Racehorse (7 page)

“Me? Nothing’s wrong,” Stevie said. “Nothing at all. Let’s trot again, okay?”

Both Pepper and Topside heard the word before the riders gave them the signals. They began trotting easily and smoothly. Lisa was so pleased by the refreshing ride that she forgot until much later to try to pump Stevie for an explanation about the funny face she’d made. When she recalled it again, Lisa dismissed the idea. After all, Stevie was as famous for making odd faces as she was for thinking up wild and wacky ideas. It was probably really nothing at all.

F
OR
C
AROLE THE
next few days seemed to fly by. She couldn’t learn not to hurt when she and Judy were working with a horse in discomfort or pain, but she did learn to accept that it was a vet’s job to heal horses, especially when they were really sick. She cried when she learned that the gelding with tetanus had died.

“Did you know he was going to die?” Carole asked Judy as they drove from one call to another.

“I never
know
,” Judy said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all the years I’ve spent doing this, it’s that horses surprise me—even more than people. I find it helps to hope for good surprises and not to expect the bad ones, though they will, of course, come.”

A long silence filled the cab of the truck. Carole truly understood what Judy was saying.

“Today, if possible, I just want us to have good surprises,” Judy said.

“If it’s all good, will that be a surprise?” Carole asked, teasing.

“Indeed it will,” Judy told her. She turned the truck into a circular drive then and pulled to a halt in front of a small barn where there was a small pony with a small problem. The two of them examined the pony named Luna because of the perfect half-moon on his face. Carole and Judy were very aware of the fact that the pony’s young owner, a little girl named May, was watching everything they did with a hawk’s eye.

“You’re not going to hurt my pony, are you?” May asked. She patted Luna’s neck vigorously and protectively as she talked to Judy.

“I promise,” Judy said. “You called me because you noticed your pony wasn’t feeling well. That was the right thing to do. I checked him last week and found that he has some worms in him. I’m just going to give him some medicine to kill the worms. He may not like the medicine an awful lot, but he certainly is going to like feeling better. You were right to call in the first place.”

Carole knew that worms were something that horses just got. They were around barnyards, paddocks, and fields. Almost every horse had problems with parasites at one time or another, and as long as the vet came promptly and treated the horse, the worms wouldn’t be
any real problem, just a short-term nuisance. Untreated, worms and other parasites could cause devastating damage to a horse. May had been right to have her parents call Judy at the first sign of trouble.

While Judy dosed the pony, Carole talked to May about the Pony Club at Pine Hollow. The little girl was so eager to learn how to take care of her pony that Carole was sure she’d want to participate in Horse Wise. By the time the pony had been treated, May was ready to sign up. Carole promised her she’d be welcome at the next meeting on Tuesday.

“Nice job,” Judy said as she and Carole pulled out of the driveway. “You kept that little girl so busy talking about Horse Wise that she never had a chance to flinch while I put the tube down her pony’s throat to deliver the medicine to his stomach. What a team we make!”

“I guess,” Carole said. “And to tell you the truth, I got so busy telling her all about Horse Wise that
I
never noticed what you were doing—even when I was holding the horse’s head for you!”

Judy laughed and so did Carole. They both liked the fact that they’d left a healthier horse and a more knowledgeable owner behind.

“Next stop, Maskee Farms.”

“Again?” Carole asked. She certainly wanted to return, but she was surprised that it was necessary.

“Again. It’s for a final check on the two racers for this coming weekend.”

Maskee Farms was just a few miles down the road, and Mr. McLeod was waiting for them. He waved a cheerful greeting and then met them in the stable.

“How are my patients doing?” Judy asked.

“Just fine, I think, though I’d like you to take a close look at Prancer in action. I think she might be favoring one of her hind legs a little.”

“All right,” Judy said. “Let’s see her moving.”

Mr. McLeod gave Carole a lead rope and nodded, indicating that Carole should bring Prancer out. Prancer’s eyes seemed to sparkle when she saw Carole, and Carole felt just the same way. She clipped the rope onto the horse and brought her out of the stall, leading her to a ring off the rear of the stable.

At Judy’s instruction, Carole led Prancer in a walk and then a trot, running in front of her, though it was hard to keep up with the Thoroughbred racehorse’s trot. She
was
fast!

“Looks okay to me,” Judy said.

“Maybe,” Mr. McLeod said. “But you should see her at a faster gait.”

“Why don’t we saddle her up?” Judy suggested.

“I don’t have anyone to ride her,” he said. “She’s not used to the weight of somebody like me or you.…” His
eyes landed on Carole, still holding the horse’s lead. “What about her?” he asked.

Carole could hardly believe what she was hearing. Mr. McLeod was actually suggesting that she have a chance to ride a valuable horse like Prancer? She quickly decided that she’d heard wrong. He probably just wanted her to lead the horse some more and run faster.

“Great idea,” Judy said. “Carole’s a terrific rider. Where’s the saddle?”

She had heard it right. He actually wanted her to ride Prancer! She was so excited, she barely noticed what she was doing as she tacked up the mare.

Racing saddles were much smaller than regular English riding saddles. The less weight a horse had to carry, the faster it would be able to run. That was the main reason why most jockeys were so small and so thin. Still, a saddle was a saddle, and a horse was a horse. Carole had no trouble tacking up Prancer and only a little trouble adjusting to the very short stirrups that were also part of a racing saddle. What it meant, mainly, was that she had to have a boost from Mr. McLeod to get into the saddle. And then she was there, on the back of a beautiful, sweet racehorse. It seemed like a dream come true.

Judy and Mr. McLeod waited for her to accustom herself to the feel of Prancer. That didn’t take long. Prancer’s motions were smooth, almost seamless. Her
training had been for speed. Every movement she made was sleek. Carole thought it was almost as wonderful as riding Starlight.

First Carole walked Prancer and then brought her to a trot. She felt very self-conscious as Judy and Mr. McLeod watched every single thing she did, but then she realized they weren’t watching her. They were watching the horse.

“Want to try a round on the practice track?” Mr. McLeod asked.

“Me?” Carole said, realizing immediately how dumb that sounded.

“Yes, please,” he said, ignoring her silly question. He opened the gate to the ring and showed her the way to walk Prancer to his practice track.

“You don’t want to go full out,” he said. “Because we don’t want to tire Prancer. Judy and I just want to have a chance to observe her at her faster gaits. Take her two-thirds of the way around the track at a trot. Pick up a canter at the far turn and bring her back in front of us at whatever speed she’s comfortable with. Don’t push her. She likes to go fast. Your main job will be to hold on.”

It was a main job Carole was more than willing to take on. She looked at Judy for reassurance. Judy nodded proudly, grinning. Carole began the circuit of the racetrack that Mr. McLeod had practically in his backyard.

It was easy. Prancer had obviously done this many times before, and she knew just what to do. Carole barely had to give her any instructions at all. They walked a few steps and then began an easy trot. Carole gave the horse a little leg as they proceeded, picking up the pace of the trot. She wanted to be at a fast, working trot by the time she was ready to change gaits.

Carole had spent many happy hours on horseback, but she’d never had the feeling she had now. There, stretched out in front of her, was a racetrack—almost a mile long, marked off at eighth-mile lengths. She and Prancer were the only ones on it. She felt as if they were the only ones in the world and certainly the only ones who mattered. There was nothing to distract the relationship between her and the horse. Everything rested between them.

Prancer’s pace quickened without any signal from Carole. It was what Mr. McLeod had meant when he’d promised her that the horse had speed. Just at the moment they made the far turn, Carole moved her outside leg back behind the horse’s girth and she instantly changed to a canter. Carole put a little more pressure on Prancer with her legs, and the mare’s canter quickly lengthened and changed to a gallop. Automatically Carole rose in the saddle, leaning forward to maintain her balance over the horse’s new center of balance at the new gait. She could feel Prancer’s mouth on the bit, ready to
respond in an instant to a new command from Carole. She could also feel an incredible surge of power pounding beneath her. Prancer was doing everything Carole could want her to do. She let the horse have all the rein she needed. Prancer took it and flew with it.

It was an exhilarating feeling beyond anything Carole had ever known on a horse. It wasn’t just a matter of speed, either. This was the very thing this horse had been designed and trained to do for every minute from the moment of her birth. She performed perfectly, joyously, the dirt track flying beneath her feet, and Carole enjoyed each second. The white fence bordering the track seemed to stream into a single line, and the eighth-mile poles seemed to come together, brought closer by the horse’s speed. Nothing mattered at that moment except what felt like the near perfect union of horse and rider—and speed.

Then she realized that she had passed Mr. McLeod and Judy, flying by with Prancer’s glorious gallop. She tugged gently on the reins and sat down in the saddle. As fast as the horse had started, she slowed, first to a canter, then to a trot. Finally she walked. She wasn’t even breathing hard, though Carole was.

She could still feel the glorious motion of the ride on Prancer, long after it had stopped.

She walked the horse back to Judy and Mr. McLeod. “Nothing wrong with this horse,” Judy pronounced.

“Nothing wrong with the rider, either,” Mr. McLeod said. “Nice job, Carole. Did you have fun? Uh, don’t bother to answer that. I can tell by the grin on your face. She’s quite a horse, isn’t she?”

Carole sighed with pleasure. “Yes, she is,” she said, when she could talk.

“Well, you rode her well, and she seems to like you a lot. I was about to invite you to come to the track this weekend, but Judy tells me you’re already planning to be there.”

“You
want
me there?” Carole asked. Once again, Mr. McLeod was surprising her. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I sure do, and my jockey will be glad you’re there, too. He’ll be pleased to know that somebody Prancer likes so much will be around. She’ll race better.”

“She will?”

“Oh, I don’t know for certain,” Mr. McLeod said. “I just know that a happy horse is usually a fast horse. This horse is happy with you.”

“And I’m happy around her,” Carole replied.

“I
CAN
’
T EVEN
tell you what it was like,” Carole whispered to Lisa the following Tuesday at their Horse Wise meeting. Stevie craned her neck to listen, too. “I think we were going a thousand miles an hour—”

“I don’t think racehorses go more than about fifty,” Lisa said sensibly.

“You know what I mean,” Carole said.

“No, perhaps you’ll tell us,” Max said pointedly. They were having an unmounted meeting and were sitting in Max’s office at Pine Hollow supposedly talking about horse parasites. All Carole wanted to talk about, however, was the incredible ride she’d had on Prancer and how she was actually going to be at the racetrack to watch the filly run. However, she didn’t want to talk about those things in the middle of a Pony Club meeting.

“Sorry, Max,” she said sheepishly, noticing that everybody, including Horse Wise’s newest member, May, was staring at her. Carole blushed.

Max cleared his throat authoritatively and resumed the meeting. “Now, who can tell me about parasite control in stable horses?” Max asked. May’s hand shot up.

Racehorses were out; parasites were in—at least until The Saddle Club had a chance to get to TD’s after the meeting.

The minute Horse Wise was finished, the three girls made a dash for TD’s, slid into booths at the ice cream shop, and ordered their treats. Then Carole told her friends absolutely everything about riding Prancer and how wonderful it had been. Even if Stevie and Lisa had wanted to get a word in edgewise, they wouldn’t have been able to. Carole was just too excited.

“The only thing that will be missing on Saturday when I’ll be at the racetrack with Judy and Mr. McLeod and”—
she sighed before uttering the name—“Prancer, is that you guys can’t be there with me. You’ve got to meet her, though. She’s some horse!”