Saddlebags (5 page)

Carole looked around the table pensively. Fun? She wasn’t so sure. She loved cattle drives, but they usually involved lots of hard work. Would the Saddlebags really be up to it? She tapped nervously on her water glass.

Stevie and Lisa had grown quiet too. Carole could tell they were having similar thoughts.

When the meal was finished, Stevie cut herself some apple pie and sat next to Carole.

Colonel Hanson turned to his daughter. “You’re quiet, honey. Don’t you have faith in us?”

“Well, Dad, it’s just that cattle drives aren’t as easy as they look in the movies. You’re in the saddle the whole day long, and sometimes things can happen—”

“Carole, dear, you know we’re getting the hang of it,” Mr. Lake said.

“We might be the Saddlebags, and we might not be ready to rope a little dogie and stay on our horse at the same time,” said Mrs. Lake, “but I’m game.”

“What’s a little dogie anyway?” asked Mr. Atwood. “Isn’t it some kind of submarine sandwich?”

“Daaaad!” said Lisa, turning red over her father’s pun on hoagies, which was what such sandwiches were called in some places. “A little dogie is a motherless calf! Sometimes they get separated from the herd on the drive and you have to rescue them.”

“I could do that,” said her mother. “I bet they’re cute.”

“They are,” Lisa answered, shaking her head. “But it’s not that simple.” She paused to take a deep breath. “You know how Max is always telling us that riding is fun, but it’s serious too?”

“Mmmhm,” answered Mr. Atwood.

“Well, I just think you need to be aware that it can get
very
serious sometimes.”

“We take it seriously enough,” said Mrs. Lake, waving one hand dismissively. “Frankly, I don’t see why you girls are getting so nervous. You’re being the party poopers around here, not us.
I
can’t
wait
to sleep under the stars.…”

“And listen to my serenade,” said Mr. Lake. “ ‘I’m a headin’ for my first roundup!’ ”

Frank rose from his chair. “You’ll all be fine. You girls
can keep your parents in line. Now it’s siesta time. I’ll see everyone later.”

T
HE GIRLS TOOK
to their bunkhouse for the next hour. Their siesta time would be perfect for a much-needed Saddle Club meeting.

Stevie stretched out on her top bunk and looked up at the beams in the roof. “Hmph,” she said. “Frank thinks they’ll be okay.”

“And that we can keep them in line,” added Lisa grimly. “I bet they’ll be harder to handle than those stray dogies.” She groaned. “Speaking of dogies—did you hear my father making that dumb joke about submarine sandwiches? That was classic!”

Kate giggled. “He’s just showing his dude colors.”

Lisa groaned again.

“I don’t know about you guys,” said Carole as she took off her boots and stretched out on her bunk, “but I thought my dad looked worse than ever on the ride this morning. He sways back and forth with Yellowbird’s gait, and the hat bounces left and right and it makes
me
dizzy! Either the hat’s going to fall off his head or he’s going to fall out from under the hat. I don’t know which’ll happen first!”

“I think if my dad bursts into song one more time,” Stevie chimed in, “I may take
my
hat off and send it sailing straight at him.”

“And my mom’s riding is making me sick,” Lisa said. “I mean, how could she be
my
mom? Maybe, once upon a time, she had a riding lesson. But if she did, it was at the yank-and-kick school of riding.”

“Look, guys,” said Kate, “tons of the guests who come here are rank beginners. A lot of them know even
less
than your parents do—and they manage just fine. The only ones who really give us trouble are the people who think they can do more than they actually can. That can lead to danger.”

“That’s just it,” said Carole. “I think—I
know
—my dad thinks he’s
much
more capable than he really is.”

“Same with my parents,” Stevie declared.

Lisa said, “Mine too.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Kate suggested. “Why don’t we invite all the parents to join us tomorrow morning before the cattle drive, while we watch John train with Tex?”

“Good idea,” said Lisa, quickly catching on to Kate’s idea. “Then they’ll see how much technique it takes to
be an excellent rider, and it’ll be fresh in their minds for the ride.”

“Where exactly will the cattle drive take us?” Stevie asked.

“Dad made it sound farther than it is,” Kate told her. “It’ll take us only a few hours to ride to the pasture northwest of here, where the herd is. Then we’ll sleep out. Next morning we’ll bring the herd to the back pasture near the ranch. It’s a cinch of a ride, and the herd’s not that big this time.”

“So it’s really a one-day drive that Walter and John could handle without any help from any of us dudes, young
or
old,” Stevie remarked.

“Well, that’s how we run the ranch,” answered Kate. “Guests come on a simple drive and get the feel and the thrill of riding the herd, sleeping under the stars, cooking out. You know. This same drive has been done by guests with less experience than the Saddlebags. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Nothing, I guess,” said Lisa.

“I’ll never forget what went wrong for me on my first drive,” said Stevie. “Remember the rattlesnake, and poor Tomahawk?”

“Do I ever,” Carole answered with a shudder. She
would never forget the day Stevie had fallen off a horse and come face-to-face with a rattler. Now it was a grim reminder of how dangerous riding without experience could be. “Our parents are definitely not prepared for the worst that could happen.”

“I guess we just have to hope for the best,” said Stevie, “an uneventful ride, clear skies—”

“And Saddlebags who understand how much hard work is involved,” Lisa interrupted.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
the girls led their parents to the corral just as John Brightstar was swinging into the saddle.

“What he’s training for is something called reining,” Kate explained, “and it’s good for developing a superior wrangling horse, but also for shows.” She hiked herself on top of the fence. “Now watch John carefully,” she continued, “he’s going to warm up by practicing all four gaits with Tex: walk, trot, lope—which is like a canter in English riding—and gallop, or run. This is to make sure that Tex and he are perfectly balanced at all speeds, because balance is going to matter a lot later.”

Lisa glanced at her mother. Her eyes were glazed over, as if she were still half asleep or just not interested in what Kate was saying.

John trotted to the center of the ring, halted, and started backing up.

“That’s harder than it looks,” said Kate, “and making it look easy is one of the most important things John’s teaching Tex. John has to lean forward a bit in the saddle, and still press his seat down. He also must pull with the reins just enough to give the signal to back up, but not so much that the horse starts to have what they call a yawning mouth.”

Stevie looked over and saw her father stifle a huge yawn. Lisa saw it too.

“Take a look at
that
yawning mouth!” Stevie whispered to Lisa. They both covered their mouths to keep from laughing aloud.

“Now, the reason why this is difficult,” Kate went on, oblivious to the lack of attention she was getting, “is that the rider uses neck reining to pivot the horse. He doesn’t pull on the mouth at all.”

“Does Stewball know how to do this stuff?” Stevie asked Kate.

“Sure,” Kate answered. “That’s why he’s such a good roping horse.”

“Can I try?” Stevie asked.

“Sure.”

Stevie jumped down from the fence and walked into the barn.

Lisa shook her head in admiration of her friend. Stevie was always ready to take on a new horseback-riding challenge, no matter how difficult it looked. She had mastered some tough dressage routines for events back home; now nothing could stop her from trying this new skill. Lisa hopped down from the fence and followed Stevie and Kate into the barn.

Carole looked around at the parents. Mrs. Atwood had wandered over to the garden, and Mrs. Lake was busily drawing a tic-tac-toe board in the dirt with her toe. Meanwhile her father was looking at some all-terrain vehicles parked in the driveway. Only Mr. Atwood and Mr. Lake remained nearby. “We’re going to try our hands at some of this stuff,” Carole told the two fathers. “Any of you guys up for a turn?”

“No, thanks,” said Mr. Atwood, “I think I’ll save my energy for the real thing.”

Mr. Lake shook his head no.

So much for Kate’s plan to impress the parents with our skills, thought Carole.

Just then Stevie rode Stewball almost all the way down the corral. She tightened the reins and sat even deeper in her seat. Immediately the horse slid his rear haunches beneath him into sort of a half kneel, and let his front legs rise off the ground for about two seconds, before coming to a full balanced stance.

“Whoowee!” Stevie shouted. She looked around for her parents. But they were just heading back into the ranch house, not the least bit interested in their daughter’s reining technique.

“Way to go, Stevie,” Carole called.

Oh, well, Stevie thought. At least my friends are impressed.

L
ATER
,
AFTER THE GIRLS
had practiced backing, pivots, and sliding stops, they unsaddled and watered their horses.

“That was great backing, Lisa,” said Kate. “I’ve never seen Chocolate do so well.”

“Thanks,” Lisa answered. “
I
learned a lot from watching John, but I’m not sure how much the Saddlebags learned.”

“They didn’t pay the least bit attention,” said Carole. “It’s too bad. A lot of those skills are essential on a drive.”

“I guess our plan didn’t exactly work,” said Kate.

“Nope.” Stevie looked glum. “My mother didn’t even notice how much work John’s done with his horse. She was too busy playing tic-tac-toe.”

“Well, at least we appreciate him,” Kate pointed out. “You have to remember that not everyone is as horse crazy as the members of The Saddle Club.”

“That’s for sure,” Carole agreed. “Come on, let’s get some lunch before the cattle drive starts.”

S
TEVIE POKED HER
head into her parents’ bunkhouse. “How’s the packing coming?” she asked.

Her mother was busy laying out her bedroll: sleeping bag, change of clothes, toiletries, and a big hardcover book.

“Oh, Mom, don’t bring the book! It’s much too heavy!”

Mr. and Mrs. Lake both started to chuckle.

“Aw, c’mon, sweetie, we’ve been on camping trips before!” Mrs. Lake said, rolling her eyes.

“But this one’s on a
horse
! You don’t do a bedroll like
that
.” Stevie went to her mother and took over the job. “Where’s your towel? It should be in here too. And tomorrow’s socks are missing!”

“Whoa!” Mr. Lake exclaimed. “Since when did you get so darn organized?”

Stevie made a face at her father. “It’s a trail ride, Dad! You don’t want your socks falling out on the trail while you’re loping along behind some steer. And you don’t need that super-duper heavy-duty flashlight!” She went over to his bedroll and took out the four-battery flashlight he was trying to roll up into it. “Just pack the small one you brought.”

“Okay, okay. You’re the expert, little miss.”

“
Hmph
!” said Stevie, and continued helping them with their rolls. “Give me your ponchos. These are essential. They go on the outside, for easy access.”

Mrs. Lake stood with her hands on her hips, grinning at her daughter. “Stevie, you never fail to surprise me. Around home you’re not exactly organized, but when it comes to packing for a trail ride, you are truly an expert.” She went over and gave Stevie a quick hug. “Actually, I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

C
AROLE WENT TO
the main house to check on her father’s packing. “Have you remembered all the essentials?” she asked.

Colonel Hanson looked up from his packing and put his hands on his hips. “My flaky daughter is trying to organize
me
? Have you forgotten what I do for a living?”