Hayride (6 page)

Eagerly Carole dialed Cam’s number. A few months ago she’d met Cam while they’d both been competing in a horse show. Before that they had communicated several times on a computer bulletin board. What a surprise it had been to see him in person and discover that Cam was very nice—and very cute. Since then they’d gotten together several times, and she hoped he’d be able to make it to her party.

“Hello?”

“Cam!”

“Carole! How are you?”

“Fine. Cam, I have to tell you—” Unable to contain her excitement any longer, Carole plunged right in and told Cam all about the party.

“That’s the most original idea for a party I’ve ever heard,” he said when she had finished.

“So you can come?”

“I can hardly wait.”

With the matter of the party aside, Carole and Cam turned to their favorite subject: horses. Without mentioning her ankle—she didn’t want to worry him either—Carole told Cam about Starlight acting up on the trail. She knew she could count on Cam to give her thoughtful advice.

“There’s a really good book on the subject,” Cam said. “It’s called
Training the Young Horse for Pleasure and Show
, and it’s by Gordon Morse.”

“Gordon Morse? He’s an expert,” Carole commented.

“Exactly. Two-time member of the United States team, et cetera. My instructor recommended the book. Anyway, Morse says that you have to remember that your horse is still young,” Cam said. “Going on a trail ride and seeing all those strange things like water and birds can be upsetting for a horse Starlight’s age. But the more you expose him to new things, the more used to them he’ll get.”

Carole agreed. “I think sometimes I forget that he’s not an experienced old school horse. He’s so good most of the time.”

“Well, he should be—he’s got a good trainer,” Cam said.

Carole smiled into the receiver. Since Cam was a skilled rider and knew as much as she did about horses, a compliment from him meant a lot to her.

“Speaking of experienced horses, how’s Duffy?” Carole asked. Duffy was Cam’s horse, a handsome chestnut gelding. They had competed successfully in many horse shows together.

“The old boy is doing well,” Cam said. “I went for a trail ride yesterday, too, to give him a break from all the drilling we’ve been doing in our lessons.”

Carole suggested a couple of ways that Cam could keep Duffy fresh and interested in flat work. “Try schooling him in a different place from where you usually practice.
You know, you can even work on some things on the trail, like making him halt, making him bend around the corners—stuff like that.”

They talked for a while longer, comparing notes on riding and training. After a few minutes Carole looked at her watch. She really had to go if she wanted to call Lisa and Stevie and update them about the party.

“So I’ll see you Saturday, birthday girl,” Cam said enthusiastically. “It’ll be nice to meet some more of your friends.”

“Friends plus Veronica diAngelo,” Carole told him. She quickly explained that she hadn’t wanted to leave anyone out—even Veronica.

Cam remembered her from an unmounted Pony Club competition called a know-down. “Friends plus Veronica, then,” he said. “No matter who’s there, I know we’ll have a great time.”

Carole felt the same way. As soon as she hung up with Cam, she dialed Stevie’s number. She heard Stevie yell, “Five minutes, Mom! I promise!”

“Homework?” Carole asked when Stevie picked up.

“Lab report,” Stevie groaned. “But forget that. Who’s coming?”

Carole read off the “definitely coming” list. “That just leaves a space for whoever Lisa wants.”

“Then I have to inform you right away that Project
Date for Lisa Atwood had been successfully completed,” Stevie said triumphantly.

“Already?” Carole asked incredulously. “Who?”

Stevie summed up their trip to the mall and their encounter with Bob Harris, leaving out the shopping for Carole’s present and inventing some errands she had had to run for her mother.

“So he’s really cute?” Carole wanted to know.

“
Really
cute—and
perfect
for Lisa—friendly but not loud, good grades, and he has a job baby-sitting,” Stevie summed up. “Wait till you meet him.” They decided to three-way call Lisa so that they could all discuss the party.

Lisa picked up after one ring. “I was hoping it was you guys. What’s the news on the party?”

Carole read over the list one more time. “And last, but not least, Robert Harris, date of Lisa Atwood,” she concluded.

“Oh, he’s not
really
my date. I mean, Stevie’s the one who asked him,” Lisa said.

“Well, he’s certainly not
my
date. And I don’t think he’s Carole’s either, Lisa,” Stevie teased. “So I guess you’ll just have to take pity on him and
pretend
he’s your date—so he doesn’t feel left out.”

Lisa laughed. “Okay, it’s a deal,” she said.

Carole told them that she would call Bob to invite him herself and give him directions to her house. “So,”
she said, “have I mentioned that I think it’s going to be a great party?”

“Only about a thousand times,” commented Stevie. “Even if it does include Veronica and Simon Atherton.”

“Better the two of them than one of them,” Lisa pointed out logically. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll entertain each other.”

When she could control her giggles, Carole mentioned that she hadn’t been able to reach Veronica. “You talked to her at school, though, right, Stevie?” she asked.

Stevie thought for a minute. “I know I mentioned the party to Helen Sanderson at lunch today, and I told
her
that Veronica’s invited, so I’m sure she knows by now.”

Despite Veronica’s snooty behavior yesterday, Carole didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She tried to think of a surefire way to reach Veronica. “If I can’t get through tonight and I don’t see her at Pine Hollow tomorrow, I’ll leave a note on Garnet’s stall door,” she decided.

“Good idea,” Lisa said.

Stevie wasn’t convinced. “If you want to be sure of reaching her, you’d be better off leaving a note at the Ralph Lauren shop at the mall,” she joked. “You wouldn’t want to leave it someplace where Veronica might have to do some work.”

“Now, now,” Lisa said. “You’re going to have to be nice to her at the party.”

“Don’t worry—I’ll be in such a good mood, I’d be nice to my worst enemy.” Stevie paused. “Hey, come to think of it, that’s who she is.”

They all laughed. For a few minutes Carole forgot about her ankle entirely, she was having so much fun talking about the party. After a while, though, it began to throb insistently. She couldn’t even concentrate on what Stevie and Lisa were saying. All she could think of was how much she wanted to get off the phone and go soak it. “I think my dad’s waiting to use the phone,” she said finally.

“Then Lisa and I will have to matchmake without you,” Stevie said.

“You can fill me in at class tomorrow.” The three of them had their regular lesson with Max on Tuesday afternoons.

“Deal,” Stevie said.

Carole said good-bye and hung up. She felt a little bit bad about fibbing to her best friends, but she didn’t want them to worry. Gingerly, she peeled off her left sock. The ankle was swollen and black-and-blue—about twice as large as her right one.

At the back of her mind, Carole knew that she was hurt much worse than she had first thought. But she had too many wonderful things happening to give in to a stupid injury. She refused to let it wreck her birthday. If she told anyone, she might end up with no party at all.
Her father might cancel the hayride, and then she would have to call all her friends and explain. There would be plenty of time to have it examined after the weekend, if it still hurt.

For now, she had wrapped it up in an Ace bandage she had found in the medicine cabinet. Before going to soak it, she decided to make one more call. She looked up Veronica’s parents’ number—Veronica had her own phone line—and dialed the diAngelo residence. The maid answered.

“I just wanted to make sure Veronica knew she was invited to my party on Saturday night,” Carole said. The maid took down the details and promised to leave Veronica a message. There, that was done.

T
HE PHONE RANG
at the Marsten household. Phil answered it, hoping to hear Stevie’s voice again. Instead, a female voice he didn’t recognize right away spoke to him. “Stevie Lake was at the mall with Bob Harris yesterday. They were sitting together in the back of a restaurant, laughing a lot. They seemed to know each other
quite
well. If I were you, I’d do something … 
fast.
”

“Who is this?” Phil demanded. The line went dead. He listened to the dial tone for a minute, frowning.

“I’
LL GET IT
!” Cam grabbed the Nelsons’ cordless phone off the wall. “Hello?”

“Carole Hanson has been hanging out at Pine Hollow with a guy from Willow Creek Junior High,” a female voice said. Cam had no idea who it was. Confused, he stayed silent. “His name is Simon Atherton,” the voice went on. “He’s in the class above Carole. They’ve been spending
a lot
of time together. If I were you, I’d be worried.” Cam heard a click, then the line went dead.

The Lakes’ phone rang for a third time. Before her mother could complain, Stevie answered it.

“Hi, Stevie.”

“Phil?”

“Yeah, it’s me again. Listen, Veronica diAngelo just called me, and she’s up to no good.…”

S
TEVIE FLUNG HER
book bag down with a vengeance. She was so steaming mad that she could hardly believe she had made it to lunch period. Her first four classes had passed in an angry blur. After Phil had called her the night before, she’d been
burning
to call Carole and Lisa. Mrs. Lake, however, had had other ideas. She told Stevie that she had already spent way too much time on the phone, and that she’d just have to wait to talk to her friends when she saw them the next day. Homework came first—or at least, Mrs. Lake added sarcastically, fourth. No amount of begging and pleading had changed her mind.

After thinking about Veronica’s wicked plans all evening and all morning, Stevie was ready to explode. The
Saddle Club had made a big effort to include her in Carole’s party, and Veronica’s way of saying thank you was to try to break up Stevie and Phil.

Stevie scanned the lunchroom furiously. She quickly spotted her prey. Veronica was lounging at a table with some of her underlings—the younger girls who tended to flock around her in awe. Stevie strode toward them, her jaw set and her hands clenched.

“Stevie! Wait up!” Stevie spun on her heel so violently that she almost collided with Bob Harris. He had been hurrying to catch up with her.

“Whoa! Where are you going in such a rush?” he asked.

Stevie thought quickly. She could hardly explain last night’s events to him. “I could ask you the same thing,” she said lightly.

“Fair enough,” Bob admitted. “So,” he began casually, “that was fun running into you at the mall the other day.”

Stevie grinned. Bob Harris did not normally come chasing after her at lunch. She wondered how long it would take him to get around to mentioning Lisa. “Yeah,” she said noncommittally. “It’s always nice to run into people you know.”

“Looked like you and your friend were having a good time,” he said.

“We were,” Stevie answered.

“It’s—it’s Lisa, right?” Bob asked. Stevie smiled again. Bob Harris, starting soccer player, did not usually stutter.

“That’s right,” Stevie said.

“I guess she doesn’t go to Fenton Hall, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Stevie said. She felt the tiniest bit guilty about not volunteering more information about Lisa to Bob, but she knew she had to protect Lisa. If Bob knew that Lisa adored him, he might get scared and back off. Besides, it was fun keeping him at bay!

“She goes to Willow Creek Junior High,” Stevie informed him. “It doesn’t much matter, though,” she added as an afterthought. “She’d be a straight-A student wherever she went.”

“Straight A’s, huh?”

Stevie nodded. She didn’t want to make Lisa sound like a total brain or a geek like Simon Atherton, but she knew that Bob also did very well in school and would probably respect a girl for having good grades.

“So does she have time to go out?” Bob asked.

“Go out?” Stevie asked innocently. This was better than she’d expected: Bob was hinting around to find out if Lisa had a boyfriend!

“You know, socialize,” Bob said uncomfortably.

“Oh, sure,” Stevie said, pretending to get the hint. “We go to TD’s all the time.”

“We?” Bob asked nervously.

“Yeah, Lisa, Carole—the girl who’s having the party—and I.”

“Oh!” Bob relaxed with a loud sigh. “No, I meant—like—well—”

“Yes?”

“Well, does she, say, go to the junior high dances at Willow Creek?”

“I think so,” Stevie said. “Doesn’t almost everyone?”

Bob said she was probably right. He looked as if he were ready to let Stevie go. Then he squared his shoulders and looked her in the eye. “All right, Stevie, what I mean is, does she go out, socialize, or go to the dances with a particular
guy
?”