls were thrilled that they had happened to arrive in the middle of one of Samson’s lessons.

Samson was fully tacked up in a saddle and a bridle with a lunging cavesson over it. The stirrups were hanging
down at his sides. Mr. Grover stood in the middle of the ring as if he were lunging the colt, but without a lunge line. As the girls approached he asked Samson to “ho-ho,” and the colt stopped quietly. “Good boy, good boy,” Mr. Grover told him.

Stevie looked pleasantly surprised, but Carole and Lisa were flabbergasted. They ran over to greet the pair, with Deborah in tow.

Mr. Grover clipped a lead line onto Samson’s bit and led him to the rail. “Glad you could make it. We’re just about done for the day, so you can take him in and untack him if you want.”

Normally the girls would have jumped at the chance. But first they peppered Mr. Grover with questions to learn what he had done to make Samson adjust to the stirrups so quickly.

“You girls did the most important part,” the trainer said. “You made him into a lovely horse who likes people. I didn’t do anything special. Let’s see … first I lunged him. He was pretty excited to begin with, so I let him play all he wanted just as long as he kept moving. It didn’t take too long for him to get bored of all his fussing. After he settled down, I took the lunge line off and I’ve been free-lunging him. That way he feels like he’s in charge. Thanks to you three, he knows his voice commands perfectly. Don’t you, boy?” Mr. Grover gave Samson
a good pat. Then he handed the lead line to the girls and went to say hello to Deborah.

“Why didn’t we think to lunge him?” Stevie whispered.

“Or to
let
him play until he got over it?” Lisa asked.

Carole watched Mr. Grover walk toward Deborah. Like his personality, his walk was energetic and steady—two incredibly important qualities in a horse trainer. “It sounds so simple when he explains it, but it’s more than what Mr. Grover said. There’s a way about him—maybe because he’s older or has so much experience—that would make any horse respect him and trust him. I guess that’s what it means to be a real professional.”

Lisa and Stevie could see Carole’s mind beginning to wander to her dreams about her future as a trainer or professional rider. They were about to say something when Samson brought Carole back down to earth with a playful butt of his nose.

“I guess we should take you in, huh?” Carole said, rubbing the velvety forehead. The three of them turned happily to lead Samson to the Grovers’ barn. Already the visit had confirmed that the separation from the colt was going to be worthwhile.

“Letting go can be hard, but sometimes it’s the only thing you
can
do,” Lisa remarked.

Carole gave her a curious look. “Say, Lisa?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you realize what you just did?”

Lisa shook her head.

“You just figured out the point of Mrs. Reg’s story!” Carole exclaimed.

“Wait a minute,” Stevie spoke up, “Do you mean to tell me Mrs. Reg’s been telling her incomprehensible stories while I’ve been gone?”

“Only one,” Carole replied. “And it was all about how her Max, Max the Second, went off and studied architecture and didn’t want to run Pine Hollow at first.”

“Huh?” said Stevie.

Carole smiled. “That’s what we said. But now it makes sense. The point was that people—and horses—will eventually do what they’re meant to do. It’s just that sometimes they need to get their way—or their head—first.”

“You’re right. It does make sense now. And you know what? Samson’s going to be more than a good pleasure horse when Mr. Grover’s finished training him,” Lisa said confidently. “He’s going to be
pure
pleasure.”

The girls laughed. “Even though I’m happy he’s here, I can’t wait till he comes home,” Carole confessed.

“Come home?” Stevie repeated, realizing something. “That means he’ll have a homecoming.”

“And?” Lisa asked.

“And you know what
that
means!”

“What?” Carole asked.

“That we’ll have to throw him a welcome-home party!” Stevie replied.

Lisa and Carole had a short, whispered consultation. “We’ve decided to let you plan the party,” Carole announced after a minute. Lisa nodded.

“After all,” the two of them said in unison, “you
are
the expert!”

B
ONNIE
B
RYANT
is the author of many books for young readers, including novelizations of movie hits such as
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
and
Honey, I Blew Up the Kid
, written under her married name, B. B. Hiller.

Ms. Bryant began writing The Saddle Club in 1986. Although she had done some riding before that, she intensified her studies then, and found herself learning right along with her characters Stevie, Carole, and Lisa. She claims that they are all much better riders than she is.

Ms. Bryant was born and raised in New York City. She still lives there, in Greenwich Village, with her two sons.

Don’t miss Bonnie Bryant’s next exciting Saddle Club adventure …

RIDING CLASS
The Saddle Club #52

Emily has cerebral palsy, but she and her specially trained horse get around just fine. The Saddle Club girls make friends with Emily and take her on her first trail ride.

Unfortunately, Emily’s wonderful outing at Pine Hollow Stables is marred by someone who doesn’t think disabled people belong there. Veronica diAngelo is the most unbearable snob ever! The Saddle Club and Emily cook up a plan to show Veronica what real riding class is.