Authors: Bonnie Bryant
Horse Crazy
Horse Shy
Horse Sense
Horse Power
Trail Mates
Dude Ranch
Horse Play
Horse Show
Hoof Beat
Riding Camp
Horse Wise
Rodeo Rider
Starlight Christmas
Sea Horse
Team Play
Horse Games
Horsenapped
Pack Trip
Star Rider
Snow Ride
Racehorse
Fox Hunt
Horse Trouble
Ghost Rider
I would like to express my special thanks to Ellen Krieger for her contribution to this story. Cheers! —B.B.H.
Copyright © 1991 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller
Cover art copyright © 1991 by George Tsui
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
“The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller.
“USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of the United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.
Visit us on the Web!
randomhouse.com/kids
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at
RHTeachersLibrarians.com
eISBN: 978-0-307-82501-8
Originally published by Bantam Skylark in December 1991
First Delacorte Ebook Edition 2012
v3.1
Pepper had a wonderful rocking canter, but nobody would know that looking at Skye Ransom. He rode Pepper as if he were Ichabod Crane being chased by the headless horseman. There was a look of pure terror on his face.
“Cut!” Oliver cried out. “Something wrong, Skye?”
“No,” Skye said, but it was clear that there was.
“Is the horse going too fast for you?” Oliver asked.
“No,” Skye said. Lisa could tell that Skye was very uncomfortable about something, but she also knew that he was too much of a professional to let his problems cause trouble on the set. “Let’s try it again, Oliver,” he suggested.
Oliver agreed and the scene was set up again. Lisa returned to the stable, prepared to step out on cue. From the shadows, she watched Skye’s approach. The second time wasn’t any better than the first. The problem was that Skye was scared, pure and simple.
If only
The Saddle Club could think of a way to help …
L
ISA
A
TWOOD PATTED
the black colt reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, Samson,” she told him. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
He swished his tail. His ears flicked.
“That means he’s listening,” Carole Hanson told her friend.
Lisa could tell. The young horse had watched every move she’d made since she’d entered his paddock. He never even looked at his mother, a palomino camed Delilah, who was observing the training session intently from the other side of a fence.
Lisa moved around to face Samson, holding a bridle and a bit in her hands. She wanted him to be able to see and smell the tack so he wouldn’t be frightened when she
put it on him. He glanced at the bit and bridle and took two steps back. She patted him again.
Although Lisa’s two best friends, Carole and Stevie Lake, were just a few feet away, Lisa was concentrating so hard on Samson that it was as if they were the only two beings in the world.
“It’s just me,” she said, speaking in a low voice, calmly stepping toward the retreating colt. He responded by stopping. “I’m going to teach you something, and you’re going to show me what a good pupil you are.”
The words flowed automatically. Lisa knew that
what
she was saying to Samson really didn’t matter. What was important was that he heard her voice and sensed the calm in it. If he heard uncertainty or fear, he’d flee.
As Samson stood still, Lisa stood on his left side. She held the bit of the bridle in her left hand and the crownpiece in her right. Without hesitation she put the bit by his mouth, poising the crownpiece to go over his ears when the bit was in place. Samson was surprised and opened his mouth to protest. Before he knew what had happened, she slipped the bit into his mouth and then very quickly slid the crownpiece into place over his ears. He was in a bridle and all that was left to do was to convince him he wanted to stay that way until she could get the thing buckled.
“It’s what all the well-dressed horses are wearing this
year,” she said to Samson, imitating a fashion show emcee. “The modest mini, with a slight metallic accent—perfect for the afternoon outing or a morning in the field. No wardrobe would be complete without it.”
Lisa quickly buckled the bridle and then took the reins. Samson chomped curiously at the unfamiliar piece of metal in his mouth, but he stood willingly.
“Ta-dah!” Stevie called out from the fence where she and Carole sat.
“Nice job!” Carole chimed in. “You’re a natural-born trainer.”
“Oh, it wasn’t that big of a deal,” Lisa said, leading Samson over to the fence. “After all, he’s been wearing a halter for months now.”
“There’s a big difference between a halter and a bit, and Samson is smart enough to know it. You did a perfect job of introducing him to his new tack,” Carole said.
Lisa was almost embarrassed by Carole’s compliment. The three girls were best friends and they were all good horseback riders. They loved horses so much that they’d created The Saddle Club, which had only two rules: Members had to be horse crazy, and they had to be willing to help one another out. Lisa was the newest rider of the three, but she worked hard at it and had learned a lot in the short time she’d been riding. Lisa was a straight-A student in school and approached everything she did logically
and analytically. It didn’t surprise those around her that she usually succeeded at things she tried. It always seemed to surprise Lisa, though.
Stevie, on the other hand, was a schemer. When there was a problem to be solved, Stevie could always think of a way to solve it, and it usually involved getting everybody into hot water. Carole and Lisa didn’t mind that too much. Being anywhere with Stevie was fun—even hot water.
Carole was the most serious rider of the three. She’d been raised on Marine Corps bases, where her widowed father was a colonel, and had learned to ride the military horses as a very little girl. When she grew up, Carole was going to be a trainer, or a vet, or a championship rider, or a breeder—or all of them!
“Can I try leading him now?” Stevie asked. Lisa nodded and handed her the reins.
Samson seemed so preoccupied with the strange feel of the bit in his mouth that he just followed willingly. Lisa climbed up onto the paddock fence and sat next to Carole.
“He’s going to be a breeze to train with a saddle when the time comes,” she observed.
“Only if he’s got good trainers,” Carole said.
“He will, because he’ll have us,” Lisa reminded her.
“And we’re the best,” Stevie added, returning with Samson to where her friends sat on the fence.
“Speaking of being the best, didn’t you guys promise to help me plan Dad’s surprise birthday party?” Carole asked.
“We did help you,” Stevie said. “We reminded you to send out the invitations, didn’t we?”
“Big help,” Carole said. “Tell you what, I’ll walk Samson in a circle now while you two figure out exactly what we’re going to do to make Dad’s fortieth birthday the best ever.”
Carole slid off the fence, landing on the soft earth of the paddock. Samson watched while Stevie handed the reins to Carole. He seemed vaguely aware of the fact that the reins were attached to the odd thing in his mouth. He chomped at it unsuccessfully.
“Forty!” Stevie said, climbing up next to Lisa. “It sounds awfully old.”
“My dad turned forty two years ago,” Lisa said. “He talked about it for months.”
“What did you do for a party?” Stevie asked.
“Nothing,” Lisa said. Then a thought occurred to her. “Maybe that’s why he talked about it so much! But he said he didn’t want us to do anything.”
“They always say that,” Stevie said.
“And they never mean it,” Lisa added.
“Well, Colonel Hanson is a terrific guy, and I want to help Carole make this his best birthday ever.”
“Me, too,” Lisa agreed.
Colonel Hanson was a favorite with all the riders at Pine Hollow Stable, where The Saddle Club rode and where he was one of the parent volunteers for the pony club, Horse Wise. He was a special favorite of Stevie’s because they shared a passion for 1950s trivia and old jokes. Sometimes Carole had trouble shaking her father from the phone when Stevie called. Stevie and Colonel Hanson seemed to have an unlimited supply of grape and elephant jokes to try on one another.
“You know,” Stevie began, “if we’re going to help Carole throw the party, we’re talking about decorating and cooking—”
“And cleaning up,” Lisa said sensibly.
“The trouble is, the only thing I know how to cook is Rice Krispies treats,” Stevie said.
“Well, then it’s a good thing Colonel Hanson really loves them,” Lisa told her.
“Lisa! Phone call!” Lisa looked to see Mrs. Reg. She was the mother of Max Regnery, the man who owned Pine Hollow. Mrs. Reg served as the stable manager. She didn’t like to think of herself as a telephone operator and
usually refused to hunt down somebody to take a phone call. Lisa was concerned.
“Is it an emergency?” she called, running toward Mrs. Reg.
“Nope, but it’s long distance—from California. You’d better hurry.”
Lisa did. She ran so fast, she was totally breathless by the time she reached Mrs. Reg’s desk.