Starting Gate (11 page)

“Poooo-neeee,” she gurgled, holding on to the little horse’s thick mane. “Poooo-neeeee!”

Though everyone laughed as Carole and Maxi walked around the ring, Stevie and Lisa kept looking over their shoulders, watching for the big red van to pull up. By the time Maxi had ridden the pony ride five times, it still hadn’t shown up.

“Let’s go look at those exhibits on the other side of the arena,” said Lisa as Carole gave Maxi back to Deborah.

“What time is it?” asked Stevie, again looking for the van.

Carole glanced at her watch. “Ten-thirty. They’ve still got an hour and a half to get here.”

“Okay,” Stevie said. “We might as well educate ourselves while we wait.”

They walked to the other side of the arena, where a number of booths had been set up. One displayed a new line of tack made specifically for jumping and dressage, while another exhibited barn mats constructed to massage horses’ hooves with tiny magnets. The girls looked at feed booths and boot booths and finally a book booth that specialized in novels about
horses. All the while they kept looking over their shoulders, hoping to see the big red van.

“What time is it now?” asked Stevie as they came to the end of the booths.

“Eleven-thirty,” reported Carole.

Stevie looked at her friends, her hazel eyes wide. “They’ve got thirty minutes to get here!”

“Maybe they ran into traffic,” said Carole.

“Look, they could get here as late as one o’clock and we could still ride,” reasoned Lisa. “Our event doesn’t start until two.”

“That’s cutting it awfully close,” said Stevie.

“Yes, but it still gives them an hour and a half to arrive,” said Lisa. “Let’s go get something to eat. That way we’ll be ready to go when they come.”

They walked over to a refreshment stand, where they got two hot dogs apiece. When they’d finished those, they watched a training seminar on how to get reluctant horses to cross a stream calmly. Though the seminar was interesting, each of the girls still kept looking for the red van and listening for their names to be called on the PA system.

“What time is it now?” whispered Stevie.

Carole looked at her watch and shuddered. “Twelve-thirty.”

“Let’s go find Max and Deborah,” suggested Lisa.

They left the seminar and began searching for the
Regnerys. It took them a while to locate them in the stands, but finally they found them. Deborah was holding Maxi while Max watched a hunter-jumper class.

“Hi.” Deborah looked up at them. The look on her face told them everything.

“Nobody’s showed up yet, have they?” Stevie asked.

Deborah shook her head. “What time is it?”

“Twelve-forty-five,” Carole said sadly.

“Let me call them again.” Deborah handed Maxi to Lisa while she dug her cell phone out of her purse. Punching in the number that she now knew by heart, she held the phone to her ear and waited. The phone rang many times, but no one answered. She looked at the girls and shook her head.

“Nobody at the shipping company,” she reported. “Let me try the driver’s cell phone.”

This time she had to check a number she’d scribbled in her day planner. Once again, the phone rang many times, but no one picked up. Shaking her head, she clicked the phone off and looked at the girls.

“I’m sorry,” Deborah said. “But nobody’s there, either.”

“What?” cried Stevie, her face red with anger. “How can nobody be there? How can they promise they’ll have our horses here and then just not show up? It’s too late now. Even if they came right
this instant we wouldn’t have enough time to get ready!”

“That’s right,” said Lisa. “We’ve spent a lot of time and money to come out here and compete. Thanks to this stupid van company, this whole trip is turning out to be a big zero!”

“I’m sorry, girls,” said Max. “I’ve used this company before and they’ve never been incompetent.” He shook his head in frustration. “I’m sure they’ll adjust our shipping bill, so we’ll get some of our money back.”

“Adjust it like how much?” asked Stevie.

“Like down to nothing, if he has anything to say about it.” Deborah looked at Max.

Max frowned. “Look, there’s nothing we can do about this now. Why don’t you guys come to Disneyland with us? That way you can at least have a little fun on your last afternoon in California.”

The girls looked at each other. Each knew that if they couldn’t be there riding, there was only one other place they wanted to be.

“No,” said Stevie. “Thanks. That sounds like fun, but since we can’t ride, we need to go and cheer for someone who can.”

Max smiled. “Would that someone be Skye Ransom?”

The girls nodded. “He’s shooting his big racing scene today,” Lisa explained.

“Well, would you like a lift over to Ashford Racetrack since we’re going in that direction?”

“That would be great, Max,” said Carole, taking Maxi from Deborah’s arms.

“Yes,” laughed Stevie. “Since for once we don’t have Stephan waiting.”

They left the arena and hurried back to the car. They still kept looking for a big red van to pull up in a cloud of dust, but no new horses or riders were arriving. In fact, more people were leaving than arriving as Max pulled into the line of traffic on the highway.

“Now, you guys know we have to be at the airport by seven in the morning, don’t you?” he asked, glancing at them in the rearview mirror.

“Right,” said Lisa.

“Then why don’t we agree to meet back at the hotel by six this evening. We’ll have an early dinner and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay, Max,” agreed Carole as their car pulled into the Ashford Racetrack driveway. “That won’t be a problem.”

“All right, then,” Max called as they got out of the car. “We’ll see you girls around six.”

“Bye!” called Stevie.

“Have fun,” Deborah replied. “Good luck to Skye!”

Since their names were already on the studio guest
list, they had no trouble getting past security. They headed for Skye’s trailer.

“I hope we’re not too late,” said Stevie.

“I know,” Lisa agreed. “Skye would feel so much better if we were here, watching him while he worked.”

“Let’s hurry,” said Carole.

They made their way to Skye’s trailer and knocked softly on the door, which opened immediately. Jess Morton stood there, a worried frown on his face.

“Oh boy,” he said. “Am I glad to see you three!”

“What’s the matter?” asked Carole. “You look upset.”

“It’s just been an awful morning,” explained Jess. “Skye’s a wreck. He’s had calls from three different gossip columnists who wanted to confirm a rumor they’d heard that he’d been fired from the movie and Fred Gamble was taking his place!”

“Who told them that?” cried Lisa.

Jess shrugged. “An unnamed source, according to them. You can imagine how that made Skye feel.”

“Where’s he now?” asked Stevie.

“Down on the set. They’re getting ready to shoot his big scene.”

“Are we in time to watch?” asked Carole.

“Absolutely!” said Jess, hustling them back down the trailer steps. “In fact, I’d say you guys got here just in time to help. Let’s go!”

T
HE
S
ADDLE
C
LUB
hurried along behind Jess, arriving at the racetrack just as the scene was about to begin. In the movie, the action was to take place on a windy, rainy day, so along with the huge klieg lights and microphones were other movie effect machines that produced sheets of rain and gusts of blustery wind.

The girls easily picked Mabel out from the crowd of horses milling around the starting gate. She was already dancing away from the man who held her, her ears slapped back and a wild look in her eyes. Skye, who was sitting in his own special chair, didn’t look much better. Though he wore movie makeup and his green-and-white jockey silks costume, the girls saw that his mouth was pulled down in a tight, nervous
line, and his twinkling blue eyes were clouded with concern.

“Sit right here,” Jess whispered, leading them to a long bench just behind a camera. “And don’t make a sound!”

The girls nodded, then watched as the director strutted out to the middle of the set, grinning as if everything were perfectly all right.

“Okay, people,” he called, addressing everyone. “After yesterday’s success, I know this race scene is going to be great. It’s not going to be easy, but we have a great cast and crew, and I’m confident that Skye can work with this magnificent horse and get the best performance out of her possible.” He paused for a moment, then smiled again. “Is everybody ready?”

Everyone concerned—except Skye—either mumbled yes or nodded.

“Okay, then,” the director said. “Let’s get rolling.”

Mabel’s groom hauled her, kicking and balking, closer to Skye. Her white face had been washed almost to a glow, and her dark bay coat shone with a deep luster.

“She’s so pretty,” whispered Lisa. “She reminds me of—”

“Shhh!” said Carole. “Be quiet or they’ll make us leave!”

While the groom held on to Mabel, another handler
tried to put her saddle on. First she shied away. Then she reared. The third time she tried to bite the groom. Two more grooms were called in to help hold her head. Finally, after ten more minutes of twisting and fighting, they buckled a tiny racing saddle on the frantic horse.

“I would call Mabel more monstrous than magnificent,” whispered Stevie, frowning as Skye rose from his chair and slowly walked toward the horse.

“Okay, Skye,” said the director. “Are you ready?”

Skye nodded, though he looked ashen beneath his makeup. With one groom holding Mabel’s head, he put his left foot in the stirrup and tried to swing up. Immediately, Mabel whirled around to the left, her massive hindquarters knocking Skye to the ground. Carole, Lisa, and Stevie all winced. They knew how much that could hurt. To their amazement, a snicker floated up from behind the director. They turned. George, Shev Bayliss, and Marcella all had sarcastic smiles on their faces.

“How mean can these people be?” cried Lisa.

“Shhh!” said Stevie. “Skye’s going to try again.”

The groom held Mabel tighter as Skye tried a second time. This time Mabel stood calmly until he was almost sitting in the saddle, then she jumped and twisted at the same time. Skye bounced once on Mabel’s back, then thudded to the ground again.

“This is awful!” cried Carole. “This horse is not fit to be ridden, much less star in the movies!”

“Skye has a lot of guts to do this,” said Stevie.

They watched as Skye tried to mount Mabel for the third time. This time the other groom came over and held the saddle to keep Mabel steady. The two grooms were able to hold the horse still enough for Skye to finally put both feet in the short racing stirrups.

“Bravo!” shouted George, clapping his hands loudly. “He actually mounted the horse! What a performance!”

Mabel jumped once at the sound of hands clapping, but Skye managed to hold her still.

“Okay,” said the director. “Let’s get her into the starting gate.”

With Skye perched on Mabel’s back, the grooms began to lead her down the track. She took about three strides, then began to walk sideways. When Skye and the grooms tried to straighten her out, she lunged at one groom, then tried to bite the other. As the man jumped away from her snapping teeth, he let go of her bridle. Mabel saw her chance. In a flash she turned from racehorse to bucking bronco, twisting and turning and finally rearing high into the air. Skye hung on the whole time, desperately trying to rein the horse away from the terrified crew members and the expensive movie equipment.

“Somebody grab that horse!” shouted the director. “She’s going to kill somebody!”

The grooms ran after her, grabbing at her bridle. After a few more moments of bucking and snorting, Mabel finally calmed down enough to allow them to seize her bridle. Skye remained in the saddle the whole time, ready to rein Mabel in again should she take off once more.

“Okay, Skye,” the director called disappointedly. “Jump down and take ten. Something’s definitely wrong here. George, come on over here. We need to talk.”

The girls watched as Skye dismounted and strode over to where George and the director were conferring. Another tall, skinny bald man joined the group from the other side of the set.

“Who’s that?” asked Lisa, watching as the four men began talking at once.

“I don’t know,” Stevie replied. “But be quiet and maybe we can hear what they’re saying.”

“What’s wrong with this movie is Ransom!” the girls heard George say angrily. “He’s just not the horseman he guaranteed us he was!”

“Now hold on,” said the skinny bald man. “I’m Jim Young, Skye’s agent. I’ve heard all the rumors that have been flying around this set. Let me remind you two that Skye Ransom has ridden horses very successfully in five feature films and half a dozen television
dramas. Nobody has ever complained about his ability to ride!” He glared at George. “I think somebody sold you a bill of goods on this horse!”

“That’s baloney!” George snapped, grabbing Mabel’s reins. “This horse has been in more movies than Ransom, and she’s carried her riders perfectly! I’m not going to stand here and listen to this malarkey!