Gold Medal Rider (12 page)

S
TEVIE
,
HER
CAMERA
in her hands, stood by the fence that separated the show-jumping arena from the warm-up ring. Her heart thudded with excitement. The afternoon had gone by so quickly! Nigel’s horse, Campfire, had ended up in tenth place in his division, and Nigel had been thrilled. Now it was Kate’s turn to shine.

The competitors for the advanced division were the last to go, and they jumped in reverse order of standings. That meant that the lowest-placed horse jumped first, and the highest-ranked one—Karen’s gray, Singalong—jumped last. Southwood was second to last.

One by one the advanced horses went into the ring. Stevie hadn’t paid too much attention to the early ones,
since they didn’t have a chance of beating Kate. She and Lisa and Carole had done their best to keep Kate laughing and calm. This was Kate’s last competition, and they wanted her to enjoy the final day.

Inside the arena, a small black horse tackled the course bravely. Stevie watched him jump a green wall and a wide Swedish oxer, then turn the corner toward the triple combination, a series of three jumps in a row that a lot of horses were knocking down. The black horse jumped the first two parts correctly, then nearly stumbled and hit the third with a crash. Rails fell to the ground. Stevie watched the ground crew rebuild the fence. A sudden thought made her hurry back to the center of the warm-up area.

“Kate,” Stevie said, “come watch the next horse go through the triple combination. I think there’s something funny about the ground right before the last part. I think that’s why so many people are having it down.”

Kate trotted Southwood to the edge of the arena. “You’re right,” she said as she watched the next horse go. “It looks like the ground’s gotten torn up by the other competitors. There must be a soft spot there—a puddle or something. But look! The rider can’t see the problem until she’s already jumped the second fence, and then it’s too late to avoid the bad spot.”

Kate watched another horse flounder through the triple, scattering rails. “Thanks, Stevie! That’s a huge help!”

Now only three riders remained in the warm-up: Kate,
Karen, and the man who was in third. Lisa and Carole set one of the warm-up fences to five feet tall, and Kate popped Southwood back and forth over it a few times. In the show ring the third-place man jumped and had two rails down. It was Kate’s turn.

Stevie, Carole, and Lisa clustered by the gate. When Lisa had watched Kate do cross-country, she had thought it was the most exciting thing she’d ever seen; but now her heart beat even faster, because she knew Kate had a chance to win. She realized this event was Kate’s last chance, and she really wanted Kate to end her competitive career as a champion.

Kate circled at the far end of the arena, asked Southwood to pick up a canter, and pointed him at the first fence. He jumped beautifully, snapping his knees beneath his chin. They soared over the fences one by one until they came to the triple. Stevie had been taking pictures again, but she lowered her camera. She wanted to see this clearly.

Kate turned wide and approached the first fence far to the left-hand side. She took Southwood through the triple so close to the left sides of the jumps that Carole was afraid Kate’s left leg would hit them, but Kate’s line avoided the trouble spot in front of the third fence. Southwood jumped the last part of the triple as cleanly and easily as he had jumped the first. Kate and Southwood flew over the final two fences and galloped toward the gate. A perfect round!

Kate pulled Southwood up just outside the arena and
dismounted into her friends’ arms. “You did it!” Carole shouted.

“Here,” Kate said in return, thrusting Southwood’s reins into Carole’s hands. “Hold him for a second—I’ll be right back!”

Kate ran toward the gate. She got there just before Karen rode Singalong into the arena. “Karen—stop!” she called. Karen halted her horse and looked at Kate strangely. Kate blushed, knowing that Karen remembered her comments at the dressage ring. But that didn’t matter now. “There’s a patch of mud in front of the last element of the triple,” Kate said breathlessly. “It’s slippery and the horses are knocking the fence down. I rode through on the far left side and I got through fine.”

Karen grinned. “Thanks,” she said. She clucked to Singalong, then pulled him up again. “Thanks a lot,” she added. She went into the ring.

Kate went back to where The Saddle Club waited with Southwood. “What did you say to her?” Carole asked.

Kate shrugged. “Nothing much. Let’s watch her jump.” A strange lightness filled her heart. She hoped that the advice she gave Karen would make up for the rude comments she’d made to her before. She wished it could make up for all the times she’d let her desire to beat people get out of hand. If Karen jumped cleanly, she would beat Kate—but suddenly Kate didn’t care. Southwood had jumped clear. He had done his best. Kate had done her
best, too. If Karen won, it was simply because she deserved to win.

For the first time in her life, Kate knew that second place would be good enough.

The four girls moved to the gate. Kate took Southwood’s reins and stroked his long neck. “You’re a champ,” she whispered. Karen’s horse picked up a canter and jumped the first fences easily. They made the turn to the triple. Karen aimed Singalong wide to the left.

“You told her,” Stevie said in amazement.

Kate shrugged and smiled.

“B-But—,” Stevie sputtered, “if she goes clean, she wins!”

Singalong jumped the first part clean, and the second, and the third.

“Wow,” breathed Lisa. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“Yes, I did,” Kate said simply. Her friends looked at her. Gradually they realized what she meant. Kate still wanted to win, but this time she didn’t want to win at any cost.

“Oh, Kate,” Lisa said softly. She felt proud of her friend.

In the ring, Karen turned Singalong toward the second to last fence, and they jumped it easily. She rode toward the final fence—Singalong jumped beautifully—he cleared it—he won.

“Oh, Kate!” Stevie said. She didn’t know whether to be happy or disappointed for her friend. Kate had come so
close to winning. Kate hugged Stevie, then Carole and Lisa.

“Second place is still amazing,” Stevie said, squeezing Kate’s arm.

“It is amazing,” Kate said, grinning. “I feel great!”

Nigel and Dorothy came running from the stands to congratulate her. Kate accepted their praise happily.
She really feels better this way
, Stevie realized.
She knows Karen won fair and square.

As if to confirm Stevie’s thoughts, Kate said to her, “This feels more like a victory than any class I ever actually won. I did my best, and so did Southwood. He was great!”

In the middle of all the celebration, Karen rode up to Kate, bent down, and held out her hand. Kate shook it heartily.

“Congratulations,” Kate said to Karen. “You deserve it.”

Karen smiled back. “So do you.”

T
HE
COLD
SPRING
rain beat against Lisa’s bedroom window in Willow Creek. Lisa sat in her pink armchair, her face covered with chicken pox, studying the photograph of Kate and Southwood jumping the cross-country fence. “It’s great,” she said, handing it back to Stevie. “They look terrific.”

“I’ll get copies made for all of us,” Stevie promised. “We need to remember the brief return of Kate Devine, Champion Event Rider!”

“But no gold medals,” Lisa said. “I really think—well, I really think Kate made the right choice. She knows herself best, after all. Even though she did learn what it takes to be a true champion.”

“She also said that she wanted to end on a good note,” Carole added. “She wanted to be proud of herself. I can understand that.”

“Kate really is a great person,” Lisa said. “I know she felt terrible about Beatrice’s accident.”

“Look at this one,” Stevie said, handing another photo to Lisa. Lisa laughed. The photo showed Dorothy and Nigel’s stable in North Carolina. The outside door was decorated with yards of blue ribbon—the color of a champion. Another picture showed Southwood’s stall, which had been painted blue. A cake sat outside the door.

“Carrot cake,” Lisa remembered. “For Southwood and Kate. It was sweet of Drew to decorate like that, after Dorothy phoned him to tell him how Kate did. Drew agreed with the rest of us—he thought Kate’s second place was as good as a first. It was a nice homecoming surprise.”

“It was a little weird,” Stevie said darkly. “The cake and the ribbon were fine, but painting Southwood’s stall? That’s weird.”

“If you’d ever thought of an idea like that, you wouldn’t think it was weird,” Lisa countered, grinning mischievously. “You’d think it was brilliant.”

“If Stevie ever started painting the stalls, Max would have her head,” Carole predicted.

“Exactly,” Stevie said. “Weird.”

“Drew is weird, but he’s sweet,” Lisa said. “He writes poetry, you know. Nice poems.”

“What!” Stevie and Carole started laughing. Lisa blushed slightly beneath her pox. “He’s written you, like, love poems?” asked Stevie.

“No! Give me a break,” Lisa said. “He just sent me a funny verse when Dorothy told him I had chicken pox. I got it yesterday, otherwise I would have told you about it already. He wrote a letter, too, and told me all about Southwood.” Lisa sighed. “And he told me, again, how perfect I’d be for his little brother. He wants me to meet him sometime.”

“Oh, yuck,” Stevie declared. “As if we don’t know enough icky boys already. What’s his name?”

“Edwin. Drew calls him Eddy.”

“Sounds dreadful,” said Stevie. “Dorky Drew and Dreadful Eddy.”

“Dready Eddy,” Carole said.

“Like it matters,” Lisa said. “When would I ever meet him anyway? We won’t see Dorothy or Nigel anytime soon, let alone Drew, let alone his little brother.”

“Here’s the last picture,” Stevie said, handing it to Lisa.

“Oh!” Lisa said. It was a beautiful shot of Southwood and Kate galloping around the show-jumping ring, taking their victory lap behind Karen and Singalong. A long red ribbon streamed from Southwood’s bridle. Kate was smiling. Southwood looked proud, as though he knew how well he’d done.

“When I see that photo, I’m still a little disappointed in
Kate’s decision,” Carole admitted. “I
know
Kate made the right choice. But Southwood really was fantastic—I think he truly has all the makings of an Olympic horse. And I’m sorry it won’t be one of our friends that rides him there.”

“But it might be. Think of it, Carole. Dorothy and Nigel bought Southwood,” Lisa reminded her.

“That was amazing, really,” said Stevie. “Somehow I never thought about Beatrice selling Southwood to Nigel. But she knew Nigel would take good care of him. Beatrice may be human after all.”

“So, in four years,” said Lisa, “Nigel and Southwood—Olympic bound!”

The phone on Lisa’s nightstand rang. Lisa picked it up. “Oh,
Drew
—hi!” she said, turning a little red as her friends burst out laughing. Lisa listened another moment. “Really?” she said. She grabbed the phone with both hands. “Really?
Really?
Wow!”

She covered the receiver with her hand. “Southwood is trying out for the Olympics,” she said breathlessly.

“But that’s four years—,” Carole said.

“Not the next one—this one! This summer!”

“Really!”
Stevie and Carole shrieked.

“Best of all”—Lisa’s face lit up with excitement—“Drew says Dorothy and Nigel have invited us to come along!”

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.