Horse Spy (6 page)

F
RIDAY MORNING
brought good news. By the time the girls had stumbled into the stable, tacked up Blue and Polaris, and remembered who was riding and who was making notes, they were ready for good news. It was their fifth very early morning in a row and they were beginning to frazzle at the edges.

“The girls are coming!” Max announced.

“We’re already here,” Lisa told him, rubbing her still sleepy eyes.

“No, I mean the owners,” he said.

“Like, here?” Stevie asked.

“Yes, like here,” Max said. “Ellen and Lucy will be here this afternoon for the weekend. You’re off the hook for exercising all weekend long.”

“So we can sleep in tomorrow?” Carole asked.

“Only if you want to miss the best part of the day!” Max declared. The girls groaned. They did not share Max’s opinion about the best part of the day, since they each generally
thought the day should begin around nine o’clock, not six! But Max was teasing and they all knew it.

“What if they don’t like the work we’ve done for them?” Carole asked.

“Of course they’re going to like it,” Stevie said. “They got to sleep late this week!”

“Don’t worry, girls,” Max said. “We were doing exactly what Dorothy wanted us to do, which is exactly what I would have recommended in the first place. Ellen and Lucy are going to be pleased, I’m sure. But before all this chitchat takes away the little time we have to work, let’s pay attention to this morning’s workout. What’s up first, Lisa?”

Lisa checked the board. “Balance,” she said. And the work began.

An hour later, while the girls were finishing up with the horses, giving them a grooming and some hay and water, they talked about what they were going to do with their sudden and unexpected free time besides sleep. They hadn’t realized that Ellen and Lucy were going to be at Pine Hollow that weekend.

“Well, we’re going to watch them train,” Carole said.

“Some,” Lisa said.

“And not at seven
A
.
M
.!” Stevie declared.

“Okay, so we can sleep a little later,” Carole agreed.

“And that means we can have a sleepover,” said Lisa.

“At my place,” said Stevie.

They agreed.

“And that should give us enough time to plan for our visit with Karya next week,” said Carole.

“That won’t take much time to plan,” Lisa said. “First we’ll
let her muck out a stall—one should be enough to remind her that she really doesn’t much like to do that anyway—and then we’ll ride to the creek and talk about everything in the world the way we usually do and then we’ll come back here again. Easy as pie.” Her friends laughed.

“Well, that’s decided, so we’ll have to talk about something else tonight,” Stevie said.

“Horses?” Carole suggested.

“Works for me,” Lisa agreed.

“Okay, then. Meet you here this afternoon so we can give these big guys a final grooming before Ellen and Lucy arrive.”

They changed their clothes, grabbed their book bags, and accepted the lift that Deborah offered them to get to their schools.

Even though it was a Friday and even though that meant that Stevie had a French vocabulary test, Lisa had double-period chemistry lab, and Carole had to sit through Joe Novick’s report on armor in the Middle Ages plus an assembly on fire drills, the day seemed to fly by. At four o’clock, the girls met on their way back to Pine Hollow.

“ ‘Dormitory!’ ” Stevie grumbled. “Who needs to know how to say ‘dormitory’ in French? I’m never going to live in one—at least not in France!”

“I take it the vocabulary test didn’t go well?” Lisa asked.

“No, it went fine,” Stevie said. “I just missed the one word.”

“What is it?” Carole asked, though she wasn’t sure why. She was taking Spanish.

“Dortoir,”
Stevie said.

“And you’ll never forget it now, will you?” asked Lisa.

“No, but I’m going to have trouble working it into conversations, and I’m not sure how I feel about my best friend pointing out important life lessons like learning from my mistakes.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Lisa said.

“Hey! They’re here!” Carole said, interrupting the life lesson. Lisa and Stevie looked where Carole was pointing.

Max was in the schooling ring with two very familiar horses and two unfamiliar riders. They could only be Ellen Walker riding Blue and Lucy Hatfield on Polaris.

The girls paused where they were standing to watch. It was a pleasure. The girls and their mounts moved together in the wonderful liquid manner of the finest pairings of horse and rider, the animals responding to every slight signal from the girls, all the while looking as though it took no effort at all.

“Wow,” said Stevie, unable to contain her admiration—or to express it any better than that, though that seemed to be enough for Lisa and Carole as well.

After a few minutes, the girls walked on toward the ring. They put down their books and climbed up onto the fence so they could watch.

Max was so focused on his work that he didn’t even acknowledge their arrival until he completed the suppling exercise routine that was now so familiar to The Saddle Club—and was equally familiar to Ellen and Lucy.

And when it was completed, Stevie, Carole, and Lisa all applauded. “That was great!” Lisa said.

The riders noticed them for the first time then. “Girls, I’d like you to meet your stand-ins,” Max said. The Saddle Club hopped down from the fence for the introductions. Of course,
they already knew one another from the phone calls, but they’d never seen one another, so it took a few minutes to straighten out who was who.

“Polaris is wonderful to ride!” Lisa said to Lucy, patting the horse enthusiastically. Lucy agreed and thanked Lisa for her help.

Ellen and Stevie were chatting about Blue’s flying changes, and Carole joined in on all the conversations. Not surprisingly, the girls found a lot of common ground.

“Ahem,” said Max. “I think we have more work to do here.…”

While Max got back to work with Lucy and Ellen, The Saddle Club returned to their positions on the top rail of the schooling ring fence and resumed their silence except for an occasional whisper like “Oh,
that’s
how that’s supposed to be done!”

When the lesson was over, Stevie, Lisa, and Carole all jumped down off the fence again and picked up their conversations where Max had stopped them.

“Polaris always wants to turn left when we get to the fence at the far end of the ring,” Lisa told Lucy.

“I know. He does that with me, too. I try to let him know I’m in charge of direction about four steps before he gets to make up his mind.”

“That’s just what I did!” said Lisa.

“It works, too.”

“Most of the time,” said Lisa. The girls laughed.

“And that’s nothing compared to how Blue starts acting up when she thinks it’s time for the lesson to be over!” said Stevie.

“Right,” Ellen agreed. “Look at her now!” Ellen was seated in Blue’s saddle and had the horse facing away from the stable. Except that the horse’s head was turned almost completely around and she was gazing longingly at the stable door!

“I think she’s trying to tell you something,” said Carole.

“And her message is loud and clear,” said Ellen as she dismounted. The girls all laughed together and then agreed that perhaps Blue had a good idea. It was time for a rest, and The Saddle Club could help.

Carole took Blue’s bridle and led her toward the stable. Before she got in the door, two cars pulled into Pine Hollow’s driveway. One was the big, shiny, dark-windowed SUV the girls had seen the day the horses arrived. It would be Mrs. Walker with her friend who lived nearby. The other was a rented sedan. Mrs. Hatfield stepped out of the driver’s seat and glared impolitely at Mrs. Walker, who was climbing out of the passenger seat of the SUV.

“Ready to go, Lucy?” Mrs. Hatfield called out before Mrs. Walker had a chance to do the same.

“Let’s leave!” said Mrs. Walker, cutting through the amenities.

“In a minute, Mom,” Lucy answered.

“Have to look after Blue,” said Ellen.

The girls hurried into the sanctuary of the stable with their horses.

“We can look after these guys,” said Carole.

“No, it’s okay. We can help.”

And they did. It didn’t take the five of them much time to look after the two horses. The odd thing, Carole thought, was
how the whole mood had changed the minute the mothers had showed up.

“Is it always like that?” Stevie asked.

“They don’t like each other,” said Lucy.

“But you two like each other, don’t you?” asked Lisa.

“Well, we’ve been competing against each other for a long time,” Lucy said.

“And who usually wins?” Stevie asked.

“She does.”

Both girls had answered at exactly the same time and pointed at each other. Stevie started to laugh because it was funny that each seemed to think the other was more successful, but then she realized maybe it wasn’t funny. The girls clearly
did
like one another, but there was an edge, a part of each of them that recognized the friend as a competitor, or perhaps the competitor as a friend. Their competitiveness didn’t have the same icy quality that was apparent between the mothers, but it seemed their friendship wasn’t as close as each of them would like to believe.

“Come on, let’s get these horses cleaned up and give them the rest they’ve so clearly earned,” Carole said, breaking the moment of silence that Ellen and Lucy had produced.

Ten minutes later, the horses were groomed and fed and Ellen and Lucy had gone with their mothers. The women had sat in their separate cars in air-conditioned isolation, not saying a word to each other or to Max. Nobody had suggested to either of them that they do anything different.

When they’d gone, Lisa, Stevie, and Carole finished up the few chores that were left: They dusted off the saddles, straightening out the leathers so that there were no twists in
them as they hung, and they brought a fresh flake of hay to each horse.

“Well, that was interesting,” Lisa said as the three of them sat in the locker area when they were finished.

“The girls really like one another,” Stevie said. “I’m sure of it.”

“They’ve got so much in common,” said Carole.

“Right, they both own expensive horses and they train at the same stable, and they’re serious riders, and they compete against each other …,” Lisa observed.

“And their mothers hate each other,” Stevie added.

“And each other’s daughter,” said Lisa.

“And their horses!” Carole said. “How could anybody hate a
horse?
”

She was still shaking her head in incomprehension when they went to report to Mrs. Reg that everything had been done.

“Did you catch the mother act?” Stevie asked, referring to the bizarre behavior of the two adults while they were in the parking area.

“You know,” said Mrs. Reg, without answering Stevie’s question, “I remember a little boy from a long time ago.”

The girls exchanged glances. Mrs. Reg had a way of launching into an old tale at the oddest time and in the oddest way. They never knew what the story was going to be, and often, when it was done, they never knew why it had been told. But they always knew that when Mrs. Reg had a story to tell, it was probably worth listening to. The girls perched on the chairs and benches in her office and listened.

“He had this pony he loved a lot. Sweet pony, he was. In fact, he was named Sweet William after the wildflower, but the boy called him Billy. Can’t remember the boy’s name. That pony had the sweetest, kindest disposition you ever knew—as long as that little boy was there. He’d do anything the boy asked. He never balked, never kicked, never bucked—as long as that little boy was there. But he was impossible when the boy wasn’t there. He could barely be led on a line. He’d kick anyone who tried to clean out his hoof, and he’d bite anyone who tried to put a saddle on him. Impossible. That’s what he was. But the boy never saw it. Can’t blame him, really. The pony always knew whenever the little boy was around and behaved perfectly. It was only when he wasn’t nearby so the little boy never witnessed, and never believed, what everybody else always told him—that Billy was a bad pony.

“Then, one day, the little boy got too big for Billy. He just grew too large to ride the pony, and though they were devoted to one another, the boy had to sell him. It wasn’t easy for that little boy, but he did it. A nice family with a nice little girl, just the right size for Billy, came by. The little girl rode Billy and fell in love with Sweet William—she called him by his whole name. And sweet he was, until they got him home.

“That was when the new owners saw what the little boy never had seen. Billy kicked, bit, and bucked. He chewed on his stall door, kicked his manger off the stall wall, and even butted the family dog.”

Mrs. Reg stopped talking. That was the way her stories usually seemed to end—right in the middle. That was one of
the other strange things about Mrs. Reg’s stories. Carole stood up, ready to leave and figure out exactly what Mrs. Reg thought she was saying. Lisa wasn’t ready to give up, though.

“So what happened?” she asked.

Mrs. Reg looked puzzled, as if she didn’t understand why anybody would be asking a question about what she’d said. She shrugged. “Well, the little girl wanted to retrain Billy, but her parents sued, of course,” she said. “And they won.”

She picked up her phone book, checked a number in it, and then lifted the phone from its cradle to make a call. The story was definitely over now. It was time to leave.