Trail Ride (8 page)

The two girls waved her off, and she made her way back to where Joanne was waiting.

“Good for you, Lisa. I like promptness in a person. Now look what we’ve got here.…”

Lisa knelt down and her eyes went wide. A genuine skeleton! “What is it?”

“An ancient species of bird.”

“How do you know it’s not one that died here a year ago?”

“The depth at which it was found gives us an idea of how long it’s been here. The deeper down in the dirt, the older it is. In theory, at least,” Joanne told her.
“See the delicate bones of the wing? We need to expose the rest of them.”

“Wow!” Lisa said excitedly. “How do we get it out of the dirt?”

“We don’t. We want to remove the dirt from it and leave the body just the way we found it until it can be photographed.”

“Why?”

Joanne smiled at her. “You have an inquiring mind, Lisa. That’s a real gift. The answer is that the position of the body can give us clues as to how it died.”

Lisa shook her head. “What do you mean, how it died?”

“For instance, did it break its neck or did it simply die of natural causes? Maybe something killed it and ate it, and if that’s the case, we might be able to figure out what the predator was by any tooth marks it may have left on the bones. That would help us deduce what other species existed here at the same time as this bird.”

“Wow!” Lisa said again. “This is really interesting.”

“I think so, too,” Joanne said. “Now, here’s what we’re going to do.” From a piece of rolled-up leather she extracted a paintbrush. “Very slowly, one grain at a time if necessary, you and I are going to finish unearthing this creature.”

Lisa spent the remainder of her time at the dig working with the paintbrushes. Joanne demonstrated how a deft touch was needed to move minute pieces of dirt from a tiny area and scan it for possible significant remnants. Lisa found herself absolutely fascinated by the possibilities of what each stroke might reveal, and the time flew by. When Carole and Kate eventually showed up, it came as a shock to learn she had been at it for well over an hour.

“Do you mind if we head home now, Lisa?” Kate asked. “I’m not feeling very good.”

Lisa was a little alarmed by her friend’s flushed face and feverish-looking eyes. “You don’t look so good, either. We’d better get you home.”

Kate nodded wearily and led the way back to the horses.

During the ride home, Carole talked about a tent they had discovered that was full of unearthed treasures from the site. “You should have seen it, Lisa. They had all kinds of bones and stuff.”

Lisa nodded absently. She was keeping a sharp eye on Kate, who seemed to be growing steadily worse.

“Professor Jackson said they were getting ready to send a shipment back to the museum for safekeeping,” Carole continued. “I guess they do that when they
think they have too many valuable things lying around. Did you know horses were the size of pigs a long time ago?”

“There’s the ranch,” Lisa said, a wave of relief washing over her. “We’re almost there, Kate.”

Kate turned and nodded weakly, then her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in her saddle.

A
S
K
ATE SLID
forward onto Stewball’s neck, the horse came to a complete stop. He stood absolutely still, as though he knew that the slightest movement would dislodge his rider.

Quickly Lisa and Carole dismounted and hurried over to their stricken friend, only to find her eyes closed and her face flushed and sweating.

Carole shook her gently. “Kate?”

Slowly the girl opened her eyes. They were bright with fever. “Carole?” she mumbled with surprise, struggling upright in the saddle. “What happened?”

“I think you passed out,” Lisa told her.

“It’s so cold,” she complained, shivering.

“Cold? It’s like a hundred degrees out here,” Lisa whispered to Carole.

“Should I go for help?” Carole asked.

Lisa scanned the distance to the ranch house. “We’re almost there. Do you think you can make it if Carole and I ride on either side of you?”

Kate nodded wearily.

The girls quickly remounted and moved into position.

Kate leaned forward, and for one alarming moment Lisa thought she was going to pass out again, but she simply murmured in Stewball’s ear. “Let’s go home, boy.”

Without further urging, the horse headed straight as an arrow for the Bar None. When he reached the corral, where most horses would have automatically stopped, he kept going, refusing to be sidetracked until he had reached the main house.

Carole jumped off Berry and rushed to help Kate down. Lisa bolted inside to get Mrs. Devine.

Kate’s mother immediately took over, helping her daughter first into a cool shower and then into bed with a good dose of fever medicine.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Kate protested. “I got too much sun, that’s all.”

“Looks more like the flu to me,” her mother told
her, placing a pitcher of water on the bedside table within easy reach.

“But it’s not flu season, Mom.”

“Sleep is the best thing for you,” Mrs. Devine told her firmly. “Call if you need anything, honey.” She kissed her daughter on the forehead and guided Lisa and Carole out of the room.

“I don’t like that fever,” she said, turning to them in the hallway. “If she’s not better by morning, I’m going to call the doctor.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Carole asked.

“No. You two got her home safe, and that’s enough for now. Why don’t you relax?”

“Would you mind if we used the computer? We’d like to e-mail Stevie.”

“That would be fine, girls,” Mrs. Devine said absently. “I’ll call you for dinner.”

When the girls signed on, they were surprised to find nothing from their friend in Massachusetts.

“What do you think, Lisa? A good sign or bad?”

Lisa considered for a moment. “Good, I guess. Maybe she finally found something more interesting to do than write us with all her complaints.”

Carole held up crossed fingers. “We can only hope. Now, what should we tell her about today?”

“Obviously we have to downplay the dinosaur dig.”

“Gee,” Carole said sarcastically. “Sifting dirt in the blazing sun for hours and hours and finding absolutely nothing … how could we possibly downplay that?”

“I enjoyed it.”

Carole shrugged. “Whatever. I know, we can tell her how Kate has the flu and that her mom may not let her out riding for the rest of the visit.”

“Wait a minute. Mrs. Devine didn’t say that,” Lisa protested.

“She didn’t
not
say it, either,” Carole pointed out. “Besides, we have to be creative here. We’re suppose to be having a terrible time, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Here,” said Carole, pushing Lisa away from the keyboard and taking her place. “Let me do it.”

Lisa watched, intrigued, as Carole carefully crafted a tale of endless work, thankless chores, and raging pestilence.

“You know, Carole, you’re getting really good at this,” she said, reading over her friend’s shoulder.

Carole put her arms behind her head and leaned back with a satisfied smile. “I know. This one is practically a work of art.”

T
HURSDAY EVENING
,
TWO
days before the wedding and one day before the big rehearsal dinner, the Lake family pulled up outside the Sinclairs’ house for yet another gathering of the immediate family.

Stevie stared at the house through the van window. It was a white two-story place with a spacious front lawn that was somewhat overwhelmed by a couple of giant spruce trees. A winding path bordered by cheerful flowers led the way up to the front door. All the windows were brightly lit, and party music filtered out into the sultry summer twilight.

Stevie leaned close to her window and fogged it with her breath, making the house disappear.
If only it were that easy
, she thought.

“The main party is going to be inside,” Mrs. Lake informed them. “But Margaret said she would put some things outside for you kids as well.”

“Oh, good, mosquito central,” Stevie muttered, drawing a frowning face in the vapor on the glass. Although she had slathered herself with insect repellent, she doubted very much that it would do any good. “Can I wait here in the air-conditioned, mosquito-free van?”

“The porch area is screened in,” her mother reminded her.

“Great. Trapped like a rat in a cage.”

“If you get restless, you’re welcome to run free. The Sinclairs own several acres of land behind the house. It almost makes me want to move here.”

Stevie shuddered at the very thought.

“Stevie, get out,” Alex said, shoving her. “You’re holding everyone up.”

“You should be thanking me,” she told him as she reluctantly slid open the door. “The mosquitoes aren’t the only bloodsuckers around here.”

“Why are you always moaning about Dava, anyway?” he asked, scrambling out behind her. “She’s not so bad.”

“For a girl,” her younger brother, Michael, said.

Stevie watched as Alex adjusted his baggy pants and fastened the top button of his shirt.

“How can you wear it like that?” she asked. “It’s ninety degrees out here, with ninety percent humidity.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledged. “But the babes dig it.”

“You mean Dava and her friends?” she said in her most scathing tone of voice. “Babes? I can’t believe you don’t see right through her.”

“She’s cute, and she has some cool CDs. What can I say? She’s okay by me.”

“But she’s so mean!” Stevie raged.

“That’s enough, Stevie,” her father warned. “We’re
all going inside now, and I want you on your best behavior. End of discussion.”

Stevie shuffled down the path to the door behind the rest of her family. “Dead man walking!” she cried.

Her dad shot her a stern look. “Knock it off.”

Stevie sighed. The door opened and her family was greeted warmly. Everyone but her, it seemed.

That suits me just fine
, she thought, sliding along a wall to avoid the crush of people.
I’ll get myself a plate of nibblies and a soda and find a corner of the room to hole up in. With any luck I won’t have to speak to anyone the whole night.

Careful to avoid all eye contact, Stevie made her way to the hors d’oeuvres table, piled a plate with goodies, and headed for the back door. She almost made it.

“Why, Steeevie, how nice to see you,” Dava crooned from where she stood amid a small group of boys and girls. “And there’s so much of you to see.” Her eyes landed on the plate of food. “Oh, how thoughtful of you to bring enough for everyone. Ooops, I’m sorry, that’s just for you, isn’t it?” Dava’s friends laughed.

Stevie could have died from humiliation, even though she knew very well she wasn’t even close to
being fat. “Dava, why don’t you go … eat a cookie,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t you eat one for me?” Dava said tartly.

“In that outfit, it looks like she ate one for all of us,” one of the other girls snickered.

Stevie glared. Taking the potential mosquito problem into consideration, and having a general dislike for dressing up, she had chosen to wear deep purple cotton slacks that flared at the ankle and a very loose gauzy white top that she had hoped would work like mosquito netting. Her long hair was pulled back with a headband that matched the color of her pants, and she had selected black ankle boots with chunky heels to finish the outfit. Now she noticed with dismay that the other girls at the party were all wearing flirty sun-dresses and strappy sandals.

“Where did you get those pants?” Dava cried. “I haven’t seen anything like them in years.”

Stevie raised her chin and forced herself to meet her cousin’s eyes. “I know you’re stuck out here in the sticks, Dava, but I’m surprised you haven’t heard these are in style.”

Dava looked uncertain. “What makes you think so?”

“Because I’m wearing them,” Stevie replied coolly, then beat a hasty retreat before anyone could think of
a response. She was shaking with anger, and any appetite she may have had when she arrived at the party had deserted her. Needing to get away and regroup but too intimidated to use the back way again, she slipped through the front door and headed down the driveway. She figured nobody would miss her.