Secret Pony Society (9 page)

“Then what?” I held my breath. How much worse could it possibly get?

“He went, but not until he'd stuck his face over most of the stable doors, saying he knew his pony was somewhere around, which freaked out all the ponies, not to mention Cat and Sophie, who added their protests at his behavior. Oh, and Bambi almost bit him, you know how she snakes her head about over her top door whenever anyone goes past her stable?” Bean added, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“But, hey, get this, Twiddles had climbed on the 4x4's hood, 'cause it was warm, which was another reason why the dog in the car had been in such a tizzy, especially as Twiddles just stared at it like it was crazy, which it probably was, and Twiddles had snuggled down for a nap, so when Jazz's dad had finished upsetting everyone and all the ponies, he tried to get him off. Only Twiddles puffed himself up and went for him, spitting in that charming way he does, scratching Jazz's father's hand and making him even more angry. He was red when he drove up the drive. You should have been here! It was
pandemonium!
”

I didn't think I'd ever be grateful for being at Dad's place, but I was so, so glad I
hadn't
been at the stable yard. It sounded like a complete nightmare.

“Mrs. C gave everyone the third degree, demanding that no one, but no one—she was very precise on that point—was to go near the traveler's camp or talk to them or anything, and we all had to promise we knew nothing about anything.”

“What did you say?” I asked, holding my breath.

“Well, what could I say?” replied Bean. “I just nodded and kept my head down. Only Cat just had to stir it up for you. She said she was certain that you were best friends with the missing girl and bound to know something about it.”

“What did Mrs. C say about that?” I asked, dreading the reply.

“Said she'd talk to you when you got back. But don't worry, she'll have forgotten about it by then, you know how vague she is.”

Not if Cat keeps reminding her
, I thought grimly.

“How is Jazz?” I asked faintly.

“Fine. Great. Tiff and I rode over there this afternoon with some more supplies—Tiff's getting used to the backpack now. Jazz was a bit less suspicious of me today.”

“Are you sure no one saw you?” I asked.

“Absolutely. Katy was in the school with James, and Cat had gone out riding by herself. Dee was grooming Dolly, and Leanne wasn't at the yard. I slipped out while they were all occupied. Stop worrying.”

“Cat went riding alone?” I said. Why didn't that sound right?

“Yes. It was windy today, too. Oh, you know that old tree by the Winding Canter, the one at the top of the hill?”

“Yes,” I said, my mind still confused and trying to grab hold of something I felt I'd missed, something I was sure was important.

“It's blown down. Right across the path. Makes a cool jump—only it took me half an hour to get Tiff anywhere near it because she was convinced it was going to eat her. You know what she's like.”

I heard Dad shouting up the stairs.

“Anything else?” I asked, pulling myself up and sitting on the bed.

“Isn't that enough? There was something else…a juicy bit of gossip…now what was it…?”

What she had already told me was enough really, enough to make me wonder whether it really would be better if I stayed with Dad for a few more days. I never thought I'd ever consider that an attractive option. If anyone found out Bean and I had helped Jazz, I was in mega, mega trouble.

“How's Drummer?” I asked, hoping to get onto safer ground.

“Oh, well, that's another thing…” said Bean.

“What?” I screamed, jumping to my feet. “What's the matter? Tell me NOW!”

“Oh, Pia, lighten up!” Bean laughed. “Drummer's fine—and he's loving being on vacation with his Auntie Bean!”

I heard Skinny yelling up the stairs that she and Dad were ready to go. “Gotta go!” I told Bean. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, wait a minute, I've remembered the other thing,” said Bean. Gossip, I thought, relaxing. That might be some relief. “James broke up with Cat today.”

How wrong could I be?

I pedaled to the yard so fast on Wednesday morning, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I could feel my heart thumping inside my chest, and my legs felt like jelly. That's the trouble with the yard being on top of a hill.

Drummer actually seemed pleased to see me.

“You're back!” he said, nuzzling my pockets for the treats he knew would be there. I offered him the fancy sugar lumps I'd swiped, and he crunched them down in seconds. “Is that all?” he asked, frisking me some more.

“You should have made them last longer,” I told him, pulling his ears gently. I was so pleased to see him—it seemed like we'd been apart for weeks. “Sugar dissolves, you know,” he said.

“Did you miss me?” I asked him. “I missed you!”

“Of course you did,” Drummer said smugly.

“I, on the other hand, had a lovely rest. Are we going riding today?”

“You bet!” I told him. “Just as soon as Bean gets here.”

Dee-Dee was already schooling Dolly, and Leanne had gone to a dressage show so Mr. Higgins's stable door was wide open, his new bed already laid for him for when they got back. I desperately didn't want to see James or Cat—that would be too awkward. From the stalls on either side of Drummer, I could hear Moth munching on her hay, and I could see Bambi dozing with her head over her half door. She was deliberately ignoring Drum as usual.

I had Drum groomed and tacked up by the time Bean arrived on her bike.

“I'll be right there—I'll just brush the bits where the tack goes,” she cried, disappearing into Tiffany's stable with her tack. I didn't like to point out that's what she always does.

Getting Tiffany ready in a rush is not recommended. Bean's palomino is such a nervous wreck, she hates to be hassled. When Bean led her out and mounted, Tiffany was in just the right mood to see ghosts and gremlins everywhere. It drives Drummer mad.

“Ahhh, what's that glistening thing?” I heard Tiffany exclaim, her head high, every muscle ready to flee as Bean threw her leg over the back of the saddle and fished about for her stirrup.

“It's a puddle of water.” Drummer sighed, shaking his head.

“Oh, yes. I see that now,” Tiffany said. “Hold on! Something's moving by the tree!”

“Yes, a wisp of hay,” Drummer said slowly. “Now get a grip and let's go!”

We were going to see Jazz, of course.

I'd smuggled out some apples, oranges, a banana, half a loaf of bread, some cheese, some chips, a whole load of granola bars, and some chocolate. I'd also liberated some canned ham we'd had in the cupboard for years, with one of those keys on the side you use to break into it. It was part of Mom's just-in-case supplies, whatever that meant.

I had all the provisions in my bulging backpack, and as we rode off down the drive, Cat's dad drove past, his daughter sitting in his passenger seat beside him. Bean rode up beside me to hide the backpack from view. Close!

“I bet Cat's upset about James,” Bean said. “She's liked him forever, and he was quite a catch. Everyone at school was talking about them going out together.”

“She doesn't look upset,” I replied. Cat had looked out of the window and smirked at me as her father drove past. Usually she ignored me. I wondered what was going on. “What happened?” I asked Bean.

“James dumped her,” she said bluntly.

“But do you know why?”

“Nope! But I bet the story varies, depending on who you ask.”

I couldn't get too elated about James and Cat no longer being an item right now. I had other bigger and scarier issues. Namely, Jazz's dad! I'd save the celebrations until later. The image of Cat smirking at me was puzzling.

“Come on,” said Bean, shortening her reins and sitting a nasty side step from Tiffany as she swerved around a discarded stroller. “Let's get going.”

We rode to the icehouse by an indirect route, approaching from the other side of the lake, just in case we bumped into anyone. Drummer was on his toes and took all my attention, as I so didn't want to get bucked off in the mud. We found Jazz running her fingers through Falling Snow's mane, removing burrs clinging to the black and silver rainfall of horsehair cascading down her neck. Three pairs of eyes greeted us—the striking violet ones of Jazz, the suspicious amber eyes of her dog, and the dark, melting chocolate brown of Falling Snow's.

“Hello, Jazz,” I said, sliding off Drummer and unfastening my backpack, letting it fall to the ground.

“You're back,” Jazz replied, giving a meaningful glance toward Bean.

“I couldn't get here,” I explained, shrugging my shoulders. “I had to think of something. You can trust Bean, you know that now.”

Jazz nodded reluctantly.

Falling Snow had eaten most of the grass in the clearing, and now she stood in mud. I could see the door to the icehouse was open, nothing inside but uninviting darkness. How could Jazz spend the night here, I wondered. On the plus side, Jazz's dog seemed to have given up growling at me. He lay with his front paws stretched out in front of him, his eyes never straying from us and the ponies.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

Jazz nodded. “Perfectly. Has my dad gone yet?”

“No, he's been threatening everyone instead,” Bean told her.

“Apparently, your father has been searching for you,” I told Jazz, “and not in a very friendly way. I don't think he's just going to up and leave. He must be worried about you.”

“Worried he's lost Falling Snow, you mean!” retorted Jazz. Her change of mood prompted the dog to rise to his feet, a growl growing in the back of his throat. Tiffany took a step backward and rolled her eyes. Drummer stood his ground and stared back at the dog.

“Well, whatever, but he's been to our yard making threats and scaring people. I'm not surprised you ran away from him. He's really scary!” retorted Bean.

“That is the
Armaya
working,” said Jazz matter-of-factly. “I'm never going back,” she insisted, her violet eyes sparkling. “He won't stay forever. He'll think I've gone, and he'll leave eventually.”

“How long do you think you can stay here?” I asked, looking at the muddy ground under the ponies' hooves. “There isn't enough grass here for Falling Snow.”

“I know that,” Jazz said. “She's already lost weight.”

I turned to the dark gray pony and could see she looked a little thinner. The nights had been cold recently, and she needed hay to keep warm.

“I'm all right,” Falling Snow told me. “I feel fine. Tell her I'm all right.”

“You need more food than there is here,” Drummer said.

“Have you got nothing else to eat but the grass?” Tiffany asked, aghast. “But there's nothing here!”

“Falling Snow says she's all right,” I told Jazz.

“Well, we both know that she isn't,” Jazz replied.

“I know. I'll bring you some pony cubes this afternoon. She really needs hay, but I can't very well bring a bale of that.”

“We can bring a hay net each,” suggested Bean. “We can carry them on our backs. I'm sure the ponies won't mind.”

Mmmm
, I thought. Drummer won't, but Tiffany will probably think a tiger was hitching a ride. Perhaps Drummer could talk her into it, if I couldn't.

“You're good friends,” Jazz said. “I didn't think I could be friends with anyone
gadjikane
, but you've proved me wrong.”

“Well, actually,” began Bean, wading in, all tact abandoned, “everyone at the yard thinks your group is hard on their horses, and some are convinced you'll steal stuff. It was only Pia who thought differently.”

I winced, but Jazz didn't seem to be offended. “I think my father and his friends are hard on their horses, too. But we treasure them. Horses are our history, our lives, and our currency. House dwellers will never understand that.”

“One of the horses at the yard used to belong to travelers,” continued Bean, unable to stop herself now she had started. “She was badly treated, and James rescued her.”

“But she was badly treated by the boys from the factory—Moth couldn't get away because she was tethered. We don't like to see horses tethered,” I explained.

“The chestnut mare with the white face—that's who you mean, isn't it?” said Jazz.

I nodded. “How did you know?”

“I felt it.”

A shiver ran up and down my spine as I remembered how Jazz had stroked Moth and how the chestnut pony had reacted. I had never seen her act in such a positive way with anyone, not even James.

“We have no choice but to tether our horses,” Jazz continued.

“Yes, but Moth was tied up quite a distance from the travelers' camp,” said Bean, determined to tell Jazz the full story. “So no one knew when the boys were treating Moth badly. That's the problem—you just tie them up and leave them—anyone could steal them, ill-treat them, or anything!”

“Finding grazing is sometimes difficult,” Jazz said sullenly. “You'd be just as upset if we left our horses tethered on mud. According to you, we can't do anything right.”

The atmosphere in the clearing was suddenly tense. It was time to go.

“We'll be back later with food for Falling Snow,” I said, emptying my backpack and mounting Drummer. “She's the one on mud at the moment.”

As Jazz stepped back, Drum took a step toward her as though attached by a thread. Only my hand on the rein restrained him.

I felt a clutch at my heart, and in an instant, something I had always failed to grasp clicked into place. I had struggled to understand how I had made such an easy enemy when I had first arrived at Laurel Farm, but as Jazz held my pony's attention in a way I never could, everything became startlingly clear. As my jealousy of Jazz's unique affinity with horses and ponies hit me, I imagined how things would be if Jazz kept Falling Snow at Laurel Farm; how it would be if she had an unexplained empathy with the ponies. The way I would feel if that was to happen hit me like a thunderbolt and with absolute certainty.

I wouldn't like it. I wouldn't like it at all.

Cat had been the one everyone had turned to for advice before I'd arrived, and Epona had given me the ability to hear and talk to the ponies. For the first time I fully appreciated how Cat felt about me.

No wonder she hated me.