Horse Spy (9 page)

“No, it’s Karya,” Stevie said unexpectedly. The way she knew was that suddenly all the men in black—no matter what colors they were actually wearing—began to swarm around the driveway, lining up to protect the passenger who would emerge from the car.

A girl about their own age, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, climbed out. She reached back in for a bag that must contain riding clothes and boots.

“I’ll see you later, Mom,” she said.

“Call me at Grandma’s when I should come pick you up,” said the mother.

“I will—or someone else will,” the girl said lightly, glancing at the phalanx of guardians around her. She closed the car door and then looked around while her mother backed the car out of the driveway. The girl’s eyes lit on The Saddle Club, perched on the fence.

“Carole Hanson?” she called

Carole nodded.

“I’m Karya!” The girl waved.

A
S SOON AS
the words were spoken, and before Carole even had a chance to wave back, the security men swarmed, enclosing The Saddle Club and Karya in a tight circle.

“This is weird,” said Stevie. “Do I keep saying that?”

Lisa nodded. “It makes me feel really safe,” joked Lisa, though she knew she and her friends all felt the same way. The presence of so many men trying to make them safe only served to make them feel endangered, totally aware of some new kind of vulnerability.

Within the circle, introductions were made quickly.

For all the fanfare that had attended her arrival, it seemed ironic that Karya so immediately put all three girls at total ease and made each one of them understand that they liked this girl who came with so many trappings.

“I’m so glad to be here!” Karya said, reaching out to hug her new friends. They were pleased to hug her back.

“You really want to muck out a stall?” Lisa asked her.

“Two!” Karya declared. “At home they never let me do anything!”

“We’ll let you,” Stevie promised. “In fact, we might even invite you back.”

Karya laughed. “Let’s get someplace a little quieter,” she said. She looked around at the circle of men who enclosed them. None of the security men was making a sound, so the girls knew that Karya didn’t mean quiet in the sense of noiseless. She just meant private.

“How about the dressing room?” Carole suggested.

“Much quieter,” Karya agreed. The girls showed her the way.

They knew the guards were standing outside the dressing area, but inside, it was just the four of them. Karya took her riding clothes out of the bag and slipped into them quickly. There were no royal patches, presidential seals, or flags on her shirt. They were just riding clothes, very much like the ones The Saddle Club were wearing.

“Whew,” Stevie said when Karya had changed. “I was a little worried you’d be dressed like the security guys.”

Karya laughed. “Aren’t they a hoot? All they know about riding they’ve learned from American cowboy movies. They blend right in here, don’t they?”

“Yes, like a dozen sore thumbs,” Lisa said, nodding. “Have you got them around all the time? I mean, they’ve been nice enough, but …”

Karya sat on one of the benches to explain. “Well, my father kind of insists on it,” she said. “He got elected, and most of the people who voted for him really like him. Unfortunately, some of the people who didn’t vote for him really
hate him. They’ve threatened him and they’ve threatened me. They haven’t threatened my mother, which is why she gets away with one guard—he was in the back seat. When I’m not with one of them, I need to have several. I think the collection they’ve assembled for our ride is more than usual, but my father wanted it.”

“You mean they’re just doing their jobs?” Carole asked.

“I guess that’s a good way to put it,” said Karya.

“They sort of give me the willies,” said Lisa. “I was thinking about it when you got here. If it takes this many men to be sure you’re safe, then you must be very unsafe.”

“It’s not really like that,” said Karya. “And besides, after a while, you’ll find you can ignore them.”

“In those getups?” Stevie asked.

“It’s not any easier when they’re all wearing those subtle shiny black suits and bug-eyed sunglasses, is it?” Karya countered.

Stevie shrugged, laughing. “No, I guess not.”

“And besides, they won’t always be with us,” said Karya.

“They’ll let us ride alone?” Carole asked.

“Well, maybe not exactly
let
us …,” Karya said suggestively.

“I knew I was going to like you,” Stevie said.

The curtain that hid the dressing area was pulled back, and Mrs. Reg came in. She introduced herself to Karya and then turned to The Saddle Club.

“I heard some talk about mucking out stalls,” she began. “I think it’s a fine idea, but I hardly see how any of that is going to get done as long as you all are sitting in here talking up a storm.”

Karya stood up and saluted sharply. “Take me to the nearest pitchfork!”

Mrs. Reg smiled broadly and then glanced at Stevie, Lisa, and Carole. “You three could learn a thing or two from this nice girl,” she teased.

“See what we have to put up with?” Carole asked.

“And you love every minute of it, don’t you?” asked Karya.

“Yeah, but don’t let Mrs. Reg know that,” said Lisa in a stage whisper. Mrs. Reg ignored her.

The girls proceeded to the dirty stalls that had been saved for Karya.

There were three stalls to muck out, and then Nickel needed a grooming. It turned out that Karya was almost as good at picking out hooves as Stevie was, though Stevie was able to give her a couple of pointers.

“Some people think it’s strength,” Stevie said. “But it’s not at all. It’s the angle and leverage. It’s really—”

“All in the wrist?” Karya said, imitating Stevie’s motion.

“Yep,” Stevie agreed, admiring the way the clods of dirt and the small clump of gravel flew out of Nickel’s hoof under Karya’s now expert wrist action.

Once Nickel’s hooves were clean, Karya picked up a brush and began grooming the pony vigorously. He loved the attention, and it was clear Karya was enjoying herself.

A single guard—the one dressed in the fringed shirt—stood nearby. Stevie suspected that was just in case one of the horses pulled a gun on the girls. The guard had his back to the foursome. Stevie got an idea. Carole and Lisa knew it from the look on her face. Karya, too, knew a mischievous grin when she saw one.

Stevie put her finger to her lips. They all set down their grooming tools, tiptoed down the aisle, and sneaked into Penny’s stall, two doors down. They crouched down so that they could see through the cracks in the board. They waited.

Eventually Stevie had to toss a small handful of feed pellets at Nickel so that he would make a sound that the guard would respond to. Nickel snorted. The guard turned.

Even through the cracks in Penny’s stall wall, they could see the man’s face turn pale. His charge had disappeared! Instantly he began running down the aisle, poking at a bale of hay, picking up a pile of leathers.

He paused, clearly frantic. Carole knew what was going through his mind. Either he had to find Karya himself or he had to admit to his colleagues that he’d let her get snatched out from under his nose. Then he stopped and looked again. There was no exit door behind him and there were only four stalls until the dead end of the hallway. He knew then that it was a joke and he called her name and spoke in a language The Saddle Club could not understand.

Karya stood up, a little sheepishly. Lisa, Carole, and Stevie joined her.

“It was just a joke,” Stevie said.

“He knows that,” said Karya. “Only he says it wasn’t very funny and he promises we won’t get away with it again.”

“No, next time, we’re going to have to be much cleverer,” Stevie said. She noticed that Karya did not translate that for the agent. She just smiled.

The girls had completed their stable work, and it was time to finish the tour of the stable and then mount up for the best part of the afternoon.

“You’ve got to meet our championship visitors,” Lisa said, leading the way around to the other side of the U-shaped stable.

“Blue and Polaris,” Stevie added.

Carole explained why they were there; by the time they got to the stalls, Karya had the full story.

Frieda was standing by Polaris’s stall when they got there. The girls were a little surprised to see her, though she often seemed to show up to watch them work with Polaris and Blue.

Carole introduced Karya to Frieda, who seemed surprised to see
them
.

“Aren’t you going to be training this afternoon?” Frieda asked.

“No. This is the day we’re going for a trail ride with Karya. Remember?”

“Oh, right. Is that why all those weird men are standing around?”

“Yes,” Stevie told her. “But don’t worry. As soon as we leave, they’re all going to follow us so Max can give you a lesson in peace.”

“No, I’m not having a lesson this afternoon. I just stopped by,” Frieda said. “See you all later,” she added. Then, before the girls could walk away, Frieda returned her attention to Polaris, rubbing his cheek and patting his neck.

“She’s a little odd,” said Karya.

“She just started riding,” Carole said—as if that fact alone would explain anybody’s odd behavior.

“She went for a trail ride with us last weekend,” Lisa said.

“See?” Karya said, as if that proved something.

“What’s so odd about that?” Stevie asked. “You’re going for a trail ride with us today. We’re good riders and good company and she really learned a lot from us. Lots of people want to ride with us—even some presidential daughters! Who knows who’ll want to ride with us next week!”

“Let’s stop all this talking and get to the important stuff,” said Carole. Nobody asked what she meant.

Max and Red had tacked up all four horses while the girls had been doing the stable chores. Karya seemed a tiny bit disappointed that she hadn’t been able to tack up her own horse, but Max promised her she could untack Barq when they got back. “And I suspect my mother will let you soap the saddle, too, if you want.”

“It’s a deal,” Karya said, offering her hand.

The girls mounted their horses in the schooling ring and then walked them over to the doorway where the good-luck horseshoe was nailed. In turn, each girl touched the shoe.

“It’s one of our oldest traditions here,” said Stevie.

“See, nobody who has ever touched the horseshoe has been seriously hurt in a riding accident.”

“Some people say it’s because the shoe is good luck,” Stevie told her.

“Personally, I think it’s because it reminds us before every ride that riding can be dangerous and we have to ride safely,” said Carole.

“Whatever,” said Karya. “It sounds like it works.”

Before they had a chance to leave, Alek came over to Karya with a few final words of instruction and, it seemed, a
warning. He also handed her a walkie-talkie and waited patiently, his arms folded, until she clipped it to her belt. Then, and only then, were they finally allowed to be on their way.

They began walking their horses across the ring toward the gate to the paddock. Every ride began at a leisurely walk so that the horses had a chance to warm up. It also gave Stevie a chance to look around. As she and her friends moved toward the gate, the security agents spread out along the trail ahead. Stevie observed that one of them, standing in the middle of the field, held a pitchfork. In an effort to “blend in,” the man had managed to stick out in the most bizarre manner. Well, she reminded herself, he was just doing his job.

Then she spotted a very large horse van rumbling along the road. “What’s that?” she asked.

“Those are horses for the security men,” Karya said.

“Max has horses they could use,” said Carole.

“My father insisted,” said Karya.

“So be it,” said Lisa.

“Let’s have some fun,” said Stevie, her eyes once again twinkling in that manner that said trouble.

“No more hiding in stalls?” asked Karya.

“No, this time we’re going to be much cleverer!” said Stevie.

“Let’s do it!” Karya agreed.

T
HE GIRLS CONTINUED
across the schooling ring at a sedate pace. Lisa dismounted, opened the gate to the paddock, and then, after everyone had passed through, closed it and latched it behind her before remounting and continuing toward the woods. As they walked and warmed their horses, they greeted the men who were stationed in the field along the path.