Lisa (6 page)

While we’re on the subject of endless possibilities, I just saw my devious brothers whispering together in the kitchen. I’m sure they’re already planning some lame Halloween pranks to play on me, and I want to make sure I’m ready to give as good as I get. Does either of you know where I could get a real human skeleton? I could also use some glow-in-the-dark paint and a pulley. Also, do you think Max would mind if I borrowed Topside for an evening? He’s a pretty calm horse—he probably wouldn’t be spooked by rattling chains or howls.

Let me know what you think. Happy haunting!

FROM:
           HorseGal

TO:
                Steviethegreat

TO:
                LAtwood

SUBJECT:
      Bar None trip (what else?)

MESSAGE:

Hi, you two! It’s too late to call, but Dad just told me he talked to Colonel Devine about what time we need to be at the airstrip the day after tomorrow. If you want to meet at my house at nine, Dad said he’d drive us over there. Kate’s not coming along on the plane with her dad this time, but she’ll be at the airfield near the Bar None to pick us all up when we get there.

Okay, I just read over what I wrote, and I can still hardly believe it’s true. We’re really flying off to the Wild West to spend Halloween at the Bar None Ranch with Kate and her family! It’s almost too good to be true.

Isn’t it funny how you can just be going along with your daily life, not even suspecting that such a huge, wonderful thing is coming? I mean, when Dad and I were sitting in the den watching
Psycho
the other night and the phone rang, it just seemed like an unfortunate interruption. But then it turned out to be Kate calling, begging the three of us to come out and stay at her family’s dude ranch so that we can help her mother throw a Halloween party.

And not just any Halloween party—but a fund-raising fair to help create an after-school program for the Native
American children at the local reservation school to replace the activity center that burned down. Who could ask for a more worthy cause?

I guess it’s lucky for us it’s so worthy. Otherwise I doubt any of our parents would have agreed to let us miss three whole days of school for this trip, even if Kate’s father is flying his private plane east specially to pick us up! I can’t wait to see him—and I can’t wait to see the Bar None Ranch again, either. It was so beautiful the last time we were there. I’m dying to take a trail ride through the desert, maybe over to Christine Lonetree’s house to say hi. I can’t wait to sit in a Western saddle again and practice my reining and say “lope” instead of “canter.” And after a hard day in the saddle, I can’t wait to stuff myself with Mrs. Devine’s delicious home cooking!

But the first thing I’m going to do when we arrive (well, after I say hello to the Devines and to Berry and Chocolate and Stewball and the other horses) is make Kate tell us exactly what she meant when she said there was “something else” she was going to talk to us about when we got there. Kate is so straightforward most of the time—if she’s being mysterious, there must be a really exciting reason. And I bet it has something to do with horses!

Secrets or no secrets, though, I guess we have a lot to look forward to. I mean, we already have so many fantastic ideas for the Halloween Fair that it’s sure to be a huge success. Everyone is going to love the costume contest and the pumpkin-carving table and the horror house and all the
other fun things we have planned. And I absolutely love Stevie’s idea that the three of us dress up as three blind mice for the costume parade!

Speaking of costumes, Stevie, I forgot all about your Halloween e-mail until I just went into the computer to write this. But I guess it doesn’t matter now anyway—now we know exactly what our Halloween plans are, and I can’t wait!

FROM:
           LAtwood

TO:
                Steviethegreat

TO:
                HorseGal

SUBJECT:
      Bar None trip (what else?) (2)

MESSAGE:

I’m with you, Carole—I can’t wait for our trip to start, either! Nine o’clock sounds fine. Stevie, call me tomorrow if you want a ride over to Carole’s house.

By the way, just in case spending time with Kate, going on trail rides in the desert, and helping a worthy cause aren’t good enough reasons to look forward to this trip, I have one more to add to the list. It saved us from having to talk Stevie out of dressing us up as a brush jump for Halloween!

Dear Diary
,

As you can see from the above e-mails I just pasted in, things are getting exciting around here again. I could hardly believe it when Carole called with the news that Phyllis Devine actually wanted The Saddle Club’s help with her fund-raising party. It’s going to be great to see Kate again, and Christine, too—they’re two of my favorite out-of-town members of The Saddle Club. And helping with the Halloween Fair should be lots of fun. Planning stuff like that is one of Stevie’s natural talents, and when she drags Carole and me into her plans, we almost always end up having a blast, too.

I can hardly believe all our parents and both our schools agreed to let us go. I’m a little worried about missing three whole days of classes, but I’m sure if I work hard before I go and after I come back I’ll be okay. Stevie isn’t worried about that sort of thing at all, naturally. She’s thrilled to be missing school, even though she has to write an extra-credit report for her headmistress on the value of community service while she’s away. That’s the only way Miss Fenton would agree to let her out of school.

Carole keeps wondering about Kate’s little surprise or secret or whatever. I guess Kate mentioned it on the phone but wouldn’t tell her anything more—but naturally, Carole is completely convinced that it must be about a horse. She could be right, too. Kate is just
as horse-crazy as the rest of us. As for me, I don’t mind waiting to find out what her secret is all about, horse or no horse. There’s plenty to look forward to as it is!

I’d better go get some sleep. We leave the day after tomorrow, and if this visit to the Bar None is anything like the others, I’ll need to be well rested. I won’t be writing again until we get back—I’m sure I won’t have time—but don’t despair, Diary. I’ll fill you in on the trip as soon as I return!

Dear Diary
,

Well, I’m back! If I’d had any idea how much was going to happen on this trip, there’s no way I would have left this diary at home. I have some homework to do—luckily my teachers didn’t assign anything extra like Stevie’s headmistress did, and I did get a lot done before I left, but I still have some math problems to finish and a poetry assignment to do for my creative writing class. The poem is supposed to be about something “active” in my own life. That means no sonnets about love or urns or anything like that.

I have no idea what to write about, but I figured I could do something about my trip out West. And the best way to get inspired is to start putting down my thoughts here. Right? So here goes …

Okay. Normally I know I would start at the beginning and write about the trip in order. But there’s one
thing—well, one person—I can’t seem to get out of my head. I mean, it’s not really just a person. It’s a person, and what he had to say about a horse, and then what happened … Basically, I’m talking about John Brightstar. He’s the son of the Bar None’s new head wrangler. At first I wasn’t sure what to think about him. I mean, after the things he said to Kate about that stallion … Well, I guess I really am getting ahead of myself here. But I’m just trying to say that John is confusing. Unusual. And I’m still not sure what to think of him, even after everything that happened, although I definitely wasn’t lying when I told my friends I thought he was nice …

Oh dear. I’m not making much sense, am I? Maybe I should get to that homework after all. In fact, thinking about John reminded me of the white stallion he told us about, which gives me an idea for my poetry assignment. I’ll have to write about the trip later when my head is clearer.

Moon Stallion
a haiku by Lisa Atwood

Dear Diary
,

Okay, I’ve been home from the trip out West for a few days now, and I think I’m finally ready to write about it. I have some time before dinner, so I thought I’d at least get started now.

This time I’m going to do the sensible thing and begin at the beginning. That would be our flight cross-country with Colonel Devine. We spent most of the flight talking about the party, going over the plans we’d already made and coming up with more. Stevie was really excited about her horror house idea—she had all sorts of tricks up her sleeves for gross things to scare the kids with, like cold pasta that would feel like brains in the dark, peeled grapes that would feel like eyeballs, stuff like that.

Kate was waiting to pick us up at the airfield as promised, and we spent a few minutes greeting, hugging, and telling each other how wonderful we all looked. It was true, too—Kate looked great. Her reddish brown hair was a little longer than it was the last time we saw her, but otherwise she looked just the same as always, right down to her dusty cowboy boots and wide smile. After a few minutes, though, I guess we remembered how much work was waiting for us. We all piled into the truck, and before long we were back at the ranch. Stevie immediately began bombarding Mrs. Devine with her ideas, and Mrs. Devine totally loved
it. Soon they were both sitting at the Bar None’s big kitchen table, making notes and planning away.

I was watching them, smiling at Stevie’s boundless enthusiasm, when I heard a thump behind me. “Where do these go?” asked a voice I’d never heard before.

I turned to see who it was. Standing there, our suitcases on the floor beside him, was a boy a little older than me. He had dark hair that kind of fell over his forehead, and really dark, intense-looking eyes.

“This is John Brightstar,” Kate told us, waving a hand at the boy. “His father, Walter, is our new head wrangler.” She turned to John. “Thanks for bringing the bags in from the truck, John. These guys will be staying in Bunkhouse One. Would you mind taking their stuff over there?”

“I’ll help if you want,” I offered quickly, stepping forward. I figured Stevie was already so lost in her plotting that she wouldn’t miss me. And I was equally sure Carole was going to drag Kate off and question her about her secret the first chance she got. That meant I had a little time on my hands—why not try to make myself useful?

John nodded. “Thanks.” He didn’t say anything else, but he waited as I came over and hoisted my suitcase in one hand and my duffel in the other. I felt a little embarrassed about having so much luggage for such a short trip—that’s Mom for you. She wants me to be prepared for anything when I travel. It’s easier just to let her pack what she wants than to try to explain that
there’s no way I’ll ever need a long skirt and a pair of velvet flats at a dude ranch!

Anyway, I soon realized that John wouldn’t have any idea how many of the bags were mine. That made me feel a little better. But I still wasn’t sure quite what to say to him as we left the main building and headed across the dusty yard toward the row of bunkhouses. I pretended to be very busy looking around, and there really was a lot to look at—the big familiar barn, the corral with a herd of horses grazing near the fence, and of course the gorgeous Rocky Mountains circling the ranch on the horizon. Finally, though, as we approached Bunkhouse One, the silence started to get to me. That was probably my mother rubbing off on me. She thinks silence is impolite. As she would say, “Nice young ladies should be able to make courteous conversation with anyone, at any time.”

I glanced over at John. “Um, how do you like living here at the Bar None?”

“It’s nice,” John replied. “The Devines are nice people.”

I nodded. “They sure are.” It wasn’t much of a conversation, but for some reason I couldn’t seem to think of anything more interesting to say. Anyway, we had reached the bunkhouse’s small front porch by that time. “Um, you can just leave the bags here. I’ll take them inside.”